The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 550: Water Dragon

Chapter 550: Water Dragon

I was awakened the following day by a gentle shake on my shoulder. A flicker of irritation sparked within me at being disturbed, and I snuggled deeper into Fable’s fur, mumbling a few incoherent protests in the hopes of stealing a few more moments of sleep. The shaking grew more insistent, however, and I reluctantly dragged myself awake.

"Finally, I thought you’d never wake up!" R’lissea exclaimed, grinning as she gave me one last shake for good measure.

"Is it already morning?" I yawned, blinking blearily in the harsh sunlight. We had talked late into the night, and as I struggled to gather my senses, I realized I didn’t even remember falling asleep. It must have been late, as I felt like I’d hardly gotten a wink.

"You could say that," R’lissea said, straightening up from my side. "But it’s probably closer to noon. The demons are nearly ready to march, but Fable wouldn’t let me wake you up until now."

I sat up and yawned again, stretching my arms overhead. "Good job, Fable," I mumbled, giving him a grateful scratch behind the ears.

"Good morning, Xiviyah," Elise greeted me, far too cheerful for the hour.

She sat with her legs tucked to the side beside the fire, her hair draped over one shoulder, brushing it deftly with a practiced hand. The cheery flames from the night before had died down to smoldering embers, mirroring exactly how I felt at that moment.

I rubbed my horn and, with some reluctance, peeled myself away from Fable. He rose immediately after me, giving his silver coat a shake before padding away. My hair clung to his fur, drawing out in matted crimson ribbons as he moved away, finally tugging free and falling back around me. I winced, running a hand through the tangles. Sleeping with Fable always had its drawbacks.

R’lissea giggled, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear with a gentle touch. "I can help you with that if you want. It’s the least I can do for letting me sleep with Fable."

Elise rolled her eyes, grumbling something under her breath.

"Thanks," I said, smiling faintly. Even after traveling with them for a few weeks, it was still strange to wake up to so much enthusiasm and warmth. The Last Light Company had always kept a respectful distance, and Korra had drifted further away as she grew closer to Gayron, so I had often spent my mornings alone with Fable. This was a nice change, even if it meant enduring their playful teasing on occasion.

As R’lissea had mentioned, the sun was already high in the sky, beaming down on the white, frost-kissed hills of the Ingrid Alliance. According to Elise, Luke and Fyren had left some time ago, and the infernal horde was preparing to march again.

I groaned at the thought, rubbing my horn tiredly. "Why can’t we just find a nice inn to stay at for a bit?" I complained.

"Maybe one day," R’lissea said, sitting me down and pulling out her comb. "But that’s a long way off. We should just be grateful we’re alive to march at all. Before now, that was never a guarantee."

"True," Elise agreed with a nod. "When Luke showed up last night, I half thought he was going to kick us out or something. I still can’t believe he chose us over one of his commanders."

R’lissea smiled, her touch gentle as she worked through the tangles in my hair. "I wouldn’t say he chose us, per se."

"He didn’t?" I asked, looking up in surprise.

"Hey, stay still," she said with a laugh, guiding my head back into place.

Elise giggled along with her. "Yeah, I guess that’s true."

"What is?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

"Do you think we should tell her?" R’lissea asked, and though I could no longer see her face, I could hear the amusement in her voice.

"No, let’s let her figure it out," Elise replied. "Much more exciting that way."

They shared another laugh, and I sighed, my tail twitching in irritation. "Just hurry up, alright?" I urged. "I’d like to eat something before we start moving."

Unfortunately, that wish was in vain. The scions started streaming past us only a few minutes later, before R’lissea had a chance to finish brushing out the last of the snarls. Fable arrived soon after, and R’lissea stowed her comb with an apologetic shrug.

"Don’t worry, I can finish in a few hours," Elise offered, patting my shoulder reassuringly. "I think I’ll ride with you a bit more from here on out, so having something other than reading your spell books will be nice."

