The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 57: The Heroes of Enusia

Chapter 57: The Heroes of Enusia

The banquet hall unfolded before us, an architectural marvel only possible through the unique magical construction techniques of this world. Stained glass skylights adorned the vaulted ceiling, each pane a masterpiece of vibrant colors portraying some god or deity. Sunlight filtered through the glass, painting the floor in a mesmerizing dance of vibrant hues. Chandeliers provided a more stable light source, driving the shadows from the hall with the brilliant light of hundreds of light crystals.

More impressive than the banquet hall were the people. Hundreds of regally dressed nobles, clergy, and other influential figures were gathered about the long, ornately carved tables. Their gowns and robes shimmered with intricate embroidery, sparkling jewels, and delicate lace. The air hummed with the soft murmur of conversation, weaving together snippets of courtly gossip and weighty political discourse. Representatives from kingdoms and empires conversed amicably, their interactions revealing a delicate dance of power and diplomacy.

As I glanced around, my heart fluttered with both awe and trepidation. Before we’d made it two steps, I already felt like an interloper, intruding upon this world of opulence and power. My eyes met those of a queen adorned in resplendent regalia, and I quickly averted my gaze, scared to see her reaction.

We paused at the entrance as a steward announced our arrival. Whispers rippled through the crowd like gentle waves, interrupted only by the soft clinking of glasses and the rustling of elegant robes. Feeling the weight of countless eyes upon us, I tightened my grip on Soltair’s arm, seeking comfort and stability in his presence. He gave me a small smile and lead the way forward, waving his free hand politely. Soft murmurs and hushed whispers emerged, and my pointed ears reddened. Many began to express admiration for Soltiar’s nobility and my beauty, but the conversation slowly took a familiar turn.

"So the rumors are true. The Sun Hero plays around with a demon."

"Is that filthblood supposed to be a hero?"

"How did that demonkin get so close to him? Do you think he’d take me? I’d be much better at warming the hero’s bed."

My ears turned red at the mockery and I struggled to maintain my composure, wishing nothing more than to hide behind Soltair. Although I was used to such degradation, knowing these people represented the world’s entire power gave their thoughts an entirely different weight.

Soltair, glowing with his usual charisma, remained confident and cheerful, pulling me swiftly to the front of the room, where a raised platform set apart the guests of notable renown. The main table in the center was reserved for the Pope and royalty in attendance. Many turned to watch us as we ascended the stairs to the platform, and I looked down, unable to meet their gaze. My heart beat rapidly as they scrutinized us, but none of the various rulers and kings seemed surprised by my presence. Naturally, they would have been informed when the final hero was found.

"This way," Soltair whispered, leading to a table on the side of the platform.

I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to be out of the limelight, but soon found myself filled with apprehension once more. Ten seats surrounded the table, eight of them full, their occupants staring at us with varying expressions. A sense of dread climbed into my chest as it became apparent this was the table for heroes.

"Soltair! Take a seat!" a young man called, his expression brightening as he saw us.

Soltair’s smiled. "Alex, how has the Flame Kingdom been treating you?"

The hero, who had bright red hair and a spray of freckles across his face, laughed and scratched the back of his head. His exuberance seemed contagious, brightening the faces of the heroes closest to him. "What else can I say but hot? I never thought I’d miss this place, but the desert just isn’t for me. But who’s this beauty on your arm? I thought you said you weren’t getting a girlfriend until we saved the world?"

Their familiarity took me by surprise, but I quickly recalled the heroes had lived together for several months before they split up around the world. Naturally, they would have created friends. And enemies. I shot a glance at Ronin, who returned it with a glare.

Soltair cleared his throat, raising his voice so the entire table of heroes could hear. "This is Xiviyah, the tenth hero. She wasn’t found until several months ago, and has been here ever since."

"The Slave Hero," Ronin said, lips twisted into a frown.

A spike of unease surged through me and an instinctive urge for support propelled me to cling tightly to Soltair. Their eyes bore into my chest, tracing the lines of the slave crest branded upon my skin. My fingers itched with the urge to cover myself, or at least tug up the neckline of the dress, but I knew it would be futile.

