Joan tried to keep herself from going mad or, at least, getting too angry at the chosen. She knew they were doing the best they could. After all, they’d only seen her like this. Even if she had been capable of holding back an entire army of demons by herself at one point, she couldn’t do that now. She knew that. She wasn’t stupid. Her limits were far, far lower now than they had been.
But she was still trained and capable. Even if she couldn’t keep up with them, she was able to at least help them. She was good at knowing her limits as well, she…
Joan supposed that wasn’t entirely true. She was getting better at knowing her limits. She had done all of these missions a thousand times over, though, she knew which ones had the biggest threats and which ones had things she couldn’t handle. She would have stayed out of the way while Korgron faced down the guardian, she knew she couldn’t help there.
Well, maybe she would have gotten in the way a little. Just a tiny bit. But it wasn’t like she would have tried to face it. Probably. Maybe.
She gave a soft sigh and adjusted the bracer on her arm. She didn’t know what was worse. Being treated like this or not even really being able to blame them for it. She knew, logically, it made sense. She WAS more delicate than she wanted to be. It didn’t make it hurt any less. She--
“Child,” a voice said, making her jump. She turned around and saw Frisk walking towards her. “What are you doing out of your room?” he asked.
“Walking,” Joan said, not even trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I’m healthy enough to do that.”
“Don’t you get smart with me, human,” Frisk said, his eyes narrowing on her.
“I’m smart with everyone,” Joan said. She really didn’t need to start picking fights now, but she couldn’t resist when he talked down to her like that.
Frisk gave a sigh and reached a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for this, I still have work to do. Her highness has a very important guest this evening and we need to prepare. Can you please NOT cause her highness any more grief today and try to stay out of underfoot?”
Joan shuddered. Important guest likely meant some noble or another. While she’d always found the demon nobles to be slightly more tolerable than the human or elf ones, they were only slightly more. Dwarf ones were always the best, though. “I’ll head into the city, okay?”
“Yes, yes, whatever you like so long as you make yourself scarce,” Frisk said. “Ensure one of the guards go with you.”
“Of course,” Joan said, quickly shoving that idea aside. Just what she wanted, a babysitter. While the demons here weren’t the most welcoming, they were hardly going to attack her in the streets. She quickly turned and walked off, heading back to her room for only a few moments to grab her coin purse and cloak. It wasn’t too cold today, but the last thing she wanted was to risk a sudden rainstorm hitting and her having to return to change. She quickly made sure all of her gear was in order before heading out once more.
At the very least she could make a day of it, explore the city. She’d never had a chance to as anything but the Hero, so it could be exciting. It could even--
“--And the map will show us right where it is,” Qakog’s voice caught her ears a few moments after she stepped out from the palace.
Joan paused before looking around to try and find the source.
“It looks like you got swindled,” another voice said. “You really think that’ll take you to the tomb?”
She frowned. Where were the voices coming from? She inched around the palace before, finally, she caught sight of them. Qakog and another demon were standing behind one of the pillars of the palace. Joan made sure to keep it between them while she listened in.
“It’s the real thing, I swear,” Qakog said. “The Tomb of the Creator. Now’s the perfect time, with everyone busy we could get out, find it and come back with proof. We’d be legends. We’d--”
“Be laughingstocks,” the other boy said. “That tomb doesn’t even exist, it’s just an old legend. They’ve been looking for it for centuries. Do you really believe a grifter like Silverfang found the location? If he had, he’d have looted everything in it by now.”
“He said he couldn’t get through the traps,” Qakog said defensively.
“And you believed him?” the other boy asked. “Don’t drag me into this. You’re already enough of a laughingstock as it is after what that human did.”
“Joan,” Qakog said, his voice holding a little anger.
“The human,” the boy repeated. “If you want to go running through the swamp and making a fool of yourself, go ahead. Do it without me.”
“But—” Qakog said, but the boy left without giving him a chance to continue.
Joan leaned against the pillar for a few moments, lifting a hand up to her chin. There was one important thing about all of this. She knew where the Tomb of the Creator was. More importantly, she knew what was in it. Nothing truly dangerous that she couldn’t deal with. When she was the Hero it had taken a few hours to find and deal with. Most of the traps were half broken and while there were a handful of useful things there, it hadn’t been more than a quick little excursion.
