Chapter 26: Book 2 Chapter 04: Tears

Joan closed her eyes and tried to go over everything that had happened to see if there was something she had missed that would give her an edge against this monster. Unfortunately, they hadn’t even made it to the dining hall before that thing had come after them. No, she had heard some yelling right beforehand, but she had thought it was part of the party. She’d had only a split second to react and she had done so by grabbing the nearest thing, in this case a vase, and smashing it on the creature’s face to stun it for a moment. Then she’d grabbed Bauteut and the pair had run into the nearest room and slammed the door shut behind them.

She tried to tune out the sound of it pounding on the door and focus on what it was. It looked almost human, but she knew it wasn’t. It was bigger than any human she’d ever seen and covered in so much fur, claws and teeth that it might as well have been a great wolf of--

“Oh for all the damn things it could be, it’s a werewolf,” Joan said.

“Well good for it!” Bauteut yelled before letting out a shriek when a claw gouged out a hole through the door. “How do we get it to stop?”

“Easy, we… we…” Joan’s words died in her throat. She didn’t have her weapon. The weapons of the chosen could destroy the creatures easily enough, but very little else could. They were incredibly destructive and powerful. More importantly, they weren’t supposed to exist here. Werewolves shouldn’t have appeared yet and they certainly never made it this far into the human capital.

“Joan! You’re the mercenary! You’re the one with training in this kind of stuff, what do we do?” Bauteut asked, letting out another scream when a chunk of the door was broken through by the creature’s head. She grabbed Joan and yanked her away, both stumbling away from the monster before it shattered its way fully through the door, sending bits of wood everywhere.

“FIRE!” Joan yelled. “Purifying, it has to be purified!” She held out her right hand and tried to cast her fire magic.

Fire erupted around her hand, melting the skin off drip by drip, then making her blood sizzle until nothing remained but the bones. Second by agonizing second the bones began to melt as well, her body burning away in the flames of the Inferno God.

“Joan!” Bauteut yelled, shaking her. “I don’t know any fire magic. You’re the prodigy, do something!”

Joan looked up, dazed and confused. There hadn’t been any fire and her hand was fine. Bauteut had dragged the two of them into the corner, but it didn’t do any good. The room they had taken refuge in seemed to be another guest room and was mostly empty, with just a desk and bed. The werewolf had finally torn the remnants of the door off itself and was now eyeing them. She wondered if it was expecting another trick.

But Joan couldn’t do anything. She didn’t have any weapons. She wasn’t even sure her new sword could hurt it. Even if she had her new sword, she wasn’t the hero anymore. She’d be lucky to penetrate its hide, let alone kill it, before it tore her apart.

Joan couldn’t win this fight. No matter what she did, there wasn’t any victory to be had here. She failed. The thought slammed down on her like a heavy boot on her chest.

The werewolf slowly lumbered forward, its yellow eyes glancing left and right, likely searching for any traps as it made its was ever closer.

It was even worse than the troll. At least there Hardwin had saved her when everything had gone wrong. The only one she could count on now was Searle and he wasn’t here. He’d probably arrive too late. When had he ever been good for anything? He didn’t even know they were--

Joan’s eyes widened. “SEARLE!” she screamed.

The monster lunged.

Joan grabbed Bauteut and she threw herself and the other girl out of the way and onto the bed, her right hand aiming behind herself and silently casting a single, simple spell. Ice formed over the floor a moment later.

The wolf slammed into the wall and tried to turn around and charge at them. However, instead its paws spun on the ground for a moment before it promptly fell over. “SEARLE! HELP!” Joan screamed again, her hand moving towards the position of the werewolf and forming another layer of ice. It was only a few feet of ground covered and she knew it might only buy them a few seconds, but it was all she could do now. As ashamed as she was to have to yell for help, it was better than death.

“Joan!” Searle’s voice was like the sound of the most beautiful harp. He was coming. Just a few more seconds. The wolf dug its claws into the ground, shattering her ice before lunging at them.

Joan held out her hand and tried to cast another ice spell, trying to form a wall of ice between her and the monster. She mentally screamed at herself. The ice was only a few inches wide in front of her, it didn’t even reach out to touch the walls or floor to grip onto. In the end, it wouldn’t even impede the monster.

