The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 440: The Chosen Path

Chapter 440: The Chosen Path

"Ah, Xiviyah, thank you for joining us."

Bethiv’s voice welcomed me into the spacious command tent, instantly dispelling the lingering embarrassment from moments before. Even so, I stiffened, and my tail curled protectively around my leg as I scanned the room, met by the piercing gazes of nearly a dozen high-ranking officers from the Last Light Company.

I finally relaxed, taking my first full breath since entering, as my eyes found Jackal. He was lounging with one leg casually draped over the armrest of his chair, his scarred face creased in a warm, familiar smile. It was a breath of fresh air to see him completely at ease among the stiff and disciplined officers, and I couldn’t help but recall the first time we met when he’d appeared in nothing but his small clothes to protect me from the infernal monster’s attack.

"Thank you," I said, smiling faintly at Bethiv. "What is it you wished to discuss?"

He motioned to a chair between Jackal and another familiar face: Joel, which I gratefully took. The duel with Gayron had strained me more than I cared to admit, and I was still recovering from my week-long sleep.

"I’m sorry for bringing you here on such short notice, but several things have happened that merit our immediate attention," Bethiv said, nodding to another officer I didn’t recognize.

The man cleared his throat and stood, leaning over the table, which held a detailed map of Brithlite. He was older, with a sixth-level soul, likely a veteran of the original Last Light Company adventuring team.

"My name is Avrass, my Lady, lead ranger of the Last Light Company’s scouts. Yesterday, we received a rather disturbing report. The Fire Demon in eastern Brithlite has crossed into Gornrod Territory and has since annihilated several major cities. At the same time, the demon army in Brithlite, led by the Apostle Luke, has taken Watch Hill, a major trade town that controls all goods flowing in and out of the Capital."

"The invasion into Gornrod has put the neighboring kingdoms in a difficult position. It’s starting to sink into their stubborn, royal skulls that this war won’t remain contained. Brithlite might be first, but it certainly won’t be last," another officer interjected, his voice laced with grim resignation.

A third officer nodded, rubbing his gray stubble as his eyes traced the map. "Resupply will be a challenge. Our stores will last a few months longer, but the villages and towns we’ve passed have nothing to spare. Morale is also becoming a concern. Many of the men have families in the cities taken by the demons, and none of them have been home in over a year."

Several others chimed in with logistical concerns, likely typical for an army of this size. I had no understanding of such matters, no clue where to even begin. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to share my ignorance, and as the last officer concluded his report, all eyes turned to me, heavy with expectation. I shifted in my seat, my tail wrapping anxiously around the chair leg.

With little hope of escape, I turned to the map, but the lines and names blurred into a meaningless jumble. Little markers and carved pieces signified troop movements, cities, and points of interest, but I couldn’t make sense of them, nor could I tell which direction the map was even facing. Soltair had never allowed me to see the map when he planned our routes, and since then, I’d been too busy running and hiding to learn anything about cartography. I’d only ever seen maps in visions of war councils like this one, but I’d never had the chance to study them, let alone learn how to read one.

"W-which one’s Gornrod?" I finally stammered, wilting under the weight of their stares.

The soldiers blinked in unison, and a few let out exasperated sighs. Jackal just shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. "I told you we should have talked to her first. It’s not fair, dropping a sweet girl like her in the middle of a war."

He chuckled, seemingly oblivious to my embarrassment, and reached out, his large hand resting on my head and rubbing gently between my horns. My hands tightened in my lap as I squirmed, mortified, a steady heat rising in my cheeks. The agitated swishing of my tail was audible in the silence that followed, and I stared down at my lap, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes. The very familiarity that had once put me at ease now turned against me, a betrayal as sharp as any sword.

Just when I felt like I was about to die of embarrassment, Bethiv coughed lightly. "Jackal, I know you’re fond of her; we all are, but there’s no need to treat her like a child."

"Indeed," Avrass, the scout from before, added, his voice clipped. "We only agreed to let her sit by you because she knew you best." His scowl was directed at Jackal, but I shivered nonetheless. I had the feeling the ranger didn’t disapprove of Jackal’s actions, but of something else entirely.

