The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 1010: Uncertain Legacy

Connor was quiet for a long time, staring at me, or perhaps through me. But my tears were gone, my tail still. I rested confidently in Luke’s arms. No matter what Connor said, how he chose to argue, I was content. I’d found the answer.

"It’s too late for me," he finally said, surprising me with the heaviness of his words.

I nodded. "It is."

Finally, I allowed Luke to guide me back. R’lissea watched me for a few seconds before nodding. I nodded back, and she strode in front of Connor.

"Xiviyah’s right. You don’t deserve to be free of the cycle."

I winced, biting my lip. That wasn’t what I’d argued at all.

Connor nodded, staring at the ground. There was no sign of the domineering hero who had made kingdoms tremble. Just a sad, broken man. But I had no pity for him.

"I think there’s no more fitting punishment for your crimes than being forced to atone for them," R’lissea continued. "If not in this life, then the next, and the next, and then next. One day, somehow, you’ll make amends. One day, you’ll wake up in a world that deserves you. But not this world. In this world, you’ll always be a monster."

R’lissea raised her staff, casting a spell I didn’t recognize. A soft, pale radiance seeped from the ground beneath Connor’s feet. It climbed his legs like ivy, growing from the ash and consuming the last remnants of the black mist. It was the color of dawn, of spring, of flowers. The color of life.

He didn’t struggle. He watched the light rise, giving Fyren one last yearning look, before his expression stilled. He took a deep breath, letting his scythe drop to the ground. I cringed, waiting for the sharp clatter amid the solemn silence, but it never came. Grass had sprouted beneath his feet, cushioning the fall. The verdance spread, creeping across the exposed throne room, consuming it as the city above.

As the light enveloped him, Connor gave me one last look. In his eyes, I saw fear, and again, I recognized it. It wasn’t the fear I held of chains or inquisitors, not fear of death or despair. But the fear I felt the day Luke promised to be with me. The fear that only vanished when first I kissed him back. The fear of the unknown. Perhaps, for the first time, Connor had that fear. But with that fear came hope. I could only pray that one day he would see it.

I turned away, unable to watch as R’lissea’s magic consumed him. Luke sheltered me, stroking my back. Listening to the hum of magic, I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing down my cheek.

Too soon, the noise faded. The silence that followed was suffocating. Nothing stirred in the city or beyond, the last echoes of the battle swallowed by the ash of Ebber’eve.

With a soft hiss, the black mist began to dissipate, evaporating from the crater. In seconds, all that remained was the soft gold curls of my aura and the lingering wisps of life magic from R’lissea’s spell. I raised my head, finally looking back.

Connor was gone. In his place stood a young sapling, nothing like the half-grown trees that had sprung up throughout the city at R’lissea’s command. It barely reached my height, with a slender trunk the color of deep granite and leaves as white as bone. Connor’s sythe lay at its roots, abandoned on the ground beside the trunk, its curved blade still seeming to drink in the light even without the hero’s touch.

R’lissea sank to her knees, picking the weapon up with trembling hands. Her shoulders shook as she bowed her head, gently weeping. Korra laid a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t speak. Like me, she probably had no words to say.

"That was too easy. Too painless," Gayron muttered, under no such constraint.

"That’s what heroes do, Gayron," Korra whispered, her gaze fixed on the white-leafed sapling. "True heroes. Not like Connor, or Soltair. We do what’s right."

"You still killed him," he pointed out.

She turned, staring at him until he squirmed. "Who’s to say killing isn’t the right thing? I’d kill every inquisitor if I could. At some point, it’s crueler to let them live, to let them hurt even more people."

I nodded, letting out a long, heavy sigh. Luke rubbed my arm, hugging me against him. I closed my eyes, only to open them as I felt my aura stir. Around us, the world brightened, the black mist slowly dissolving, evaporating into nothingness. The crater lightened, our field of view expanding as much as the settling dust and ash allowed. A faint glow came through the gloom above, the sun’s rays finally filtering into the depths. For the first time, the white-leafed tree bathed in light.

"Fyren, would you tell the others it’s done?" I asked softly.

"Already finished. What further orders do you have?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know. Whatever you think is best."

