Chapter 183: Book 8 Chapter 18

“It doesn’t really look that durable,” Korgron said.

“Mmmm hm,” Joan said, not looking up from her breakfast. She had to give Chase credit, their travel rations weren’t the best but the changeling could make the finest cuisine out of a few roots and half a sparrow egg. So long as she was careful not to ask what was in it.

“Why do we need that key at all? I’ll bet I could blast my way through no problem,” Korgron said.

“Mmmmm hm,” Joan said before taking another bite. Ahhhhh, how did he make the eggs all but melt in her mouth?

“Are you even listening to me?” Korgron asked.

“If you want to try blasting your way in, go right ahead,” Joan said before taking another bite of the concoction. She swore there was a little tiny hint of mint in it. Where had Chase gotten mint? Ohhhh, he should have been Chosen of more than just the Gauntlets.

“Really?” Korgron asked.

“Mmmm hm, go wild,” Joan said.

“Uhhhhh, are you sure that’s wise?” Andreas asked, glancing up from his meal to give his future sister-in-law a nervous look.

“You heard her, it’s fine,” Korgron said before turning to walk off.

“Uhhhh…” Hardwin said, staring past Joan. “Joan?”

“It’ll be fine,” Joan said. She waited a moment before she heard the first explosion. She held up a single finger. “There’s one…” A moment later there was a rumble, followed by another explosion. “And two.” She waited and counted to five, before lifting a third finger. This time a wave of air washed over them following the explosion, but fortunately she had braced herself. “Searle? Could you put up a barrier before the fourth?”

“On it!” Searle yelled before gripping his shield and lifting it up. A moment later a dome of light formed around them. Judging by the looks of abject horror on the faces of the Chosen, it wasn’t a moment too late.

“She’s not, she can’t mean to, she’ll destroy it!” Hardwin said, his eyes wide. “Joan you can’t mean to—”

“It’ll be fine. It--” Joan’s words were cut off a moment later by the tremendous crash, bright flash of light and then the torrent of wind washing over them. It only lasted a few moments, though. Judging by the way the Chosen were desperately blinking to clear their sight it was quite the explosion. She finally glanced back towards the Chosen of the Crown.

The temple, an ancient building that looked as if it was on the verge of collapse surrounded by rubble and stone. There wasn’t even any scorch marks. All she’d really done was flatten a nearby cliff or two. Korgron was staring at it, her mouth open, her tail limp on the ground.

“You done?” Joan called after her. “Got it out of your system?”

“But… but…”

“I know, right?” Joan yelled. “It’s almost like we tried that a thousand times.” She then turned back towards her meal and paused. All of the Chosen were staring at her now. “What?”

“I hate when she does that,” Hardwin muttered.

“Same,” Andreas said.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Joan said.

“Nevermind, lil missy,” Thalgren said with a sigh. “Sometimes you just are a little too… you.”

Joan rolled her eyes and then went back to finishing her meal. They just worried too much. It wasn’t like Korgron could have succeeded. She was lucky but she wasn’t THAT lucky.

------

It was finally time. Joan stared up at the door, then looked down at the mark on her hand. It had taken so long, but this was it. They were going to save the world. Hopefully some other things too. She’d really hoped they could have ran into Arta on the way here, but it seemed she wasn’t so lucky. Joan turned and gave the Chosen, her friends, one last smile. “Don’t look so worried, I’ll be fine.”

“Joan,” Searle said. “You should come with us. You said that—”

“All of the Chosen have to go,” Joan said. “But somebody has to hold the door. Stop what’s coming. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like this,” Korgron said softly. “How are you supposed to fight this avatar if we couldn’t?”

“Because I’m going to run, we went over this,” Joan said with a roll of her eyes. “None of us could fight it. But when the heart dies, so does it. I’ve fought it a thousand times, I can get away from it. Better than any of you. Besides, I’ve got Guardian Nova.” She lightly tapped the sword at her hip. “It won’t be able to burn me and I don’t plan to let it get close enough to touch me. I won’t die, I promise.”

“I’m still holding you to that one,” Thalgren said. “Don’t even think about breaking this one.”

