The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 701: The Last Light Estate

R’lissea rose and brushed the dirt from her dress. She smiled softly and offered me a hand. Tentatively, I took it, leaning on her after she helped me to my feet. She tried to nudge me away, but I clung to her arm, tears lingering in my eyes.

"What did I do wrong?" I whispered. "Why did he leave me?"

She was quiet for a long, long time. Finally, she sighed.

"What is the Descent?"

Her question surprised me, and I looked up, meeting her gaze.

"It’s...um...the beginning of the end. It’s when the infernal hordes have acquired enough power to send Demon Lords through gates. There will be many seventh and eighth level gates, bringing tens of thousands of demons to Enusia."

"So the Descent is the name given to the first gate to carry a demon Lord?" she asked.

I nodded, and R’lissea pursed her lips.

"Do you remember when we got separated at Tormod’s Breach?"

I shivered, unconsciously touching my throat. "T-that was different. You were being threatened, and I...I trusted you. Luke was serious. I know his soul. He had to choose between me and his sister, and he chose her. I-I can’t blame him, it just..." I sniffled. "It hurts. I don’t know why. But it hurts."

"Maybe he thinks he chose both," she murmured. Her eyes lit up, and I felt her pulse quicken. "What if he’s trying to protect the one he found and avenge that which he lost?"

She spoke to herself, under her breath. But that didn’t change what she said to make any sense. Whatever she thought she realized couldn’t be right. Luke had just done what he always told me he would. It was my fault for not believing him.

"I’m sorry," I said, wilting. "I...shouldn’t have doubted you. I’m just...so tired, and cold."

She embraced me. "I know. You’re hurt and lonely. But you don’t have to be. Elise and I are here for you. And so is Fyren, I think." Suddenly, her face paled. "Oh no. He’s going to kill me."

Before I could ask what she meant, I felt an infernal presence approaching and quickly recognized it as Fyren. It wasn’t coming from the street, but...above us?

I looked up just in time to see a fiery meteor descend into the city, crashing into the street just a dozen feet away. Screams broke out as chunks of burning obsidian were thrown in all directions. A miniature shockwave struck the ground in Fyren’s wake, knocking dozens of people to the ground. R’lissea raised her hand and soulcast a barrier, breaking the wave like a rock in the surf.

Fyren emerged from the crater with his sword drawn. Flames flickered around his body, his armor glowing with molten light. His eyes locked onto me, the solid red of his demon form, not his human. In a blink, he stood before us, surveying the city.

"What happened? I sensed...something," he asked roughly.

R’lissea flinched. "It was my fault. I didn’t realize how unstable she was and accidentally provoked–"

"It was a simple plan," Fyren growled. "You were to remain at the inn until I returned. She was safe there. You just lit a beacon that anyone within a hundred miles with half a soul could feel."

Fyren shoved his sword in its sheathe, his aura slowly fading. He glanced at people around us, all petrified with fear, and the infernal glow left his eyes.

"As for you..." The demon turned to me, leaning over to better look me in the eye.

"I’m sorry," I squeaked, shrinking against R’lissea. I couldn’t meet his eyes, so I hid my face against R’lissea’s dress.

"Calm down, Xiviyah. I’m not going to scold you. But your soul is a little vulnerable right now. Would you please conceal it a bit?"

I peeked out and found all signs of anger gone. His face was gentle and firm, like it always was.

"I-I can’t," I stammered, touching my chest self-consciously. "It’s not listening."

I knew exactly what he was talking about. The starlight emanating from my skin was brighter than before, standing out even beneath the noonday sun. I tried willing it back into my soul, but the Oracle of Eternity refused to cooperate. Where it normally responded like an extension of my body, this was like trying to move my hair with a thought, instead of an arm.

"Well, I think it’s beautiful. It makes your hair and skin glow," R’lissea said.

"That’s the problem. The stench of her divinity is almost overwhelming from this distance," Fyren said.

He reached out and touched my cheek. I flinched at the feel of his hot metal gauntlet. He grimaced.

"Damn it," he muttered, recoiling. "Are you really fine?"

I shook my head, but R’lissea nodded.

"That’s not the kind of ’fine’ he meant, Xiv," she said with a wry smile.

"Oh." I flushed slightly. "I don’t hurt anywhere...except here."

