The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 517: Tainted

Chapter 517: Tainted

The curse demon hissed at the sight of me, her eyes narrowing. "Why have you brought a Tainted here, Devoted?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Is there not enough filth here already?"

She swept a hand towards the other demonkin, whose expression tightened. They didn’t react further but lowered their eyes, refusing to challenge her.

I expected Fyren to erupt in anger or at least defend me, but he barely spared her a glance. Instead, he strode into the pavilion, his towering demon form casting a long shadow over the others.

"Apostle of Curses," he said, his voice resonating with power, "What is it you wish to know? If your only intent is to insult my Oracle, be grateful if I don’t incinerate your entire army as I leave."

Fyren’s aura flared, suffocating the weaker demons and demonkin, causing the illusory map to waver. I instinctively stepped back, groping for Fable, my tail swishing nervously. I had never seen Fyren so domineering, and I couldn’t tell if he was bluffing. Was this how demons negotiated at a war council?

While the others cowered, Luke merely sighed, gesturing towards the map with a hint of annoyance. He shot the curse demon a subtle glare.

"Forgive me, Lord of Ash," he said, maintaining the same politeness he had displayed earlier. "This fortress is the last line of defense for the Ingrid Alliance. Once we take it, the entire Alliance will be open to us. There are seven demon gates open in their lands, which, if we can reach in time, will almost double our available forces."

Fyren crossed his arms, studying the map. "And what would you ask of me?"

Luke hesitated, a slight, almost imperceptible twitch running down his tail. "They’ve managed to persuade a company of Church mages to support them. Our spies in the city tell us there’s a seventh-level sun mage among them. While I could crush them eventually, taking the city would prove costly with their mana cannons."

"You have thousands of scions at your command," Fyren said dismissively. "I’m astounded you ask me to take action when your forces seem sufficient."

One of the other demonkin tentatively raised his head. "Lord of Ash," he pleaded, "our troops were severely weakened in the battle for Brithlite. While they yearn for more bloodshed and destruction, we barely outnumber the enemy. Without your Devoted, we’ll—"

"Leave it to a Tainted to beg from those bastards," the curse demon spat, her words venomous. The demonkin glared at her but remained silent. "Even if it costs us," she continued, "there’s no reason to lower ourselves to such scum."

The blade demon nodded in agreement. "I, too, find appealing to those characters unsavory. Why not take the city by stratagem? Surely, there are weak points we could exploit. The forts, for instance." It gestured towards the small points representing the outward defenses on the illusory map. "If we take those, we could commandeer the cannons and turn them on the city."

"Y-you can’t!" Driven by a wave of desperation, I blurted out before I could stop myself. Their eyes snapped towards me, burning with anger and annoyance, and I shrank back, clutching the hem of my dress in a white-knuckled grip. "I... I mean, um, they’re too strong. It’ll kill everyone, even the innocent civilians!"

A heavy silence fell, suffocating me with their disapproval. Fyren groaned and shook his head in disbelief.

"Who permitted the Tainted to speak?" the curse demon demanded, glaring at Luke. "You are too lenient on this filth, sparing her after the destruction she wreaked on our army. Your slaves should be kept in line."

Slave? The word struck me like a physical blow, stealing my breath. I stumbled backward, gasping for air, but a painful tightness constricted my chest. I looked at Luke, pleading with him to deny it, but he refused to meet my gaze. I pressed a hand to my chest, my fingers curling into a fist. I wasn’t a slave. Luke had never said that. But why wasn’t he denying it?

My eyes fell on Jessia, who was doing nothing to hide a smirk. She didn’t even notice me; her attention was focused on the exchange between the curse demon and Luke, and her eyes were bright with amusement. Had it been her? No, if it had been, wouldn’t Luke be protesting? Just what was happening?

"That’s enough, Ixtra," Luke said, his voice tight with warning.

"No, Ixtra is right. You’ve protected her long enough," the blade demon broke in, his voice sharp and steely. "What was your excuse again? She can ’see visions’?" she scoffed. "As if such a thing is possible."