She was going to die now, torn apart with her rescuer only feet away. She’d been so close to surviving and now, because of her inability to make a stupid wall of proper ice, she was going to die.

The wind was knocked out of her when an arm wrapped around her stomach and pulled her back, dragging her off and then behind the bed, slamming into the stone floor with a painful crash. She laid there for a moment and watched the wolf fly over her head, its claws mere inches from scraping her before it twisted in the air and crashed a few feet away.

Bauteut held her against her stomach, neither of them moving while they stared at the beast righting it self. Joan couldn’t move, all she could do was stare at its yellow eyes that were on her.

Then Searle was there, between the two of them, his shield up. The werewolf charged, but he knocked it away with a single blow. A large spike erupted from the shield a moment later and he charged forward, impaling the creature before great, blinding light flowed out from it, enveloping the monster.

In only a few moments, the monster was dead. Its smoking body fell to the ground and Searle turned to them, quickly kneeling by them. “Are you two okay?” he asked.

“We’re fine. What was that?” Bauteut asked.

“I don’t know. There’s more, though. I--”

“Go, go, we’re fine, just help them,” Bauteut said.

Searle nodded and then ran off. Joan watched him leave and, for the first time in ages, she had to suppress to the urge to ask him to come back.

As the Hero there had been so many times where she had just arrived in the last second. Where people were on the verge of death and he saved them. Where he had burst into a room and slain the beast, only to have them collapse after and thank him. He’d found it so silly. They hadn’t even been hurt, why did they act so upset? He’d often left quickly to deal with the next threat, ignoring their cries to please stay. Hadn’t they understood that there were more dangers out there?

But now she finally understood. She’d died so many times in her past, but this time felt oddly different. It hadn’t been her dying when she failed. She’d been utterly helpless and pathetic. She couldn’t do anything to that monster. She had expected to die a painful, violent death without being even able to get off a proper defense against it.

She had only a few bumps on her, at best. She was fine. She didn’t get hurt, she’d faced far worse threats in the past. This wasn’t a big deal. So why was it when the tears began to fall, she couldn’t suppress them? Why was it that every part of her screamed that she wanted Searle to come back and make sure she was safe? Why was it that when Bauteut hugged her and lightly pet her hair, she just leaned into the comfort and cried harder.

“It’s okay,” Bauteut whispered. “It’s okay. We’re okay now. You did a good job. Searle’s taking care of it. Cry as much as you need to.”

Joan nodded, trembling against the other girl. She hated herself for it. But, in this moment, in this situation, she let her tears flow and accepted it.

At least she finally understood how those she had rescued felt. By the gods she preferred being the rescuer, not the rescued. How did people live like this? How could someone wake up every day knowing that they could die at any moment and not be able to do anything about it? To be entirely helpless against the threads of fate? Why did the gods allow such a thing? She tried to push all of the resentment, the fear, even the hate that boiled to the surface away, but she couldn’t. “I hate them…” she whispered softly, sobbing into Bauteut’s chest.

“Who? The monsters?” Bauteut asked, gently stroking her hair.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Joan whispered. “It’s not fair. I don’t want this. Nobody wants this. I shouldn’t be helpless.”

“It’s okay, Joan,” Bauteut whispered soothingly. “It’s okay, we’re safe now. You don’t need to handle this. Just leave it to Searle.”

By the gods how many times had she said that as the Hero? ‘Just leave it to me’. ‘I’ll protect you’. ‘Nobody will hurt you ever again’. All of those words she used to use so often to bring people peace. Had they sounded so hollow to the ones the Hero said them to? Had they done anything? In the end she’d merely failed them again and again. Is this how they’d always felt back then? Like they’d been saved, but like they’d had no real effect on the outcome? That they were only saved thanks to sheer stupid luck? “I’m so sorry,” Joan whispered.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bauteut whispered softly, continuing her gentle stroking. “It’s okay to be scared, Joan. I was scared too and I’m quite a bit older than you.”

“No you’re not,” Joan said with a roll of her eyes.

“Fine, I’m a few years older than you,” Bauteut said before gently putting her hands on her shoulders and pushing her back until they were eye to eye. “It’s okay, though. Just remember, you’re still a little girl. You don’t need to do everything yourself.”

