The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 678: Broken Seal

As soon as the vision unfolded into a cavern, I looked up, half-expecting to see a dragon. The roof was several hundred feet overhead, no sign of anything unusual-- dragons or otherwise. The stone was dark obsidian, reflecting the orange glow of lava. The entrance was some distance behind me, girded with ancient stonework. More walls, pillars, and raised turrets rose across the cavern, forming layers of ramparts defending the far wall from the entrance. I couldn’t distinguish what lay in the center, but it radiated a familiar aura.

The orange glow came from many streams of viscous lava oozing from holes in the walls. Several rivers fell in slow-moving waterfalls from cracks in the ceiling. The lava flowed through thin canals only a few feet wide, passing in gutters beneath the walls. They threaded through the cavern like streams in a garden, before disappearing into the handful of chasms lacerating the floor.

There were only a handful of guards scattered across the network of walls. Some slumped against the towers; others polished weapons and armor already gleaming. Two sat across from each other with their shields stacked across their knees, forming a makeshift table they played cards over. A thick layer of dust and ash smothered everything save for the main walkways and patrol routes.

A small group of soldiers clustered around a small guard house behind the outermost wall. I willed myself closer.

"What do you think, Cap?" a fourth-level archer asked, looking at the only sixth-level solider in the cavern.

The woman shrugged, tossing her hair. "’bout what?"

The archer rolled his eyes. "The demons and all. Think we’ll actually surrender?"

"They won one battle!" another man said. "My cousin was one of the few who made it out, and he said they showed up out of nowhere. Crossed Tormod’s breach in a few days, he said. Gave us no time to prepare."

"No they didn’t," The archer retorted. "Not even the Imperial Guard can march it that fast." fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"Either way, the city fell," the captain said, rubbing her chin. "But it does seem a little much to jump to a surrender. I met Lady Elaine once, and I can’t imagine anyone threatening her. Even demons."

The third soldier leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "My cousin said they had a huge bird with them—big ’nough to blot out the heavens. I ain’t seen no bird with em nor heard about it. Maybe they’re plotting something."

The archer leaned forward, speaking quickly. "What if they figure out about the seal? We could finally see some action!"

The Captain scoffed. "The only thing left to ’figure out’ are a few dusty legends. It’s been seventy years since the last idiot came blundering into here, looking for some lost treasure."

The soldier nodded, glaring at the archer. "That’s right! My cousin said–"

"Enough about your cousin!" a very irritated voice said. "Can’t you get out and live for yourself?"

The archer and captain started to nod, before all three froze, turning to look behind them. I followed, equally started. I hadn’t felt anyone else approach.

An inquisitor leaned against the wall, trimming his nails with his dagger. It was a long, curved blade that glimmered in the orange illumination and made my skin crawl. Instead of the traditional white, his clothing was pitch black, blending in with the obsidian stonework. My eyes had a hard time finding where the obsidian ended and his flowing cloak began. Were it not for his seventh-level soul burning like a sun, following his movements at all would have been impossible.

In a flash, all three were on their feet. I had little hope of them putting up a fight, and what little I had died as they snapped to attention with sharp salutes.

"Forgive our lack of decorum, Inquisitor."

The inquisitor shrugged, rubbing his blade on his cloak. "Don’t much care for tradition. I find it just gets in the way of doing what needs to be done."

"I’m not sure I understand. But what are you doing here? Are you with the embassy? We weren’t informed of any official visits." the captain said, glancing at her companions. They looked just as bewildered.

The inquisitor held up his blade, admiring the mirror-like shine. "What do you think?"

"It’s a beautiful blade," the captain said.

"Yes, isn’t it?" The inquisitor’s lips curled in a predatory grin. "It has to be. It’s got a date with a very pretty throat in a little bit."

The guards stepped back. The captain touched her throat, swallowing hard.

The inquisitor tilted his head. "Oh, not you, though you’re rather fine-looking yourself. It’s meant for..." His forehead wrinkled. "Actually, that’s not a bad thought. If everything goes well, I won’t get to blood it. Then I’d have done all this work for nothing."

His predatory grin returned. "Thank you, Jazelle. I was planning on using a spell, but I think I’ll give you the honor of doing it personally."

