The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 41: Fallen Walls

Chapter 41: Fallen Walls

Agony seared my soul, sending fiery tendrils of pain throughout my body. I was still sleeping, but the pain seeped through, reaching deep and invading my dreams. Those were the same as they always were, plunging me into the endless, shadowy corridors of the Divine Throne. The Fire, the faces, and the terror were amplified by my injuries, swirling me about like a tempest and crashing against the shores of my insecurities. When Soltair’s visage finally consumed me, I jolted awake, cheeks wet with tears.

"Xiviyah!"

Soltair bent over me, his face overlapping with the fading remnants of the nightmare. I flinched as he touched my face, but relaxed when I realized what was happening. This Soltair would never hurt me.

He looked tired and worn, his face long with worry. Of all his previous injuries, only a faint white scar on his neck remained. I lay back in my room, in the slave quarters. The magical lights shone brightly, casting heavy shadows against the walls.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to sit up. An overwhelming pain struck me the instant I moved, driving me back down. I squeezed my eyes shut, hissing at the fire in my soul.

"Shhh, take it easy," he said, helping me sit on the bed with my legs dangling over the edge.

I focused on his gentle touch as he stroked my hair, running his hand around the contours of my horns. After some of the longest seconds of my life, the pain faded. I hesitantly opened my eyes again, cracking them open at first to make sure the pain didn’t return.

"Everything’s okay," Soltair said, withdrawing his hand. I looked at him, pleading until he returned it with a small smile. "You hurt yourself pretty badly, but the priests said you’ll make a full recovery."

"Did we win?" My memories of the duel were fuzzy, and after Soltair’s defeat, an ugly black darkness stained everything.

"We did. A few tried to claim you fainted first, but after reviewing the recording, it became obvious you bested the War Hero."

I beat Ronin? I couldn’t even fight, so how was that possible? The memories trickled back as I opened my mouth to question the absurd statement. I recalled with growing horror burning my soul to cast the final spell. Ronin’s bloody body falling to the ground was the final memory that clicked into place, prompting tears to gather in my eyes. His face, twisted with shock and pain, stared at me through time, as real as the moment I hit him. Why did I always have to hurt people? Why wouldn’t they leave me alone? "I-Is he dead?" I asked softly.

"Ronin? Unfortunately no. If I could, I’d kill the bastard myself." Soltair’s voice was a low rumble seething with anger. His hand clenched in a fist, his knuckles turning white as he spoke. "I witnessed the things he said and did to you. If we ever duel again, I swear I’ll-"

"It’s alright," I said, squeezing his hand. "I-I was afraid I...you know. Like the priests."

"The Pope pulled him out quick enough, personally casting a healing spell to bring him back from the brink. Although I haven’t seen him around, I’m sure he’s stronger than ever," he snorted, only now letting his anger go.

"How much time has passed?" I asked.

"You’ve been sleeping for three days. Xiviyah, please, don’t ever do that again," he said earnestly. "The priests said burning your soul can be permanently crippling, if not fatal. We got lucky this time."

"I didn’t want you to lose. Not after everything he said."

"Me? What about you? If we’d lost that duel, they’d ship you off to who knows where! Plenty of nobles have a sadistic, twisted side to them, and I’m sure they’d love to get their hands on a young, beautiful girl like you. Especially a hero, at that."

I shivered, imagining the grinning men I often fell prey to in my previous life. Despite my revulsion, I couldn’t help but feel resigned. "It doesn’t matter what happens to me. I’m just a slave, and-"

"That’s not true," Soltair said quietly. "Not to me."

My tail stiffened as his hand caressed my cheek, falling to cup my chin. I let out a soft breath as he lifted my head and looked into my eyes. His face was downcast and shrouded in shadows, but a thrill danced down my spine as I met his gaze. His eyes blazed with conviction, brighter than any sun and more genuine than the purest mirror.

"I will always be there. Even when demons invade, and hellfire rains from the sky, I will protect you."

I looked away as a soft blush spread across my cheeks. "Soltair..." I mumbled, wishing I could stop my tail from twitching.

He smiled and sat on the bed, laying his hand on mine. A tranquil silence descended within the room, and he squeezed my hand firmly. After a minute, Soltair shifted, and I could feel him gathering air in his chest.

"Please," I whispered, "just a little longer."

