Joan didn’t remember falling asleep, but it had been comfortable. Far more comfortable than she would have expected, at least. Sleeping in her own bed besides the chosen, even though they knew that one of their own was hurt and recovering.
Maybe it was because one of their own was recovering, though. Maybe it was a part of that bond that required them to be together. Allowed them to draw energy from each other when they rested. Perhaps that was why everything only truly began to fall apart once they had begun to die. Once she had cost them their lives.
Joan didn’t know and doubted she would ever have a clear answer on the matter, but she supposed it wasn’t as if she needed one. Perhaps it was just that they all needed rest after one they cared about was hurt and it was why they sought each other out. All she knew was that when Bauteut woke them up, she felt more rested than she had in ages.
“Korgron’s awake,” Bauteut said before giving a light yawn. The exhaustion was clear on her face and she had small dark bags under her eyes. “Why are you all in here?”
“I was upset,” Joan said. “They were comforting me. I guess they just fell asleep.”
“We were all upset,” Searle said softly.
“Uh huh,” Bauteut said. “Well, I just spent half the night healing a far too ungrateful demon princess, so I am going to go collapse into my bed. If you three want to check up on her, she’s currently being strangled by her sister last I saw. Or hugged. Too tired to care which. In case I forget when I wake up, remind me to hit her with something hard once she’s better.” The healer then turned around and walked out of the room, her muttering coming back through the doorway. “Ungrateful demon. I spend half the night taking care of her and that’s the thanks I get. ‘Oh, bucket, it’s you.’ I swear the next time she gives me any grief I’m going to find a bucket to chuck at her big stupid horned head.”
Joan tried to keep a smile off her lips, none the less. It was oddly nice to see the healer frustrated about a patient other than her for once.
------
“I’m sorry,” Joan said once she walked into Korgron’s room. The demon was resting on her bed, her head on the pillow and the covers pulled up to her neck. She suspected only because Isla was in the room and watching her like a hawk.
“You always are,” Korgron said. “What about this time?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Joan asked. “Also, shouldn’t you have a healer here with you?”
“She’s refusing,” Isla said. “Said she feels fine. Nearly cut in half only a few hours ago and yet now she’s apparently ‘fine’.” Her tone made it quite clear that she did not approve of this ‘fine’ at all. “I refused to leave her alone, she refuses to—”
“Waste any more of the healer’s time? That,” Korgron said with a roll of her eyes. “I can handle the rest myself. I have a few aches but that’s-- guh!” Her words were cut off when Isla placed a hand directly onto her torso.
“You certainly seem as if you have it under control,” Isla said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“As long as nobody tries to jam their hand into the wounds, I’m fine!” Korgron yelled at her. “Why would you do that?”
“Why would you kick out our healers?” Isla asked.
“Because I’m fine!” Korgron yelled. “I hate having them hovering over me like you are!”
“Well someone has to, I can’t expect you to take care of yourself!” Isla yelled back. “You almost died!”
“But I didn’t, now did I?” Korgron asked.
“Kind of reminds you of someone, doesn’t it?” Andreas asked Searle.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Searle said.
Joan could almost feel the two of them staring at her. “Hilarious,” she said, her own voice dripping with sarcasm. “But Korgron, I’m so sorry. If I had better prepared you, this wouldn’t have happened. I didn’t think the phantom could--”
“Wasn’t the phantom,” Korgron said with a shake of her head. “Do you mind, dear sister? I have important chosen things to take care of.”
“I very much DO mind,” Isla said. “If you think I’m leaving you alone, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“I wouldn’t be alone,” Korgron said.
Isla just glared at her.
“Fine,” Korgron said before rolling her eyes. “But you ARE worrying too much. Anyway, moving on to actual IMPORTANT matters. It wasn’t the phantom. That was simple. Exhausting and there were a few moments I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep the seal from cracking, but that should hold it for another few thousand years. There’s something else, though. You mentioned that the sword sealing it was gone, right?”
“Yeah,” Joan said. “They didn’t know when it had disappeared but--”
“It was there,” Korgron said. “And I don’t think anything will be removing it anytime soon. But I think I know where it had gone.”