Sooner than I liked, we were again moving with the column, heading deeper into the Ingrid Alliance. It was dull and boring, but staying with Luke’s army was far better than the other options. From the strategy meeting, I’d learned each of them was to carve a path of destruction across the kingdom, destroying any remnants of their military and guardian Demon Gates to receive reinforcements when they broke. I hadn’t yet decided how to feel about traveling with an army intent on destroying the world or how much guilt I could shoulder for the deaths of the innocent that would surely follow.

A few hours later, I looked up from the seventh-circle tome I was studying, blinking at the sky. A white veil had covered the sun, and tiny snowflakes danced on the breeze. The spell book was one of the few Thron left me I hadn’t yet mastered, and the first seventh-circle spell wasn’t a fate spell. I’d been learning it since we left Whitecliff City and was finally ready to try it.

After a deep breath, I opened my soul and began gathering mana. The nearby demons perked up, their beady eyes filled with lust and hunger as they locked onto me. Fable turned to glare at the nearest group, releasing a bit of his aura to counterbalance the allure my soul provided.

"Xiviyah?" Elise asked, glancing up from where she walked beside me, concern etched on her face.

"It’s all right. I’m just going to try casting a spell," I reassured her, though my voice trembled uncertainly.

After gathering as much mana as I could safely manage, I began the chant. Unfortunately, I had no idea what this spell was supposed to look like, nor had I seen most of the runes before so I couldn’t cast it chantless. It felt strange to use words again, but it was the process I underwent every time I learned a new spell, especially for powerful magic outside of Fate magic.

"Seventh?" R’lissea gasped as seven magic circles materialized in the air above us. She stared at me with wide eyes, summoning her staff. "Are you crazy? What are you thinking?"

I barely heard her, my focus entirely consumed by the complex spell. I couldn’t spare the concentration to respond, so I simply hurried through the chant, hoping to finish before one of the demons or Apostles noticed the powerful magic and came to investigate. It was a risky move; there was no way an unfamiliar seventh-circle spell could be cast above their army without attracting serious attention.

The minutes dragged by one after the other, and the magic circles began to orbit a point some hundred feet over my head. R’lissea and Elise shifted nervously as the demons grew increasingly agitated. My heart fluttered as a powerful aura exploded on the other side of the camp, rapidly approaching us. The fact that it was Fyren only made it worse, as any scolding I got from him would surely be worse than Luke or Jessia.

He neared quickly, and soon, his voice rose over the hum of the magic. "Xiviyah, what the hell are you–"

I flashed him a triumphant smile as I clapped my hands, resolving the spell. The magic circles collapsed on the focal point, condensing into a single blue point of light. The air around it shuddered at the pressure released by the concentrated mana, and the entire world went silent, subdued in the calm before the storm.

"...are you doing?" Fyren finished, his eyes staring up at the spell in shock.

The point of light shook, and a small shockwave pulsed outwards, breaking harmlessly against my wards. Seeing the scions tremble, suppressed to the point of fainting, I waved my hand and soulcast a magical wall, shielding them from the ambient effects of the spell. "What’s happening? Are we under attack?" I jumped as Jessia materialized out of Fyren’s shadow, knife in hand. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, but I was too busy admiring my handiwork in the sky. "Water Dragon," I murmured, sagging in exhaustion as I released the spell. R’lissea gasped. "Wait, Xiviyah, you can’t be serious. Casting that here...?" "It’s fine; I can control it. Probably," I mumbled. The dot exploded outward, swelling in size until it dominated the sky. I’d cast it a hundred feet above, giving it plenty of room to expand, but I still flinched as the edge of the sphere stopped just inches from the barrier I’d erected. As quickly as it expanded, the sphere collapsed in on itself, condensing into the shape of a dragon. It was massive, easily two hundred feet from snout to tail, hovering on wings that spanned at least that. Its four clawed limbs were thick and powerful, its sinewy neck holding a head sporting horns, with a long snout and jagged teeth. The replication was perfect, each scale sparkling with the sun’s refracted light, appearing just as fearsome as the infernal dragon that had attacked Western University. "There," I said, giving a satisfied nod. "Take that, Korra. I did it."