The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 953: A Realm Above

The Azure Wing cut across the city, flying smoothly through the airspace controlled by the Shining Aegis. Our entire team had assembled on its deck, waiting at the prow as we neared the edge of the barrier. Ripples of mana rolled across the golden dome, vast as oceans, marking the conflict beyond. Even filtered through my magic, they made my horns itch.

"Why couldn’t we just fly?" Korra complained, crossing her arms impatiently.

Gayron rolled his eyes. "Because you’d killed the instant you walk into the crossfire. Haven’t you been listening to Luke this whole time?"

With my resistance, it was doubtful anyone would take fatal damage, but I agreed with the sentiment. And he was right about Luke, too. His thoughts were a constant mumble in the nexus, growing louder and more coherent as we crossed the miles between us. Most extraordinary was an emotion I’d rarely felt from him: panic. It was imbued in every thought, as if his very life itself was threatened moment to moment. I had glimpses of their fight through Fable’s eyes, who had arrived some minutes earlier, and knew that was probably true.

"Don’t be so eager to meet an arbiter in battle. You have even less of a chance of surviving the encounter than you have of landing a single hit on me, hero," Fyren said.

"I’m not that weak," she muttered, a defeated look on her face.

"I hope Selena’s alright," R’lissea said, looking ahead, absently chewing on a strand of hair. "She doesn’t have any ninth-level spells. I can only imagine how many arbiters accrued over eternity."

"Not as many as you might think. Once you transcend immortality, time...changes," Fyren mused, rubbing his chin. "Strength becomes less significant, and the push for growth greatly slows. Most immortals learn a handful of high-level arts and spells and incorporate them into their fighting style. You’ll rarely ever see an actual ninth-circle spell or art thrown out simply because of the resources and time it takes to use them. For instance, remember how long the life mage’s Arboreal world took to cast?"

Fyren waited for us to nod before speaking again.

"Even with a century to master, it’s rare to cut that initial time down in half. There are so many runes and nuances that reference material, even the strongest demons and arbiters will still bring along their tomes. Thus, most spells are cast before a battle begins, or behind the protection of an army or other ninth-level beings."

"You know a lot about ninth-level beings for showing up at fourth level," Korra said. "We can just gang up on this bastard like we have every other opponent stronger than us."

He scowled at her. "Shut up and listen, hero. Even at the eighth level, you can’t imagine the scale or complexity that the ninth level opens up. If you can absorb even a fraction of what I’m saying, it might be enough to save your life. Because until you cross that threshold, that’s all you’ll be doing. Surviving."

"What about arts?" Gayron asked suddenly. "You were referring to spells before, yes?"

"Glad someone’s listening," Fyren said with a snort. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Ninth-level arts are a lot more common than spells, but rarely exceed the beginning stages of that realm. Simply gathering enough mana takes seconds, which might as well be an eternity. Instead, expect to see an extraordinary amount of sixth, seventh, and eighth-level attacks. A single swipe of a sword can summon several at once and attack from multiple directions. I’ve seen arbiters use their wings to summon storms and wield their auras as a tangible weapon. Not to mention the endless myriads of unique abilities scattered across their ranks. Most once served as heroes at some point in their life, and likely formed their combat style around abilities of similar strength to your own."

"Okay, I think I get the general idea," Korra said, holding up her hands. "Don’t be an idiot."

Fyren huffed. "Something like that."

A call came from the helmsman, and I turned, finding Captain Melvet calling, "My Lady, we’re approaching the barrier."

The ship slowed as it neared the boundary of my aegis, the golden dome warping the air beyond, like we were looking through the side of a fish tank. The landscape beyond was a nightmare of shattered earth, broken up by the scorched husks of trees, pointing toward the sky like the pillars of a ruined temple. The small settlements and farming communities that had dotted the forest were gone, wiped completely off the map. In the distance, I could just make out three souls, their auras searing bright against the twilight sky.

"Forward. It’ll let us pass," I said.

The captain nodded, and the ship ran prow-first into the golden wall. It rippled like the surface of a pond, letting the Azure Wing pass through. I shivered as the membrane flowed around us, cold and tingly.

