The Forsaken Hero

Chapter 1130: Hunted

I reached for my staff, intending to summon Haven, but with a flick of his tail, Fable knocked it from my hands.

"Hey!" I glared at him, summoning it again, "Stop that! I’m not playing right now."

A low growl rumbled in his throat, and I froze, a chill running down my tail. His fur had risen, the tip bristling as it waved threateningly behind him. His ears lay flat on his skull, and the rumble turned into a growl.

I held out my hands defensively, keeping them on either side of my staff, just in case he decided to bat at it again. But he was no longer looking at me, his muzzle twisted to face the low hill.

My heart skipped a beat as I spotted a farmer dressed in thick winter wools looking around their little garden. It was fallow, of course, the soil crusted with frost, but faint swirls of starlight drifted around him, drawn to his soul. Tentatively, he reached out, dragging his hand through a current, and shivered. He turned back to the house, calling something to a woman standing nervously in the doorway.

"We need to go," I whispered, forcing myself to my feet. My entire body groaned in protest, and I pressed a hand to my shoulder, stifling a whimper.

Fable growled softly and nudged me from behind, urging me to move. I let him push under me, shifting my weight to a more comfortable position as he gently flipped me on his back. He headed away at a trot, careful not to jostle me too much.

"Gods, I hate being weak," I mumbled, slumping forward, hugging around his neck with my one good arm. The other dangled uselessly at my side.

We traveled across the countryside, slipping between farms and small villages. Across the fields, I made out more lumps of hay and ungathered crops. It hadn’t struck me as odd before, but as the afternoon passed and flurries began to fall, I began to grow on edge. Winter had been mild so far, but no farmer could survive leaving their harvest unattended. And despite the chill, shouldn’t there have been more people?

Twice, I tried to get Fable to stop so I could cast a Spatial Rift or open the way to Haven, but he dismissed the request with a flick of his ears, his wariness oozing through the bond.

"I can’t keep going," I finally protested, my voice wavering. "Please, I need help. I can’t heal myself with this in my arm, and I can’t pull it out. I wish I knew a spell to do that, but I don’t!"

With an irritable grunt, he finally slowed, finding a small grove of leafless trees in a hollow. A little brook ran through it, the edges crusted with ice. There was a small village over the hill, but I wasn’t worried. It would take a few minutes for my aura to manifest.

I slid from his back and approached the water, finding a silk rag in my spatial ring. I shuddered as I dipped it in the water, gently dabbing crusts of dried blood from my shoulder.

"So, why won’t you let me open a gate?" I asked in a small voice, turning to look at my wolf.

He whined softly, lying down with his ears flat.

"A remnant? You want me to summon a remnant? But that’s...I can only do that once!"

He pawed at his nose, his gaze unwavering. I groaned, touching my horn. What was the difference between opening a gate and calling a remnant? There was no difference if he was worried about my mana attracting attention. I was more than aware that the god of fate was actively hunting me.

"Fine," I grumbled, my tail twitching agitatedly. "But you’d better have a good reason."

I summoned my staff and, giving Fable a meaningful look, tapped into its power. Instead of opening a gate, I called on that power deep inside. A shiver ran through fate, but it was small, a ripple that faded before leaving the hollow. My aura condensed into a tall, lithe figure.

"Yes! Finally!" Jasrin snapped into being, a cheap grin on his face. He stretched dramatically, doing a little flip in the air before settling down, hands on his hips. "It’s about damn time!"

I audibly groaned, sinking back against Fable. Of all the remnants...

Just as quickly as Jasrin’s grin came, it faded, and he knelt at my side. "You look terrible. Aren’t you supposed to be attacking that Divine Throne and whatnot right now? What happened?"

I sank lower, my tail flicking limply. What use was there in being disappointed? Of course it would be Jasrin. I shot Fable a glare.

"That looks bad. Hold still," he said, leaning close.

I froze as his hand brushed my shoulder, sending an electric jolt through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for their incoming pain, but instead, a cool softness radiated through my body. I let out a shaky breath, a tear of relief trickling down my cheek. When I opened my eyes again, Jasrin was sitting across from me, weighing a shard of black obsidian in his hand.

