The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 986: Final Muster

Two days. That was all the time I had before the elves marched to war. Two days of relative peace and quiet, of quiet walks with Luke, and of exploring the new limits of my soul. From the start, I had no issue maintaining the gate with Haven at all times, leaving Fable to guard it from curious elves and mages. Even when I slept, the flow maintained itself off of my passive recovery, allowing free passage to my friends, Fyren, and the rangers.

But the portal was only the start. Through some experimentation, I discovered anyone, not just those I shared a mark with, could travel through gates. When I returned to let Emlica look the soul binder over, she explained it functioned similar to the shard’s teleportation, using the soul position of whatever being I had marked as the origin of the gate. That meant that as long as I sent Fable or a demon with my mark somewhere, I’d be able to open a gate. The longest I could hold it was a minute, after which I required several hours of rest before I felt up to casting even simple spells.

The only thing I didn’t dare try was passing through a gate myself. Emlica sternly warned me against it, and after my experience teleporting from the southern continent, I was happy to oblige. I’d made so many precious memories with Luke these past few weeks...I couldn’t bear the thought of losing them.

"Are you sure you wish to go with them?" Fyren asked as the time came for us to make ready. "This isn’t your war. You should be preparing to strike the southern continent, not risking your life and forces against the Risen."

"I promised R’lissea I’d help. "Besides, it’s not just for her. I used the Devoted and the Last Light Company as a bulwark against the Risen for months now. They’ve fought, suffered, and died in my name, buying with blood the support of the elves so Aerion could do what he did. If I were to abandon that cause, their sacrifice, now, I would never forgive myself."

"Then I shall fight beside you. I’m curious to see how long this Undead Hero can stand against us."

"He knows," I whispered, looking down, fingers curling into my skirt. "He knows he can’t win."

"Then why fight?" Luke asked.

"Because every soul he reaps, every demon and mortal killed, in one less to stand in the conflict."

Luke snorted. "That bastard doesn’t care about the gods winning. He personally slaughtered thousands of the divine’s armies in the southern kingdoms and threw them against us as Risen."

"No, he’s not supporting the church. Or the demons, for that matter," I said, looking at him. "He wants it to end."

"End?" Fyren’s eyes narrowed.

"Oblivion," I said quietly. "He wants oblivion. For the war, the cycle, to end."

"He’s a fool. Oblivion isn’t an end," Fyren muttered.

"It’s not?" I asked, turning to him, eyes wide.

He shook his head, letting out a grunt. "Of course not. It’s the space between. The night between days, the pause between breaths, the quiet between journeys. Just as it harbingers an end, so too does it herald a beginning, for there is nothing that can be created, and nothing that can be destroyed. Changed, reorganized, perhaps, but in the beginning, all was, and in the end, all will be. Thus is the Father’s design."

I was quiet for a long while, absently rolling my ring around my finger. That wasn’t at all what I knew. Even Fate had described it differently. An eternal end, a darkness to claim all light.

And yet, hadn’t she also mentioned a beginning? How else could she hope to end the Divine Cycle and reforge it anew? Just where did Fate end, and Oblivion begin?

I was left to my thoughts as we finished our preparations and gathered with the others in the Sunsinger Courtyard. Aerion was there, the starlit crown resting atop his head. Beside him, I recognized Esvitt and Commander Whitemarsh. A dozen other officers, those who had once led the confederate garrisons, stood at attention, wearing new crimson sashes. Elise waved me over from where she waited with Selena, Korra, and Gayron.

"You’re going, then?" Elise asked Luke, and I stood beside them.

"I am. You’re not?"

She sighed, running her hand through her hair. "I’m afraid I’ve never been much good at fighting. It was all I could do to break into the sixth level. I haven’t even progressed a little in the months since. I’d only get in the way."

"Your talents lie elsewhere. My brother was quite impressed with your political savvy," Selena said. "And you’ve successfully negotiated the surrender of the only two remaining nations of the northern continent. Quite a feat, if you ask me."

