Joan cringed when another bump made the cage rattle and sent more aches through her body. She’d finally taken to just laying flat on the floor of the wagon. While the floor was uncomfortable, resting against the bars was even worse.

She glanced over to Andreas, who was walking besides the wagon. “Are the ropes really necessary?” she asked before holding up her bound wrists. “I’m in the cage, aren’t I?”

“You were in the cage before as well,” Andreas said. “If you weren’t so much trouble, kid, you could be untied.”

Joan sighed and closed her eyes. She glanced at Caius and Lamberto. The former wasn’t doing much better, though at least he didn’t mutter much anymore. Ever since they had left the forests behind he had just stared behind them. The latter was just as quiet as ever, though occasionally she would hear soft, grumbled sounds from him so she was fairly certain he wasn’t dead. Yet.

On the up side, she was pretty sure she knew where they were now. Every so often she would catch a glimpse of one of the giant, eight legged spiders disappearing deeper into the mountains, the monsters wanting nothing to do with the caravan of demons making their way through the territory. Still, whenever the sun went down the night watch seemed more alert than ever and they even had torches surrounding the camp, though she suspected it was more to ensure nothing came near the camp.

Not that she would try to escape in the night again. While she did have a general idea of where they were now, it could take weeks before she’d find Korgron’s home from here. Assuming she didn’t get killed by the spiders or any of the other demonic threats that resided here. Running off in the middle of the night now would be suicide. She would take her time or escape during the day when she could see.

Once more Joan mentally screamed at Gerard. If he had just been more careful, if he hadn’t shoved open the door, maybe she’d have escaped then. Now she had to find some way to escape before she ended up on the Demon Lord’s lap.

She gave a light whimper and closed her eyes tighter, not wanting to imagine the tortures he’d put her through to find out what she knew. As damned as the world already was, it would only harden its fate if he got access to this information. She’d sooner kill herself than allow that.

But that wasn’t going to happen, because she would escape. She promised herself. Somehow she’d find a way.

She--

‘Kid, don’t freak out,’ Andreas’ voice suddenly said, though she didn’t hear it from her ears, she heard it in her head. She would have been very confused, except she had seen him use this spell a million times. She, technically, even knew how to do it. Not that her magic was remotely strong enough now to perform such a spell for more than a few moments. Fortunately, with him forming the bond it was easy enough for her to connect to it and respond.

‘What do you want?’ Joan asked back, sending her own voice back to him. She opened her eyes and glanced over at him and was rewarded with a startled look on his face.

‘How did you do that?’ Andreas asked. ‘How did you know how to do that?’

‘You showed me like a thousand times,’ Joan said back. ‘What do you want?’ She knew it was petty but she honestly really enjoyed seeing him so flustered.

‘I was going to teach you how to talk back over this--’

‘I already know how, obviously,’ Joan said back. He turned to look at her and she pointedly rolled her eyes. ‘I told you who I was and what I was. Did you really think I wouldn’t know this?’

‘…’ The silence was, oddly, deafening.

‘Is this seriously what’s going to make you start believing me?’ Joan asked. ‘This isn’t even a special thing. It’s basic shadow magic. Anyone can learn it and even form the bonds if they’re strong enough. I’m just not yet.’

‘Maybe one day you will be,’ Andreas said.

‘Unless you’ve changed your mind about tributing me, I doubt it,’ Joan said.

‘Dixon said he isn’t going to kill you. He’s taking you to see his brother,’ Andreas said.

‘The Demon Lord doesn’t HAVE a brother!’ Joan said with all the ferocity she could muster over the mental communication.

‘He—’

‘He doesn’t. I know. I checked. We all checked,’ Joan said. ‘It doesn’t make any sense. The Demon Lord was alone. No family. No parents, no siblings. Just like the rest of us.’

‘Rest of us?’ Andreas asked.

‘You, me, the rest of the chosen. None of us have any family. We were alone. I--’ Joan stopped in mid sentence, a frown forming on her lips. It was a good thing she wasn’t the one supporting the connection or it would have collapsed there. ‘No. I guess that’s not true.’

‘Oh? Remember something else?’ Andreas asked.

‘I had a mother. She just wasn’t around much,’ Joan said. ‘I can’t remember much about her. I don’t think she really liked me much.’

‘So only you had any?’ Andreas asked.

‘As far as anyone ever told me. I guess Chase might have had some family, but he didn’t talk about them much. Most of Neia’s family had died from the plague with the rest of the elder elves, Thalgren’s died in battle against the demon, Hardwin’s mom is alive but before she was dead, Korgron was an only child and she never wanted to speak about what happened to her parents and I didn’t push, you said you’d been alone for ages and Searle, well, Searle had nobody.’