But it had garnered her respect and, apparently, had been quite the historic find. Exploring the city a little might be fun, but this sounded like a far more exciting use of her time. She moved along the pillar as quietly as she could, coming up behind Qakog. “I’ll come,” she said.
To her delight, Qakog jumped and turned around. He looked ready to lunge at her until his eyes lit up with recognition. “Joan? You heard that?” he asked. She caught sight of a rolled up map clasped in his right hand before he quickly moved it behind himself. “How much of that did you hear?”
“That you’re trying to find the Tomb of the Creator,” Joan said. “And I said I’ll help.”
“You will? You’re just a human, why would--”
“Because I want to,” Joan said. She tried to avoid sighing when she saw his face light up and his chest puff out. “And I’m bored. There’s not a lot of other options.” That, at least, made him deflate slightly.
“I’m not sure,” Qakog said. “This is dangerous, if you’re still hurt then--”
“I’m not,” Joan said. She decided to leave out the fact that the tomb wasn’t nearly as dangerous as its reputation hinted. “Besides, I’m a seer. I know you won’t succeed on this quest without me.”
That, however, made Qakog’s eyes bulge. “You can see that?”
“I can see a lot of things,” Joan said.
He looked torn for a moment before, slowly, a wide grin formed on his lips. “Very well, then.” Before she could stop him, he reached out and grabbed her hands. “We will do this together, our first legendary journey as betrothed!”
Joan blinked a few times. “Not… not that. We’re not that. This is just… think of it more as mercenary work,” she said. “I’m helping you out for a cut of the reward. That’s all.”
“But you will do it besides me, will you not?” Qakog asked. “This is perfect. The beginning of--”
“You know what? Never mind,” Joan said. “You’re making this weird, so I’ve changed my mind.” She turned to leave, yanking her hands free from his.
“Wait,” Qakog said. “Please. I’ll stop.”
Joan stopped after a step before shaking her head and glancing back. “If I do this, no betrothal talk? No challenging me to a fight during it?”
Qakog gave a small nod. “If those are your demands, yes.”
“They are,” Joan said before turning around to face him once more. “We’ll need some things, though. Do you think you can grab them?”
“Things?” Qakog asked.
“Oh, like some rope, a decent throwing knife, traveling supplies, some other things. Can you?” Joan asked.
Qakog stared at her in confusion but, very slowly, he nodded.
“Perfect,” Joan said. “So, here’s what we’ll need...”
------
Joan crossed her arms and shook her head. She was soaking, tired, her boots were covered in muck from the swamp and she managed to discover a delightful immunity that she lacked and the Hero apparently had.
Tiny little biting insect immunity. She swore she was being eaten alive, for every one of them she smashed it seemed three more were coming to get her. Worst of all, she was fairly certain that Qakog was lost. “Are you sure you know where we are?” Joan asked.
“Of course I do,” Qakog said.
She found that doubtful. She had gone through almost every inch of these swamps in her hunt for the doomnetter. While they were going the right way towards the tomb, they had also doubled back three times. She wondered if there was ever any feeling as frustrating as knowing the direction they were supposed to go, only to be assured they were going the right way when she knew they weren’t. If she could only get him to let her see the map she was certain she could find the ‘correct’ way to go.
Joan swatted another one of the little blood sucking parasites on her arm before glaring at the back of Qakog’s head. It wouldn’t be that hard. He was still young. A simple blow. Leave the body. Nobody ever had to know. She gave another sigh. As tempting as it was, she knew it wouldn’t be fair. If she didn’t want to do this she could turn around at any moment and just leave.
Joan let out a loud shriek when a particularly large insect bit her cheek. She smashed it and then looked at her hand, cringing at the grime on it before wiping it off on her tunic.
“Right around here,” Qakog said.
“What is?” Joan asked.
“The temple,” Qakog said. “Apparently it’s in this clearing.”
Joan stared at his head. Just one. Swift. Blow. “May I see the map?”
