Joan lightly tossed the Silver Beetle into the air, spinning it by its legs, before catching it on the way down. It was a nice way to pass the time while sitting on the roof of the embassy. She tossed it again. Then again. Then--

“Is that safe?” a voice asked, almost making her drop it. “Don’t you need that?”

Joan paused and glanced over to the see Ifrit standing in the roof access. She then grinned and smacked the Silver Beetle on the stone with a loud clang, making the other girl cringe. “It’s an ancient magical artifact that has survived being at the bottom of the sea for centuries, then being eaten by a giant fish, then being tossed around who knows where, before finally I managed to get a hold of it. If it was that easy to damage I wouldn’t have ever found out about it. Also, I’m bored.”

Ifrit slowly walked out and sat besides her, looking out over the main courtyard. “Do you think they’ll attack tonight?”

“Maybe,” Joan said before glancing up at the night sky. It was hard to see with so many torches burning. “I doubt it, though.”

“Then shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Ifrit asked.

“I’m bad at that,” Joan said with a shrug. “Besides, I figure if the prince is going to try and assassinate me, tonight is the night to do it.”

“You don’t actually think he would, do you?” Ifrit asked.

“Probably not,” Joan said. “He’s had a few days to fester on it, though. Chase still likes me so I doubt he’ll try and kill me as long as Chase thinks I’m good. The moment he doesn’t, though, I’ll likely be in trouble.”

“The Chosen wouldn’t abandon you, would he?” Ifrit asked.

“Probably not, no,” Joan said. “Unless I turned evil or something and they needed to stop me. But I have plans for that.”

“Oh? And what plans are those?” Ifrit asked.

“The Chosen,” Joan said with a shrug.

Ifrit stared at her for a few moments before giving an exhausted sigh. “You either overestimate yourself or overestimate them. I am not entirely sure which, if your story is to be believed.”

“Which one?” Joan asked.

“Multiple lives,” Ifrit said softly. “The Chosen believe it though. Francis does.”

“You don’t?” Joan asked.

“It’s scary to believe,” Ifrit said, slowly pulling her knees to her chest. “We… never met? But you met Francis?”

“Yeah,” Joan said. “It was awkward, that.”

“What was he like?” Ifrit asked. “When you met him?”

“Francis? He uhhhh…”

------

Francis clutched the stump of his arm, his sword shattered on the ground besides him. He stared up at the Hero with hate filled eyes. “You… were never… the Hero…”

Owain glared down at him, his sword trembling with barely controlled anger. “Do you have any idea how many people have died because of your deceit? Because of your trickery? Yet still you judge me?”

Francis spat at him, blood and saliva splattering on his boots. “If you were… the real Hero… you’d never have f-failed. So… many more are dead… because of you…”

That only made Owain’s fury grow and he plunged his sword forward, embedding it in the pretender’s heart.

------

“He was… not my biggest fan,” Joan said. “Which makes it kind of awkward knowing how much he looks up to me and the Chosen. Well. Looked up to me. I never saw this side of him. I must have really messed things up. Which… yeah. I guess makes sense. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here now.”

“You never met me, did you?” Ifrit asked.

“Nope,” Joan said.

“Can you tell me how you met Francis? As the Hero?” Ifrit asked.

Joan gave a groan and looked to her again. “I’ll be honest, it’s not a nice story. On top of that, it’s really not fair to talk about it. That was then. Francis isn’t that person now. He’s… well…”

“Please,” Ifrit said. “I just… want to know.”

Joan gave another soft sigh and tossed the beetle into the air a few times. “It wasn’t good. It took place after the… after a lot of people died. A lot of the Chosen. The Hero… I wasn’t in a good place. I already felt like a failure. The gods were gone. Some nobles apparently found him and just propped him up as the ‘True Hero’. He had this weird magic sword, a gift from a djinn or something. He wasn’t entirely wrong. I wasn’t good at my job. I failed a lot of people and the Hero shouldn’t fail.”

Ifrit just stared at her.

“I’m making that face again, aren’t I?” Joan asked.

Ifrit nodded.

“Sorry,” Joan said before giving a small smile. “A lot of… bad things happened.”

“So why help us?” Ifrit asked.

“You needed help,” Joan said. “I could, so why wouldn’t I?”

“Because he was your enemy,” Ifrit said.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Hey, nobody was a bigger enemy to me than me,” Joan said firmly. “Besides, I’ve been wrong about so many other things, I might as well just assume I was wrong about this too. I’m not the smartest Hero, or the toughest, certainly not the strongest. But one thing I always have to do, no matter what, is help those I can, when I can. If I ever don’t do that, I… I think I’d finally, truly, not be worthy of anything I was given.”

“That sounds like a dangerous way to live,” Ifrit said gently. “What if you make a mistake?”

“We all make mistakes,” Joan said with a shrug. “I’ll keep trying to make up for them, I guess. Try not to get killed before I do. Hope it all turns out okay in the end.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Ifrit asked.

“No idea,” Joan said. “But if it turns out wrong because I messed up, at least then I can go ‘I tried’. If I did nothing because I was afraid of what the consequences would be, well…” She gave a light shudder and tossed the beetle into the air again. “I’ve done that. It was miserable. I don’t think I could live with myself if I let that fear stop me from helping people who needed it.”

“And if you cause more harm than good?” Ifrit asked.

“Well, I’ll just keep trying to fix it,” Joan said. “If I never stop long enough to consider all of the consequences then I’ll never have to deal with them, right? I think that’s how it works.”

“… Can you save Francis? This time?” Ifrit asked softly.

“Save him?” Joan asked. “Oh by the… you’re not planning something stupid, are you?”

