The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 1056: Home among the Stars

For five days, I spent every waking hour in Haven studying under Emlica. Occasionally, Nithalee would join us, or Korra would drop by, a breath of fresh air from the rigorous training put upon me by the remnant librarian.

"Come on, cheer up a bit. I thought you loved magic!" Korra said as she half-carried me from the library at the end of the fifth day.

"I do, but...she’s merciless," I mumbled, shivering to myself. "She doesn’t even let me read the books first! It’s just ’cast this way,’ and ’fix this rune here.’ How can I have fun when she makes it such a chore? Sure, I’m progressing way faster this way, but still!"

She nodded sagely. "That’s why I gave up on magic. It was satisfying when it came together, but I’m not one for sitting still."

"I can’t believe you even made it to seventh level," I muttered, shaking my head. "You’re just like Luke. You’d rather go to the cemetery than a library."

"At least at the cemetery you can fight ghosts."

I joined her giggle this time, but it dwindled as Gayron flew down beside us. He gave me a reproachful look, and I gracefully drew back from Korra, letting him take her arm.

"Hey!" she protested, squirming away. "Maybe I want to hold Xiviyah’s hand."

"It’s alright, I don’t mind," I said, though my twitching tail must have betrayed my thoughts.

She looked about to argue, but something in Gayron’s eyes caused her to turn, her grip tightening on him. "What is it?"

He breathed a long, weary sigh. His tail drooped, and her brow creased.

Korra turned, mock worry creeping into her tone. "Gayron, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Don’t get all sensitive and pout on me because I didn’t want to hold your hand."

His lips twitched. "Korra...really? Do you think I’m so insecure?"

"Maybe."

He rolled his eyes, and his lips parted. But they pursed again, and he shook his head, keeping quiet.

We crossed the bridge to the Citadel, passing Gathrin and stepping through the gates. The city had evolved with the rest of the realm, the streets clean and orderly. The fountains gurgled, and the statues gleamed, the markets open and free. None of the rubble or tarnish from ages past persisted. Even the windows gleamed, lit from within by light crystals and everburning candles.

But most surprising were the Fatesworn. They wandered the city in groups of twos and threes, viewing the markets and exploring the streets. It wasn’t just the mortals, but the occasional demon, too. They mingled with the other Fatesworn as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if they were just the same as any other human or elf.

"What are they all doing here?" Korra asked with the same curiosity that gripped me.

Gayron shrugged. "No idea. Maybe they’re bored with their fortress."

"Look!" Korra said, lighting up and pointing. "There’s food at that stall!"

At the next intersection, the streets converged on a small plaza. There was a fountain in the middle, spraying three ribbons of water into a glassy pool, but that wasn’t what drew my eye. Like many of the markets and plazas, it had a few open-aired stalls scattered around the outside.

But unlike the rest of the city, one of them was more than just a relic of older times. An elderly remnant floated behind the counter, baskets of exotic fruits and unnamed vegetables hanging from the wooden supports and resting on the counter. A small crowd of Fatesworn had gathered around, talking excitedly as he passed them out without charge or price.

My nose twitched as the smell of baked bread drifted through the street, borne on the astral breeze. A thin thread of smoke rose over the peaked roofs a block over. My stomach was rumbling audibly, and I blushed as Korra and Gayron looked at me.

"The hell is all this?" Korra asked, her eyes dancing. "They have food here?"

"It’s like a real city," Gayron said, rubbing his chin.

"And, by the sound of it," she said, giving me a sly look. "It’s time for dinner. I think we have time to check it out, don’t you?"

I hesitated, giving the Fatesworn a tentative look. But they didn’t seem to notice us at all. They were laughing, chatting, and trying the unfamiliar fruits the remnant offered.

"Come on," Korra said, snatching my hand as she Gayron passed by. "Let’s find where that smell’s coming from."

We wound our way through the city, finding more delights and curiosities the deeper we went. It wasn’t just food; other amenities of the city were up as well. An armored woman waited outside a blacksmith shop while a remnant worked her sword on a grindstone, imbuing it with magic as he sharpened the blade. Down the next road, an elf sat at a cobbler’s, getting new boots made.

