Chapter 83: Book 4 Chapter 17: Deal Made

The last blockage of rock gave way and let them out into the daylight. Bright light blinded Joan, but with it came fresh air. She stepped out with the others into the open world.

Only for an ice cold breeze wash over her and snow to drop from above, burying them. A moment later it was gone, though Joan was now entirely soaked and the chill seeped through her entire body, down to her bones.

Korgron glanced over at her and was about to say something, but stopped herself to stare.

“W-what?” Joan asked, trying to keep herself from chattering, though her arms were kept wrapped tightly around herself. “W-what’s so funny?”

“You really do look like a drowned mouse,” Korgron said with a light snicker.

“Let’s go,” Joan said fiercely before squinting and looking out through the tunnel. Of course, nothing could be easy, could it? They were up the side of a mountain. Incredibly high up. It would likely take them an hour or so to just climb down. It looked like there had once been a path, but it had partially collapsed or been buried, she couldn’t fully tell. She wondered if Korgron had realized how high they were and, if so, why she hadn’t mentioned it.

Then again, knowing the demon it might have been intentional.

Either way she already felt half frozen and her clothes were all wet and covered in frost. They were made for a bit of rain, not snow and ice.

On the upside, it seemed Korgron wasn’t wrong. She could see a river off in the distance and, presumably, what might be a settlement of some kind. It was too far for her to make out from here, but she supposed it might be Skystead.

A feeling of dread washed over her, though try as she might to lock onto what was causing the dread, she couldn’t. Something nagged at her, telling her it was important to be here, but also dangerous. She leaned in a little closer to Searle.

“Come on,” Korgron said. “Wait, actually…” She glanced down the mountain, her eyes narrowing. After a few moments she glanced to Andreas. “Wanna cut down our time?”

“Same as last time?” Andreas asked.

“Yeah,” Korgron said. “Lots of trees down there, easy enough to make it.” She held out her hand and Andreas took it.

It took Joan a moment to realize what they were doing, but once she did she felt a rust of giddy glee. With their hands locked, she could almost envision the way their magics were now flowing together, weaving the complex spell ahead of them. She couldn’t help feeling a little jealous as well.

They were both chosen, their magic could combine in so many ways that, even as the Hero, she’d been unable to properly emulate. She’d been able to combine her magic with theirs, of course, but it had never been the same. The two were the avatars of their respective elements, able to weave them in ways that even the Hero could never do. When they worked in unison? It was almost a work of art. Clouds of darkness formed around their hands before flowing out from them and latching onto the walls of the tunnel. It then spread out, like ice, coating it in an inky wave of darkness.

“Go ahead,” Korgron said.

Joan didn’t hesitate, she walked straight into the portal.

Unlike teleporting, it was a much smoother transition. One moment she was in a cold, freezing tunnel walking on stones, the next she was stepping on soft grass, still slightly cool but nothing like the fierce icy winds that buffeted her above. While the shift was just as sudden, the feeling of going from one to the other felt much easier. She didn’t feel as if she was being spread out or flung across the world, it more felt like walking through a door. After a moment Searle walked through, followed by Korgron and Andreas. Then the portal closed behind them.

Joan took a moment to examine their surroundings. They were now in the woods at the base of the mountain, hidden under the trees. It would still be quite a walk to the village, but at least now they wouldn’t be traveling through the snow and ice. “Thank you,” Joan said.

“I just don’t like climbing things,” Korgron said. “Besides, that was quicker.”

Joan doubted that was entirely true, but she kept her mouth shut. It likely was more for her benefit, the cold barely affected the chosen normally. She was certainly susceptible to it, though. Slowly the group began to make their way towards the town.

Joan couldn’t help feeling that creeping dread nagging at her again. Something important. These woods felt familiar, though she couldn’t remember the Hero ever coming anywhere near here. Why would he? There hadn’t exactly been any major threats near here and the demons hadn’t gotten this far when she was the Hero.

