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

Joan’s eyes slowly opened and she tried to move, but she was too weak. The room was dark, the windows either covered or the sun had gone down.

It took her a moment to realize that a figure was standing over her. She tried to speak out, but couldn’t. Then the figure leaned in and she felt panic filling her. Searle’s eyes glowed red in the darkness. His hands reached up and, very slowly, he wrapped his fingers around her throat. She tried to reach out and shove him away, but her body refused to listen to her. She couldn’t even scream. His cold, merciless laughter filled her ears once more. All she could do was lay there as, once again, he took her life.

------

Joan sat up, her eyes wide and sweat drenching her body. Why was it so cold? Why was it so--

“Joan? Are you--”

Searle’s voice cut through the air, causing panic to flood her once more. She held out her right hand and cast a quick spell, three small spikes of ice forming in the air before flying towards the voice. She heard the sound of the ice crumbling, moments before a light appeared. She felt so panicked she barely even noticed the wave of nausea washing over her from the spell.

Searle was sitting on the bed besides her’s, his right arm radiating a dim glow. He was rubbing his chest, which was now covered in a thin layer of frost. She couldn’t believe it. Was her magic now so weak that it couldn’t even hurt HIM anymore? She then caught sight of the other two spikes, or what remained of them. One had hit the wall and erupted into a layer of frost and the last one had hit the other bed, shattering over the blankets. The ice had been so weak that it had crumbled the moment it hit anything. How could she--

Her energy gave out and she fell back, collapsing into the bed, shivering and giving a whimper. Shame flooded her when she realized she couldn’t have hurt a baby with that attack. She wondered why she was so pathetic, so useless, so weak? What was wrong with her? She was nothing more than a complete and utter waste of time and heroic potential. Why did she ever even think she could do any of this? She pulled the blanket up tighter. Why was it so cold?

“Joan?” Searle’s voice came again. There was a light crackle before a new, yellow glow replaced the white one from his arm. She then heard him climbing out of his cot and began to make his way towards her.

“Don’t,” she whispered, unable to stop her voice from chattering. “Don’t k--” The words stopped in her throat. She reminded herself he wasn’t the demon lord, not yet at least. He wasn’t going to hurt her. He wouldn’t kill her. He was one of the chosen. He was her friend, her ally. He had been. Well, at least an ally. But no matter how hard she tried to tell herself this, all of her instincts screamed that he was going to kill her. All of the memories of her on her knees, choking on her own blood while he laughed at her, refused to be pushed aside.

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep. I should have been paying more attention. Can you move?” he asked. She heard him walking away, only to return a few moments later and place a warm, damp cloth on her forehead. “You’re soaked.”

“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head and then finally looking up at him. Her entire body went still when she saw him towering over her. He was going to kill her. She could barely move and he was going to kill her. She couldn’t even try to fight him off. Why was she so weak?

Searle had gone still as well, staring at her, confusion and guilt on his face. “Are you scared of me?” he asked.

“NO!” she screamed, turning back away and pulling the wet blanket tighter around herself. A part of her wondered why was it so cold in here. Was it an attempt to freeze her to death?

“Joan, please,” Searle said softly, his voice almost soothing. She wondered if that was the way he’d spoken to their friends right before he stabbed them in the back. “You’re drenched. The bedding is soaked. I need to know if you can move or not. We need to get you out of those clothes and dry, or you’ll only get sicker.”

“What?” she asked softly. “Why are you even here?”

“I told the healer tonight I’d keep an eye on you tonight so she could deal with her other work. Do you want me to go get her?”

“What?”

“She’ll need to help you change your clothes since you’re a, uhhh...”

Joan blinked a few times. She had never actually HEARD a blush before, yet she was certain she was hearing his. “I can dress...” she let the words trail off and tried to move her arms. Unfortunately, she could barely lift the covers. The idea of standing up and changing her clothing felt like such a massive undertaking it might as well have been a fairy tale. “I need the healer, please,” she whispered softly, wondering if it was possible to feel any more pathetic than she already did. She doubted it, but she was certain the gods would, somehow, find a way to test that.

