The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 62: Exposed

Chapter 62: Exposed

As we moved back into the banquet hall, I fell back behind Korra hoping to ride her fame again. But, when we passed through the doors, she turned and grasped my hand, pulling me beside her.

"Korra, I-"

"I don’t care if you’re a slave. Please, walk with me," she said gently.

I reluctantly followed her command, as much because of the slave crest as anything. Even so, a warm feeling filled my heart, strengthening me as we navigated the crowded hall amid staring gazes. As we approached the platform, an important-looking priest stepped in our way. Unlike the traditional robes of the Divine Throne, he wore deep blue silks trimmed with lace reminiscent of sea foam.

"Korra, if I may have a moment of your time? Some of the dignitaries from Ornth would like an introduction," he said, bowing respectfully.

"Go on without me," she murmured, giving my hand a final squeeze before pulling away.

Nodding, I returned to our table with my eyes on the ground. Several of the other heroes wandered the hall, including Soltair, who was hurriedly rotated from group to group. The Sun Hero’s responsibilities were a step more than any of the rest, his stress showing through a slight crease in his brow and stiff pose. I knew it wore on him, and was willing to accept that as an excuse for his behavior, should he present it. Even something like that was better than the alternative.

"Ah, Slave Hero. Welcome back."

I flinched as Ronin’s sarcastic voice cut through my thoughts and tentatively took a seat. He and R’lissea sat across from me, close enough their shoulders were nearly touching.

"Um, Ronin? Would you please not call her that?" the elf girl asked, looking up at him with her large, slanted eyes. "Her name is Xiviyah."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, his response startling me. "Fine. But nothing else besides Xiviyah. I suppose that’s a more suitable name anyways."

"Thank you," she said, flashing me a small smile. I blinked in return, utterly speechless at the exchange. How had they gotten so close? His arrogance directly clashed against her shy temperament, yet their intimacy was clearer than day.

I hesitated before returning a nod. My eyes roamed the hall until they settled on Korra, deep in animated conversation with a noble, and I made a decision. After a second to gather my courage, I cleared my throat. Despite my best efforts, my voice trembled slightly, but it was enough. "Ronin, I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

He froze, a wine glass half raised to his lips. His hands twitched, whitening around the knuckles, and he gingerly set it back down. "Is that so?" he asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Y-you see, we had to win, no matter what. Otherwise, they would’ve used it as proof and separated Soltair and I."

Ronin snorted, looking at me with contempt. "You concerned about that idiot? Believe it or not, he’s more than capable of surviving without you."

"Ronin..." R’lissea said, tugging at his sleeve. "You promised."

I tilted my head, looking between them, my confusion increasing as the War Hero let out a long sigh and picked up his glass once more.

"Fine," he said reluctantly, "Continue."

Although I still felt uncertain, I pressed on, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "It’s not about him. When they first found me, the Pope sent an Inquisitor after me before I could get identified and prove myself a hero. I just know he’s been behind several other plots that have threatened my life, also. They said that if we lost the duel, they’d force Soltair to hand over the Slave Crest to someone else so that I might be taken far enough away to-" I gulped, forcing the words through- "avoid corrupting him further."

"A valid point, if I say so myself." He mused, looking at me skeptically. "But I suppose that explains a lot."

"That’s why they gave you that spell-" I started, but he slapped the table, drawing the attention of the surrounding area. I flinched as he surged to his feet, clasping my hands in my lap.

"Keep that vile tongue inside your mouth," he hissed, hands clenching the tablecloth. "Nothing of the sort ever happened. You understand?"

His aura rolled across the table, forcing me back against my chair. I struggled to speak but found it impossible to do more than dip my head. Black spots started to cross my vision, and I began feeling faint when he gave himself a shake and sat down, restraining his aura.

I collapsed, gasping for air. "I-I under-agghhh!"

I groaned as the slave crest sent a spasm of pain through my system. It shone with an eerie red light, standing out against the pale skin of my exposed chest. As the pulse faded and I recovered my thoughts, I looked around, finding many pairs of eyes on me. Frantically, I looked around for relief, but there was nowhere to hide. Both Ronin and R’lissea stared at me, surprise coloring their expressions.

"What happened?" the Life Hero asked, peering about nervously. "Are we under attack?"

Ronin relaxed, laying his hand atop hers. "Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a Slave Crest trigger before. And all it took was a few words. It seems the Pope’s word is to be believed, after all."

Terror flushed through my system as he sized me up, and I held my hands tight in my lap to keep them from trembling. I knew it was unavoidable, but he was the last one I wished to learn of the extent of the Slave Crest.

A shadow fell over me, and I made out an armored boot on the ground. "Xiviyah! What’s happening? You look pale as a ghost!" Soltair cried, eyes locked on my face.

"Soltair?" I looked up, shivering with relief. "I-It’s nothing. Just-"

"We were simply talking about our last duel," Ronin interrupted, grinning. "And how soundly I’ll beat you next time."

"Well, keep Xiviyah out of it," he said, resting a hand on my shoulder. He frowned, leaning over to peer into my eyes. "You’re shaking too. Are you feeling unwell?"

I nodded, unable to meet his eyes. The fear and anxiety were nearly overpowering, and a nauseous bile rose in my throat.

"Um, maybe I can help," I looked up as R’lissea’s soft voice floated over, accompanied by the gently glowing light of a first-circle Life spell. I tried to activate the Eyes of Fate, but my mana kept slipping away, and I had no choice but to allow the magic to settle over me.

Immediately, my breathing slowed, and a soothing warmth flowed into my mind. "It’s called Gentle Song," the elf explained, lowering her hand. "It just helps you relax."

Indeed, my mind felt clear, and I could speak properly again. "Thank you. I’m sorry for worrying you."

"Are you certain you’re alright?" Soltair asked, taking a seat beside me. I finally met his gaze, which swirled with genuine concern. "I can take you back to your room, if you want."

"Not yet. The banquet’s not over, and I don’t want to take you away from everyone."

He nodded slowly. "Okay. But promise we can talk later? I need to tell you something."