“What? Where?” Joan asked. “Wait, is that why you were so wounded?”
“Yes,” Korgron said. “I was recovering from the seal when Gil showed up.”
Joan went still, her mouth falling open. “Gil? As in one of the Demon Lord’s generals? As in Penthe?”
“Yeah,” Korgron said. “Though he said he didn’t know why I was calling him that. But as surprised as I was to see him there, he was just as surprised to see me. He tried to take the sword, but the seal I’d placed made it impossible for him. Unfortunately, well, I was already pretty exhausted when he arrived. Normally he wouldn’t have stood a chance but--”
“Penthe did this?” Joan asked, unable to stop herself from shrieking her question. “That’s not possible, Penthe wouldn’t, she couldn’t, she…” She trailed off before sighing. “She let you go.”
“I’d hardly call that letting me go,” Korgron said, her eyes narrowing with annoyance. “I had to use Andreas little bonding spell to contact him and get the teleport beacon up again. I spent half the fight trying to keep my organs from falling out and the rest of it just trying to get enough distance between us I could get out of there.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense, Penthe wouldn’t kill a chosen,” Joan said.
“Why? Why wouldn’t she?” Korgron asked.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Because she… because… I…” Joan struggled to come up with a reason, though none came to mind. Penthe had killed the Hero, she knew that. Yet, for some reason, she still desperately wanted to trust her. Penthe had also tried to kill her. Was it really that huge a leap for her to then try to kill one of the chosen? No. She supposed not. She gave a light sigh and lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Korgron said. “I don’t know what memory of yours is telling you to trust him of all people, but I think it’s wrong.”
“It probably is,” Joan said.
“Korgron almost died,” Isla said. “If she were anyone else, even you, she would have. There is only so much our best can do.”
“It takes a lot to kill a chosen,” Joan said softly. “A lot more than a normal person. But you’re probably right. I don’t know why any part of me is still trying to trust Penthe. I’ll try and push that aside. I’m so sorry though, Korgron. I didn’t know that was going to happen. I swear.”
“I don’t think anyone did,” Korgron said before sitting up and wincing. “Still hurts a bit, but not nearly as bad as it did.”
“You shouldn’t even be able to move,” Searle said softly. “Those wounds were as severe as they looked, weren’t they?”
Isla nodded. “They are. Were. But, despite my own worries, there seems to be some truth to my sister’s exuberance. She’s recovering impossibly quickly.”
“The power of the crown flows through her,” Joan said. “In a day or two she’ll probably be right back on her feet and driving you insane. She might not even get a scar.”
“Oh, hey now,” Korgron said with a small grin. “I think a few battle scars might do me some good.”
“To show off all those times you run off to battle without a shirt?” Isla asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or perhaps you intend to just leave a big gaping hole over your stomach, invite your enemies to stab you right in the soft, squishy bits?”
The smile fell off Korgron’s face and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, point taken.”
“I mean, she is a mage,” Joan said. “She could fight naked and it wouldn’t matter much, most things couldn’t get near enough to actually hurt her. Those that could would likely not really be… hindered much by… I’ll be quiet,” Joan said once she caught the look that Isla was giving her. A look that warned her she might have to struggle to keep her own organs inside if she didn’t shut her mouth.
“You do that,” Isla said before glancing back to Korgron. “Just please get some rest.”
“I just woke up,” Korgron said.
“You weren’t sleeping you were unconscious,” Isla said. “You passed out.”
“And now I’m not tired,” Korgron said. “I just--” A light knocking on the door made her pause for a moment before she called out. “Come in.”
The door opened and Frisk stood in it for a moment before bowing his head. “Lady Korgron, I cannot say with words how grateful I am to know you are doing better. However, Lady Isla? There is still the matter of--”
“I know, I know,” Isla said with a wave of her hand. “My sister almost dies and suddenly they all can’t function without me. Of course. Korgron, can you please just promise not to get out of bed again? At least until I get back?”
“If it will get you out of my hair for a little bit, I promise,” Korgron said. “I won’t move from here. Okay?”
“Thank you,” Isla said before getting to her feet and heading towards the door. She paused for a moment to give one last worried look to her sister before walking out, closing the door behind her.