“I could before,” Joan said softly.

“And how did that turn out for you?” Bauteut asked.

Joan almost snapped back and said it worked fine, but she stopped herself. If it had worked out fine would she even be here? Would countless people have died over her mistakes? Slowly her eyes lowered again. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Bauteut said with a small sigh. “Listen, I understand. You grew up alone, you never really had anyone to look out for you and now it’s hard for you to accept any help, right? Especially not from people like Searle or the royal family. You still want to do everything yourself, be it fighting demons or putting on over elaborate dresses. But that’s not how it works.”

Joan sighed. “I wasn’t always alone,” she said softly.

“No, I guess not. You joined that fighting company, right? But, Joan, that’s just it,” Bauteut said in a soft, soothing tone before reaching out to take her hands. “We’re your fighting company now. Let us help you.”

“I don’t need help. I shouldn’t need help. I--”

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“Well maybe we do,” Bauteut said, cutting her off.

Joan paused, staring at the other girl. “What?”

“Maybe some of us need your help too. I’d be dead now if not for you. If you hadn’t bought time for us with that ice spell of yours, which, by the way, was rather impressive. I can’t believe you didn’t need an incantation to do that.”

“It wasn’t strong at all,” Joan said with a shake of her head. “A child could have done it.”

“You are a child,” Bauteut said with a shake of her head. “An older one, yes, but still one. But some of us need you. Just because you can’t carry every burden by yourself doesn’t mean we don’t need you to help us carry what you can.”

“Then I--”

“But that also means we need you to take care of yourself, too. If you take on too much and end up hurt, then where will we be? We’ll have to both take care of you and pick up the slack you were carrying. Isn’t it better for you to just let us help you from the beginning so you never get hurt to begin with?” Bauteut asked.

Joan stared at her for a long moment, trying to pick at the logic in her words. Worse, she knew they were true. If she was still the hero, she could have carried everything herself. The only ones who would have been worthy to help her would have been the chosen and even they she struggled to let carry the burden at times. She lowered her eyes slightly and gave a gentle sigh. “I hate that you’re maybe a little right.”

“I’m a lot right,” Bauteut said with a light chuckle.

“Let me guess, wisdom of age?” Joan asked.

“No, healer training. We have a whole lesson on over extending ourselves. You’d be amazed how many healers end up dying by draining all of their reserves on the front lines and trying to save everyone,” Bauteut said with a small smile before reaching up and gently wiping the tears from Joan’s eyes. “Sometimes we have to carry a lot more than our fair share, Joan. You know that. So it’s okay to let us help you when you need it. There’s nothing wrong with being scared or needing to cry. No matter who you are or how old you are. Even the chosen get scared sometimes and I know Searle has cried plenty of times.”

Joan rolled her eyes. “Searle cries a lot, that’s just who he is. I bet if we’d died he would have cried over that too.” She cringed after saying that, regretting the words almost instantly. She imagined Searle would have cried and never forgiven himself for failing then.

“He would have. After all, he’s a chosen. It’s kind of his job to save everyone, right? So what does it mean if he can’t?” Bauteut asked.

“He can’t save everyone,” Joan said with a shake of her head.

“But do you think he knows that?” Bauteut asked.

“Of course he does. We…” Joan trailed off none the less. She thought back to her memories of Searle and their past lives. Every time that he’d been there until the end he’d fallen and become the final enemy. The one who killed them all. She’d told him as such. He knew he couldn’t save everyone. He likely knew he couldn’t save anyone if he allowed himself to be tainted again. “He knows. Trust me. He knows.”

“Good. Then maybe he can teach you, before you get yourself killed again,” Bauteut said. “He needs you, you know. You’re the first one to believe in him, after all. Hardwin made him promise to keep you safe as well. If he failed, how could he face him then?”

Joan sighed and gave a small nod before reaching up to wipe her eyes. “I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it. I don’t want to feel helpless like that. How do people do it?”

Bauteut chuckled. “Well, to be fair, most of us don’t regularly expect to fight monsters like that.”

“I do,” Joan said before she could stop herself.

That gave the healer pause and she stared at her. For a moment, Joan was awaiting another lecture, but instead the girl just looked sad. “I expect you do. So that’s why we’ll have to all work extra hard so you don’t get yourself killed. Then where will we be? I can’t be a healer if there’s nobody to heal, now can I?”

