The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 79: Whiteriver Village

Chapter 79: Whiteriver Village

Whiteriver Village was a small mining community nestled in the roots of the Solori Peaks, the range that wrapped around the eastern border of the Kingdom of Radia. We traveled along its namesake, the White River, winding along beaten paths just large enough for a wagon and passing through farms carved from the heavy pine foresting the region. As the sun began to drop beneath the towering peaks, several narrow plumes of smoke dwindled into the air, clustered together just a few miles away.

"Finally!" Trithe complained, "When he said ’just over the hill,’ I thought he meant it."

Soltair nodded, squinting his eyes at the pillars of smoke. "At least they’re alive still. A basilisk is no laughing matter and is more than capable of wiping the small towns here off the map.

"Is it really that strong?" I asked in between heavy breaths. Due to Sun’s curse, my body fell far behind my soul, making the brisk hike through the forests extremely taxing. I didn’t dare ask for rest, for fear of inconveniencing the other two, but I caught them sneaking irritated gazes back every once in a while.

Soltair slowed, allowing me to catch up, and began a quick explanation. "Basilisks are one of the stronger monsters native to the region, who normally keep high up in the mountains. I haven’t seen one myself, but one of the tutors mentioned that they could get as large as a house and are masters of poison and curses. While not exactly intelligent, they are cunning, and use traps to wear down stronger foes."

I shivered at the mention of ’curse magic,’ feeling a slight pang in the scarlet lines on my chest. My adaptive resistance was growing steadily, but I didn’t trust myself to the untried ability. There were too many unknowns to make it reliable.

"Anyway, can you hurry up?" Trithe asked, shooting us a sharp look back, "I’m looking forward to a soft bed tonight. Maybe they’ll have enough rooms for us to sleep separately. I could do without being awoken by bad dreams, especially if they’re not my own."

I dipped my head, marshaling what remained of my strength and chasing after them. Soltair remained beside me, but I found his easy step and light breathing more irritating than comforting, a constant reminder of what the curse took from me.

As we progressed closer to the village, the farms and houses appeared with greater frequency. Occasionally, we’d look up to find someone staring at us curiously, whether just finished working in their fields or gathering firewood for the night. I doubted they knew who we were, but our weapons made our mission apparent, and we were greeted with friendly waves and hopeful smiles. I pulled the hood of my traveling cloak up, before we arrived in the village proper, with the hopes an introduction might soften their response.

The news of our arrival traveled ahead of us, and a sizable crowd of expectant faces gathered before the inn. Soltair strode forward, clasping the hand of the pot-bellied man in front of the crowd.

"We heard of your troubles and came as quickly as we could," he said, raising his voice just loud enough that everyone could hear.

Excited murmurs raced through the townsfolk, and the pot-bellied man smiled in relief. "Thank you for coming. I’m the mayor of our humble village, and the innkeeper as well. We’ve been petitioning Roann for some time, but never expected to receive one of the holy heroes. Are you truly the Sun Hero?"

"Of course," Soltair said confidently, raising his hand. My chest tightened as a Divine Star appeared above his head, filling the village with its radiance. I shifted uneasily, dipping being Trithe, but an unseen field materialized around me, staving off its holy light.

A few children pushed to the front, gazing at him with wide, shining eyes. He smiled and snapped his fingers, and the sun exploded, raining down a shower of harmless fireworks upon their upturned faces. Squeaks of surprise and delight escaped their lips as they danced in the shimmering sparkles, and they ran off talking and laughing to play elsewhere.

"Magnificent," the mayor said, clapping his hands merrily, "but there will be plenty of time for celebration later. I’m sure you’re fatigued after your long journey, so allow me to show you to your quarters. I saved a room for you, great hero, but I’m afraid your companions will have to share. I trust you can live with these accommodations?"

"We are grateful for anything you can spare," Soltair nodded gratefully, "At this point, we’d settle for a barn, as long as the hay was clean."

"Speak for yourself," Trithe muttered to herself, looking over the villagers with disdain. Her lip curled slightly, and she turned her head with a sniff.

The mayor’s sputtered, falling into a coughing fit. As he recovered, he looked up, laughing nervously. "Why would you bring that up? Surely we can offer more than that. I’ll throw in a meal or two as well, and another when you return from slaying the beast."

