The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 562: Torn

Chapter 562: Torn

Luke and R’lissea fell silent, and I was grateful for their ignorance of the full extent of my past. Reliving the betrayals and darkness of my final days at the Divine Throne was agonizing enough, let alone the horrors of High Valley. They couldn’t know that, right?

But I had forgotten just how intimately Luke knew me. My heart lurched as he spoke, delving deep and exposing the last shadows in my heart.

"After she was sold, Aurle got close to her."

"Aurle?" R’lissea’s head tilted, her brow furrowed. "She’s called that name in her sleep a lot, usually right before she wakes up crying from nightmares."

"Does that happen often?" Luke asked, his voice laced with concern.

R’lissea shrugged, her response catching me off guard. "Almost every night," she admitted, "but we’ve all gotten used to it. I don’t even think Xiviyah remembers it most of the time, as she’s never mentioned it before. Elise or I usually sit with her and hold her hand until she falls back asleep. But tell me, who is Aurle?"

I did? I remembered having nightmares a few times a week, but every night? Most were so vivid and real that I couldn’t imagine forgetting them. They seemed like penance for the many times I’d been too weak or fallen short, constantly tormenting me with my failures over and over again. Sometimes, they were mixed with visions, giving me a glimpse of a future that might have happened, like if I hadn’t managed to save Elise or if Korra hadn’t stopped Alex in time.

The anger that had hardened Luke’s features melted away, replaced by a deep sadness. "Aurle is the name of a slave," he said, his voice heavy with grief. "Probably the only reason Xiviyah is here at all. Aurle loved and cared for her, and in the end, allowed herself to be tortured and raped so that Xiviyah could live a little longer. I don’t know how many times, or how long it went on, but she... she gave the only thing a slave can give."

"She died?" R’lissea’s hand flew to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

"She died so that Xiviyah might live."

Tears streamed down my face as I curled into a ball, sobs wracking my body. Each agonizing memory was dragged to the surface, exposed and raw, leaving me no escape, no refuge.

"I’m sorry," I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut, desperately trying to banish the memory of Aurle’s smiling face. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry."

Oblivious to my anguish, Luke sighed and rubbed his horn. "Thank you, R’lissea," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"For what?" she asked, her ears twitching nervously.

"For telling me all that," he replied. "I know you don’t trust me much, but... agh," he groaned, "I finally understand what’s happening. How could I have been such an idiot? To ask her about Soltair right after exposing her abilities and learning all her vulnerabilities? I thought it would show her she could trust me, that her secrets were safe with me, but there’s no doubt she got the wrong idea. And then, to make things worse, I promised to protect her over and over, that it didn’t matter who she was, I would still be with her."

"Is that bad?" R’lissea asked hesitantly.

He shook his head, despair evident in his posture. "It couldn’t have been worse if I tried," he admitted. "Everyone who has ever promised to protect her has promptly abandoned her in one way or another. Especially someone like me, who’s already so similar to the Sun Hero in my status and objectives. And then, unknowingly, I asked her to pretend to be my slave."

R’lissea gasped. "You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t. That’s what Soltair—"

"Gods, I’ve been a fool," Luke muttered, his grip tightening on his horn. "Even killing Ixtra couldn’t begin to fix that. No wonder she hates me so much."

Hate? The word echoed in my mind, jarring against the complex emotions I was struggling with toward Luke. Fear, yes, was a constant companion, but hate? No, that wasn’t actually right, either.

I wasn’t afraid of Luke himself. Rather, I feared the mask I had placed upon him, the phantom of Soltair that haunted my every interaction. Every time I looked at him, I braced myself for the inevitable betrayal, convinced he was just another wolf in sheep’s clothing. Every doubt, every question, every fear I harbored was directed towards what he might do, not what he had already done.

Even through the distorted lens of my memories, I knew this wasn’t fair. But what could I do? I had tried to trust and offer him a second chance, yet the past clung to me with suffocating tenacity. He’d done nothing to lose that chance and yet, despite my every effort, I couldn’t change how I saw him.

"I don’t think it’s meant to happen," Luke’s voice was heavy with resignation as he rested his chin on his hand. His tail twitched feebly, mirroring his discouragement. "Perhaps I should just give up and let her be. Why should I keep trying to get close when it only hurts her?"

My heart ached at his words, a strange weight settling in my chest. Wasn’t this what I had wanted all along? To be free from the burden of his presence, to escape the constant reminder of my past? So why did my heart yearn for him to keep trying?

R’lissea’s voice was soft but resolute. "Don’t give up, Luke. You aren’t hurting her, only reminding her of the pain she already carries. But it’s because of that pain that she needs you, even if she doesn’t realize it."

