The Forsaken Hero

The march to the gate was the shortest journey I’d ever been on, taking all of five minutes on Fable’s back. The rest of the army took a little longer, about an hour between preparing to march and the last squad arriving. The terrain surrounding our destination was more of the same rolling hills and small peaks caught fast in the grip of winter, with sprawling pine forests and light undergrowth. The Gate was enormous, rivaling the Fire Gate I accidentally called outside Bluegate Keep. The massive vortex of energy was alive with frosty white and blue, emitting the distinct mana signature of ice demons. It was a relatively young gate, the bottom hovering a good twenty feet above the nearest hill and, by all estimates, still a few weeks away from breaking.

"Not bad," Korra muttered, eyeing the gate appreciatively. "I’ve never been inside a sixth-level gate before."

I glanced at her, my tail twitching in surprise. "Really? I thought they were commonplace now."

"Yeah, now. But the first ones to appear were the gates you and the archon closed, and I left my duties as a hero almost immediately after that. I probably could have taken one on my own then, but I didn’t have the chance."

I nodded and turned back to the gate. The Korra I remembered from back then was absurdly powerful, commanding seventh-level summon spells. I’d never had a chance to see her in an actual battle before, but I could only imagine the devastation her magic would cause. She’d chosen a different approach to her life after the Water God reclaimed her power but likely wasn’t weaker than the mage version of herself. The only difference was their fighting styles.

Mages typically excelled against armies, but individuals with the same power level as themselves could resist almost anything they could throw at them. But Korra’s current abilities were the complete opposite. She had limited wide-scale destruction attacks, but her arts and abilities allowed her to fight even over-level opponents, something that was all but impossible for even the most skilled warriors and demons.

"May I ask what your plan is, my la–erm, Xiviyah," Luxxa asked, favoring my name awkwardly.

I smiled at her, unable to stop the tip of my tail from flicking gratefully. She especially struggled to adjust to my request to refer to me by name. It likely had something to do with her noble background and strict adherence to customs, but I appreciated her efforts.