Rrillandral leapt from tree to tree, none of her enemies able to pierce her [Stealth]. It was her best, highest level skill; her desire to maintain a youthful appearance heavily limited what she could learn, and most of her budget had been spent on its sub-skills. Alas, that meant that while her enemies couldn't see her, there were limits to what she could do to them. Anything with fast reactions was a risk. Anything with natural defences was completely safe from her. Nevertheless, she was killing quickly, slaying more demons in one hour than in the previous ten cycles combined.

It wasn't enough.

Screams echoed around her as her fellow elves fell one by one to the claws of their aggressors. The line of defence was being pushed back, deeper and deeper into the forest. The air already tasted foul, miasma leaking from the demons, both living and dead, mixing in with the iron tang of blood.

They weren't going to win. The forest would fall.

The Heart could not be evacuated. It was a part of the forest. It couldn't be moved any more than the trees could. And yet its beating supported all elves. For as long as life pulsed within it, elven-kind would survive. Should it be destroyed, they would perish with it.

Should it be corrupted...

Rrillandral shuddered, imagining her soulless husk, enslaved to the demon lord, attacking the mortal lands against her will, her twisted family and friends battling alongside her. That must not come to pass. The end of elven-kind was preferable to its subversion and corruption.

With a heavy heart, she left the frontline, racing towards the Heart and her father. After all, this mess was her responsibility. The pain of ending it should fall to her.

She found her father—Brylyndril Lehibeborn, the [Monarch of the Vale]—standing in the Heart's antechamber. The inner doors were open, his head bowed towards them. He looked even older than usual, his back bent, his skin thin and pallid. But while he looked long past his prime, the Heart was not so affected. The mana within swirled around as it beat, each thump pumping it upwards into the trees. It was a truly beautiful sight.

And it was her duty to destroy it.

"Let me shoulder this burden," she offered. "It is mine to bear."

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

"Yes. Very much so."

"Why?"

Rrillandral blinked. "What manner of question is that? I have doomed us all!"

"Have you? You sought my permission, did you not? In what way are you to blame over me?"

"Because I begged you!"

"Many people have begged me for much, in the past. Sometimes I have acquiesced. Other times, I have not. Why do you think I agreed to your request?"

Rrillandral frowned, not having been expecting an inquisition. There wasn't time.

"I bribed you!"

The elderly king snorted with derision. "Bribed me? You honestly think me bribable? What is it that you think you bribed me with, exactly? Try again."

Rrillandral pondered. What did she think she'd bribed her father with? She'd answered so assuredly, but no amount of wealth would change his mind about something, and there was nothing she could remember giving him in exchange... Maybe she'd dreamt it? Then what other answer could there be?

"The potential risks were thought to be containable; if demons never found out the [Hero] was here, they'd have no reason to attack. Meanwhile, the potential rewards were vast. The end of a cycle before it had even begun, with the potential for this to be the last cycle."

This time, he nodded. "So it was. I deemed that the potential rewards outweighed the risks. The chance for this to be the final cycle was worth the risk of exposing the existence of the Heart to the demons. I chose to gamble. What gambler has the right to complain at a loss? Although, I will admit your bribe was a nice bonus."

He grinned a little at that, despite the situation.

"What bribe?" asked Rrillandral. "That was... real?"

He snorted again, this time with a little more humour.

"Where'd all of your earlier confidence go? You fool of a daughter; completely blind to what's going on right under your nose. Well, you came to ask me to take this burden, and we are short on time, so let me give you my answer."

He clicked his fingers and the inner doors slammed shut, a dozen wards slotting into place, locking the Heart away.

"No."

"Father!" gasped Rrillandral. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. It's not like there's anything I can do. You, on the other hand..."

A boom sounded from outside, the entire tree vibrating.

"What? What are you talking about? There's no more time. We must destroy the Heart!"

"I said no. Instead, I have a different order for you, my child. Remember."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" gasped Rrillandral, dropping all attempts at decorum.

"It's a fairly clear order, is it not? You have forgotten much. If you wish to save the Heart, you need only remember what you have lost."

