Book 2 Chapter 13: A new opportunity

Joan quickly tried to right herself, clasping her sword in both hands and staring down at the dark figure that impeded their way. She couldn’t believe she’d let her guard down so easily, she’d almost been killed.

“Warn the camp,” the figure said and she saw another figure race past them, towards the camp.

“Searle, stop them,” Joan said.

“But—” Searle tried to object.

“Go, if they alert the camp we’re dead,” Joan said firmly before charging at the shadowy figure. She saw the glint of metal and the blade came at her left this time. She swung her own sword into it with all the force she could muster, but all she could do was deflect it. She tried to enhance her movements with her magic, but she didn’t have enough magic to cast the spell. Worse, she could only barely see the figure in the darkness. The blade seemed to almost be illuminated in the moonlight at least. Unfortunately, she suspected it was a polearm of sorts judging by how far it was from the demon’s body.

She heard Searle running behind her and she focused on the target in front of them. She wished she could have asked Searle to light up the area, but she didn’t want to risk drawing more attention than was necessary.

A moment later it was as if everything in the night was visible to her. For a moment she was terrified that a light had gone off, but then realized that it wasn’t light. She could just make out everything in strange shades of black and gray. “What?” she asked.

“I’m here, Joan,” Bauteut said.

Joan nodded, readying herself for the figure’s next strike. She didn’t know where the healer had learned a spell like that, but she couldn’t help but be grateful for it. Though she was a little annoyed that she didn’t know it herself. But of course she didn’t, the hero hadn’t really had much trouble seeing in the dark.

She could now see the figure though. A man, wearing thin hide armor. In his hands he held a glaive, the blade curved into a wicked point at the end. Definitely a demon, his hands ending sharp claws and horns protruding from his forehead. Still, he didn’t have any thick scales or the like over his body so she suspected the armor he wore was all the protection he had. More importantly, now that she could see she could fully admire the sword she’d been gifted by Ywain. The blade looked as sharp as ever, despite the blows she had parried. In fact, she could see a couple of chips had even been cut out from the glaive where it had connected with her sword.

Thank the stars for small miracles. She ran at the demon, readying her sword. The demon stepped back, swinging the glaive down at her head. This time she could see it and she slashed out, driving her blade again the pole just beneath the blade. Unfortunately while the blade cut in deep, it didn’t hew through the wood entirely, instead knocking the blade off target and to the side. He shoved the glaive forward, knocking her off balance when she tried to pull her sword free. He brought the shaft around and slammed it into her chest, sending her hurtling back through the air and rolling along the ground a few times before she finally came to a stop.

Joan didn’t even have a moment to collect herself before she saw the glaive blade coming down at her head. She sat up, the blade clipping a few hairs from her head, but missing her. She rolled over and jammed both her hands down, putting her entire weight against the back of the polearm.

The demon lifted it up despite her efforts, throwing her off it and through the air with an ease that she couldn’t help but find a bit offensive. She flew a few feet before she slammed back into what she could only imagine was a tree, hitting it and bouncing to the ground.

Everything hurt, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. She looked up and saw that blade coming down at her. She had no time to draw her other blade, so she did the only thing she could do.

When she had been the Hero, she had learned dozens of techniques to deal with foes when unarmed. Her body had been special, deflecting normal blades with her bare hands had even been possible, especially when she had trained for it. She called on those instincts again.

She thrust her hands out when the blade came at her. It took every ounce of strength she had, but she drove her hands into the side of the blade, hitting it off kilter and straight into the tree she had slammed into. Agony washed over her palms where the blade had slashed them on the way in, but she tried to drown it out and focus on the task at hand. Namely, survival. Even though it made the pain only worse, she grabbed the shaft as tightly as she could, trying to keep it away from the demon. He tried to pull it back, but with both her hands and the depth the blade had dug into the tree, he was finding it not as easy as he hoped.

Unfortunately, the blood on Joan’s hands was making her grip worse and no matter how hard she held the pole was slowly being pulled back by the demon.

Then the demon let out a low, pained cry and went entirely still. Behind him she could see Bauteut, the girl having pushed her palms against his back and whispering something under her breath.

Joan didn’t know how long the spell would work, but she couldn’t let this opportunity pass. She let the polearm go and drew her other sword from its sheath and struck, the blade slicing clean through the air and into the neck of the demon. The blade went deep but, sadly, didn’t fully behead the creature. But he slowly began to drop, emitting a startled, gurgling sound from his throat before she pulled the sword back and swung a second time, beheading it entirely.

Joan stared at the body for a few moments before dropping to her knees. “We did it,” she whispered. “What did you do?”

“Paralyzing spell,” Bauteut said before walking over and kneeling by her. “Are you hurt? Let me see.”

Joan nodded and then held out her hands. The adrenaline was slowly fading and the pain in her palms was quickly growing without the distraction. “Are you going to get mad at me for killing him?” she asked.

