The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 470: Rings

Chapter 470: Rings

I turned and looked back, craning my neck for a final glimpse of Liceria as it disappeared behind the rolling hills. The sky had been a muted gray when Korra pounded on my door, dragging me from the warmth of my bed. By the time we left the city, the sun had only just begun to peek over its walls. Now, Liceria was out of sight, but the memory of its resilient people lingered. They were the ones I fought for, the ones who needed liberation.

Just like Elise.

The Last Light Company had nearly doubled in size after absorbing most of the defeated army. The Church’s forces had been all but destroyed, their loyalty to the gods unshakeable to the bitter end. But those who surrendered after the curse was broken were spared. Bethiv welcomed those disillusioned by the crown to our side, leaving us with more recruits than we knew what to do with.

They all recognized me as their savior, of course, something I’d reluctantly accepted as inevitable. I didn’t mind the occasional thanks, but the near-fanaticism of the new soldiers was almost equal to that of the original company. Overwhelming by any standard, certainly by my own timid nature.

Thankfully, Fable and Kahlen stuck by my side at all times, their intimidating presence discouraging anyone from approaching. As we traveled, I rode with Sari on Fable’s back, sharing what I’d learned about enchantments.

"Look, am I doing it?" she asked, her eyes fixed on a small, folded handkerchief in her hands.

I smiled faintly, about to remind her of the difficulty of enchanting, when I paused, my tail stiffening in surprise. "S-Sari? How did you..."

"I did it!" she exclaimed, tearing her gaze away from the napkin and looking up at me with a triumphant grin. "Look, it’s so light!"

"That’s...well, amazing," I said, feeling a little light-headed, "I can’t believe you picked it up so quickly."

"All because you’re the best teacher," she said. "But it still took me, like, twenty minutes. I bet you mastered it in five, right?"

"Something like that," I mumbled, looking away, a blush creeping onto my cheeks. "But anyway, it’s really impressive. You should be proud."

I decided to stop teaching Sari after that. She just wanted to learn more about enchantments, and I didn’t have the heart to admit I knew nothing more than that. She didn’t seem to mind, though, and quickly got distracted enchanting every scrap of cloth she had in her spatial ring.

The Brithlite countryside was indeed beautiful, its gentle slopes and manicured fields offering a stark contrast to the wild, untamed landscapes of Heartland. Bethiv set a brisk pace for the army, mile after mile dissolving beneath our feet as the sun blazed overhead, a final farewell to the warmth of summer. The hills were dotted with groves of young trees, their leaves ablaze in vibrant red, yellow, and orange. The air was crisp and clean, the occasional rustle of leaves a welcome counterpoint to the muted rhythm of marching boots.

After a while, I found myself watching Gayron and Korra. They walked side-by-side, their hands brushing occasionally. I couldn’t fathom why she wanted to be so close to him, or at what point their constant bickering had lost its sharp edge. When Gayron first arrived, they’d clashed relentlessly, but now it felt more... playful. Flirtatious, even.

No, I shook my head, that’s ridiculous. He was an Apostle of the Infernal Hosts. He’d threatened to kill us both multiple times, and had almost succeeded. Whenever I caught him watching me, my chest tightened, and the phantom sensation of his claws around my neck returned, scorching my flesh. Even though he claimed to be grateful for the healing of his soul and showed no signs of betrayal, I couldn’t trust him. He was just like Levin, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, he himself had said we were enemies.

But I couldn’t ignore him, not after the vision of our defeat at Brithlite. Somehow, they had been prepared for us and had laid a trap. And unlike in Liceria, I wouldn’t be able to escape it.

At least, that was how Fate told the story now. There were still two weeks until we reached the capital city, giving me some time to figure out how to rewrite that ending. But how was I supposed to defeat a curse that could enslave our entire army at once? I’d revealed my hand to them, showing them the power of Mana Storm so they would expect it. There would be at least two heroes there, as well, not to mention powerful inquisitors and any other reinforcements the rest of the world could muster. We were about to attack a fortress prepared to face the entire Infernal Horde, and we were doing it alone.

And that brought me back to Gayron, or more accurately, the forces he represented. If Brithlite was ready to fight the demons, perhaps we should let them.

It took me the better part of an hour to gather my thoughts, formulate a plan, and muster the courage to urge Fable forward at a faster trot, catching up to the two ahead. I braced myself, anticipating Gayron’s scowl or a derisive snort.

"Um, Gayron?" I ventured hesitantly.

He was too engrossed in laughter at something Korra said to notice my timid voice. Swallowing my nerves, I tried again, louder this time. "Gayron!"

They both turned, and the demonkin glanced over, a touch of annoyance flickering across his features. "What?"

It was as curt a response as I expected, but I still flinched, tightening my grip on Fable’s fur. "I was, um, wondering about your ring," I stammered.

He stumbled, nearly tripping right into Korra. She caught him with a laugh, then playfully shoved him back.

"Ring?" Korra’s laughter faded as her eyes narrowed. "Are you planning something with a ring?"

Gayron paled, his composure momentarily shattered. "O-of course not!" he sputtered. "She meant this one, right?" He hastily raised his hand, displaying a tight band of silver on his index finger, inlaid with a small ruby winking in the sunlight.

I loosened my grip on Fable, relaxing slightly as he showed me the ring, but still puzzled by their overreaction. It was just a ring, right? "Yeah, the one that lets you teleport. I don’t mean to pry, but is there any chance for you to tell me how it works?"

"Oh, is that all?" He looked relieved for some reason, not at all like he was about to divulge secrets about forbidden magic. Not that the ring could be anything else, since teleporting was something only ninth-level souls with a Shard of Omniscience should be able to do.

"The ring functions pretty simply, actually," he explained. "It’s soul-bound, so only I can use it. There’s a big ritual involving a lot of messy factors that lets me bind it to a specific location. I can activate it by feeding it some mana, and it takes me right back to that spot."

"Is that it? There are no limitations?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Not really, though there’s a week-long cooldown before it can be activated again. And it can’t send you back to where you were. It’s a one-way trip."

"Oh." My shoulders slumped at that. "So you haven’t been using it to keep in touch with Luke?"

His eyebrows rose. "Luke? Is this whole thing about him?"

I blushed furiously, mortified. "N-no, not like that!"

"It is, isn’t it?" Korra asked, grinning mischievously. "You just wanted to borrow it and see him again, didn’t you?"

"That’s not it at all!" I protested, my blush deepening. "I was just, um, wondering what it can do. Alverin has one too, and—"

Gayron’s face froze, his teasing smile vanishing. "What?" he asked, his voice sharp.

I nodded, seizing the distraction. "Y-yeah, all of the members of the Circle had one. I think the one I killed in Liceria had one too, but I didn’t give him a chance to use it."

"That’s... not possible," Gayron said, rubbing his horn in disbelief. He glanced at Korra uncertainly, clearly doubting my words.

"It’s true," she confirmed with a nod.

"Gods above," Gayron muttered, his voice heavy with self-recrimination. "How did we not know this? Was I really this blind?"

Korra leaned forward, her hand reaching out to grasp his. "What is it, Gayron? What’s wrong?"

My heart sank at his reaction. Even before he said anything, I knew the answer.

"The rings come from the demons, don’t they?" I asked softly, my voice constricted with fear.

He nodded, his face pale. "Yeah, they were gifts from the Emperor of Curses. Luke gave them to all the apostles, but I think he had a few extra."

The blood drained from my face. Luke had the rings? But that would mean....but he hated the circle, didn’t he? He knew what they did to him, what they did to me. He couldn’t...right?

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