“Okay. I’ll be right back. Try not to move too much.”

Joan nodded, listening when he walked away and opened the door. After a few more moments she heard the door closing and someone approaching. “I told you,” an oddly familiar voice said.

She slowly looked up and saw Bauteut walking towards her, carrying a small stack of towels. “You told me?” she asked, her teeth chattering.

“You were due for a nasty flu,” Bauteut said. The other girl reached out and pulled the blanket back, exposing her to the cold air and making her try to curl up. “Shhhh, it’s going to be okay. Trust me, it’s not as bad as it feels. Let’s get you out of those clothes and cleaned up, okay?”

Joan didn’t even put up a token resistance when the other woman slowly helped her up and out of the bed, guiding her to one of the others, before quickly stripping, cleaning, drying, redressing, and then finally putting her back under the covers. To her amazement, the new bed felt incredibly warm, almost as if there was a fire under it.

“There, that’s much better, isn’t it?” Bauteut asked, giving a soft smile. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” Joan said, still cold but it was slowly fading. “Am I dying?”

Bauteut shook her head, giving a light laugh before tossing the towels and soaked garments onto the floor in a pile. “Hardly, though you’ll likely feel like it for a few days.”

“What’s happening to me? W-what is this?” she asked, pulling the blankets tighter.

“Lots of different names for it. I prefer healer shock flu,” Bauteut said before moving to the other bed, pulling the bedding off and tossing it onto the pile.

“I can barely move,” Joan whispered.

“You don’t have a lot of experience with healing magic, do you?” Bauteut asked, glancing back to her. “No, you do. You’ve been up here enough times over the years that you should. Why do you think we always make you rest for a few days after healing a major injury?”

“So nothing breaks again?” Finally, the chattering stopped, the warmth getting through her body, though she couldn’t stop shivering.

“No, because you’re vulnerable. Healing magic doesn’t just take away the wound. It burns your body’s energy to do it, accelerating the recovery process. You likely won’t not. Broken bones and the like can be healed in hours or sometimes minutes doing that, instead of months. But there’s a cost for it,” Bauteut said with a shake of her head. “To be honest, I think you’re rather fortunate. Judging by the healing that’s been done on you, I’m amazed you can even move. Her highness truly is talented.”

“How long until it goes away?” Joan asked.

“A day or two until you’ll be able to climb out of bed. A week before you want to risk anything more than a light jog. Before you get any more silly ideas like adding even more bruises to your collection, know that the instructors here are well aware of who is and isn’t cleared for practice. Even if you are an ex-student, they won’t practice with you.”

Joan gave a soft sigh, before nodding. “How long until I can ride again?”

“A week, likely. You’ll need to speak with the head healer to get an exact time frame, though. Joan?” Bauteut said, glancing back towards her.

“Yes?” Joan asked.

“You’ve only just graduated from here. Please try to not get yourself killed so quickly. You’ll make the academy look bad if you burn yourself up. Just try to get some relaxation and recover, okay?”

Joan tried to resist rolling her eyes. She wished they could just understand that she didn’t have the option. “I wi--”

“I know that look,” Bauteut said, her tone turning harsh. “Joan, listen. You’re going to end up like this again, if you’re lucky. If you’re not, this kind of thing will kill you.”

Joan gave a small nod. The other girl couldn’t understand, though. She’d already died more times than she could count. Over and over and over. If she didn’t fix everything then nobody could. Her eyes focused on Bauteut for a moment, watching the other girl change the bedding on the cot. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.”

The girl paused for a moment before getting up and walking over to the bed. She then knelt down and looked into Joan’s eyes, giving a soft smile. “Joan, it’s okay. You’re not any trouble and nobody is going to be mad at you if you don’t take care of everything yourself. As much as you might hate to admit it, you’re still a little kid. Let some of the grown ups take care of things.”