“I know what I’m doing,” Qakog said.
“Just let me see the map or I’m going back,” Joan said, struggling to keep her voice level.
“But it’s my--”
“Qakog, we’re supposed to be a team on this, remember?” Joan asked. “So just let me see it. Please.”
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Sheepishly, Qakog slowly held the map out to her. She took it before sighing. Oh, he had been totally ripped off. There was a bunch of random notes that didn’t actually mean anything, symbols that she suspected were copied out of some old book and a bit of juice worn into the cloth of the map to make it look older, a trick that Chase had taught her years ago.
Still, it WAS a map of the area, even if the directions were terrible. She looked at it for a long moment before nodding. “I think I know where to go,” she said. “Follow me, okay?”
“What? It’s right here, though,” Qakog said.
“The first half, yes. It’s the second half that’s a little harder,” Joan lied. “Just trust me. Come on.”
------
“Are you sure this is where the map led you?” Qakog asked.
“Yes, it’s here,” Joan said, though even she was beginning to feel doubts. It didn’t make any sense. She had been here a thousand times. It was RIGHT HERE. Yet this time it wasn’t. A small clearing near the northern part of the swamp. Ten trees that grew around it in a little circle. There it stood, a big rock that had sunk deep into the swamp below. The section of the rock that had a long cut for her to jam her sword into and twist, causing the secret entrance to be revealed. It had been so obvious, the Hero had thought the demons were fools for having never noticed.
Yet here she was, staring at that massive rock. But there was no obvious cut. In fact, the rock looked just like any other she had seen in the swamp. She slapped another insect that was trying to leech the blood from her elbow. “It’s right here,” Joan said. “We just need to figure out how.”
“How?” Qakog asked. “How what?”
“To open it,” Joan said.
“Are you sure you didn’t read the map wrong? I don’t see anything,” Qakog said, staring at her. “It’s just a big rock.”
“It’s THIS big rock, though,” Joan said. She ran her hands along it again, perfectly smooth. It had to be here. It had been so obvious before. How had she not noticed? She saw something out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked there was nothing there.
“I don’t think there’s anything here,” Qakog said.
“It’s right here, though,” Joan said before forcing herself to stare intently at the smooth, unassuming rock. It was this rock. She KNEW it was this rock. After a few moments of staring she noticed something else. No matter how hard she stared at it, her eyes kept being drawn away and to the side.
“My head hurts,” Qakog said.
“Shhh,” Joan said. She put her hands against the rock and tried, desperately, to stare between the them. Still her eyes kept trying to flick away. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Joan said. Of course. No wonder it hadn’t affected her as the Hero. Some kind of distraction spell to make her eyes wander over it. Even if she hadn’t been highly resistant to such spells as the Hero, the mental traps that the Demon Lord had often subjected him to only made him more resistant. She drew her sword and placed the edge against the rock’s surface.
“What are you doing?” Qakog asked. “Also, what is with that sword? Is that fire on the edge? Is it a magic sword?”
“Shush,” Joan said before sending her magic into the blade. She swore she heard a light giggle for a moment, but when she stopped to listen she didn’t hear anything. She shrugged and once more coated the edge of the blade with her magic. Very slowly she started to draw the edge of the blade against the rock’s surface. For a small bit she wondered if her idea was just stupid, if it worked for the Hero it definitely wouldn’t for her. But then her sword jerked a little and she pushed it in.
As if it had been there the whole time, a long line seemed to appear in the rock, her sword lodged into it. “Found it,” Joan said proudly.
“What is that?” Qakog asked. “How did you… where did that come from?”
“Told you I knew what I was doing,” Joan said before she gave her sword a little twist. The line in the rock grew wider before finally opening entirely, revealing a small tunnel going deeper underground. The smell of dry, dusty air washed out, making her cough a few times. “So, you wanna go in fir--” She stopped when she realized he was already going in. She gave a shrug before following after him, slowly groping through the darkness until she found the ladder built into it and began climbing down. Once she was inside the tomb she already began to feel much, much drier.
In fact, she was considerably dryer. She realized after a moment even her boots were now dry, her socks not even sticky from the muck anymore. She couldn’t help but smile after that.
