The Forsaken Hero

Chapter 1121: Deep Breath

The land sloped upward, the forests fading away as we entered the plains surrounding Roann and the Divine Throne. As twilight fell, the city lights glimmered on the horizon, surrounded by hundreds of glowing cookfires. Small beads of light drifted over the distant battlements: skyships patrolling the air. The spires of the Divine Throne glimmered behind it all, white against the darkening mountain backdrop.

Luke’s horde came to rest a few miles from their front lines, snapping and snarling, but obeying his command to halt. Fyren found us a few minutes later, arriving in a cloud of white fire.

"The apostle plans to strike shortly before sunrise. Fatesworn scouts have infiltrated the city and are currently mapping their defenses," he explained.

"It’s too last-minute," Bethiv mused, rubbing his chin. "Ideally, for a battle of this scale, I would have preferred weeks of espionage in our scabbards and a comprehensive idea of their strength. I don’t suppose you’ve seen much of their defenses, have you?"

I shook my head. "They keep everything warded. Even looking ahead after the battle is foggy. There are too many ways this fight can go to accurately predict the outcome."

"The apostle ordered us to position ourselves between Roann and the Divine Throne to cut off any reinforcements," Fyren said.

Bethiv’s eyes narrowed. "There are at least three ninth-level beings there. What does he expect us to do if they emerge from their holes and engage?"

"They won’t," Fyren said.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked, holding my tail as it twitched into my lap. "They have hundreds of thousands of soldiers here. If they let us win, they’ll have only a few tens of thousands to defend the Throne."

Fyren nodded, but he didn’t waver. "They never do. In every world, it’s the same. Ninth-level beings haven’t gained that much power without much sacrifice and effort. While they could fight us with the full power of their armies, they also know we are at the peak of ours."

"Yes, but--"

"No, he’s right," Bethiv said slowly, realization dawning in his eyes. "It’s already an equal fight if they just send their heroes. There’s no reason to risk themselves."

"But if they fought, they could crush us. We only have Luke."

"But what about after?"

I blinked, tilting my head. "After? Why would that matter? They can do whatever they want if they win."

"I wish everyone had that perspective," Bethiv murmured. "But if the church defeats us here, the coalition they assembled falls apart. The demons will collapse, and their world will be purged. That opens a massive power vacuum in every corner of the world. If the Divine Throne risks its strength and loses it, that places it in a terrible position. Even worse from their perspective, if they engage and win, they’ll conveniently save all the strength of those countries."

Fyren continued, "Without sacrifices, their morale will be high. They won’t be dependent on the gods to protect or help them recover. Life will return to normal."

A small pit formed in my stomach. "That...can’t be right."

"They enslaved all of Brihtilte," Bethiv answered, an edge to his voice. "They slaughtered an entire city in Blacksand. Do you really think the gods care?"

"But that’s--"

"War."

I swallowed my argument. War required sacrifices, and I couldn’t question that the Divine was willing to make them. I’d been one of those sacrifices, once. That was why I was here in the first place.

"Are you absolutely sure?" I whispered, turning to Fyren.

He nodded. "As I said, it’s the same in every world. Mortals would rather calculate politics than ensure victory, and the same is true of the gods. They will do everything they can to guarantee that they don’t just win, but come out with the best possible scenario for their gain."

"Even without the church’s power, we will still contend with the heroes," Bethiv said. "They will be coming from the Divine Throne."

"Soltair will go to fight Luke," I said. "He’s the only one that can stop him, after all. And, well..." I touched my ring, rolling it between two fingers.

"What of the fire and fate heroes? And if they summon an arbiter?"

"There are only two, now. Korra and the others can handle Alex and Verity. You, Fable, and I," I said, addressing Fyren, "Can fight any arbiter. We might not be able to kill it, but we can hold it off long enough for the others to come help. That’s worked in the past, right?"

"All the more reason to avoid that strategy," Bethiv said. "But I don’t see any other way. You can only diversify your tactics to your resources, and when it comes to high-level combatants, we’re very stale. The church holds the advantage here, having thousands of years of development and hidden trump cards over us."

Fyren folded his arms. "Your perspective is colored by your lifespan. The gods deliberately withhold knowledge and power from their followers to keep them dependent. Their years mean nothing if they haven’t been accumulating during that time. And don’t underestimate the Fatesworn. No being, mortal or immortal, has yet to face a fate demon or whatever strange beings you mortals are becoming. The Fatesworn are the most experienced and skilled force on Enusia right now, and even if our numbers are low, in the stars of the Oracle, we have the power to match."

"Then we’ll proceed with faith in you," Bethiv said, bowing his head to me. "I’ll continue to gather information until we move. I think it would be best to recover our forces into Haven, and strike after you’ve maneuvered behind their lines."

"Yes, that will be easiest. Otherwise, we’ll have to force our way through their flank, and that will take too much time," Fyren agreed.

