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

“Joan? Are you listening?” Queen Emeline asked.

Joan didn’t answer, too shocked to respond. She had woken this morning and then had a rather peaceful and relaxing breakfast with the queen. That had been a rather jarring experience, the only meal she’d ever shared with the queen before had been during celebrations of victories and it usually involved the queen glaring at her, with both Hardwin and the king struggling to keep things from escalating into dangerous territory. She had to give them some credit though, they were usually successful.

But this morning Emeline had been quite kind and friendly, asking her questions about how she slept and if she felt weak or pain. In fact, the queen seemed borderline worried about her. Without the king or Hardwin in sight to keep the peace it just felt so strange and a few times she’d had to pinch herself to be sure it wasn’t another dream. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t find the trap. She’d finally, grudgingly, given in to the prodding and asked a bit more about her ‘father’ and the relic he carried. She’d hoped that with a bit of careful maneuvering she could get the queen to give her more information about where they had been stored.

Joan had nearly choked on her food when the queen offered to let her see the others. More importantly, she was told they were left out where literally anyone could see them, even touch them, with only a pair of guards around them at all times. She couldn’t take her eyes off the six divine objects. Spear, gauntlets and boots, crown, bow, shield and warhammer. The most powerful objects in the world and they were just left out, barely protected. It made her want to scream at how foolish it was. Every part of her being saying they should be locked away lest someone try to take them.

Then again, she knew why the queen felt it was safe. No one but one of the chosen could even move them. But even then they were far too valuable to risk being damaged or touched. What if the Demon Lord found out? There was no telling what he could do to them when they were unwielded. Still, a small part of her wanted to reach out and touch one, to see if they’d react to her. Even if she was no longer the hero, there was always that small chance they would know who she truly was. Still, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t come up with any proper excuse that wouldn’t anger the queen if she tried.

“Would you like to touch one?” Emeline asked, cutting her thoughts off. “You may if you wish.”

Joan turned to stare at the queen. She wondered if the queen could read her mind for a moment, but quickly shoved that thought away. She was certain if the ruler could then she would have already been executed by her. “What? Me? But I--”

“Fret not,” Emeline said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That’s why they are displayed here to begin with. Anyone can come and be judged, if they believe they are a chosen. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were to be one and, according to Hardwin, you’ve already performed quite a few legendary feats as it is.” Joan wasn’t sure, but she swore one of the guards made a dismissive snort at that.

Not that she could blame him. While she’d been considered incredibly talented and skilled, nothing she had done could be termed legendary. The most legendary thing she had managed was lightly cutting the Troll of Reflections and even that had nearly gotten her killed. Or perhaps Hardwin had meant her nearly blowing her arm off using a spell that should have been easy for her. Still, she had to know if any part of who she was remained. She walked forward and reached out, wrapping her fingers around the shaft of the warhammer.

Joan felt the tingle of magic within them, divine power and might. A weapon that could never be broken or damaged. A weapon that could even slay a god. It would have been incredible and life altering just to touch, if not for the fact she was used to it by now. She’d borrowed all of the weapons in one life or another, taken them up when the time was needed. So it felt almost familiar when she tried to move the hammer, but it might as well have weighed as much as a mountain for all it moved. She suspected it wouldn’t, but she couldn’t help feeling as if she was being rejected by a close friend.

Joan shook her head and pulled her hand back. “No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry.” Still, touching the hammer made her think of its wielder. She wondered how Thalgren would have felt to know that the hammer that would one day be his was resting inside a small workshop in the courtyard of a castle, to be poked and prodded by anyone. He’d probably have jokingly demanded that there at least be a charge for the pleasure. Or perhaps it wouldn’t have been a joke at all, dwarven humor was often hard to properly understand. Just the thought brought an aching smile to her lips and moisture to her eyes. By the gods she missed them.

“Don’t be sad, child,” Emeline said with a shake of her head. “There can only be six others, there’s no shame in not being one of them. Only the gods can know who they will be, after all.”

Joan tried not to laugh at that and suppressed the urge to tell the queen she had a few ideas who they were. For now, only Hardwin could know. She couldn’t wait for his return so they could finally start the search. However, despite the other six weapons there was one missing. “I suppose. What about the eighth?” she asked.

“Eighth?” Emeline asked.

“The Star of the Hero?”

“Oh. That.”

Joan couldn’t be certain, but she swore she felt the room almost get colder. The queen’s smile dimmed considerably. “Is there something wrong?” she asked. “Has it not been recovered?” A fresh rush of panic filled her. What if something had happened to the Star? If there wasn’t any hero to wield it, could it still exist?

The queen gave a soft sigh before shaking her head. “No. The star can only be wielded by the, ahem, hero, after all. We have no idea where it is.”

