The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 974: Foreign Stars

My visions that night were cold and dark, taking me across the entirety of the southern continent. I saw countless fortresses and keeps, shrouded in the night’s gloom, their courtyards and barracks glinting with the steel of mustering soldiers. Cold winds coursed through city alleys, bringing the chill of winter to the beggars shivering therin. On the walls of the cities and ports, mana cannons mounted towers, and skyships patrolled the snow-filled sky. Above all, across the world, the faint glow of the world barrier tinted the night, turning cloud, storm, and star a shimmering purple.

Human souls burned within the bitter night, bright and lively despite the shadows. From fortresses to farm villages, soldiers and ordinary humans alike sparked with warmth and light. Every city seemed alive, and every soul burned with hope. They spoke of the demons swarming over the northern continent, and of their strength and resolution to keep them from the south.

The sheer numbers, strength, and courage of their armies, gathered wherever they were, filled me with dread, for in my heart, I knew we must inevitably face them. Their high spirits, their strength, their hope...we must break it all.

The vision latched onto that thought, and I was drawn into the audience chamber at the Divine Throne. The room was dark, lit by reserve crystals only, leaving the magical devices that could display generals and fathers from far away in the dark. Soltair and the Pope stood alone in the middle.

Soltair wore his armor, his holy sword in a sheathe at his side. He looked older than I’d last seen him, his soul at the peak of the eighth level. He’d lost some weight, and the lines around his eyes were more pronounced, leaving his toned physique even more pronounced.

The Pope seemed to have aged a decade, his white hair streaked with faded gray. He wore a fine white robe with a gold sun emblazoned on his chest, but his aura was weak and flickering, hardly representative of his true strength.

"Are you certain?" Soltair asked, arms folded, a frown weighing on his handsome face.

"I’m afraid the divine was clear," the pope answered. "Father Ithris managed to escape, but Lord Evlon and his team were defeated in the lands of the elves. I’ve heard he arrived back at the Throne some hours ago, and is preparing a debriefing."

At hearing that they were talking about us, I drew closer, hovering just a few feet away. Father Ithris...I’d almost forgotten about him, seeing as he hid in the shadows behind Lord Evlon, but he’d been the true authority behind the church’s mission to reclaim me. I had no doubt he would have been the one to summon the arbiter, yet he’d never turned up afterward, nor had I heard rumors of his death during the revolution.

"Hence the reason you called for council," Soltair said, raising his chin at the dark projectors.

"Indeed. And I asked you to come early to discuss something of vital importance."

"It had better be good. Trithe had wanted to visit a restaurant for lunch. She’s most put out I had to cancel," Soltair said.

The pope let out a long, tired sigh. "I’m afraid the time for ease is coming to an end. With the fall of the northern continent, the demons will turn their eyes southward."

"If they’re not already. I noticed the appearance of demon gates has all but ceased," Soltair said.

"That’s because they secured a foothold. Even the demons, stupid and arrogant as they are, won’t waste their resources when we’ve proven our defenses adequate to close every gate. They will muster everything they have on the north and launch a more conventional invasion by sea and air."

"So what is it you wished to speak to me about? It won’t be long before the others arrive," Soltair said, glancing at the doorway.

"Ah, right. Forgive my ramblings. It’s been harder to focus my thoughts as of late," The pope muttered, pressing a hand to his head. "I wished to press the matter of the Fate Hero. You convinced me that leaving her to her own desires was appropriate, but the fathers have worried my ear with their protests. The time has come to eliminate all risks and unite with one purpose against the demons. By choice or by chain, it matters not."

I covered my mouth, suppressing a gasp even though they wouldn’t be able to hear me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, for they’d already proven themselves monsters time and time again, but for Verity? She was an enemy, sworn to take my life and divinity, yet I couldn’t bring myself to hate her. She was too...earnest. Naive, maybe, but she’d questioned the church before, and I knew she had doubts.

"No..."

