The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 80: Statues

Chapter 80: Statues

As I stumbled back from the cursed statue, something hard connected with my ankle, dropping me to one knee. The kid caught my shoulder, saving me a fall, and I looked down to see what had tripped me. A hammer. And chisel.

"What are these?" I asked, running a finger over the crude tools. Only silence met my question, and I looked up to see tears streaming down his face.

"W-we tried everything," he whispered, voice breaking. I followed his gaze to a nearby statue, one of the cracked ones. As unfamiliar as I was with stonework, the broken arm bore the unmistakable mark of a chisel.

After a moment, realization dawned on me and my throat tightened in horror. I stepped back, turning to hide my lashing tail, and swept my gaze over the entire barn. Surely they couldn’t have...not ALL of the broken ones... For once, I cursed my eyes and their unerring perception.

"Turns out they were turned to stone, through and through."

His cold, empty voice shook me to the core. No one his age should have to experience that sort of thing. No one. After another shudder, I moved forward and knelt beside the statue of the elderly woman once more.

"Stand back," I whispered, my voice barely masking my determination. A storm of stars materialized about me, condensing together in a dizzying display of light. The kid stumbled back amid the flurries, mouth dropping in shock as my staff fell into my waiting grasp.

Channeling mana through the staff, I opened the Eyes of Fate. A swirling tapestry of magic ropes coiled around the statue, binding it with enough magic to power several high-circle spells. Each strand was made of hundreds of elongated runes, a pattern I was intimately familiar with. I touched my chest, absently tracing a scarlet rune.

Even without trying, I knew Dispel Magic would have no effect. Monsters worked entirely differently than mages, and their abilities functioned internally, rather than requiring a magic circle. As such, there was nothing to target or disrupt.

However, I wasn’t without options. I mentally recited the chant of a third-circle spell, Link Ability, but soon ran into a problem. The spell allowed one to share their abilities, which could potentially shift my curse immunity onto the statues, but it only worked between souls. I could sense her soul, faintly pulsing, but buried beneath layers of the thick, oily curse.

If I couldn’t penetrate that layer, then I’d have to find some other way to reach it. I knelt and closed my eyes, barely conscious of my tail swishing beneath my cloak. If the youth noticed it, he gave no indication and continued to watch silently.

At last, I raised my hand and summoned my mana, crafting the circles of the Link Ability spell chantless. The spell settled on the statue, but lost its grip and dissipated. I expected a sudden loss of mana, but the glittering star atop my staff resonated with my soul, recycling much of the mana.

"Interesting," I murmured. Without further hesitation, I began crafting a modification to the spell. The first part of Link Ability targeted my soul, latching on to the ability in question. Next, it searched for the target, and connected a line between us, transferring the ability. If I could just change the target, then I should be able to...

"Got it," I smiled, pushing the magic into the statue. "Link Ability: Adaptive Resistance: Curse."

As a gentle glow rested upon the statue, the flickering torchlight retreated. Engrossed in my spell, I hardly heard the muttered voices, which quickly escalated to shouting. My breath held as I fixated on the trembling coils of the curse, their waning resistance akin to a fragile heartbeat. As the curse began dissolving, a faint pulse of mana emanated from the statue and the stone began to slough off, replaced by pale, wrinkled flesh. As the flush of life returned to the statue’s skin, the clothes of the statue cracked, softening and taking on the malleable form of faded cloth.

I held the hand of the elderly lady as the cures broke, squeezing tightly and feeling the life come back to her. Soon, her veins throbbed with the consistency of a beating heart, and warmth flooded her fingers. The fragments of cursed stone broke and began disintegrating into shadows.

Her eyelids fluttered and a gentle rasp touched my ears as her lungs shook. A faint burst of dust billowed from her throat, and her breathing became easier. I clasped her hand with both of mine, tail shivering in excited relief. The commotion outside intensified, and a harsh shout broke the reverent silence, forcing its way into the barn. Looks like the mayor had finally tracked me down.

"I told you, Collin! They weren’t allowed near the barn! We received clear instruction not to let them see anything too..." his fury trailed, and I looked up to see him staring, open-mouthed at the soft flesh in my hand.