“He was a demon, I’m not surprised you had to kill him. I’m more concerned about you, these cuts are deep,” Bauteut said. The pain began to die, but not fade entirely. “It’ll take a few days before they’re fully done healing. Just try to be gentle with them until they aren’t tender, okay?”

Joan nodded. “Can’t you heal them entirely?”

“I could, but that would drain you a lot more than I feel comfortable doing right now. The last thing we need is for you to get sick again,” Bauteut said before running her hands along the now closed wounds, the blood falling off it and leaving the fingers and palm smooth and clean. She then reached into her bag and pulled out a roll of bandages and began to wrap the hand. “Still, good job.”

“You’re not going to scold me for getting hurt?” Joan asked in a teasing tone, the pain now little more than a dull ache.

“I watched that. Compared to what could have happened, it wasn’t so bad. Slashed up palms are better than being entirely impaled, after all.”

“Thank you,” Joan said with a smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. If I’d had more magic and been able to enhance my body properly, I--” She was cut off by a finger being pushed to her lips.

“Shush. You did fine. You don’t need to do everything yourself, Joan. We’ve talked about this a few times. Just let me help you, okay?”

Joan nodded and gave a soft sigh. “If you insist.” She looked up at the other girl binding her palms. “The fact I can see now. That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Yes. It won’t last long, though,” Bauteut said. “It’s a simple enough support spell.”

“Why do you even know something like that?” Joan asked.

“Sometimes healers have to work in the dark. We may have to be in hiding and light could give us away, or our patients may be very sensitive to the light, sometimes smoke wouldn’t work and a light spell would be too obvious. In case you’re wondering, though, no it doesn’t work in complete darkness. I tried it when we were traveling through your darkness weaving spell. It didn’t make seeing any easier at all.”

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Joan nodded before glancing back towards the body. Her eyes narrowed when she realized that they had a messenger bag on their hip. “They weren’t sentries,” she whispered.

“Huh?” Bauteut asked.

“Messengers,” Joan said, motioning her head towards the body. “They might have orders.” She couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. If those two hadn’t been sentries or scouts for the main camp, they likely wouldn’t be missed for a while, if at all. Assuming Searle stopped the other from making it to their camp.

“Wonderful,” Bauteut said before she finished binding the palms and began to put the rest of the bandages away.

“Could you teach me that spell? The one to see in the dark?”

Bauteut froze for a moment before turning to her. “Wait, what?”

“Could you teach me it?”

“I mean, I suppose. You don’t know it?”

“I, err, never learned it,” Joan said sheepishly, her cheeks beginning to burn. As the Hero she’d never really needed it. While the Hero couldn’t see as well as a demon in the dark, he could still see far, far better than she could now. Even though he had heard of such spells he hadn’t ever put much thought into them.

Bauteut gave a small smile before she reached out and patted her on the head. “Of course I could. I really must say, I’m amazed you don’t know such a simple spell. For a prodigy like you, I’m sure you’ll understand it in a day or two.”

Joan gave a snort and rolled her eyes. She doubted it’d take her more than an hour, maybe two, at best. Her thoughts were shaken by the sound of heavy boots and she turned down the road to see Searle making his way towards them. “Are you two okay?” he asked.

“Joan is a little cut up, but nothing serious,” Bauteut said. “You?”

“I caught them before they could get close enough to raise an alarm. I tried to clean up the mess as best I could and moved the body into the trees, but I don’t think we should camp anywhere near here,” Searle said before reaching holding up his right hand, a scroll held in it. “They had this. It’s too dark to read.”

Joan couldn’t help feeling a bit of glee and almost ran up to hug him, instead she controlled herself and held out her hand. He dropped it into her hand and she quickly opened it. The spell made it far easier for her to read, though she quickly realized what it was. It was an alert to the camp. She had never been the best at reading demon and there was plenty in the message she couldn’t understand fully, there were a few things she could.

“Tomorrow,” Joan said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

“What?” Searle asked. “You can read that?”

“Bauteut’s spell,” Joan said. “They are going to send more of the monsters tomorrow, if I’m reading this correctly, When the moon is at its highest.” Joan glanced up at the sky for a moment, before looking back down at the scroll. “We can make it.”

“Make it?” Bauteut asked. “Why would we want to be there? Shouldn’t we be going back to warn the camp?”

“No,” Joan said. “They’ve already got defenses. But this can give us another edge. If we can make it to their camp before midnight tomorrow, then we can see how they’re sending these things.”

Bauteut’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t be serious. We’re traveling on foot, do you know how long that’d be? There’s no way we can--”

“If we don’t camp tonight, we can,” Joan said, shaking her head.

Bauteut stared at her as if she lost her mind. That stare only got more intense when the healer realized she was serious. “You want us to travel like--”

“To find out what strange and secret weapon the demons are using to enable them to launch those monsters across the kingdom? Yes,” Joan said. “This may be our only chance. We need to hide this body and then go. Searle, will you help me?” she asked before she started to walk towards it.