He paused, and I took advantage of his hesitation to snuggle against him, leaning my head against his shoulder. His body went rigid, and I blushed at my own forwardness, but I couldn’t let this opportunity slip by. I knew he had something important to discuss, but, just for the moment, I wanted to feel peace.

After a moment, he relaxed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I sank into the embrace, finding solace in his warmth. Time seemed to slow as we sat there, finding comfort in the serenity of the moment.

Eventually, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, looking up at him. "Alright, I’m ready. Sorry for my selfishness."

"There’s nothing to forgive," he said, although his voice sounded a little forced.

Worried, I looked up and was startled to see him blushing. With a jolt, I realized my dress’ sleeves had slipped down my shoulders, revealing way too much of my chest. Had it been like that the whole time?

"Ahh!" I cried, turning scarlet as I hurriedly tugged at the white cloth, adjusting the dress until it properly rested on my shoulders again.

He let out an embarrassed chuckle, looking away until I finished. "Don’t worry; it’s not like you have much to hide, anyway."

"Hey!" I cried, hitting him in the arm. "If that’s how you feel, why don’t you ask Ronin if he’d share some of his harem with you? They had more than enough to go around!"

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry," he said, rubbing his arm. I knew he was only pretending it hurt, and I couldn’t help hitting him again.

"Alright, I get it," he laughed, wrapping me up in a hug and pinning my arms. I groaned as the movement ignited the pain in my soul, and he hurriedly let me go.

The pain caused my muscles to tense, and I leaned against him for support. It hurt enough to bring tears to my eyes, but I was oddly satisfied when it finally faded. At least he looked guilty about something. Did Karma exist in this world?

"Xiviyah, there’s something we need to talk about," he said after apologizing profusely. "The Summer Solstice is upon us, when the Sun Festival takes place. It marks the six-month anniversary of when we were summoned to the world. It’s when we’ll have to leave and go out into the world."

Has it really been that long? My time as a hero was extremely short compared to the others, as I spent the first few months locked away at the warehouse. To me, the time at the Divine Throne, as hard as it had been, was much too short. The duel with the War Hero had shown me just how unprepared I was to stand amongst them. Did the world still even expect that of me?

My expression must have revealed some of my fears, because Soltair’s face softened. "Don’t worry, we’ll be able to stay together. The other heroes are going to gather here before the festival, which is about two weeks away. Ronin’s already here, as we know all too well, but I don’t think we’ll meet any trouble like that again. After the festival, there will be a friendly tournament amongst all the heroes to see how they’ve grown."

"Will I be able to fight with you?"

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I don’t think so. This is different from the formal duel with Ronan. There won’t be any stakes, and it is actually a performance for the festival. There will be a big parade and everything, so don’t worry about it."

"That’s a relief. I doubt I could last more than a handful of moves against anyone like you two,’’ I said, thinking of the battle between Soltair and Ronin. If the War Hero hadn’t tried to embarrass me with magic, there would have been no chance of winning.

"Don’t discount your strengths, Xiviyah. Your spells hold power most mages can only dream of."

I looked up at him in surprise. "I’m not sure I understand. I’ve only just begun using fourth-circle spells, while you can cast sixth."

"This isn’t about how many circles you can use. Don’t you think it’s strange your Aegis spell can hold against spells two or three circles higher than it?"

"That’s not true. It didn’t even slow Ronin’s Blood Reckoning, which is why you..." I fell silent, unable to meet his eyes. I shivered as I recalled the pain on Soltair’s face as the spear plunged into his neck, and the blood which turned the stones of the arena red.

"Why I died? That’s hardly fair, considering that was a sixth-circle attack that had gathered mana for most of the fight. Not even the gods could do anything about it with a first-circle spell."

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Even if I ignored Ronin’s attacks, Aegis fared well against his harem, stopping many of their magical attacks that should have exceeded it in power.

"Oh," I said, unable to deny it any longer.

For some reason, admitting aloud took a weight off my shoulders. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t useless in a fight, that Soltair only encouraged me out of pity. It was an encouraging thought, and I found myself feeling lighter. Has it all been in my mind all along? Was I truly not a burden?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I finally accepted his words, gratitude, and relief filling my heart. I reached, grasping his hand tightly. "Thank you," I whispered. The words were far from enough, but I didn’t know what else to say. "Thank you."