She loved magic.
------
“I expected it to be a bit more…” Qakog said once he made it to the bottom of the chamber.
“Bigger? Elegant? Fancy? Wet?” Joan asked a moment before she felt the ground underfoot. She kept one hand on the ladder before reaching out with the other, casting a quick incantation to create a small orb of light. “It’s a tomb. It--”
The words locked in her throat when she lit up the room. She’d been in this room a thousand times. A big, stone chamber, the walls covered in small images that, while not entirely faded, had meant nothing to her in her past lives.
Except now they did. The first one to catch her eye was a strange, spider-like carving on the wall. Exactly like the first statue she’d seen once she had gone through the doorway of the gods. She walked to it and, very gingerly, reached out a hand to stroke along the image. She half expected it to disappear or even move. Had it always been here? Had she just not noticed it? Or was it another illusion, designed to trick her?
“What is it?” Qakog asked.
“This,” Joan said before her eyes glanced over the other images. She couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but she thought they were arranged in the same way the statues had been. Albeit, they stopped far sooner. “These images.”
“They’re old,” Qakog said. “Really old. Why?”
“These are just…” Joan said, struggling to come up with the right words. She’d already probably told far too many people about her abilities and if ever there was someone she didn’t want knowing, it was him. “Weird.”
“Kind of. So how do we open this door?” Qakog asked.
“Human, dwarf, elf, demon,” Joan said, not looking away from the images.
“What?” Qakog asked.
“The combinations, order the races were created. Now shush,” Joan said.
“How could you know that?” Qakog asked.
“Seer,” Joan said. “Do you mind? I’m trying to focus.”
“Fine,” Qakog said, sounding as annoyed as she felt.
If these images matched what was behind that door, did it mean that the creator of the demons was connected to it in some way? Or was it--
Or she was an idiot. She felt like slapping herself. Just because nobody could go through the doors now didn’t mean that was always true. The legends talked about them once having people walk through them, of course they were deemed important and the ones who traveled through them would create murals and the like. If this truly was the tomb of the creator then surely they were deemed the most important to the demons and the tomb would be decorated with plenty of images from there.
Except if they were the creator of the demons, how did they go through that door? Were there non-demons who could go through it? Elves? Or was the tomb created later?
Joan heard a yell from behind herself and whipped around to see the door open. The door that led to the second line of defenses. Qakog was nowhere in sight and, for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he managed to get himself killed would that mean she no longer had to concern herself with him trying to marry her?
She mentally kicked herself after that and ran after him. If she got him killed because she was distracted how could she ever claim to be any kind of hero?
The next room, to her surprise, wasn’t holding a wounded Qakog. He was standing just a few feet into the room, a slashed wooden spike in front of him. He wasn’t moving, though, instead standing there with his eyes wide and rapier out.
“Are you okay?” Joan asked.
“Yes,” Qakog said. “I think. Is there any more?”
“More?”
“Spikes,” he said. “I think I got it, but…”
“Pressure plates,” Joan said. “I think you just triggered the one, though. Don’t move.”
“Didn’t plan on it,” Qakog said.
Joan couldn’t help but smile a little despite herself. He really was a lot better than he currently gave himself credit for. Even if demons could usually see somewhat in the darkness, they didn’t have perfect vision. The fact he could draw his rapier in time to cut it before it could hurt him was impressive.
She then paused and glanced at the rapier. While it did have an edge, it was definitely more of a piercing weapon than a slashing weapon. He really was going to be a monster when he got older. Maybe it would be better to just let him die here than risk him becoming more trouble in the future and--
Joan shook her head. What in the world was wrong with her? She grabbed him from behind and yanked him back towards the door. There was a light clicking sound and then what remained of the spike began to retract back into the ceiling. Partially. It locked about halfway down. “Luckily, it’s pretty old and isn’t the best working. You brought the rope?”
“Yes,” Qakog said, his eyes still locked on the spike. “Why?”
“That,” Joan said before pointing across the room at a lever on the wall. “Just need to tie something to the end and hook it from here.”
