The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 323: Corruption

Chapter 323: Corruption

The buildings and people of Blue Rock City passed us by in a blur of sights and sounds. I clung to Orion’s side, eyes shifting nervously from alley to alley, my chest tight with trepidation. There was nothing familiar to find, no small comfort in this city of noise and confusion.

At long last, Joel came to a stop before a large, three-story building. The sign above the wide, double doors was unintelligible to me, but it seemed to be some kind of inn. He gestured toward it and spoke a few words, frowning as I shook my head. His tone became increasingly agitated and his voice grew sharp, sending an anxious shudder down my tail. I shrunk behind Orion, heart pounding, desperate to hide from the lieutenant’s anger. Just what did he want from me?

At last, Orion held up his hand, cutting Joel off mid-sentence. I breathed a sigh of relief, but stiffened again as he laid a hand on my shoulder and gave me what must have been meant as a comforting smile. To me, it came off shallow and empty, his gesture toward the inn a death sentence. They wanted me to go inside? But...alone?

Clinging to his arm, I shook my head, body trembling. I couldn’t do it. Not alone, not without being able to understand anything. We had to go back and find Fable first. I tried to explain it, using words as well as gesturing with my hands, but he just looked at me blankly. Shaking his head, Orion pulled free of my grasp and nudged me toward the door, nodding encouragingly.

I stumbled forward a step, unsteady and on shaky legs, staring at the door in terror. I could call Fable here if I just summoned my staff. Even if it caused a disturbance, at least I could–

The world dimmed, sight and sound falling away, as a gentle pulse of mana stirred my soul, soothing the anxiety that threatened to consume me. It bubbled up like a spring, overflowing and stilling the tremors that rocked my body, a breath of air amid the suffocating tension.

Exhaling slowly, I embraced my soul and allowed my mana to fill me. Another pulse came, and then another, bringing peace to my heart. And with the peace came a bit of rationale. The soldiers knew I couldn’t understand anyone, yet they didn’t see a problem pushing me forward, alone. It could be a trap, a crafty plan meant to utilize my confusion to manipulate or trap me, but the odds of that were low. I sensed no malice in their actions, their anger justified by their frustration and inability to communicate with me.

Slowly, the soothing waves of mana took purpose, urging me onward into the inn. It was the same gentle tug that led me out of Lord Byron’s mansion those many months ago. Since then, it nudged me along every step of my journey, subconsciously guiding me to the paths I needed. Without it, I never would been able to control my vision and bring Korra this far, or taken the step to trust Fable in the woods.

Fate needed me to move forward, to take this small step into the unknown.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and nodded at Orion. He let out a long, relieved sigh and flashed me a smile. He and Joel shifted to the side of the inn, keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings. Guarding me.

The doors were thick and heavy, but with some exertion, they opened enough to allow me to slip through and into the common room beyond. The inn was empty, save a thin, willowy woman behind the counter. She glanced up as I stepped into the room and asked something, her voice silky and smooth, but I just shook my head. After that, she paid me no more attention, returning to polishing the mug in her hand. I blinked and stared at her for a second, then shook my head. What was it with barkeepers and their mugs?

That brief moment of levity was all I needed to catch my breath and tightly bundle the last of my anxiety deep in my chest. It simmered there, prone to rising at a moment’s notice, but for the time being my tail fell still beneath my cloak and my hands ceased their trembling. With a deep breath, I looked around the common room. Just what were they expecting me to do here?

I took a hesitant step forward and rested a hand on a chair, intending to sit and think for a second, when my mana reacted to something, urging me forward. Slowly, tentatively, I followed the tugs, ending up at the foot of the stairs leading to the accommodations above. The innkeeper was absorbed in her work, not minding me in the slightest.

With a deep breath, I took the stairs one at a time. The inn was still and quiet, disconcerting after the bustle of the city and the anxious thoughts plaguing my mind. My ears twitched, ringing with the subtle echoes of my soft leather boots against the wooden floor. By the time I reached the top and gazed into the hallway beyond, the tip of my tail began to flick back and forth again, stirring the folds of my cloak.

