The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 912: Duel of Eras Past

I sat with that for a few seconds, staring at Fable and Sari, but not really seeing them. Finally, I turned to Elise, voice tinged with hope.

"Then what can I do?" I asked, pleading with her, "You were engaged and made friends at the university, right? What other things are there?"

"Well, that’s a little tricky," she said, folding her arms. "Jared and I were in a different place from you two. We were students, for one, so we often studied and practiced together."

"I like to study!" I blurted out.

She raised an eyebrow. "And how about Luke?"

I paused, then slumped, crestfallen. "Not really. He only learned to read well enough to study the spellbooks he needed to break through. And you saw his handwriting. I don’t think he’s even been to a real library before."

"So that’s off the table. What other interests might he have?"

"He likes to spar."

"Does he?"

I frowned, tilting my head. "I think so? He does it all the time..."

"Maybe because he feels he has to. His ambitions are to overthrow the gods themselves. You can’t exactly be a slacker and still dream of that."

"That’s true, but even if he loved it, I can’t exactly spar with him. R’lissea won’t even let me use a third-circle spell yet."

"And for good reason. You need to rest, especially after the stress of that attack. Any other ideas?"

I shook my head, tail drooping. "I can’t think of anything. He’s never talked about himself before like that."

"That’s because you haven’t asked. Jarod never volunteered anything to me on his own, and I suspect most men are like that. You should give him a chance. And maybe it is sparring. At least then you’ll know."

I nodded slowly, tail twitching as I fell into thought. "That wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I could go and watch him in Haven. Then we could talk about it afterwards."

Even if I couldn’t appreciate the fighting, maybe I could at least understand him a little more.

She gave me an encouraging smile. "That’s a good start. But don’t assume just because it’s easy, or else you’ll end up repeating your little tea party all over again, just ending up hot and sweaty instead of with cold tea. And trust me, that’s as far from romantic as you can get."

I stood with a determined look, setting my shoulders toward the other side of the garden, where the Star Guard guarded the open portal to Haven, where Luke and Fyren sparred. Sensing my determination, Fable rose and shook Sari from his tail, padding to my side. She clung to it with both hands, giggling as he dragged her across the soft, summer grass.

"What have you been doing, young lady? You’re practically grown, now. No time to be playing the wolf," Elise said, frowning as she got to her feet. Her hair was tangled and mussy, and long streaks of green marred her white dress.

"Sorry, I just couldn’t help it. Ror and I used to wrestle him all the time," the foxkin said, brushing herself off quickly. She whispered a spell, clearing the grass stains from her dress. Elise arched an eyebrow, and she self-consciously ran a hand through her long brown hair, wincing as her fingers caught in a snarl.

"Fine, I’ll help. Come here," Elise said, relenting with a sigh. She produced a comb from her ring, gesturing at Sari. "The banquets are coming up in a week or two. We’ve got to get you some manners before then."

Sari ran over to her, sitting on the grass between her legs. Elise ran a hand through her hair, lifting a thick lock of brunette and beginning to brush.

"A banquet?" I asked curiously.

"Ah, yes. We received an invitation while you were sleeping last week. It’s the summer solstice next week, and the Ellenwinter House holds an annual celebration. Every noble house, no matter how minor, is invited to send representatives> The invitation for the Sunsinger House specifically included us as delegates of the infernal horde to attend."

"You mean me?" I gasped, pointing at myself.

She smiled faintly. "Yep. Looks like all those dancing lessons you received at the Divine Throne are going to come in handy again."

I stared at her, eyes wide, unconsciously moving back a step. "I...I don’t want to."

"Oh, come on, it won’t be anything like the Divine Throne. And you can bring Luke, too."

My tail stirred, encouraging her grin to widen. I glared at it. Traitor.

"Ask Anryth if you want to brush up on Elvish etiquette," Elise suggested, "meanwhile, I’m going to drill some sense into this little fox. We’ll turn her into a proper lady yet."

Sari gave me a pleading look, but I was helpless enough on my own. I retreated another step, then another, before turning and fleeing, chased by Fable. It was already hard enough to talk to Luke. How was I supposed to do anything now with a banquet looming over my head?