Another boom sounded, the shaking worse this time. The wood creaked and groaned, a few hairline cracks opening up.

"Father, I beg you. Stop talking in riddles!"

This time, the elderly elf laughed loud and hard. "Again you 'beg' me, but as I said, sometimes I acquiesce, and other times I do not. On this occasion, I do not."

A scream sounded from outside, abruptly cut off, replaced by a dying gurgle.

"I suppose, since you are my precious daughter, I can give you one clue," he muttered as something hammered on the door to the outside, the wood cracking under the blows. "This [Hero] who I chose to shelter here. What was their name?"

Rrillandral opened her mouth to answer the stupid question, only to find that words failed her.

She didn't know.

How could she not know the name of the [Hero]?

An earlier thought came to mind, of her confusion over the population of demons given the act of someone named 'Grace'.

"Was it Grace?" she hazarded.

"Nah. That was a member of the hero's party, but not the hero themself. A sheltered human princess, getting embarrassed over every little thing. It was cute."

"The hero's party?" repeated Rrillandral as another blow shook the door, small splinters of wood breaking off it. Had the [Hero] they'd sheltered come with a party?

Another blow hit the door, and this time, it shattered. Wards snapped in a series of flashes, leaving behind an acrid smell, shards of wood showering the antechamber.

Rrillandral knew full well the inner door would hold no longer than the outer one. Everything was over. Even if she remembered whatever it was she'd forgotten, how would it help protect the Heart from demons that were already here?

Four familiar faces stepped through the door. The party of four arch-demons she had fought as part of the party of the previous [Hero]. The lion-headed Melcrinash. Xander, his flesh burnt away in their last battle. Blumshtik, the humanoid mound of fat. And finally Dreobeth, who thankfully, despite appearances, was not grachen.

"Ah, so this is where the little princess was hiding," smirked the evil fairy.

"Along with her daddy," hissed Melcrinash's tail.

A lot happened all at once. Xander blasted his red lightning into the room as Blumshtik and Melcrinash charged in, one targeting each elf. Lacking the ability to fight back effectively, Rrillandral engaged [Stealth], but Dreobeth fired off a complex burst of miasma that ripped her straight back out of it. Brylyndril fought back more effectively, drawing a pair of moon blades. One strike took off Melcrinash's tail, but the second embedded itself ineffectually into Blumshtik's bulk. He laughed as he punched clumsily at the elven king, who tried to dodge, but Xander took advantage, catching him in the chest with a fireball.

Brylyndril slammed into a wall, winded, his clothes burning, and he wasn't able to resist as Blumshtik launched a second punch. This one crushed his head like a watermelon, splattering the room with brain tissue and fragments of skull.

"Father!" screamed Rrillandral.

"You don't have the leeway to be worrying about others," laughed Melcrinash, grabbing her by the neck and lifting her clean from the floor, where she started choking, unable to breathe.

"Careful now," said Dreobeth. "After all, it's only fair I should extend to her the same courtesy that she showed me."

"Pfft," snorted Melcrinash, tossing Rrillandral into a wall where she fell, stunned, gasping for air. "I still can't believe she spared you. You'd think that with all her experience, she'd know better."

"Don't... you... dare..." gasped Rrillandral.

"Oh?"

"Mercy... is not... weakness."

That much was obvious. Misplaced mercy sure was, though. When had she spared Dreobeth? What could have caused her to spare the life of a demon? Another missing memory?

A crash drew her attention, and she turned to see Blumshtik hammering on the inner door. "No!" she shouted. "You won't have the Heart!"

"Oh? And how do you intend to stop us?" asked Dreobeth, hovering in front of her face. "Xander?"

The skeleton clicked his fingers, the bones of Brylyndril crawling from his body in response, wrapping themselves around Rrillandral and binding her to the wall, the elf too winded to resist.

"No..." she cried as she watched the inner door buckle and crack under the assault. "Remember! I must remember!" she shouted, grasping at the final straw she had left.

"Remember? Aww, are you going senile in your old age?" laughed Dreobeth. "Starting to forget things?"

The inner door broke. The pair of brawny demons took up position on either side of it as Xander stepped in.

