Joan tensed up the moment she heard the footsteps of the Chosen. Oh, she could already FEEL their disapproval. She hadn’t WANTED to get in a fight or anything.
Okay, so maybe she had a tiny, itty bit. Maybe it was kind of fun to feel awesome and beat a bunch of thugs up. Heck, to not even have to reinforce her body to still win. A part of her wanted to gush about it to the Chosen, but she knew better than that. They’d probably think she was picking fights.
Searle was first through the door and, to her credit, Joan only stared a little bit. Any snappy comebacks or arguments she had quickly vanished. Instead she just stared.
Okay, so she stared more than a little bit.
“Joan? Are you okay?” Searle asked, walking to her.
“Your uhhh, what happened to your tunic?” Joan asked, struggling to suppress the blush creeping up her cheeks. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Bauteut staring as well. At least she wasn’t the only one.
“Skeleton captain,” Searle said. “It’s not really important. We could see the elemental from out there. What happened?”
“Oh, um, just stuff,” Joan said. Had he always been that handsome? He looked like he was almost chiseled out of stone. How had she missed it for so long?
“You’re one of the Chosen,” Francis said.
“Huh?” Searle asked before glancing over at Francis. “Oh, uhhh. Hello. Who are you?”
“Me? You, you want to know who I am?” Francis asked.
Joan finally glanced back at Francis and barely stopped herself from snorting at him. He was looking at Searle like he was the god’s gift to the world. Which, she supposed, the Chosen were.
“Yes?” Searle said. “Joan?”
“It’s a long story,” Joan said. “He’s Francis. She’s Ifrit.”
“Friends?” Searle asked.
“In a way, maybe,” Joan said with a shrug.
“Wow…” Ifrit said, her eyes locked onto Searle’s bare chest. Joan barely stopped from snickering when she saw the girl’s eyes wander from Searle to Francis and then look a little disappointed. That was hardly fair, after all, only one of them was basically a demigod.
“Huh?” Searle asked.
“Maybe you should go change,” Bauteut said. “Where are the others?”
“Korgron is fixing some of the things the elemental broke,” Searle said. “She’ll be here soon. Myrin is… was right behind me. I thought she was.”
“You’re one of the Chosen,” Francis said again.
“Huh?” Searle asked before looking back towards Francis. “Err, yes. A pleasure to meet you.”
“You’re one of the Chosen,” Francis said again.
“Francis?” Ifrit asked. “You’ve said that already.”
“I’m talking to one of the Chosen,” Francis said.
“Do you need a moment?” Joan asked. Weird, he hadn’t been like this when she met him as the Hero.
“I’m going to go change. The others should be here soon. I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay,” Searle said before glancing back towards her. “You are okay, right?”
“Not a single scrape, bump or bruise,” Joan said proudly. “Though, uhhhh. I think that elemental you two made might have been a bit much.”
“Korgron wanted it to be even more powerful,” Searle said.
“Of course she did,” Joan said with a small chuckle. Of course. Thank goodness calmer minds had apparently won out in the end. Otherwise the City of Hearth might have become the Crater Formerly Known as Hearth.
------
“So he’s a fake?” Korgron asked. “Or will be?”
“Maybe?” Joan said with a shrug before glancing back towards where Vivian was sitting with Francis and Ifrit. He’d barely made a sound once Korgron and Myrin had arrived, aside from a few excited squeaks. “He was a fake when I met him.”
“How did we deal with him then?” Myrin asked.
“Violently,” Joan said curtly. “There was this whole thing with some nobles trying to prop him up as the true hero, how I was just a fake and wasn’t worthy, how he was the god’s true chosen one, things like that. We were chasing him all over the countries, but he was a slippery thing. Eventually the pair of us fought and, well…”
“Well?” Searle asked.
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“His sword was pretty powerful and special, apparently a gift from a djinn of some sort. I cut it in half,” Joan said with a shrug. “Turns out god sword beats djinn sword. Who knew?”
“I can see the Hero displayed just as much control and tact as we’ve come to expect,” Bauteut said with a roll of her eyes.
“Sorry,” Joan said sheepishly.
“That sword of his doesn’t look that fancy,” Korgron said.
“It’s not,” Joan said with a shrug. “It’s not the sword. I don’t even know about the girl with him. She’s new. Or maybe she left before we even met.”
“So why were you helping him?” Korgron asked. “Why were you following him? Why were you, once again, looking for trouble?”
Joan’s cheeks turned red and she nervously poked her fingers together. “I mean, I wasn’t looking for trouble.”
“But you did find it,” Myrin said. “Quite quickly, I might add. Lord Esdelot is quite furious about your, as he claims it, assault.”
Joan gave a soft sigh. “He started it. Are you sure you can’t do anything else?”
“In the end, it’s your word against his,” Myrin said. “Besides, I’m doubtful he’ll cause us or anyone else anymore trouble.” Her eyes flickered to Korgron and Joan paused.
