In some ways, Joan wondered if this wasn’t fair.

Left, step back, let it go past her and then counter strike.

With Searle, he was already advancing so much quicker than she had expected, especially with her guidance. So the fact she couldn’t keep up made sense.

The next came overhead, so she ducked down, before moving with the feint and then pulling her shoulder away from the true strike.

Andreas fought with so much more passion now and she had never seen him so dedicated, so he was advancing in a new way as well.

Joan jumped back, narrowly avoiding a kick, striking out against the foot when she went.

Korgron was, well, Korgron. Even if she COULD predict the demon’s blasts, it didn’t mean much when there was literally nowhere to go. Even if you could see and predict all the drops of water in a rain storm, how could you hope to evade them?

Once more the strike, far more frustrated, come at her from the right. She dropped and rolled, coming around behind for a hit to the back.

On top of that, her body was getting far more durable and Korgron was right. Her magic was certainly flowing easier than it had been. She was stronger, faster and able to maintain her reinforcement magic for much longer now.

“Damn it!” Hardwin yelled, the frustration in his voice filled with fury.

Joan didn’t even have to see the blow to know it was coming. Which she supposed was good, at the speed he moved she could never have possibly dodged it if she had to react to his movements. By the time he turned she was already moving past him, her practice sword striking his leg when she passed.

“Enough,” Hardwin said. “How?”

Joan gave a soft sigh and wiped the sweat from her brow. She really hated to admit it, but it had still been an incredibly rough workout. She had fought him so, so, so many times across so many lives. She likely knew his strikes and angles long before he did. She’d seen frustration, the way he moved, the way he reacted, the way to infuriate him best. And even with the heavily padded stick he wielded, one blow would have been all it took to knock her to the ground or even break her bones if he wished. Or if he had used even a single spell that she couldn’t avoid.

But in swordplay, where he couldn’t truly take advantage of his impossible speed? Where she was already moving to avoid a strike a second before he even started to swing? It was a little encouraging to know that she could still put up a decent fight. Heck, even when they first met she doubted she would have been able to dodge as well as she had.

“I told you, there is nobody I was closer to,” Joan said with a small smile. “Well. Mostly. There were a few times in life there were… the important thing is there is nobody, across all my lives, I fought like I did with you.”

“I almost had you,” Hardwin said, unable to keep the fury out of his voice.

“And if I hadn’t been through these exact same training fights with you, if I hadn’t seen you at this ability ten thousand times, if I wasn’t able to perfectly predict every strike you made down to where even your smallest toe would be positioned during them?” Joan asked. “I’d have been hit and likely knocked into the dirt. Even with that, I still managed to barely keep up. Try to imagine how that feels, to have such an incredible advantage and STILL only be able to get by with such difficulty.”

Hardwin opened his mouth to say something, she suspected something angry, but then stopped. He finally gave a sigh and a small nod. “Very well, I suppose that is probably worse.”

Joan ducked a second before the stick swept past her shoulder, narrowly avoiding it. “I knew you were going to do that.”

“That is incredibly disconcerting,” Hardwin said before walking to the weapon rack and hanging the weapon up. “Nobody has ever avoided me like this.”

“I doubt anyone could,” Joan said. “I bet a few months ago I couldn’t. The more you train, the harder it’ll still be. You’ll advance far faster than I can, after all. I’m getting better, though. Don’t I get any credit for that?”

“You don’t need to get better,” Hardwin said.

“Yes, I do,” Joan said.

“No, you don’t,” Hardwin said. “We’re the Chosen now, not you. It’s our duty to keep you safe and deal with these threats. You do not need to face them.”

“I know that,” Joan said. “But what about after all this is over? Just because I don’t want to be fighting legendary demons or have to slay massive trolls or protect the world from ancient curses doesn’t mean I want to just go and eat apple pie for the rest of my life. I mean, I wanna do that too but I also want to do other things. And they’re probably not going to be safe things.”

“You, doing unsafe things? Color me surprised,” Hardwin said before crossing his arms and glaring at her. “You’ve changed, though.”

“I have?” Joan asked. “You barely know me.”

