The Forsaken Hero

A blinding pulse of white light erupted from the myriad Mirror Spheres within the inner courtyard, accompanied by a clear, piercing ring that echoed through the streets. The church’s soldiers cried out in pain and surprise, stumbling back as the reflected light burned their eyes. The sheer intensity of the blast was enough to knock many of the weaker soldiers off their feet, sending them sprawling across the cobblestones. The shockwave continued past the enemy company, shattering ice formations and toppling buildings weakened by the Ice Spirit’s rampage.

Barely a heartbeat later, the air crackled with chaotic energy as the Mirror Sphere spell turned their assault back on themselves. Bolts of lightning, balls of fire, shards of ice, and a thousand other elemental attacks arced out of the heart of the blinding glow, striking the soldiers where they stood. Screams of agony filled the air, mingling with the sharp scent of ozone and burnt flesh.

I winced, squeezing my eyes shut against the glare. Even through my closed eyelids, the light was blinding, a searing white that seemed to penetrate my very soul. A wave of nausea washed over me as the backlash of turning so many spells swept through the Nexus, and I swayed on my feet, barely managing to keep my grip on my staff. Were it not for the overwhelming power of the shard, that alone might have broken me.

When I finally dared to open my eyes, the courtyard was unrecognizable from before. The air shimmered with residual magic, and a faint haze of smoke lingered just above our heads. The enemy soldiers were scattered across the outer courtyard, slumped motionless amid the craters that pocketed the ground outside the walls. Of the three hundred or so soldiers who had attacked, less than a tenth escaped the reflection unscathed.

There was a long, profound silence filled with only the groans of the survivors. The Last Light Company stood stunned in place, staring at the absolute devastation on the other side of the wall. Many of them had been fighting demons for months by now, and yet their eyes still bulged in disbelief. Bethiv, who had just raised his hand to signal a counter-offensive, let it fall limp at his side.

"What the hell?" he muttered instead, casting a sidelong glance. His voice was quiet, but unmistakable in the settling smoke and silence.

Korra slapped my shoulder, sending me stumbling away a few paces, nearly losing my footing on the battlement. "Now that’s a spell. I can’t believe I’ve never had the chance to fight a battle with you before. Soltair’s a bastard for hogging you in the early days. Gates would have been so easy if we were together."

I nodded and rubbed my shoulder, relieved it had happened to be my uninjured shoulder that had been facing her. "I didn’t expect them all to shoot at once..."

I let my voice trail off, continuing to watch as smoke continued to curl from the scorched and blackened bodies. The company commander struggled to his feet, coughing up blood. He managed a look around the courtyard, blanching as he found his company in tatters, the survivors in no better shape than he was.