But something told her that she should turn around now. But she also felt as if something was calling her, telling her that she had to be here. She glanced back towards the three chosen.

They would be fine. Joan knew this place. The mountain felt familiar. Even the air felt familiar, as if she had breathed it a hundred times. A scent she couldn’t quite place. Kind of damp. Comforting.

She just wished she could remember how. What happened here, had the Hero really come here for some important reason?

 

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The longer they traveled the more certain Joan became that she had been here. Everything felt familiar. The trees, the paths, the sights and smells. But that creeping feeling of dread still nagged at her, on the edge of her mind. Telling her something she had to see, had to know, was waiting for her.

Maybe she had only come here a few times across her lives? But why? The memory nagged at her, twisted in her mind. Strangely, there didn’t seem to be any sign of demons. This was in their territory, so why weren’t they here?

“Are there any signs of patrols?” Searle asked. “Am I missing them?”

Joan couldn’t help but grin. At least she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Lots of territory here,” Korgron said. “Spread thin. The Demon Lord wanted me to setup permanent portals across the territory in order to allowing his forces to better patrol them, but even I couldn’t do that. They just don’t have the resources available.”

“Their general tactic tends to be burn and destroy anything they find,” Andreas said. “But there’s still people in these areas, hiding and waiting for the demons to be pushed back.”

Joan barely suppressed herself from saying ‘if they’re pushed back’. That would happen in the future, if it did. For now, she needed to focus on the present. And in the present, she could hear the river. The all too familiar river. The splashing of it was something she’d heard a thousand times. The gentle creak of the watermill as well.

Joan could all but envision it. The watermill turning bit by bit, pushed by the water. Grinding away. She knew it. It WAS something she had experienced. She started walking faster. Something here was familiar. Something here was important. That feeling of dread began to be pushed further and further away when she felt the fog of memories beginning to part. She almost had it, she was so close. What had the Hero needed here? Why did he come?

“Joan, wait up,” Korgron said. “Don’t go so fast. Joan? Joan!”

Joan couldn’t help herself. She started walking faster and, before long, she was full on running. It was here. Something was here. She knew it. It was coming back to her. The smell of the water. The creak of the watermill. The gentle sound of chopping wood. The feeling of the stones when she ran out of the woods and ran barefoot along the river’s edge. The gentle hum of people in the fields. Her mother yelling for her to stop running. Her father up to his knees in the water, smiling when she ran towards him and--

Joan stopped on the edge of the river, staring out over it towards the remains of the village. An old, derelict watermill that was half burned down and overgrown with vines, lightly creaking as the half broken wheel turned. The charred remains of homes, long since destroyed.

The Hero hadn’t been here.

Joan had. This was her home. This was where she was from. This was where she was born. She had walked through these woods as a little girl. She had played in that river. She had watched her father working with the other fishermen, sometimes ferrying people across the river. Strange, faded memories came rushing back of a life that felt almost fake. How old had she been? Even now the memories seemed hazy, as if they would melt away in the light of day.

Joan stared for a moment before she couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. Of all the things in the world for her to forget, that was it?

“Joan?” Searle asked once he stepped out onto the shore. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m an idiot,” Joan said. “Let’s go. Let’s just go. I wasted all of our time. By the gods, what an idiot. How much time have we wasted? How many hours? The world is on the verge of disaster and I waste days thinking about this!” she said before motioning towards the burned, charred remains of the village. “I figured it out.”

“You did?” Searle asked before, very slowly, approaching her. Andreas and Korgron stepped out from the woods a few moments later, giving her a confused, uneasy look. “What is it?” Searle asked once he was close enough to reach out and touch her shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” Joan said. “It’s all nothing. I’ve been thinking about it for ages. I thought it was ACTUALLY something of value. Something I forgot. Something that was important to the Hero. But you know what? It wasn’t. It never was. It’s nothing. I dragged us all here for NOTHING!” Joan yelled before picking up and throwing a stone as hard as she could into the water. Still, though. There was something else. Something she did feel was important. Something she just couldn’t remember. But it was about Joan, not the Hero, so what did it matter? Something that told her that something was wrong. Well, her once home she couldn’t remember was in pieces, so how could it be anything BUT wrong? It was hardly worth getting all worked up over, though.

