The Forsaken Hero

The dusky streets without the Glossy Sparrow gave way to soft, gray, morning light. The sun seemed to flow over the wall in viscous sheets, staining the tops of the buildings, slowly pouring down toward the street. In the time since Helron had arrived, it had successfully reached the upper eaves of the western-facing windows, spilling into the common room and illuminating the drifting motes of dust.

The arrival of the morning went mostly unnoticed amid our small council, but I couldn’t help but glance up as the sunlight fell across my horns, a warm itch spreading down the ridges into my scalp.

After baiting our attention with his remarks of the City Lord, Helron leaned forward intently. "The Circle of Chains has hidden in the shadows of the world for over a hundred years now, carefully scouting members among the ranks of various kingdoms’ nobility. Currently, their headquarters are based in Brithlite, the only country radical enough to whole-heartedly embrace the church’s more extreme policies while remaining so foolish as to propagate enslaving the ’lesser races’ openly." He used air quotes and shot me a wink, as though concerned I’d be offended at the term.

"Are they even hiding at this point? An illegal cult of slavers dedicated to enjoying their property shouldn’t be backing a major trading company, or involving themselves in the ruling echelon of a small city like Heartland," Rasce stated flatly.

"That’s part of the problem," Helron replied, "Ever since the church led the war that eradicated the Beast Kingdom, slavery has exploded in Enusia. Brithlite, as mere sycophants of the church, adopted the practice in full, proving ripe grounds for the Circle to flourish. Under the current Brithlite royal policy, their organization isn’t even frowned upon, much less illegal, so they must feel that the time had come to seize the power they’d been coveting from the shadows."

"They’re strong," I muttered, surprising even myself with the sudden interjection. As everyone turned to look at me, I blushed, picking at my skirt. "Well, I mean, Dyson cut off Vithrass’ arm, but he had it back when we saw him last. He mentioned something about it being healed by another member of the Circle, which means they have someone who can cast fifth-circle life spells. Most mages only study Life Magic as a secondary magic type, which means whoever it healed him can likely cast sixth or maybe even seventh-circle spells."

The room fell into a contemplative silence. The bed of embers in the large, stone fireplace crackled softly, sounding more like rustling leaves than burning wood. The bustle of the cooks in the kitchen, busy preparing for the day, worked its way beneath the thick doors and walls, accompanied by the mouth-watering scent of whatever it was they were preparing. My stomach growled at the thought of food, and I realized the last time I’d eaten was with Tana, at the restaurant the night before last. We’d met the Circle almost nonstop since then, the only break in the fighting consumed by short bursts of sleep in a desperate bid to recover mana.

At long last, Helron sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms. "That leaves us with a lot of uncertainty. Too much, for my liking. Everything I told you before, about sending out adventuring parties to gather information, was a lie. Beyond what we’ve discussed this morning, I haven’t a clue what’s going on, how much power they have, or where their hideouts may be. Until we resolve some of these unknowns, it’ll be best to lie low."

"Should we leave the city?" Dyson wondered, glancing at the door to the back room. "Most of the beastkin we freed are from Eastfall town, and I imagine they’ll be eager to get home."

"Worried about that girl?" Race said with a snort. "Honestly, I’m surprised you finally managed to woo one. I thought for sure you’d die alone."

Dyson smiled, taking the light-hearted jab in good humor. "I was just holding back for the right one. Everything up to now was just practice."