“I know, I won’t lie,” Joan said before rolling her eyes. “Just trust me. Please. Get through the temple, destroy the heart, save the world. Trust me to have your back this time, okay?”

“Don’t get hurt,” Hardwin said. “If you do, my mother will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Please,” Joan said. “I’m doing much better now. Besides, I’ve still got to rescue Penthe and Arta? This is just the beginning.”

“Beginning?” Chase asked. “And I thought we overdid it. Come on, let’s just get this over with. The sooner we finish, the sooner the celebrations can begin.”

“I’m sure you’ll do better than we did, Joan,” Myrin said with a gentle smile. “Just do please try to be more careful this time?”

“Of course I will,” Joan said sheepishly. “Now come on, let’s go.” She turned towards the massive door one last time. Very slowly she lifted her left hand up and let her magic flow out, into the key.

Through it, she absorbed the magic of the door, draining the seals that held it shut for so long. Behind her she could hear the crackling flames when the long abandoned temple began to spring to life once more. Soon, the final forces of the Inferno God would make themselves known. One final battle. Finally, the door opened. “G-go,” Joan said while she struggled to weave the spell, delaying it long enough for them to get through the door.

Searle spoke up, his voice filled with anxiety. “Maybe if I just--”

“GO!” Joan screamed. “Go or I WILL die! Then this will have all been for nothing!”

Despite his objections, Searle’s hand was grabbed by Hardwin and the seven Chosen went through the doorway. It slammed shut behind them, the last of the magic being absorbed and reshaped.

The flames behind her sprang to life, but Joan ignored them. She set the final spell the key would perform. Taking the magic it had absorbed, it shifted and altered the seal, forming a new one. One that even the Chosen couldn’t break. Tied to two lives.

So long as the Inferno God’s heart still lived, the magic that had once bound the door would bind it again.

So long as her heart still beat, that magic would remain trapped and controlled, reshaping into this new seal.

Pain shot through her left hand moments before a golden glimmer of magic flashed over it. The key was gone. Spent. Returned to the fae.

Behind her she heard the roar of the last of the envoys. The Avatar of the Inferno God. She turned around and stared at the army rising from the sands before her. Bodies of blazing flame. Fortunately, they were just obsidian trolls. She hadn’t wanted to tell the Chosen, but she had been a little worried the third and fourth envoy would be here as well. Far more than she could ever hope to fight.

But not more than she could flee.

“Listen here, you oversized campfire!” Joan yelled. “Do you know who I am? Of course you don’t! You couldn’t begin to! You don’t even know who you are!”

The flames took form, a massive body of flame woven of magic, the heat emitting of it was enough to make it hard to breath.

“Let me tell you!” Joan yelled. “You’re the Avatar of the embers of a dying god! Your master failed just as his master failed! Soon he, like all the others, will be gone! No matter how much pain, how much destruction he tries to cause in his death throes, it doesn’t matter! YOU’VE ALREADY LOST!”

Burning trolls of obsidian continued to rise from the ground, their bodies of flame burning a brilliant white.

“The Chosen will stop you! I’ll stop you! I will save Arta! I will save Penthe! I will save everyone! Do you know why?” Joan yelled. “I will save them because they saved me! I will never stop going! Burn me! Torture me! Kill me! Tear me apart! Rip my soul to pieces! I don’t care! Because I will never stop! I will never give up! I don’t care if it’s impossible! I don’t care if I fail! Throw every last desperate gambit you have at me! I will WIN!”

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“Ugh, there’s always a final stand speech with you, isn’t there? If I ever had any doubts, at least now they’re gone,” a voice called out, making her turn around and her eyes go wide. On top of the temple, the Demon Lord stood. No. Arta. Besides him his three titanslayers stood, eyes all staring down at her. On the one hand, she felt a sense of dread at realizing he was here. Why was he here? Why didn’t he appear sooner? Had really been hiding all this time? Why didn’t he try to stop the Chosen? But, on the other hand, she had to show him a little bit of respect. If he’d really been waiting for the Chosen to leave and been hiding near the temple, the fact he hadn’t revealed himself while Korgron was unleashing her little light show was impressive. Joan would have run for her life if she hadn’t been expecting it.