“You’re from here?” Searle asked. “Wait, you mean you were born here?”

“Yes,” Joan said. “And I forgot. Can you believe it? After everything else, I just forgot. Well, of course I did. Orphan. With all the things on my mind, how couldn’t I?” she asked before picking up another rock and throwing it into the river once more. She heard it, but couldn’t see it land this time. Thick mist was rising off the water now. “Let’s go. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, this has just been another waste of everyone’s time.”

“If you were from here, don’t you want to know about it?” Andreas asked.

“Why?” Joan asked. “Who cares? It’s all ruins and rubble and bubbles and fire and… and…” She slowly turned back around, towards the watermill.

Joan had been inside it when it burned. She remembered the screaming. She remembered the smoke. She remembered the fear. She remembered desperately trying to get out, being trapped. She remembered begging for help.

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The memories flooded in, rising up like the mist from the river.

She remembered being on the top floor, staring out into the river. She remembered hoping something would save her.

Something had answered that call.

She remembered the mist rising from the river, like it was now.

Joan remembered the gnarled, ivy covered hand lifting itself from the water in her deepest, most terrified moments. She remembered being so frightened she didn’t even listen to what it said, what it demanded of her to save her life. All she remembered was the fear.

“I have been waiting…” A cold, twisted, wicked voice said from the mist that now spilled out from the river, so thick she couldn’t see her feet anymore.

A river hag. She’d made a deal with a river hag. In those terrifying, horrific moments where she was on the verge of death.

The creature rose from the depths. Its body was almost human, but with thin, bony limbs covered in dripping trails of moss and its skin a dark blue, the flesh bloated and foul. Black, hollow eyes stared at her, its empty mouth forming into a cruel but hollow smile. “Child… Finally you return with your sacrifices. Join me and--”

“Err, well, this is awkward,” Joan said, cutting the creature off. “I actually didn’t remember this part.”

The hag was silent for a moment before taking a step onto the shore, a cold, clammy hand offered to her.

“I swear if you touch me I will end you,” Joan said. “Today is not the day for this.”

“Oh?” the hag asked before giving an amused laugh. “None may--”

“Silver and light magic to destroy the husk, you’ll return after three days. However, I just need to find the shrine where you draw your power and taint the lands, I’d say likely hidden somewhere within a half a day’s journey from here along the river? Then I just need to purify it with salt, sunlight and a simple light spell. At least, that’d be the hard way.”

The smile fell from the hag’s lips and it stared at her, even her hollow eyes seeming shocked.

“That is the hard way,” Joan said. “The easy way is him.” She then motioned to Searle.

“Me?” Searle asked. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“You’re the Chosen of the Shield,” Joan said. “Light magic is kind of your thing.”

“Chosen of the Shield?” the hag asked. Even through the moss and dripping, decayed flesh she could see the way the creature suddenly looked scared itself. Not that she could blame it. A hag like it was pretty horrific if one wasn’t properly equipped to deal with it, but against the Chosen of the Shield it might as well have been a rat fighting a demon. Even worse for it, dealing with hags was something she’d known how to do both as the Hero and was taught in the academy. Even without the chosen she could probably handle it. Yet, she honestly just felt so exhausted and tired. This was the ‘big important’ thing that she’d forgotten? This was what was causing that feeling of dread?

“Yes,” Joan said before sighing. “I made a deal with you once, didn’t I? I just… I don’t even… I just… I want to go. I just want to go.” Joan said before shaking her head and turning to walk to Korgron. She made it two steps before she felt icy, hard, burning hands wrap around her arm, fingers digging into the stitched gash and sending pain through her. Right. Evil hag. “Searle!”

