Joan felt, for the first time in a long time, safe. She was wrapped entirely in something warm and protective, held up by strong arms that all but promised nothing would ever hurt her again. She was safe. She was protected.

Joan didn’t know what this memory was or when she had ever had it, but despite herself she didn’t want it to end. She wanted to let the safe arms carry her forever and take away her worries until everything was over and done with. She wondered if this was a memory of being a baby in her past lives, had the Hero’s mother ever carried him like this? Probably not. Had her own parents, before she’d become an orphan? She doubted it, if they had it was so long ago that she had no memory of it.

But it felt so nice and real, she hoped this dream would last forever. She nestled up a little more in those arms, giving a soft dreamy sigh.

“I really should have just done this sooner, she’s much easier to manage when she’s unconscious,” Bauteut said.

Joan paused. Wait. This wasn’t a memory. THIS WAS HAPPENING NOW! Her eyes went wide and she tried to move, only to realize she couldn’t. She was tied up. “What? HEY! Let me go, don’t--”

“Of course,” Bauteut said. “Joan, stop thrashing around.”

“You tied me up!” Joan yelled, turning to glare at the other girl as best she could. She then looked up at who was carrying her. Searle. He, at least, had the good graces to look embarrassed and was avoiding eye contact.

“No, I swaddled you,” Bauteut said. “After knocking you out.”

“You can’t just put me to sleep like that,” Joan snapped. “Untie me.”

“I can, I did and I really shouldn’t be able to. The fact I could so easily shows you just how beat up you were and how often you get torn apart,” Bauteut said, her tone firm and allowing no argument. “So, as your personal healer, stop that. Now, the reason you’re swaddled is because when you woke up I knew you’d be all claws and rawr and bitey, so for Searle’s protection I made sure you wouldn’t be able to.”

“He’s not the one who’s going to need protection when I get out of this thing,” Joan said with a light growl.

“Do you want me to put you back to sleep?” Bauteut asked. “Because I can and I will.”

Joan growled, but didn’t answer.

“Good. Now, you’ll be happy to know that you’re well on your way to getting another bout of healer’s shock flu,” Bauteut said.

That drove any will to fight out of Joan’s mind. Memories of being curled up in bed and feeling as if everything in existence was miserable raced through her mind. “I am?”

“You are. Which is why Searle is carrying you,” Bauteut said. “Because, unlike you, as a chosen he has enough energy to haul all of us if it was needed.” Joan couldn’t help feeling annoyed that one of the most powerful heroes in the world was being treated like a pack animal, but she held her tongue. “We also don’t have time to wait for you to recover, so our options were limited. Now then, are you going to keep throwing a fit?”

Joan shook her head. “No, but this is humiliating,” she said softly.

“Then stop throwing yourself at certain death,” Bauteut said firmly. “Jumping off a cliff, what in the world is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how hard it was to stop Searle from jumping after you?”

Joan’s cheeks turned bright red and she shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, don’t let the lass fool you,” Isla said with a light chuckle. “She nearly jumped after you herself. You should have seen the pair of them, screaming about rope and having to get down there and save you. It’s hard to say who was more worried.”

Joan felt her own cheeks start to burn and, to her surprise, she could see a rosy glow beginning to form in Bauteut’s cheeks as well. “I was only worried as her healer, that is all. It’s my duty to patch her up when she almost gets herself killed. Which, frankly, is a far too common occurrence.”

“So those suicidal actions are common, then?” Andreas asked. “Good to know the supposed fate of the world resides in a child without survival instincts.”

“I wasn’t trying to die,” Joan said gently. “I just had to stop Penthe from killing Isla. I kind of forgot that tackling her would take us off the bridge.”

“Yeah, about that,” Isla said. “You called Gil Penthe. Why?”

“That’s her name,” Joan said. “I think. She said it was? But I don’t know why. I just know that I know her from somewhere.”

“Her?” Bauteut asked. “I’m pretty sure that was a guy.”

“While I’ve never seen Gil without the armor, I’m pretty sure he is,” Isla said.

“I think they are a girl,” Joan said, beginning to feel doubt. Why was she so certain Penthe was a girl? The armor looked male and her voice sounded male, if distorted. But she had seemed to accept that her name was Penthe, so that part had to be true as well, didn’t it?

“Why?” Bauteut asked.

“I don’t know,” Joan said before giving a sigh and resting her head on Searle’s chest. “Sorry. I wish I knew, but I don’t.”

