The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 963: Revelation

I took a long, deep breath, inhaling the heavy scent of the blossoms blooming beneath the balcony. I leaned on the railing, chin resting on my crossed arms, staring out into the garden. Sari and Fable played in the soft, short grass, chasing each other’s tails. It had been only a few minutes since Aerion had dismissed us, yet my thoughts were still muddled, tangled in the wreckage of the past twenty-four hours.

I still couldn’t make heads or tails of the city’s fate. The nobles were subdued, for now, and the last of the fighting had stopped with the dawn. The pillars of smoke had dwindled to thin trails, but the cries of sorrow and loss had only just begun to replace them. Had we really won? How many had died for our ’victory?’

"I just don’t get it," I mumbled, tilting my head toward Elise. She stood beside me with her hands clasped tightly at her waist, her hair rustling in the morning breeze as she stared into the distance.

Elise started, as if pulling herself back from somewhere far away. "Sorry?"

"All this," I said, gesturing toward the garden, though I meant the city beyond the walls. "How can they just... take over? Don’t they know how many people are going to die in the chaos they’ve made? Creating new laws, enforcing them, protecting people... that takes years."

She blinked, taken aback. "Where is this coming from?"

"It’s already started," I murmured. "Everything I saw before the battle... It’s the same thing happening in Brithlite and Heartland. When the strong fight, the weak suffer. Thousands of innocents fell in the city last night, tens of thousands by the arbiter and the cannon, but it’s nothing compared to what the survivors will endure. Looting, famine, disease... they haven’t even counted the bodies yet, and it’s already happening."

"There’s always a cost to change."

I turned to her, aghast by the lack of warmth in her voice. "But that’s—"

"Xiviyah," she interrupted gently. Her face softened, but she didn’t look at me. Instead, she looked out at the horizon with a practiced, almost regal detachment. "You’re right. It takes years to plan a government. But the Crimson Dawn has been doing exactly that for the better part of a century."

She leaned against the stone, her fingers tracing a jagged crack in the railing. "Aerion began these ambitions when he was young, looking at this kingdom with fresh eyes. His influence has spread through every system and house for decades. There was a setback years ago. I don’t know what, but something forced him into an adventurer’s life from the military, and our arrival was the catalyst that brought it all back together."

"I remember him mentioning that. That I was an... opportunity," I said, the word feeling heavy and bitter.

She nodded. "Exactly. An opportunity to finally finish what they started a hundred years ago. There will be chaos, yes. But this isn’t a human revolution where they kill first and ask questions later. Elves have time, Xiviyah. They are patient, cunning, and precise. It won’t be long before the Crimson Dawn officially takes over."

"So it’s already... prepared? They know exactly what they’re going to do?"

"I wouldn’t say they have every answer," she said with a slight, tired shrug. "But there are elves in high places who have waited a lifetime for this day. Unlike the Tribunal, they’ve actually lived among the people they’ll be ruling. The new laws will be more efficient. Fairer, with any luck." She let out a breath that sounded almost like a plea. "It’s a beautiful thing, really, to see it finally take shape. I wish more places had the courage to follow their example."

"You really are a princess," I said, pulling at a strand of my hair, my tail flicking in annoyance. "You make it all sound so simple. I can’t even imagine doing something like this. Just trying to get Fate or Fyren to tell me what’s going on is hard enough."

She laughed, but the sound didn’t reach her eyes. "Maybe. But it’s the truth."

"I... I suppose," I sighed. I looked away, my gaze falling back on the garden. The morning light glinted off Sari’s hair as she pounced on Fable’s tail, hugging it with a squeal as he shook it, waving her in the air like a baton. "You know, Elise... you could do it, too. You’re so kind, and...intelligent. A lot of people need someone like you."

Elise froze. A violent shudder ran through her, and she pulled her arms in close to her chest, as if she were suddenly freezing.

"Xiviyah, I... no. I couldn’t." Her voice no longer held any composure. It was thin and brittle. "I don’t know what you’ve seen in those visions, but I can’t. Speaking for Luke, negotiating a surrender... even that’s too much. I just can’t."

"Elise..." I hesitated, biting my lip.

