The Forsaken Hero

"Why did he have to leave?" I whined, the question echoing for the tenth time that night.

"He only said it was important, remember?" R’lissea’s response remained patient, though a slight strain in her voice betrayed her growing weariness with my incessant questioning. "It’s best to let him handle it and ask when he returns."

Fyren had departed an hour ago, vanishing into the twilight after exchanging a few final words. I had risen to embrace him, pleading once more for his swift return, before collapsing beside R’lissea again. Elise already occupied the coveted spot against his warm, furry stomach, so we snuggled together in front of the fire, our backs pressed against his flank.

"It’ll be fine, Xiviyah; there’s no need to worry," Luke said, his gaze steady and unwavering. He hadn’t looked away from me once, and it was starting to warm my cheeks. "Even with Fyren gone, nothing has changed. I won’t allow anyone – god, mortal, or demon – to attack you."

It was a curiously inclusive promise, considering the most immediate threat came from the demons surrounding us. I briefly wondered if this had something to do with Fyren’s sudden departure but quickly dismissed the thought. I had just managed to calm down, and dwelling on it would only reignite my anxiety.

"Is that why you haven’t left yet?" R’lissea asked pointedly.

He shrugged. "You know as well as I do that would be unwise. If they manage to slip past him..."

I groaned, rubbing my horns. "Please, if you don’t want me to know, can we at least stop talking about it?"

"Fine, fine," Luke conceded with a chuckle. "Is there something else you’d rather discuss?"