The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 152: Aftermath

Chapter 152: Aftermath

"Are you sure you’re alright? You really won’t eat anymore?"

It was the seventh time Elise had asked, and I refused again with a slight shake of my head. My eyes drifted aimlessly from the bowl of soup to her face. Elise’s was as beautiful as usual, but the glimmering light in her eyes wavered in anguish. She reached across the table, taking my limp hand in hers and squeezing it.

"Please, just eat a little more. You’ve barely had half a bowl."

"I-I’m fine," I whispered, wincing as my throat strained painfully. Following several weeks of extreme dehydration, it even hurt to breathe, not to mention speak.

An entire day had passed since Soltair retrieved me from the dungeon, but my memories were a complete blur. Somehow, I’d ended up with Elise in the tower of the library where I’d often studied. It was one of the few places to survive the devastating attack unscathed.

Ignoring me, she slipped the spoon between my lips, practically forcing a trickle of broth down my throat. "No, you’re not. No one could be okay after all that." Her grip tightened on the spoon, her voice falling to a whisper. "There was so much blood...and even after I healed you, you’ve lost so much weight. How could such a thing have happened?"

"It’s okay," I whispered.

Her lips curved in a small frown. "I spent the past week searching for you night and day, but I never dreamed you’d be locked in the cells with the cultists. Gah, if I’d only thought to check! How did you end up there?"

"I-I’m sorry," I replied, my shoulders slumping. "It’s all so dark."

"You can’t remember anything? Like the professor’s face or his House? What about the battle?"

I shook my head, my hands curling tightly into the folds of my dress. Although perfectly fitted before, it now hung loosely around my body. Elise sighed, leaning back and crossing her legs before explaining what had happened. Between her explanation and my scattered visions, I was able to piece together a relatively complete picture. The fact that Elise had nearly died remained a secret. Even the students of her house who had been there only witnessed brief glimpses of the seventh-circle spell the demon used to save her and assumed she survived on her own.

After I fainted, the empowered Mana Storm descended on the city, scouring all spells and enchantments from existence. As with the Pope, no one seemed to have figured out where it came from, but the results were devastating. Only powerful magic items like Divine Artifacts survived the purge, throwing the already precarious state of the magic-dependant city over the edge. Recovery efforts had ground to a halt as construction and security, both of which relied heavily on magic, failed. It was impossible to accurately estimate the damages, but it was likely hundreds, if not thousands, of additional lives were lost.

But the consequences ranged far beyond that. Mages below fourth level had been permanently crippled. The spell ravaged their souls, destroying all traces of mana and reducing them to the state of ordinary humans. Many suffered severe mental backlash from the shock, with dozens remaining comatose in the present. The Heart of the West, which the demonkin had somehow disabled in the attack, had been destroyed. The high levels of mana that once blessed the city were reversed, as the fallout of the Mana Storm limited anyone using magic greatly, lowering the effective power of spells by one or two circles.

The full effects of the calamitous dragon, demon, and Mana Storm were still under investigation, but thousands had perished, and tens of thousands were injured. The destruction reached an estimated forty percent of all structures in the city, and a staggering amount of people were reduced to refugees. In the two and a half weeks since the incident, relief from other cities and nations poured into Western University, yet that had only scratched the surface of the needs of the people.

The corpse of the infernal dragon was discovered several miles away, impaled on a jagged monolith rock formation, but there was no word of Fyren. Credit for the kill was split between Soltair or a nameless ninth-level warrior, dragged out of solitude by the conflict. The official explanation claimed it was Soltair, but many had seen him shortly after the fight with the Curse Demon when the dragon was supposedly slain.

Despite the general lack of clarity, one thing was clear. Fyren had left and never returned. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t dead, which left only one option. All of his promises were merely words, forgotten the instant they bound him to a burden like myself. Even Soltair searched for me, eventually freeing me from the dungeon, yet he was gone.

I sighed, resting my cheek on my hand and looking at nothing in particular. "Do you hate me?"

Elise froze, her eyes her golden eyes flashing dangerously, I coughed, clutching my chest as a flicker of her aura escaped. In my current state, even the smallest strand of power disrupted my injured soul, sending discordant pulses through my body. She’d never looked this angry even when facing down the Demonkin.

"What in the hells did they do to you to make you ask that? How could I possibly hate you? Everything good that’s ever happened to me is because of you. My freedom, my engagement, saving the other students, all of it! If it weren’t for you, I’d still be wearing a fake smile, praying to whatever god would listen to bless me with someone to talk to."

Caught up in the moment, a small trace of her aura leaked once more, emphasizing her words. But, as she fell silent, I simply looked at her blankly, unable to understand most of her words. Engagement? Fake smile? What was she even talking about?

"I haven’t done anything," I muttered, deciding to dismiss her outburst. "I didn’t even know you were engaged, or that you knew Life Magic."

"A lot happened since the duel," she replied, "and even more after the dragon attacked. It’s almost been a month since then, you know. The other students ostracized me because of the curse. I wasn’t able to participate in most of the classes and activities because they required more than simply Sun magic. The day after the duel, I started learning Life Magic. I wanted to surprise you with it once I learned a fourth-circle spell, but the demon happened first. That’s how I was able to heal you this morning, remember?"

I shook my head. I remembered hearing her name, but nothing after that. "Why would you do that for someone like me?"

"Because if I couldn’t do that much for you, I wouldn’t be able to consider myself your friend," she answered firmly. "And I am your friend, whatever you might think."

Following her declaration, Elise looked at me sternly, daring me to challenge her assertion. My fingers tightened in the folds of my skirt, but something about her informed me I’d regret saying anything. But even so, could I accept it?

Friends. A luxury I could neither afford nor deserve. Throughout the past year, I’d formed relationships with several people I’d call friendships. Yet of those few, far too many had betrayed me. I once believed I would be happy as Soltair’s slave regardless of the circumstances, but after tasting his kindness, I could no longer bear his scorn. It would have been so much easier if I’d never tried to be more than a simple slave. Then I would have lost nothing.

Now, even the thought of exposing myself to another sent shivers through my body. An open heart was bared to the blades of betrayal. It was much easier to keep it closed. The pain of solitude was familiar, comfortable even. I could deal with that.

Elise frowned, tapping her fingers on the table. Her gaze grew sharper as the silence dragged on. Despite my doubts, the strands of fate binding our souls conveyed her sincerity. Some part of me recalled the sacrifice I had made at the demon’s hands. I had paid the price to pry her from the jaws of death. If I allowed fear to rule me now, wouldn’t that all have been in vain?

And so, fighting the fear and reluctance twirling through my heart, I nodded. Elise broke into a smile, her light chasing the shadows from the room. Friends. If it was her, I could accept it.

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