“Any better?” Bauteut asked.

“Only a tiny bit,” Joan said.

“It takes time, some progress is just the start,” Bauteut said.

“I know, I know. Three?” Joan asked.

“You don’t sound very sure,” Bauteut said.

“It’s hard to see at all,” Joan said. “But I’m going to say three.”

“Two fingers,” Bauteut said before lowering her hand. “But that’s still a little better.”

Joan gave another sigh. She didn’t know what was more annoying. The fact that both Searle and Andreas had managed to learn every single spell and ability she could possibly teach them in the last week, regardless of how little she was currently capable of doing them.

Or the fact that her attempts to learn the ‘dark vision’ spell of Bauteut’s was taking her so long. If she was still the Hero she would have learned it in hours. Instead it would likely be weeks before she could get it to work fully.

“You know, you’re doing rather well,” Bauteut said. “It can take months to learn this spell, years even. At least considering you don’t really have much practice in the fundamentals for it.”

“Please don’t patronize me,” Joan said.

“I’m not,” Bauteut said. “It’s not easy. I only learned this spell in the last year. There’s a reason most people don’t learn it. The fact you are just shows how talented you really are.”

Joan gave a feeble smile, though she didn’t feel like smiling. She knew that Bauteut was trying to help, but it didn’t make her feel any less pathetic. If she was truly capable she would have learned the spell already. How hard could it be? Most demons could see in the dark without using any magic. Yet she still couldn’t make out much in pitch black aside from outlines. “I’m sorry,” Joan said. “It’s just hard to feel like I’m making much progress.”

“I know,” Bauteut said. “I’m guessing you were watching Andreas and Searle earlier?”

“Just a little bit,” Joan said, her cheeks burning. It brought back so many memories. All of the times she had sparred with Hardwin. The ways they had clashed. Blade off blade, spell versus spell. Flames versus whatever she had used. Watching Andreas and Searle fight had been another reminder of how far she had fallen. It had been something entirely different to live it. Now? She could barely even follow their movements. Light versus darkness, shield versus spear. The ground shook when they clashed and at times they moved at speeds she couldn’t even keep up with.

She still wasn’t sure what had happened in some of their strikes. They were already so far advanced beyond what she could ever hope to keep up with. She had managed to accelerate their growth so far beyond what it had been like in their time together as the Hero. It also left one small thought in her mind that just kept nagging at her, despite her desires to push it aside.

“Do you think I was holding them back?” Joan asked.

“When? During training? I don’t think so, you spent hours teaching them how those spells worked,” Bauteut said.

“No, not that,” Joan said. “They’re not as good as they will be one day. But they’re already so much better than they would have been by now, if I was still the Hero. Do you think I was holding them back and this is their real potential?”

“I’d say unlikely,” Bauteut said. “Look at yourself.”

“I do,” Joan said. “My potential doesn’t really apply, though. I can’t--”

“Pick up a mountain and punch down a castle?” Bauteut said. “But you are definitely far beyond anyone else your age. No, you’re far beyond a lot of people twice your age. Some people go their entire lives without achieving the skills you have.”

“How does that really apply to--”

“Because you’re able to apply that knowledge and give direction to people who are able to, physically, use that knowledge,” Bauteut said. “You’re able to teach them all kinds of things they wouldn’t have even considered for another decade or so. Some of the spells you teach them aren’t even spells normal people could learn. You’re able to effectively put them decades ahead of where they are. In a lot of ways, they’re like you.”

Joan gave a light snort. “How are they anything like me?”

“They have the knowledge they need to perform all those spells and abilities. They know they’re possible. Now they just need to get their bodies used to them,” Bauteut said with a snicker. “Who knows? Maybe you can teach them some non-hero things eventually. I’m sure that Searle would love running around in little horns and--” Bauteut suddenly went silent, her eyes going wide. A hand quickly covered her mouth to suppress her gasp before she leaped to her feet and ran out from the room, leaving the door open.

Joan stared for a moment before jumping to her feet and rushing after her, closing the door behind herself. “Bauteut, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Bauteut said. “It’s Andreas, there’s trouble. He said to head to that teleport array we arrived at.”

“What?” Joan asked. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Bauteut said. “He just said to get there immediately and if I see any other healers on the way, grab them too. He already broke the bond.”