"How did we miss all this?" Korra asked, looking around with wonder. "Maybe we have spent a little too long at the arena."

I couldn’t agree more, but what filled me with even more joy than the sudden liveliness of the Citadel was the remnants. They walked the streets, talking with mortals and each other, laughing and sharing stories with all the enthusiasm of proud grandparents. Never had I seen them so animated before. So many had stripped of their armor and weapons, dressing in the plain clothes of their guests and visitors, putting down their lonely vigils and enjoying the company. There must have been over half the remnants in the entire realm gathered together.

I was so distracted, I nearly missed the massive building with its vaulted ceiling and enormous hearth. It was at the center of a crossroads, smelling strongly of baked bread, roasting meats, and other warm, hearty foods. On the far side of the four-way intersection, a grand hall stood with its wide doors open, dozens of patrons inside enjoying food at long tables.

"A restaurant?" Korra gasped, "No way!"

Gayron and I exchanged looks as she dragged us both inside, practically bouncing on her toes.

"Where do we sit?" she asked, looking around.

"Xiviyah! You made it!" a young-looking remnant girl said, gliding up to us. "Welcome to the Gilded Hall."

"Villie?" I asked, my tail stiffening in surprise. "What are you doing here? And wearing a dress?"

She giggled, spreading her skirts in a curtsey. "Isn’t it cute? Invika asked me if I wanted to wait tables for everyone. It’s so much fun! Please, come in, come in. It’s the busy time, between training shifts, but I’ll find you a seat!"

She took my hand, pulling me from Korra with an eagerness that made me smile, leading us to a table near the great hearth. A ten-foot-long evolved demon of the feline persuasion lay before the flames, his golden fur flickering with stars. It yawned as we approached, sitting up with a lazy swish of its tail. Villie dropped my hand and ran to it, petting it on the head.

I rubbed my horn. "Who’d have thought you’d get so close to a demon?"

She turned, putting on a pout. "Tamarine isn’t just a demon. She’s nice! And so soft..." she nuzzled him with her cheek, a dreamy look on her face.

Korra cleared her throat. "So, er, how do we order?"

Villie started with a jump, smoothing her skirts. "R-right, sorry. Please, don’t tell anyone I got distracted again."

Korra giggled. "Fine, we won’t, just let us order already."

She brightened. "Just tell me what you want! Invika can cook almost anything."

I slowly sat down, my tail swishing beneath the bench. "Um, I’ll be fine with something light."

"No way you’re getting away with some soup tonight!" Korra declared. "We’ll have whatever they’re having," she said, gesturing grandly at the table next to ours, where some humans were tearing into an enormous roast bird packed with seasoning and steamed vegetables.

Villie nodded and glided off, leaving us alone at the table. I watched her go, smiling to myself, but as I turned back to Korra, I found her staring hard at me.

"What?"

She pursed her lips. "I thought you’d be more excited."

"I am!" I said, though it came out as more of a question. "Really, I am. But it’s a lot to take in. I guess it never occurred to me that this would happen. But it makes me happy."

I smiled gently, looking around at the restaurant again. Of course the Fatesworn were enjoying themselves. Why wouldn’t they? This was their home now, too. Haven had always been my quiet place, my escape from the world. But this... if this was what it was becoming, it wasn’t so bad, either. Maybe change wasn’t always such a bad thing.

We stayed in the city for a few more hours, enjoying the food and wandering the city. From speaking with the remnants and a few friendly soldiers, we learned this had evolved over the last few weeks, as the Fatesworn worked up their courage and began exploring the realm. Slowly, the remnants had warmed up to them, starting with sharing stories, but it had ended here, as they shook the cobwebs off of skills and experience they hadn’t used in millennia. After all, what need did a remnant have for cooking? Or working with physical gear?

But all that really mattered to me was that they were happy. For Fatesworn and Remnant alike, Haven had truly become home.