“So do you want to or not?” Zorn asked.
“I really shouldn’t,” Joan said softly before glancing towards the door.
“I may not have known you for long, but I know what you should and shouldn’t do rarely impact your decisions,” Zorn said.
“They do more than they used to,” Joan said sheepishly.
“Fine, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” Zorn said before heading towards the door.
“Okay, I’ll come!” Joan said before jumping to her feet and taking a few extra seconds just to make sure all of her equipment was on. Ring, amulet, sword, bracer. She then glanced towards Bauteut’s bed. As opposed to her own, it was properly made. Then again, Bauteut usually left every morning and didn’t come back until evening, so it wasn’t like she was here to mess it up again. “Just for a little bit, okay?”
“I’m just going to buy what I need and then go,” Zorn said. “Can’t stay cooped up in here all day.”
Joan gave a nod before following after him. Despite her resistance to the idea, she really DID want to go out. She just couldn’t help feeling guilty. The Chosen were still mostly bed ridden, although they were doing better than they had. Even if the wounds resisted healing magic the natural healing abilities of the Chosen were still powerful enough to expedite this process.
It didn’t make it much easier for them, though. She’d been there, once. She could remember just how much it hurt to be burned so terribly, to have her organs melted and fused. Especially when they were so innately strong that the wounds they received rarely lasted more than a few hours or even days at worst. Lucky as they were to be alive, it likely didn’t feel that way. What they needed more than anything was rest.
Fortunately, being the Chosen had once again opened many doors for them. In this case, a temple to the gods. A place where they could rest, constantly being monitored and kept safe from any threats, were there any that could challenge the Chosen. Sure, there had been a few assassination attempts, but no more than was expected and Korgron was more than able to stop them with ease.
Even the fake Neia, who she supposed might just actually be the real Neia but just not her Neia, was being calm and collected. Joan had expected an escape attempt or two by now, but the elf seemed content to live the role of ‘prisoner of the Chosen’.
Bauteut now spent most of her days studying under some of the elven healers. Joan didn’t really understand why it was such a big deal, but as little as she knew about actual healing magic it wasn’t like it could surprise her. If it meant Bauteut was more useful in the end or even if it just made her feel more useful, who was she to deny it?
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much for Joan herself to do. She wasn’t really bored like usual, she was just being cautious. The Chosen were hurt, so it was best she didn’t stress them out too much by risking getting hurt.
But going outside with Zorn on one of his little deals hopefully wouldn’t be that bad. She gave a soft prayer to the gods that things would just be simple and interesting, but not scary or stressful. She quickly followed after him.
The temple was a bustle of activity, filled with elves running about and pretending to look busy. Not that she could blame them, the Chosen were here so most of them had likely begun to consider the idea that the gods might ACTUALLY be watching them right now. None of them wanted to seem like they were being lazy. Still, she’d seen the same boy scrubbing the same corner by the Peacock’s statue at least a dozen times in the last two days, so she didn’t doubt that there was a lot of busywork being made up at the moment.
The pair of them got passing nods and she waved back, but mostly just stuck close to Zorn until they were outside and in the wide, open air. She let out a sigh of relief, oddly feeling light a weight had been lifted off her. Who knew? Maybe the gods were watching them when they were in the temple. If they were, then she hoped she at least put on a good enough example. To her surprise, she heard Zorn let out an oddly similar sigh.
“Not a fan of temples?” Joan asked.
“Visiting is fine, don’t like living in them,” Zorn said. “You?”
“Same,” Joan said.
“Really? I imagined if anyone would be fond of being near the gods, it would be you, lil missy,” Zorn said with a small chuckle.
“I mean, I’m also the person they have the most reason to be mad at,” Joan said with a small chuckle of her own. “They seem nice enough, but it’s not like we’ve had a chance to really talk everything out.”
“You haven’t?” Zorn asked. “What about the whole thing between deaths?”
“Fates,” Joan said. “Not the gods. The gods were gone by then. My fault, which I admit. I was just doing my best, though. Still, probably a mistake.” She moved a hand gently down by her waist, fondling the grip of her sword. They were getting the occasional glance, but not many. She supposed they’d been here long enough the novelty of having a dwarf and human running around had worn off.
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That or it was just because they weren’t the Chosen and everyone knew by now. Possibly the fact that Corin had made it abundantly clear anyone who attempted to interfere with any of the servants of the Chosen would face her wrath personally. Nobody had even tried to assassinate her or anything, it was almost insulting.
Then again, with her amulet there was always the possibility someone had tried to poison her food and she just hadn’t noticed. She’d warned Zorn and Bauteut to be careful as well, so possibly they were just being careful enough to not be killed.