“Makes about as much sense as anything else to do with you,” Bauteut said.

“I really wish I could explain it. Trust me, it bothers me every bit as much as it bothers you,” Joan said.

“So, this is the great hero?” a voice said, making her jump. Joan looked around for a moment before her eyes fell on Korgron. The demon’s arms were crossed and the look on her face sent chills through Joan’s heart. Because it was the look that she had most often seen on Korgron’s face in the times where Korgron had been the one who, in the end, became the new Demon Lord. Disappointment.

Joan wished she could have curled up into a ball and died. Of all the positions she could be in when meeting Korgron, being swaddled and carried by Searle was probably the last one. She tried to speak, but no words came out.

Korgron just watched her for a few moments before shaking her head. “I see. Is she usually like this?”

“No, usually she won’t shut up,” Bauteut said.

“Sorry,” Joan said.

Korgron gave another sigh of exasperation before glancing towards Isla. She then gave another look towards Joan, before she started walking faster. “I’m going on ahead to ensure there’s no trouble. Andreas, I’ll trust you to keep things under control. You, uhhh…” she said, motioning to Bauteut.

“Bauteut,” she said.

“Right. Bottled, get her back on her feet,” Korgron said before making a dismissive gesture towards Joan.

“I told you already, her body isn’t--”

“Yes, yes, she’s human and that means delicate,” Korgron said with another dismissive wave of her hand. “But she’s supposed to be impressive, is she not? You are her attendant, figure it out.”

Bauteut looked ready to snap at the other woman, but Korgron took off, dashing off ahead of the group and leaving the light.

“She’s pleasant, isn’t she?” Bauteut said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Err, sorry Isla.”

“None taken,” the demon said. “My sister is known to be a bit… she has a tendency to push people the wrong way.”

“It’s my fault,” Joan said with a soft sigh. “If I had just been--”

“Oh you can stop that right now,” Bauteut said firmly. “You’re lucky to be alive. Besides, that healing magic she used on you wasn’t proper in the slightest.”

“What? She healed me?” Joan asked.

“No, she TRIED to heal you,” Bauteut said, crossing her arms and, for a moment, looking quite haughty. Then she gave a soft sigh and shook her head. “And did a good job of it, actually. Mostly. Kind of. It was more that she just, you know?”

Joan shook her head. “I really don’t.”

“Her method of healing you wasn’t healing you. It was basically just throwing her magic into you and hoping it stuck,” Bauteut said. “It was crude and unorganized. If it hadn’t been so powerful, it wouldn’t have worked in the slightest! You can’t just force someone to get better like that. At least, most people can’t. It was just wasteful.”

Joan’s cheeks turned a little redder. “I mean, she was often the one in the group who was healing us. Her and Neia. She healed a hole as big as my fist in my stomach, once. Well. The Hero’s stomach. I’d have died likely if not for her, then.”

Searle stumbled and the others in the group stopped. After a moment Joan felt all of their eyes on her. “What?”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“A hole in your stomach? As big as your fist?” Bauteut asked. “You’re exaggerating. You have to be.”

Joan shook her head. “No. I mean, it wasn’t a common occurrence, but from time to time things like that could happen.”

“Time to time?” Isla asked. “How is that a time to time thing? What in the world happened to result in a wound like that?”

“Dragon,” Joan said. “Very angry, very deadly dragon. My own fault, really. Actually we should probably deal with that later. But yes, one time it got me in the stomach. Oh, don’t get me wrong, it hurt like a--”

“Wait, no, we’re getting distracted,” Bauteut said. “There’s something very important we need to know about, before anything else. Gil, or Penthe.”

“I told you I don’t know why I know,” Joan said with a soft sigh.

“They saved you,” Bauteut said. “We saw you falling, they caught you. But then when we got down there, they were trying to kill you. Almost succeeded at it too. If we’d been just a few seconds later, you wouldn’t be here.”

Joan felt her cheeks going a little redder. “I guess I’m lucky? She wanted to know how I knew her name. I don’t think she saw me as a real risk of keeping alive. Well, until she realized who I was.”

Bauteut gave a soft sigh and, once more, the group started walking. However, the air was now filled with tension and she could feel the unease almost radiating off them. She couldn’t blame them, though. More and more she was finding the things she told people to become harder and harder to swallow. This thing, especially, had to be one of the hardest.

