The Forsaken Hero

Fyren grinned at my shock. "I helped kill it, of course. It’s only natural I absorb something of its soul."

"But that’s...Connor took it," I said.

He shrugged. "Not fast enough. I was with Elaine when she struck it down and followed its corpse into the city below. I’m afraid things happened quickly after that, so I only got a portion, but I can’t say the gains aren’t worthwhile."

"So you can regenerate now?" R’lissea asked.

"To some degree. Demons gain new abilities through consuming creatures stronger than themselves, but it’s more like acquiring blueprints. The efficacy of the ability relies heavily on the demon’s power level and skill at using its mana."

"So you can improve it," I said.

"It’s rare for a demon to surpass the original owner of an ability, especially one of such great magnitude as a ninth-level dragon. I will, however, have an eternity to try. Right now, I can recover from almost any nonmortal wounds in a few minutes."

"That’s as fast as Faber," I said.

Fyren chuckled. "Not quite, but perhaps, one day, I can match him."

I turned to look up at the massive wolf towering over us. His tail twitched slightly, generating a stiff breeze over the hillside. If Fyren could regenerate wounds in a few minutes, how strong was Fable? I dimly recalled him healing from the dragon’s attacks, but I’d had so many visions determining which memory was actually reliable was close to impossible.

"What about the curse tornado?" Elise asked, "How did you survive the at? I know your eighth level, but you took it head-on."