The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 511: High Tensions

Chapter 511: High Tensions

When next I awoke, the tent was dark, and I was alone. There was a faint red hue on the western face of the canvas, meaning nightfall hadn’t come long ago, but everything around me was still.

It was too quiet, and as I sat up and looked around, I found the lingering mana of a sound ward. The mana bore R’lissea’s soul’s residue, and I smiled faintly. Leave it to her to make sure I enjoyed a peaceful sleep amongst a horde of literal demons.

I yawned, rolled out of bed, and stretched before slipping into a crimson dress. My hand lingered on my shoulder, tracing the smooth, flawless skin where the sun purge had once stained me. All my dresses were off-shoulder, designed to accommodate that scar, but now even that mark was gone, another layer of freedom I hadn’t realized I was missing.

Perhaps, if I ever reached a city again, I could try a dress with sleeves that didn’t leave so much skin exposed. Not that I disliked the off-shoulder style—quite the opposite—but it was nice to have the option.

My body still felt weak, but nothing like my exhaustion after reuniting with Fyren. The memory of that encounter sent a thrill through me, and I smiled, my eyes growing moist. His betrayal had been a defining moment in my life, and the realization that I had been wrong, that it hadn’t been my fault, filled me with a bittersweet relief. Bitter for all the pain the misunderstanding had caused me, but sweet now that he had returned.

I reached out and grasped my staff, summoning it in a burst of stars. Judging by the gradual fading of my strength, I had perhaps an hour or two before my body demanded rest, giving me twice as much time as I’d had before. There was no time to waste.

"Come, Fable," I called, waving my staff.

A shimmering golden portal spun into existence, filling the small tent with a blinding light and making the space feel cramped. Less than a second later, it opened into a swirling vortex, and Fable came hurtling through. My soul bond, which had felt distant and muted, suddenly flared with renewed intensity, his emotions bleeding into mine. Tears of relief welled in my eyes, and I threw myself forward, meeting Fable as he lunged towards me.

The impact of my eager wolf nearly knocked the wind out of me, but I sank to my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck and sobbing quietly into his fur. I hadn’t realized how much a part of me he had become, just how much I had missed his presence. Meeting Fyren had awakened a longing within me, a yearning for connection, and now I craved Fable’s warmth and unwavering loyalty.

Fable was no less enthusiastic. While I had spent an eternity in the soulspace slowly recovering, he had been forced to wait for months, the only sign I was alive was the soul bond between us. The distance had made it faint, and he must have worried constantly for me.

"I’m sorry for leaving you," I said, sniffling as I pressed my face against his fur, drying my tears.

There was a deep, comforting rumble in his chest, and he nuzzled my face, his tongue flicking out to dab my cheek. I giggled, tears forgotten, and pushed him away. It was good to know some things never changed.

"Did you take care of the others? Are they alright?" I asked, looking into his starlight eyes.

He gave a wolfish approximation of a smile, and I felt affirmation flowing through our bond. I had known it was the truth, that my friends were okay, but hearing it outside of a vision meant more.

I lay with Fable for a long time, just basking in his presence and petting his neck and head. It felt like a dream being with him, and I couldn’t get enough of running my fingers through his long, silky fur or hearing his throaty growls. But after a while, I remembered I had other things to do and reluctantly pulled myself away from him.

"Come on, there’s somewhere I want you to meet," I said.

He looked up curiously and rose to his feet. It was only now that I truly appreciated how big my wolf was. Even in his condensed form, his head was nearly level with mine, his entire length somewhere between fifteen and twenty feet long.

I frowned and gazed at his soul, shocked to find it at the upper levels of the seventh. It looked like Fable had been far from idle these last few months. It made me wonder what kind of battles he’d been in to grow so quickly. The Last Light Company hadn’t looked scarred by war, so what did that mean for him? Had he intentionally gone out of his way looking for fights?

With Fable by my side, I no longer felt anxious about leaving my tent and being surrounded by demons. He had proven himself in the battle of Brithlite and was more than capable of handling almost any threat. And even then, I didn’t think I’d really had a chance to see his full strength.

The moment I pushed out of the tent and crossed the threshold, I was enveloped by the chaotic fury of the infernal horde. Demonic screeches and cries rent the sky. Everywhere I looked, writhing masses of demons seethed. Everything within a couple hundred yards seemed to notice me immediately, their smoldering eyes fixing on my soul. Again, several fights broke out at once as a few demons without any self-control were driven mad from the mere presence and proximity of my soul.

Sensing my unease, Fable growled and released his aura, letting it wash over the horde like a hurricane. The weakest scions were knocked flat, and even the more powerful evolved demons bowed their heads, cowed by his sheer presence.

He let out a self-satisfied bark and glanced at me as if looking for praise. I shook my head and smiled, reaching up to rub his head between his horns.

"Thanks."

He trotted in front of me, head held high. From our bond, I could feel his contentment at again being able to fulfill his duty to safeguard me from harm. Seeing him act so immaturely for once was an endearing sight, and the warmth in my heart radiated throughout the rest of my body.

Without the constant pressure and attention of the demons, I was able to relax and focus on my soul. A moment later, I locked in on the presence of Elise and R’lissia, who were actually some distance away. I frowned and looked at the sky, finding it completely dark now. Why hadn’t they retired to their tents yet?

Regardless, I knew my strength was limited, so I climbed onto Fable’s back, urging him towards where I sensed them. He crossed through the demon horde in great leaps and bounds, exactly as I imagined he would have when I was walking to find the Fyren the night before. Or, at least, the last time I was awake. It was difficult to tell just how long I slept each time.

As we approached the area where I sensed my friends, I laid a hand on Fable’s shoulder, slowing him. A strange disturbance rippled through the mana above, like powerful auras clashing.

Their souls emanated from a large, open-walled pavilion on the far side of the camp, distant from the area where we mortals had been kept. Yet, something about it felt familiar. It took me a moment to remember where I had seen it—or rather, that Luke had seen it, and the memory had passed to me when our souls were entangled.

The thought of Luke sent a shiver down my spine, my tail twitching nervously. Was it fear or anticipation I felt? Our entanglement had muddled my perception of him, making it impossible to sort out my feelings. The only certainty was that he was dangerous, capable of anything to achieve his vengeance, even sacrificing those he held dear.

Four figures stood within the pavilion. Even from this distance, I instantly recognized Elise and R’lissea. Fyren, in his human form, stood protectively before them, arms crossed, a scowl etched on his face. And the fourth figure was, as expected, Luke. He glared at Fyren, his tail lashing with agitation, his aura flickering with unstable curse mana.

Keeping my soul shielded and Fable’s aura restrained, we crept closer. The hushed murmur of their argument reached my ears before they noticed our presence. Both R’lissea and Elise looked afraid, huddling close together behind Fyren, who stood defiantly against Luke.

"For the last time," Luke said, his voice sharp with frustration. "Do you really expect me to believe there’s still something wrong with her? I’ve seen her body; it’s not scarred at all." He fixed R’lissea with an icy glare. "So what do you mean she’s not healed yet?"

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