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Book 7 Prologue

Owain didn’t lift his foot from the assassin’s back, keeping the man pinned to the ground. If anything, he put a little bit more weight on it. “I said, who sent you?”

“Ugh, who says anyone had to send me?” the man asked before cringing. “Maybe I just thought you needed a haircut.”

Owain sighed before leaning forward just a little more. It wouldn’t be hard. Just a little more pressure and he’d shatter the man’s chest. But if he killed him, he’d get no answers. “You know, most assassins would be dead by now. They usually kill themselves rather than get caught. You didn’t really think you’d be able to kill the Hero, did you?”

The man went still, his eyes going wide. “Wait, what? Who? Hero of where?”

“THE Hero,” Owain said with a roll of his eyes. He glanced to Hardwin. “He can’t really be stupid enough to not know, can he?”

“Possibly,” Hardwin said with a sigh. “You don’t really look like the Hero.”

“So, who hired you?” Owain asked again, ignoring his friend’s comment. “Is it that cult?”

“Hey, listen,” the man said, now looking nervous. “You don’t really expect me to believe you’re the Hero, right? I mean, that’d mean that you lot are the… the…”

“The Chosen?” Neia asked. “Yes, we are.”

“Now I remember where I saw you!” Thalgren said suddenly. “You were doing that guessing cup game outside, weren’t you?”

“What?” the assassin asked. “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

“No, I remember,” Thalgren said. “Your hair was different then, but I remember. I saw you cheat three different people out of their coin, but then when that child came, you cheated to let her win.”

“First of all,” the assassin said. “I didn’t cheat anybody. Second of all, if I had you wouldn’t know. And third of all, why would I let anyone win? You’ve got the wrong person.”

Owain eyed the man. A scam artist? Figured. He lifted his sword up and then paused. “Do you like games of chance, assassin?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps.”

“Then how about we play a special one,” Owain said, his grin only growing. “If you win, we let you go. If Thalgren wins, you tell us who hired you.”

A small, cocky smile formed on the man’s lips. “Well, if you’re going to make it that easy, then sure.”

Owain chuckled. Oh, this man would never have a chance. Nobody but the Chosen could lift one of their weapons.

------

Owain didn’t move. How could he? “Soooo, does this mean I’m free to go?” the assassin asked, a smirk on his lips. Thalgren’s hammer held in his hands.

“If only it were that simple, lad,” Thalgren said.

“What? But you said if I won,” the assassin said, looking nervous now. “If you think I’m going to out who--”

“Who cares who hired you?” Owain asked. “That’s unimportant. What is important is who you are.”

“Uhhhh…”

Owain stared at the assassin. The man he would come to know as an obnoxious trickster, a vile scoundrel, a playful pain in the ass and everything inbetween. Also, Chase.

------

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Owain said, his eyes narrowed on the Chosen of the Gauntlets.

“You never asked,” Chase said with a shrug.

“I thought you were carrying around dyes and makeup,” Owain said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He didn’t know why he felt as disappointed as he was, but he quickly shoved those thoughts aside. Obviously he was just annoyed that Owain had been hiding his changeling abilities from them. It wasn’t like he cared that the man was talented with such things.

“Really? You thought I was that good at them?” Chase asked with a small chuckle. “I appreciate it, but no. It’s just natural talent, I’m afraid. No trick, no special skill. Just innate ability. Still think I’m fit to be a Chosen?”

“It’s not my choice,” Owain said. “Only the gods can decide. So you’re truly a changeling?”

“Mmmm hm,” Chase said with a shrug. “Jealous?”

“Of course not,” Owain said. Yes, he was. Though he quickly shoved those feelings aside. Why should he be jealous of a Chosen? They were equals. Comrades. Why would he care about being able to alter his form? Though, this brought one more question to mind. One he suddenly felt an almost desperate need to ask. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, but just the one,” Owain said in a teasing tone. “We’ve known each other a few months now, right? So you’ve probably at least earned that.”

Owain felt his stomach tightening into a knot and, despite himself, he refused to ask the question. Instead… “So, did you really not know who I was when you tried to kill me?”

Chase gave a light laugh before shaking his head. “Hey, I just thought you were some big shot there to cause trouble. Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s taken care of. Besides, we’ve got bigger things to worry about, right? Remember, army of demons?”

Owain gave a low, soft chuckle and nodded. “Yeah. More important things, I suppose.” It was a stupid question. Why even worry about it? They had more monsters to stop.

He could always ask later.

------

Owain felt the fury rising in him and he couldn’t help it. He swung at the demon.

Chase pulled the prisoner back and out of reach, narrowly avoiding the blow. “Hey now, Hero,” Chase said in a teasing tone. “It’s not very heroic to beat a prisoner, now is it?”

“Heroic?” Owain asked through gritted teeth.

“If you want to fight them, I’ll let them go,” Chase said. “But I’m not going to just hold them while you swing.”