I looked out over the crowd, channeling mana into the Eyes of Fate. Most of the villages lacked any capacity for mana and no more than a handful had developed it to the point of casting first-circle spells. Although we were a week’s travel from the Divine Throne, the quality had sharply dropped. There, one in three were third-level, at the very least.

In the fading dusk, my eyes sharpened, flickering from face to face and finally resting on the mayor. Although he wore a wide smile, it failed to touch his eyes, and the deep wrinkles chiseled into his forehead felt out of place on a man with little gray in his hair. Many of the other villagers seemed similar, with stooped shoulders and dispirited voices. Many cast longing glances to a large barn on the far side of the village center, whose doors hung ajar, scarcely concealing a blackness even my eyes couldn’t penetrate.

I shivered, feeling a dark resonance with the place, expressed through a prickly tingle in my chest. I cast a look over my shoulder, vainly trying to see through shadows as the mayor led us into the inn, jumping slightly as the door closed with a slam, cutting off my vision.

"Um, sir?" I asked, half raising my hand to get the mayor’s attention.

He looked over in surprise, unconsciously lowering his head to try and get a glance under my hood. "Yes?"

His scrutiny was disconcerting, but I pressed on. "You said Roann had been ignoring your request for some time. How long, exactly?"

He froze, eyes widening slightly, and his voice rolled out quickly. "Oh, I never meant such a thing! I’m sure the kingdom has been quite busy with the upsurge of monsters, and the festival, and..., uh, things. If I came across as disrespectful, I meant no such thing."

"How long?" I asked, unsure what else to say.

"A month?" he said tentatively. His face quickly returned to its joviality a second later, "Which is why we’re so grateful you’ve arrived now. This monster will surely be put down now, and no one else will have to suffer."

"I swear it," Soltair said, stealing back the conversation. He raised an eyebrow in my direction, but I was already gone.

After slipping out of the inn, I quickly made my way across town, which now felt abandoned. There were forty or so homes within the actual village and another hundred we passed in the last twenty or so miles. Too many for how small the crowd was, if the arrival of a hero was truly something worth gathering for. For such a small place in the wilderness, such an event should have been heralded by a feast, at the very least, yet we got a meager group of survivors. With the sorrow haunting their eyes, I could call them nothing else.

The barn was much larger than I anticipated, stretching back into the forest almost a hundred feet. A solitary boy stood before the doors, holding a blazing torch and watching me curiously.

"You’re one of the hero’s companions, right?" he asked, his eyes reflecting moistly in the flickering firelight.

"Yeah."

"You’re too late!" he sobbed, scrubbing his dirty sleeve over his face to try and hide his tears, "They’re already dead!" I doubted he was older than fifteen, but the bitterness in his voice was steeped in harsh experience.

After a moment, his shoulders stopped shaking, and his arm fell limp to his side. "Sorry," he muttered, cheeks reddening slightly, "They told me not to say anything."

"We came as soon as we could," I said gently, feeling a surge of compassion in my chest."

"You’re really young, aren’t you," he said suddenly, peering beneath my hood. I flinched as his eyes widened, and he took several steps back, bumping into the barn wall.

The hollow thump resounded in my ears, and I turned away, mentally preparing myself for his shout.

"S-so pretty," he breathed, then immediately flushed red, clamping a hand over his mouth.

I stared at him, open-mouthed, stunned beyond words. I tentatively reached up and felt my horns, finding them entirely shrouded beneath my hood. Sighing in relief, I walked past the kid, who was now a stammering mess.

"H-hey! You’re not supposed to-" The kid cried, grabbing at my sleeve, but I shook him off and slipped into the barn.

I was greeted by the familiar smell of death, and I struggled to maintain my balance as a sudden wave of nausea overwhelmed me. The veil of darkness evaporated before my eyes, and my eyes widened in horror. Heaps of cold, stone statues littered the floor of the barn, stuffed between piles of grain and straw. Each of them depicted humans amid suffering, with bulging eyes and twisted limbs. Many were fractured or entirely broken, revealing a stale white inner core beneath the rough gray exterior. The detail of the statues was incredible, making even the fine works of art at the Divine Throne seem like a child’s art project.

"What are they?" I whispered, finally finding my voice.

"This used to be our village’s granary, but now... it’s as you see."

I wandered forward, laying a hand on an elderly woman’s stone head. Each lock of thin, ragged hair pressed into my soft skin, and I drew back, feeling a cold jolt. I knew that feeling. It was sticky, and oily, making my stomach crawl. A curse.