Elise nodded, looking at the ground. "I’m...not like that. Someone like me can’t--"

"Not another word," I said, taking her hand.

She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with excess moisture. She bit her lip, keeping it from trembling.

"Sorry, this is supposed to be a triumphant occasion," she said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve."

"We go to conquer your home nation. It can’t be easy for you," Korra said.

"It’s not that, I...it’s nothing," she said, forcing a hint of cheer into her voice. "Do whatever you can to free my people. Let their souls know rest."

"You have our word," I said, earnestly meeting her gaze. My aura curled around her, sharing, I hoped, some of the warmth I felt with her.

"Oracle!" Aerion called. "We’re ready."

"Right," I said, glancing at Luke. "You’re coming too, right?"

"I need those shards. But even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t leave your side," he said.

"The apostles march with us?" Aerion asked, feigning surprise, as if we hadn’t spent the last two days planning this invasion. "You’ve shown us more than enough generosity, but we will not turn away your help."

Luke stared at him, lips pursed in a frown. I nudged him, squeezing his hand tightly, and he sighed.

"Consider our presence a gesture of trust and goodwill," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you," I whispered as Aerion turned, announcing the alliance to the courtyard.

"Such scripted politics have no interest. If you weren’t the one asking..." he muttered.

As Aerion marshalled his officers, giving them the final orders preparatory to the departure, we made our way to the skyport, leaving Elise behind. I barely hesitated as we boarded the Azure Wing, my hands trembling just a bit as I gripped the railing, looking down at the skydocs. Every bay held a ship, with rigging and cranes strewn across like cobwebs. Soldiers and sailors swarmed everywhere, loading mana cannons and supplies into the holds, filing aboard, or undergoing a final inspection of the ships and their systems, ensuring they were skyworthy.

"Greetings, Oracle," a warm, friendly voice sounded.

I turned, a smile flitting across my face as I recognized Captain Melvet, captain of the Azure Wing.

"Seems you found your skylegs," he said, grinning as he broke into a low chuckle. "It’s a relief to have you aboard. I was surprised when you requested passage on our decks instead of the Seraph. It’s the royal flagship," he explained, seeing my confused look.

"Oh. Well, um, I was surprised when I saw you’d managed to fix it. All of them, actually," I said, turning and surveying the docs once more. Almost every single ship here had sustained critical damage by R’lissea and Zephyriss’s hand. That, in a few short weeks, they could be brought back to fighting condition was simply amazing. That the Azure Wing, in specific, had survived firing the ninth-level cannon, and was now survivable, was an actual miracle.

"Your trust honors us," the captain said, bowing slightly. "It will comfort you to know we’ve no hidden armaments on board, and every member of its crew and wing has survived rigorous training and layers of interviews. I conducted the last one myself, ensuring no traitors are among us."

I gave him another smile. "I’m not worried. I’m just grateful I can fly with a familiar face."

His grin widened. "The honor is all mine. I’ve got cabins prepared for you and your companions. They’re small and cramped, but they’re the best this ship has to offer."

I dipped my head in gratitude, taking Luke’s hand as the captain left, already shouting orders to the crew. It wasn’t long before preparations were complete, the last of the soldiers boarded, and the great skyships began to rise into the sky, one after the other. The winds caught us as we rose above the canopy, dampened to a breeze by the ship’s enchantments.

"That’s a lot of soldiers," I whispered as we soared over the city. In every manor courtyard, and half the town beside, the verdant green of Sylvari uniforms splashed amid the trees. Cheers rose beneath us as we passed, soldiers raising their swords in spears in salute. I’d been impressed by the hundreds in the skyward, yet the mustering armies below had to number in the tens of thousands.

"Every elf who can hold a sword, or so Aerion said," Korra said, resting her hands on the railing, peering ahead. The wind caught the trails of her bright blue and green sashes, causing them to dance behind her. "I just hope it’s enough."