“And yet, it is still noticeable. We were close before, weren’t we? Me and Owain?” Hardwin asked.

There was a little tinge of a headache when she heard the name and Joan gave a light hiss. “Please, the Hero. And yes. You and he were the closest. You were like… well…”

“Sorry. The Hero,” Hardwin said. “We were like what?”

“At worst? Brothers,” Joan said. “You were older, but he really admired you. I really admired you. Admire. You kept him from going nuts more than a few times. There was so many secrets and fears he only shared with you. In the lives where you didn’t make it, where you… where you died? Those were usually the ones where things went wrong fastest. Not that they didn’t go wrong anyway. But they went wrong the fastest.” Joan crossed her arms and felt a little red heating her cheeks. “At best, ummm. Lovers. So uhhhh, I’d rather not talk about those times. I have a lot of memories of that across most of the Chosen and I’m trying not to think about them too much. It makes things a little awkward.”

Hardwin cringed and gave a small nod. “I appreciate that. I’d rather not think about those either. So we were close, then.”

“Very,” Joan said. “I probably know you better than any of the Chosen.”

“But there’s certainly a change,” Hardwin said.

Joan didn’t want to admit it, but she gave a nod. “There really is.”

“Do you still trust me?” Hardwin asked.

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“Of course. Do you trust me?” Joan asked.

“Somewhat,” Hardwin said.

“I think that’s why,” Joan said before holding up a hand. “Please, let me explain. When I was the Hero, we were close. Incredibly close. You not trusting me or me not trusting you was impossible. It just didn’t exist as an option. It couldn’t exist. How could it? We were one and the same in a lot of ways. But now?”

“Now what?” Hardwin asked.

“I’m not the Hero,” Joan said. “When all these memories came back, they just washed over. In a lot of ways they took over. I felt like I was him. In some ways, I still do. But in a lot of others it’s like I’m looking in on his life. Like he was some old, dusty tome that I read and now I can, kind of, read. That’s all he is. Just a memory. Even a figment. He’s not in control anymore, not the one making the choices. He can guide me a lot, especially when I fight. But every day I feel a little bit more like Joan and a little less like the Hero.”

“But you still manage to get yourself almost killed,” Hardwin said.

“If I hadn’t had the Hero’s abilities when I was the Hero I would have died thousands of times,” Joan said. “I’m willing to bet the same applies to all of you Chosen as well.”

Hardwin gave a light snort. “Really? You think I would run into a--”

“How many people helped you fight the Devouring King?” Joan asked.

“Just myself and Thalgren, what does that--”

“And if I had tried something like that, I’d have been considered reckless,” Joan said. “You’re every bit as bad as I am, the difference is you’re still strong. So nyeh.” She couldn’t help it, she stuck her tongue out at him.

Hardwin just gave her a flat, unamused look. “Stop that.”

“Or what, dad?” Joan asked, unable to help herself from grinning when he cringed. “You know, that was something we never really discussed before.”

“What was?” Hardwin asked.

“Children,” Joan said. “You were the last of your family name, after all. You never had a wife, never adopted anyone, never tried to have kids as far as I knew. Why is that?”

Hardwin gave a shrug. “I couldn’t say. It hasn’t been on my mind since I found out I was the Chosen.”

“And before you knew you were a Chosen? Anybody you’d considered? Any women who--”

“I suppose I will have to consider it now,” Hardwin said, cutting her off. “Perhaps find you a nice husband who can get you to behave properly. Maybe that demon boy you warned me about.”

Joan went entirely still, her eyes narrowing on him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Hardwin asked.

Joan stared at him for a few moments before giving a small smile. “No, you wouldn’t. No matter how furious you were, I know you wouldn’t subject me to that.”

Hardwin gave a soft sigh. “No, you are right. I am not sure I like the fact I am the Chosen you know the best, though. Must you call out every threat and warning I make?”

“Yes,” Joan said. “I truly must.”

“Why?” Hardwin asked.

“Because it makes things feel normal,” Joan said. “It makes them feel right. It makes…” A hand lifted up to her chest and she took a slow, deep breath. “It makes me feel like I can, truly, fix everything this time. That all of those little breaths we had, those times when things were calm, relaxed, safe. When we felt, just maybe, we’d finally saved the world. Like those can become the reality and the future.”

