The next few days flashed by, filled with new faces and experiences. After another talk with Helron, Bilev, the innkeeper, begrudgingly allowed to remain in the room, albeit with the promise I would pay him back once I beca an adventurer.
That was unfamiliar water for , but I had no one to confide in. Money had never been a concern until now. Heroes received things as "gifts," and slaves were lucky to receive whatever scraps their masters rembered to give them. Trithe had once offered to take shopping, claiming it was a delightful experience shared between won, but it had sohow never happened.
I was on slightly firr ground when it ca to adventuring. According to Soltair, our journey was nothing short of an epic adventure, and we were exemplary adventurers. But here, they seed to talk about "adventurers" as an occupation, or at least a structured job. Helron was a guildmaster, which seed to be a position involved in organizing various requests and parties. With the little I gleaned from Tana and Sorrin, adventurers were ranked by their power and experience and allowed to take on specific quests for money. It wasn’t quite the romantic portrayal Soltair always talked about, but it seed fairly simple and reasonable to .
At first, I was reluctant to commit to anything of the sort, as it increased the risk of exposing myself. But, if I wanted to recover, I would be forced to continue using magic, which ant being known as a mage. Rather than a solitary, unpredictable threat, wouldn’t it be better to embrace it? For the first ti, I would be able to support myself with a real job and honest money, without selling myself or relying on the rcy of others. It was an opportunity for a new type of freedom, one I was unexpectedly eager to explore.
Tana and Sorrin left with Helron early in the week, returning to gather the rest of their party. Like other adventurers, they were based in Heartland, but frequently traveled all through the surrounding region, hunting monsters, gathering materials, or escorting rchants. It was a week-long journey to Heartland from Westfall Village, which gave plenty of ti to prepare to et the party.
Ever since that first excursion, I made it a point to get out of the inn for a few hours every day, walking around the village and enjoying the sun. Occasionally, I’d venture out into the forest, although never in the direction I arrived from, and I always returned well before nightfall. But even with all my caution, there was a constant feeling of being watched, which left perpetually uneasy.
On the fifth day following the adventurer’s departure, I was in the forest, ditating on a stump. The spring weather was mild, with hardly a cloud in the sky, and I spent at least as much ti soaking in the warmth as cycling mana through my soul. The dungeons of High Valley and the Divine Throne were cold and damp, and I found simply bathing leisurely in the sun nearly addicting. A slight breeze ruffled my long, scarlet hair, gently lifting the silky strands from my shoulders and splaying them in the air behind . Even the Sunpurge felt cool, and the constant ache of my soul was hardly noticeable.
Taking hold of my staff, I gathered my mana and began to cast, weaving small, intricate runes as easily as breathing. They didn’t form any particular spell, simply drifting through the air like dandelion seeds for my own enjoynt. Combined, they held a portion of the mana needed for a first-circle spell, but it was all I could muster at the ti.
"Starlight!"
The sudden, childish voice scattered my thoughts, and the glittering runes popped like bubbles. Opening my eyes, I caught sight of a young Foxkin boy, perhaps ten or eleven, standing at the edge of the small clearing, watching with wide eyes. Behind him, a girl of the sa race, a year younger, tugged at his shirt, clutching a string doll in her other hand. They shared the sa rusty hair color and hazel eyes.
They spoke Beastkin, and were children from one of the three Beastkin families living in Westfall Village. Although I was nervous around their parents, these two could sohow put at ease, and often visited while I practiced or took my walks around the village. The boy was called Ror, and the girl Sari.
Resting my staff in my lap, I t their curious gazes. "Yes?"
"When’s Sorrin coming back?" The boy asked, running up and plopping down in front of the staff. "He’s supposed to teach how to be an adventurer!"
"An adventurer? Why would you want to be one of those?" I asked, slightly tilting my head.
"Isn’t it obvious? So I can be strong, just like him! He’s already fourth-level you know. He said one more quest, and he’s going to be promoted to Gold rank!"
"That’s right! And Tana’s supposed to show so magic," the girl added.
Her shy nature did little to quell the excited wag in her tail, and watching her try to pin it down ward my heart. It hadn’t been so long ago I was the sa, though that felt like a lifeti ago. Now, I just felt heavy and tired, my every breath tinged with longing sorrow.
"Aren’t you an adventurer too?" the boy asked suddenly, "Did you ever kill a dragon? Sorrin says they’re the toughest things in the world!"
My breath fell short, my hands tightening around the folds of my skirt. "Yes," I managed to whisper through the tautness of my chest.
It wasn’t the mory of the dragon that weighed on , but what it had done, what it had taken. The dragon had allowed the Curse Demon to appear, which set in motion the events that led to the shattering of my soul, the cause of my heroic fall and full enslavent, and Fyren’s betrayal. My heart squeezed in pain as I thought of the tall, broad-shouldered warrior, his massive greatsword on one shoulder, and his hand extended toward . He’d promised to protect , to stand by no matter what. I didn’t care if he were a demon, angel, or whatever his amulet made him, I simply longed for his comforting presence.
"Please don’t cry," Ror said, puffing out his chest. "Even though dragons are scary, I’ll get strong enough to protect you. That’s a promise!"
