The Forsaken Hero

A single remnant waited for us at the Heart of Haven. Arantius drifted a few feet off the ground, his arms folded, a solemn look on his face. His expression didn’t change when he saw us, but he did touch down, looking us over as we reached the island.

"Arantius? What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised to see him away from the cathedral.

"I’ve come to bring you a warning, Oracle," he said, glancing at Korra. "Privately."

"I was just going to find Gayron. Maybe that fight’s still going on," Korra said, patting my shoulder. "I’ll see you later."

She kicked off the ground, tousling my hair in the wind as she flew away. I smoothed a few wandering ribbons behind my ears, my tail twitching nervously.

"What is it?" I asked, clasping my hands together. "Why couldn’t you call me through Haven?"

He looked at me for a long time. The swish of my tail grew audible.

"You are a child of Oblivion."

My chest tightened. "W-What? I’m not--"

"Deny it as you may, you stand at the end of the path fate has led you. It is too late for you to turn away now, and thus I am free to speak of it. You know what I speak of."

I wanted to shake my head and deny it, but the small ribbons of darkness woven throughout my soul seemed to grow colder, matching the warmth of Luke pulsing in my chest.

"It was supposed to go away," I whispered, gripping the hem of my skirt. "Luke got better! I thought...I thought I did too..."

His expression softened a touch, from granite to sandstone. "The darkness within you did not originate from the edge of eternity. No, the seeds were sewn long before that."

"It’s not possible," I whispered, pressing a hand to my chest. "My soul is woven of fate, not oblivion. They’re opposites. The Divinity–"

"Is an influence--nothing more. Raw elemental forces, especially ones as abstract as fate and oblivion, are too volatile and abstract for mortals to assimilate. But your soul is caught between the light and darkness, in a state of delicate balance. Too much from either side, and your soul would unravel from forces it simply can’t comprehend.

"But how...? The Divinity draws me to fate, but..."

Assimilate. But why had Arantius used that word? Didn’t it only apply to demons?

"I see you’re beginning to understand. There is no fundamental difference between the souls of mortals and immortals, save for one is subject to the Cycle of Eternity. Without the cleansing power of that cycle, Demons are warped and twisted by the power they’re sworn to. Their souls are in a state of constant hemorrhage and require a continual stream of mana to sustain; else they lose all that they are. You are experiencing the thresholds of that chaos."

"You mean a mortal like me was never meant to carry a divinity."

"None of us could have predicted the results, not even Fate, but it seems to be inevitable."

"So why am I still me? The Divinity is like the sun compared to the small star of my soul. It should have overwhelmed it right away, as it has for all the Fatesworn. Over half of them are full-fledged fate demons now, and they’re just getting that power second-hand from me."

"They are bound to you, and you to them."

I opened my mouth to protest, to explain how little cryptic statements like that helped, when I paused. A thought crossed my mind, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Fyren..." I whispered.

"Yes, the Oblivion Demon. Haven’t you wondered why the Primordial Mark has had no effect on him?"

"He said it might take longer, because he was...special."

"Longer?" Arantius actually laughed. "Even the demon lords of this realm have begun emitting starlight. If your pull was strong enough to sway the oblivion demon, it would have shown itself by now."

"But how could he...oh. You’re saying he’s pulling on me. That’s what he was talking about with Fate earlier, before she saw us."

"You understand now."

"Connor and R’lissea’s magic tore each other apart. I don’t feel that war inside me."

"Come and see," he said, staring at me intently.

Haven shifted, the ground falling out beneath my feet. When the world cleared, we were standing far beneath the citadel, in the chamber of the beginning. The three murals, one for each era of the gods, spread before us. The colors were as vibrant as before, the images so real I felt like I could stretch out and touch them.

I did, my hand resting on the portrayal of the Father. The one whose eyes seemed to find me no matter what angle I looked at it from.