Surprisingly, none of the soldiers laughed at me. Instead, their gazes were soft and understanding, if slightly amused. They looked at me like I was a kitten or a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest. A strange warmth welled up in my chest, and the tension in my shoulders eased a fraction. That is, until Jackal’s face widened into a savage grin.

"How long have we been together? Thirty, forty years? And yet you still think you can pretend you’re not jealous? Have a little dignity. We’re the Last Light Company, remember?"

I stared at them all, wide-eyed, feeling a lot more like a fallen bird than a kitten. A few officers coughed, discreetly averting their eyes, while others scowled and crossed their arms, refusing to take the bait. Bethiv just sighed and shook his head, his hand rising to massage his temple.

"Gods, how the hell did we ever survive back then?" he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat. "Jackal, enough. Xiviyah is the Oracle of Eternity, not your granddaughter, and I won’t have you embarrassing her to death. Now, if we could please return to the matter of logistics. Xiviyah, the truth is, no matter how tired you are, we need to move soon."

Jackal reluctantly retrieved his hand, but it took me a full minute to recover enough to speak, and even then my tail continued to twitch agitatedly, the blush refusing to fade from my cheeks.

"I don’t really understand what’s going on, or the kinds of problems armies have," I admitted, my voice hesitant. "But you are all here because you want to follow me, right?"

Bethiv nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, and please, don’t misunderstand. No one here expects you to be capable of running an army or handling the logistics of keeping ten thousand people alive and in fighting shape. But just as we are your followers, you are our leader, and we need that overall vision. If you want us to fight a war, just say where, and against whom. We’ll sort out the details."

His words warmed my heart and soothed the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Never before had I felt so unqualified and unprepared for anything as when I walked into this tent. It was a relief to know they didn’t have any unrealistic expectations of me. I was confident in my magic and, to some degree, in fate, but my understanding of almost anything else was severely limited.

I took a deep breath and faced the officers and mages, a newfound confidence bolstering my voice. "I-it’s selfish," I admitted, twirling a strand of crimson hair around my finger, "but I want to save Elise. And destroy the magic they’re using to enslave people."

"That’s something we can all agree on," Bethiv said in a low, resonant voice.

The temperature in the tent plummeted as the others nodded in unison, their eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. Their anger was justified; they had all been enslaved and forced to fight their own friends and kin. The undisguised bloodlust stirred a familiar echo within me, Luke’s anger and thirst for vengeance rippling through the depths of my soul.

Our souls had long since separated, but at times like this, his memory and emotions imprinted themselves upon me. That was what had happened yesterday when I almost drove Korra away. I shivered at the thought and glanced longingly at the door, wishing Fable were close enough to touch, to remind me of who I was and what I truly wanted. Their anger might be justified, but I knew now that the path of vengeance was as dark as the chains and dungeons I had come from. Alverin would find no mercy from me, but I couldn’t allow myself to be consumed by that darkness.

"So, it’s war, then?" Bethiv asked softly, his gaze piercing into mine.

I hesitated, the tip of my tail twitching anxiously. War. If I chose this path, peace would torn apart, cities would burn, and thousands would perish. The Last Light Company was a force to be reckoned with, more powerful than almost any army on Enusia. With Korra, myself, and the unreliable aid of those who currently allied with us, I doubted we would be stopped.

I looked at my hands, gripping my skirt tightly. Connor had seen my soul blacker than the depths of hell, burdened by the souls I had caused to suffer and fall. it was a prophecy, of sorts, of the path I would walk. Of the countless innocent who would die.

Aurle had been innocent. She had done nothing but love and care for me when no one else would. I only made it to Heartland because of her sacrifice, because she died so that I might have a chance to live and learn to smile.

Elise was innocent, yet she still lived under the shadow of the Heart Crest. Was she worth less than the innocent people whose names I didn’t know? A faint pressure emanated from my soul, causing the edges of the map to rise and the tent to flap. Her smile was gone, her spirit twisted into something unrecognizable by the horrors Alverin had inflicted upon her. She had begged him to violate her.

I could never forgive that. Even if it meant staining my soul with blood.

"It is," I said softly, my voice unwavering. I met the gazes of the soldiers around me, watching as their expressions hardened to mirror my own. "Let us go to war. For freedom for all souls. For Elise."