I touched my chest again, fingers warm over my heart."

Fyren clocked his head. "Your chest is hurting? Did you damage a rib?"

"Demons," R’lissea muttered, shaking her head.

"N-no, it was Luke," I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut. "He...left."

Fyren snorted. "Good. I was afraid he didn’t understand the situation. He’s got a good head on his shoulders."

I teared up, biting my lip. R’lissea held me tighter and glared at the demon.

"Really? How could you say that right now?" she asked.

He shrugged. "The Descent is a dangerous time for any demon, much less someone untried like the Apostles. Even for me, if I hadn’t tied myself to the devoted, I might find myself with a new mark."

R’lissea gasped. "Wait, so you think so, too?"

"Isn’t it obvious?"

"Is what obvious?" I burst out, choking back another sob. "Why are you both so certain Luke hated me? Why else would he...he..." I stiffened, tears forgotten. "Is this about Rash, um, a... Along?"

"Rash along?" R’lissea tilted her head.

Fyren stiffened. ""Where did you hear that? No, never mind. That’s not a conversation you’re permitted to have."

He looked around, frowning at the small crowd gathered around us.

"Now’s not the time nor place to discuss something like this. Let’s get you out of the street before someone decides to check out your aura."

With that, he motioned to Fable, who promptly headbutted gently, prodding me onto his back. R’lissea hopped on behind me, lacing her hands about my waist. Fable’s muscles coiled beneath us, preparing to launch him into the air.

"Wait," R’lissea said.

She cast a fifth-circle spell, sending a flood of life magic toward the crater. Rocks, dust, and debris flooded back in reverse motion, finding their place within the crater. In seconds, the street was as it had been before Fyren’s appearance, save a few scorch marks.

Fyren rolled his eyes. "Someone would have taken care of it. There’s an entire market around repairing damage left by high-level ouls. "

She frowned at him. "That doesn’t mean it’s polite. We’ve scared the people here enough already, and I–"

Her breath caught. I turned, finding her eyes glazed with stars. Several slender tendrils of the starry mist around me had wrapped around her soul.

"What’s happening? " I asked, frantically patting her cheek. "Please, speak to me!"

The stars retreated a heartbeat after they grabbed her. She slumped, blinking rapidly, clearing the stars from her irises.

"What...what happened?" she asked, touching her forehead. "I just...there was a battle, and I–"

"That’s enough. We’re going. Now," Fyren said.

He kicked off the ground, sailing over two levels of the spire. Fable followed him. I screamed, hanging on for dear life as we arched over the city. So much of the damage had disappeared from the street view, yet from above, the scars of war were ever were. Titanic lines and craters dotted the landscape, with entire city blocks replaced by charred ruins.

Before I knew it, we were standing at the gate of a small manor. The grounds were large and spacious, with fountains, gardens, and small groves of trees. The outer gate was guarded by a third-level soldier, fully kitted in magical gear. Two blazing runes had been branded into the gate, declaring the family.

"Final and Sun?" I asked, tilting my head. Then, my eyes widened. "Lastlight! Is this place for Elise?"

The guard was stiff and nervous looking, his eyes darting from Fyren’s bulk to Fable’s size, yet he saluted sharply.

"Welcome to the Lastlight Estate. The Lady is waiting for you," he said in a voice that was a pitch too high.

Fyren ignored him and strode forward, nearly trampling through the gate before the guard to open it in time. R’lissea and I gave him apologetic smiles as we passed. For some reason, he blushed.

"It’s beautiful," I said, looking around the gardens.

The flowers were still budding, it being early spring, but there were many of them. A few stone benches reminded me of the gardens that used to sit atop the spire. My smile faded, and my fingers curled into Fable’s fur. I didn’t want to think about that or who I’d been with there. It had all been a lie.

The manor itself was enough to distract me from those thoughts. The architecture was vastly different from that of the mansions of Radia and Brithlite, lacking the blocky shape that was all too similar to the slave warehouses. Instead, it was graceful and flowing, like a small, humble castle. Various buildings and towers extended off into the gardens, creating three main wings. With the forest and walls isolating us, the estate felt more like some noble’s summer retreat out in the countryside than in the middle of the city.

The guard closed the gate and raced ahead, saluting again as we approached the main doors. I took a deep breath and entered, ready to see what kind of noble Elise had become.