“That’s a face more akin to what a child like you should have,” Hardwin said before he walked forward and gently reached out a hand to ruffle her hair. “Peaceful. Calm. We’re going to solve this, Joan. I promise.”

“I know,” Joan said. “We’re going to save the world or--”

“No or,” Hardwin said before shaking his head. “Just will. We’re going to stop the Inferno God, stop whatever is damaging your mind, defeat the Demon Lord and his generals. We won’t fail. Not this time, never again. Just believe in us.”

“I’ll always believe in you,” Joan said. “I just don’t know if I can believe in me.”

“Then we will,” Hardwin said. “We’ll believe in you for everything except protecting yourself.”

Joan nodded. “I am getting better though, right?”

“From what I’ve heard, yes,” Hardwin said. “Thirsty for praise though, aren’t you?”

Joan gave a light snort. “I used to get a lot more of it. It’s not my fault I’m surrounded by the Chosen now. I mean, it is my fault, but it’s not ENTIRELY my fault.”

Hardwin gave a soft, gentle chuckle. “Fine. Well then, since you are more Joan now, let me ask you something. Is there anything that Joan, not the Hero, needs from me?”

Joan almost said no, but then paused when she realized there was one thing she needed. “Uhh. Well… is there any news on when Searle and Bauteut will get back?”

“It’s only been a few days,” Hardwin said. “Give them a bit of time with their families.”

“Well, there is one little thing,” Joan said. “If we’re going to be here a bit longer. It’s, I mean, it--”

“Joan, spit it out,” Hardwin said.

“Clothes,” Joan said.

Hardwin went still for a moment, staring at her. “You’re kidding. You have clothes.”

“I do,” Joan said quickly. “Like… three outfits.”

“What? No, that’s not…” Hardwin started, looking her over. “You have to have more. Emeline gave you those dresses.”

“She lent me them,” Joan said. “I didn’t take any of them with me.”

“You have to have more, though,” Hardwin said. “I’ve seen them. Haven’t I?”

Joan sighed and just gave him a flat, unamused look.

“I haven’t,” Hardwin said.

“You haven’t,” Joan said. “Ugh, this is why I never talked to you about clothes when I was the Hero.”

“Oh? So we didn’t discuss everything, then?” Hardwin asked with a small smile. “Good to know we had some secrets from each other.”

“Yeah, the Hero never told you how he wanted to wear dresses or anything,” Joan said.

“Wait, what?” Hardwin asked.

“Nothing,” Joan said. “So, if there is something I need, it’s some more clothing to wear while I’m here. But it’s not a big thing, we’ll probably be leaving in a few days anyway and--”

“I’ll let my mother know,” Hardwin said before shaking his head. “This is going to be trouble, isn’t it?”

“It’s just clothes,” Joan said.

“No,” Hardwin said. “Clothing for a young girl. As small as you are, you’ll probably end up getting some growth spurt the moment we have them finished. Probably a hell of one considering how short you are.”

That took the smile off Joan’s face. She hadn’t actually considered that. “Maybe hold off on them until after that, then. I hadn’t considered--”

“I’ll tell my mother,” Hardwin said. “She’ll probably jump at the chance to get you some new clothing.”

“What?” Joan asked. “But you just said—”

“Forget what I said,” Hardwin said. “I was making some minor complaints. You need clothes, that’s all there is to it.”

“Okay…” Joan said, a small knot of guilt forming in her stomach.

“Joan?” Hardwin asked.

“What?”

“Did the Hero really want to wear dresses?” Hardwin asked.

“The Hero wanted to do a lot of things at different times,” Joan said. “I wouldn’t think about it too much. That’s my job.”

“Oh? And what’s my job, then?” Hardwin asked.

“Stabby stab the things that want to kill me,” Joan said. “Hopefully better than you tried to stab me.”

That made him pause and she quickly ran back towards the keep, narrowly avoiding his palm before he could hit her. “Yeah, like that! But without missing!” Joan called back to him with a wide grin.