The Forsaken Hero

After the morning’s excitement, I was relieved to reunite with Elise and R’lissea. They waited anxiously in the inn’s common room, already packed and ready to depart. As we waited for the rest of the infernal horde to assemble, I filled them in on what had happened, omitting the more embarrassing moments, like when Luke hugged me out of nowhere.

By the time I finished my recounting, the demons were ready to move, and the march got underway. It was nothing like a mortal army’s organized ranks and columns but more like a tidal surge. The demons received general sentiments and orders through the soul mark, which, in this case, was simply a direction to travel. Asking more of scions with the intelligence of animals was impossible, resulting in a disorganized wave of demons rolling across the landscape. The stronger, more intelligent ones would often fan out, searching for villages or straggling refugees, ranging for miles before the soul mark eventually pulled them back to the main force.

That was where the differences ended, however. The rest of the day-to-day march was too similar to my time with the Last Light Company. Aside from the lack of friendly faces, the infernal horde’s relentless pace was grueling. They had little need for sleep and often marched for days on end, even the weakest scions forced to stumble onward by the soul mark long after their strength was exhausted. Passing scions too weak to continue, left for dead by the wayside, was a common sight, and I quickly grew accustomed to the grim reality of the demon horde’s advance.

For my part, I tried my best to walk alongside Elise and R’lissea, but quickly found myself struggling, just as I had when trying to keep up with the Last Light Company. The pace was simply too fast, and I was constantly hurrying to catch up.

After watching me struggle for an hour or two, Fable snuck up behind me and gently grasped my cloak in his jaws, pulling me onto his back. I protested, of course, but was betrayed by R’lissea, who readily agreed with Fable. I stubbornly insisted on walking for an hour or so each day, but after the first week, I abandoned the attempt and resigned myself to riding.

Occasionally, Elise would join me, riding behind me to rest. As a fifth-level mage with no physical training, her endurance was limited. R’lissea, on the other hand, possessed the stamina of a seasoned warrior and could manage the grueling pace with the infrequent breaks the apostles allowed.

As we traveled, I gained a deeper understanding of the demon horde’s organization. My previous observations, limited to the immediate army under Luke’s command, had been incomplete.

Aside from the demons themselves, a large contingent of demonkin and beastkin accompanied us. They numbered almost as many as the demons, and most were rough and crude, hailing from bandit or cultist origins. Their loyalty stemmed from a shared hatred of the gods, the Church, or their former kingdoms. I tried to avoid interacting with them, as my past as a hero often made me the target of scorn and mockery.

There were a few escaped slaves among them, many of whom had suffered under the Circle. They were grateful for my role in dismantling the organization and often defended me, but that only escalated the inevitable conflicts that arose. It was easier to simply avoid them all and remain with the demons.