The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 375: Back to the Inn

Chapter 375: Back to the Inn

We dropped through the city with barely a whisper of noise, a silver shadow a streak of crimson hair. The streets were still packed with panicking civilians, split by the occasional armed patrol, so we kept on the roofs. I laid low on Fable’s back as we bounded over the evening skyline, urging him ever faster, and yet dreading that very thing. With the magical acceleration provided by Wind’s Speed, Fable practically flew over the rooftops. By the time we reached the outer districts of the city, my knuckles ached with how tightly I was griping his fur.

Barely a handful of minutes passed before we found ourselves on familiar streets, looking up at the Empty Nest Inn. This area of town was closest to the main gates and seemed almost abandoned. Every resident that wasn’t sheltering within their home had undoubtedly evacuated to elsewhere in the city. The few wide-eyed individuals we did see skirted around the infernal appearance of Fable before scurrying away without daring to look back.

I slid off of Fable’s back and landed gently on the ground, groaning as the motion upset the Sunpurge. I buried my face in his shoulder, my grip on his fur tightening, until the pain passed and I could stand. My soul had recovered a bit in our race through the city, but I remained unsteady on my feet, relying on my wolf for support.

The inn was deadly silent, but I was comforted by the slender line of mana that ran from my soul into the building, one of the threads of the Nexus. My tail twitched eagerly as I pushed through the door, but I froze stiff in the doorway as I found not one, but two heroes glance up at me.

"Xiviyah?" Korra’s mouth parted in surprise, and a guilty look flashed across her face. "What are you...I, um, weren’t you were supposed to get out of the city."

"You look...terrible," Grace said, eyeing me up and down.

I could only imagine what they must have seen. My long, crimson hair was dull and tangled, a few curls sticky with blood that oozed from a deep cut on my cheek. Dark scratches and bloody abrasions covered my body, especially around where my neck where the soldier’s gauntleted fingers had bruised and torn my skin. The sunpurge burned fiercely, its golden light giving me a particularly sallow, sickly look in the poor illumination of the inn.

A slight red darkened my cheeks as their eyes lingered on me a second longer, but then Korra smacked her on the arm, sharp enough to make me flinch. "And whose fault do you think that is?"

The Storm Hero only shrugged. "Eh, sorry about that. It looks like you managed to win though. Good job!"

I blinked, an uncertain twitch running down my tail, as she gave me a thumbs up and a cheery smile. Korra just rolled her eyes and rose to her feet, taking me by the hand and leading me to their table. I let myself be pulled along, still unsure of what was going on.

"Korra," I whispered, doing my best not to stare at Grace. "Isn’t she...you know...an enemy"

Korra answered with none of my subtly. "Oh, Grace? I already won our fight, and she offered to pay for drinks as a consequence of losing. It’s been a while since we had a moment to catch up, and I guess I lost track of time."

As she said it, I finally noticed the two mugs of ale on the table, both half empty. A flicker of anger rose through me, and I pulled away from her, staring accusingly at both of them. Fable’s hackles rose as he sensed my agitation through the soul bond, a low grow rising deep in his chest.

"I was so worried about you, and yet you’re...you’re..."

I broke off, struggling to keep tears from my eyes. None of this made any sense. Grace was as unpredictable as the weather itself, but I distinctly remembered her fighting with Korra to free me from the church’s clutches that fateful night so long ago. And yet she’d mercilessly ordered the Dead Wing Legion to wipe us out while she battled Korra. And now they were drinking. Why had I felt so strongly I needed to find Korra? The two were basically best friends already.

Thinking that put a slight droop in my tail, and Korra’s face took on that guilty look again. She smoothed a short lock of brown hair behind her ear, just like she did anytime she planned to apologize, but before she could speak, Grace’s eyes narrowed. The Storm Hero leaned forward toward me, emitting a bit of aura and letting a few arcs of electricity flicker through her irises.

"You’ve changed, Xiviyah," she said slowly. Her flashing eyes pinned me in place and set my heart aflutter with nervousness. I’d forgotten for a moment that she was a peak seventh-level hero and somehow lowered my guard.

"I told you," Korra muttered, still looking at me like she wanted to apologize.

Grace nodded before sitting back and taking a long drought from her mug. The pressure vanished as quickly as it came, and she looked up with a smile. "It’s a good thing, I think. Though if everything else Korra said was true, I wish you were on our side. The new Fate Hero is cool and all, but our comp is already pretty heavy on the front-line fighters. With Levin gone–dead, I guess, and R’lissea refusing to fight, we’re kind of low on battlefield support. That Nexus spell sounds really neat, all things considered."

