***

Thorgoth stared at his hands, empty except for his wand. Still kneeling, his head tilted up so that his wide-eyed gaze fell on Frances.

The creases at the edges of his eyes deepened. His teeth ground together and lips twisted. Warned by the distortion of the Demon King’s handsome features, Frances ran backwards. Seizing his sword, Thorgoth lunged, the silvered steel flashing down.

A violet magic bolt hit Thorgoth first. The Demon King staggered backward. Unlike the times before, his armor didn’t glow.

Frances looked over her shoulder, finding her fiance racing towards her with his wand raised. “Mataia get out of there! Don’t stop! We’ll cover you!”

Trusting her friends, Frances turned her back on the king and ran toward her friends. Her feet felt like they were lead weights and the ground sucked on her battered boots.

Elizabeth, seeing the king continuing to gain on Frances, hefted her warhammer. With her wound, there was no way she could get close to the king and interrupt him. Unless…

The Otherworlder took a step back. She knew her hammer, having wielded it for seven years now. There had been adjustments, repairs and she’d even had to have the hammer’s head reforged, but she knew this weapon and its balance intimately.

Which is why she knew it would hit the moment her hammer’s leather handle left her hand. Propelled by her over-the-shoulder throw, her warhammer didn’t spin through the air, but seemed to roll slowly forward.

Thorgoth saw the hammer. He turned, he slashed his wand at the hammer, and nothing happened. Instead the hammer slammed into his shoulder. The heavy metal weapon went flying, while also sending the troll to the ground. He scrambled up, gasping.

Martin’s jaw dropped open. “He’s got no magic.”

Ginger raised her sword. “Mages! Musketeers! Open fire on the Demon King! Don’t you dare hit our friendlies!”

There was a brief moment where it was just the sound of Frances pounding her feet against the ground as hard as she could, desperate to put as much distance between herself and the beast gaining on her.

“Cuz get down!” Ayax shrieked a note and a thin streak of lightning arched over the ducking Frances. Thorgoth waved his wand, trying to block it. Only a weak, faded barrier materialized between himself and the troll’s spell. The lightning shattered it and struck Thorgoth’s chest.

The Demon King didn’t howl, but he did stumble as sparks flew across his armor. Even so, he kept slamming one foot over the other, somehow holding onto his wand even as he swayed from side to side.

Ginger’s pistol shot halted him in his tracks. Fired from near point-blank range, the bullet hit his armor from the side, avoiding much of the central shaped ridge and sending the king reeling. He had to step back to steady himself.

That’s when Ayax hit him with a bolt of magic. She was followed by Anriel sending an arrow that Thorgoth had to dodge. Yet the explosion from the magical arrow nearly threw the king to the ground. He only managed to halt his fall by stabbing his sword into the ground, bending the blade as a result.

Letting go of the hilt, Thorgoth took another step, onto to be hit again by a musketball. This one smashing through his weakened gauntlet and exiting out the other side of his arm. Another spell from Spinella knocked him to the side, before he was caught by Kellyanne’s fireball.

He burst out of the flames, bleeding, roaring, but more beast than monster. Still bent on going after Frances, Thorgoth kept charging forward, but he was no longer the Demon King. He was a wounded beast, dangerous but slowly dying. All the while, bullets and spells rained onto him.

Frances wasn’t sure when she stopped, but she did recall embracing Timur and turning her fiance’s face away from the sight of his father.

She watched, however, unable to tear her eyes away as Thorgoth stood, still glaring at her with his singular eye. He could no longer hold onto his wand. His armor was perforated and he bled from uncountable wounds, legs barely in a condition to support him.

Even now, Frances could see Thorgoth sneering at her, while trying to raise his wand with his ruined arm. With a sigh, the wood slipped from his grasp and the king crumpled to the ground, sprawling out onto the dirt.

Frances stared at her fallen enemy, the enemy that had brought her to Durannon and her new life. The monster that had hurt so many people, and those who she held dear.

She let her gaze linger for a moment, before she turned back to Timur and gently, but with a firm hand, pulled the love of her life away.

“Is it over?” Timur asked, his eyes shut.

“Yes it is. I’m sorry.”

Timur squeezed her hand, and when Frances looked up, she found the prince’s eyes were filled with tears, and yet he had a distant smile across his face.

“Don’t be. You did nothing wrong and I’m—We’re—going to be fine now.”

“Thank you for saving me, Mataia.”

“You saved me first,” said Timur.

Before they could speak more, bright pillars of light shone down from the ceiling. Frances found herself engulfed in one of these pillars. The soft white light however, didn’t sting. As she looked across to her friends, she realized that Elizabeth, Leila and all the remaining Otherworlders were surrounded by the same white light.

Congratulations Otherworlders. You have succeeded in your task at defeating the Demon King. As promised you will be rewarded generously for your sacrifice with gold and a blessing of luck. You will also have your choice. You may choose to stay in Durannon and live a mortal life that ends in this world. Or you may return to your homeworld of Earth.