“That’s it?” Qakog asked. “How did you know?”
“Seer,” Joan said. “That and ropes are always useful. My instructors used to tell me all the time, a rope is one of the most versatile and effective tools in our arsenal.”
Qakog gave a light chuckle. “Did a lot of tomb exploration, did they?”
“Of course,” Joan said.
Qakog turned to look at her, his eyes wide. “Wait, truly? Humans do that?”
“All the time,” Joan said. “It’s fairly common, ever since…” She trailed off. She knew there was a reason for it, some ancient warrior or something. But she couldn’t for the life of her remember their name. “Well, someone started it. They had gathered magical weapons, armors and all kinds of tools in their lifetime. Rather than giving them away on their death bed, instead they had them buried with them so they could be certain whoever acquired them could put them to as much use as they did. It’s almost tradition now. After all, if you dedicate your life to fighting off de--” She stopped herself mid-sentence. She wasn’t sure, but she felt it might sound pretty rude to Qakog if she mentioned how often the tools were used just to slay his people. “Fight off the enemies of your people, you wouldn’t want your sword ending up on some wall as a trophy. You’d want it to be in the hands of someone who will use it just as well.”
“Seems needlessly complex,” Qakog said with a shake of his head. “Why not just give it to a warrior who has proven themselves?”
“Some do,” Joan said. “Some do that method. It varies.”
“Feels kind of like we’re cheating,” Qakog said.
“Oh, we are,” Joan said.
“This is the Tomb of the Creator, we should try and face its challenges honestly,” Qakog said.
Joan barely resisted the urge to call him an idiot. He couldn’t be serious, could he? One look at his face, however, told her he meant it. She gave a soft sigh before nodding. “Fine, as you wish. Go ahead and see if you can figure it out.”
“I will,” Qakog said.
Joan rolled her eyes, but kept her mouth shut. She already knew how this one operated. While the tiles on the floor all had different images of demons on them, they were a trick. As the Hero, she’d been told later that the trick had been simple.
The first few tiles closest to the door and the ones furthest from it didn’t trigger any traps, it was only the ones in the middle. So long as four tiles were pushed down at once, close together, then they didn’t trigger anything. The entire thing had just been a trick, the images nothing more than something to confuse an invader and make them think they knew what was going on before they got skewered. On top of that, half the spikes didn’t even work anymore. As the Hero, she’d ended up just running across and destroying the spikes as he went, before pulling the lever on the other side. When the Hero heard the ‘trick’ of the room he’d been so furious that he’d ended up storming off before hearing the others.
“Humble yourself,” Qakog said.
“What?” Joan asked.
“That,” Qakog said before pointing behind them. She turned and, carved into the stone above the doorway were two small rows of demonic letters. They were faded and in the dim light it was hard for her to read them from so far away, but she thought he was probably right.
“Are you sure?” Joan asked.
“I think so,” Qakog said. “It’s kind of old, but close enough. I think.”
Joan nodded. She’d never looked back as the Hero, hadn’t even considered it. Though how that could help with the pressure plates she didn’t--
Joan let out a groan and face palmed so hard she actually saw stars for a moment. “Ow. We’re supposed to crawl.”
“Crawl?” Qakog asked.
“Humble. Crawling,” Joan said. “That’s how we get across.” That was why the first few and last ones didn’t trigger traps. Why four of them had to be pushed down at once. Crawling across. She couldn’t believe it. Why would anyone even think that?
“Are you sure?” Qakog asked.
“Yeah, come on, let’s--” Joan started to get to her knees but, before she could, he held out a hand to stop her.
“I’ll do it,” Qakog said.
“What? Why?” Joan asked before her eyes narrowed. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I’m the one who said it has to be solved,” Qakog said. “I’ll take the risk.” He knelt down and, very slowly, got to his knees.
Joan sighed while she watched him. On his hands and knees it didn’t take him long to get across and, sure enough, the trap never activated. Once he got back to his feet and pulled the lever she heard a light click.
Two down, only one to go. If he really wanted to do them all ‘fairly’ she was in for a headache. Hearing a riddle you already knew the answer to was infuriating.