The Forsaken Hero

"Hey, Xiv?" Korra’s voice was soft and solemn as she brushed my hair. "I heard about Alex."

My stomach clenched, and I nodded, pulling the comb into a knot. I winced, but she tugged it through without even noticing.

"To think that, after all this time, he still hadn’t forgotten you. That slimy bastard. I wish Luke hadn’t gone so hard on him so that I could get my hands around his neck."

"H-hey, gentle," I protested as she cleared another snarl with an agitated yank.

"Ah, sorry. Keep forgetting how sensitive you are."

"I’m not sensitive. You’re just really strong. Normal people notice if you try to pull their hair out."

"Normal, huh? Been like seven levels since I was a normal person. So, anyway, tell me about you and Luke."

"W-what?" I squeaked, growing red. "There’s, um, nothing to say?"

She snorted. "I’m not blind, Xiviyah. Or deaf, for that matter. Turns out the Fatesworn gossip like barmaids."

I clasped my hands in my lap, keeping my eyes fixed on them. "He...said he loved me."

"I mean, yeah, I already knew that. It’s been a thing for months, right?"

"No, I mean...well, that, too, but..." My voice lowered to a mumble. "It’s different."

"And you?"

My blush darkened to a cherry red. "I-I, I think so, too."

"Then it sounds like it’s a bit more than just something." Her arms slithered around me, clasping beneath my breasts, and she rested her chin on my head. "Gayron still doesn’t believe it. But I guess, maybe, people can change sometimes. But not you. Don’t ever change, alright?"

"Why do you say that?" I asked, leaning against her.

She gave a long sigh, the warmth and playfulness seeping out of her aura. "We killed almost two million demons, Xiv. Million. With barely fifty thousand Fatesworn. Sure, we’ve got heroes and apostles, and skyships, but each of those is a force multiplier, not an excuse. I overheard some officers talking, and we barely lost a couple hundred."

My heart sank. "That many?"

"No, you don’t understand. This is the biggest battle that’s taken place on Enusia since the Descent, maybe ever. Losing only a few hundred unbelievable. Like, I literally can’t believe it. No one can. Not even Bethiv, or the captains." She hugged me a little tighter. "It was all your fault, Xiviyah."

"I just wanted to protect everyone."

"Well, you certainly did that. But people are going to notice, and they’ll notice again when we finally take the Divine Throne."

When, not if. I smiled faintly, amused by her confidence.

"When this war is over, and the demons have returned to their realm, it won’t be forgotten. Humans, beastkin, demons...every kingdom, empire, and power. Wherever your stars shine, victory will follow. So don’t ever change. Stay kind and sweet and gentle. Don’t let the promises and lusts of power and gain ever draw you in. The world has no shortage of tyrants. I much prefer you."

Tears welled in my eyes. Korra had always been so forward with her opinions, but normally that just meant teasing me. I twisted in her arms and hugged her back properly. "How can I, with you here to keep an eye on me? Just don’t leave, okay?"

She chuckled, kissing the top of my head. "Deal. Sorry to ruin the mood and everything. I just thought it was important that you knew."

"Thanks," I whispered, closing my eyes.

She hugged me a while longer before finishing my hair. I dressed in a simple white off-shoulder dress with a blue ribbon sash--chosen by her, of course--and we left the First Light Inn together.

Haven bustled with energy, filling me with a creeping sense of anticipation that wasn’t my own. Remnants were everywhere, gliding through the skies in small groups, or scattered across the islands, mingling with Fatesworn. There were more of those than I remembered, with vast, flat sparring fields, low-ringed mountain valleys for spellcasters, and other various facilities drifting through the stars.

"Another expansion?" I asked no one in particular.

"Yes, my Lady," Haven answered, appearing alongside us. "And Lady Korra, Gayron, and Verity were asking after you. It seems they’re putting together another tournament."

"Already?" Korra rolled her eyes. "We just finished the last one yesterday. Who could have trained so much that the results will be different?"