Owain almost lashed out again, but stopped himself. Like it or not, Chase was right. He couldn’t just beat on a helpless prisoner, demon or not. “You’re right. I’ll ask you again, what is the Demon Lord planning?”

------

How many times did Owain tell himself to not ask? How many years had he known Chase? Why did he always feel this desperate need to ask this question, why did it refuse to go away?

Why was it now that he couldn’t stop himself?

“Chase?” Owain asked, making the changeling jump. His face shifted a little before adopting the calm, gentle face he normally wore.

“Hero,” Chase said with a small nod. “Trouble sleeping? Today was a big day. They’ll probably throw a parade for us when we get home.”

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Owain chuckled and glanced out over their camp. Exhaustion had claimed the consciousness of all their friends, soon it might him. Why today? Why? He should put it off. But, after today, he felt like more than ever he had to know. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm, of course,” Chase said. “Anything for the great slayer of the Demon Lord.”

Owain chuckled, though he wished he could understand why that sent his stomach squirming in ways he just didn’t like. “Yeah, yeah. I uhhh, I wanted to ask about you. I mean, being a changeling.”

“Mm? What about it?” Chase asked.

“I mean, you can adopt demon faces, human faces, elven faces,” Owain said. “But I realized today. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take the form of a woman. I was just curious why not.”

Chase gave a light laugh, a hand moving over his mouth. “Oh dear, is this your idea of flirting, Hero? Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s not for me.”

“Huh?” Owain asked. “No! I mean, I wouldn’t care if you were a, well, I mean, I just--”

“Oh, wow,” Chase said before snickering. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so squimish. What, now that your ‘destiny’ has been fulfilled, no more tall, dark and brooding? It’s cute.”

“Sorry, this was stupid,” Owain said before turning around to head to his tent. He needed sleep, anyway.

“I can do it, though,” Chase said.

“Huh?” Owain asked.

“Become a woman, if I want to,” Chase said. “I tried it once. But it just feels… ugh. Wrong. You know? Not for me. This is just between you and me, okay? But some changelings can do both. Male, female, inbetween, neither, all of that. It doesn’t matter to them. But for me? I tried a female form once and never again. I can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to.”

Owain blinked a few times before nodding. “I see. Thank you. For what it’s worth, I’ve never minded that you were a guy. I mean, I uhhh…”

“Yeah, I’m a pretty fabulous example of male perfection, aren’t I?” Chase asked with a low chuckle. “If that’s what you’re looking for, maybe we can try it out sometime. But don’t ask me to be something I’m not.”

“I never would,” Owain said quickly before retreating into his tent.

Weird. He didn’t understand why anyone who could be a girl wouldn’t WANT to be a girl. At least for a little bit. Must have been a changeling thing.

------

“Do you think if I fell, I’d die?” Chase asked.

“What?” Owain asked.

Chase was sitting on the edge of the window, peering out over the city below. “I’m a Chosen, right? Doesn’t that mean I’m nearly invincible? So would I die?”

“Chase…” Owain said softly.

“I mean, the gods are gone now, right?” Chase asked. “No Boar, no Swan. Just a Chosen without a god. Yet even if I feel a little weaker, I’m still all but invincible, aren’t I?”

“Chase,” Owain said, his tone far more curt than he meant it.

“Oh, relax Hero,” Chase said before glancing back. “I’m not going to jump unless somebody makes a bet. Besides, they need us now. Right? To be their Chosen? Their beacons? Isn’t that what you always say?” He then got to his feet and walked towards him, reaching out a hand to gently stroke his cheek.

“What are you doing?” Owain asked before reaching up to smack his hand away.

“I’d like to ask you that,” Chase said in a soft, soothing tone. “You haven’t seemed like yourself in a long, long while.”

“I don’t know why you--”

“You look like you’ve given up,” Chase said. “You act like it. Sound like it. You used to shave every morning, sometimes twice. Used to put so much care into what you wore. Used to, occasionally, smile.”

“I smile all the time,” Owain said.

“No, you force yourself to smile,” Chase said. “I’ve seen your real smile, Hero. This, on your lips? It’s not truly it.”

“I haven’t given up,” Owain said.

“You never will,” Chase said in a gentle, soothing, saddened tone. “Even though so many of us are dead. Even though the gods are gone.”

“I’m fine,” Owain said before shaking his head. “Chase, just… go away. Please. I’ve got enough on my plate without your visits.”

“Mmm hm,” Chase said before walking towards the exit. “You know, it’s a shame you weren’t a changeling. Being able to wear any face you want has a lot of advantages. When you wear nothing but a mask, you learn to see the masks everyone else wears. I’ll see myself out. Maybe talk to your mother again, she’s got quite the mask of her own.”