As I felt his soul spread across the mark, R’lissea stirred, looking up at the tree. She rose slowly, holding the scythe limply in her hands.

"Are you going to be alright?" I asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. "I just...I didn’t think it would be like this."

"What? Your vengeance? Do you not feel vindicated?" Luke asked.

"I...no. I just feel empty. Sad," she whispered.

Luke frowned, his tail twitching, but he didn’t respond.

"What do we do now?" she asked, turning to face us. "So many are dead. From the demons, the Risen....the elvish generals estimated as close to ninety percent of the human population of the land south of Blacksand are just...gone.

"I think this is a good start," Korra said, nodding at the tree. "Where there was death, there can be life. That’s the cycle you fought for, remember?"

"That’s right. But next, I...I suppose I should thank you. All of you," R’lissea said, giving us a faint smile. "I never could have done this without you. Especially you, Xiviyah." She bowed her head. "I’ll fight with you to the ends of the world if you’ll have me."

I shared a look with Luke and smiled back at her. "I’d love that. I couldn’t imagine going to the southern continent without you."

"And me," Korra said, frowning.

"I thought that was a given."

"Good." She nodded firmly. "Just so long as you know."

R’lissea’s gaze drifted from Korra to Fyren, then back to Connor’s scythe.

"What are you going to do with it?" I asked.

"I can’t imagine any good would come from it," she murmured, running her thumb along the blade. "At some point, someone’s going to find it and use its power. Tomorrow, or a thousand years from now, it could fall into the wrong hands and unleash Risen on Enusia again."

"I could take it," I said, "Place it in Haven."

She turned to me, brightening. "You would do that for me?"

I nodded. "I couldn’t imagine a more secure place. As long as I live, none will be able to steal it. And if I died, well...you wouldn’t ever have to worry about it again."

She thought about it for a few seconds before nodding. "I was afraid I was going to have to entrust it to Aerion."

"At that point, you might as well raise a few Risen yourself," Korra said, chuckling. "No way he wouldn’t leverage its power the instant we look away."

R’lissea giggled, the lines of worry on her face finally easing. "My thoughts exactly. Here," she started to hand the scythe to me, then froze. "Ah, right. Probably shouldn’t let you hold it."

I squirmed out of Luke’s arms, summoning my staff and opening a gate. "Here. Go straight to Fate. Don’t let any of the remnants try to take it from you. I can only imagine they’ll try," I muttered.

She gave me a grateful smile and stepped into Haven. I let the portal swirl close. It wasn’t as if she would take long, but I knew she needed some time alone, some time to rest and think. Haven would give her the perfect chance.

"Seriously, though," Korra said once she was gone. "What are we supposed to do next?"

"Head back to Syblarus?" I asked. "Elise is waiting for us."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. But what about the armies? I assume Aerion’s going to want to have a ceremony or something?"

I groaned, rubbing my horn. "I hope not. I’ve had enough being paraded around for a lifetime. I should ask Emlica how she makes clones of herself. Then I wouldn’t have to attend anything again."

"What about dances?" Luke asked, grinning as I stiffened.

"Well, um, those aren’t so bad," I admitted, blushing slightly. "I wouldn’t mind going to a few of those."

"Xiviyah," Fyren said, gently breaking in. "Incinderus and Commander Bethiv have set up camp outside the crater. I think it would be best if we join them."

"We should go," Luke said. "There will be wounded you’ll want to tend to. And they’ll need your approval to begin withdrawing from Ornth."

"Ornth? Will it still be called that?" I wondered aloud.

"I suppose that depends on what Aerion plans to do with it. Sylvarus is the only power remaining in this part of the world. If I were him, I’d annex it all. It’s not like there’s anyone left to protest," Luke said.

"Only the refugees that managed to flee in time," Korra said. "I bet he’ll sponsor their return. Or perhaps you’re right, and he’s going to annex them. Sylvarus could be a nation of more than just elves after this."

"Decisions for later, and for another’s mind," Fyren said.

"Right." I turned to Luke, holding out my hands. "It should be light enough now, right?"

He chuckled and picked me up in a bridal carry. "Let’s find out."

I hugged his neck, looking down as we flew into the air, taking one last look at the sapling.

"Good luck," I whispered.

I didn’t look back again.