Luke looked up, a spark of hope flickering amidst the doubt clouding his features. "You think so?"

She hesitated, her gaze falling to the dancing flames. "I... I hope so."

"That’s not very reassuring."

R’lissea shrugged, offering him a small, helpless smile. "I’m afraid there’s no way this could be easy. Just be grateful you even have the chance."

She yawned and stretched before standing, leaning over to pet Fable’s head. His eyes stared up at her, and she giggled.

"You could have added something too, you know. I bet you know more about Xiviyah than anyone."

Fable blinked and then looked at Luke. For the first time, I sensed no hostility in his gaze, only curiosity and... expectation? Was it because my emotions weren’t tainting his perspective right now?

"Whatever. I’m going to sleep," she said, sitting beside him. She tapped her ring and withdrew a blanket, snuggling against his flank.

Luke stood, his eyes lingering on her. "Thank you again, R’lissea. And don’t worry, I’ll find a few demons I trust to keep a watch over her. Even if she doesn’t believe me, I meant what I said. I’ll protect you three no matter what manages to slip by the Lord of Ash."

"Oh, wait," R’lissea said. "It hasn’t even occurred to me to ask yet, but I wondered why it matters to you?"

"Pardon?" Luke tilted his head.

She gazed at him intently, sleep temporarily forgotten. "Why is she so important to you? Why do you even want to get close to her at all?"

"Oh," he was quiet, then orbited his mouth, "I think... I think it’s because--"

The vision burst apart, dropping me back into the comforting starlight of my soul space. I sat there, stunned, for several minutes, until I finally collapsed onto my back, staring up at the stars. There were thousands, if not millions of them, each their own unique fate. To which one did my path lead? Or, better yet, which one did I want it to lead?

R’lissea’s final question burned itself in my mind. I cursed the vision for not lasting just a little longer, but at the same time, I’d avoided asking it myself. He said I reminded him of his little sister, but even I could tell there was more to it than that.

Everyone had a reason for doing the things that they did. Korra and I bonded over our past and became friends. She made a moral judgment that the church was wrong and abandoned her faith, forsaking her mana to find me. R’lissea made much the same choice, but if tonight were any indicator, her initial feelings were guilt and shame.

Fyren...? Fyren was just there. He thought I was interesting and, for some reason, declared his entire cult was now my followers. The Last Light Company wanted to defeat Alverin and the Circle of Chains, freeing their people. Even Gayron had his reasons for fighting beside me, even if that was simply because he liked Korra.

It was that simple for most of them, but not for Luke. He had been friendly to me since our first encounter in Brithlite all that time ago. It was a small, endearing memory, where he’d accidentally asked me out on a date. The Luke of today was different from that boy in many ways, being strong and confident, the leader of tens of thousands of demons. I couldn’t see his motives being as pure as noticing I was malnourished, or feeling empathy toward me because I was a slave.

Until tonight, I had been convinced that Luke, like Soltair, desired my powers for his own gain. He had played the role of a benevolent savior, whispering sweet words and weaving a tapestry of promises, only to use Haven to crush a city he couldn’t conquer through conventional means.But that... that was an anomaly, wasn’t it? He had never once forced me to use my abilities beyond that one instance, and even then, he had manipulated me into doing it of my own volition. And in the end, hadn’t it turned out for the best? He had volunteered to protect me while I healed Haven, shielding me from the consequences of my own actions. In a way, it was because of him that I had my realm and my goddess back.So what about the rest? He knew all my secrets and vulnerabilities. Soltair had exploited those weaknesses, twisting them into opportunities to elevate his heroic image. My weakness highlighted his strength, and my vulnerability highlighted his reliability. When I became too powerful, it became increasingly difficult for him to feel like a hero taking care of me. Add that to the constant pressure of the church and his shifting worldview, and I was discarded without a second thought.If Luke were truly the same, shouldn’t he have shown at least a hint of those tendencies? Instead, he had executed one of his commanders for disrespecting me, spared my friends despite the lack of any tangible benefit to himself, and offered me unwavering kindness no matter how many times I pushed him away. It was no wonder he was ready to give up.And then there was the one crucial element I hadn’t fully considered: Fate seemed to trust him. She had called him my friend, shared secrets with him that I myself was only just discovering and, through the shard, entrusted him with the knowledge of my abilities. Would she have done that with someone like Soltair? No. I refused to believe she would do something like that to me.The thought took a few moments to settle into my heart, a few final tears streaking my cheeks.

The thought took a few moments to settle into my heart, a few final tears streaking my cheeks. There were too many stars shining the same direction, too many threads weaving the same pattern.

In my heart, I finally knew the truth. Luke was not who I was afraid he was.

Luke was not Soltair.