"H-how do you know her name?" the archer asked, drawing a dagger from his belt with shaking fingers.

His eyes narrowed. "I know all of your names, Rick, and your schedules. Including the fact your shift just started an hour ago. No one will be here to check in for at least five. That gives me plenty of time to enjoy this."

The captain’s eyes widened, and she started to shout. Her sword only made it halfway out of her scabbard.

I turned away as several screams echoed off the cavern walls. The other guards took notice, but more inquisitors emerged from the darkness, slaughtering them with ruthless efficiency. In seconds, the cavern was quiet again.

I drifted past the corpses to the place at the center of the fortification. It was empty and open, a circle perhaps a hundred feet in diameter. Dozens of thick circles of runes descended inward, carved into the obsidian ground. The formations were ancient, yet I still sensed ninth-level mana from the core circuit and spent a second studying it. The sheer breadth and diversity of the runes were staggering, tenfold more than the next most intricate enchantment I’d seen.

In the center of the circles was a large statue carved entirely from translucent ruby crystal. It glimmered with flickering light like a fire had been lit inside. The surrounding mana was so dense it made the air shimmer like it evaporating water vapor.

The statue was a beautiful depiction of two dragons coiling around each other, emerging from a sea of fire. They were long and sinewy, more like traditional Eastern dragons of my homeworld than the winged monsters of the West. It was fifteen feet tall and exuded a powerful pressure that caused the inquisitors’ breathing to tighten.

The four inquisitors arrived at the same time, led by Lord Evlon. Aside from the assassin with the knife, I recognized the ones who had restrained R’lissea and the emperor. They fanned out around the statue.

"Is this really it? All that for a statue?" the inquisitor with the dagger asked.

Lord Evlon silenced him with a glare. "Now is not the time to make light, Trethdon. Countless lives hanging in the balance, including those we are about to sacrifice."

"Not to mention our rendezvous with the Father," another added. "I’m still not certain we’ll be able to handle blackmailing a Ninth-level mage."

"We’ll do it because we have to," Evlon said grimly.

He took a deep breath and raised his hand toward the statue, concentrating his mana into a small ball that floated an inch before his palm.

As he channeled more and more mana, he reached into his robe and withdrew a scroll bound by crimson twine. He flicked it, and the ribbon fell away, letting the scroll unfurl.

Lord Evlon began reading from the scroll. With every word, his aura increased. Mana flowed from the chamber, concentrating around him. The other inquisitors shifted as their own mana was affected, siphoned from their souls, albeit to a lesser degree.

As the chant came to an end, Lord Evlon thrust his arm forward. The final word sounded, and the ball of mana, now saturated by the dragons’ aura, shot into the ruby statue.

For a moment, nothing happened. Evlon frowned, and turned to the others, but as he opened his mouth, the statue released a pure, bell-like note. The noise echoed around the cavern, growing louder until it sounded like a dragon’s roar. A pulse of mana erupted from the statue, and the noise died away.

A sharp crack caused everyone to jump, and the inquisitors leaned in intently. There was another crack, and I finally saw it.

Dark lines spiderwebbed across the statue. The ruby splintered and began to crumble, the shards dissipating before they hit the ground.

Another dragon’s roar split the air, and Lord Evlon turned sharply.

"Out. Now!" he roared, launching himself toward the entrance.

The others followed hot on his heels, casting curious glances behind as the statue continued to crack. The ambient mana went berserk, sucked inward in a whirlpool of currents. My soul tingled at the sheer density, and a wave of nausea overcame me. My vision dimmed, the dragon’s roaring fading into the background.

I lurched awake on the bed in the slave quarters, gasping for air. My soul quivered as a deep sense of dread clutched my heart.

"I’m alright," I mumbled, hugging Fable as he checked me out again. "It’s just...strong. Even though it was only a vision...."

He whined faintly, pawing at my leg, and I shook my head.

"No, nothing. I saw the inquisitors break the seal, but that was it. No clues or anything. I have to try again."

He cast an anxious look at the door. I sighed, rubbing his head before climbing back onto the bed.

"Yeah, even if there isn’t much time. Don’t worry, I’ll learn something. I have to."