How can I save the world if I’m no longer the hero?

Joan was halfway back to her room before she finally managed to clear her mind enough to speak. “Why would they think that I was a traitor?”

“I’ll be honest, if I didn’t know you I’d assume you were,” Bauteut said before glancing back. “Silverleaf Woods? Changeling Patriarch? Nobody mentioned anything about those and you talked as if you’d already dealt with them. No, you talked as if you knew everything about them. Do you realize just how suspicious that is?”

Joan shook her head. “Because my visions tell me that--”

“Your visions seem incredibly accurate,” Bauteut said firmly, cutting her off. “How do you think that looks to be the only one who knows this stuff? I believe you, Searle believes you. But they may not. Worse, if there IS a traitor here you’re a key suspect. You’re about as subtle as a bull charging through the stable.”

“If I was a traitor, why would I have been trying to get them to the chosen? Why would I be trying to help them?”

“I don’t know,” Bauteut said with a shake of her head before they stepped off the stairs and into the hall of her room. “A long term plan? He’s important, but sending him off into those woods alone would be suicide. Especially since the demons have pushed up to--”

“Then I’ll go alone,” Joan said firmly. “Someone needs to do this. I’ll give Searle all the info I have and then go. If I’m a traitor, then it doesn’t matter if I die. But if we pass up this opportunity, then we might not get another one. Things are already far worse than they were supposed to be.”

Bauteut didn’t answer, merely continuing to pull her down the hall and giving a small nod to the guard, before pulling her into the room and slamming the door shut. She then looked back to Joan. Of all the looks she expected to see on the girl’s face, anger, annoyance, distrust, the one she saw wasn’t one. Instead, the healer just looked sad. “Joan, you idiot,” she said softly.

“What?” Joan asked. “You said it yourself, if they believe I’m a traitor it doesn’t matter if I die. I have to take a risk if I want to stop everything from going bad.”

“You do matter,” Bauteut said before finally she just leaned back against the door, looking ready to collapse against it. “By the gods, are you always like this? You do realize there’s no way I will let you do that. You’re too important to run off and die like that.”

“I’m not a chosen, a hero or a member of the royal family,” Joan said quickly. “More importantly, I’ve been-- I’ve had visions of those woods. I can navigate through them.”

“What if you die? There are who knows what in there? More importantly, what happens when you die? What about your visions? Do you want the chosen to have to navigate all of this blind?” Bauteut asked.

“Of course not, but--”

“Then why do you have to get yourself killed just to, I don’t even know. I’d say prove a point but what would be the point here? That you’re suicidal? That you’re so desperate to prove to the world that you’re not worthless even though the only one who says you are is you?” Bauteut asked.

“No, of course not, I just--”

“Joan, are you going to try this, regardless of what I say?” Bauteut asked, cutting her off once more.

“Try what?” Joan asked.

“To sneak off and do something stupid. To get yourself killed. To try and solve everything by yourself even if you have to tear yourself apart to do it,” Bauteut asked before walking to her and reaching out, gripping her by the shoulders. “You are, aren’t you?”

“No, I won’t,” Joan said, though she honestly wasn’t sure. If it came down to it, if there was a chance for her to end this repeating cycle once and for all, wouldn’t she have to take the risk? Even if she died in the process, if everything was fixed in the end wouldn’t that be enough?

Bauteut nodded. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?” Joan asked. “That I won’t do something stupid? Fine. I promise I won’t. I--”

“Not that,” Bauteut said. “I know you wouldn’t keep it anyway. Promise me if you decide to do something dumb, you won’t go alone. Promise me you’ll tell me and let me come with you.”

“What?” Joan asked.

“Promise me that. I swear I won’t get you in trouble. But please promise me that you won’t do this alone and that you’ll let me help you. Please,” Bauteut said softly, staring intently into her eyes.

Joan nodded slowly, though to be honest it made her a little nervous. She couldn’t imagine why the girl would care so much. “Fine. I promise that if I decide to go, despite the risks, I’ll tell you so you can come. You know that having help means I’ll probably be more likely to do it anyway, right?”

Bauteut gave a small smile before nodding. “Yes. It’s the life of a healer, Joan. The most difficult part of doing such a thing is stopping the patient from getting themselves killed. The second most difficult part is ensuring I’m there to stop them when they nearly succeed.”

“Fine. I promise that if I decide to try and do this myself, in the event I decide it’s worth the risk, I will bring you with me. Will that make you happy?” Joan asked.

