The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 474: Cathedral of Fate

Chapter 474: Cathedral of Fate

We arrived at the keep without me even realizing it. The walls were equally imposing, though slightly smaller than the outer defenses, and the gate hung similarly askew. The towers within still stood, the most prominent being the pair that crowned the entrance to the main building. Though my view was limited to what I could see through the broken gates, the structure within resembled a church, with a soaring roof and what was likely once stained glass windows.

Statues, adorned in elaborate armor or kingly robes, stood sentinel in nooks around the structure. A large fountain dominated the center of the inner courtyard, featuring a majestic winged dragon coiled protectively around a miniature mountain. The water must have been designed to flow from its mouth, frozen open in a silent, defiant roar towards the starlit sky.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the keep, unconsciously urging Fable closer until we stood beneath the eaves of the gate. The rest of the buildings lined the walls, leaving ample open space for the courtyards. They were all militaristic in design, resembling barracks or training facilities. I was puzzled by the existence of a church and military structures in the heart of such a beautiful city, but the juxtaposition was intriguing.

I didn’t have time to stop and explore, nor had I felt anything other than discomfort at being in Haven, but this felt different. Something stirred in the air here, alive, calling to me. I could feel it in the depths of my soul, every bit as potent as the distant cry for help coming from Haven.

Before I knew it, I’d slipped from Fable’s back and drifted into the courtyard. My footsteps echoed hollowly off the towering walls, but even Fable’s wary growl, rumbling deep in his throat, failed to catch my attention. Haven felt whole here, and I felt as close to Fate as I did before the shrine in the Heart.

In something resembling a trance, I circled the great dragon fountain and made my way up to the central building, the cathedral. The twenty-foot-tall double doors guarding the entrance were carved with a delicate star split in the middle by the seam where the two doors met. I pushed on them but quickly gave up as the weight caused my muscles to strain, upsetting the sunpurge.

"Fable," I called, glancing back to find him cautiously padding after me. "Please?"

I wrung my hands together, eyes pleading, but he glared at the door for a full second before lowering his head. I stood back as he pressed his shoulder against the door and mustered a fraction of his strength, giving what looked like a gentle touch.

The doors exploded inward with a resounding crash, torn from their hinges and sent clattering across the ground. I flinched at the noise, gripping my staff tightly long after the echoes faded. Fable, however, strutted proudly into the courtyard, his earlier caution seemingly forgotten. He ignored my reproachful look, his tail wagging playfully.

"Show off," I muttered under my breath, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

As frivolous as it was, his lighthearted display of destructive power proved better for my spirits than the entire journey through the darkened islands of Haven. It helped dispel some of the gloom and tension clinging to me like a shroud.

The interior of the cathedral was unlike any church in Enusia. Instead of ten statues depicting the gods chosen to represent the Divine Council, there was only one. The cathedral was vast and open, with a vaulted ceiling that soared hundreds of feet overhead. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling in a star-shaped pattern, their lights long extinguished by the passage of time and the encroaching decay.

The statue was of Fate, my goddess. Carved or perhaps magically sculpted from a blend of gold and translucent crystal, she stood tall and proud, her beautiful dress seemingly woven from starlight. In her hand, she held the Final Star, the staff I now carried. The statue was so realistic, so lifelike, that I half expected her to move, or at least blink. But upon closer inspection, her eyes were the only feature that seemed artificial—nothing like my goddess’s warm, kind eyes.

The statue, an imposing thirty feet tall, stood upon a raised pedestal engraved with countless runes, most of which I couldn’t decipher. A broader circle of runes—a magic circle, perhaps—looped around the center of the hall, with the statue at its head.

It was here, in this grand hall, that the power I felt stirring in Haven was most concentrated. The strands of fate woven throughout my realm were calm and tranquil here, woven tightly as they were meant to be. Any thought I had of reaching the heart, or of pushing onward toward the rift, vanished, replaced by the surety that this place was right. This was where I could tap into the power of fate.

Yet, the feeling of being watched didn’t fade; it only grew stronger as we ventured into the cavernous hall. Fable paced restlessly, circling me as I moved to the center of the magic circle and sat on the cold stone floor, tucking my legs beneath me and holding my staff horizontally across my lap. Sitting here placed me directly before the statue of the goddess, her gaze fixed upon me with those empty, vacant eyes.

"Fate, guide me. Please," I pleaded, my voice breaking mid-prayer. "I don’t know what to do. How can I save her? How can I save all of them?"

My prayer went unanswered, but that was expected. I bowed my head and tightened my grip on my staff, my shoulders rising and falling in a deep, shuddering breath. My mana pulsed through my soul in time with my beating heart, and for a moment, I was perfectly still, at one with the weave of fate that surrounded me.

"Show me," I whispered, "Please."

The world dissolved as I activated the Oracle of Eternity, letting it rise and flow unchecked, like a raging river. This time, I didn’t seek to control it and just fed it my desperate desire for guidance, trusting fate to do the rest.

When I opened my eyes, it was to the brilliant glare of sunlight. I stood, in soul form, in the midst of another church. The architecture was familiar, as was the massive Shard of Omniscience floating quietly in the middle. This was the church in Brithlite, the very same one we had first teleported to the Northern Continent.

Groups of priests and black-robed cultists milled about the spacious room, casting spells or examining dozens of small crystals resting on stands erected around the shard. Threads of mana wound between the crystals, binding them together and building something resembling a three-dimensional magic circle. While it seemed complicated from the outside, the principle was like carving a magic circle in the floor for a more permanent or more potent effect.

"How go the preparations?"

Alverin’s commanding voice cut through the chaos as the man himself strode into the chapel. My chest tightened as I turned and saw Elise on his arm, her eyes vacant and wearing a dreamy smile. With her revealing silk dress and breasts squished against Alverin’s bicep, she looked like little more than a doll, taken out to show off to the nobles.

Another figure followed close behind, shrouded in an all-black robe that concealed their features. They stood tall and straight, radiating an air of authority, suggesting an advisor or, perhaps, an equal to Alverin. Their soul pulsed with a powerful, unique energy reminiscent of Luke or Gayron, but something about them tugged at the edges of my memory. It was an itch I couldn’t scratch, a nagging familiarity I couldn’t quite place. Where had I seen them before?

"My Lord, all things are in order. But are you sure this will work?" one of the robed cultists asked, gesturing to the formation of crystals. He was powerful, on the threshold of breaking into the seventh level.

Alverin’s eyes narrowed. "Do you doubt my word?"

"O-of course not! It’s just that, well, the court mages worry that—"

Alverin cut him off, leaning in close, his voice a silky whisper. "I assure you, Telve, the source for this magical formation can’t be underestimated. You should take it as if a hero themself designed it. You’d believe it then, wouldn’t you?"

The robed figure folded their arms and smirked, but the cultists, blinded by their devotion to Alverin, remained oblivious.

"And you’re certain it will overwhelm their defenses?" Telve pressed, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

Alverin glanced at the robed stranger out of the corner of his eye. They gave a subtle nod.

"One pulse from this," he said, his voice dripping with confidence, "will have them begging on their knees. You’ll have first pick then, Telve, though I trust you know which ones belong to me."

Telve swallowed, his gaze flickering towards the robed figure. "Yes, my Lord. I’ll prepare our forces for their arrival and trust in the curse."

"You do that," Alverin dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The vision dissolved as Alverin turned and left, leaving me once more in the dim light of the cathedral. Fate’s statue still watched me, and I returned her empty gaze, my mind racing. This vision had been far from fruitless.

"So that’s how it is," I murmured to myself, a smile tugging at my lips. "That’s something I can work with."