Joan nodded, but there wasn’t much more she could say now. Why would they be needed at the array? Were they sending the healers somewhere? She didn’t think Kazora had any outposts that the Demon Lord might have attacked, but she couldn’t be certain.

------

The reality of the situation hit like a hammer to the head when she followed Bauteut into the chamber. It was filled with at least a dozen demons, some of whom she recognized as healers. Primarily due to occasional checkups.

The array wasn’t active though, the lines of it completely dim. Isla was standing in the center of it, along with a few other demons, including Frisk.

“I can’t believe this,” Isla said bitterly. “Where is she? It’s working, isn’t it?”

“It should be,” Frisk said as soothingly as he could, though the worry was evident on his face. “Perhaps she has changed her mind.”

“Not likely,” Andreas said, allowing Joan to notice him up against one of the pillars. “She’s waiting for an opportunity. She doesn’t know if it’s working yet.”

“It better be working,” Isla said before she started pacing. “Everyone, be ready. We don’t know what state she’s--” The pillars began to light up, the runes carved into them illuminated in the glow. Isla quickly moved aside and, after a moment, Korgron’s collapsed body appeared in the middle of the array.

Korgron was was covered in gashes, a hand over her stomach trying to cover up the thick piercing hole that had gone through her. Blood coated nearly every inch of her and she didn’t even look like she was breathing.

Joan couldn’t look away, her eyes wide with horror. She’d seen Korgron like this before, but only a few times. Usually those times were when she was murdered by one of the other chosen. Sometimes when she was fought by the Hero. While those wounds would be fatal for a normal human, for a chosen they could at least be survivable.

They should be, at least. Joan knew that. Joan told herself that. Even as the healers rushed past her and knelt down besides the chosen, she couldn’t look away. Korgron was going to be fine. Korgron had teleported here, right? As severe as those wounds were, the Hero had survived far worse. There were at least a dozen healers here to tend to her wounds and help her recover.

Korgron would be fine. She’d be okay. The Chosen of the Crown was going to be okay.

Joan repeated those words to herself, even while they carried the chosen away. Even as the room slowly emptied. She stared at the blood on the ground, unable to focus on anything else.

Korgron wouldn’t die. She couldn’t die. Not here, not now. She couldn’t.

“Human?” a voice asked, though she pushed it away.

Joan had messed up. She’d gotten arrogant. She sent Korgron off to deal with this thing by herself. She should have known better. It didn’t make any sense, though. Those wounds weren’t anything like the wounds the phantom could have done, even if she was released. There shouldn’t have even been any issues, the seal over the phantom wouldn’t go away for another fifteen years or so.

“Joan?” the voice asked again.

Yet something had happened. Joan had made a mistake. Something else she hadn’t predicted had been there. Something powerful. Something able to hurt Korgron. Something able to kill Korgron. If she hadn’t escaped, she’d be dead now.

Everything had almost failed because of her. She’d been so focused on keeping herself safe that she had failed to consider the fact that the chosen could still be vulnerable. She’d already misjudged Korgron’s power once, could she have made another mistake? Korgron was weaker than she’d ever been. She lacked the experience and training that she normally had by the time they met. Had she just overestimated her?

“Child?” the voice asked. Someone grabbed her shoulder and she yelped, smacking the hand away. It took her a moment later to realize it was Frisk.

“What? What are you doing here?” Joan asked before looking around. How long had she been standing here?

“You seem ill,” Frisk said softly. “You should return to your room.”

“I’m fine,” Joan said. “Korgron, is she--”

“We do not know yet,” Frisk said. “Please. Return to your room. There is enough trouble now without you being underfoot.”

Joan opened her mouth to yell at him, but she stifled the thought. For once, he didn’t look angry or annoyed at her presence. If anything, he looked a lot like how she felt. Worried. Korgron was hurt. All focus needed to be on her for now. It was best that she returned to her room anyway. She had to figure out where she had messed up. How she had messed up. She’d obviously done something terribly wrong, she just didn’t know what. She followed behind Frisk, letting him guide her back towards her room.

This was all her fault. If she had just been more careful. She sent a silent, gentle prayer to the gods. Begging them to help the chosen. To not let her die. If not for her sake, then for the world’s.

Please.