“Not as happy as you not doing it at all, but I imagine it’s the best I’ll get,” Bauteut said before crossing her arms. “You’re not just doing this because of earlier, are you?”

“Earlier? What happened earlier?” Joan asked.

Bauteut stared at her for a moment before giving a sigh and shaking her head. “The werewolves.”

“Of course not, I don’t-- oh! You mean the crying thing. No, I’m not,” Joan said, quickly averting her gaze.

“I see,” Bauteut said, the tone of her voice speaking volumes of how little she believed her.

Joan sighed and walked to her bed before collapsing on top of it with a light grunt. “I’m tired, do we have to get into this right now?”

Bauteut shook her head. “Fine. You haven’t had dinner yet, though. Don’t you want to eat before you sleep?”

“Not particularly,” Joan said before glancing down at her slightly torn dress. “Frankly, I just want to sleep and, if I don’t hang tomorrow, try and figure out what to do next.”

Bauteut went completely still, her eyes going wide with horror and a hand moving up to her mouth. “What? Hang? Joan, why would you even say something like that?”

Joan mentally cursed at herself. Of all the comments to make, that was probably the worst one. Even if the queen had hated her in her past life and tried to have her hung many times didn’t mean that the situation would happen here. To be honest, she didn’t think it would either way. Even if they thought she was a traitor, they had no proof and once Hardwin returned home she was certain everything could be figured out if it truly came to that. Alas, by then it would be too late. If the demons managed to remove the Changeling Patriarch by then they’d miss this chance. “It was a joke. I’m sorry, it was in poor taste, I didn’t mean to--”

To her surprise, Bauteut walked forward and reached out, gripping her by the shoulders. “Joan, I swear. You will not be hung or anything of the like. I would never stand for it.”

Joan nodded, though she kept her mouth shut on that thought. If the queen desired to have her executed she very much doubted Bauteut could do anything to stop it. “I know. It really was a sarcastic joke, I swear,” she said softly.

“One that was in absolutely terrible taste,” Bauteut said before pulling back and crossing her arms. “Please don’t ever say anything like that again, even as a joke.”

Joan nodded, before closing her eyes. “Fine, I won’t. I promise. But I really am kind of exhausted. Could I please have some privacy?”

“Very well,” Bauteut said before turning and then pausing for a moment. “Joan, you know there is a guard outside your room. If you were to try and do something reckless, then--”

“I would be pulled back in by my ear, I know,” Joan said with a soft sigh before motioning towards the door. “I’m reckless, not dumb. There wouldn’t even be any point to doing something like that right now. I told you that already,” Joan said before giving a small smile. “I’ll be a perfect little girl, I promise. No misbehaving at all. So please?”

Bauteut gave one last sigh before nodding, walking out from the room and closing the door behind her. Joan could hear her talking with the guard for a moment before her footsteps began to walk away.

Joan, meanwhile, stared up at the ceiling and tried to clear her head. She wondered if she was doing that far too often. At least she had gained some new information.

These teleportation attacks were new, sending in the werewolves like that were a clever trick. Since the condition couldn’t spread without power of the Changeling Patriarch, it wasn’t like their forces would be infected and then possibly be sent over. It was also an effective distraction.

Still, the fact they could send those monsters in, even through the castle’s defenses, was a whole new level of concerning. They had never been able to do that. She wondered how this new situation came to be. Was it something she had killed as the Hero? Or had the fact the Hero didn’t exist here result in a whole new ally that had never risen to power in her lives? Had this always been a capability of the demons, but they just never used it because they were too far to take the risk?

Joan rolled over onto her stomach and buried her head into her pillow. Things were changing, but she felt they were getting worse. “This isn’t what I wanted,” she whispered. “I only agreed to give my powers up if I could fix everything. What’s the point of letting me keep my memories if I don’t get them until after it’s too late to fix everything?”

She didn’t know what she expected, but she received no answer. Joan sighed and then made her way to her book once more, going through the process of unlocking it before stopping in front of the mirror.

Her dress was missing a few pieces of fabric, torn off by the initial assault and her run for her life. “I’m such an idiot,” Joan whispered to herself before walking to the bed and sitting on it, pulling the book open. She couldn’t believe she’d wasted her energy and thoughts on the silly notion of being pretty or a nice dress. The world was depending on her and she knew the stakes. She’d failed too many times to ever forget them.