I froze as the girl crawled onto the stump, her knees against mine, her small face creased in worry. " too! I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again!"
"Again?" I asked, brushing a tear from my cheek.
Sari nodded emphatically and reached out a hand, pressing it against my chest. I froze, shocked by both her unexpected touch and the warmth flowing from her tiny fingers.
"Right here," she said, "I can see it. Like the purple vase, only it’s glowing."
"Hey, didn’t I say sorry already? How was I supposed to know it would shatter?" the boy protested.
She stuck her tongue out at him, making his ears lay flat against his head in irritation. A surreal warmth blossod deep in my heart, and I felt the corners of my lips twitch. Even bickering, their eyes sparkled vivaciously, filled with a deep love. The siblings were closer than anyone I’d seen and were never more than a few feet from each other.
"Does your mother know you can see things like that?" I asked.
The little Wolfkin girl nodded, smiling up at . "Yup! She said I shouldn’t...oh." her face fell. "I, um, shouldn’t tell anyone, or they might try and hurt ."
"Don’t worry," I murmured, smoothing a lock of hair out of her crestfallen face. "I won’t tell anyone. I’m like you, actually. I can see things others can’t."
"Really?" She brightened imdiately, leaning forward until she practically climbed into my lap.
"That’s right. And you should listen to your mother, or you really will get hurt."
"Like you?" Her eyes were as wide as saucers.
I flinched, my tail stiffening and eyes growing wet once more. "Just like ."
They stayed there for another hour, talking, laughing, and running around the clearing while I sat and watched. Sothing about the boy’s mannerisms struck , teasing a long-suppressed mory from the recesses of my mind, of another boy and his little sister.
"Ror, what would you do if Sari were in trouble?" I asked.
"Save her," he answered imdiately. Caught by the solemnity of my voice, the two settled down, sitting before the stump again.
"But what if she was cursed and you couldn’t? What would you do to save her?"
Again, the answer was automatic. "Anything."
"And What if it ant asking a demon for help?"
"A demon?" Sari asked, her ears lying flat in fear.
Ror scrunched up his brow, looking at evenly. "I thought I said ’anything.’"
His surety caught off guard, sending small butterflies scattering through my stomach. "And would you hate the demon afterward?"
"Of course not! Not if she saved Sari, that is. I might be afraid of it, because everyone knows demons are evil, but I couldn’t hate it. Unless it tried to eat us afterward. Then I might hate it."
"You... wouldn’t hate it?" I whispered, barely audible even to their beastkin ears.
But that boy in the village had hated ! I could see it in his eyes, from the way he scowled and reacted once he saw my horns. Even though I had saved his sister from the basilisk’s curse, he had rejected with the rest of the village, condemning their cursed to death. And Why had the Brithlite nobles rejected ? And the other heroes? And what about the priests and mages in my early days at the Divine Throne? Why...why did Fyren leave? Why did Soltair abandon ?
The questions swirled around in my mind, growing louder and louder until I squeezed my eyes shut, tears streaming down my cheeks and sobs rocking my shoulders. They had to hate . They had to. Else...why did it hurt so much? Why was I so alone?
Demons are evil.
Ror’s words, uttered just seconds before, reverberated through the darkness. Demons are evil. Demons are feared. Demons are hated. And I was a demon.
No matter what I did, or who I beca, nothing would change that. It was my blood, tail, and horns. It was the touch of Fate coursing through my soul, the power of a fallen goddess. That was simply who I was.
"You’re not a demon," Sari said, reaching up to touch my cheek. Her fingers ca away wet with my tears, and she hesitated. "Well, at least, I guess that’s what you are. But this..." she said, pressing her hand against my breast, "this is who you are. And I think that’s different."
The girl’s words bore the weight of her sole decade of experience, drawing a line that only a child could. The shadows in my heart tried to dismiss them, drowning them out with a host of self-deprecating truths. I was hated, I was forgotten, I was worthless, I was-
"Loved."
Fate’s voice cut through my anguish, bringing with it mories of Thron’s warmth, Korra’s smile, and Elise’s tender hand. Of the loyalty of the hundreds of soldiers I’d fought beside, and the gratitude of ten thousand n, won, and children I had healed and protected.
I wasn’t a demon, slave, or even a hero. I was a girl lost in the dark, hurt, scared, and alone. The thought was strangely liberating, as though I’d finally begun to understand myself. Sari, in all of her innocence, was right. It wasn’t about what I was, but who I was, and, perhaps more importantly, who I could beco.
It wasn’t much, simply a slight thinning in the murk of my darkness, but it was enough to reveal the next step. It beckoned to , but I hesitated to take it. It would an leaving the comfort of my sorrows and traveling into unfamiliar territory. It would an change, with all of its pain and suffering.
Sowhere in the shadowy confines of my soul, where sorrow ruled and terror reigned, a single link in the endless chain of despair broke. I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t give in to the hopeless despair of the past, where even the slightest touch caused to flinch. My mories were a prison as sure as any warehouse, my trauma as heavy as any tal. And so, I had to take it, that first, small step. I would be free.
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