Book 7 Chapter 7

Joan let out a low squeak when she felt the measuring tape wrap around her chest and then pulled away. “Mmm hm,” the woman taking her measurements said. “Hold out your arm.”

Joan nodded and held out her arm, doing as she was told. She never enjoyed this part of getting new clothing. Having things that fit properly was nice, especially now that most of her clothing just felt too tight or didn’t fit at all. But the measuring process always felt so oddly impersonal and almost insulting. She felt like a piece of meat, measured and weighed. Worse than that, the woman doing it had cold hands. Every time her hand grabbed a limb and readjusted it she had to suppress the urge to shriek. Standing around in her undergarments and being measured was not her idea of a fun time.

Then again, she enjoyed it more than she had as the Hero. At least she was getting clothing she wanted to wear. As the Hero he’d always had to wear what he felt would make him look the most noble and heroic, would give people the confidence to know they were safe and the world was in capable hands.

Joan would be getting outfits that were uncomfortable and looked fancy and miserable, but she’d also get ones she could run around in and fight in. Even the fancy, over the top dresses didn’t sound nearly as bad as some of those old annoying suits. In fact, she was actually looking forward to some of them, even if she wouldn’t have to wear them all the time.

“You’re quite the lucky girl,” the woman said.

“I am?” Joan asked. “Yeah, I feel like it.”

“We don’t normally take orders like this from individuals,” the woman said.

“But the Chosen are always the exception, aren’t they?” Joan asked.

“Indeed,” the woman said, though she didn’t sound annoyed. If anything, she sounded amused. “You’re going to get quite a few unique things by the end, I imagine.”

“Unique how?” Joan asked, her stomach tightening into a knot. She swore if they tried to stuff her into some fancy suit she might burn it to pieces.

“Oh, just unique,” she said. “After all, it’s a good chance for some of us who are more inclined to create things that aren’t as functional as we normally have to. I’m sure you’ve seen our work before.”

Joan gave a small nod, but didn’t clarify. She was fairly certain that the sword she’d had before had come from Hearth’s Calling, but she didn’t want to mention that her primary experience with their equipment was the blade shattering and her nearly dying. It felt a little rude. “I mean, a lot of people’s lives depend on these tools,” Joan said as diplomatically as she could. “Functional is very important, right?”

“Mmm hm,” the woman said. “But sometimes a person just wants to let go and make something wild. At least you’re not going to be in any actual danger, so it won’t be so bad.”

Joan blinked a few times and glanced away from the woman. “Yeah. Of course. Only the Chosen would have to be in danger, right?” Oh, she knew better than to comment on that one, but made a mental note to have everything she got tested just in case. The last thing she wanted was her trousers to split open when she bent over to avoid a sword coming at her head, or who knew what else.

“Exactly,” the woman said. “You’re so fortunate. Being a daughter of one of the Chosen, all you have to do is sit there and smile while they save the world.”

Joan bit her tongue but kept her mouth shut. No reason to let the girl know just how wrong she was, what would even be the point? “Well, so long as the armor we get is functional, of course,” Joan said. “After all, I should be able to protect myself well enough the Chosen don’t get distracted from their duties trying to keep me safe, right?”

“True enough,” the woman said. “I do hope you’re not making things too hard for them. Your father is very important, you know.”

“Oh, trust me,” Joan said. “I know.”

“Are you around them often?” the woman asked.

“Huh?”

“The Chosen,” she asked. “Do you get to see them a lot? It must be amazing, seeing--”

“JOAN! Get out of my way or I’ll BURN this BUILDING to the ground! JOAN! WHERE ARE YOU?” Korgron’s yell made both of them jump and the woman’s face went deathly pale.

“Speaking of the Chosen,” Joan said softly. “That’d be one right now. I should, err, go talk with her. Do you need any more more measurements?”

“No, I think we’re done here,” the woman said quickly.

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Joan nodded before she quickly ran to grab her clothes. She was just thankful she didn’t have to endure any talk about what it was like being the child of a Chosen. “I’ll be there in one moment!”

A moment later the door swung open and Korgron stood in it. “Joan!”

“Do you mind?” Joan asked. “I was getting my measurements and--” She stopped in midsentence when she turned around and couldn’t help herself. She burst into laughter.

Korgron stood in the doorway, looking furious. She was soaked from head to toe with seaweed dangling from her crown. “We need to talk.”