------

Owain felt so tired when he walked into the throne room. He didn’t know what was worst. His right arm, now useless at his side. The pain of losing all of his closest friends, save one, and knowing he’d have to kill the last. Or the fact that Chase looked so amused on his ‘throne’. Sitting on it upside down, his feet straight up and head hanging over the seat. “Heroooooo, you caaaaaame.”

“You killed them,” Owain said bitterly, gripping his spear tightly in his left hand.

“I’d say it was a kindness at this point,” Chase said with an exaggerated shrug. “You look like you could use a bit of kindness yourself.”

“You’ve gone mad,” Owain said bitterly.

“Haven’t we all?” Chase asked. “You most of all.”

“Why did you do this?” Owain asked.

“You know, I don’t know,” Chase said with a shrug.

Of all the answers he expected, Owain hadn’t seen that one. “What? You… killed them, and you don’t even know why?”

“I mean, I did,” Chase said. “I thought I did. I would have sworn this morning it alllll made sense. Now? I’m kind of wondering if it was all a mistake. If I could know now what I knew then, eh? But I guess that’s the weakness of foresight.”

Owain felt his hatred only growing for this changeling. “Even now you make jokes?”

“Oh, lighten up,” Chase said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s over, right? World’s dying. Gods are gone. Now all that’s left is you and I. The Hero and the last Chosen.”

“We can still--”

“Save it? How, Hero?” Chase asked. “It’s over. Let it go, just give up. Accept that you’re going to die. That it’s all over. In the end? We failed. I failed. You failed. Take a bow, accept that you can’t fix it. Just this one time.”

“Is that why you did this?” Owain asked. “Is that why you… did this to yourself? To them?”

Chase grinned before, slowly, horns began to sprout from his forehead and his eyes turned blood red. “Mmmmm. Maybe. Yes. I think that’s why. It doesn’t hurt now. You know, though. We aren’t all so pure. Least of all, you.”

“Shut up,” Owain said angrily, clenching his spear and starting to walk towards the Chosen.

“Least of all, us,” Chase said, ignoring him. “So many masks. So many Chosen. I wonder, is that why we were all chosen by the gods? Did they feel that all of us would be able to pretend who we were well enough to be who they needed us to be?”

“SHUT UP!” Owain yelled before running at him, lifting his spear high.

------

Joan felt her stomach tying up in knots. She very much doubted it had anything to do with the teleportation they were going to have to do later. A small part of her wanted to object, to say they didn’t have time for this. They had a world to prepare for, to save. The more she thought about it, this method of locating Chase sounded so stupid.

But it might be fun. It might be exciting. Most of all, she was actually looking FORWARD to it. Despite herself, she was looking forward to having fun, getting new clothes, even a party. So long as she didn’t have to get engaged in the end, it actually felt like it might be enjoyable all around.

That meant it had to be wrong, right? Saving the world wasn’t supposed to be FUN. Was it?

For once, Joan told that voice in her head to shut up and actually ENJOY herself. She smiled and listened as Vivian kept talking.

“We’ll be staying with some friends while there,” Vivian said. “So, just the eight of us. Joan, Myrin, Bauteut, Zorn, Korgron, Searle, Qakog and myself. Thalgren, Andreas, are you absolutely certain you don’t want to come?”

“I’m sure,” Andreas said. “Parties aren’t really my thing and being in a crowded city for a few days sounds miserable. Besides, there’s somewhere else I’d rather be.”

“Same for me,” Thalgren said before glancing to Zorn. “You know, Mothr is going to be annoyed when she finds out you took a chance to visit Hearth over time spent back home.”

“And watch you spend days swooning over my sister? No thanks,” Zorn said with a shudder. “Besides, I’ve got some contacts there I want to check up on.”

Vivian nodded before glancing to the head of the table. “Lord Hardwin? And you?”

“Mother, please,” Hardwin said. “I don’t require new clothing, nor am I in any mood for… this. Just take Joan and ensure she doesn’t try to kill herself.”

“Oh how could I possibly almost kill myself in--” Joan said before stopping herself. Almost every eye on the table turned towards her and she gave a sheepish smile. “You know what? I take it back. Why tempt the fates? I’ll do my best to be careful.”

Hardwin just gave a sigh and shook his head. “Just try, mother, but don’t push yourself too hard. Between three Chosen even she should struggle to get in over her head.”

“She’s already managed it with two,” Thalgren said. “Lil missy is talented.”

“Maybe she should apply some of that talent to not getting hurt then,” Bauteut said in a soft, teasing tone. “I think we’re settled, though. Is there going to be enough space for all of us?”

“I’ll make do,” Vivian said. “I’ll need a few days to set everything in order, but I’ll send the letters immediately.” She then got to her feet and walked away, a small smile on her lips.

Joan felt another knot in her stomach. She sent a small, delicate prayer up to the gods. Please, please let this all go okay. She really, truly was excited. She just didn’t want to get anyone hurt, least of all herself or her friends.