The ship rocked the instant it was free, nearly bounced back into the ward. Captain Melvet shouted orders, and the ship stabilized, only to groan as yet another shockwave broke across the hull. They were almost indiscernible from one another, flowing in a constant flow, buffeting the ship like the ocean waves.

"She won’t hold up," Melvet cried, "We have a minute, maybe two, before our earlier repairs break and we’re grounded."

"On it!" I cried. "Just get us as close to them as you can!"

With Fyren and my guard trailing me, I raced below decks. The Aetherial Prism glimmered in welcome as I ran, panting, into the lower hold. As I summoned my staff, reaching out to it, the prism’s mana was already open, receiving me as if it had been waiting. Using it just felt right.

"Grand Aegis!" I cried, soulcasting the seventh-circle spell with its mana.

The ship quieted as a glowing sphere materialized around it. While weaker than Shining Aegis and entirely unsuitable for the fight we were entering, it acted as a medium for Adaptive Resistance, the true shield the ship needed. The ward would bear the brunt of the physical shockwaves, while my ability absorbed whatever collateral damage we received from the actual attacks.

By the time I returned to the deck, the Azure Wing had stopped a half mile from the origin of the shockwaves. I could make out Selena and Luke now. Her elemental was nowhere to be seen, probably reduced to one of the blackened trunks we’d passed on our way here. She now fought with a barrage of sixth and seventh-level spells, exactly as Fyren had predicted. Luke was a mote of violet light, weaving around the inquisitor. Though the angel paid him no mind, he rarely moved to attack it, seemingly occupied fighting a dozen smaller forms I couldn’t quite make out.

Korra, Gayron, and R’lissea had already left, taking Borealis with them. They streaked across the sky, releasing their auras to combat the high-speed winds and ambient pressure of the combatants. I felt Luke and Selena’s relief at their coming, as well as a torrent of thoughts and memories related to their experience so far.

But before they could engage, the arbiter released a wave of light, evaporating Selena, Luke, and his own mana from the skies and knocking everyone away. The world quieted for the first time since we left the Shining Aegis as he surveyed our ship and my friends, his solid golden eyes narrowing.

"More heretics?" A deafening voice boomed across the skies. "You mortals grow too bold, sending heroes against me. It displeases the gods to slay their own, but don’t think that will stay my hand."

"He’s too arrogant to notice you," Fyren murmured, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Arbiters are always prideful, but this one exceeds even their usual measure. Someone should have informed him of your mana signature before his arrival, but even without that, there’s no excuse for his failure to recognize that no one else on Enusia could weave such an intricate fate spell around this ship."

"Xiviyah, are you safe?" Luke’s voice penetrated my mind, filled with so much worry I couldn’t help but smile.

"I’m fine, and you?"

He winced, and I saw him rub his arm. "Fyren was right, I might have been a little out of my league on this one. But we should be able to take him now that everyone’s here. He’s a summoner or something, creating endless enemies for me to fight. Most are pretty weak, but it seems to drain him a little every time one is killed."

"That’s our plan," Korra said, interjecting in our thoughts. "Spread out and force him to use his mana to fend all of us off. Then Selena moves in for the finishing blow."

"You have a lot of faith in me," Selena said, a touch of exhaustion slowing her thoughts. "I’ve burned through most of my mana already. Attrition is not viable right now. He’s too strong."

"Where is the filthblood?" the arbiter roared, looking around my friends. "Crimson hair, I’ve been told, and a delicious aura." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"Delicious? What are you, a demon?" Gayron asked.

The arbiter swiveled to face him, staring at him with those haunting, pupilless eyes. "A demonkin, but one bearing the taint of the infernal. Just like the other fly. Let’s see if you’re swatted any easier!"

With those words, he raised his sword, and a molten sphere of sunlight coalesced atop the point. It ruptured in a series of shining rays, each forming a humanoid creature with wings and various weapons. They reminded me of the remnants, without depth or color, save that they had nothing resembling a soul. They were mere puppets, save that each carried enough mana to level a small city.

"Fly, mortals," he said, laughing. "Survive this, and prove to me you have the right to die by my own sword!"