With that settled, I opened a gate to Haven, and the small vanguard of soldiers and demons who had accompanied me since Emberhold entered the realm. I was quick to follow them, having no real reason to remain in Enusia. Doing so would only expose me to raids and assassins, if any of them are insane enough to leave the safety of their fortifications and attack the horde.

R’lissea met me on the other side, clasping my hand as soon as my feet touched the pacing stones. I greeted her with a hug, clinging to her.

"Are you okay, Xiviyah? You seem troubled," she asked gently, squeezing me.

"I just saw Jessia," I muttered into her shoulder.

Her eyes widened. "What? Did she try to hurt you?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know. She just...teased me? It doesn’t make any sense."

"I don’t like it," she muttered. "I don’t see why Luke won’t do anything about it."

"He...doesn’t know. He always brushes me off whenever I tell him, and so I...stopped."

"Oh, Xiviyah." She rested her hand on my head, combing my hair with her fingers. "It’s alright. No matter what she’s scheming, we’ll protect you."

"I know." I forced a small smile. "Thanks."

Taking me by the hand, she pulled me into the realm. "Come, you can tell me more. But not here. There’s some place I have to show you. It appeared last week!"

If it was such a big deal, why hadn’t I heard about it? But I let my questions go, carried away in her enthusiasm. If there was something exciting enough to lift her worries about the war, then it was surely worth seeing.

We came to a small island with a low stone wall raised around it. A single bridge led to a gate watched over by a remnant I didn’t recognize. He wore a loose robe that bared his chest, almost reminding me of--

I gasped, my eyes widening as I saw a few wisps of steam curling over the low wall. I turned to R’lissea, my tail close to wagging. Or maybe it actually was, though I’d never admit the fact.

"A hot spring?"

She grinned, nodding. "Come on."

The remnant barely raised a hand in greeting before she pulled me past him, entering a small courtyard within. Mist flowed across the floor, curling around our ankles. Small archways set in the walls led to changing rooms, with wooden shelves where I carefully placed the Aetherial Prism and my spatial ring.

"The springs are divided," R’lissea explained as she began unlacing her dress.

Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough, because as soon as she placed her dress on the shelf, she began tugging at my sleeves. I giggled as she pulled my dress over my head and kicked off my boots. The paving stones were strangely warm against the soles of my bare feet, and I shivered at the contrasting coolness of the astral breeze against my skin.

"Hurry up," she teased, grabbing my hand again.

"O-oh, right."

We stepped through another archway, and I gasped, my free hand flying to my chest. Like the hot springs at Blacksand, these ones were modeled as naturally as possible, with steamy water burbling over rocky outcrops and pouring into a series of interconnected pools. A gentle current moved the water from pool to pool, crystal clear over the smooth, uneven stones at the bottom. There was no ceiling, and I hesitated in the entrance, glancing up at the sky. The walls were high enough, but everyone in Haven knew how to fly, didn’t they? Not to mention, we weren’t even the highest island in the realm.

But my worries were unfounded. The steam gathered above the springs, creating a wispy barrier of gentle mist that blurred the air. While the starlight still penetrated and reflected on the rippling water, the islands floating in our field of view were reduced to vague shapes and colors.

We were alone, despite the pool’s size. I felt a touch of guilt alongside my relief, knowing it was probably because the Fatesworn were busy preparing for battle, but that vanished as R’lissea all but pushed me in.

"H-Hey!" I spluttered as warm water rose to my waist. My protests died into a soft gasp as the heat soaked into my tail. "O-oh..."

It was perfect. My worries melted away as I sank lower, letting my hair fan out behind me into the lazy current. The only thing that kept me from disappearing entirely was the light touch of the rocky bottom against my skin.

R’lissea eased into the water beside me with a sigh of satisfaction. She brushed her hair back and rested her head on a smooth, warm rock.

"Feels wonderful, doesn’t it?"

"Is it wrong?" I asked softly. "Being here? Feeling like this?"

She laughed, to my surprise. Her smile softened as I turned to her in consternation.

"It’s alright," she said, holding up her hands, still smiling. "Everyone else has already had their turn, actually. This place has been packed since we first found it. Even the demons like it, but," she said, giggling as I blanched. "The water cleans itself. So don’t worry about anything. I got Theriv, the remnant who picked this place up, to clear everyone else out. I remember how shy you got last time," she teased.

My tail swished under the water, and I lowered my chin. As hard as it was knowing I was imposing, I couldn’t manage to protest. If anything, I wanted to call Haven and demand to know why he hadn’t created this first. I wouldn’t have complained if this had been the first island instead of the Heart of Haven. It didn’t matter how helpful that place had been in helping me learn to control my visions. It couldn’t have been better than this.

I scooted next to R’lissea and lay my head on the rock beside hers, watching the misty sky through my lashes. Occasionally, a glowing star drifted through, casting shadows across my face before it disappeared into the distance. I took slow, deep breaths, trying to forget the world beyond the hot spring. Trying to forget the battle that was coming in the morning, and how tired and weary I was.

Taking a deep breath, I sank into the water, letting everything wash away. Just a little bit more. Just a few battles, a few days, and I’d finally be free.