I squeaked, whirling as a hoarse whisper sounded behind me. There, wreathed in silver light, was Verity herself. She lacked the gleaming armor and sword that normally dressed her soul form, wearing a simple silver dress with light blue embroidery around the low-cut neckline and long, ruffled sleeves. She held a hand to her heart, fingers curled limply in a fist, a sorrowful weight in her countenance.

"Verity...?" I asked faintly, my heart pounding.

She didn’t respond to my presence, as if she hadn’t noticed me. Or just didn’t care.

Was this my vision, or hers? Was I visiting foreign stars, or were we sharing the sky?

Verity’s eyes shimmered, filling with tears as Soltair slowly nodded.

"I hate to think of that, but she’s been...reluctant," he admitted. "She’s questioned my decisions too many times, and I know she’s hiding parts of her visions from me."

The Pope’s expression was grave. "I see. And your...intimacy doesn’t soften her heart?"

He shook his head. "No, she’s avoided it for some time now, never coming to bed when I call her. There’s always an excuse, from a headache to a late-night prayer or vision. It makes Trithe happy, but I wonder what I’ve done to push her away."

"If you’ve lost that influence...that only makes this decision more necessary."

Verity let out a choked sob, falling to her knees. Her dress pooled around her, tears trickling down her cheeks and dripping onto the fabric.

"I’ve done everything they asked," she whispered, sniffling. "I’ve done everything I thought was right. Was it still not enough?"

I knelt beside her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. She shivered at my touch, but didn’t recoil. I pulled her into my arms, glaring fiercely at Soltair and the Pope.

"I must go," she whispered, dragging her sleeve across her eyes.

"Wait, Verity--"

She vanished before I could finish, leaving my arms cold and empty. I stared at the dark blotch on my sleeve, wet by her tears. My heart ached for her, tears welling up unbidden. But I felt more sorrow than for her. If they were willing to curse Verity, then surely they would do the same for the other heroes. Perhaps not for Soltair, who was practically immune to that kind of magic anyway, but certainly for Grace, Korra’s friend. Next time they met, it wouldn’t be as rivals, but true enemies.

The door opened, and a white-robed father entered. He glanced at Soltair and the Pope curiously, but didn’t question what they were doing. Instead, he took his position around the war map. More generals and fathers filtered in over the next few minutes, followed by Verity herself, flanked by a pair of sixth-level priests. She wore the same dress I’d just seen on her soul form. Her eyes were red, her lower lip trembling slightly.

Soltair went to her, smiling warmly as he took her hands, pulling her into a kiss. She flinched, turning her head at the last moment, causing him to kiss her cheek instead. He pretended not to notice, but I saw a flash of annoyance cross his face. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Are you alright?" he asked, caressing her cheek, frowning as he brushed a tear from the corner of her eye.

She bit her lip. "Fine."

He gave her a worried look and opened his mouth to say more, but before he could, the Pope cleared his throat. The magical projections lit up, bringing more generals and fathers to the meeting. Alex was there, as were Grace and Ronin. I looked around for the other heroes, but there were none. Were there that few of us who remained with the church?

Soltair took Verity by the hand, leading them to their seats. "Is your spell active?" he whispered as he sat down, keeping her hand held tightly in his lap.

She nodded dully, staring at the ground. "Always. Can’t have Xiviyah spying on us, right?"

"The Oracle," he corrected gently. "It’s not good to be so familiar with the traitors who stand against us. It might make others question our own allegiance and resolve."

I tilted my head, looking around questioningly. That Verity had discovered magic to block my vision was beyond question, but I saw no hints of it here. In fact, the only magic Verity had active was her own personal wards.

The door swung open once more, and Father Ithris entered. His robes were weathered, his face worn, but his eyes blazed as he strode to the center.

"Welcome home, Father," the pope said.

Father Ithris bowed low. "Thank you, your holiness. Forgive my forward manner this day, but there is much I have to say. Would you allow me to begin?"