“You look like a drowned mouse,” Joan said in a teasing tone.

“You’re well on your way to becoming one,” Korgron said furiously.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joan said with a roll of her eyes before throwing her tunic over her head. “Just give me a moment, okay?”

Korgron crossed her arms and just glared. Sheesh. Joan wondered what had her so upset, she hadn’t seen the woman give death glares like that in a while. She quickly made her way after her, giving a small wave to the tailor on her way out.

“Soooo, what’s wrong?” Joan asked.

Korgron just kept walking, leading her out of the building. “Do you see that?”

Joan looked towards the way Korgron was pointing, but all she saw was the sea and a few fishing boats out there. As well as Vivian coming out behind them, a look of alarm on her face. “I see water. I’m guessing that’s not it?”

“What?” Korgron asked before turning to glare at her.

Joan rolled her eyes and squinted, but the most she could see off on the horizon was a large dark speck. “I’m not a Chosen, remember? I don’t have amazing eyesight like you do. Human, remember?”

Korgron gave a low, guttural growl. “Do you not see that large towering ISLAND in the distance?”

“What?” Joan asked. “There’s no island. It’s just-- oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” Korgron said before glaring down at her. “Care to explain?”

Joan gave a small, sheepish grin. “I, uhhh, forgot?” she said nervously.

“You forgot,” Korgron said. “How do you forget about a turtle the size of a mountain?”

“Err, Lady Korgron,” Vivian said in a soft, soothing tone. “You’re making a scene…”

“I was eaten by that floating island out there!” Korgron yelled. “I’m going to make more than a scene!”

“Oh no! You didn’t hurt it, did you?” Joan asked. Judging by the glare that Korgron turned her way, hurting the giant guardian of the merfolk wasn’t really her concern. She gave a sheepish smile. “I, uhhh, I’m sorry. It wasn’t really a big deal for us. We were always invited, so uhhhh…”

“How do we deal with it?” Korgron asked. “Other than the obvious?” Fire formed in the palm of her hand.

“Oh, please don’t do that,” Joan said. “It’s really nice once you get used to it. That and if you anger it then it might end up wiping out this whole coastal city before you finish it off.”

“I am aware,” Korgron said before clenching her hand into a fist, the flame going out. “Searle said the same thing.”

“Could you try coming back later?” Joan asked. “I’m sure--”

“We’re kind of committed to this one now,” Korgron said, her voice brimming with barely controlled rage. “So do you know or not?”

Joan gave a soft sigh. They’d always had a guide, how had they dealt with it? She frowned and closed her eyes, thinking back to the massive thing. As the Hero she’d only seen it a handful of times, though it had always been mentioned. How had they gotten around it before?

“Oh, right!” Joan said, perking up. “Uhhhhh…” She stood up on her tippy toes and reached up, gripping a bit of seaweed from the demon’s shoulder and holding it up. Ew. It was slimy. “This.”

“Seaweed,” Korgron said.

“Its favorite snack,” Joan said sheepishly. “You’d need a lot of it, though. But if you gather it, it should prove a good enough distraction to sneak by.”

“You’re kidding,” Korgron said.

“I’m afraid not,” Joan said. “Errr… sorry.”

Korgron gave a soft, annoyed sigh before reaching a hand up to her forehead and shaking her head. “Fine. It’s fine. Anything else you need to remind us about?”

“Uhhhh… I told you about the kraken, right?” Joan asked.

“It was in the notes,” Korgron said.

“Then I don’t think so,” Joan said sheepishly before glancing around. They were getting quite a few confused looks, but hopefully nobody would suspect too much. Or at least would be too scared to question. “I really am sorry. You know I--”

“I know, I know,” Korgron said dismissively. “It’s fine. You’re fine. Just try to remember things better, okay?” She, once again, started walking towards the shore. “I’m never going to get that smell out of my hair, am I?”

Joan gave a sigh and watched her leave before giving a small, sheepish grin to Vivian. “We should try and get some nice smelling lotions and soaps. For the Chosen.”

Vivian gave a small nod. “Never a dull moment, is there?”

“Not if we can help it,” Joan said before glancing back towards the sea. Oh, she did hope the Chosen would be okay. If not for their sake, then for hers. Because she really didn’t want to tell Korgron that essence of turtle’s mouth was not the best scent for her. She valued her life a little more than that.