‘You don’t say,’ Andreas said, though there was something there, she could feel it. She narrowed her eyes on him, watching his features. Unfortunately, he looked away.

‘What? Is something wrong? Why form this bond with me?’ Joan asked before sitting up.

‘I’m going to be leaving soon,’ Andreas said. ‘I likely won’t be back until dusk.’

‘Okay, so?’ Joan asked.

‘I’ll be keeping this bond active during that time. If anything happens, reach out to me for help and I’ll ensure someone comes and deals with it,’ Andreas said.

‘Oh? Now you care?’ Joan asked, a little hope beginning to blossom.

‘Dixon said you’re my responsibility. If Viglan comes looking for payback, I’m not having my head put on a pike over his anger,’ Andreas said.

Joan felt that hope crumble before she gave a soft sigh. ‘Fine. If he comes near, I’ll call. You can come be my hero. You know, right before you send me off to my death.’

‘Kid, it’s nothing personal. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ Andreas said. ‘If things were different--’

‘You’d have been one of my closest, most loyal friends,’ Joan said, cutting him off. ‘The difference between us, Andreas, is I remember you being exactly that. I would have happily died for you. Well. At least now it looks like I will.’

Andreas didn’t respond and, for a moment, she wondered if he broke the connection between the two of them. But she could still feel that dark, warm connection bonding them. Shadow magic had always been strange like that.

Joan laid there for a long while, looking up at the backside of the cart pulling demon. Were she still the Hero she would have broken the bonds on her wrists with a mighty flex, jumped to her feet and kicked open the door of the cage. Likely ridden the massive demon into battle, slaying demons by the dozen.

Instead she had to just lay there and wait. There was no possible way that Dixon was the Demon Lord’s brother. The Demon Lord had no brother, Korgron would have told her if he had. Had Dixon died earlier in the times where she had been the Hero? Or had the Demon Lord forsaken him? Was it possible that it was just a closely guarded secret? They had tried to find out if the Demon Lord had family for a time, but they’d never had much success. They’d all just assumed he was like the rest of them, all family gone.

Odd, now that she actually thought about it she couldn’t help but almost feel pity for him. All of them had been thrown into this battle of the gods, him as the pawn of the Inferno God, her and the chosen the pawns of the fourteen. Had it been misfortune that led to them not having families? Or was it the will of the gods that they all be alone? Was family just something that could hold them all back from their divine duties?

“I just want some answers,” Joan said softly. “Gods, why? Why put us through this?”

“Because it is all part of a plan,” an old, scratchy voice said, making her jump. She looked around for a moment to find the source and, to her surprise, Lamberto was staring at her.

“A plan?” Joan asked, cocking an eye. It seemed he finally had worked up the nerve to talk to her, though she wasn’t sure if this was better or worse.

“Indeed. The Hero’s plan,” the old man said. “The fate woven by the Three Sisters.”

Joan groaned and closed her eyes. Worse it was. “I don’t think this is their plan at all. Nor the any heroes.”

“But it is,” Lamberto said, his voice slow and calm. “It looks bleak now and we may die, but there is always a plan. Come here, child.”

“I think I’m fine where I am. Ropes and all. Don’t see too well, do you?” Joan asked.

Lamberto blinked and slowly shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not anymore.”

That made Joan feel guilty and she cringed slightly. “Oh. Sorry, then. So, it’s all part of the Hero’s plan that we die, tributed to some dark god and a host of demons?” she asked, quickly changing the topic back to another uncomfortable one.

“Though our lives be filled with misery, our next lives will surely be better,” Lamberto said. “This is merely the darkness before the light. One day soon the Hero will appear and rid this world of their kind, charging ahead of the chosen.”

Joan gave another soft, exasperated sigh. She wondered how he could even believe that. Then again, he hadn’t lived a thousand lifetimes watching the Hero fall on his face again and again. He wasn’t some divine instrument of knowledge and wisdom, following some incredible plan. Most of the time he was just running around and trying, desperately, to stem the bleeding of what felt like a dying world. “Sure he will,” Joan said, unable to keep any of the sarcasm out of her voice.

Unfortunately the worst then happened.

Lamberto began to, very softly, sing.

“In the darkest of night’s when the world trembles in fright…”

Joan internally screamed. Oh, how she knew this song. How she loathed this song.

“When there’s nobody who can stand against the demon’s might…”

An ode to her past lives. How fitting it would be the last song she ever heard.

“When hope has been lost and the world cries out for its light…”

She could remember raising a mug to the air and cheering on bards when they sang this happy, carefree song. Back when she believed that, as a legendary hero, failure was impossible.