Korgron gave a soft sigh once her sister was gone and then, with more effort than was likely necessary, scooted a few inches to the right before collapsing back on the pillow. “Is this how you always feel, Joan?”
“Kind of,” Joan said. “If you’re anything like the Hero, though? You’re probably in a great deal less pain. Normally it’s a week or so before I wake up now. Not a few hours.”
“Yeah,” Korgron said. “I haven’t gotten hurt this bad since… ever, I don’t think. If I had been at full strength it wouldn’t have come close to this.”
“Korgron, I really am happy to see you’re okay,” Andreas said before glancing towards the door. “But I probably should go and help my fiance. If only to stop her from killing somebody.”
“Go ahead,” Korgron said with a chuckle. “I’m fine. I don’t need everyone watching over me.” Once Andreas left the room, however, Korgron gave another soft sigh. “So, this happen often?”
“Does what?” Joan asked.
“These kinds of wounds,” Korgron asked.
Joan closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. Oh, there was a question she desperately didn’t want to answer. “I don’t think you’ll like the answer.”
“There’s a lot of things I don’t like,” Korgron said.
“Not often,” Joan said. “There were only a few things that ever managed to do it. The Demon Lord, the Inferno God’s avatar… the Hero…”
“Ah,” Korgron said softly. “And so… how often…?”
“Not often,” Joan said. “The chosen can be killed and wounded, but never easily. But that’s only because the threats you have to face are things that no normal creature of this world could hope to face. The closest a person could ever hope to come to being like you is the demons. Err, no offense.”
“None taken, we’re pretty amazing,” Korgron said.
“Humble too,” Searle said.
Korgron and Joan just stared at him after that.
“Errr, was that too much?” Searle asked. “Sorry, I was just--”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Joan said. “You just aren’t usually the one to, well… say things like that.”
“I’m honestly a little proud,” Korgron said. “It’s like he’s finally grown a bit of a backbone. Along with the small little fragments of a beard. Our little Chosen of the Shield is becoming a man.”
Searle’s cheeks went a brilliant shade of red and he looked away, mumbling something she couldn’t hear. Joan snickered softly. “It’s not a problem, Searle. Really. Just unexpected.”
“Sorry,” he said gently.
“Don’t be,” Korgron said. “So we shouldn’t have to worry about this happening much?”
“Not really,” Joan said. “Especially once we find Neia. Her healing magic is incredible. She’s kind of like, well. Your normal magic, but for healing. I’ve seen her bring people back from the brink of death who should have never had a chance.”
“Oh? So wounds like the ones I had?” Korgron asked.
Joan was silent for a long moment before shaking her head. “No. I mean, for the Hero and the chosen, yes. But for someone who was normal? No. You were pierced all the way through, Korgron. I’m not a healer, but even I know for a normal person a wound like that you don’t come back from.” Which put even more weight to the notion that Penthe was trying to kill her. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Korgron asked.
“Because I should have predicted this. There were seven of us when last we--”
“And I did it all by myself this time,” Korgron said. “Just because we all went there together before didn’t mean we all needed to be there. You had no way to know about this, stop blaming yourself.”
Joan nodded, though she couldn’t get the guilt to fade quite so easily. She walked over and sat by Korgron. To her surprise, a moment later she felt the demon’s hand grip her own.
“I’m fine,” Korgron said. “You probably get hurt worse than this all the time.”
“No I don’t,” Joan said.
“You come closer to death,” Korgron said.
Joan wanted to object, but she really couldn’t. She finally sighed. “I’ve gotten better.”
“Of course you have,” Korgron said in a teasing tone. “Doesn’t change things, though. So, I’ve been gone for a while, give me some news. How has your recovery been going?”
“Well, pretty good,” Joan said. “I ended up having a small little adventure of my own. Found the Tomb of the Creator and ran into the Demon Lord,” she said, before she began recounting everything that had happened while Korgron was gone.
Korgron was okay, that was the most important thing. So long as her friend’s were okay, she knew she could handle whatever came forth.
She tried not to think of all the times she’d seen them collapsed on the ground, the life fading from their eyes. The hope draining from her own. That wouldn’t happen this time. Not again. None of them would die this time.
Never again.