The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 82: Give and Take

Chapter 82: Give and Take

His question prompted echoes of the previous night to surface in my mind. With each curse I unraveled, I learned something more of the creature’s power. The endless tangle of magic held many runes I didn’t recognize, but the flow of magic was unmistakable.

"The basilisk’s curse has at least two functions. The first is to draw on its host’s soul to sustain the curse, meaning the only way the petrification is undone is when there is no longer enough strength to sustain it."

Soltair’s brow furrowed, a deep contemplation etching lines on his forehead. "At which point it’d be too late. And the second?"

"I’m not exactly certain on this, but it there appears to be some sort of link between the host’s soul and the monster, feeding it a steady supply of energy. I think that’s why it doesn’t eat or kill anyone, as it collects strength right from their soul. Most of them don’t have another week before they’re consumed entirely."

"So we just kill it before then, right?" Trithe asked nonchalantly.

I shook my head, feeling a wave of despondency. "I think that might be the worst possible thing. Right now, the flow is controlled, and sustainable if you will. When the basilisk dies, I fear it might be like ripping the spout off a waterskin, and their soul will leak out all at once.

"How could you possibly know all that?" Trithe asked skeptically. "You said yourself you didn’t understand what the curse was doing.

"I can see enough, given my abilities, to know we can’t take the risk," I argued. "Even if I’m wrong, will it hurt to save these people sooner rather than later?"

Soltair closed his eyes, taking on a troubled expression. "And what if they don’t want to be saved? Look at them out there. They’re terrified of you just being present in the village."

Their words hung like heavy curtains, casting shadows of doubt upon my resolve. Still, I clung to my conviction, unwilling to give up just yet. "We’re heroes. How can we just let people die?"

"And what do you owe them?" Trithe’s challenge pierced me like a dagger, slicing through my determination. "You already freed over twenty of them, yet they still locked us up. The mayor won’t even look you in the eye, and went so far as to insult you directly to your face."

"I-I..." What did I owe them? Why did I feel so strongly about this? The people of this world had done nothing but hurt and take, yet I wanted nothing but to give. As my will faltered, Collin’s desperate sobs as he cradled his little sister floated to the surface of my mind, shattering any doubts. I yearned to feel that unfamiliar warmth in my heart again, to see those broken faces curve up in joyful smiles. Maybe then....I could learn to do so as well.

As the doubts faded from my mind, Soltair stood and pushed his chair in. "We don’t even know if they’ll all die when the basilisk is gone. Let’s just take things one step at a time. We can return and check on things after we killed them. Maybe they’ll be more receptive after that."

"Soltair, please. Just let me try. If they really won’t let me heal them, then I’ll accept it and follow you without complaint."

He let out a long breath and glanced at Trithe. She shrugged, putting her feet on his now abandoned seat. "Whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you," she muttered.

"Okay, but under one condition. We will use this as a precedent. If the people accept your help, even reluctantly, I won’t get in the way in the future. But, if they don’t, we won’t have this discussion again."

"But what if-"

"Xiviyah, this will only lead to hurt. I, uh, don’t want to see you cry anymore. Please."

I swallowed against the lump in my throat, at a loss for words. "Okay," I finally whispered.

After taking a moment to gather myself, I gathered my things and unlatched the door. Trithe and Soltair were similarly ready to go, with the mindset we could dip the instant things got ugly. Not that they would. I had to believe in them.

I reached for my cloak, but Soltair’s gentle grip halted my movements. "No hiding. Either they embrace you as you stand or reject you as you are."

I hesitated, then nodded. Pushing open the door, I took a deep breath and strode out into the morning sun. Before the door had even closed, eyes gathered onto us. Everyone stopped what they were doing, watching silently as we moved through the village toward the barn. The wind rustled through the trees and a dog barked in the distance, but everything around was still. The stares were unnerving, and even Trithe seemed a little uncomfortable.

As we approached the barn, the guard crossed his arms, face etched in a scowl. "That’s far enough, filthblood."

"Yes, we can’t risk you tainting any more of our people," the mayor said, appearing behind us. I glanced back and he averted his gaze the instant we made eye contact. Where had he come from?

Soltair stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Good morning, people of Whiteriver Village! We’re going to slay that beast first, but our schedule has tightened up, and we won’t be able to return. My companion here wanted to free the rest of your people before we left, so if you’ll excuse us..."

The guard hesitated, looking over our shoulder at the mayor. I followed his gaze, conscious of my tail, which was twitching nervously. During the brief exchange, most of the village had flooded the square, as though waiting for us o make our appearance. They watched with tentative gazes and bated breath, all eyes focused on the mayor.

After some time, the mayor’s face hardened. "I won’t stop any who wish this filthblood to corrupt their kin, but they certainly won’t have a place here anymore. What’s done is done, and I can’t fault those who have already been healed for this monster’s deception last night. They’ll all be brought back anyway, once the beast is dead, but I won’t stop any from selling themselves for its service. You’ve been warned."

With that, he gave a sharp nod and strode away. The guard relaxed and stepped aside, giving access to the barn. I swept my gaze around the gathered villagers, but my hope died upon their stony gazes.

"Is, um, there anyone?" I called weakly.

A long, painful minute of absolute silence dragged by. I shuddered as Soltair nodded sadly, and said, "That’s enough. We’re going."

"They’re all going to die," I whispered.

"That’s their choice. We gave them every opportunity."

He gripped my shoulder, gently guiding me away from the barn. The crowd parted to let us through, faces twisting in disgust as they got close enough to make out the details of my demonic heritage. A hot glob of spit sailed out from somewhere near the back, striking my cheek with an audible smack.

"And don’t come back," someone muttered.

Soltair stiffened but continued walking. Unable to do anything but follow his lead, I wiped the saliva off and cast a final glance at the barn. Why had no one spoken up? What happened to those I already healed? They should have at least tried to convince someone else, having experienced the horrors of the curse themselves.

As we broke through the ring of people, a youth caught my eye. Collin. He hung back, clutching a young girl to his chest and staring at me fearfully. That was it. I turned away, tears streaming down my cheeks, and followed Soltair into the woods. Trithe lingered behind, her steps falling into sync with mine, sharing in my silence.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. I blinked, clearing my vision, and looked up at her. She smiled sympathetically and reached forward, smoothing a lock of crimson hair behind my ear.

"Why?" I murmured.

Our footsteps crunched softly on the beaten dirt path as we headed into the mountains. I’d nearly forgotten my question when her voice finally responded. "I don’t know. I just, uh, haven’t seen someone look that sad before. Don’t think too much about it," she finished quickly, speeding up to walk beside Soltair.

Her words caught me by surprise and I watched her flowing, graceful movements from behind. Her long, blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders, flowing with every move of her head as she engaged Soltair in a light conversation. So much had been taken from me, and it hurt all the more when I finally tried to give, only to be scorned and cast aside. Slowly, the memory of last night, of Collin’s grateful eyes as he cradled his revived sister, blurred. The him from this morning took its place, as he hid his sister behind him, protecting her from the one who saved her.