The Forsaken Hero

Luke’s anger was dark and heavy, a miasma as thick as any curse. It smothered my soul until the only thing I could feel was his hand in mine, though whether it was the touch of his physical body outside the soulspace or the manifestation of his soul, I didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, either; it was the only thing I could cling to as our souls and memories entertained.

Glimpses of battles, faces, and conversations flashed through the darkness, seen through the eyes of the Apostle of Curses. It was one dark, horrible scene after another. Blood-soaked streets, demons slaughtering each other over the smallest child’s soul, and lots of fire and death.

From the snapshots, it quickly became apparent the demon armies were nothing like the men and women I knew and fought beside. They were cold and ruthless, caring for nothing but a chance to absorb souls and grow in status and power. Evolved demons killed scions at the merest offense, and even those powerful enough to develop a sense of consciousness and intelligence were little more than animals. It was only those above fourth-level that could be reasoned with at all, but even then rarely.

I saw the other apostles, as well. Evla and Gayron appeared the most, but other unknown faces danced in the shadows of the past. Some of Luke’s feelings associated with those memories came through, impressing upon me deeply. There was wariness, distrust, and even a touch of fear. The scenes had no respect for linear time, but throughout it all, there was only one single time all ten apostles were together.

That memory was particularly dark and blurry, with strong underlying currents of unease. There was a brief flash of a silhouette of a dark-robed figure seemingly made of darkness itself, with glowing red eyes that seemed to float in his smothering cowl. The scene was gone as quickly as it came, leaving me wondering. Was this the one who had called the apostles and given them their mission?

As fate drew out more of his memories, winding them around my soul like black ribbons, I caught a glimpse of a shining golden thread twining through the darkness. I got a sense of sadness from them, some so deep and intense it resonated with the anguish I carried hidden in my heart, the lingering remnants of the pain I’d suffered throughout my life. The threads bound Luke as tightly as his memories did me, clinging to him and impressing in him the truth they carried.

Time in the soulspace was nothing more than an idle whim. The onslaught of Luke’s memories seemed to last forever, yet ended in an instant. Luke was strong and fiercely resisted the amplifying influence of the soulspace, gradually regaining his composure.

As his soul and mana began to calm, his anger was replaced by a profound sense of sorrow. The storm of visions slowed as Luke’s hand tightened around mine, thinning the shards of memories assaulting my mind.

"How?" I heard him whisper through the haze in a broken voice. "How can you smile?"