The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 548: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 548: Shadows of the Past

The night was young, the first stars just beginning to peek through the twilight sky. The small fire burned bright and cozy, casting flickering shadows over Fyren’s approaching figure. A small smile graced his features, but I was drawn to the man beside him.

"L-Luke!" I sat bolt upright, my cheeks burning with a sudden blush. I quickly brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes, flustered by his unexpected appearance.

He smiled gently. "Please, there’s no need for alarm," he reassured me. "Do you mind if we join you?"

I nodded, my tail coiling anxiously in my lap. I had avoided the Apostle for the entire journey, not that we had many opportunities to cross paths, but seeing him now sent my heart racing.

Fyren, in his human form, settled across from us, leaning back to rest on his calloused hands. "To think there would be three young, beautiful girls napping so peacefully in the middle of a demon camp," he chuckled. "I’ve never seen anything like it, not in this or a thousand other worlds."

"You shouldn’t be so careless," Luke said, frowning as he sat beside Fyren. "Lowering your guard like that can be dangerous."

Though he addressed all three of us, his eyes lingered on me. The firelight danced in his dark eyes, and I was caught in their depths, unable to look away. He was dark yet striking, and I felt helpless whenever he was around, unable to think clearly. It was probably the lingering remnants of our entangled souls.

"S-sorry," I stammered, "I didn’t mean to be so... it’s just..."

I trailed off, staring down at my nervously twitching tail. His gaze remained fixed on me, and my blush deepened.

"It’s fine," he chuckled, finally looking away and glancing at my friends. "Even I’d be tempted to cuddle with that beast if it were mine. I’m just surprised you got the Life Hero to join you. She’s normally so reserved, and seeing her like this..."

I followed his gaze to find R’lissea sleeping peacefully despite their intrusion, her face relaxed and childlike. She was usually on edge around strangers, especially Luke, whom she viewed as our captor. I wasn’t entirely sure I disagreed with her assessment, but I still didn’t understand our place in this camp, or my connection with Luke.

"It’s not polite to stare at a sleeping girl," Elise mumbled, finally gathering the courage to glare at the apostle. She didn’t trust him any more than R’lissea did, seeing his presence as a reminder of the curses wielded by the Church.

"Can’t blame a man for appreciating beauty," Luke said with a shrug, his eyes flicking back to me.

"Too bad the one you really wanted to see is wide awake, eh?" Fyren teased, nudging Luke with his elbow.

"That’s not—ah, whatever," Luke retorted, scowling at him. It might have been the dim lighting or the firelight, but his face seemed flushed, and his tail rustled restlessly. It was either another joke, or simply my imagination. After all, I was the only one fully awake.

"Anyway," Luke said quickly, his eyes darting to me. "I hope you don’t mind if I intrude tonight. Jessia’s scouting the horizon, and I don’t feel like hanging out with any of the demons or beastkin. They’ve grown rather prickly after traveling for so long."

"I don’t mind," I said, and tried to meet his eyes again, only to blush and quickly look away. "I-is there something you need? You’ve avoided us ever since...um, what did you want from me?"

My words came out in a tumbled rush, and as they faded away, the only sound to replace them was the crackle and pop of the fire. Chunks of ash and glowing embers danced to join the stars as twinkling bits of light in the twilight sky. Anxiety crept in as the silence stretched on, and I watched Luke nervously, waiting for a response.

The demonkin stared into the glowing embers, his thoughtful frown the only sign he’d heard my question. After what felt like an eternity, he sighed and leaned back, resting on the palms of his hands.

"I guess you were right," he said, tilting his head to look at Fyren.

"Naturally," Fyren responded with a smirk. "Few know her better than I do."

"Right about what?" I asked, sitting up and gripping my tail tighter. "Did something happen? I’m sorry if it was me, and—"

"No, no, nothing like that," Luke reassured me, smiling softly. "It’s just... I didn’t actually come with an agenda today."

My eyes narrowed, and Fyren’s smirk widened into a grin.

"See?" he chuckled. "She still doesn’t believe you."

"Gods," Luke muttered, rubbing his horn in mock frustration. "Right again."

