The Forsaken Hero

I drifted through a world of darkness for a long, long time, lost in memories, nightmares, and visions. Time held no meaning, save when I was forced to relive agonizing minutes and hours of my life, or what may very well become it.

At last, the parade of Fate drew to a close. A light broke through the darkness, soft and warm, beckoning me forward. I reached out to it, and the light enveloped me. My soul grew heavy, and my mind clouded, shackled by my still-sleeping body. The light retreated, leaving me cold and alone again.

"...can’t allow that," R’lissea’s voice wafted through the haze. Her voice was taught and panicked, the way it was when she gripped her skirt or staff.

"We have to tell them something. It’s been a whole week!" Elise replied, equally tense. "And the banquets tonight!"

My eyelids resisted, my body restrained to a gentle groan. Everything hurt, from the tip of my itching horns to my aching tail.

"Then we’ll have to refuse in her stead–" R’lissea began.

"Perhaps this is something she should decide for herself." A deep, masculine voice interrupted. It was familiar, but I couldn’t quite recall the face it came from. Could it be Luke? Had he come to see if I was alright again?

My heart fluttered at the thought, and, at last, my body responded. I tilted my head, blinking bleary-eyed at the room. It was small and cozy, with a cheery fire burning in the small hearth. Stars winked at me through the window. It was open, the sheer white curtains stirring in the cool night breeze. A familiar room, yet my memories were scattered, and I couldn’t place them.

R’lissea stood over my bed, frowning at each other. Fyren leaned against the wall beside the window, watching me with no small amount of relief. And Luke? Where was he?

"Xiviyah?" R’lissea gasped as she caught my anxious gaze. "You’re awake!"

She knelt at the bedside, slipping her hand under the sheets. I shivered as it found mine, soft and warm. Her eyebrows furrowed.