I touched my shoulder, marveling at the silky smooth skin beneath my fingers. No trace of the wound, the blood, or the pain remained. More tears spilled over, and I sniffled.

"Hey, hey, none of that," Jasrin said, looking around awkwardly. With a helpless shrug, he reached forward and patted me on the knee. "Don’t cry. I really won’t know what to do."

"Thank you," I mumbled. Shame flooded me, and I looked down, biting my lip. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to feel someone, even if it was Jasrin.

"Thank fate," he sighed, sitting back as I dried my tears. "Now, if you’ve calmed down a bit, why don’t you fill me in? I wasn’t exactly expecting you to call me to a place like this."

Slowly, still sniffling, the story came tumbling out. His face grew somber as I talked, and he audibly gasped when I got to the part where Fate descended.

"Gods above," he whispered, staring at me. Through me. "He sacrificed his own hero?"

"I wanted to run to Haven and tell everyone, but Fable wouldn’t let me."

Jasrin glanced at Fable and let out a dry bark of laughter. "Good instincts, on this one. Opening a gate to Haven might very well have doomed us all."

I blanched, dread coiling in my stomach. Just how much had my ignorance almost cost us?

"Yeah, see, you’re not just fighting the church anymore. There’s a literal god on Enusia actively hunting you. You obviously don’t understand what that really means. Every time anything, and I mean anything, touches fate, he’s aware of it. If what you said was true, and you showed him the gate to Haven, that means he’s perfectly attuned. The instant you try to open a gate, it’ll draw him right to it, like a fly caught in a spiderweb. In fact, that’s likely true for any spell you cast. He knows your unique magic signature and the feel of your aura. The instant it brushes fate, it’ll be too late."

"But that’s...that’s not possible," I protested. "He doesn’t even have a divinity!"

"No, and be grateful for that. But he did use a hero as a host. His avatar possesses every power and ability this hero had in life, but augmented by the power of a god. Were it not for the Oracle of Eternity, you never would have escaped in the first place, and until you touch fate, you’re practically invisible.

"I...." I trailed off, looking at Fable. "You knew?"

He gazed back, calm and even. I lowered my head.

"I’m sorry. I should have trusted you more."

"Now, as for this, it seems to be a fragment of that demon’s sword. Is he alright?" Jasrin asked, holding up the shard.

"Fyren’s sword?"

I stared at it. The sliver was about the length of my hand, but thin and narrow, like the blade of a dagger. Old, inactive enchantments were laced throughout it, but their magic had faded when it chipped.

It had hit me the first time Fate froze time, and Fyren intercepted him. Had one strike done that? But that sword bore eighth-level enchantments? How could it break so easily? freewebnoveℓ.com

"Luke...?" I covered my mouth, tears wavering in my eyes again. If only I’d realized. I’d already told him to run, but if he knew just how strong his opponent was, then maybe he wouldn’t have--

"Easy, child," Jasrin said. "Things might look bad, but on the bright side, you survived. The initial engagement is always the most dangerous, for that’s when the avatar is at the peak of its power. Their presence chafes against the realm, and like Haven when it was still an ice spirit, it will be eroded. Fate isn’t a strong god, not by any means, and I find it unlikely he’ll be able to persist for more than a month before the hero’s body disintegrates from the strain."

"You know a lot about this."

He flashed me a cock-eyed smile. "I’ve seen my share of battles. But more importantly, right now, let me be clear: you’re on your own. Try to enter Haven, and he’ll teleport to you before you can step through. Cast a spell stronger than a third-circle? Bam, same story. And even if you lie low, he’s probably turned the entire army, every inquisitor, and every person they’ve bound with a heart crest out looking for you anyway. They’ve likely got eyes on the fleeing horde, and know you’re not there, so they’ll be combing every stretch of friendly territory."

"I can’t even call Borealis to me?"

He shook his head. "Spatial Magic is the same, for it twists fate to accomplish its goals. All you can rely on is you, your wolf, and me." His grin widened, sending a shiver down my spine. "I alone am more than enough. Arbiter, remnant, Fatesworn...all names given to me by others. The one title I alone claim is hunter. And I’ll be damned if I let you become prey."