Joan shrugged. To be honest, if it came to that, she desperately hoped that the book she had filled with her memories and thoughts would be enough to help them get through everything that was to come if she died. But it was probably better if she was there besides them. There were still so many little things locked away in her memory that seemed to creep out at the strangest times, things they all might need in the future. Sometimes it felt like huge pieces of her memories were still locked away, only drips of them coming through at a time. “I guess in trouble. Please don’t tell them I cried, okay?”

“Promise. If they ask, I’ll say I cried,” Bauteut said with a small smile. “Also, peed myself a little.”

Joan couldn’t help herself, she moved a hand up to her mouth and burst into laughter. “You don’t need to lie that much.”

“Who’s lying?” Bauteut said with a shudder. “Thank the gods for cleaning spells.”

That only made Joan laugh harder. She knew it was such a small thing, but it made her sobbing fit seem so much more mundane now.

However, before she could come up with a proper response her attention was drawn to a heavy pounding on the door. She glanced over and saw Searle standing in the frame, a frown on his face. “I think we got them all. I’ve been called to attend his highness during the briefing when they meet with the prince, but I’d like to see you back to your room first.”

Joan cocked an eye. “You want me to wait in my room?”

“Just for a little while,” Searle said nervously. “It’s for your own good. If there are any more of those things then--”

“Then truly the safest place to be would be up in our room, alone, without any weapons that could harm them and outside of screaming distance of the greatest warrior in the castle, right?” Bauteut asked.

Searle quickly shook his head. “Of course not, I mean, yes. But you won’t be alone, there will be guards who--”

“Are we forbidden from joining you?” Bauteut asked, cutting him off.

“Err, well, no, but--”

“Lord Hardwin wanted you to keep Joan safe, didn’t he?” Bauteut asked before getting to her feet and offering her hand to Joan. “Is it really keeping her safe if she’s up there where she’s most vulnerable?”

Joan blinked a few times before taking the hand. She glanced up to Bauteut before barely suppressing a smile. She had been trying to think of what to say to the chosen herself to attend this meeting, but it seemed the healer had beaten her to the punch. Besides, she had to gather whatever information she could about those werewolves if she was going to have any chance of figuring out their source. She reached up and took Bauteut’s hand and let the other girl help her up. Bauteut quickly pulled her back against her chest, letting her face Searle. She could see the indecision on his face. “It’s for her own good. I--”

“I understand,” Joan said, doing her best to make herself sound small and, though she loathed it, weak. “I’ll wait in my room, I wouldn’t want to get in your way.” For added affect she even gave a small sniffle.

Oh, that did it. She could see the way his resolve crumbled under that and he quickly looked away. “Fine. Okay, you win,” Searle said before shaking his head. “Come on, let’s go.” He turned and walked down the hall away from them.

Bauteut chuckled and shook her head. “You know, you can almost be cute and, dare I say it, adorable when you try.”

“I feel pathetic,” Joan muttered before pulling away from the other girl. “Still, at least it worked. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“What?” Bauteut asked.

“I know you only made a big deal about that because you know I didn’t want to be left behind,” Joan said with a small smile.

“What? Nonsense,” the healer said with a haughty tone. “All I did was merely mention the dangers of such a thing. After all, I don’t want to be left alone anymore than you do. Those things were terrifying. Besides,” Bauteut said before reaching out to lightly ruffle Joan’s hair and give her a small smile. “Knowing you, if I didn’t, you’d have tried to go and sneak down there anyway.”

Joan chuckled and sighed, letting the other girl ruffle her hair. “Probably. I don’t like being pent up. Let me guess, another healer trick?”

“Indeed. Predicting the patient. In your case it’s pretty easy,” Bauteut said before she started to walk towards the door, Joan quickly moving to walk ahead of her. “I just imagine what is the most reckless thing you could do, then assume you will do it.”

“I don’t do that all the time!” Joan said quickly. “And it’s not always reckless. Sometimes it’s just necessary.”

“Spoken like a true thrill seeker,” Bauteut said with a roll of her eyes. “Come on, Joan. Let’s go catch up with Searle before some other monster gets in our way.”