Joan was certain of it now. There was definite distaste, even annoyance, from the queen. “Has he not appeared?”

“No and we are all fortunate for it,” she said before turning and walking back the way they had come.

Joan stood there, stunned. She’d heard tales of the chosen and hero, even in this life. She had NEVER heard such disdain spoken towards the hero before, aside from her past lives. She had believed that Batwatch Valley had been the source of the woman’s ire, but was there more? She raced after the woman, her heart pounding. “You hate the hero? But he doesn’t even exi-- hasn’t appeared yet. Has he?”

Emeline gave a soft sigh before shaking her head. The courtyard was almost silent, with only a few groundskeepers maintaining the tall, thin bushes that lined the stone pathways that wove their way between the castle and the courtyard’s many smaller buildings. “I do not hate the hero. I distrust the hero.” Despite her words, the tone she used made Joan suspect there was far more than just distrust in the ruler’s feelings. That tone was far too familiar. A part of her wanted, desperately, to retreat from the conversation before it went badly. But she couldn’t. Not when she was so close to finally getting answers.

“Distrust? But he’s the hero. Shouldn’t everyone trust him?” Joan asked, struggling to keep her voice calm.

The queen glanced back at her. “How familiar are you with the stories of the chosen?”

“Only vaguely,” Joan said softly, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice. Despite having lived them, she realized she had spent an incredibly short amount of time learning about them. Even if she could read, she had been a hero of action, honing her powers or charging forward in an attempt to crush whatever new threat kept her busy. She’d always been so busy, going from one end of the kingdoms to the other. If there was research to be done then they had other people for that, her duty had been to be mighty enough to face the threats that were unveiled.

Unfortunately, now she was paying for that mindset. She promised herself she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Well then. Would you allow me to give you a bit of a refresh?” Emeline asked.

Joan gave a small nod. She couldn’t help but notice that the queen had slowed her pace slightly. She flushed when she realized it was to help her keep up, as her legs were shorter than the ruler’s.

“The seven heroes, those chosen by the gods, will appear in a time when the world needs them most. To deal with the threats and dangers that mortals such as ourselves cannot hope to oppose. The times they have appeared have always been times of great chaos and danger, but they have never failed to save our world. Now, in many of the stories they are led by an eighth, the hero. That is the story you’ve heard, I take it?” Emeline asked.

“Yes. More or less. And that the hero, the eighth, will be greater than all of them?” Joan asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. She was so close to answers, she could almost taste it.

Emeline gave a soft sigh and looked her over. “Or so they say. Joan, you are still a child. I do not wish to take the comfort of the hero from you.”

Joan clenched her fists slightly. While the queen was certainly polite, even gentle with her, it still made her feel a small bit of ire at being dismissed as a child. “I can handle it.”

“I am not afraid of you not being able to handle it. Perhaps I am just over zealous in my worries. Please, do not allow it to taint your belief. After all, the hero is the one that all can turn to in their time of need, no?” Emeline asked. Though there was a bitter coldness to those words that didn’t match them at all.

“You don’t believe those words, do you?” Joan asked, grasping at whatever she could to keep the conversation going.

Emeline shook her head. “No, I do not. Please, do not worry about such things. You’re still too young to care about such matters. If the hero appears, it will be my responsibility to take care of him.”

Joan tried not to let despair fill her as, once more, answers slipped between her fingers. She still had one more gambit, though. “If the hero doesn’t appear, who would lead the chosen?”

The forced smile faded, replaced by one soft and genuine. “Fortunately there have been many accounts of the chosen saving the realm even without the hero. I pray that this is one of those times.”

“Wait, there are?” Joan asked, unable to keep the shock out of her voice. “But I thought they always came together?” Her heart started pounding harder. The hero ALWAYS came with them, that was what she had heard in her past lives. If the hero hadn’t, did that mean she’d failed before, in past lives? Even before this attempt? Had there been other ‘Joan’s? Was this all just an eternal cycle of failures and attempts? She struggled to think back to what the Three Sisters had told her, but those memories twisted with all the others. She swore they said this was a one time option. But what if it wasn’t? Or what if it all meant something else? Even the Demon Lord had called her his ‘Eternal Rival’. If the hero didn’t always appear, why hadn’t anyone mentioned it to her? She mentally kicked herself. What if someone HAD told her and she just hadn’t cared?

“Joan?” Emeline asked, reaching out and placing a hand against her forehead. “You’ve gone pale. Are you feeling ill?”

“A little,” she said. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Nonsense,” Emeline said, cutting her off. “You’re still recovering. If you feel faint, you should rest. A lot of damage was healed and even if you don’t feel it now, if you push yourself too hard it will hit you all at once. Come along, we’ll return to your room.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Joan said, averting her eyes.