“What… did you do?” Joan asked before glancing between the two. “Wait. Why did you two get here so much later than Searle?”
“I was cleaning up some of the messes,” Korgron said.
“That the elemental made?” Joan asked.
“Amongst others,” the demon said.
Joan’s eyes narrowed. She then glanced to Myrin. “What did she do?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Myrin said.
“That’s just going to make me worry more,” Joan said with a soft sigh before shaking her head. “I think it was safer when you two didn’t get along.”
“So what do we do about him?” Myrin asked before motioning to Francis. “He’s not a threat, is he?”
“I don’t think so,” Joan said with a shrug. “There’s no hero now for him to pretend to be. I think he’s harmless.”
“So just let him go?” Searle asked.
“I mean, it isn’t like we’ve been holding him captive,” Bauteut said. “He’s just been kind of…”
“Mesmerized?” Qakog offered.
“Yeah, a bit,” Bauteut said. “He’s a bit reckless, cocky, a lot like Joan, actually. I can see why people might get him confused for the past you.”
Joan glared at Bauteut who just smirked back at her. “Regardless, I don’t think he’s an actual threat.”
“So why did you follow him?” Korgron asked.
Joan turned a little red. Well, as much as she hated to say it, she knew the reason why. “I was curious.”
“Curious?” Myrin asked.
“I wanted to know why he was here, what he was doing,” Joan said softly. “He was kind of an annoyance in the future and he was right in front of me. I figured I might as well see what he was up to. I didn’t expect to get in a fight like that.”
“Yet you did,” Korgron said with an exhausted sigh. She then glanced to Qakog and Bauteut. “Well? How did she do?”
“She fought like a god of elegance,” Qakog said.
Bauteut rolled her eyes. “She actually didn’t try to really get involved. She didn’t run headfirst into battle, either. She was pretty arrogant and probably almost bit off more than she could chew once or twice, but for the most part she was careful. Very, very arrogant. Just incredibly arrogant. Sooooo cocky. Almost as much as a certain demonic Chosen.”
Myrin and Searle gave light snorts and quickly glanced away from Korgron, who just gave an unamused look back at the healer. She finally turned her attention back to Joan. “Well, then I guess that’s that. Good job.”
Joan blinked a few times. “Wait, what? Good job? Aren’t you going to scold me or anything?”
“For what?” Korgron asked. “You saw someone was in trouble and you tried to help them. You used the elemental we gave you when you thought you might get overwhelmed. That was the whole point of us binding it to you. For you, that’s all pretty good.”
“I guess,” Joan said sheepishly. “But I thought you’d be annoyed I got in another fight.”
“I am,” Korgron said. “But I can’t expect you to ignore things like that when you see them. I mean, I’d love it if you could. It’d cause me a lot less stress. But that’s not really you. Better we prepare for what you will do and make sure you’re safe doing it than expecting you to do something smart.”
Joan glared at the demon after that remark. “Hey, I was smart this time! Mostly! Kind of!”
“For you, yes,” Korgron said before reaching out and patting her on the head. “I am proud of you, even. A little bit. You made the smart, right choices this time. Try to keep it up, okay?”
“I make plenty of good choices,” Joan said sheepishly. “I guess we can just let him go, though. Are you sure Esdelot won’t be an issue?”
Korgron just gave a small, knowing smile that sent chills down her spine. “For his sake, I’d say he won’t come near you again.”
Joan stared at the demon and felt a great deal of relief knowing the woman was on her side.
------
Francis just gave a small, timid little squeak as he was gently tugged away by Ifrit. Or maybe he was trying to say ‘thank you’. Joan had no idea. Either way, it seemed he wouldn’t be getting over his excitement of meeting the Chosen anytime soon.
Still, Joan couldn’t help feeling a little confused by the entire encounter. Had he always been such a huge fan of the Chosen and the Hero? If so, why had he been an enemy? What had driven him to try and take the Hero’s position? He seemed nice, if a bit reckless. Ifrit seemed like such a sweet thing as well. She wished she had time to figure out more about who she was or why those people had been after her.
Sadly, even after cleaning up the mess from the elemental, all Korgron had been able to find out was that a ‘Mysterious figure’ had made Esdelot an offer he couldn’t refuse. Just what she needed, another mystery in her life that she didn’t have the time to solve. She supposed she’d just have to trust him to keep the girl safe and not get himself killed.
In the end, if he did become a hero, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t like the world had one now. Who knew what kind of impact this meeting would have on him in the future?
Joan paused and then slowly glanced up towards the heavens. She wondered if this was another little twist of the fates. Did her meeting him now mean something? Or was it just coincidence? Was she his ‘Imp’ in some ways, a chance encounter that would shift his perception? Or was it something else entirely, was it not even her? Maybe it was Qakog? Bauteut? Or--
Joan shoved those thoughts away with a frustrated groan. She had enough things to think about without throwing more machinations of the divine into the middle of everything.