The Forsaken Hero

The banquet hall hadn’t changed since I’d seen it. The stained glass panels in the vaulted ceilings allowed just enough sunlight through to dance on the beautiful mosaics painted across the tile floor. The rest of the light came from the grand chandeliers shining with thousands of light crystals, illuminating the ornately carved elongated tables that served as seating for the guests.

There were plenty of guests, perhaps fifty in total. The atmosphere was festive and lively, though contained within the pretentious auras of the nobles and clergy. The faces were all blurred, their features unimportant to me or the vision, save for the table resting on the raised dias below the space of royalty and the upper echelon of the church. Luke must have noticed them the same moment I did, for his soul quivered with anger even as I shrank back.

Soltair sat at the head with Alex and a woman I didn’t recognize on either side. Connor was there, as well, though he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, idly sipping from a cup of fine wine. Ronin sat on the other end with R’lissea, though they were spaced further apart than I’d ever seen them sit. From the young elf girl’s distracted gaze and apparent stiffness toward the War Hero, it seemed their relationship was not as I’d last seen it. She didn’t seem interested in anything, actually, just staring at her plate of untouched food, idly twisting a long strand of glossy blonde hair between her fingers.

Their heroic presence and powerful souls should have filled a kingdom, yet the table felt empty and barren. The seats were barely half full, the holes in the heroes’ ranks more than apparent.

Ten seats for ten heroes. The table for heroes. Only heroes could sit there. At that thought, my gaze snapped back to the woman sitting beside Soltair. She was younger than I first guessed, seeming about my own age, though there was a purity and innocence around her I could never have, not after the darkness I’d suffered. She had shining silver hair bound in a tight braid that reached her waist and eyes of a matching color. Her dress was beautiful and heavily embroidered, featuring a single, ornate star on a bodice that revealed too much of her ample breasts for my taste. The skirt was long and trailing, trimmed with silk that brushed about her ankles, yet still managing to show off her perfect form.

My soul shivered as she looked up, a slight frown on her lips, seeming to stare right at me. Bits of starlight floated across her pupils like bits of flotsam, and the currents of her soul were unmistakable. This beautiful, pure girl sitting at Soltair’s side was the Fate Hero.

It was confirmed a moment later as Soltair himself reached over and rested a hand over hers, a gesture with unmistakable intimacy. "Verity, is everything alright? You look distracted."

Verity blinked and gave her a head a little shake. "I...think so," she said in a voice as soft and sweet as a summer flower. "My mana’s doing something strange, but I don’t know why. I didn’t even activate my ability or anything."

Soltair’s eyebrows knit together, and he leaned forward, strengthening his grip on her hand. "Strange, and you’re sure it’s related to the Eyes of Fate?"