The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 532: Another Chance

Chapter 532: Another Chance

I pressed a hand to my chest, fingers curling into a loose fist. "The same way you know about her," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

Aurle. I didn’t even have to say her name for her face to flicker through my mind. I’d been too weak to save her back then. I would never let that happen again, even if it cost me everything. I would stop the rift from spreading to Enusia and protect those dear to me.

Luke was silent and spared a long glance toward the swirling gate. He didn’t need to ask who I was referring to; he’d already seen her in my memories.

"What about you? What will happen if I leave?" he finally asked, his gaze returning to me.

"And what would that matter? You broke the city and got what you wanted."

"I don’t know," he said, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair. The twitching of his tail increased, matching mine. "But it does."

The edges of the gate began to flicker and withdraw in on themselves. I turned my back pointedly and began to walk away. I already knew what he would choose. The vow I’d spoken of was the thing that unlocked his apostleship. It had been a desperate prayer to anyone who was listening, be it god or demon, that he would gain the strength to tear down those that had murdered his sister. And ultimately, it was an oath against the gods, to hurt them wherever possible, and failing that, to at least spit in their eye.

I hadn’t seen much more than that in the memory fragments, only that a demon emperor had managed to answer and grant him the apostolic ability, starting him on the path of war. It was that vow that formed the center of every thought, every plan he made. It was how he’d decided that my life and feelings were a justifiable cost to take this fortress with minimum losses.

I couldn’t blame him for it; I would have done the same had I felt what he felt, had I become the person he had become. I’d chosen a path of healing and forgiveness, yet it was that very thing that led me to this perceived betrayal, abandoned by Luke. It was a bitter irony that we both came from such similar roots and yet it had left me here, cold and alone, abandoned by he who had chosen vengeance.

After I hadn’t heard him following me, I let my shoulders sag and breathed a tired sigh. It was the obvious choice, yet I’d held out some hope that maybe, just maybe, Luke could be different from Soltair. But people on their level didn’t have room for things like feelings. Their power came from their unwavering devotion, and compared to that, I was just... a tool.

A hand closed around mine, stopping me in my tracks. I froze, heart fluttering in my chest, and looked back to see a strong, calloused hand clutching my delicate fingers tightly. Slowly, hesitantly, I followed the arm up to find Luke, his dark eyes meeting mine.

"I’m not leaving you here alone, not again," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "How many times do I have to say it before you’ll believe me?"

Tears welled up in my eyes, trickling down my cheeks before I could stop them. "Why?" I cried, my voice thick with emotion. "Why won’t you just abandon me like you’re supposed to? Like he did?"

His grip on my hand tightened, his eyes filled with a resolve that mirrored my own. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe because you remind me of her, or maybe..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Just tell me what we’re doing here, and I’ll help. At the very least, I can protect you from those creatures."

He nodded toward the next island, where a few remnants had gathered together, waiting for us.

"I have nothing else to give you," I said, my voice small and defeated. "Even if we survive this, my visions are already promised in exchange for R’lissea’s life."

I lowered my head, certain that now that, despite his words, he’d be unable to help. If it wasn’t tangentially related to his goal and with nothing to gain, Luke had never once offered to–

I flinched as he touched my cheek, gentle and warm, and his finger curled under my chin, drawing my eyes to meet his again. Our faces were close, just inches apart. His eyes were warm and sincere, and for a moment I was lost in their dark depths, the weight of Haven forgotten. Had he always looked at me like this, and I simply hadn’t allowed myself to notice?

"Consider this an apology," he murmured, "I’m sorry for making you cry."

I stared at him, wordless, as he stroked my cheek one last time. He smiled faintly and squeezed my hand, startling me from my stupor. I flinched back immediately, my cheeks warming, but it was more a response to the sudden flutter in my heart, an unfamiliar itch that urged me to believe in him. The last time I’d felt something like that before was when Soltair extended his hand toward me in the Slave Warehouse, bringing a light to my darkness. Why was I feeling that now?

"Shall we go, then? I don’t imagine we have much time," he said, regaining his usual firmness.

I nodded dumbly, still struggling to process what I was feeling, what the touch lingering on my cheek meant, or the fact that he hadn’t released my hand. It was all I could do to follow as he started off in the direction I’d been heading, pulling me gently along behind him. I didn’t know if I believed him, but...Korra had needed a second chance. Maybe Luke did too. A chance without me assuming everything was a lie.

"Thank you," I whispered when I’d finally regained my bearings. "I...I’m sorry."

I’d only found my voice when we reached the edge of the island, and Luke glanced down at me, confused.

"What? Why? Xiviyah, you did nothing wrong." There was startling firmness in his voice, causing me to look up at him. "It was my plan that forced you into this city and unleashed the remnants. You shouldn’t take responsibility for it."

"But I...I..."

He absently brushed a tear from my cheek. His hand jerked as he realized what he’d done, and a slight tinge of red came across his face.

"Xiviyah...I do not regret what I’ve done, but...I am sorry you got hurt. If it means anything, I really didn’t understand just how dangerous it was for you. We thought there might be a couple remnants that slipped out, and that was it. I never would have allowed Jessia to push you like that otherwise."

I didn’t respond, not because I had anything to say, but because his words caused me to tear up again. I couldn’t forgive him so easily for what he put me through, and all the blood on my hands, but I could feel the sincerity in his words. He wasn’t asking for my forgiveness, just that I understood. It wasn’t personal in the slightest.

The bridge formed, and a few remnants darted toward us, weapons in hand. Luke’s eyes shifted away from me, alight with a touch of annoyance, settling on the approaching shadows. Without bothering to chant, he raised his hand and unleashed a sixth-circle curse spell. I shrank back instinctively as the dark magic released waves of oily mana, but it did not affect me or the Remnants.

"Damn, just how resilient are these things?" he complained, before reluctantly letting my hand go. I was surprised to find I missed his touch, closing my fingers into a fist to preserve his warmth as long as possible.

Luke stretched out his hand and grasped at empty air, much the same as I did when summoning my staff. Shadows collected in his grip, forming a nearly three-foot-long sword with a black metallic blade. My tail twitched in surprise as I found it radiating the aura of Divine Artifact.

"Die already!" he said, lunging forward.

His leap covered the thirty feet between him and the remnants, sword flashing in a dark ark before him. The blade seemed to suck in what little light emanated from the sky above, leaving a black trail of shadows in its wake.

Unlike his spell, the blade overwhelmed the resistance of the Remnants, slicing through them like regular monsters. Luke moved quickly, and though he wasn’t as skilled as Korra or Gayron in physical combat, the sheer physical strength of an eighth-level body allowed him to carve through the remnants with ease.

By the time I managed to calm my heart, they disappeared back into the shadows. I quickly caught up to him and, as he held out his hand, hesitantly took it. He relaxed slightly at that, and I blushed, unable to meet his gaze.

"I trust we’re headed for that over there?" he asked, gesturing with his sword to the horizon, where a gold light glimmered. Looking at it sent a chill down my spine. What had been a faint light before now resembled the rising sun, coloring the entire horizon with the rift’s glow.

"Yeah," I answered in a whisper.

"Good," he said with a short nod. "Now that we’ve figured out my sword works, stay behind me whenever a remnant appears."

I nodded, still avoiding looking at him, or his hand that clutched mine tightly. I knew it was necessary, as I was still too weak to trust myself unsupported, but that didn’t stop me from feeling a little helpless and embarrassed. Especially because I found that the longer he held me, the less I wanted him to let go.