Joan tried to move around and escape the binding of the blankets but, to her annoyance, it felt like she was more tightly wrapped up than she had been when ropes were involved. She didn’t know if it was because Searle was carrying her and helping to hold it wrapped or if Bauteut was just that good at wrapping. She finally just gave up and went limp, relaxing against Searle.

“So, uhhh, we’re gonna trail back a little bit,” Isla said before grabbing Andreas hand. “Make sure nobody is following us. Okay?” She received a small nod and, after a moment, the two were gone.

Joan felt the silence all the way to her bones, the awkwardness so thick she could almost cut it with her sword. A part of her wondered if, maybe, she was just going mad. How could she possibly know who Penthe was?

“Joan?” Bauteut finally asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” Joan said.

“For what?” Bauteut asked.

“Everything,” Joan said. “For not knowing what I should. For knowing what I shouldn’t. For making you two come here. For not understanding anything. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Bauteut said after a moment. “Really. I was just going to ask you, well, where was the Star of the Hero?”

“I don’t know. It could be anywhere now,” Joan said. “It might not even exist. No hero likely means no star.”

“No, not now,” Bauteut said. “Before. You remember it, don’t you? When you found it?”

“OH!” Joan said. For a horrific moment she was afraid she wouldn’t remember. Then it all came back to her and she felt a small rush of relief. “I found it.”

“You found it,” Bauteut said. “There has got to be more than that.”

“Kind of,” Joan said. “After dad was killed, I was just confused for a while. Mom wasn’t very…”

“What?” Bauteut asked.

“Sorry, it’s just, please give me a moment,” Joan said, scrunching up tighter against Searle. It felt strange. She wasn’t, physically, the Hero anymore. She knew that. But try as she might, she still saw the parents she had then as her parents. They were the only parents she’d ever had, so even if she wasn’t really theirs, they still felt like they were hers. She wondered how her mom would have felt about her now. Would she have hated her less if she hadn’t been a hero? She quickly shook her head, trying to shove those feelings away. Her mom never hated her, she didn’t know why she’d even thought that. Her mom had just not been very good at talking with her. Dealing with things. That was all. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Bauteut asked.

“Yes,” Joan said. “No. Maybe? I don’t know. Once my father died, I was mostly alone. There were a lot of rumors going about, especially because it wasn’t known I was the Hero yet. I didn’t really know what was going on. But then there was an… a…” She stopped again before giving a soft sigh. “It’s going to sound strange.”

“Compared to everything else?” Bauteut asked.

“Fair. It was a pull. It was like something was calling me, telling me I had to come to it. And I did. These old, overgrown ruins. I don’t know how they remained hidden for so long, how come nobody noticed them. I even asked people about it and they’d never even noticed them. It was like they were invisible to everyone but me until I was needed. I went into them. There the weapons of the chosen were waiting. But the Star? It wasn’t directly with them. It was outside the tomb, as if it had just been dropped. Abandoned, even. I thought it was junk at first, but when I picked it up it had changed. The metal shifted to fit my grip perfectly and it was just--” The words died in her throat when a new thought occurred.

“Joan?” Bauteut asked.

“What if it’s still there?” Joan asked.

“What?” Bauteut asked.

“The Star,” Joan said. “It--”

“It’s not,” Searle said.

“What?” Joan asked. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been to the ruins where the weapons of the Chosen were found,” Searle said. “Everything around it had been gathered and organized. There’s a whole list of different trinkets and the like that were found nearby, but no other weapons were ever found.”

Joan felt her excitement deflate. Even if the Star was there, it wasn’t like she could use it. Even if it existed. She couldn’t lift the weapons of the chosen, how could she hope to bear the star? Still, she made a mental note to visit one day. “I’m surprised you knew about that.”

“I helped catalog most of it,” Searle said. “While only Lord Hardwin could move the weapons, everything else could be moved by others. There were dozens of us all scouring the area. Frankly, I was incredibly lucky to be allowed to come and help with it.”

Joan felt another shock through her. Had that meant that Searle and Hardwin had met before, just in passing? Another sign that the two were, more or less, fated to eventually meet?

Kind of like Andreas and Korgron had met in their own way, even without her? What if she had never been here to begin with? Would the seven have eventually gotten together on their own, worked towards fixing it all without her? Worse, what if her being here was actually making it all worse?

Joan shoved those thoughts aside as best she could before closing her eyes and resting her face against his chest. It didn’t do her any good to think about such things. All it would do, in the end, was make her feel more doubt. She had quite enough of that as it was.

