CHAPTER 807: THE PRICE OF FREEDOM

The luster of my aura intensified, stars swirling around me in a cyclone of glittering golden light. In the storm, a silhouette took shape. A heartbeat later, a powerful presence gripped the cathedral, dispelling the mist.

"Emlica," I greeted, holding my staff horizontally, clutched in two hands.

Emlica looked around, lips pursed in a frown. Her gaze focused on the shard, then on me.

"Not much for a cathedral, is it?" she asked.

"The elves are...modest," I said.

She harrumphed, returning her gaze to the shard. "Our time is wasting. Are you prepared?"

I nodded, stepping back amid my friends. They were watching Emilca carefully. Gayron, especially, seemed wary of the translucent mage.

"Then allow me a few minutes. This is going to require a lot of mana, so don’t be alarmed," she warned me. "And before you ask, it’s going to take the same to bring you home. Plan for five minutes, and a good third, maybe even half, of your mana."

"That much?" I gasped.

She ignored me, raising both her hands. Golden strands erupted from her palms, slithering like serpents toward the shard. They dug into it, tapping it like needles punching into a waterskin. Golden radiance rose around her, overwhelming my aura as it encircled the four of us, five including Fable. I gasped, putting a hand to my chest as Emlica began to draw on my mana, drawing hard and deep.

"I don’t like this," Fyren said, crossing his arms.

I took a deep breath, but it was impossible to calm myself with so much mana flowing out of me. Still, I turned to him, even though we’d already discussed this. Any distraction was good, now.

"I know. But it must be done. I’ve maintained Silent Stars every time we’ve discussed it, including now. I’ll cast it again the moment we arrive, so there’s no way they should be prepared for us," I said.

"Even so, since when have things ever gone to plan?"

"Oh, don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her," Korra said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and hugging me from the side.

Fyren shook his head. "You and the apostle are hardly dependable. You’re far too impulsive and rash to take care of someone as timid as Xiviyah. The Life Hero, on the other hand..." he nodded at R’lissea. "I’m leaving her in your care."

R’lissea nodded back, smiling faintly. "I’ll do what I can. I’ve been practicing a lot, after all."

"I am too dependable," Korra muttered.

Her arm slid off my shoulder as she stalked away, grumbling. Gayron caught her hand before she could cross the intangible threshold of Emilca’s spell, pulling her back.

"He’s right about being impulsive," he said wryly. "Didn’t you say you had to stay within the circle when it finishes to teleport? Don’t wander off now."

Korra grunted. "Whatever."

As the minutes drew by, and the rest of our gathered allies offered us their encouragement, a tingle swept over me. I shivered, drawing closer to Fable. He seemed equally unsettled, snorting and kneading his paws against the floor. The stars encircling us fell to the ground like rain, morphing into a complex sequence of runes.

"It’s time," Emlica said, stepping into the forming magic circle. "Given the strength of your soul, I’ll be forced back to Haven in fifteen minutes or so. That leaves you ten to find this Nithalee character and convince her to help. If you don’t return in time, you’ll be trapped on the Southern Continent."

The air began to hum as the magic circle exploded with light, swelling to a roar like rushing winds. I shielded my eyes, meeting Fyren’s gaze above the glare. His lips formed words, and though I couldn’t hear them, I could feel his intentions through the Primordial Mark. May fate guide you.

The world turned gold, and then black, and suddenly, I was falling. My thoughts jumbled together, breaking any coherent stream apart. A violent bout of nausea swept over me, curdling my stomach, but even as I started to wretch, my senses detached from my body. There was a brief moment of quiet, cold and unsettling, before everything snapped back.

My feet touched solid ground, and I stumbled forward, falling to my knees. The darkness gave way to flowing currents of stars. Something soft and warm pressed against my back, supporting me, and Fable’s scent encompassed me. I latched onto him, feeling his fur between my fingers.

I blinked frantically, struggling to regain my vision. But even as the stars retreated, baring the world around us, I was struck by a sense of peace and quiet. The voices that had filled my mind were gone. Fyren, Borealis, the demons–there was nothing but a faint pulsing warmth deep within the primordial mark. The only individual I still felt connected with was Fable.

A sudden pang of sorrow struck a chord within me, soft yet visceral. Quiet hadn’t been the right description for it, for that implied peace. But there was no peace in the emptiness inside. No, I felt hollow and...lonely. Vulnerable.

As frightening as the demons were, and as harsh as their emotions and violence were, I knew their thoughts. They alone were the only beings in this world that I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, had no intention of betraying me. I could trust others, like Korra, Elise, and R’lissea, but the demons...the demons I knew. And now they were gone.