Joan wondered if she just wasn’t supposed to be the Hero to begin with. What if this had all been a mistake and someone better than her had meant to be the Hero? She’d had to deal with constant attacks, always going from one country to the other. She knew she didn’t have time to waste when she should have been focusing on finding a way to stop all of this.

A few small tears stroked down her face, though she tried to ignore them. Before long more and more of them started to fall. She looked to the door, but it was closed and so nobody could see.

Joan finally just rolled over onto her side and shoved the book aside before hugging the blankets to her face and screaming into them. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to do it. She didn’t know how to fix any of this. She needed all of the chosen to fix everything but she didn’t even really know where they all were. If she could just get everyone to listen to her and understand that she knew what she was doing, she could get it all fixed. Instead they all jumped in her way and told her to let them handle it. Why couldn’t they see that she needed them to trust her so she could tell them what they needed to handle?

Joan hugged the blankets tighter, holding them to her face as tightly as she could just so she could suppress any more screams. She missed being the Hero. Everyone had listened to the Hero. Everyone had obeyed the Hero. Even if she’d been wrong then she could have forced it all through. Now she couldn’t even fight a werewolf without a powerful weapon and hope to survive. Now--

Joan’s wallowing was broken by a light knock on the door. She quickly glanced to the door before calling out in a slightly cracked voice. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Searle yelled through the door.

Joan gulped before wiping her face off on the blankets. “One minute,” she yelled. She got to her feet and quickly smoothed down the dress and then shoved the blankets to the foot of the bed. It was a mess as it was, but it wasn’t like she could do much about that. She then rushed to the mirror and tried to straighten herself out as best she could. The last thing she wanted was him of all people knowing how emotional she had gotten. She then walked back to the bed and sat down, waiting a few moments for her heart beat to calm down. “Come in.”

Once the door opened and Searle stepped inside, she felt herself tensing up. The look on his face wasn’t a good one. “Joan, we need to talk. It’s about--”

“They think I’m a traitor, don’t they?” Joan asked.

Searle cringed before, very slowly, giving a nod. “They do. I’m sorry. Well…”

Joan sighed and lifted a hand to her forehead and shook her head. “No, go ahead. Tell me. If they intend to kill me in my sleep, I’d rather know.”

“They won’t,” Searle said quickly, shaking his head rapidly. “I believe in you. But the king and prince think you’re not what you say you are.”

“I’m not,” Joan said flatly. “You know that, Hardwin knows that. They just don’t.”

“If you’d let me tell them--” Searle started, but she quickly cut him off.

“Searle, please. Not yet. The only reason I told you and Hardwin is that you two NEED to know. You know what I’m trying to do, what I’m trying to stop. The entire world is depending on us and if word gets out, things will only get worse,” Joan said quickly.

“Maybe if you hadn’t started yelling all those things,” Searle said, his tone turning a little annoyed as well. “You having had a vision won’t carry forever. There’s already a lot of people who think it’s just an excuse and that Lord Hardwin is off on some misguided adventure. That now that one chosen is gone, you’re trying to get rid of me as well.”

Joan let out a groan before falling back onto the bed. “Of course. Now the queen wants me imprisoned and hung, right?” she asked before lifting a hand to her throat.

“Actually, I think she’s the only one who’s still vouching for you,” Searle said.

Joan blinked a few times, her eyes locked on the ceiling. “She is?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” Searle said before walking to the bed and sitting down besides her. “I’ll be honest, I can’t blame them for their doubts. If I didn’t know you, if you hadn’t--”

“If I hadn’t known so much about you, then you would have doubted me as well?” Joan asked, cutting him off.

“Yes. I--”

“I was so blind,” Joan said, cutting him off again. “So arrogant and so blind. If I had just paid more attention, listened better, focused on what was important more, things would be better. I don’t know how to deal with any of this. I don’t even know what to make of it. It’s like the whole world has flipped upside down. The chosen who I believed in the least is now the only one who I can depend on. The woman who tried to kill me a dozen times is now my only supporter. The man who was like my big brother probably doesn’t really trust me most days and told everyone I’m his daughter,” she said before closing her eyes. “I know all these things, I know what’s coming. But it’s so different, it’s like a whole new world. What if I can’t fix it? What if it all starts again? All I really know are like… shortcuts. I know some things and how they’ll go, but I don’t know all of the background pieces that made them happen.”

