NOVEL NEXT Book 10 chapter 16
Joan dashed towards the slaves, her eyes locked on the nearest guard. She couldn't help but think they were being quite sloppy, there were only eight of them. The rest of the pirates were further away, sitting by the fire. Then again, the people they had were bound in chains and didn't look like they had any hope, or will, to fight anymore.
It kind of reminded her of Imp.
Any remorse she might have had about what she did next vanished when she remembered that. Sometimes she struggled to know who was good and who was bad, but she could generally be pretty certain that anyone who tried to own another person was bad. Her sword appeared in her hand and her armor followed suit a moment later. The man turned to her, confusion on his face which quickly gave way to alarm. He brought his spear down at her, but her blade cleaved through it with ease and she leaped up, slashing through his neck in a single motion.
Unfortunately, she doubted the others would be quite so simple. She saw Qakog descending on one of the guards, his rapier out and already tearing the guard to pieces. Penthe tore through another with a single strike of her poleaxe, practically cleaving the guard in half. The only one she didn't see was Bauteut. Where was--
Wind shot by her ear a moment later and she turned back around in time to see an arrow go wildly off course and the person who had taken the shot at her now holding the two pieces of their freshly cleaved bow. Joan looked back to see Bauteut holding up her arm and pulling back once more on the magical string of the air bow.
The sound of an alarm horn filled the air and Joan cringed. Well, three were down, five to go and hopefully they were done before reinforcements arrived. She charged at the man with the broken bow as he flung it away and drew a whip. She activated her boots and was on him before he managed to even uncoil it, cutting it to pieces before pushing the blade towards his throat. "Surrender and you might—"
She didn't even get the chance to finish her sentence before she saw a flash of metal in his right hand. A flick of her hand and her sword pierced his neck.
To her surprise, that didn't stop him. Instead, his left hand reached up and gripped the blade of her sword and he plunged his right hand forward, the knife coming at her head. She ducked, the edge glancing off her helmet and sending sparks into the air. She yanked her blade back, slicing off a few fingers in the process, before swinging it around once more. She cast a quick spell as she did and yellow flame enveloped the blade and then the guard.
He didn't scream as he turned to ash in the flames, though Joan's heart was now pounding. Undead. He was--
Joan spun around in time to see the man she had beheaded putting his head back on. Well, that was… definitely a choice. "They're all undead!" Joan yelled. "Be careful!"
Penthe, at least, didn't seem to be struggling at all as she tore a second of the guards to pieces. Joan didn't know what that poleaxe was but she kind of wanted one. Qakog seemed to be holding his own, though a second guard had joined the first and while they were being torn apart, it didn't seem to slow them down much.
There was another crash as a second and then third ship hit the beach, the air filling with the sound of shattering wood.
Panic filled Joan when she saw one of the pirates charging at Bauteut. However, before they came close to her, the healer sent them flying with a powerful gust of wind. While a second tried to make a run at her, suddenly Breeze was between the two of them, leaping onto the pirate and driving a blade into their skull.
The sound of approaching feet reminded Joan that she should focus on her own fight before worrying about others. The guard she had beheaded was racing towards her now, one hand holding his head on while the other held a long, red dirk. From the other side, two more of the guards were running towards her. On the upside, Penthe had joined in with Qakog and Joan suspected they'd be there to help her soon.
Joan darted towards the beheaded guard, her flaming sword flashing through the air in a dazzling display, knocking the dirk away and sending it sailing through the air. She spun around the large figure, driving the blade across his back and causing the blue flames to envelop him. She then leaped into the air, giving him a solid kick with both feet and sending him stumbling forward into the other two, the flames illuminating their confused and jumbled pile. She landed on the ground rather hard, but quickly rolled back to her feet, readying herself for the next--
Joan was suddenly in the middle of the slaves, her sword still aflame and illuminating the startled, terrified faces around her. She quickly flicked it, the flames dispersing. "It's okay! We're here to save you, it's okay!" she said, holding a hand out and trying to calm them as they tried, desperately, to get away from her.
She could see herself where she had been moments ago, before the copy of her burst into water. It took her a moment to realize that she'd been hit by an arrow.
Really? The amulet had done that? Over an arrow? She felt a moment of annoyance. The arrow didn't even pierce the water copy of her left behind, she severely doubted it could have gotten through her armor. She needed to talk with them about adjusting how it worked. What it judged as 'deadly' didn't seem to function quite as--
Pain shot through Joan's torso and she let out a startled gasp. She looked down and saw a red blade sticking out through the front of her armor. Her left hand reached up and she gripped the blade before reversing her sword in her right hand, plunging it back. She was rewarded with a pained sound and then the pressure on the blade stopped. She heard someone behind her fall, but she couldn't focus on that.