Joan stared at her for a moment and only barely managed to avoid laughing. Let the adults take care of things seemed like such a humorous idea to her. In her past lives she was still a child when she first became the hero. In this life she had never even had parents and the adults around her had only the barest ability to help her in anything. “You’re not much older than I am, you know.”

“I’m quite a bit older than you, thank you very much. I’m also healer. We always grow up faster.”

“Hmph. I bet if I was a boy, you’d say it was because you were a girl.”

“If you were a boy and a healer, yes. If you were a girl and a healer, I would say it’s because, unlike you, I don’t run around and fight trolls for fun.”

Joan gave a snort, unable to keep the smile off her face. “It’s not very fun.”

“Ah, progress. The littlest mercenary can learn,” Bauteut said in a soft, teasing tone. “Now learn to take better care of yourself. Otherwise the healers in your life will soon find ways to make you do it. And trust me, if we tan your hide, we know how to fix it afterwards.”

Joan laughed for a moment, though the laughter died when she saw the serious, grim expression on the other girl’s face. “You’re… you’re joking, right?”

“It takes a very talented healer to heal stupid, but with persistence, it can be done,” Bauteut said before getting to her feet and walking to the bundle of laundry. “Searle is one of the helpers in the infirmary, so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask him. He doesn’t know much magic to heal, but to be honest, I don’t think we’d use any healing magic on you until this passes unless it’s an emergency. If it’s anything serious, have him get me.”

Joan nodded, closing her eyes and listening to the other girl leave. After a few moments she heard the door open.

“You know, you could have come in and helped,” Bauteut said curtly.

“What? I’m a boy! I can’t be in there when you’re--” Searle said from by the door.

“After she was changed, I mean,” Bauteut said.

“You never said she was,” Searle said, in a soft, meek tone.

“Oh,” Bauteut said, the scolding tone shifting to a more casual one. “Right, well, she’s all yours. Let me know if her condition worsens any.”

“Of course,” Searle said before she heard the door close and his footsteps coming closer. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Joan asked. “I’m the one making a mess everywhere.”

“I was supposed to be keeping an eye on you and I fell asleep. I even let the candle go out,” he said softly.

Joan glanced to small glowing orb of light illuminating the room. She preferred it over a candle anyway. “I prefer light spells over candles. Besides, I imagine it has been quite the amazing day for you. Finding out you’re one of the chosen and all. It’s probably not safe to have a fire in here when we’re both asleep anyway.”

He gave a soft sigh and she heard him sit on the bed besides hers. Her cheeks turned a little red when she realized WHY this bed had been warm when she’d moved into it, it was the one he’d been sleeping in. She supposed it was better than freezing, at least. But finding comfort in the warmth of her murderer was an unsettling thought. She shook her head and stared at the ceiling, trying to shove those thoughts away. He was a hero, one of her friends. Even if he was the one she cared for the least, he was still important and necessary.

“She’s really bossy for a student,” Joan finally said to break the silence.

“She may not look it, but she’s practically a graduate now. It sometimes takes healers a while to decide where they want to go, there’s a pretty large demand,” Searle said.

Joan found she didn’t have a response to that. It hadn’t been hard for her to decide to join the Crystal Phoenixes, everyone had wanted to join them. But she supposed the role of a healer was something else entirely.

“I’ll be honest, I never would have imagined it,” Searle finally said, cutting off her thoughts.

It took her a few moments to realize what he meant and to come up with a response, her mind floundering through the grogginess of the illness. “I can understand that. Being one of the chosen is a pretty big deal.”

“Not that. I meant I never would have imagined you of all people would have thought I was it,” Searle said after a few more moments of silence.

“What? Why?” Joan asked.

“I always thought you hated me,” Searle said, his tone soft and timid.

“What? No. I never hated you!” she said, cringing when even she could hear the lie in her tone.