My breathing slowed once I plunged into the gate’s welcoming light, enveloped by the warmth and stars of Haven. The remnants were especially active today, drifting alongside me as I made my way to the arena, where I knew Luke and Fyren to be. Even more surprising was when Arantius himself approached me, materializing so close I jumped into Fable, startled.

"Forgive me, little one, I’m still not used to conversing with mortals. You’re so frail, and easily startled."

He definitely did it on purpose. Ever since he’d saved me from Rash’alon’s demons, he’d been getting more and more familiar. But to think he’d reached the level of teasing...?

I gave him an accusing glare, but he just chuckled, returning a bemused grin.

"What is it?" I asked, letting out a resigned sigh. "Why is everyone so excited today? I must have been greeted by twenty of you so far."

"Ah, that. Well, you see, the demon finally accepted a challenge from Ernyst. It might be the most exciting thing to happen here since you brought that dragon in."

"Fyren’s fighting a remnant? But...why?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No idea, you’ll have to ask him. I’m planning on watching myself. Would you care to join me?"

I nodded, accepting his hand as he offered it. The world blurred, flipping my stomach around and causing bile to rise in my throat. As my vision cleared, we stood on the edge of the arena, surrounded by towering cliffs. They loomed tall and intimidating, like prison walls. I took an instinctive step closer to Arantius, gripping his hand a little tighter.

He glanced down at me, tilting his head slightly. Realizing what I’d done, I quickly released him, tail twitching with an audible swish.

"S-sorry," I mumbled, clutching my skirt instead.

About us, dozens of remnants floated around the sandy circle that formed the arena floor. I found Luke at the very edge and hurried to his side.

"Xiviyah?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed me. "What are you doing here?"

"I, well..." my cheeks, still a little pink, warmed even more, and I picked at my sleeve, not quite meeting his gaze.

"We came to watch the demon," Arantius said behind me.

I jumped with a small, startled squeak, whirling to see the remnant had followed behind me. He hovered a few inches off the ground with his arms crossed, wearing an amused smile.

"Xiviyah, you seem a little...jumpy. Did something happen?" Luke asked, frowning in concern.

"N-no..." I gripped my skirt helplessly. How was I supposed to ask Luke anything now?

His nod was slow, and I shivered as he stood a little closer. The twitch of his hand raised my hopes, but they died as it ceased its movement, never grasping for mine.

Across the arena, Fyren stood with his arms folded, his massive fiery blade sword driven point-first into the ground. He eyed me with a hint of curiosity, but his gaze didn’t linger, turning to the remnant across from him. Ernyst, the master of the arena himself, hovered a foot in the air, his slender sword held out to the side.

"I’ve longed to test you for some time now. What kind of demon are you, to earn the regard of our goddess?" Ernyst asked, his voice ringing off the cliffs.

Fyren rested his palm on the pommel of his sword, then ran his hand down the long, two-handed hilt. His fingers came to rest near the cross-guard, taking it into his grip. He hefted it with an effortless swing, bringing it up to point at the remnant.

"Then come, remnant. It’s been a while since I’ve crossed blades with someone of your era. Don’t disappoint me."

Ernyst moved instantly, materializing behind Fyren with his sword descending in a vicious arc. But Fyren had already responded, pivoting on his heel so quickly I couldn’t tell whether he’d moved before the remnant had. His sword rose and met Enryst’s, releasing a violent screech as they slid past one another, perfectly parried.

Luke’s arm pressed against my shoulder, and when I looked up, he seemed confused. It was I who had stumbled against him. But I didn’t draw away. It was simply too scary. I couldn’t sense anything from their souls, nor draw the slightest hint of what attack they might use next. Such perception had been my only defense against inquisitors, demons, and monsters before, because even if I couldn’t react fast enough to their movements, at least I could see when those movements would happen, and how strong they would be.

But there was nothing from Fyren and Ernyst. The feeling of dread grew as the battle dragged across the seconds, their swords visible only whenever they clashed, and for a fraction of a second at that. I couldn’t predict a single one, and had I been their opponent, casting even a first-circle spell in response would have been impossible.

But how could there be no tells at all? How much practice and experience did these two have to obscure even that which none by a handful in existence could ever see?