Bauteut, however, blocked her way. “Joan, I don’t think you’re quite aware of what you’re wanting to do here. It--”

“The demons can launch the werewolves to the castle. That means they could launch them to other places all over the kingdom. Entire towns, villages and who knows what else could be wiped out if we don’t find out how they’re doing it,” Joan said. “Not to mention there’s no telling if there’s something else they have planned, the werewolves might only be the beginning. This is our chance, it may be our only chance, to find out how.”

Bauteut sighed before shaking her head. “How do you even know how to read it? It’s demon.”

“Korgron taught me a little,” Joan said before cringing and closing her eyes. Damn it.

“Who?” Bauteut asked.

“It, nothing,” Joan said with a soft sigh. “Don’t worry about it. That’s not important right--”

“Yes, it is,” Bauteut said.

“Fine, it is, but we don’t really have time for it right now,” Joan said quickly. “I just know a little bit. Please, just trust me.”

“For someone who won’t trust anyone else, you sure ask us to trust you a lot,” Bauteut said. “Searle, what about you?”

The chosen cringed and shook his head. “I would really rather not get involved.”

Bauteut let out an exasperated growl. “Joan, enough. Give me something. Give me one good reason. Just one. Please. Give me something to make trusting you not insane.”

Joan sighed and knelt down by the corpse before looking around. How could she even begin to explain this? Worse, the throbbing in her hands made her suspect she couldn’t just ignore the other girl or tell her to leave. As much as it pained her to admit, she needed Bauteut’s help. Possibly more than ever now. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Try me,” Bauteut said.

Joan sighed and finally looked over to her. They had limited time, so if she was going to explain, she’d have to make it quick. “Fine. The chosen are Hardwin the Ferocious, Searle the Diligent, Andres the Gentle, Thalgren the Golden, Neia the Radiant, Chase the Trickster and Korgron the Vile. Three of them are humans, one is a dwarf, one is an elf, one is a changeling and one is, in fact, a demon. I know all of them incredibly well, but they don’t know me. I have seen most of them die more times than I ever want to count. I have heard of their deaths more times than I can count. I have watched them suffer and be torn apart and watched them endure pain and struggles that none of them deserved. I have been, repeatedly, betrayed by almost all of them multiple times. I’ve fought the Demon Lord again and again only to lose to him in the very end. I have fought the Inferno God and torn this very world away from the realm of the gods in order to save it over and over, then watched helplessly as our world fell apart, alone and cut off. I know all these things because I have lived through it over and over and there is so much more I still need to fix. Because I was THE Hero. Not a hero. THE Hero. The one of legends. The leader of the chosen. I know it doesn’t make sense and I can still explain but there is a timer on all of this. Every day our world gets ever closer to its very end and if I don’t find a way to stop it then none of it matters. You, me, Searle, the queen, everyone you’ve ever loved or cared about is damned. Forever. I don’t have time or, frankly, the knowledge on how to prove it to you. I’m already having enough trouble trying to get the chosen to understand and believe me and they’re, honestly, the only ones who have any real hope of stopping this.”

“I can’t fix it, not like this. Only the chosen can. But things are getting out of control. They’re already happening so much faster than they should be. If we can’t gather all of the chosen before they fully spiral out of control, it won’t matter if the demons wipe out all of humanity, the elves or even the dwarfs. Because we’ll all be gone, anyway. Every single thing I do has to focus on that. On finding someway to delay the end long enough for us to find them. Right here, right now? That involves finding out what thing the demons are using in order to launch these weird attacks and getting the help from the fae to delay them. It means getting what we need from the fae to bypass so many trials and troubles in the future. Unfortunately, I need your help to do this because, as you say, I am just a child. As much as I hate to say it, I’d be dead now if not for you. I couldn’t fight that demon by myself and I needed your help. So just please. I need you. I need your help. I need the help of anyone who can help me. And I need you to not tell anyone because if the wrong people find out this world could be just as damned.”

Bauteut stared at her, her eyes widened in shock. Unfortunately, it was at that point that the spell to see in the dark ended and so she could no longer make out the other girl’s features.

However, after a moment a hand lightly patted her on the head. “See, was that so hard?” Bauteut asked.

Joan blinked a few times and tried to process what she’d just been told. “What?” she finally asked. “You believe me?”

“Good heavens, no,” Bauteut said with a laugh. “I mean, not fully. But I’m sure you’ll explain it to me better later. Searle seems to believe you, at least. So I’m sure there’s more I’ll pick up. But if we’re really that desperate for time, then we’d best get going. Go clean off your swords, Searle and I will deal with the body.”

Joan nodded slowly, though she couldn’t help feeling a little shocked and emotionally numb after that. How could Bauteut just accept it so easily? Or at least kind of accept it?

Joan then shook her head and walked towards the dropped swords and began to clean and then sheath them. She wondered if, maybe, she just attracted weird people into her life. Somewhat insane ones, at least.

No matter. Joan would become best friends with the Demon Lord himself if that was what it took to save the world. Heck, she’d even marry him if it meant she could plunge a sword into his neck.