“I know,” Searle said softly. “But that’s why you should try talking with the queen. She still supports you so--”

“If she knew I was the Hero, she wouldn’t,” Joan said firmly. “She hated the Hero. She still does. I talked to her once about it, I asked her. She just doesn’t. The fact she’s willing to trust me is only because she thinks I’m Hardwin’s daughter and those two were always close. Probably the only reason she even trusts me at all is because of him.”

“Is there anything you know about her that you could use to convince her?” Searle asked.

“Nothing,” Joan said before lifting her hands to cover her face. “Our interactions were always rather terse and short. Hardwin did all this stuff. I never even came here except when we had to celebrate. Even now I don’t even know if the coup will happen, since Hardwin’s mother is still alive and Lord Onrol is dead.”

“Wait, COUP?” Searle asked, staring at her with his mouth open. “What in the world are you talking about?”

Joan shrugged. “There was an attempted coup about--”

“And you never thought to mention this?” Searle asked, staring at her as if she lost her mind.

“If you’ll let me finish,” Joan said, holding a hand up. “After Hardwin’s mother died, which we later found out Onrol was behind, he had been manipulating a lot of things behind the scenes. He attempted a coup on the throne a few years from now. Tried to kill the king and queen in their sleep. Shortly after we defeated the Demon Lord. But things are different now, for one he’s dead. It was an utter failure, the only reason it got as far as it did was because they were manipulating Hardwin. There’s nobody to lead this now. Besides, there had been about five other coup attempts.”

Searle shook his head. “You know, attempting to overthrow the throne is a pretty important detail to focus on.”

“It never was for me,” Joan said with a small shrug. “I never cared about the royal family and--”

“So?” Searle asked. “If they succeed, what then?”

“They never came close to succeeding at any of them,” Joan said with a small sigh. “That’s just it. They--”

“But what if now they do?” Searle asked.

“Then we’re all going to die anyway so it’s a bit late to worry about that, isn’t it?” Joan asked, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. “I don’t know politics, okay? I just know they happened. Hardwin worried about that stuff, I focused on the fact our world was going to be destroyed. Destruction after destruction, monster after monster, the world burned, melted, was cast into the aether over and over! I didn’t care about the royal family or these politics because I was too busy having to care about the rest of the world being utterly destroyed and even then I kept failing! Yes, I know I should have paid more attention, but I didn’t. I was arrogant and cocky and I just… don’t know,” she said again, the tears welling up in her eyes. “I just don’t know, okay?” She quickly looked away from him. “I didn’t pay attention to that stuff because I thought it wasn’t important then. I don’t know if it’s important now. I know the big moments that ruined everything, but I don’t know about the small ones. I’m trying so hard to fix them, though. I swear I am. I’m trying to remember every little thing I can and I can’t remember all of it,” she whispered. “I’m going to damn this whole world again because I can’t even remember all of the important bits. I should have known the Changeling Patriarch would appear soon, but I didn’t. Because I couldn’t remember. I gave up everything for this chance and I’m still nothing more than a failure. So no, I didn’t care about politics or remember any of them. I don’t know who did what coup. Yes, I should have paid attention to this stuff, I really should have. But I don’t. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

Searle gave a soft sigh before, very gently, he reached out and pat her on the back. “I’m sorry, Joan. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I just thought it was important.”

“I know,” Joan whispered. “It probably is important. I’m probably going to end up ruining everything again because I was too stupid to remember everything that mattered. By the gods, what is the point of this? Why send me back to try again if I can’t fix it?”

“It’s okay, Joan. You’re not the one at fault here,” Searle said softly. “It’s our job to fix it, right? This shouldn’t be your responsibility. Nobody can ask you any more than you’ve already given.”

Joan gave a light laugh and shook her head. “I’ve been given everything, Searle,” she said before sitting up to look at him. “Do you know what it’s like? I was given every single edge. I was stronger, faster, more powerful than everyone else. I was given the world. I had all seven of you. All of you at once. I was given so many chances to succeed. There was nobody there who could stand against me.” She gave a soft, small whimper before leaning forward, resting her forehead on his chest. “I was given every chance to succeed and I failed over and over. I have a legacy of failure as the only thing that stands behind me. I damned the world over and over. Now? Now I don’t even know if I can fix it. If I had just been stronger. If I had just not given up. If I could have just found the one way to fix it as the Hero, none of this would have happened.”

“Joan,” Searle said softly. “You’re not the Hero anymore, remember? You don’t need to do this.”