“W-what?” Ifrit asked.

“I know that talk,” Joan said. “’Oh nooooo. This necromancer or lich or demon or angry goat demands a sacrifice and if I don’t do it, they’ll kill everyone! Please take care of those I leave behind!’ That talk. I KNOW that talk.”

“Angry goat?” Ifrit asked.

“It was the size of a mountain,” Joan said. “Also, likely not actually a goat but my question stands. Do you intend to do something stupid?”

“No,” Ifrit said. “But… I never survived before, so I doubt I will this time. I don’t… want anything bad to happen to Francis. He’s… special.”

“Oh, he’s definitely something,” Joan said, her voice filled with annoyance. “I don’t even know if you met him in those lives. He never mentioned you.”

“I think… he did,” Ifrit said softly. “I’m… a djinn.”

Joan blinked a few times. She then tossed the beetle into the air again. Finally, she settled on what to say. “What?”

“I’m a djinn,” Ifrit said.

“Really?” Joan asked. “Huh. That explains a lot. So you grant wishes?”

“One wish,” Ifrit said. “I can make… one wish.”

“The legends usually say more,” Joan said, focusing on the tossed beetle. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever actually meet one. This why they’re after you?”

Ifrit gave a small nod. “Yes. I don’t know how they found out about me or what wish they desire, but I can’t imagine any other reason they’d want me.”

“Does Francis know?” Joan asked.

“He does,” Ifrit said softly. “I… almost made a wish and he… stopped me.”

“Really?” Joan asked. “Why’d he go and do that? If you have no more wish, they’d have no more reason to track you.”

“When I grant a wish, I’ll die,” Ifrit said softly. “My life for a wish.”

Joan dropped the beetle, turning slowly to look at Ifrit. “You’ll… die? As in…”

“To complete the wish, I must sacrifice my life,” Ifrit said softly. “So if Francis had a sword given by a djinn…”

“That was your wish?” Joan asked, laying back on the roof. “Oh… oh that… that brings up a whole lot of new context I do not want to consider.”

“Is that… good? Or bad?” Ifrit asked.

Joan groaned and sat up, picking the beetle up again. “I don’t know. Maybe? Both? Well, new rule. No making a wish.”

“I-I know,” Ifrit said. “But if it comes to that--”

“I’ll kill Francis myself,” Joan said coldly.

Ifrit froze, staring at her. “W-what?”

“If you make a wish and die? I’ll kill Francis myself,” Joan said.

“You can’t be serious,” Ifrit said. “That doesn’t… that…”

“I know those thoughts you’re having,” Joan said. “’If things go bad, I have to make the sacrifice. I’ll protect him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt. If I’m the only one who has to suffer, it’s okay.’ Those thoughts? They’re stupid and they’re wrong. I’ve thought them myself and felt the consequences of others thinking them. But you know what? It doesn’t STOP the suffering. It doesn’t protect anyone. If you’re the djinn? I see what happens when you’re not there. It goes poorly for him. He gets angry and bitter and… oh. Oh that makes a lot more sense now.”

“What?” Ifrit asked. “What… does?”

“He hated himself,” Joan said softly. “No wonder he always… hated me so much. Oh wow. Yeah. If you make a wish I’m going to have to stab him.”

“Stop saying that! It’s not funny!” Ifrit yelled.

“It’s not supposed to be,” Joan said before shaking her head. “You don’t understand, Ifrit. That… failure? It eats at you. Once you fail to save someone? You don’t forget their face. You don’t forget the trust. You never, ever forget the promises you made to them. The vows. You might be able to make yourself forget for a little bit… but they come back. You can’t escape them. You might think that making a wish will save him, but it won’t. It won’t protect him. It will damn him worse than anything else can. As stupid as it sounds, the only way you can protect him is by letting him protect you. Or, well, protecting yourself better I guess.”

“That’s not fair,” Ifrit said gently. “I’m not… I don’t… I can’t…”

“Life isn’t fair,” Joan said. “But he doesn’t give up on you. If you’re gone, so is he. The only way to save him is to not sacrifice yourself for him.”

“You’re insane,” Ifrit said gently. “I… I thought I could trust you, I thought--”

“You thought I could magically make everything better?” Joan asked. “Or that I could agree with you and be all ‘no, throw your life away to keep him safe, it always works out’. Or even tell me ‘surely you’ll keep him safe, right?’ Well… sorry. Life sucks and so do I. But you know what? My plan is simple. You never have to make a wish, he never loses you, nobody dies and all this stuff gets dealt with easy as can be.”

“And if that fails?” Ifrit asked.

“Then we figure it out as we go along. But nobody sacrifices themselves,” Joan said. “Least of all you.”

“But if something happens to me--”

“Then you better find out a way to escape,” Joan said before getting to her feet and stretching. “Because wishing is off the table.”

“Why?” Ifrit asked. “I just… I just want things to go right. I--”

“You’ve never seen them go wrong,” Joan said. “So just focus on making them go right this time. Keep yourself and Francis out of trouble. Also, uhhhh. Don’t mention the whole… djinn thing to anyone else.”

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it to you,” Ifrit snapped bitterly.

“Probably not, no,” Joan said with a shrug. “Oh, you can tell Chase though. He wouldn’t ask you to sacrifice yourself.”

“I… you… I don’t… you’re impossible!” Ifrit yelled before getting to her feet and storming off.

“I get that a lot too!” Joan yelled after her before sighing and looking down at the courtyard below. Well, at least she had some more answers. More questions, too, but when didn’t she? She lightly tapped the beetle on the stone. “Nothing is ever easy, is it? At least some parts of this are fun.”