“I’ve told you, please call me Emeline.”

“Sorry.” Joan slowly followed the queen back into the castle, unable to keep her mind from racing in all directions. Had Emeline been telling the truth? Why hadn’t she spent just a little more time learning who and what the hero was? “Err, your highness?”

“Emeline.”

“Right. Emeline, I don’t suppose you have any records of these past chosen? I’d love to learn more about them.”

“You can read?”

“Yes. I learned it in the academy,” Joan said quickly. To be honest, while she had ‘learned’ it in the academy, it had come to her as easily as almost everything else. Within a few days of having her first lesson she was already able to read entire books. Not that there had been many options.

It had amazed her then, but now she couldn’t help but be annoyed at how obvious it was. She hadn’t learned anything, she’d only remembered things she’d been doing for millennia.

“Interesting, I’ve heard most mercenaries ignore such lessons unless they intend to become record keepers. You truly are a unique child, Joan. I’ll have some brought to your room, but don’t push yourself too hard. You still require plenty of rest”

“Thank you,” Joan said before going silent. She had another question she wanted to ask, one she felt she should have asked so long ago. “Your high-- Emeline, may I ask another question?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you know such powerful healing magic?”

That made the ruler stumble. Emeline glanced down at Joan, the shock evident on her face. “You don’t know? You’re a citizen of Starsrest, are you not?”

Joan shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t, but I was born into the human empire. It just wasn’t something that was ever discussed with me.”

Emeline gave a soft sigh, the surprise melting away to mild amusement. “No. I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you? You’re too young to remember when I became queen. It was before you were born by at least a decade. Perhaps even longer. The politics of the empire didn’t interest you?”

Joan said sheepishly. “Honestly, perhaps if I was some things would be so much easier now.”

“I see. Well, I suppose you’ll need to know more about these, especially if you’re to be Hardwin’s daughter. Chosen or not, he is of a noble house. There will likely be high expectations of you in the future.”

Joan barely suppressed a mocking snort. She doubted the expectations could be any higher than they already were. “I will do what I can.”

“Very well, I suppose I can spare a few more moments to explain then. How familiar are you with the history of our country?”

“Probably a lot less than I should be. I know over the last few millenia, more and more lands have fallen to the demons. All the remain, now, are the dwarf kingdom, elven dominion and the human empire. There are other species, such as changelings, fae and goblins that have been absorbed into one kingdom or another, but most are quickly going extinct. That covers the basics, correct?”

“Truly? Interesting. You were taught the state of the world but not any of the politics of your home?” Emeline asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

Joan turned scarlet, mentally scolding herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. Though she didn’t feel she was saying it to the queen so much as she was the world. She SHOULD have known about this. Someone had likely told her. But she had probably pushed them aside and focused only what she considered ‘the important parts’, namely the three kingdoms. In fact, if not for one of the chosen being a changeling she likely wouldn’t have known or cared about the extinction of the other races.

“It’s fine, Joan. Despite being often called the human empire, we haven’t been a true empire in centuries. Now the entirety of our lands are three cities and the held territories of a dozen or so noble houses. As such, the suitor of the monarch of Starsrest must be someone who has proven by power, wisdom and authority that they can rule these lands. That they can protect the people from the demons on our borders. I, much like you, was a member of a mercenary company. A healer for the Sun Wolves, before they disbanded.”

That made Joan stumble and narrowly avoid falling down the stairs entirely, merely banging a knee on the steps. “You’re a mercenary? You? Like me?”

“Was, dear. It was the best way for me to survive and put food on my plate. Though, I’ll admit I was quite a bit more fortunate than yourself in that regard. I knew both my parents and while our household was meager, it was still ours.”

Joan felt her cheeks almost glowing red, unmoving from the steps. “I’m sorry.”

Emeline waited patiently for her, sharing a gentle smile. “For what? If anyone should apologize, it is I. To imagine my friend had a child all this time and I ignored it. I cannot imagine what that life must have been like for you. But you won’t be alone any longer, Joan. Is your knee okay?”

“I’m fine, I just scraped my knees a bit. Wait, please don’t--”

Before she could stop her, however, the queen had knelt down and put a hand against her leg, healing away the small bit of pain. “Please, do try and be more careful. There are limits to how much you should be healed.”

“Thank you,” Joan whispered softly. How could she so easily kneel and slow down for Joan the orphan, but for the hero she’d held nothing but hate and anger? It didn’t make any sense. Was it because she had been a noble on top of it?

No. The queen obviously felt bitterness towards the hero now. There had to be something else. More questions that she had to poke at and try to figure out before she caused the world to be destroyed. Again. She just hoped going through the legends of past heroes would help set her on the right track.