Conflicting emotions swirled inside me, and I couldn’t decipher why their gazes affected me so deeply. I had accepted my role as a slave, with the shame and suffering associated with that. But now, in the presence of the other heroes, the weight of expectation and comparison pressed down on me, exaggerating my inadequacy and failings. I was expected to stand among them, yet my lingering doubts made me question whether I truly belonged in their company.

Ignorant of my feelings, Alex looked between Soltair and me, eyes slowly widening in shock. "I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing!" he exclaimed. "Although, I can’t say I wouldn’t mind finding a girl like her tied up in my bed..."

His eyes also lingered on my chest, but something told me he wasn’t looking at the slave crest. I looked down, avoiding his gaze, and pressed against Soltair, hoping my face didn’t look as hot as it felt.

Soltair’s calm mask cracked, a slight frown creasing his features. "It’s not like that. While Xiviyah remains a slave for certain reasons, she is as free and capable as any of us."

I blinked, resisting the urge to protest. I was just as free as the rest of them? Not to mention the heavy restrictions placed on me by the Pope, the Divine Curse of the Sun God lowered my heroic potential immeasurably. I knew he wasn’t trying to belittle the issues, and was likely aiming to reduce the degree of condescension.

"Wait, you’re a hero?" Victor’s shocked voice brought an entirely new type of embarrassment. I had been watching him from the corner of my eye ever since we walked up, and he had only now recovered. Perhaps this was a chance to distract the conversation away from me.

"Thank you for your efforts to protect the Divine Throne," I said, giving him a slight curtsy.

His face grew red, and he finally managed to close his jaw. "I-I see. You’re quite welcome.

"Have you two met?" Soltair asked, looking between us curiously.

Victor froze, looking at me helplessly. I pushed down my vindictive tendencies and shook my head. "I heard about his efforts to suppress a demonic incursion," I said, giving the Law Hero a slight nod. I needed all the help I could get amongst these heroes, and it wouldn’t do any good to burn bridges now.

"Hey, would you let them sit down already?" a girl asked, resting her chin on her hand. She had short brown hair and wore flowing robes emblazoned with the trappings of the Water Goddess. Her eyes were a startling green, but looked bored and indifferent.

I looked at her gratefully as we took our seats, but she turned away dismissively. There was no hint of goodwill nor friendliness in her demeanor, and it seemed as if we were simply bothering her with our presence. I briefly recalled Selena mentioning that a hero had forsaken the path of a mage to become a priest instead. Perhaps that had been the Water Hero, then.

Soltair coughed, raising his hand to draw the attention of the entire table. "It’s the first time we’ve gathered as heroes since we’ve split up. How about we go around and introduce ourselves and give a brief report of our training?"

"Look, just because you’re the Sun Hero doesn’t mean you’re the leader. That right belongs to the strongest," Ronin growled. "And I think our duel made that clear."

I gripped my knees under the table, not daring to meet the furious gaze directed at me for some reason. Soltair looked at him in amusement, hands lying relaxed on the table. "Funny. I seem to recall winning that particular duel."

Victor leaned forward, his voice filled with curiosity. "Wait, you two already dueled? I thought we were going to determine our ranks at the festival competition."

"Great point," Soltair said smugly. "What happened to that, Ronin?"

The War Hero lifted his chin, finally shifting his glare to rest on Soltair. "Fine. Let’s use that to settle this once and for all. At that time, you won’t be able to hide behind that slutty filthblood and will have to face me yourself."

A large hand crashed on the table, making everyone jump. The biggest hero, taller than anyone by nearly a foot, leaned forward, his voice stern. "I don’t know the nature of your disagreement, but remember, we’re all allies. Control your language."

Ronin’s eyes bulged, and I expected him to explode, but he held his clenched fist under the table and lowered his gaze. "Fine." His eyes flashed upward, locking onto me. "Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, either. I’ve done some studying, and am looking forward to a rematch."

His furious gaze penetrated me, sending a shudder down my back and tail. I averted my eyes, praying he hadn’t learned the vulnerabilities instilled in me by the slave crest.

"Um, I’ll go first?" The tension faded as a soft voice washed over the table. The speaker, a beautiful blonde girl, raised her hand, eyes darting about nervously. "My name’s R’lissea. I’m the Life Hero."

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