The Forsaken Hero

I awoke with a jolt and was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of grogginess. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I carefully disentangled myself from Fable’s comforting fur, mindful of the ever-present sunpurge. Sleep had become increasingly difficult lately, and I found myself eschewing the sheets to curl up with my wolf instead. If there was going to be pain no matter what I did, I might as well find solace in the warmth and safety of his embrace.

Strangely, it was still dark outside, with the moon high overhead. Its white light filtered through the canvas, seeming to set the entire tent aglow. For a few disoriented seconds, I couldn’t figure out what had woken me. With each passing night that took me further from my life as a slave, I slept deeper and more peacefully, especially during long, exhausting marches.

Then Fable stirred, raising his head, a low growl rumbling in his chest. I rested a hand on his chest, using him as a support to pull myself to my feet. The crisp autumn air caressed my body as I pulled free from his warmth, causing me to shiver.

I froze as a soft rustling noise came from outside my tent, a silhouette appearing against the canvas wall. Fable’s golden eyes locked onto the shadow, his lips curling back in a silent snarl. I took a nervous step closer to him, suddenly hyper-aware that I was clad in nothing but a thin nightgown.

"W-who is it?" I called out, my voice trembling slightly as I fumbled for my spatial ring, desperately searching for something to wear.

The figure paused, hesitating for what felt like an eternity before responding. "Xiviyah? Are you in there?"

The voice was soft and feminine, but my heart skipped a beat. I knew that voice.

"Yes?" I answered, my voice just as quiet, unable to keep the tremor from it.

"It’s me," the voice replied. A delicate hand pushed aside the tent flap, opening it wide enough for the figure to slip inside.

My breath caught as she rose to her full height, just an inch or two taller than me. As she looked around, her golden eyes filled with curiosity, a cascade of shimmering hair followed her every movement. Her figure was slender and graceful, her face smooth and beautiful. She wore a dark cloak that concealed her attire, but I caught a whisper of her skirt beneath the hem as she stepped closer.

"It’s me, Elise," she said again, a faint smile gracing her lips. "It’s been a while."