------

Joan stared at the ceiling, unmoving. She wondered if this was how her friends felt whenever she got herself hurt. No, she suspected they felt worse. She at least had the benefit of knowing that, as grievous as those wounds were, the chosen would likely survive. Even if there weren’t a dozen healers tending to her, her own innate abilities as the chosen would likely allow her to heal on her own within a week or so. With the aid of the healers in the city, not to mention her own powers once she was capable of using them, she would likely be back on her feet by the next morning.

In fact, Korgron was likely already far past any stages of danger. All she had to do was wait.

Joan heard a knock on the door and sighed. “Come in,” she called out before turning towards the door. She desperately hoped it was Bauteut, at least she could get an update on the situation then.

To her surprise, however, it was Andreas who walked into her room. “Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Joan said before looking back at the ceiling. “How is she?”

“Not sure,” Andreas said. “Isla is frantic and she told me to go away or she might tear my head off.”

“That’s… unpleasant,” Joan said. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Well, you’re half right,” Andreas said. “It’s not my fault. Not sure how you think it’s your fault when you hurt your hand even punching me and when everything was happening you were with Bauteut. But that’s fine, Isla is just tense right now and doesn’t want to do anything she regrets.”

“I sent her there,” Joan said. “Alone. If I had better prepared her, this wouldn’t have happened. I overestimated her.”

“She won’t like hearing that,” Andreas said before he walked over and sat besides her on the bed. “I’m not sure what happened, but I’m sure it’s not your fault. She’s strong and capable, whatever happened I’m sure would have happened regardless.”

“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” Joan said furiously. “It doesn’t make any sense. The phantom shouldn’t have been able to escape for at least another decade. Maybe more. Even if it had, there is no way it could have been that much stronger than Korgron. I wouldn’t have sent her if she’d be in any real danger.” She could already feel his response to that. “And yes, I know you feel the same way about me, that’s not the point. The point is I SHOULD have known what was happening. But there is nothing else there BUT the seal. There weren’t any burn marks, so it couldn’t have been the Inferno God or the Demon Lord. I don’t think there is any demon that could do that. At least none that would be that far from the deepest parts of the demon lands. It doesn’t make any sense. What did I miss?” she yelled, unable to keep her voice steady any more. “I keep going over everything and yet I can’t find the solution! It doesn’t make any sense! What use am I if I can’t even stop this from happening?”

“Joan,” Andreas said. “It’s not your fault. We’re not even sure what happened yet. Until she wakes up, there’s no telling what—”

“What if I can’t be trusted anymore?” Joan asked. “What if I am entirely useless? What if I know all these things but they’re just wrong? I give you the knowledge, but if it’s useless knowledge and gets you all killed? Then I damn the world in a new, exciting way. This isn’t the way it is supposed to be. It’s never the way it is supposed to be. I can’t keep doing this.” She rolled over and dug her head into the pillow, her arms wrapping around it to hold it to her mouth and scream.

Then she just waited, holding it to her face and waiting. She desperately wanted Andreas to argue with her. To disagree with her. To tell her she was wrong. Instead all she could hear was him giving a sigh.

Joan slowly lifted her head off the pillow. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she said.

“No,” Andreas said.

Joan cringed and nodded. “I’m--”

“I’m not going to argue over stupidity,” Andreas said. “You can try arguing that fire is cold or that water is dry, but if the discussion begins from such a stupid place, I refuse to waste my time on such a thing.”

Joan gave a soft sigh and glanced up. “Oh? Then please, no argument. Tell me how I’m any good,” she asked.

Andreas reached out and grabbed her wrist before holding it up and lightly tapping the ring. For a moment she couldn’t help being more annoyed. He was the one who got the ring, not her.

It took her a moment to realize what he meant. “Oh,” Joan said. “I guess, sometimes, what I suggest and tell is accurate. But what about the times it’s not? Things are changing and--”

“And some things aren’t,” Andreas said. “You didn’t know everything in the past when you were the Hero, why do you expect it to change now? In the end, you tell us what we can expect. If things aren’t exactly what you thought, we need to be ready for it. We’re still given a lot more information than you had as the Hero. So it won’t do any good to blame yourself when things aren’t exactly as you expected.”

Joan nodded before sighing. “Maybe you should read my journal.”

“Journal?” Andreas asked.