“It is then that he’ll appear to set everything right,” the man sang, unknowing or uncaring about the torment he was causing. “With the Star of the Hero and the loyalty of the Chosen, he’ll rise up and save those who’ve shown their devotion!” His voice was only getting louder, more firm with every word.

Joan didn’t know if she could take much more. She lifted her hands to her head and clutched it, wishing she could get them over her ears. Even if her head didn’t hurt, she felt it should have. It felt like her soul hurt.

“Be it the Plaguebringer or the Cloud of Night or the--”

“SHUT UP!” Joan finally screamed, sitting up and staring at him. “Shut up shut up SHUT UP! There is no hero coming, there’s no Star of the Hero, there’s nobody who is going to magically set all this right! Even if he WAS here what would he do? Kick in the door and fight all the demons? Save us? Why? Do you think he knew about this? Do you think he’d care? All he’d do is fight and fight and fight and just think that if he stabbed enough things he’d somehow save the world! Only to make it all worse in the end and ruin everything! If you’re going to sing about someone, sing about the Chosen! At least THEY can still fix things!”

Lamberto stared at her, but didn’t speak. Instead he lowered his head, returning to his quiet, easy to ignore self. Caius, as she expected by now, didn’t speak. Though he was now staring at her. She glared back until he looked away.

Joan laid there in silence for a long while before finally glancing around the caravan. She’d forgotten to ask why Andreas was leaving to begin with. On top of that, she could now see that he wasn’t the only one to leave, it looked like a lot of others had left as well.

Not Viglan though. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him over near the front of the caravan. He was looking back at her with his good eye, the other covered with an eye patch. He looked away the moment she looked at him, though. She wondered if he was going to try and do something to her. At least Andreas had been smart enough to allow her to contact him. A part of her hoped this meant he was going to help her after all, even save her.

Another part of her told her she should knock those thoughts off before she ended up getting herself killed. He’d made himself abundantly clear. He didn’t care about her, wasn’t going to help her. Even if he wanted to help her, what could he possibly do without the spear? He was certainly more powerful than the average human, but so were demons.

Joan glanced up and saw Viglan eyeing her again. She gave a sigh before closing her eyes. Oh, he was definitely going to try something. She’d seen that angry look before, had it directed at her a few times. Probably try to stab her in the night or something. Tear out her eyes. The moment there was an opportunity he’d probably come after her. ‘He’s going to try something,’ she mentally said to Andreas.

She was greeted by silence for a long moment before she heard his voice echo in her head. ‘What?’

‘Viglan.’

‘Now? I’ll--’

‘Not now,’ Joan said, cutting him off again. ‘He’s watching me, though. Probably tonight or some night soon. He’s angry.’

‘You partially blind him,’ Andreas said.

‘He tried to kill me, it was warranted,’ Joan said back.

‘I doubt he sees it that way,’ Andreas said. ‘I’m kind of busy. Anything else you need?’

‘No, sor-- wait. I’m not sorry. You’re sending me off to die. I should just keep annoying you. La la la la la la la,’ Joan screamed over the spell.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ Andreas asked.

‘No. I mean, you could just close the bond. But then if Viglan does try anything, I can’t contact you,’ Joan said.

‘He might kill you,’ Andreas said.

‘The Demon Lord certainly will. Viglan would likely be quicker and less painful,’ Joan said back. ‘La la la la la.’

‘You are incredibly petty,’ Andreas said.

‘I prefer to think of it as stubborn,’ Joan said.

‘Is this your plan? Annoy me until I decide to rescue you?’ Andreas said.

‘You’re a chosen. If you refuse to accept it, the world is damned anyway. There’s nothing I can do. I tried being nice, you ignored me. I tried telling you the truth, you either don’t believe me or don’t care. Annoying you is all I’ve really got left,’ Joan said.

‘It’s a terrible plan,’ Andreas said, she could all but feel the annoyance over the bond.

‘Desperate times call for desperate measures. Frankly, though, if I can’t convince you? We’re all already damned anyway. You know what happens, you know why you’re needed. There’s nothing more I can do. If I’m going to fail, I might as well die in the most petty, angry way possible. With my last breath I will kick this world in the jaw for the destiny it threw in my lap.’

To her surprise she actually heard laughter over the connection that time. ‘I see. Very well, hero, you have fun with that.’

Joan sighed and stared up at the sky once more. It was filled with clouds, but at least it wasn’t raining. She wondered how long until they arrived. Hours? Days? Still, she felt like she was slowly going mad. ‘Andreas?’

‘What?’ he asked.