The Otherworlder System’s voice was firm yet airy, and also vaguely familiar, though Frances couldn’t be certain. It’d been years since she’d last heard it.

What she was certain of was her choice.

“I choose to stay,” said Frances.

“I want to stay,” said Elizabeth.

Frances met her best friend’s gaze. Tears were already falling down her cheeks. Her hands shook as she whispered a prayer. Ayax, who’d rushed over to her girlfriend, embraced her tightly, letting Elizabeth lean on her.

“I’m staying.” Frances found Leila sitting on the ground, her shoulders slack. The Otherworlder’s eyes looked up, though what she sought, Frances wasn’t sure.

So be it.

Most of the Otherworlders faded into the light, except for the three that had chosen to stay. Elizabeth waved goodbye to George, who saluted her.

Stolen story; please report.

Yet, although the Otherworlders faded, the light remained around Frances, Elizabeth and Leila. Before Frances could act or try to move out of the light, the Otherworlder system’s voice sounded again.

Frances Windwhistler, Elizabeth Kim and Leila Ali, you have chosen to stay in Durannon and forego your rightful reward. As you three have served this world and its peoples we will grant you one boon each, if it is within our power.

Elizabeth froze for a moment, but her lips soon moved. “I don’t think I can return, but is there any way you can send a message to my family? Any way to let them know I’m safe and happy?”

You are correct, you cannot return to Earth. Neither will a message be possible, but there is another method. They will dream of your adventures and your life in this world. They will know why you chose to stay and that you are safe and happy. That you love them dearly. Would that be amenable?

Elizabeth could barely get the words out, and only Ayax’s arms held her up as she cried into the troll’s shoulders. “Yes!”

Leila raised her hand like it was a classroom, only to turn red and lower her arm. “Can you give those Otherworlders who truly fought and died in service to defeat the Demon King the reward anyway? I know this is a selfish request but I don’t think Jessica, Nicole or Jim should be deprived of their reward.”

On the contrary, this is an incredibly selfless request, Leila. It is granted.

Frances took a breath. It was her turn now and she needed to make sure of all the possibilities. “You can’t resurrect people right? Or undo things that have happened? Like wounds?”

I’m afraid not.

Frances swallowed. Her mind was of two thoughts, but since the system was being downright friendly, perhaps she could present her case.

“I’d like to request two boons if possible. Though, if this cannot be done for Elizabeth and Leila, then—”

We will hear you out, and only you, Frances Stormcaller. You were the one who ended the Demon King after all. And yes, you were the one who did so, even if you did not deliver the killing blow.

Frances let out a sigh. “Alright. Can you rescue my step-sister Denise somehow, or at the very least, deliver her from her parents’ influence? I don’t think my birth mother or step-father are redeemable, but I don’t believe she deserves what they will raise her to do.”

That is within our power. What is your second boon?

“Promise me that you will bring more suitable candidates the next time the system is used.”

Ah, that is not unfortunately not something we can do. We cannot determine which course the future will take, Frances Stormcaller. We find and identify potential. We did not choose you to defeat the Demon King. We merely considered that you were a candidate. You and the Otherworlders always had the choice to take charge of your fates.

Frances pursed her lips, Ivy’s Sting heavy in her hand. She didn’t really have any other things to wish for, but she also knew she didn’t want to regret giving this up. Unless…

She raised her faithful wand and her eyes suddenly widened. “Ivy, I have an idea.”

It took but a moment for her wand to read her thoughts. “Wait, are you sure? This is a fundamental change to the rules of the world!”

“How else could I prevent what happened to you?” Frances asked.

The mental hug that Ivy’s Sting hit Frances with was like a jolt of sunlight directly to her heart. The warm feeling lit Frances’s features up in a beaming smile, which broke into a giggle.

“Then I request that you make it so no Named Wand may ever be harmed or threatened into casting spells against their will. Is that something you can do?”

We cannot make Named Wands and Staves invulnerable to all harms, but we can make them so they will never be truly destroyed or coerced, unless they wish it so. Yes, that can be done.

The Otherworlder System, or its voice seemed to pause for a moment as if it was deep in thought.

A final offering, Frances Windwhistler, for your selflessness. Your actions have put Durannon on the road to peace and happiness. While there will be more conflicts, some even more devastating than this one in the far future, this will be the last Great War between humans and Alavari.

Frances looked up at the light, wide-eyed, and yet somehow not blinded by the brightness. “I thought you couldn’t predict the future?”

We cannot determine the final shape that the future decides upon. However, we can see the effects of your choices, and your wishes. Farewell, Frances, Elizabeth and Leila, long happy lives to you and your dear ones.

And with that, the light vanished, leaving the young woman looking up at the dark ceiling of Kairon-Aoun. Still smiling, Frances turned to her fiance, her amber eyes noticing her daughter flying towards them.

