The Forsaken Hero

Borealis slammed into the skyship like a meteor, a whirlwind of ice and fury. Protective wards flared beneath his massive talons, only to shatter an instant later, exposing the deck. Soldiers scattered, scrambling for the nearest handhold as Borealis reached the ship.

The leftmost deck crumpled like paper beneath the demon’s titanic talons. The force of our impact caused the skyship to lurch violently, tilting precariously to one side and plummeting hundreds of feet of altitude. Soldiers screamed as they were flung from the deck, their bodies tossed into the air like rag dolls. Their cries echoed in the wind, fading with every passing second as they fell toward the city below.

I screamed, too, burying my face in Fable’s fur. Borealis had attacked so swiftly that I hadn’t a moment to grasp his intent or brace for impact. Amidst the chaos, R’lissea continued her spell casting, her soft chanting swallowed by the screech of tortured metal and the cries of the wounded.

Borealis lunged forward across the deck, his claws tearing through mana cannons and leaving deep gashes in the ship’s armor. Ice spread from wherever his talons touched, creeping over struggling soldiers and encasing them in crystalline prisons. The attack had lasted mere seconds, but the entire leftmost deck was devastated, the mana cannons reduced to twisted wreckage or frozen within the ice. The few soldiers who survived huddled behind whatever shelter they could find, faces pale and hands trembling.

At last, the crystal core nestled deep within the hull blazed to life, its hum rising above the destruction. Crystals along the hull flared in response, and the ship shuddered, slowly stabilizing its descent. As the decks leveled out, the surviving soldiers began to regain their footing. Powerful auras lit up across the deck: one, two...no, three seventh-level soldiers. The first wore a mage’s robes, the others full plate armor.

An eerie calm descended as Borealis shifted his stance, turning to face the remaining deck. Soldiers and mages rallied into a loose formation, their gazes locked on the dragon in defiance. Besides the seventh-level combatants, I counted at least a dozen sixth-level mages and over a hundred weaker ones. The air thrummed with the power of their combined auras.

"We should leave," I whimpered, huddling deeper into Fable’s fur. "We need to find Luke and—"

My blood ran cold. Luke! I scrambled into a sitting position, my stomach churning as I frantically searched for any sign of the apostles. But there was nothing but a sea of glittering feathers across the demon’s back, no familiar face to offer reassurance.

"Luke...?" I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. Where was he? He couldn’t be... gone.