The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 706: Gifts

Elaine giggled. "Let’s keep that between us, shall we?"

"No wonder the place seemed a little dated," R’lissea said, tapping her chin. Her eyes widened as Elaine raised an eyebrow, and she quickly added, "I’m sure it was in style when you had it built!"

"That it did. The old rustic feel was a little less old when I had it remodeled last. I do hope she enjoys it. When she’s around, that is. Perhaps she’ll use it as an embassy, or find another use for it."

"Embassy?" R’lissea tilted her head.

"It seems I’ve said too much." Elaine covered her mouth with a playful wink. "The emperor won’t be pleased if he hears about that. He’s so serious with his plans and all."

I regarded her again, taking a seat as she offered it. This Elaine was nothing like the warrior I’d spent an eternity watching fighting and dying. Her attitude now almost matched her seemingly young exterior, making it easy to overlook the hundreds of years behind her youthful face. Even if she seemed in her mid-twenties, I couldn’t lower my guard, even without the teased hints about Elise.

"How are you finding the city?" Elaine asked me.

I looked at my lap. "I haven’t gone out much. It’s...scary out there."

She pursed her lips. "Really? Has the reception been that cold?"

"IT’s because she won’t go anywhere without Fable and Fyren staring over her shoulder. It’s natural people feel uncomfortable," R’lissea said.

I flushed slightly. That wasn’t entirely my fault, as they stuck with me no matter what I said.

Elaine frowned. "I can’t say it surprises me to hear that. This empire has long since conquered our monsters, so seeing one walking brazenly must put people on edge. Perhaps that is why the Emperor wished me to reward you in his place."

"He did?" I asked.

She nodded and tapped her spatial ring, withdrawing a letter. She set it on the table. R’lissea leaned over and read it before turning it to me. I skimmed the contents, ignoring the flowery language and finding the important bits near the bottom. After a moment, I sighed. Basically, the emperor apologized for not recognizing our contributions during the commemorative banquet and asked Elaine to make it up to us. It was always the same. No matter what I accomplished, it was too much to receive recognition. I wouldn’t have appreciated it anyway, but...

"I don’t know why I expected anything else," I muttered, rubbing my horn.

Elaine nodded. "The treasures he wished to give you are beyond what can be offered during these trying times. If he’d offered you his thanks in public, the nobles would cause an uproar."

My hand froze. "Not because I’m a demonkin?"

"Gods, no!" she said. "I would never agree to help anyone, even the emperor, slight someone who personally saved my life. And you did save it, for I have no doubt I would have fallen were it not for your guidance. I believe you said as much when the dragons first emerged."

I nodded. "It was...close. I’m just glad we survived at all."

"Well, as our emperor expressed, we are more than just glad. Here, for you," Elaine said, nodding at R’lissea.

The raven-haired woman withdrew a gold ring of three strands braided together and fixed with a sapphire carved in an eye. It glimmered softly, emitting an eighth-level aura. She set it in R’lissea’s palm and closed the elf’s fingers over it. The enchantments were unlike anything I’d seen, drawing on runes commonly used in fate, spatial, and magic spells.

"The Sorcerer’s Eye," she said quietly. "It’s a treasure forged by an emperor some five hundred years before I was born. I understand you have difficulty casting anything besides Life magic spells quickly. Perhaps this can help."

R’lissea turned the ring over as if in a daze, her eyes reflecting the sapphire.

"What does it do?" I tentatively asked.

"It allows the user to store unfinished magic circles to withdraw later. The magic can be withdrawn with a thought, taking only a single rune to complete. It can hold an eighth-level spell, two seventh-level spells, four sixth-level spells, and so on."

R’lissea gasped. "This is too precious for me to accept!"

"Nonsense. Without you, tens of thousands of lives would have been lost to the undead hero. Were our resources not pressed by the demons and the church’s plots, I would have urged the emperor to give you more."