“By the gods I’m so tired,” Joan whispered, the tears refusing to be held back anymore. “I feel like I’m falling apart every day and there’s no way to stop it. Like every step I take forward is one step in the wrong direction. I wish I didn’t have to do any of this. I wish I could accept that I’m not the Hero anymore. But I can’t, Searle. I may be weak and helpless now. But I can’t not be the Hero. If I do, everyone, everything loses. I have to do this. I need to do this.”

“You’re not weak or helpless, Joan. You found me, didn’t you? And Hardwin? We’ll all help you. And we’ll trust you. We’ll fix things.”

Joan nodded before looking up at him. She reached up and wiped her eyes, staring through blurry eyes. “Why do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Why? I’m this. I get upset and I cry and I--”

“Who wouldn’t?” Searle asked.

Joan paused, her eyes going wide. “I mean, anyone? I’m acting like a child.”

Searle gave a light chuckle. “You are a child. I’m a child, too, if older. So is Bauteut. But even if you were an adult, this is something I think anyone would cry over. You have everything depending on you and I don’t think I could take this pressure. Nobody could. That’s why you need to remember what you can and we’ll help you. I promise.”

Joan nodded before finally just going limp against him, letting him lightly hug her and pat her back. “I’m so exhausted. I just want to rest and recover and not worry about this. But we’re who knows how close until time runs out.”

Searle was silent for a long moment before nodding. “Do you think the fae would really be the answer?”

“I don’t know,” Joan said with a shrug. “Maybe? I know we’ll need them eventually. But maybe it is too big a risk. But if we can get the key, it’ll save so much time. But if we lost you, we’d all be dead anyway.”

“Could I defeat the Changeling Patriarch?” Searle asked.

“On your own? No. We couldn’t even get near him,” Joan said with a shake of her head. “His guards would overwhelm us. That’s why I think we need the fae. They bound him, they can control him. It could buy us more time to find all the chosen. They might even be able to help gather the chosen.”

Searle nodded and lightly pat her on the back. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll get there. Somehow,” Searle said with a smile.

Joan sighed and shook her head. “How? If they think I’m a traitor there’s no way they’ll let us leave. Not to mention we’d have to go behind enemy lines to do it. I can’t think of a--”

“I’ll figure it out,” Searle said with a smile.

“But—”

“The world is at stake, isn’t it?” Searle asked.

“Yes, but we don’t know if this will fix it,” Joan said softly.

“Do you think it is the correct decision?” Searle asked.

Joan paused for a moment and tried to think about it. Was it the correct decision? Would it be smarter for them to wait until all of the chosen were here? How much time did they have to begin with? If the demons were stopped as they were, then would it be better to wait until later and use this timing for something else? She measured it as best she could before nodding. “I think so. I really do. The demons are distracted right now, we could feasibly get in and out without them realizing we’re even there. With the fae to help us, we could put things in a better position and buy the time we need. It’ll still likely be months before Hardwin returns and we can move onto getting more of the chosen anyway. So, yes. I think this is the best plan.”

Searle gave a small nod. “Then I trust you. I’ll figure it out, okay? Just trust me.”

“Fine. I’ll trust you. If I can’t trust the chosen, who can I trust?” Joan said before leaning back. “Though, Bauteut made me promise to not do anything stupid without her. So if you trust her as well, I think she can come.”

“Do you trust her?” Searle asked.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Joan said with a sigh. “I never met her before as the Hero. I mean, I probably did, but I don’t remember her if I did. I didn’t exactly need much in the way of healing in most cases and if you’d known her you never mentioned her.”

“Not you, the Hero. You, Joan. Do you trust her?” Searle asked.

Joan paused for a moment and thought on that. Bauteut was certainly bossy and a little controlling. Obnoxious at times, as well. But the healer did seem to have her best interests at heart, in the most infuriating way. She vaguely remembered her time in the infirmary when she had just been Joan and ended up getting hurt during training. Bauteut had been there as well, helping her. “I think she’ll do what she thinks is best,” Joan finally said. “So long as I don’t anything too dumb, I don’t think she’ll try and get in our way.”

“So she’ll try to get in our way often?” Searle asked.

“Prob-- HEY!” Joan said before lightly punching him in the shoulder. She cringed when she did it, as it felt like punching slightly soft stone. At least she hadn’t put her magic into the blow so her hand wasn’t broken. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at the grin he was giving her.

There was still so much for her to learn, so much for her to understand about her new life as Joan, separate from the Hero. But, in many way, it was a good different.