Your second companion was Sir Grahm, a knight of high standing in the court. He swore to give his life to protect you… I think he would have preferred that.

The two of you had a tense relationship. I think maybe it was a competition, but one where neither of you knew the goal. Just you trying to demonstrate some shifting virtue you saw in him.

Maybe it was because you thought he was better with weapons than you. It was always a strange distinction that you made between arms and spells. You excelled at using them together, a strange talent, but you felt they should be separate. You separated many things. That always worried me, but I found ways to ignore it.

We needed another companion. You didn’t understand why but accepted it when we said it was tradition. Tradition! Ha! Maybe you were right on that one. It’s so hard to disentangle the important from mere happenstance. But this one thing you didn’t try– I wish that grace was bestowed on something else.

We suggested a mage, but you said the only one good enough was the ‘old man’ and he wasn’t healthy enough for the journey. The matter was settled when we heard tale of a genius young archmage in an isolated place, and you were determined to find them.

You led us confidently as we traced the source of the rumours from town to town. We were attacked several times along the way– you never did care to avoid ambushes. You’d spot them and continue on anyways, saying they were practice you saw no reason to give up. It was an odd mentality, but it did seem to work.

We fought bandits, demons, and other things. There was one demon you let go after it pleaded for mercy. I thought this admirably foolish, since it was just the first one that survived long enough to ask to be spared. Sometimes we would regret that decision, but other times we would be grateful for it. I cannot say how different our journey would have been without it, or if we even would have succeeded… in what sense we did.

They were an odd demon, mostly human looking. Abalm was their name. I don’t know if you were truly moved by their pleas, or just thought they were attractive and found killing them too awkward. If the latter you would get over that hesitance, but you still had a naivete then.

They did give you compensation: coin and a clue to find a lair of small demons near the village we were headed to. Though they did swear vengeance for their humiliation after fleeing a short way. We found this amusing.

We went to the village first, hoping to find the archmage but they refused to tell you their location. A band of demons was terrorizing them, and the mage was their only defence. Moved by their plight you swore to rid them of the ‘infestation’.

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You were so mad at the village chief though. That he wouldn’t trust you to take care of the demons after you found the mage. Were you not the hero summoned for the world’s salvation? Surely trust is the least you could ask for?

I assuaged your anger, and so you did not press. It would have been improper for you to reveal your role as the hero to gain trust; you were still unproven.

“Then why did you announce me to the crowds?” You asked, reasonably.

“That was part of your proving.” I explained, but you did not understand.

We found the demon lair quickly with Abalm’s clue– a cave in the mountainside. The demons were a small furry variety, with razor sharp claws and fangs dripping with venom. You said they were cute. This was neither the first nor last time I questioned your aesthetic judgment.

The guards at the cave mouth fell quickly. You questioned a survivor for alternative entrances. They said there were none, which matched what Abalm claimed.

We knew that inside would be a maze of death, full of ambushes, traps and hundreds of demons. Grahm and I steeled ourselves for the gruesome but glorious fight ahead. It was time for you to plumb the depths and gain hidden wisdom.

You chopped down trees and stacked them by the entrance then set fire to them.

Screams as the demons choked to death echoed through to the entrance. Some were of pain, others of anguish from watching those around them suddenly fall. Some realized what was happening in time to rush to the entrance, only to be met with a wall of flame.

A few tried to extinguish it, but lacked proper means, and so in desperation climbed through the fire to escape. Their fur instantly ignited and were consumed into briefly living balls of flame. Like with the incense of arrival it is a smell I will never forget.

You looked so proud of yourself, until you saw our faces.

Did you expect our praise? To call you clever? Why did you think we summoned you? We could have done that ourselves, we have an abundance of killers. You never understood that– you thought your role was just to be the best.

Well, you did plumb the depths as we wanted, just after they were all dead. We found the customary treasure to propel you on your journey, well done you.

The villagers did praise you, called you clever. An advantage of not revealing your heroic status– they had no divine expectations... Nor did they have to live with the smell.

Your self-confidence was quickly regained.

There was the customary celebration, and the chief anointed you with the proper oil. We ate delicious local food and observed the local customs. It was relaxing to see rural differences in the ceremonies and dances– the bonfire burning into the night… the cooked meat made me nauseas. I stuck to the vegetables.

The chief fulfilled his promise and revealed the location of the archmage up the mountain. We climbed the whole of the next day and found her tower.

She was as surprised to see us as we were to see her. We heard she was young, but not that young. She was pleasant and cheerful though not…

My power is exhausted, and the connection wanes. I must cut my transmission short. Perhaps…