“Arta,” Joan said, clenching her fists. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re not supposed to be a little girl,” Arta said. “Call me the Demon Lord, not whatever that… other name is.”

“That’s not who you are,” Joan said. “You were the Champion once. You—”

“And here we go again,” Arta said before sitting on the edge of the temple and gazing down at her. “Is that what we’re doing? ‘Forsake your demonic side, join me and we can save the world’? Is that why you’re so different than I expected? Another little trick of the gods?” He waved his hand dismissively. “It seems I was correct, once simple minded, always simple minded. Tell me, what do you expect to happen? Me to come rushing to your aid? To decide to help you against, well, that?” Arta asked before motioning to the burning forces assembling themselves behind her. Still, they were forming far, far slower than she might have expected. “Face it, little hero. You’ve lost. Perhaps the Chosen will destroy the Inferno God. But there are other ways to tear them apart. You, though? I am curious how it will feel to tear you apart.” A cruel grin formed on his lips, one that sent chills down her back. “I’ve been searching for you for lifetimes. Only to have you appear in a form that, frankly, doesn’t match with any of my research. Just as filled with bravado and exhausting speeches as ever.”

Joan gulped and took a small step back. Oh, she had forgotten just how he could look at her. As the Hero she had never really given him the respect he deserved. He’d very rarely fought her directly, likely because he couldn’t hope to win. But he’d always been one step ahead, always managed to escape at the last moment. Until finally even he couldn’t. But now she was wondering if she’d be able to pull off the same trick. “We’re not enemies. I want to help you. I want to--”

“Oh by the gods,” Arta said with a shake of his head. “It certainly is you, isn’t it? I swear I feel I’ve heard this little speech a million times.”

“Actually, just once,” Joan said sheepishly.

“Very well,” Arta said with an exhausted sigh before waving his hand. “Get it out of your system so we can carry on.”

Joan’s hands clenched into fists and she looked between the army on one side and the Demon Lord above. She could do this. Somehow. She could. “I won’t give up on you,” she said. “I’m going to save you. I didn’t become the Hero so I could lose you! I refuse to lose anyone ever again!”

“Ah, of course. ‘All is good, blah blah, I’ll save everyone. Who cares about reality so long as I get what I want?’ All good? Finished?” Arta said with a roll of his eyes. “Good.” Flames formed in his hands before he sent them hurtling down at her.

In a moment her sword was in her hands. She held it up, the red flames going through it, only to turn blue before they enveloped her. Kind, gentle warmth enveloped her for a few moments before she swung the sword once, scattering the embers. For the first time since his arrival, Arta looked surprised, his eyes wide and locked on her.

Joan stared up at him, defiant as ever. “Demon Lord, Arta, it doesn’t matter. You think you know who I am, who the Hero is. But you don’t. My name is Joan! I am the Hero! Not because I’m strong! Not because I’m smart! Not even because of the gifts of the gods! I am the Hero because of one reason and one reason alone!” She pointed her sword up at him before giving a small smile. “I’m the Hero because I will save everyone. You. Penthe. This world. I refuse to ignore those who need my help!”

“Fancy trick, but nobody here is asking for your help. I don’t hear any screams but, well… yours,” Arta said before snapping his fingers. “Get her.”

Joan leaped back and rolled, narrowly avoiding the descending form of the first of the titanslayers. “I can hear your screams, Arta. I can hear all of your screams! I won’t let you down! Never again!”

The second titanslayer flew over head, its claws lunging at her. She held up her gauntlet, a barrier of light forming around her and causing the titanslayer’s claws to slash along it and fly over her, skidding across the stone ground. It held, though. The gauntlet felt far warmer than before, but it didn’t shatter.

“I’m not the one in pain here, Hero,” Arta said. “Stop calling me that. It’s Demon Lord.”

“NO! IT’S NOT!” Joan yelled once more. “You told me once that there is a lot in a title! And that’s not yours!”

“Oh, then what is?” Arta asked.

“Savior! Champion!” Joan yelled. “Teacher!”