That thought terrified me, more than I ever imagined possible. But before I could begin to process the loss, a heavy weight settled on my body and soul. My heart was trembling, struggling to beat, and my chest grew so tight that breathing was all but impossible. The sensation was eerily similar to the horrifying effects of the soul binder, save that it impacted my entire body, not just the soul.

As I panted weakly, swooning dizzily. The stars began to dissipate, revealing the place we’d teleported to, but I couldn’t concentrate enough to register what I was seeing.

Suddenly, a gentle wave of cool air ghosted over my skin. It seeped into my body, penetrating my soul. The oppressive air lifted, and my chest loosened, allowing me to take greedy gulps of air. In seconds, my mind was clear, and I was able to recognize the soothing air as one of Emlica’s spells.

Had that been the power of the World Barrier? I shivered, hugging myself. It had been worse than the soul binder. No wonder the remnant claimed invasion under it was impossible.

With my senses renewed, I looked around. Our small party was scattered in front of a shard of omniscience, inside one of the most beautiful cathedrals I’d ever seen. The walls and floor were white tile, painted with delicate patterns as blue as the depths of the sea. The bottom point of the shard floated an inch above a tranquil pool of water, raised off the ground on a small dais. Life-sized statues of warriors and mages surrounded the pool, each a fountain releasing streams of water into grooves that wound across the floor, exiting at regular intervals at the edge, against the walls.

The room itself was circular, two hundred feet tall and half as wide. The walls were lined with statues of the gods, each towering thirty feet tall and glowing with inner light. Cubicle-like rooms, separated by counters, book shelves, and cushioned seating, formed a perimeter around the shard. Adventurers sat and waited, perusing books, conversing in low voices, or staring at the ground. Priests moved throughout the hall, murmuring to each other, speaking with adventurers, or cleaning the shelves and fountains.

Our arrival was heralded by a surge of mana so powerful it shook the building. Every eye snapped to us, faces going pale as they felt the power of the mana rippling around us. A few aftershocks chased after the first, causing the water in the fountains and streams to slosh across the tile and blowing books across the ground.

The more seasoned adventurers, the strongest sixth level, were on their feet in an instant, weapons in hand. The guards weren’t much slower, surrounding themselves in holy auras and closing in. They weren’t particularly hostile, only surprised, reacting by instinct. It didn’t seem to occur to them that anyone but their own forces would, or perhaps even could, teleport using their shards.

"Damn," Korra said, rubbing her head. "I hate teleporting."

R’lissea nodded. "It never gets easier."

I was relieved to see they were as disoriented as I was. Gayron, who had likely never experienced teleporting before, had also fallen, yet had regained his feet on his own. His tail twitched in agitation as he looked around, his sword already in hand.

"What is the meaning of this?" A priest demanded, striding toward us. He wore azure robes emblazoned with the symbol of the water god. The tassels on the hem of his robes marked him as a particularly high-ranking member of the clergy. "I wasn’t informed of any arriving–"

He choked on his words, eyes bulging as he took in our party. Or, more accurately, Gayron, I, and Fable. He stumbled back, pointing with a trembling finger.

"D-demons!" he cried.

I flinched, tail curling around Fable’s leg as the cry echoed off the vaulted ceiling. Korra had no such hesitations, lunging forward as she called out orders.

"R’lissea, get Xiviyah on her feet. Gayron, take those adventurers."

R’lissea was at my side in an instant, taking me by the hands. "You alright?"

"I think so. My head hurts," I said, wincing as she gently pulled me away from Fable.

A pillar of fire erupted to my left, accompanied by pained screams.

"Can you walk?"

I nodded, taking a shaky step. With every breath, the trembling lessened, and my stance became more sure. Behind me, Gayron’s aura multiplied, emanating from three separate locations. Flames spread, filling half the building. A shockwave filled with Korra’s aura rippled over my wards.

More explosions, more screams. I fought the urge to turn, squeezing my eyes shut as the screams dwindled, then died entirely. My stomach twisted with guilt. Their deaths were my fault. The decision to come here had guaranteed that lives would be lost. Innocent lives. The only thing they’d done was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn’t deserve to die like this, sacrifices for a war they didn’t choose to fight.

"You’re pale," R’lissea said worriedly, touching my cheek. "Are you sure you’re alright?"

I took a deep breath. "I...I hate it. So many people are going to be hurt or killed."

"It’s the cost of war," she replied softly. "There’s no way around it."

"I know. But I..." I shook my head, firming my resolve. "No regrets."

She nodded, and I was surprised to see her blink away tears, just like I was. My expression softened, and I covered her hand with mine, holding it against my cheek.

"We can’t fail, now," I said, letting her go and turning, facing the entrance. "The only way we honor their lives is by succeeding and bringing an end to the tyranny of the gods. Blood has always been the price of freedom."