“You wished wisely,” said Timur, returning her smile.

Frances caressed her love’s cheek. “Thank you. I… is there anything I can do—”

“I’ll be fine. I have you, Morgan, my family and friends. I’ll get through this.”

“And I’ll be by your side,” said Frances. She and Timur opened their arms to let their daughter burrow into their embrace.

Yet above Morgan’s blabbering and relieved crying Frances heard a weak, faint cry of help.

“Timur, Morgan, hold on, do you hear that?”

“Yes, ah, duty calls.” While supporting Frances, Timur and Morgan made their way to the source of the cries.

What they found took them aback for a moment, but did not stop them from rendering aid. The trio were, after all, people who could not ignore people in need of help.

***

Sara had been sitting under guard with Titania’s soldiers. She and the rest of the camp followers had been taken under guard by the victorious Alavari. From the cheering down the Greenway and hushed whispers between the guards, she’d become aware that Thorgoth had been killed, but had heard nothing about her husband.

That was until a young, and definitely-not-an-adult harpy-troll had flown in, demanding with a shrill tone Sara’s release.

The news however, was everything that Sara feared.

Her boots slammed into the ground as she almost lost balance and landed on all fours. Scrambling forward, she fell to her knees beside her husband.

A brown-haired woman in dusty white robes, a mage, and another troll mage with black hair were doing their best to keep Helias alive.

However, there were gaping charred holes in his torso and he had only one leg remaining. Some horrible spell had dealt a mortal blow to the tauroll.

“Helias! Helias!”

Helias smiled. He looked so peaceful that she almost forgot she was looking at what remained of her husband. “Sara, you made it.”

The harpy-orc froze, hands covering her mouth. Already blinking back tears, she fell to one knee and clasped his gunpowder-blackened hand.

“Helias. I…Oh Galena.”

The tauroll took a short breath, his chest rising just so slightly. “Forgive me for asking you to come and see me in this state.”

Sara snorted. Forcing herself to smile, she brushed a loose lock of sweat-matted hair out of her husband’s eye. “Don’t be stupid. You’re my husband.”

Helias winced, his eyes examining his wife. “Are you hurt? Did they—”

Sara squeezed his hand. “I’m fine. You were right. Titania’s forces just kept us under guard until this harpy-orc took me to you.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped the general’s pale lips. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, before he forced them open. “Sara, I’m sorry.”

Sara’s mouth opened and closed, her lips pressing and twisting as she tried to form something to say. She looked up to the brown-haired woman who was keeping her husband alive. The healer mage was already shaking her head.

Sara, her breath catching in her throat, forced herself to not break down, to breathe calmly without letting the emotions in her chest explode. “Don’t be. You were a good husband,” she said, somehow adding a smile to her face.

Helias smirked, somehow holding his expression even as his grasp on his wife’s hand seemed to fade and falter. “You were a good wife.”

“I’ll take care of our Gwendilia. Do you have anything you want to say to her?” Sara asked.

The general’s smile faded and for the first time since she could ever remember, Sara saw tears well up in her husband’s dark eyes. “Tell her that no matter what mistakes you make, it is never too late to make a good choice. That I fell in love with her at first sight and will never…stop…no matter where I am.”

Sara nodded, wiping her eyes. The words were perfect, and she hated that they were what she would have to deliver to her daughter.

“Husband, I love you.”

“Wife, I love you too. And… thank you, Stormcaller, Blackgale.”

Sara felt her heart stop in her throat as she glanced at the two mages that had bought her this moment. Blackgale looked as severe if not as monstrous as the stories she heard. The human Stormcaller was far shorter than she imagined.

Ayax’s only response to Helias was to give a short nod. Frances gave a sad smile, though, it was more directed to Sara than Helias.

“I hope you find your peace, General,” she said.

“I’m sorry about Erlenberg, about a lot of things. I’m sorry…”

Helias’s eyes stayed open. His last breath and apology, however, passed quietly like the end of his life.

Sara, still sobbing, held her husband’s still slightly warm face, kissed him gently, before finally letting him go and closing his eyes.

“Stormcaller—”

“It’s just Frances. I’m sorry for your loss. His wounds were too great,” said Frances.

“I know. You did me a great favor and my husband a great mercy, despite your history. I’m… I’m forever in your debt.”

As the words fell from her lips, what little composure Sara had shattered. Shaking, she sobbed into her hands.

“We didn’t even love each other like that! He was just… good to me, and now he’s gone! Why? He told me he was going to come back!”

Ayax shook her head at the general. “He was trying to save Alavari. He ordered the army to surrender, before joining us to fight Thorgoth. He… he said he did it for his family.”

Sara looked up at Ayax, and the cross-armed troll’s gaze didn’t waver. Slowly, the tears and cries returned, only harder.

Without needing to even exchange a glance, Frances and Ayax wrapped their arms around the sobbing young woman.

***