The Forsaken Hero

A soft knock at the door startled me to my feet. I quickly adjusted my dress, but there was no hiding the way my sweat made it cling to my body. A hint of the presence behind the door quelled any anxiety, though, so I ran over and opened it.

"I’ve come," Fyren said, fully dressed and armored.

I blinked, wiping a tear from my cheek. "W-what?"

He looked inside, taking in Fable and my bedraggled appearance. His frown deepened. "You called for me. I answer."

I touched my chest, where the infernal mark still burned with the voices of the demons. I started to tear up.

"I...I didn’t want to be alone. He’s...coming. Rash’alon. He’s the same demon!"

Fyren stiffened. "What? When?"

I shook my head. "Soon. A week, maybe a few days. But he saw me! He knows where and who I am."

"I was afraid of that. It seems we must adjust our course at once. I don’t suppose I could convince you to hide in Haven until this is over?"

I shook my head, tail starting to twitch. "We’re not changing anything. That’s why I called you. I can’t do this alone, but if I’m not, then...I have to. Fate’s counting on me. If we can just save the shards, it’ll be okay. He can have me, then."

Fyren’s eyes narrowed. "That won’t be happening."