A dozen doorways branched off the hallway, but my gaze was immediately drawn to the one furthest from the stairs. This door alone was open, allowing soft, natural light to spill into the corridor from the room beyond. An open window, perhaps, or a skylight. The doorway called to me, beckoning through the threads of fate and drawing me forward.

Walking to the end of the hall, I peeked around the doorframe. "Hello?" I asked, my voice startling loud in the silence of the inn.

It was a standard, forgettable room with a single bed, nightstand, and dresser. My gaze skipped over the amenities and fastened on the sole occupant, a broad-shouldered man sitting at a small table. His soul was dim, perhaps first or second level, and his back was to me. But, despite the fact I approached nearly silently, he hardly stirred as I spoke. He had known I was there.

I stood awkwardly for another second and was about to speak again, when my breath caught in my throat. His soul was damaged, that much was clear, but not shattered like mine. Instead, it was smothered in infernal mana, a raging storm that devastated his natural mana cycle. His aura, which at first glance seemed first level, was merely all that survived, drops amid what should have been an ocean of power.

"Who are you?" My voice barely rose above a whisper, thick with horror and a morbid sense of curiosity. "Your soul..."

He reacted at that, turning in his chair and lifting his eyes to meet mine. I took an instinctive step back and pressed a hand to my breast, suffocated by the sheer force of his gaze. His eyes bored into me like knives, filled with a twisted sense of pain and chaos, but even that paled compared to the horror of his appearance. Thick, jagged scars traversed his face and neck, winding across his flesh like serpents, dipping down beneath this shirt. They seemed to be burns of some kind, but I quickly covered my mouth, smothering a gasp, as I realized their true nature. Corruption.

"Hello, Xiviyah." His voice was flat and emotionless, but beneath the indifference, there was...trepidation? Perhaps hope, even.

"Levin?" I took another step back, pressing up against the corridor wall. "W-what happened to you? How did you..."

My voice died, stolen by the rush of memories. I had seen him in my vision, fighting desperately against the fire demon in the eastern regions of Brithlite. His party had fallen beneath the demon’s flames, and as for Levin...he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be alive. No one could survive those terrible fires, or the eight-level monster that wielded them."

Levin stood slowly, his disfigured body shaking with the effort. He took a step toward me, then another, his hands clenched tightly into fists. Traces of a once formidable aura escaped his corrupted soul, stealing my breath and turning the air to ice.

"This is your fault," he hissed, advancing ever closer. "All of it!"

My tail went rigid with fear as he loomed over me, blotting out the sunlight streaming in from the window behind him. He raised his hand toward me, fingers curled like claws, grasping for my face. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, urging me to run, summon my staff, or even cast a spell, but I was paralyzed, rooted in place with my back to the wall. This wasn’t the Levin Korra had told me about. He’d stood against us at the Divine Throne, but she’d promised he was normally kind and gentle, like an older brother. Just what had happened to him?

It was the pain. I could see it in his tortured eyes, in the tremors that wracked his body. Slowly, I reached up and took his hand, gripping it gently with my own. My hands were small and childlike compared to his massive, calloused fingers, but he froze the moment we touched. A shudder ran through his body and his eyes widened, lips parting in a silent gasp.

I pulled his hand down and pressed it against my heart, and said, with tears in my eyes, "Oh, Levin. I know it hurts. I’ve felt it too."

A tear trickled down his cracked cheek, dripping off his chin and splashing on my hand, still wrapped around his own. He stared at it, then jerked back, tearing free of my grasp. I flinched away, but instead of lashing out, he retreated into the room.

"What could you possibly know of my pain?" he spat, glaring at me like a wounded animal. My heart ached within my chest, as much for his pain as my own memories. His next words stabbed deep into my heart, twisting like a knife. "I didn’t bring you here so you could pity me. I’d never accept something so pathetic from a filthblood slut like you."

The gathered moisture in my eyes overflowed, and I bit my lip, holding back a sob. "I-I’m sorry, Levin. I just...I’m sorry."

He blinked, looking taken aback. Guilt flashed across his face, but he clenched his jaw, shaking it off, and collapsed into a chair. He waved across from himself and let out a heavy sigh. "Just take a seat. There’s a lot we have to talk about."