The Forsaken Hero

Chapter 1128: Darkness in the Light

We had been wrong. The gods were not content to sit back in complacence, waiting as we slowly ground ourselves down against the armies of Enusia. The heroes were not at the Divine Throne. Not all of them. Not Verity.

But now, there was no Verity. From the moment I’d seen her, I’d known. Like a cold stone settling in my gut. The soul that wore her body was no longer her own. The God of Fate had descended to Enusia, claiming her silver hair and eyes, her strength.

His objective couldn’t have been more clear, nor his conviction. The very first thing he’d done was freeze fate, his sword aimed at my heart. If Fyren and Fable hadn’t practiced endlessly with the Oracle of Eternity, if he hadn’t still been adjusting to his new form, then none of us would have escaped. And even now, Fyren was still there, fighting, buying us time.

As Fable bounded across the plains, seeking distance from the city, I sent a few streams of soulspeak to Incinderus and Zephyriss, informing them of the development. I was too far from Roann to open gates for the Fatesworn, but I prayed that, with enough warning from the demon lords, they could disengage on their own before they were cut off and surrounded. Or worse, Fate turned his ire on them.

Up ahead, the battle thickened. Streams of magic shot between both sides, exploding on impact with packs of demons or formations of soldiers. Shrieks and screams rent the air, and the dull clash of steel on scale and hide was deafening.

Luke. We had to get to Luke. I had to warn him.

My apostle was in the thick of it, dueling against Soltair and Luxaria. The dragon was in her humanoid form, growling in frustration as she struggled to keep up with the demonkin and the human.

"Luke!" I screamed as they broke apart, noticing our arrival.

"Xiviyah?" Both Luke and Soltair turned, glancing at me in confusion.

"We have to go!" I cried. "Verity, she...she’s gone. Fate--"

"It’s done, then," Soltair said, giving a small shake of his head. "Regrettable, but her sacrifice will not be in vain. Remember, it was you who had pushed us this far. You who forced her to take this measure."

"What measure?" Luke demanded, gripping his sword tightly. "What have you done?"

"What I had to."

The two circled each other slowly, blades raised. For some reason, Soltair’s soul wasn’t linked with Luxaria. But why? Unless--

"Luke, we need to retreat," I said, my tail flicking anxiously.

"Not now, not when we’re so close. That’s what they want, Xiviyah. He’s weak today. I can beat him."

Soltair grimaced, his stance tensing. "No darkness can stand against the light. It always shines through. The gods are with us. We will prevail."

"Fate’s here, Luke. Here. He’s coming!"

A roar swept across the plains, accompanied by a shockwave that made my wards flare. Luke’s eyes widened as a vertical arc of silver swept across the battlefield, leaving a chasm-like scar where the tail cut across the ground. It passed directly between him and Soltair, literally dividing the battlefield in half.

Soltair and Luxaria didn’t flinch. He took a long breath, relaxing slightly, and faced me. There was a gentle look in his eye, one that made my heart flutter. Was that not the same way he’d looked at me before? The same warmth he’d shared in the warehouse?

"Xiviyah, you have a chance to make everything right. Please, just come back to me. I promise I’ll protect you from the inquisitors and the church. All this destruction, all this death...it’s not you. It might be dark, and you’re afraid, but that’s not the real you."

"Xiviyah? You’re not taking him seriously, are you?" Luke asked, moving toward me. His tail flicked back and forth. "You can’t trust him."

Soltair’s face tightened. "And what, she’s supposed to trust a demon? The very one who’s enslaved her?" His voice softened again as he faced me once more. "It can be like old times. Better, even. Come home, and I promise everything will work out."

My throat went dry, closing up. My hand curled against my chest, gripping the ring tightly. Promise? Old times?

"Xiviyah?" Luke said, more hesitant this time. Fearful. I met his gaze, but couldn’t keep it, my eyes drawn back to Soltair.

