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A deity is an obsession. It cannot be denied, nor negotiated, to try would tear oneself apart. Each of us has divinity like this, some more than others, you more than most. Your companions did too. Recognizing the shape of this divinity is never easy.

The archmage, whose name is Amy, was confused when you revealed the reason for your visit, for she was not a combat mage. She had basic fighting spells, but the thing that granted her the title at such a young age– her divinity– was esoteric magic that typically takes hours to cast. The reason why she was in such an isolated place was because too many variables, such as people moving about, might affect it. Extremely difficult to learn, but purely academic in utility.

Grahm and I thought you should retract the invitation, and Amy agreed, but you were adamant. You said that such an unusual magic must surely be destined for greatness, and you were even more convinced that she should become your companion by mere virtue of finding her on your path.

We didn’t know if this was divine insight, or just stubborn pride.

She was especially bewildered as she hadn’t even told you what the magic was yet. However, she was willing to entertain the notion, but required you to answer a question: “What is space, what is time?”

You didn’t know how to answer, so you asked for time to think. She laughed, and said you could have as much as you wanted.

You stayed with her for three days, giving whatever answers came to your mind. She would listen patiently, then ask a question that showed a contradiction in your answer. Grahm suggested that you give up and find another companion, and I agreed, but this just made you more frustrated.

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Finally, this frustration grew until you said something so dumb that Amy couldn’t help but laugh. You grew red with anger, but she just said “Alright, I’ll join you.”

You were baffled, so she explained. “I just wanted a novel answer. I never expected you to know.”

I grew uneasy as you clearly didn’t know how to feel about this, but then you laughed and performed the ritual of companionship with a smile (a simple thing involving sacred oil and an oath). It was my turn to not know how to feel.

Why did Amy always chafe me like that? I didn’t distrust her, but I never really believed she was a suitable companion. It wasn’t just her lack of combat ability, or how esoteric the few things she could do were, though they certainly didn’t help. She would occasionally help later with novel uses of her strange magic, but she never grew her more basic abilities. You always had to protect her.

No, it wasn’t that. Maybe it was how she never really took our journey seriously. Like this was all just some fun diversion for her instead of a struggle for the salvation of the world.

“What does it mean for the world to receive salvation?” She asked you once.

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask the prince.” You said, shrugging.

I always hated when you called me that.

“You don’t know, I thought you were its saviour?” She said.

“Well, I know what I have to do– kill the demon lord– but to know how that will change the world I would have to have seen how it was before I was summoned.”

She gave me a knowing look. I should have listened to the terror in my gut, but I ignored it to spite her smugness.

So, there we were, the hero and your three companions. The knight, the mage, and me.

What was my role even? Why did you choose me. Sometimes I think it was just because you thought it was fitting for the king’s heir to join you. Sometimes I really believed you were divinely inspired to see some hidden talent in me. Sometimes I thought you wanted reasons to surround yourself with those less talented to make yourself shine brighter.

Well, I did make you shine bright, but I was at least more useful than Amy. I was neither fighter nor mage, but my words carried authority– over others and the world. Law and punishment– discipline. In a way I was the ilk that salvation was sought from.

But that’s pointless to tell you about. You didn’t understand it then, and you won’t understand it now.