Arantius stood over me. He took my hand, swallowing my delicate fingers in his huge gauntlet. I flinched, but he was warm and sure, guiding my hand up to the wings of souls spreading from the Father’s back.

"Here," he said reverently.

When he removed my hand, I was touching two spirits, entwined together. I knew Fate at once, but the other I’d never seen before. Well, I’d technically seen it, but never noticed it. It was as black as the endless void behind the Father, visible only because of the faint reflection of Fate’s light across its edges. A shadow of the stars.

"Fate and Oblivion could do nothing alone. There is no beginning without an end, and no ending without a beginning. Together, they held the Father’s sacred power of creation. This power wrought the beginning of the Divine Cycle, and in the end, it forced them apart. For neither God nor Emperor could accept that they were joined, and the one side maintained their strength. The demon said as much to you before."

I shook my head. "Only that the gods would fear them if they worked together. But I didn’t think they meant something like this! The whole cycle?"

He nodded. "That was eons ago, but yes."

"How could you know all this? You seem like you knew Fyren was an oblivion demon, but the other remnants haven’t said anything at all."

His gaze drifted to the painting in the center of the room, in the endless war between gods and emperors over the immortal souls of what would become mortals and demons. I gasped softly, covering my mouth.

"You knew him?"

Arantius nodded slowly, finding the small, almost fragile soul hiding in Fate’s wings mid-battle. Fate and Oblivion’s wings, as I looked closely. He was there, too. I hadn’t noticed just how strange her position was before, but now it made perfect sense. She wasn’t fighting alone; someone was by her side, supporting her. From this one single image, I could see the trust in her expression, the faith with which she gave herself to the shadowy being.

All those times Fate had looked sadly at these pictures, was all that sorrow really just for the Father?

"You’re not a fate hero," I said, looking up at Arantius. "You’re a...what?"

He shrugged. "It’s never been given a name. Or if it was, I don’t remember."

"That’s how you can erase souls!" I said, gasping aloud. "Like the demons that entered Haven on the Arboreal Plains!"

"I inherited the powers of Oblivion just as I did Fate. Just like you have."

"I still don’t understand," I said, clasping my arm, staring at the pictures. "How can Fyren balance out a Divinity? He doesn’t seem that powerful, but... Is it because it’s only partially awake? What happens if I break into the ninth level?"

Suddenly, Fyren’s concern felt a lot more real. He had been single-handedly balancing out the power of a literal god raging within my soul. The divinity poured power into my soul according to my own strength. Fyren had always been stronger, but after the power I had absorbed, manipulating reality itself, my own soul must have surpassed his in sheer mana. That was why the cracks had only just begun to show, because fate was beginning to displace the oblivion. What would happen if I pushed into ninth, and doubled, or tripled my mana through the realm’s inheritance, while he remained in eighth?

"Thus, the reason for my warning," Arantius said. "I was forged of the two, and they have achieved harmony within me. Unfortunately, your power has been thrust upon you, a burden no mortal could ever hope to bear."

"I just have to give it up, right? When this war is over, and Fate and Magic can begin their plans to rewrite the cycle, she’ll take it back, won’t she? I mean, we’ll defeat the god of fate, so surely, she’ll have to..." I trailed off, biting my lip. Would she? Fate seemed perfectly content and capable without this power. And if she had it, the gods would put another target on her.

"Perhaps. There are some things I cannot speak of. But there is another alternative, the same step that I took, as has every remnant after me."

My breath caught. The one thing I had lived in fear of for over a year now, the one reason I had never fully been able to feel at peace. And yet, at the same time, nothing I had ever truly considered. No, it never even entered my thoughts until now.

"Ascension. Should you ascend beyond the mortal realm, your soul shall gain the strength to withstand the corruption of both Fate and Oblivion. What’s more, you will have cast aside the mortal bonds of both body and soul. In other words, you will be freed from the final shackle of your past. Ascend, and you will break the Sun God’s curse."