"You doubt my word?" Luke asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

The blade demon hesitated, looking less confident. "Er, not exactly," it stammered. "I only meant it is unlikely. But if it is true, wouldn’t this be an ideal opportunity to use her? She’s drained our resources long enough and, as Ixtra pointed out, killed many demons in that... accident. Why not have her make up for it with a vision that can secure us an easy victory?"

Luke tapped his fingers on the edge of the conjured map, his eyes finally settling on me. I flinched as they met mine, quickly looking away, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. This was what I had feared yet resolved to do. Elise and R’lissea were counting on me, and with the demons pressuring him, Luke would naturally cave. From a tactical perspective, there was no reason not to.

"I-I can’t," I stammered, wilting under their intense scrutiny. "M-my soul is... the darkness..."

"A likely story," Ixtra sneered, baring her teeth. "I can sense no curses or darkness on you. Only a sense of—" She sat bolt upright, eyes going wider than I thought possible. "That’s... no, it can’t be!"

"Ixtra, enough already," Luke said sharply, raising his voice for the first time. The table fell quiet, save for the constant sizzle of air on Fyren’s molten scales.

Luke rubbed his horn, thinking quickly. I held my breath, tail twitching anxiously, shivering as he stared at me unblinkingly.

"Tell me honestly, Xiviyah," he finally said. "Can you give me a vision?"

I shook my head. "I-I can’t, not unless you want, um, it to happen again. I don’t know that I could control it."

"You mean that if you try, those shadows might come out again?"

There was a peculiar glint in his eye that I didn’t like, but I nodded anyway.

"Very well, I think I understand for now. Lord of Ash, I would ask you to please consider lending us your forces or, if you are willing, breaking their walls yourself. I doubt they could stop one such as you, and I can promise you half the souls in the city in return."

"I shall think about it, but I make no promises." Fyren glanced at me, then gave Luke a meaningful nod. Luke seemed to understand whatever he hoped to convey by that, and his expression relaxed.

"Thank you. In that case, there is nothing more for us to discuss with you. You may take your leave whenever."

Without another word, Fyren turned and strode away. Fable and I hasten to follow, the furious stares of the two demons digging into my back.

"They don’t like me, do they," I whispered, trembling a bit.

Fyren paused, his expression softening as he heard the distress in my voice. "They belong to a purist faction within the infernal realms that despise demonkin as much as mortals, if not more, for their tainted blood. Do not let them bother you; they wouldn’t dare do more than spit hurtful words. If they did, I would raze their army to the ground."

I nodded, but couldn’t shake the dejection that weighed me down. In an effort to distract myself from their cruel words, especially the accusation of being Luke’s slave, I asked about the other armies displayed on the map.

"Why aren’t all the demons gathered together?"

He shook his head, letting out a wry chuckle. "As you just witnessed, demons aren’t known for their camaraderie. Their absolute disregard for death makes infighting common, and the soul mark can only do so much to tame those instincts."

"So that’s why the apostles are in different camps," I mused, "because all the demons have a different soul mark."

He nodded. "Each of the apostles commands their own army, with the exception of the Apostle of Secrets. The Apostles of Air and Gravity are here, coordinating with Luke to conquer the northern continent. Aside from the Apostle of Fire, the rest are on the southern continent."

The Apostle of Air... I had seen him battling Grace in the vision I’d shown Gayron and Korra. Things had unfolded quite differently in reality. In that possible future, the airship had been revealed during the battle. Perhaps it was the same future Verity had seen, the one where they succeeded in capturing me and subduing the Last Light Company. If that had happened, they could have held back their secret weapon until the demon horde arrived instead of being forced to use it prematurely against us.

The Apostle of Gravity was the strangely colored demonkin who had been with Luke before. She’d felt almost sisterly to the Apostle of Curses, and I found myself liking her. There hadn’t been much chance to interact, but if I remained among the demons for much longer, that would undoubtedly change.