"Who won?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Me, of course. No, just kidding. It was Gayron this time, but only because R’lissea let him beat us."

My tail went stiff in surprise, and Korra laughed at my reaction.

"You heard me. R’lissea got so strong! Like, scary strong. She killed a demon lord and that traitor apostle, too, remember?" She let out a bitter laugh. "And it took the rest of us working together to kill those other three demon lords. But, anyway, she always pulls back in a fight, letting her enemy gain an edge. Says she just likes watching others grow. It’s so annoying, you know?"

"Wait, you said us?"

"Yeah, Ernyst explained that there was no reason to practice fighting alone right now. It’s all well and good for training techniques and arts and stuff, but in a war, if we’re fighting alone, then we’ll be losing alone. Heroes were always meant to work as a sort of party anyway, clearing gates and coordinating against demon lords. It’s our only advantage against immortals who have been honing their power and skill for a few hundred years. So, that’s the real reason we started having these kinds of battles. A few remnants and the more powerful Fatesworn join in, too, so we fill out the roster. Everyone restricts themselves to sixth-level. R’lissea and I teamed up against Gayron and Grace."

"That sounds..."

"Fun?"

I giggled. "I was going to say ’unfair.’ If all the heroes team up, doesn’t that leave everyone else at a disadvantage?"

"Oh, no, definitely not. Most of the time, the remnants don’t even team up, unless they’re taking the opportunity to train us mortals or something. Jasrin participated, for instance, and R’lissea and I barely managed to beat him together. And I think he just got bored when I kept blocking all of his arrows. R’lissea was able to summon enough elementals, so he eventually surrendered."

"The remnants are that strong?"

She nodded emphatically. "Stronger, especially the higher-ranking ones. The day before, we managed to convince Gathrin to win, and in the finals, he challenged four of us at once and won. And we had Fable on our side!"

"Really?"

"They’re crazy strong. If we could only let them out of Haven to fight with us, we might even stand a chance against Fate himself."

I nodded, choosing to forgo a response. Not because it was a ridiculous idea, but because there was no reason to raise her hopes. I wasn’t strong enough to make that dream a reality. Not yet.

Korra ignored the others’ invitation, and we spent the next few hours traveling through Haven. The Fatesworn had adapted to the endless realm surprisingly quickly, setting up regular travel routes between the most populous islands, as well as between Haven’s Citadel and Starfall Keep. Many had grown strong enough to fly on their own, or were learning to do so from the remnants. Everywhere, they were in high spirits, filled with the victory they had won over the infernal hordes. They greeted us with snappy salutes and cheers, taking the edge off of my sorrow at losing some of them.

"Captain Jackal took part in one of our sparring matches, and he mentioned the Fatesworn will be ready to move soon," Korra said as we neared the end of our rounds, approaching the Heart of Haven.

"Already? But we’ve only just begun to recover."

She shrugged. "This war has dragged on for months already. I imagine they’re feeling restless right now. And every second we’re hesitating gives the church another moment to strike. Sitting still is often the worst thing you can do in war."

I knew from my visions that the church was more than happy to wait. Alex’s ambush had been a wildcard thrown in for both sides, and in the end, it had cost the church yet another hero. With Ronin captured, and the others dead, missing, or defected, only Soltair stood against us. He, the leader of the heroes, now led none but his own shadow. The irony wasn’t lost on me, though I found no joy in it.

"Gayron said Luke has been feeling anxious about moving out, too. Now that the hordes have all assembled from across the land, the only reinforcements pouring in will be in support of the church. We killed a disproportionate amount of powerful evolved demons, from the demon lords themselves to their scouts and mages, so the longer the wait, the worse the engagement is going to be."

When she put it that way, what could I say? That I was still tired? That I was finally at peace with Luke, and wanted to enjoy it a little longer before marching back into the fires of war? Or maybe, somewhere deep inside, a part of me still wondered and feared. If we managed to throw down the church and capture the shards, was Luke still going to leave?