"Hey, I’m right here!" I protested, pouting slightly. "You don’t have to treat me like a child."

"Of course not, my Lady," Fyren said, his face a mask of dignified composure, his grin vanishing so quickly I might have imagined it.

"We would never treat the Oracle so trivially," Luke agreed instantly.

I groaned, letting my head fall against Fable’s side, my tail twitching with agitation. They were teasing me; I was sure of it. At least it dispelled the strange nervousness that had left me so flustered earlier.

"You really don’t need anything?" I asked again, needing reassurance. When he shook his head, I bit my lip and idly twisted a strand of crimson hair around my fingers. "Then, um... do you mind if I ask a question?"

"Really?" he asked, giving me a wry smile. "To be honest, I was starting to get worried. I can’t remember the last time you proactively asked me anything, and I started to think you weren’t interested."

"That’s... not it," I mumbled, my cheeks flushing. "Just..."

I trailed off, letting go of my hair to grip my skirt nervously. Why did I have such a hard time speaking to him? I was shy and timid, I knew that, but everything felt different when he was around.

The silence stretched as both Luke and Fyren watched me patiently, waiting for me to gather my thoughts. My grip on my skirt tightened as I took a breath, summoning my courage.

"What was she like?" I finally asked.

"She?" Luke looked at me quizzically, but his gaze felt heavy, almost daring me to elaborate.

I shrank back under the weight of his stare. "Your sister," I mumbled in an even smaller voice than before. "You said I reminded you of her."

Luke’s expression darkened, and I bit my lip, bracing myself. From the fragmented memories I’d seen, the moment his sister had died formed the crux of his entire life, the birthplace of the darkness and vengeance that had consumed his every waking moment.

As I risked looking up at him, Luke’s face was shrouded in shadow, but his expression was one of sorrow, not anger. He let out a long sigh and picked up a stick, poking at the fire. As a fresh wave of sparks ascended, he sighed again and tossed the stick back into the flames.

"You do," he whispered, seemingly lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "She was kind and sweet, perhaps a little mature for her age. Timid, too," he added, glancing at me, "which might be the biggest thing you have in common."

"Where is she now?" Elise asked. The golden-haired girl was still snuggled up against Fable’s flank but had since retrieved a blanket from her spatial ring. Her eyes reflected a hint of wonder, if some trepidation, at hearing the demonkin’s story.

I cringed, expecting his eyes to narrow or tail to lash, but Luke shook his head. I knew he wasn’t calm, the storm raging in his eyes made it clear, but his voice was measured.

"We were born to a young demonkin girl barely twenty years old," Luke began, his voice heavy with sorrow. "A year apart, but both times a result of her master’s whims. He was a cruel man, much like Alveron, a high-ranking member of the Circle of Chains, who took pleasure in fathering slaves and selling them off for profit."

"That’s terrible!" Elise gasped, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I... I’m sorry."

She shivered, pulling her blanket tighter, her eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip and looked away, and I knew she was fighting back the darkness of her own experiences. Had those who abused her not been focused solely on their pleasure and used magical precautions, she might have shared a similar fate to Luke’s mother.

"We had no way of tracking time," Luke continued, his voice low and steady, "but I was five or six when he sold us to a man in the Esther Kingdom. Our new master was a high-ranking noble close to the king, and though abusing slaves was forbidden there, he used his connections to avoid any consequences. After a few years, my sister fell ill, and she..."

He trailed off, brushing away a tear. I had never seen him cry before, but I couldn’t blame him. Tears trickled down my own face, soaking into Fable’s fur. It was a story I could all too easily imagine, one that had almost happened to me.

He cleared his throat, his tail limp and still. "I begged him to save her, to find medicine, but in her condition, she wasn’t worth the cost of even mundane herbs. As punishment for bothering him, he... he forced himself upon her in front of me, hurting her over and over until her eyes went dull. She had been so bright, cheerful, and sweet, yet...she was only ten when he..." His hands clenched into fists, his aura crackling like black lightning. "That was when I heard his voice. The first time the Emperor of Curses spoke to me."

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