"A worthy gift," Fyren said with a nod. "I know of few items more useful to powerful mages in all the realms."

"That’s right. Please accept it," Elaine said.

"But I..." R’lissea bit her lip, squeezing the ring in her fist. "...thank you."

"As for you, demon, there is little we could give an immortal being who relies on infernal mana and his own fearsome weapons. However, as long as you take a human form, you rely on weapons. Your current sword is powerful for a common adventurer, but hardly appropriate for your strength."

Elaine withdrew a crimson blade from her spatial ring, setting it on the table. It was massive, about as long as I was tall, and radiating enough heat that it scorched the table. The blade was five inches thick at the base and tapered sharply into a point. The hand was shaped in the image of a lava dragon, with its front limbs extended as the cross guard and hind limbs clutching a ruby as the pommel. The weapon was saturated with mana, burning as brightly as Fyren’s infernal soul. It was, without a doubt, the strongest sword I’d seen aside from Elaine’s obsidian blade and the Divine Artifacts of the heroes.

Fyren didn’t hesitate as he picked it up, admiring the blade. "A beautiful gift. I can feel the weight of countless battles within."

"It was the first sword I received upon attaining ninth-level," Elaine explained. "I’ve since inherited the legendary blade of my master and have no need of it. May it serve you as thanks for your efforts in fighting the dragons."

"I moved only to protect the Oracle, yet I accept it all the same," Fyren replied.

She nodded and turned her gaze to me. Butterflies filled my stomach as she tapped her ring again.

"We owe the most to you, Xiviyah. I fear few, myself included, understand the price you paid to save us."

She set a small, orange ball on the table. It glowed like it was made of molten lava, emitting a pressure that made my chest tighten. There was enough mana in it to rival a demon gate. It was only after a second that I realized it was actually a fruit.

"It took me some time to scrounge this up from an old ducal family. The progenitor of their house was a renowned beast tamer who specialized in growing treasures for bonded monsters. This fruit came from his prized tree, capable of bearing only one every hundred years. It is said to be able to force a powerful mutation in any monster that consumes it."

I glanced at Fable, finding him staring hungrily at the fruit. When I tried to touch it, however, my hand darted back, fingertips stinging.

"H-hot," I cried, smothering my hand in my skirt.

"Ah, forgive me. It’s grown with the mana that emanated from the dragon’s prison, thus strongly aligned with the fire attribute. I forget that despite your strength, your body is fragile."

Elaine plucked it off the table and tossed it to Fable. The wolf caught it and swallowed it with a slight whine. We all watched him expectantly, but when nothing happened, Elaine shrugged.

"It will take time, but the results will be worth it. Or so they assured me," she said. "Regardless, I have something else for you as well. The Emperor originally asked me to give you something akin to the gift for R’lissea, but I couldn’t bear giving you a gift that enabled you to fight better. That might encourage you to enter harm’s way more often, something you simply cannot do. As fighting with the dragons showed, you’re too frail to participate in high-level battles."

She laid a large tome on the table. Fyren gasped, standing up with a start. His chair clattered away, almost falling before he caught it.

"You dare?" he asked almost reverently.

She smiled and pushed it across the table to me. It was older than any book I’d seen in the Library of Light at the Divine Throne, matching the age of the items in the archives. I touched it hesitantly, tracing the runes engraved across the cover. A tingle raced through my soul as something within the pages resonated, and a faint aura filled the room.

My hand recoiled, my tail going rigid with shock. "A ninth-level spell?" I gasped.

She nodded. "It’s one of five such tomes in our entire empire, and a fate spell, no less. I’m afraid its history, name, and even contents are unknown as we’ve never had anyone capable of learning it. I pray you’ll find it useful."

"What once was shall come again," I whispered.

She leaned forward. "What was that?"

I looked up, meeting her eyes. My heart was racing, my words shaky as I explained, "It’s the name of the spell. Or, at least, that’s what the runes say. ’What once was shall come again.’"