The banquet seed identical to every other one I’d been forced to attend in this world. Loud talking, laughter, and conversation enveloped the mont the door opened. The tingling of glass and scrape of plates grated against my sensitive ears, and the flood of bright lights was harsh against my eyes. I shied away as eyes turned toward us, curious who the newcors were. It took less than a second for gasps of shock to draw the attention of others, until the entire room stared at .
The inquisitor marched forward unabashed, seemingly ignorant of the powerful stares of kings, rulers, and fathers. Still under her command, I staggered after her lest I suffer the public humiliation of a punishnt. I moved unsteadily, drunk on the overwhelming exposure and battling a paralyzing anxiety. There were so many people watching my every move, their eyes narrowed, their lips curled in disgust, leaving my mind blank save a sole remaining instinctual thought. To run.
But I couldn’t. My fear of the slave crest overpowered all else, forcing into the banquet hall. My hands tightened around the folds of my skirt as a thousand whispers broke out, the vicious gossip driving to walk far faster than I had originally had strength for.
Most heavy of all were the stares of the other heroes, who sat proudly in the seats of honor. I dimly recalled soone ntioning it was the celebration of the one year anniversary of the summoning, which was the supposed purpose of this festival. Had we really been in Enusia for an entire year? It felt like an entire lifeti to , filled with more pain and suffering than I had imagined possible. It hadn’t all been dark, but now that those lights had faded, leaving darkness, I wish it had been.
Soltair raised an eyebrow at before giving a slight, disappointed shake of his head. Beyond that, he spared no more attention, returning to his conversation with Levin, the Earth Hero. The Justice Hero, Victor, stared at , eyes smoldering with condemnation. His indignation was justified, as he no doubt rembered, as I did, when he detained half a year ago for being a Demon spy. He walked the straight and narrow, or at least, what he perceived as such. Even with what little I knew of him, there was no doubt he’d be furious about my betrayal.
The other heroes leaned between morbid curiosity and outright hatred. Ronin’s glare caused a shiver to run down my tail while Connor’s impassive gaze felt colder than the Ice Gate. Whatever warmth he had once shown was gone, and he no longer flinched whenever he glanced at . Worst of all, Korra didn’t so much as acknowledge my arrival, pretending to be deep in discussion with Grace, the Storm Hero. But her eyes were red and puffy as though she’d been crying, and her hands shook ever so slightly. I lingered on her for a second, my heart sinking lower as she refused to turn, even as Grace’s eyes alighted upon .
Beside her was Alex. He watched closely, lips curved in a slight smirk. His smile widened when he noticed watching, taking on a decidedly inviting note. I shivered, clutching my arms around myself, feeling naked, and vulnerable before him. His two companions were there too, and I briefly wondered why’d then been absent all the gate. It might have been for the best, considering the devastation wrought on our own forces. Regardless, the thought didn’t last long as I was herded roughly forward, past their gazes.
The inquisitor bid sit at the servant’s table, farthest from the festivities. The servants had their hands full waiting on the guests, but the few who had managed to sit edged as far from as they could. Their submissive gazes were marked with fear, and they practically shivered with fright.
Eventually, the atmosphere returned to normal, and the guests picked up their conversations where they left off. But, amid the clamor and confusion of the endless political maneuvers, thickly veiled insults, and the occasional burst of raucous laughter, I felt their stares resting upon . The mont I arrived, it beca impossible for anyone to focus on anything else. I was the hero who had betrayed the world, nearly leading it to ruin. The dirty filthblood the church had shown rcy to, only to be stabbed in the back.
For so reason, I found myself thinking of the words of the elf I t so very long ago. He’d said I was an inspiration to the oppressed everywhere, that my constant courage and conviction inspired them to have hope even as the entire world turned against him. I’d been appalled at the ti, to know so many people were thinking of , but now the weight of that worship settled on fully. I groaned softly, hiding my face in my hands, wishing I could disappear into the darkness that threatened to consu .
The soft scrape of wood against wood freed from my despair, and I looked up to find a slave placing a bowl before . It was simple food, slave food, but my stomach nearly leaped out of my throat in excitent. I glanced up, daring to et his gaze, and was shocked at the warmth in his eyes.
"Don’t give up," he whispered, keeping his eyes on the ground.
He turned and left, almost fleeing, and I stared after him. His face felt familiar, but I knew we hadn’t spoken before. Was he one of the slaves I had healed? Before I left the Divine Throne, I would often practice my Life Magic on the other slaves who had been injured in beatings or fights amongst themselves. But would they still rember the lost, timid girl who had stayed among them a few months?
Distracted by my thoughts, I almost missed it when the Pope stood. The banquet hall grew silent, and he began giving what had to be a prepared speech. His topics ranged from the bitter battles in the gates to the war preparations in every country of the world. In the year since the gods gave their warning, Enusia had been gearing up. We heroes had fought alongside their standing armies, but in the war to co, they would be far from enough. Part of our purpose in closing the gates was to stall the ti of the invasion, and allow even the common man to be prepared to fight.
He spoke for nearly an hour, and as his speech was drawing to a close, he finally turned to and gestured. Following the orders of the inquisitor, who was leaning against a pillar on the other side of the room, I rose, bowing my head and doing everything I could to appear small to avoid attracting attention. It didn’t work, however, as the dreaded eyes returned, causing my tail to twist uneasily.
The Pope held out his hand and a Father handed him a tightly bound scroll. Unfurling it, he began reading off a record of the Trial, deeply exploring the various accusations leveled against and the results of their judgnt. The entire hall was silent as the stones themselves, and by the ti he finished, every man and woman glared at with open hatred and hostility. Not a single king, noble, or priest held even a asure of curiosity or skepticism, and I couldn’t bla them. I had no intention of hurting the people of this world, but my choices had caused the deaths of thousands. Most of the charges leveled against were re fabrications of exaggerated misdeeds, but that didn’t remove the stain of the sins I had committed.
After closing the scroll, the Pope started on rhetoric, reciting from mory what he claid to be the will of the gods concerning . It was all slander and insult, but the words slipped by, feeling aningless. Not because they were pompous or pretentiously unique, but quite the opposite. They were things I’d heard a thousand tis coming from just as many mouths.
Fallen hero, slave, filthblood. All nas and descriptions I’d been given, but in the end, who was I really? I didn’t know anymore. Was I a slave, or a hero? Things had been confusing enough before, but now, my title and status were gone, leaving nothing but chains. My life was sworn for one thing alone, but now I had been cast aside, deprived of purpose and aning.
Eventually, the Pope finished his speech, glaring at until I sat once more. He then announced the rest of the festival, but his voice sounded far away and muffled. No, it wasn’t him, but . The prolonged period of activity today stressed my body and mind, both atrophied from days and weeks of neglect. Haze invaded the edges of my vision, and I found myself bent over the table, resting my head on my forearms. Slowly, my eyes closed. He was still talking, going on about a tournant of so sort.
Surely I could rest for a minute. Just a few breaths, and then I’d be fine. The darkness closed in, taking out of consciousness. The last thing I registered was the faint tingling of mana, writhing in my soul in warning, and Alex’s gaze, pressing into .
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