“The one I’ve been having Searle keep safe,” Joan said. “It has everything I can remember, everything that I know. It’s just… I keep remembering new things. Every time I think on it, or focus on it, new things come to mind. So when I tell you guys all that I can about it, so many new bits of information come to mind to let you know. It’s just so, you know? Like it’s there, but not there.”

“I don’t understand at all,” Andreas said.

“There’s a lot I’ve been adding to the journal just since you two arrived,” Joan said. “Half the time when I’m meeting with Searle each day I’m just adding more things. All of the little puzzles and the battles and the traps and everything. Just all coming alive.”

“It sounds more like you need to talk to us about it than anything,” Andreas said.

“I think I do and that’s what’s so much worse,” Joan said. “We’ve done this so many times. I forget something, all of you have to deal with the consequences. I keep getting mad at myself for not remembering, you tell me it’s not my fault. Or you doubt me. Or you suspect I’m hiding something. But I just can’t figure it out!”

“Do you wish you didn’t have to?” Andreas asked. “Remember, I mean.”

“No,” Joan said. “Yes? If the world wasn’t doomed if not for this information then… no. I’d still want to remember. I don’t want to lose those parts of me. I just wish I could remember what I can’t. As stupid as that sounds.”

Andreas gave a small nod, crossing his arms.

Joan laid there once more and stared at the ceiling in silence. After a few minutes she glanced back to him. “You’ve changed too.”

“I have?” Andreas asked. “In good ways, I hope.”

“The best ways,” Joan said. “For example, whenever you’d get worried you’d go and isolate yourself before. You’d never come to me to just relax in my presence.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Andreas said quickly. “I told you, Isla--”

“Kicked you out because you were worried,” Joan said with a small smile. “You used to bury it a lot more. You’re so much more readable now, Andreas. I wonder what the Hero would have thought of you had he seen you like this.”

“He’d have probably thought it was worse,” Andreas said with a chuckle.

“Probably. But the Hero was an idiot,” Joan said. “Joan is a lot smarter.”

“She certainly thinks she is,” Andreas said.

“It was a really low goal to achieve,” Joan said. “The Hero was chosen by the gods, but not for his intellect.”

“Stubbornness, then? Recklessness?” Andreas asked.

“Probably,” Joan said. “You know what, though?”

“What?” Andreas asked.

“I’m really worried too,” Joan said. “I know she’s going to be okay. I’ve seen her come back from worse. I’ve seen all of us come back from worse. But I’m still worried. Even though I know she’s going to be okay. Isn’t that weird?”

“No,” Andreas said before sighing. “I know she’ll be okay, but I’m still worried.”

“She won’t die,” Joan said gently. “She can’t. I know she can’t. I just…”

“I know,” Andreas said.

After a moment there was another knock on the door.

“Come in,” Joan said.

This time, to her surprise, it was Searle who stood in the doorway. Once he saw the two of them, he froze. “Oh, uhh. Andreas, Joan. Sorry I was just--”

“Worried about Korgron?” Joan asked.

Searle gave a small nod, lowering his head.

“Hoping that coming to me would give you some insight into if she’ll be okay or not?” Joan asked.

Again, Searle nodded.

Joan reached down and lightly patted the bed besides Andreas. “Come on. And yes, she’ll be okay. I’ve seen all of us survive worse wounds than that. She won’t die.”

“Really?” Searle asked, his voice lighting up a little bit.

“She won’t,” Joan said before looking up at the two chosen. She supposed there still was, in the end, that bond between all of them. If one of them hurt, they all hurt. If one required help, they all worried.

If none of them could help, they all felt powerless.

Maybe that was something they all still shared. While she did have the advantage of having seen them all survive far more grievous injuries, she’d also seen all of them die. The reality of what could happen was just as strong for her as it was for them.

So Korgron would be okay. She had to be okay. They all needed her. Chosen and ex-hero.

MelodyAvant

Please rate and review if you can to help the story get more attention. Also I'd love it if you left a comment with your thoughts on the chapter as it really helps me to identify what my readers enjoy reading.

If you'd like to help support me and my writing, please take a look at my Patreon which offers early access chapters as well as monthly voting to determine which of the series will be written next. Alternatively, full copies of my books can be purchased through amazon on my author page. If you'd like to support me directly I now have a ko-fi page.

Finally, if you would like to talk more about the series or talk to me directly, please feel free to join my discord server. I also now have a twitter page where I announce news and releases.