Joan tumbled back, rolling just out of reach of the first titanslayer’s claws. But she realized she was getting in a worse position. The forces of the Inferno God weren’t moving, but she was being pushed back towards them now. Both of the titanslayers were in front of her now, which left--

The third. Joan had only a split second to notice a shadow falling over her and she only barely brought her barrier up in time, the titanslayer’s head slamming into it. The barrier finally collapsed under the assault, but it bought her enough time to roll away. She flicked her wrist and a knife appeared in her hand, which she sent flying at the demon’s head, though it bounced off.

“We’ll add Hero Slayer to that list, then,” Arta said with a chuckle. “Goodbye, Hero.”

Joan eeped when the third titanslayer readied its next attack, leaping at her. She held up her left hand, quickly trying to form a wall of ice. She could feel the gauntlet getting hotter, fueled by Hardwin’s magic amplification. Hopefully it would be ready again soon. If she lived that long.

Her attempt was needless, though. Suddenly the titanslayers were gone. No, she was gone. What? Where was she? On one of the cliffs overlooking the temple? She was looking down on the titanslayers and the forces of the Inferno God. When? How?

“I am thankful most humans aren’t like you,” Flickerpuff said from behind her.

Joan spun around, her eyes going wide. What? Why? When? WHAT? Wait.

“Who… when did… who are all of THEM?” Joan asked.

“Welllll,” Bauteut said. “We didn’t have a Chosen or an escape route this time.”

“But we all had a few favors to call in,” Zorn said with a shrug. “And hey. A dragon is a pretty great alternative. Two? Even better.”

“Vampire is pretty cool, too,” Qakog said with a massive grin. “So, tell me, seer. How does Slayer of the Titanslayer sound as my newest title?”

Joan stared at them. She couldn’t help it. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes despite it all. A massive dragon with beautiful emerald scales. Another seemingly made of plants and vines. A strange, cloaked figure standing in their shadows who she might have mistaken for a human if she didn’t know exactly what kind of undead, terrifying beast she was. Fae. Were those spirits? She knew those ones. The ones she’d had Andreas rescue, what were they doing here? Naga. Skeletons. Great lizards. Demons. Humans. Dwarves. Elves. How did so many creatures get--

Then she saw it. The summoning circle that Korgron had made the night before. Or, rather, she saw the edge of it. From what she could see it had to be large enough to summon an army.

Which it looked like it had. “I… I can’t… I can’t protect all of you,” Joan said, struggling to keep herself from crying. They were all in danger, didn’t they know that? They couldn’t win this. “I-I told you… I told you not to come. I told you--”

“What part of two dragons made you think we were the ones who needed protection?” Bauteut asked before walking to stand in front of her and gently brushing her hair back. “You want to save everyone, don’t you? Do you really think you can do that alone?”

Joan stared up at her friend before looking around at the forces. Some she knew from this life. Others she knew from being the Hero. Some she knew by name. Some she’d never bothered to learn. So many quests she’d sent all of them on, so many adventures she’d asked the Chosen to do. So many things they’d fixed.

Her tears fell, finally. “This won’t be easy. It’s really stupid, you know. We can’t kill it.”

“The Hero always was a bit of an idiot,” Bauteut said with a smile. “We don’t need to kill it, right? Just make sure it can’t kill us.” A moment later the smile faded and she looked past Joan. She reached forward to take her hand--

Joan turned around and saw the flames flying at them. The flames of the Avatar. It seemed that, finally, the Inferno God’s forces were making their move. Guardian Nova in hand, she ran at them. She held up her sword, placing her palm against the flat of the blade.

The flames enveloped her, turning blue and once more enveloping her in warmth.

She felt the tears on her cheeks sizzle away, but she didn’t burn. She stared at the final envoy of the Inferno God and his army. Arta and his titanslayers.

She heard that all too familiar giggle. She lifted her sword up, the flames flying up into the skies.

None of the Chosen would die.

She wouldn’t die.

She would save everyone.

She didn’t care if it was impossible.

She glanced back at those who had come to save her and smiled.

Because even if it was impossible for her, it wouldn’t be impossible for them. She wondered for a moment how things might have turned out had the Hero, just once, actually asked for help in those final battles. If he hadn’t believed it was all his responsibility.

Joan supposed she was lucky. This time she’d had people who could ask for help for her.