------

Joan, after much convincing, finally managed to get Searle and Bauteut to unwrap her and let her walk on her own, under the oath that she would not push herself too hard and would warn them if she got tired. She was eternally thankful for this when the tunnel they were walking through revealed a small chamber with a fire in the middle of it, Korgron sitting across from the flames.

Judging by how smooth the chamber was, Joan suspected that Korgron had made it herself. It seemed far too clean and perfect otherwise. The demon didn’t look the least bit tired, however, instead just relaxing by the flames.

“Sure took your time, didn’t you?” Korgron asked. She glanced them before, very slowly, a smile formed on her lips. The way her green eyes glimmered in the firelight and made her teeth almost shimmer sent chills down Joan’s back. To be honest, normally she’d always thought Korgron was one of the most breathtaking of the chosen. But now? She looked almost like every other demon that had tried to rip out her spine. The fact her tail was occasionally moving behind her, like a cat preparing to pounce on its prey, didn’t help.

“Your sister is--” Bauteut started but was cut off.

“Yeah, I know. Andreas already told me,” Korgron said before lightly tapping her head. “We’ve all been having a very nice little chat, actually. About you three.”

Bauteut frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Oh? And what do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Korgron said. “All of this? Doesn’t add up very well. Some kid claiming to be the Hero, but so beat up they’re being swaddled by a wet nurse. The wet nurse, of course. Then Searle, well, you’re a chosen as well. I have to respect that at least,” she said before tapping a finger on the ground.

Joan jumped and turned to see the rocks around the entrance of the chamber close in on themselves, locking the them in. “Korgron? What are you doing?”

“Easy,” Korgron said. “I’m going to test you, Hero. You make a lot of claims, but frankly? They don’t add up. Now, Searle, I don’t blame you for accepting it. You seem like a good kid, probably not the type to be believe a cute little face like that is lying. But frankly? I think the answer is fairly obvious.”

“And what answer is that?” Bauteut asked.

“Easy. She’s a minion of the Demon Lord,” Korgron said with a shrug of her shoulders. “A clever little liar who managed to convince all of you. Impressive, really. Maybe you are too, but honestly? I think you’re just another kid who got sucked into her little story.”

“That’s it?” Joan asked. “Very well. What do you want me to tell you? What information do you want from me? I’ll tell you anything and everything I can, but—”

“Tell me? No no no no,” Korgron said, shaking her head. “That won’t work. If you know something, not a lot of ways for me to confirm if you know it from me or found out another way. And if you don’t know it? ‘Oh, I don’t know, I just magically don’t remember’, right? That’s your go to now?” the demon asked. “No, I don’t want you to answer questions.” She then tapped her finger on the ground again and the fire in the middle of the room grew until the flames touched the ceiling.

Searle quickly moved between the two of them, lifting his shield up. “Joan isn’t lying. I’ve--”

“Oh, of course,” Korgron said before giving a light laugh. “She muuuuust be telling the truth, because she’s your friend. Right? But I don’t really buy that for a moment. No, Hero, I don’t want knowledge from you. I want experience. You say you’ve been around for a few thousand years?”

Joan nodded slowly, though she was unable to keep the confusion from rising up. “I have.”

“Good. Then you and I are going to play a little game. You win, then I’ll believe you. Otherwise, well, I’ll assume my first theory,” Korgron said, her voice filled with amusement.

“A game?” Joan asked. “Wait, that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Korgron said. “Searle, move aside. Unless you want her to forfeit, she’s going to need to come and do this herself. No chosen to protect her.”

Joan slowly reached out and gave Searle a little push. Reluctantly, he moved aside. “It’s fine,” she said with a small smile. “It’s Korgron. I know her, I’ll be fine. She won’t kill me.”

“You really underestimate me,” Korgron said before the fire dimmed down. “And why won’t I kill you?”

“Because I trust you,” Joan said. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I can trust the chosen. Even when I don’t think I can. After all, Andreas had me fooled for a little bit, I won’t fall for that again.” She walked to the fire and sat down in front of it, staring at Korgron across the flames. “Do your worst. I’m ready.”

“Please don’t actually do your worst,” Bauteut said. “She’s still healing.”

“Quiet, bucket,” Korgron said before putting her hands together and beginning to, very lightly, chant.

“It’s Bauteut,” the healer said, but was ignored.

Joan stared across the flames at the casting demon and waited, wondering what kind of game Korgron would make her play. So long as it wasn’t a battle of power, though, she was confident she could at least prove herself to the demon. Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d drive away the memory of being swaddled like a child.