The Forsaken Hero

Chapter 1131: Familiar Paths

Jasrin offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. "We’ve been here long enough, Xiv– you don’t mind if I call you that, do you?"

I shook my head, a small, timid smile gracing my face. "It’s alright. But, um, it’s almost night, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we rest and then--"

"I’ve only got a few hours before I’m released back to Haven. If we don’t get you on your way, I’m worried you won’t find it on your own. Besides, traveling at night is safer, even if you’re tired. Do we have a destination?

"I need to find Luke. Or Korra."

He rubbed his chin. "Won’t be easy. We can’t use fate to lock on to their souls, like I normally would, and unless we stumble across traces of their mana, finding them through traditional tracking will be impossible."

"I have this," I said, lifting the ring around my neck.

He scrutinized it, then shook his head. "The bond’s dead."

It slipped from my fingers, leaving an ache where it came to rest against my chest. I sniffled, my eyes growing wet again.

"Is there any place the church doesn’t have control over on the southern continent?" he asked hurriedly, before I could cry.

I considered the question for a long moment. "No. We have lots of allies on the northern continent, but here...we’re alone. If only we could..."

I trailed off, pursing my lips slightly. Refuge?

"What? If only we could ’what?’"

"Just...something Fate said. I-I think she saw something like this happening."

"Could be. She’s mysterious, even to us. Do you remember what she said?"

"That if we had to flee, I had to go to the place I’d once fled from."

"And that is...?"

"The Divine Throne, maybe? But that doesn’t make any sense."

"You didn’t flee from there. You were taken, no?"

My face fell. "Oh."

"How about any of the other villages you traveled through with the hero?"

Morosely, I shook my head. Never once had Soltair, Trithe, and I run from a fight. Even against the dragon, it escaped from us, not the other way around.

"Wait," I said, my heart skipping a beat. My hands trembled. "There was one place."

"Great! Where is it? Fate might be cryptic, but she’s never wrong."

"High Valley."

Fable growled at the mention, his claws sinking into the rime.

"I’m going to guess that’s not a pleasant place," Jasrin said, glancing at him.

I shook my head, gripping the hem of my skirt. "N-no, it’s...fine. It doesn’t really, um, exist. There’s just...memories."

"Very well. Let us be off, then."

I was grateful he didn’t press me further, but I still squeaked as he picked me up by the waist and effortlessly set me on Fable’s back. He snapped his fingers, and a light green mist rolled out from him, drawing on my mana. It mixed with the gold of my aura and, to my astonishment, both melted away. I could still feel it swirling around me, entwining with the local weave of fate, but it was invisible, the familiar warmth against my skin gone.

"That should hide us against his minions, but if the bastard himself gets close, he’ll see right through it," Jasrin said.

We set off again, the remnant flying directly beside Fable as he loped across the rolling farms and hills. We skirted several villages, heading ever west. I didn’t know more than that, only that Soltair had led our first journey to the western border. High Valley was somewhere between the Divine Throne and Western University.

As the hours passed, the sun slipped beneath the horizon. The land began to slope upward, and mountains rose in the distance. More than once, mounted patrols of soldiers passed by, but we stayed away from the roads and byways, traveling through dried river beds and thickets of trees wherever possible.

As we entered a small, shallow valley between two rugged hills, Jasrin darted at me. I flinched as he plucked me off Fable’s back, hissing to be quiet. His magic blossomed around us, and saplings sprouted from the rocky soil. In the space of a single, panicked breath, they’d grown into stout pine trees, with wide boughs of dull green needles. Fable curled up around the base of the biggest tree, while Jasrin held me close beneath another. Little pockets of the night sky pocked through, riddled with starlight.

A black shape passed overhead, and then another, and another. Eagle-like screeches tore through the silence, making me jump. Jasrin’s hand rose, covering my mouth.

"Shhh, let them pass," he hissed.

I nodded, wide-eyed, as more griffons flew overhead. There must have been a dozen of them, flying in a loose formation.

"They were at the battle?" he whispered.

Again, I nodded, unwilling to mumble into his hand. He seemed to get the gist of it.

"Sky troops make this even more difficult. This gets better and better."

I started to nod, only to realize the lack of sarcasm in his voice. Was that...excitement?

After a few seconds, the screeches faded, and I sagged. Jasrin placed me on Fable again.

"How did you know they were coming?" I asked.

"I didn’t use fate magic, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s more like intuition, though you might call it an ability or something trivial like that." He made a face, showing me exactly what he thought of that notion.

We set off again, but the further we got from Roann, the more soldiers we came across. They wore different colors and sigils.

"This is good," he muttered to himself as we hid from Griffons for the third time. "The more there are, the closer we get to their strongholds.

"Isn’t that a bad thing?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Maybe if we were just on the run, but you said High Valley was close to the border, right? That demon mentioned the borders were heavily defended to keep the other hordes from assisting the Curse Apostle, which means they have massive concentrations of troops."

I gasped softly. "We must be close!"

"I hope so," he said, shrugging, a sheepish look on his face. "I don’t have much longer."

I gripped his sleeve. "You’re not going to leave me, are you?"

"We’ll see."

That fear weighed on me as we set off again. By midnight, we had reached the beginnings of the mountains and passed by a major city that looked vaguely familiar. The air turned wet and heavy, with a faint musk. When Fable’s paws sank an extra few inches, crunching through a thin layer of ice and splashing wetly, I brightened.

"You know this place?"

"Viriden City, I think. It’s where we went to teleport to Brithlite! They gave me my cloak, and..." I shook my head, dismissing the memories. "High Valley should be on the other side of this swamp!"

The shadows obscured the marshes, making the shallow pools of fetid water and sandy banks of earth look the same. Frost crept across the yellow reeds and grasses. They cracked like dry straw beneath Fable’s paws. Occasionally, Fable’s paws sank a foot or two into the ground, and a spray of water pattered against my wards. It carried the chill of winter, misting around us, enshrouding us in fog.

For some reason, Jasrin joined the wolf on the ground, stalking through the swamp with his bow in hand. His gait was strange and swaying, like a snake slithering through grass, and yet his footfalls were completely silent. Not even the rustle of grass or the crunch of frost betrayed his movements.

The night was late, and after the battle, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The rhythmic roll of Fable’s shoulders beneath me, combined with his warm, soft fur, lulled me into restless dozing. Only Jasrin’s constant drain on my mana and the fear of slipping into a vision kept me from passing out altogether.

It had taken us a few days by carriage to travel from High Valley to Viriden City, but at our pace, we cleared the massive swamp in less than an hour. I raised my head, groggy and yawning, as the movements shifted. The swamp fell away, the terrain rising dramatically into the foothills.

As we crested a small ridge, Jasrin held up his hand, stopping us. He created another grove of trees, and we lay low for a few minutes as another griffon patrol flew overhead.

"Why are there so many of them?" I asked, peering up through the pines as the dark shapes passed.

Jasrin shrugged. "Who knows? But they sure are annoying. We managed to evade most of the ground troops, but there’s nothing we can do but hide from the aerial ones. Still, it makes a nice challenge, right? Too bad they don’t know the land well enough to pick out that these trees aren’t even a species from Enusia. The shape of the needles should have given us away by now. Pathetic."

I sighed, rubbing my horn. It was midnight, and they were hundreds of feet overhead. And it was snowing. How could anyone be expected to notice the shape of a few pine needles?

As Fable rose, preparing to head off again, he caught his fur with a hand.

"Hold it. I’m picking up a large group of souls ahead." His brow furrowed. "And fate magic. Lots of Fate magic."