"Please, you’re the only one who knows me. That I can...please, you can’t ask that," she said, a tremor shaking her words. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading, and...frightened.

I stepped away from the railing and pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first, her breath hitching, but slowly she collapsed into me, returning the embrace with a desperate fierceness.

"Please..." she whispered again into my shoulder. "Not after... not with who I am. What I am."

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. I could feel the cold knot of her fear radiating through her. It twisted in my own stomach as I felt her swallow hard, trying to hide her face from me. I yearned for something to say, a sentiment that could dull the edge of her shame, but the words died in my throat. How could I diminish what the Circle had done to her? What I had let them do?

A soft cough sounded behind us. I patted Elise’s back one last time before reluctantly parting. She turned away quickly, her movements sharp and guarded. She scrubbed her arm over her face, drying tears she didn’t have the courage to actually let fall.

"Anrynth?" I asked, looking over her shoulder.

The servant smiled faintly, his eyes pointedly lowered from Elise as he bowed. "Forgive the intrusion, my Lady, but Aerion has requested your presence."

"Again?" I asked, running a tired hand over my horn.

"I’m afraid so, though he asked you to join him in his study."

"A private audience, then," Elise said, her voice back to normal. If not for the redness in her eyes, I would never have guessed she’d been on the edge of tears but moments ago. "If you’ll excuse me...?"

"Wait, Lady Lastlight," Anrynth said, "You, and the rest of our guests, are also invited. It seems to have something to do with the inquisitors."

My stomach twisted. Inquisitors. Even now, even with all of them dead, the word still soured the air.

Elise looked at me, and I nodded. Together, we followed the butler into the manor.

Aerion sat behind his desk, an exhausted look on his face. But he straightened as we entered, his mask returning.

"Welcome, Oracle, Lady Lastlight," he said, dismissing Anrynth with a nod.

"Aerion...the others aren’t here, yet?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, but I expect them soon. Please, have a seat. There’s something I must tell you."

There was something about the way he said you that made my tail curl, and I got the feeling he meant me personally. But if that was the case, why invite the others?

As promised, it wasn’t long before Korra arrived, with R’lissea leaning slightly against her side. Before I could stop myself, I was on my feet, crossing the room in a few quick, silent strides, my heart thumping against my ribs. R’lissea barely had time to look up before I reached her, pulling her into a hug so sudden and fierce it caused her to let out a small, muffled squeak of surprise. For a long second, she remained still, startled by the sheer strength in my arms.

"You’re awake," I whispered into her hair, my voice thick. I held her tight, as if I could physically shield her from the memory of the blade that had nearly taken her.

"Xiviyah?" she asked, her voice light and giggling weakly as she finally returned the embrace, patting my back with a trembling hand. "It was only a day! When you collapse after a battle, I’m not even worried till a whole week’s passed."

When I finally stepped back, I kept my hands on her shoulders, circling her anxiously to check for any sign of lingering pain.

My fingers brushed the fabric of her dress, tracing the phantom line where the Inquisitor’s blade had cut her open. She flinched as I got close to the wound, her skin turning warm beneath my touch, her fingers curling into the folds of her skirt.

"It doesn’t still hurt, does it?" I asked, my voice dropping.

She shook her head, her expression becoming solemn and quiet. "It... no, it doesn’t. The elves took care of me. I’m alright, Xiviyah. I would just heal myself if I weren’t."

"Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her," Korra said, reaching out to give my arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Just make sure she doesn’t push herself, alright?" I asked, finally offering Korra a small, tired smile.

"Hey! I’m not a child," R’lissea protested, though she didn’t move away from Korra’s side.

I managed a soft laugh. "Neither am I, yet that doesn’t stop you from fussing over me."

"That’s different, I..." she hesitated, her face reddening as she looked at the floor. "Okay, maybe it’s not."

Aerion cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. He waited until we had found our seats around the heavy oak desk, his presence reclaiming the space. He let out a slow sigh and stood, his hands resting on the dark wood. He waited until he had all of our attention, his expression shifting into something grave.

"As I said before, there’s something I must tell you," he began, his voice dropping into a low, solemn register. "The truth of what I said to High Inquisitor Evlon yesterday, as he defied my claim to this land. We had what you might call an alliance."