He smiled encouragingly. "That’s right. I promise--"

"Your promises mean nothing," I whispered, shaking my head. Tears welled up in the corner of my eyes, spilling over. "I...I trusted you. Believed in you. Maybe even loved you. But you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, now I--" My throat closed up, and a sob caught me, wracking my chest.

Soltair nodded solemnly. "And that weighs heavily on me. But I’ve done nothing save it be for the good of the people we swore to protect."

"Me." I whispered, "Me, Soltair. You swore to protect me. But then you gave me to the inquisitors to torture and break. You let your friend take me to his room as a plaything. And you sold me to a man who wanted to do worse. Who did. Do you have any idea how much I’ve lost? How much you took from me? I can’t even trust myself now. How could I ever trust you?"

Soltair flinched, and he closed his eyes, looking pained. I clenched my fists, my voice rising.

"I thought it would have been better if I’d died. It was so dark, so cold..." I sniffled, wiping my eyes. "But now, I know the truth. You were right, Soltair. When the light does shine, no darkness can stand against it. That’s why I can’t return to you. No matter how bright your light, your shadows will always be darker."

He stared at me for the longest time, calm amid the storm. Then he let out a long, heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"His lies have sunk deep into your heart, haven’t they," he murmured, gaze sliding to Luke. His eyes darkened with anger. "I’m sorry, Xiviyah, that you feel that way. But, in time, you’ll learn to see the truth again. I promise. And until then...I’m sorry."

My heart fluttered. "You’re...sorry?"

"For what must happen next. It seems I’ve stalled long enough."

He took a step back, sheathing his sword. Luke and I exchanged glances. My heart felt full. There was so much I wanted to tell him. I needed his arms around me, to breathe in his warm, familiar scent.

Distracted by the ickiness in my chest, I didn’t feel it. The subtle shiver in my soul, the foreign presence rubbing against my aura. A sudden surge of aura knocked the breath from my lungs, and I collapsed onto Fable’s back.

When I raised my head, everything had shifted again. I blinked groggily, feeling sick to my stomach, the ugly wound in my shoulder flaring up again. Before us, a massive crater opened up on the battlefield. Hundreds of demons and humans littered the ground, leaking blood from their orifices. A golden dragon circled overhead, shedding the light of the sun over the night-darkened carnage.

In the center of the crater, Luke stood, braced on one knee, his sword grinding against the slender blade of the Fate God. He wore a touch of irritation on Verity’s, and with a swing of his sword, forced Luke back.

"How curious," he murmured, looking past Luke, his eyes locking on me. "How can a beast have such mastery over fate? And you, apostle--" His gaze returned. "How is it that you’re familiar enough to slip between the threads? No mortal should have such proficiency."

Luke gritted his teeth, and the point of his sword wavered, a tremor in his hands. Was he afraid? No, that wasn’t right. Luke had shown fear only once, and never toward an enemy.

"At last, you show yourself," he said, slowly circling the god. "I’ve been waiting for this for a very long time. A chance to shed Divine Blood."

The God of Fate frowned slightly. "How conceited. This is but a mortal shell bearing a fraction of my power. But even this is enough to bring this charade to an end."

The two clashed in a blur, exchanging a dozen moves in the blink of an eye. Shockwaves swept across the battlefield, erupting every time their swords met. Slowly, but surely, Luke was forced back. A single cut appeared on his chest, his blood oozing through the rend in his armor.

"You think to challenge me? A god?"

Fate brought his sword down in a two-handed strike, unleashing another arc of fate mana. It cut the air itself, opening spatial fissures in its wake. Luke attempted to dodge, but the arc...swerved? It didn’t seem to, but it should have missed. It just...didn’t.

Luke grunted as he flared his mana. Curses erupted around him, dismantling the arc just enough so his defenses could safely absorb it.

"A defensive art? Impressive," Fate lowered his sword, giving Luke a scrutinizing stare. "I wasn’t aware the mortals of this world had progressed beyond techniques."