“Oh, yes, right,” Searle said before running forward.

“Stay back, human, this child is--” The hag never even got a chance to finish the words before it was enveloped in light. The hand let her go and the monster stumbled back, its body covered in burns, the moss stripped away and its bony flesh looking almost like dried out wood now, rather than anything resembling flesh. “Y-you… you truly are--”

“Chosen of the Shield,” Joan said. “I tried to warn you.” She lifted up her arm and looked at where she had been grabbed. Her sleeve was slightly wet, the skin was bruised and the gash was bleeding again, but the stitches were still in place. Thankfully the clothing hadn’t torn so the wound wasn’t any dirtier. “When you use your light spells on it, don’t let up. It’s just a husk, but with your magic you should be able to follow along the connection straight to the shrine and destroy it from here.”

“Right,” Searle said.

“Wait! Mercy!” the hag pleaded. “I did not know, oh divine chosen! I merely--”

“Wait,” Joan said, her eyes going wide.

“Yes, wait!” the hag said.

“You saved my life then,” Joan said. “Didn’t you? What did you take in payment?”

“A life for a life,” the hag said with a cruel, bitter laugh. “Your life spared to be taken by--”

“Okay, just do it,” Joan said to Searle.

“Wait!” the hag said.

Joan didn’t even try to stop him this time. A hag. Of all the foolish things she could have done, she had made a deal with a river hag. Why had she even drawn the notice of one? It wasn’t--

The scream of the hag being destroyed filled the air, followed by the strange, echoing sound of its shrine being purged from the world. Then there was silence.

“Does anyone want to tell me what any of that was?” Korgron asked.

“River hag,” Joan said. “Evil creatures.”

“And why did it want you?” Korgron asked.

Joan just sighed and walked past Korgron to a large rock on the shore before sitting on it, staring out towards the burned remains of the village. Had she really wasted all of their time over something so small?

“River hags are evil spirits,” Searle said. “Strengthened by their shrines and sacrifices made at them. While I’ve never personally seen one before today, they… well…”

“Like most hags, they expand their numbers by grabbing children in need, often young girls. Usually from capsized boats and the like,” Joan said, reciting what she could from memory. “Vulnerable to light magic and purified silver, they are creatures of darkness. Difficult to kill, because their physical form isn’t really theirs. Once they rescue a child, they’ll often watch and wait, one day laying claim to the child again once they are older. Take control of the child, make them create a new shrine and then consecrate it in the blood of those closest to the child. Making them abandon them physical form and become a spirit as well.”

“I see,” Korgron said. “It’s gone now, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Joan said. “There might be more somewhere, but Searle destroyed that one. That’s what that sound was.”

“Why are you so upset, then?” Korgron asked.

“Because it’s my fault,” Joan said.

“What?” Korgron asked. “Joan, how could that possibly be your—”

“I asked to be an orphan,” Joan said. “I had the choice. A family or none.” She glanced up at the burned remains of the watermill. “I made the choice. Do you think it’s random chance that a river hag found me there? That I was there when whatever… that is happened?”

Joan was greeted by silence then. Not that she could blame them. She could admit that she may have a tendency to take blame for things that weren’t her fault. But this certainly was. The hag, the fire, who knew what other disaster had struck. She hadn’t thought things through when she’d made her choice. She’d only considered the idea that she might get too attached to her family. Thought it would have just meant she’d be unwanted.

But this? This could very well mean she was responsible for the death of her own parents. Then she’d wasted all of their time, dragged them here for no reason at all. Just so she could find out what she already knew, that the choices she’d made as the Hero were terrible. Not just for her, but for others. She wondered what it said about her that she didn’t even feel sad or angry or really that upset. She just felt hollow. She felt tired. She didn’t even want to cry.

She just wanted to go.

“Can we just go?” Joan asked. “I just… I want to go. Please.”

Korgron stared at her for a few moments before nodding. She walked over and gently put her hands on her shoulders before she began to recite her spell.