I blinked in surprise and glanced at Korra, finding her beaming with pride. "Naturally," she replied smugly. "Even if I weren’t stronger than you, I doubt you could have broken Xiviyah’s wards. They’re insane, Grace. Do you know how awesome it is to just ignore any magic or attack weaker than sixth-level?"

"Damned monk," Grace muttered, though her smile persisted. "You had no business inventing a new class out of the blue like that. Now that I’ve seen your tricks, don’t think you’ll win so easily next time."

Korra opened her mouth to banter back, but I pressed between the two. "Grace...you know the Fate Hero?"

"Sure do," she said with a nod. "Her name is Verity. She was summoned a few months back now, and I think she’s somewhere around sixteen. She’s actually pretty cute, and has the kind of long, silver hair you’d see in an anime character."

Anime character? Like some kind of cartoon? I hadn’t ever had a chance to watch a show or movie in my last life, except for the occasional snippet of TV I saw whenever I was dragged into private rooms for a night of service. Before I could think of those dark, unwelcome times any longer, something Grace said pricked my mind.

"Front line fighter? She’s not a mage?" I asked, tilting my head in confusion.

Grace shook her head. "Nope, she uses a sword. From what Soltair said, she’s talented, too."

I bit my lip at the mention of the Sun hero, his name weighing heavily on my heart. "They fight together?"

"Practically inseparable," the Storm Hero confirmed. "The new Fate God seems to have close ties with the Sun God, so Soltair kind of took her under his wing. I’ve even heard whispers they’re in a relationship, though that could just be court gossip. I usually avoid the kind of events they frequent. Parties and banquets aren’t really my thing, not when there are gates to be closed. Which reminds me," she said, standing suddenly and staring at me, her hands resting on the edge of the table. "What the hell is going on with that Fire Gate?"

It was too much and too sudden, and I felt my knees go weak. Fable nudged me into a chair at their table, and I collapsed with my hands balled tightly in my lap. Soltair was...dating the new Fate Hero? What about Trithe? What about...me?

I felt nothing but hurt and betrayal toward Soltair, but there was a strange, twisted sense of irony in his apparent closeness with the Fate Hero. Was he just grateful to have someone who could finally stand capably at his side, to share in his heroic endeavors? Or had the Sun God ordered him to raise this ’Verity’ as a capable hero so she could earn faith for her new god? Or maybe she’d fallen for him, like so many other girls had, and now strove to be strong enough to stand by his side. There were so many possibilities, and behind it all, I could sense the schemes of the pretender Fate God. I held his divinity, the only thing keeping him from truly claiming my beloved goddess’ mantle. Surely that was one of the reasons he called a hero to this world, to take it from me.

"Xiviyah?" Korra prompted.

I flinched at the sudden sound of my name, a blush spreading across my cheek as I realized I’d ignored Grace’s question.

"S-sorry," I stammered, looking down at my lap. "I was just, um, thinking. It was a lot to take in."

"I know, but we can talk it through later. Right now, please tell Grace about the Demon Gate. She still wants to go and close it."

"That would be bad," I said quickly, looking up to meet the Storm Hero’s crackling eyes. "I don’t know what you want, or whose side you’re on, but you’ll die if you go there. The apostles are with the demon army assaulting the city, and at least one of them is eighth level."

Grace frowned. "Korra mentioned something about these apostles, but I haven’t heard a single thing about them from the church. Are they really demon heroes?"

"Something like that. I’ve met a few of them now, but I really don’t know any more than that," I admitted.

"And you really don’t think I can win?" she followed up.

I shook my head. "It’s not that you’re weak...they’re just strong. Luke even fought an arbiter once, and survived."

"I see," she said slowly. "In that case, I might have to retreat. There’s another few armies on the way to Brithlite right now, along with Victor. I’m sure we can take whatever demon horde comes out the gate together, apostles or not."

Korra raised an eyebrow, gazing at her in disbelief. "You’re retreating? You?"

Grace smacked her playfully on the arm. "Oh, shut up. Even I know when to call it quits, especially when I don’t know what I’m up against. I love fighting as much as you do, but that doesn’t mean I’m suicidal. Besides," she said, giving me a wink, "Isn’t it natural for heroes to listen to the oracle? I think that was a Greek thing, right?"

"Looks like you’re heads filled with more than tactics and a lust for combat, after all," Korra said, grinning.

I groaned and covered my face with my hands, trying to hide my blush. Just why in the world had I ever declared myself as the holder of the Oracle of Eternity? It was so embarrassing and, well, pretentious!

Just as my face was starting to return to its normal color, an explosion shook the inn. The eruption of spells and techniques constantly rocked the city, but this was different, closer. The three of us froze, our gazes moving instinctively to the door. Somewhere beyond the walls, I could feel a presence approaching, one saturated with the oily darkness of curses. The demons had entered the city.

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