Rrillandral screamed in agony as her mana twisted within her, but she was helpless to resist as the miasma invaded her body. The beauty of the Heart warped as the colours drained, replaced by murky darkness. A foul ink that was being pumped through the forest, killing it and everything that lived within.

"Remember!" she gasped. "I need to... remember! If only Grace was here, she could..."

Sound faded from her world as she realised what she'd just thought. Even the pain was dulled as she focused everything she had on that tiny little nugget of knowledge. Grace could purify miasma. Not in the usual way of drawing it out of someone and destroying it, but by turning it back to pure mana. If she were to purify the Heart, the Vale could be saved. But where was she?

Where had the [Hero] gone? Why was Rrillandral here alone?

A detached part of her mind watched her veins turn black as miasma flowed along them, her skin greying as the life left it, her nails lengthening into claws. But her own life wasn't important. If there was truly a chance to end the demon lord for good, her life would be a small price to pay.

What was special about this [Hero]?

Her consciousness fading, she watched a single leaf float in from above, fallen through a crack in the ceiling. Dropped from a plant somewhere, and already yellowing from the damage to the Heart. Life in the forest was already fading. It wasn't Autumn. Leaves should be green.

"Leaf Green," she muttered.

"Oh? Still awake over there? You poor thing," mocked Dreobeth.

"Leaf Green!" she repeated, more strongly. "That's what I bribed him with! Then why didn't he use it?"

The realisation hit her like a brick. The elves had a powerful new weapon to deal with invaders, yet no-one had used it. What had taken her memories? How were there so many demons? Why had her father seemed completely unconcerned about the fate of the Heart?

Or rather, about the fate of this Heart.

It wasn't the real one.

"Dammit! I'm trapped in a dream! A dream eater? Or something using a similar ability?"

Her corrosion halted, the demonisation process pausing as she realised these events were not real, and her certain knowledge in turn influenced the world. It wasn't the real Heart that was being corrupted, so it had no reason to affect her.

Or looked at from the other side, up until now, she'd let the dream corrupt her. As her father had said, a fool of a daughter indeed...

"What are you blathering about now? Going mad from the pain?" taunted Dreobeth, but Rrillandfral couldn't miss the hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Shut up," snapped Rrillandral, concentrating. "Rose escaped from one of these, and I'm damn well not going to let her show me up by failing to escape myself. So that only leaves one question. Or maybe two, actually. One, how to escape, and two, who the heck is Rose?"

"I think you've had your fun. It's time to kill her now," demanded Melcrinash, somewhat alarmed by the change in attitude.

"Perhaps so," agreed Dreobeth.

"You know what?" sighed Rrillandral. "I'll make this easy for you. Hurry up, I'm absolutely busting for a wee!"

"Well, if you really insist," grinned Melcrinash, stepping forward.

"Careful, you fool! That was a spell invocation."

"Oh? I didn't think she could use any?"

"Just because she doesn't, doesn't mean she can't. Tell me, what did you do?"

Rrillandral didn't answer. Or rather, she couldn't. She fell limp, out cold from mana exhaustion, but nevertheless she was smiling faintly. After all, even if you don't know where the front door is, you could always leave a building by knocking a hole in a wall.

Meteor after meteor slammed into the Vale, smashing apart demon, elf, tree and dream alike.

Despite the destruction all around her, she felt no pain, and she opened her eyes to an eye-sucking darkness, in the middle of which an unfamiliar face peered down at her.

"Welcome back," said the face. "From your look of confusion, I'm guessing you don't recognise me? Well, I'm Rose, the one behind you nursing the bump on her head is Grace, and now that you've escaped, any missing memories should return fairly quickly. You do not—and this is important—need to kiss anyone to get them back."

"I wasn't planning to," replied Rrillandral, laughing. How could she ever have forgotten those two, or the even weirder [Hero] that had brought them together? Mystery. That was the name her father had asked for. How much of the dream had been real? Had her father really only agreed to shelter her because he foresaw the hope of ending the demon lord for good, and not because of the chance to regain his youth?

Then far be it from her to disappoint him.