After a few moments Joan couldn’t help but wonder if these were strange thoughts to be having while just walking down the street. When she was the Hero people had tried to kill her all the time, but now that she thought about it she could only remember a handful of times where any of her servants were killed or even attacked. Even now there had only been one time where she remembered someone trying to kill her and that was only after she had made it somewhat more obvious that she was important. Maybe she was worrying too much.
“Do you think I worry too much?” Joan asked.
“Probably. What about?” Zorn asked.
“Being assassinated,” Joan said.
“Definitely,” Zorn said. “Not that you don’t have reason to. But that topic comes up way too often with you and you are a little too casual about it.”
“Probably,” Joan said with a soft sigh.
“How about we focus on something else today?” Zorn asked. “For example, we’re in the middle of the elven lands. Surely there must be something here of interest to you?”
Joan glanced around at the intricate buildings, woven into the trees themselves. The graceful, lithe, gorgeous elves who moved around them with a distant, almost disinterested air about them. It was honestly a lot like being back in the Realm of the Fae, but somehow duller. “You know, not really. There’s a lot of pretty things here, but it’s… I’ve been through most of it. Better and worse,” Joan said with a shrug. “You know, if I could do something though. I’d like to know all about your rings.”
“My rings?” Zorn asked.
“Yes,” Joan said. “You have like a hundred of them. What do they all do?”
“I do not have a hundred of them,” Zorn said. “I can’t tell you what they do, though. What if one day you turn evil and I need whatever surprises I can have to defeat you?”
“That’s fair,” Joan said.
Zorn stumbled before whipping around to stare at her. Finally, he gave a sigh and shook his head. “You know, lil missy. Most people wouldn’t accept that answer. Most people shouldn’t accept it. That’s why you need to think a little bit less about that kind of stuff. You’re just a little too focused on death and surviving that, more often than not, I think you forget to live.”
Joan gave a small shrug. “Maybe, but it’s not like--”
“Off the top of your head,” Zorn said. “How many different ways can you imagine yourself turning evil and us having to stop you?”
Joan’s cheeks turned red and she lowered her eyes. “I-I mean, it’s not that many. If I was infected with some kind of mind altering disease or spell. If I wore, say, cursed equipment that turned me evil. If the Demon Lord kidnapped me and brainwashed me into being one of his minions. If—”
“None of those are going to happen,” Zorn said. “You worry too much about every situation. Just live a little. You’re well on your way, aren’t you? If what Thalgren told me is true, we’ve almost got all of the Chosen and--”
“If the fake Neia is right,” Joan said. “And this other woman is the real Neia, then yes. But there’s still Chase. Then, after that, we have to get to the heart. Well, we have to talk with the Fates first, but then the heart, then… well. Then we’re done. World is saved. Ish.”
“Ish,” Zorn said before reaching out and gripping her cheek, giving it a light pinch. She reached up and knocked his hand away, but he only laughed. “You need a break, lil missy.”
“Stop calling me that,” Joan said. “I hate being called that.”
“I will tell you what,” Zorn said. “If you will calm down, I will call you by your name.”
“I’m calm enough,” Joan said.
“No, you’re not,” Zorn said. “It radiates off you, like a wave. All of your tension, your stress. It comes off you and hits everyone around you. You’re like a bow string pulled so tight that the string will snap at any moment. But there’s no release. It just pulls tighter and tighter. Everyone can feel it. Even in the temple they felt it. Why do you think everyone avoids coming near our room?”
Joan turned a little red. “Really? I’m scaring everyone off?”
“And like that, the string is pulled tighter,” Zorn said with an exasperated sigh. “I want you to try relaxing today. If for nothing else than my sanity. I have to sleep in the same room as you and even I can only take so much of these echoes of stress washing off you.”
“I’ll try,” Joan said sheepishly. A moment later he grabbed her hand and started tugging her off towards a crowd. “What? Hey, what are you doing?”
“Something interesting is going on over there,” Zorn said.
“What? What is it?” Joan asked.
“I don’t know,” Zorn said. “But there’s a gathering and if my experience has taught me one thing it’s that people gather around the fun, interesting and distracting. Best of all? It’s not our problem. So at the very least it will hopefully get you to calm down for a few minutes.”
Joan glared at him, but let him tug her along none the less. Did she really seem that tense all the time? There were a few times she relaxed, she was sure. It wasn’t like she was tense for no reason.
But what if she’d always been like this? What if that was how she was as the Hero, too? How could--
She shoved those thoughts aside and let herself be led through the streets towards the crowd.
Maybe he was right. It might do her some good to live a little. To just relax and enjoy herself.