“I never would have guessed,” he said, his own tone gentle and filled with regret. “Every time we ever talked, you always seemed desperate to get away. I never understood how I offended you to make you feel that way.”

She pulled the blankets tighter and thought back to the few times they had interacted in the academy. They’d been chosen as sparring partners a few times, which had resulted in her obvious victory. But now that she thought about it, she had always been a bit harsh on him. From the moment she’d met him she’d always been scared of him. She’d always suspected he was up to something or would do something to hurt her if she was alone with him. In the entire academy, he had always been the one person she’d been afraid of. She hadn’t realized why until her memories had finally returned.

It wasn’t her fault, though. If he hadn’t been so weak, hadn’t fallen under the sway of the demon lord again and again, she never would have had any reason to fear him. Even now the demon lord was probably out there, plotting his next move. Getting ready to kill them all. She wondered if Searle would be another weak link. Would he be the reason they all failed? She found him second this time, maybe she could toughen him up and stop him from getting all of them killed.

“Is what Lord Hardwin said true?” Searle asked.

“Which thing? I need a bit more information than that to go on,” Joan said far harsher than she’d intended. She cringed when she saw him recoil. She wasn’t in the best of moods anyway, especially when she felt so weak and sick. But even she knew it wasn’t fair to lash out at him like that, especially over something so small. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired.”

“No, I should have been clearer. Are you a seer?” Searle asked.

Joan stared at him for a long moment before speaking up. “A seer?”

“His lordship said that you got visions of the future, that’s how you knew who I was. That’s how you know who the others are.”

Joan felt a small flash of relief. So Hardwin had decided to go along with that for now. “So he told you?”

Searle gave a sheepish nod, his cheeks turning a little red. “He said it was a secret. But it makes sense to me. You’ve always been incredible. If I can be honest, I’m surprised you’re not one of the chosen.”

“I’m not, we tested,” Joan said quickly, cringing at the edge in her tone. She mentally reminded herself that there was no way he could possibly know what she had given up and getting mad at him didn’t help anything. If she couldn’t control herself she’d only end up driving him away now that she needed his help.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. You’ve always been one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known. They say you have the potential to be one of the greatest mages the world has ever seen, on top of that your swordsmanship was better in your first week here than I could manage in the years I’ve been around. Even though you’re so sick you managed to use a high level ice spell without using an incantation.”

Joan sighed and shook her head. “That wasn’t a high level ice spell. You could do far better than that if you had the training.”

“It’s a lot higher than anything I can do and I’ve been here far longer than you were. You even did it without an incantation. On top of that, you’re the daughter of one of the chosen and a seer. I don’t see how someone like me could be the chosen and you’re not.”

Joan gave another soft sigh. She was too tired to have this talk with him. Already she was beginning to feel the strain of having to keep her eyes open. Had he always been this way? She wasn’t special. She wasn’t even talented or strong anymore. She had more years of experience than he likely ever would and she knew by the end of their journey he’d make even her greatest achievements in her current life look pathetic. On top of that, he was the least of the chosen. Just that thought made her feel a fresh wave of misery wash over her. How could she possibly save the world when she was more pathetic than him? None of her feats were really impressive in the slightest once they were seen as they truly were.

“By the time this is over, you’ll see how weak I really am,” she finally said with a sigh. “Just stop. Please.”

“Oh. Right, you’re tired, aren’t you? I’m sorry. If you need anything at all, please, let me know,” he said softly.

“Just put out the...” She trailed off and gave a light shudder at the thought of the light going out. Alone in a dark room with him. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the fear of him crawling over and choking the life out of her from entering her mind. “Leave the light here, please.”

“Of course,” he said softly, his voice getting low. She heard his cot shift when he laid down.

She gave another soft sigh. There was no way she could possibly sleep, knowing how close he was. No matter how tired she felt, there was no way she could leave herself so vulnerable around him.

Those were the last thoughts she had before her consciousness faded and she drifted off once more, exhaustion winning out despite her expectations.