‘You haven’t told them who I am,’ Joan said.

‘Yes I have,” Andreas said. ‘A child with a lot of fancy stories she made up to try and get sympathy.’

‘They’re not stories,’ Joan said. ‘They’re the truth.’

‘Of course they’re the truth,’ Andreas said, though she was certain she could feel the sarcasm even through the bond.

‘It is. I know you, Andreas. I know your favorite fruit is blackberries and it’s the only sweet thing you can stand. I know your mother once said you should be a bard, but you always hated singing. I know your dad was a wood carver and used to make the cutest little wooden ducks that you played with when you were a child. I know that you, honestly, don’t want to be one of the Chosen. You hate working, any work. Big, small, it doesn’t matter. You’ll do it, but you want to just be left alone. Your ideal home is a small cottage in the woods, away from everyone else. You hate celebrations, as everyone gets so loud and boisterous. You’ve always found it so hollow and empty. I know so much about you.’

‘Really. I will admit I find it odd. You are correct on some things, but so wrong on others,’ Andreas said.

‘Because things are different now. But it doesn’t change who you are. What you are. You are the Chosen of the Spear. The world needs you, Andreas. I need you,’ Joan said.

‘You and the world will just have to be disappointed then,’ Andreas said.

Joan wished Bauteut and Searle were here. They’d save her. Or Hardwin. Or any of the chosen. Her eyes shot open and she sat up. ‘Andreas,’ Joan said over their bond once more.

‘What now?’ Andreas asked.

‘Contact Searle,’ Joan said.

‘What?’ Andreas asked.

‘Contact him. Your magic could reach there, I know it can. He’ll confirm everything. He could bring the spear to you. Together you could… never mind,’ Joan said before plopping back down with a sigh.

‘That was quick. Changed your mind?’ Andreas asked.

‘It’d be stupid,’ Joan said. ‘Between you and him is the demon’s main forces. He’d need to go to the capital, grab the spear and then, somehow, get all the way back here. Without running into the Demon Lord or who knows what else. It’d be suicide.’

‘Probably,’ Andreas said and, to his credit, he almost sounded apologetic.

‘How long until we arrive, Andreas?’ Joan asked.

‘I can’t say. They move it each time,’ Andreas said.

‘Wonderful,’ Joan said before going silent once more. She didn’t know what she could say, or how she could say it. She wanted desperately to do something, but all she could do now was wait until an opportunity presented itself. ‘You should reach out to Searle anyway.’

‘What?’ Andreas asked.

‘He can’t come here and save me. But he might be able to save you.’

‘I’m not the one in a cage.’

‘Yet,’ Joan said. ‘Both you and Korgron need the other Chosen. I gave you enough information about him, you should be able to make a connection. They won’t leave you here.’

‘They left you,’ Andreas said.

‘They don’t know I’m here, if they did they’d probably do something stupid. But it’d be too late, I’d already be gone,’ Joan said. ‘But one of the seven chosen? You’re irreplaceable. They can get you out of this. Both of you.’

‘You really seem to believe I know this Korgron, don’t you?’ Andreas asked.

‘Of course. I’m not sure why you met in this time but not the others, but the--’

‘The fairy person showed you all of that, right? You really do have an active imagination, don’t you?’ Andreas asked. ‘Stop bothering me unless it’s important. I’m busy.’

‘Maybe,’ Joan said. ‘If I agree to stop bothering you, will you make me a promise?’

‘No,’ Andreas said.

‘Promise you’ll contact Searle after I’m gone. He’ll help you, I know he will. That’s all. Talk with him. Please,’ Joan said.

She was greeted with silence for a long while after that and she began to wonder if he had finally just broken the connection. Finally his voice echoed in her head once more. ‘If I promise, you will stop being a brat?’

‘I will stop bothering you unless it’s important,’ Joan said. ‘Apparently being a brat is an innate thing, I don’t know if I can stop it.’

There was another soft laugh from that. ‘Very well, Joan. I promise that once this is over, I will contact Searle. Now shush.’

Joan smiled before closing her eyes once more. At least she could get the Chosen on the right path together once more. Searle had her tome, Korgron and Andreas would eventually find their way to them. Hardwin was getting Thalgren. All that left were Neia and Chase. Neia, at least, would be simple. Chase would be rough, but she had to believe they could find him.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she was dead yet. There had to be a way to escape before she was brought to the Demon Lord. She just had to bide her time and wait for the ideal moment. Who knew? Maybe she could even wound him and buy the chosen more time before she died. It wasn’t over until she drew her last breath and she would draw it while wounding whatever threatened the world.

MelodyAvant

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