"Wha...how...?" he gasped, staggering and leaning against the wall. Collin ran forward, indignation evaporating off his face, and dropped to his knees beside me.

"You did it! You brought Ms. Hilda back!" he whispered fiercely, unable to take his eyes off the woman, who was now breathing peacefully.

"I think she just needs sleep, so don’t wake her," I cautioned.

"What’s going on? Did you find Xiviyah?" Soltair’s voice came from behind the mayor. He pushed his way in, face twisting at the stench and sight of the legion of twisted statues.

"I’m here." I rose slowly and nodded at the Sun Hero, leaning against my staff for support. Even if it increased my efficiency, I had overused my mana again, casting four, or even five third-circle spells simultaneously in the hunt for the right modification. Collin stood quickly, face lifted in hope, and took my arm. I flinched at the sudden advance, but his grip was firm and uncompromising as he took me deeper into the tangle of statues. He was taller than me by a head and likely weighed almost half again my weight, but his urgency held no malice so I allowed him to lead me on.

"Can you do this one too?" he asked softly.

"I think so. The young girl with the flower?"

He nodded, hardly daring to breathe as the magic circles appeared above her. She looked no more than ten, and hid a crushed flower behind her back, as though protecting it from some great evil.

As the color returned to her cheeks, Collin collapsed with a sob, cradling the girl in his arms. "I’m sorry, April. I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave you again!"

"Gently," I murmured, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Don’t wake her."

His shoulders continued to shake with sobs, but he stiffly nodded and looked up with tear-stained cheeks. The gratitude in his eyes was overwhelming, and a felt a pleasant warmth in my heart. As he turned away, clutching her head to his chest, I took a shaky breath and looked over the myriads of statues.

Every one of them had a story, a family, a lover, perhaps. I couldn’t just stand here and watch as they suffer, locked in a prison of stone. The darkness pressed in around me, bearing the weight of the curse-ridden air, but I clutched my staff, lowering myself to lay a hand on the short locks of a man in his twenties.

As the stone disintegrated from his face, the mayor finally overcame his shock. "Impossible!" he muttered, "No one can break the stone of a basilisk! No one!"

"Why do you say that?" Soltair asked, leaning up against the wall. I spared them a glance but kept to myself and focused all my energy on restoring the villagers.

The mayor’s eyes rolled wildly, and he desperately kicked the nearby hammer and chisel, sending them spinning off into the darkness. "The letter we received promising aid stated as much. If even the council of mages says as much, of course, there is nothing to be done. W-we just left it at that."

Soltair’s eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything, several more villagers slipped through the gaping doorway. "We heard noises," one of them said.

The mayor gestured inward, and they squinted in the low, flickering, torchlight, before gasping in amazement. "She’s healing them! Do you think she can even get the ones we tried-"

"That’s enough. You, mage," the mayor said, raising his voice to address me, "try it on that one there."

I looked where he was pointing and saw a young woman with a long crack running down her waist. After a moment, I shook my head slowly. "I can’t feel her soul. I can break the curse, but it might be... messy."

Tearful cries burst from the villagers, and the mayor sighed darkly. "I see. That beast is truly vicious."

"Even if we can’t save them now, I swear we shall exact vengeance on the creature," Soltair replied solemnly.

The mourning villagers attracted more of their own, and soon half the village had convened. While many sobbed for lost loved ones, the rest watched in awe as magic circles filled the air, bringing back their cherished friends and family. Occasionally, someone would cry out and rush a recently resuscitated body, only to be held back by their neighbors for the risk of disturbing them.

I lost track of time, but my mana soon grew thin. After rising from healing a statue, I stumbled, my hood slipping free. I fought for balance but ran out of strength and my legs collapsed. A chorus of shocked gasps filled the room and the villagers stared at me with wide eyes and pointed with trembling fingers.

Soltair was at my side before I hit the ground, catching me in his strong arms. "That’s enough for now," he said firmly.

I shook my head, but my staff slipped from my fingers, breaking into light and returning to my satchel. My soul ached and my eyes darkened. The last thing I saw was the pleading eyes of a broken statue, staring lifelessly into mine.

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