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The blade was glowing red. It hurt. She could feel it. It was inside her body. It pierced her armor. She couldn't heal this. She needed Bauteut. She…
Joan's sword fell from her hand and she collapsed to the sand. The slaves surrounding her quickly moved away as best they could.
It hurt. Joan could vaguely feel something burning, but compared to the stabbing pain in her chest it was nothing.
"Joan? JOAN!" Penthe yelled, kneeling by her a moment later. "What is this-- BAUTEUT! Get over here!"
Joan was rolled over and stared, blearily, up at Penthe.
"What happened?" Bauteut asked, skidding to a stop by her. "What is this blade?!"
"I don't know," Penthe snapped. "There was a necromancer hiding with the slaves. By the time the bodies started to collapse, Joan was already like this."
"Help me get her out of her armor," Bauteut said. "I need to see the wound."
"Out of the armor?" Penthe asked. "Joan, you need to push the armor off."
Joan just stared up at them, struggling desperately to understand what they were saying. It was weird to her how, despite dying so many times, it could somehow always feel different. She could hear the words, but she couldn't understand any of them. It was like they were speaking in another language.
"Joan?" Penthe asked. "Joan, listen. I need you to take your armor off. Like I taught you. Envision your armor somewhere else. Falling around you. I need you to do this."
"I can't get through the armor," Bauteut said, her voice filled with panic. "Qakog! Get Chase!"
"Joan," Penthe said. "Please. Take your armor off. Like I showed you. I know you don't like to listen to anyone ever, but I need you to, just this once, listen to me. Take off your armor."
Joan stared up at them. It didn't hurt as much anymore. It felt cold, but not painful. Everything was getting dark. Why would she take off her armor if it was cold? Wasn't it better?
"Joan, please." Penthe begged. "Don't die, please don't die. The Chosen will kill me. Your parents will kill me. I promised them I'd keep you safe. Just take off your armor. Please. Please please. Take it off."
"What?" Bauteut asked. "Her parents? When did you—"
"FOCUS!" Penthe yelled. "Get her to understand, do SOMETHING you blasted healer!"
Joan's eyes couldn't open anymore and she felt like she was sinking. It didn't hurt at all anymore. It was like she… like she…
Her parents?
Joan let out a soft, gurgling gasp before, with a great deal more effort than she imagined possible, she managed to dismiss the armor from around herself. A moment later she felt a sharp pain in her torso.
Then everything went dark.
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Joan was kneeling on the beach, besides Bauteut and Penthe. They were kneeling over… her body? She looked down and saw her hands clasped around Guardian Nova. What? Why--
Joan gasped, kneeling in front of what looked like a strange shrine made of what looked like bone. She looked around in confusion, struggling to understand where she was. A cave. It was covered in weird runes, but she didn't know where they were from. But something about them was familiar, as if she'd seen them before.
Joan slowly got to her feet, somehow both on the beach and in the cave. It felt like she was at both places at the same time, both locations seeming to bleed into each other and disorient her more and more as she tried to walk. Was she dead? No. This wasn't dead. She'd died before. She--
There were more pirates. Joan could see them. Qakog was fighting, but he needed help. She tried to call out, but no words came out of her throat. She tried to run towards him--
And she slammed into the wall of the cave. She stumbled back, her sword falling to the ground on the beach. What was going on? What was happening to her?
"Truly you do create the most fascinating scenarios, don't you little Hero?" a familiar voice asked.
Joan slowly looked to the entrance of the cave and her heart stopped. Or, well, if it had already stopped now she truly felt it. The Nameless One stood there, an amused look on their face. Before she could move, they were behind her. A hand moved down to grip her arm.
Pain shot through her and it felt, for a moment, as if the her on the beach was fading away.
"It seems you have sold your soul twice over," the Nameless One said in an amused tone. "One could scarce believe it possible. But for one such as you, breaking the rules is almost second nature, isn't it?"
Joan tried to speak again, but all she could do was silently whine at the feeling of their hand on her arm, holding it up.
"I wonder what would happen were I to split you in two," the Nameless One asked. "Half your soul… no… that wouldn't do at all, now would it? I've always been far too greedy to settle for half. Just what is it that laid claim to the other half?"
Joan tried to pull her arm away and, to her surprise, they let go. She crumbled to her knees, struggling to get the world to make any kind of sense. She was on the beach but also in this cave. The Nameless One was here. How were they here? Were they on the beach? Or the cave?
Wait, she'd seen a cave like this before. It took her a few moments to realize the symbols drawn on the walls and floor were done in blood. The smell should have been awful, but there was none. This was the foulest kind of magic.
Then there was searing pain in her torso and her eyes opened. She was staring up at Bauteut, who had both hands over the wound. "Hold on, Joan, don't give up, please don't give up," Bauteut said. "Please, please don't give up."
Joan tried to say something, but her body refused to listen. Instead, the darkness claimed her a moment later and, this time, she didn't wake up in a cave or on the beach. There was only darkness.