The Forsaken Hero

I woke to morning light streaming through the tent, the previous day a hazy blur of cold and darkness. I vaguely remembered waking up and finding Luke and Fyren arguing over R’lissea, but everything was shrouded in a chilling fog after that.

I shivered against Fable, unsure if the cold from Haven had truly dissipated. His tail tightened around me, pulling me close to his side, his heartbeat hard and warm against mine. Somehow, I had changed into a nightdress, and I noticed Elise sleeping soundly on a cot beside mine. Had she moved into this tent to look after me?

Fable nuzzled my cheek, and I sighed, leaning against his warm fur. Relaxing into his embrace chased away the lingering chill and darkness of Haven’s taint. With his tail wrapped securely around me and his fur soft against my skin, I was tempted to drift back to sleep. Just the thought of pulling away and facing the cool autumn air made me shudder and snuggle closer.

But as my eyes fluttered closed, I suddenly remembered R’lissea’s words. Just how long have I been asleep? If I succumbed to slumber now, when would I wake again?

What was particularly strange was the absence of dreams or visions. I’d simply closed my eyes, and then it was morning. R’lissea had mentioned I slept for weeks at a time. Perhaps that was a mercy, considering the eternity I’d spent trapped in my soul space after the battle of Brithlite. Still, it was unsettling to lose so much time without any awareness.

Eventually, the fear of falling into another extended slumber overcame my reluctance, and I carefully untangled myself from Fable. Elise had cast a third-circle enchantment in the center of the tent, radiating waves of warmth that kept the chill at bay, but delicate swirls of frost still patterned the outer canvas. My gaze lingered on the frost, a reminder of the passage of time. When I’d last been outside, autumn had just arrived. Now, winter was knocking at the door.

Under normal circumstances, a month or two of rest would be a small price to pay for the freedom I had achieved. The loss of the sun purge alone was worth it, yet I couldn’t help but worry about my friends in the Last Light Company. My visions had shown them in good health, but if R’lissea was right, that could have been months ago. Where were they now? What were they doing without me? Had Korra and Gayron...?

I rubbed my horn, blushing at the thought even as I quickly pushed it aside. I had no love for Gayron, but if he could be there for Korra and support her in my absence, I could only be grateful. She deserved happiness, even if she found it in such an irritable man.

I had worried about what might happen when Gayron encountered the demon army, if he would leave her, but his presence in the Last Light Company in my vision revealed his true allegiance. That was confusing in its own right. He had been so driven to accomplish the demons’ goals, tirelessly urging Luke to kill us and, when that failed, trying to do it himself. What had happened to change that? Had meeting Korra truly altered his objectives as much as she had influenced his fighting style?