How can I save the world if I'm no longer the hero?

Joan regained consciousness in a manner she hadn't in quite a while. Painfully. She felt as if she'd been run over with a wagon pulled by a herd of burdensharers. A low hiss of pain escaped her lips before she, grudgingly, opened her eyes.

She was in the dark, laying on a bed. An incredibly soft bed, actually. It was--

Suddenly there was light and she let out a shriek, covering her eyes with both hands and rolling away from it.

"Easy, easy, don't move," Bauteut said in a soft, soothing tone. "The fact you feel good enough to roll around is a good sign, though. Joan?"

"T-too bright," Joan said softly, her hands on her eyes. She felt hands pulling her, gently, onto her back and then tugged at her arms. She grudgingly let her hands get pulled away and then looked up, blearily, at an exhausted looking Bauteut. "Sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Bauteut said, her voice gentle and soft. The light, at least, was far dimmer now. A small little light orb hovering overhead. "How, uhhhh, do you feel?"

"Terrible," Joan said. "I hope I don't look as bad as I feel."

Bauteut cringed and quickly turned away, kneeling down to grab a washcloth before leaning forward, gently wiping it over her face. "You're a bit of a mess, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

"How long was I out?" Joan asked.

"Quite a while," Bauteut said, still gently wiping the sweat off her brow. "What hurts?"

"Everything," Joan said. "I ache all over. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, now," Bauteut said as she continued to wash her face.

Joan just blinked a few times before glancing around the room. The room itself was sparse, but nice. There was an empty bookshelf, another small bed and the chair Bauteut was sitting in. There were windows, but they were completely covered up so no light could get in. "Where are we?"

"Seasrest," Bauteut said. "The mayor's manor. Considering your condition, we felt it was best to get you somewhere… out of sight and away from too much noise."

Joan nodded, though she felt another wave of unease. Her stomach was tied in so many knots she thought she might throw up and her stomach was still aching. She reached down a hand and stroked over where she felt that blade pierce her.

She felt something like metal on her skin. She froze for a moment before looking down, lifting up her tunic to see.

"Joan, don't—" Bauteut tried, but it was too late.

Now she definitely felt like she was going to throw up. Her arm looked like it was almost nothing but bone, the skin practically hanging off it. And she could see where the wound in her torso was. It was closed, at least. But rather than a scar, it looked like she had silver covering the wound itself. "W-what? What is that?"

"Joan, please," Bauteut said in a soft, soothing tone that did little to help her calm down. "You are still recovering. You—"

"How long was I unconscious?" Joan asked. "How did you get me here? What happened to those people? Where is everyone?"

"Joan," Bauteut said, reaching up to gently cup her cheeks. "I need you to calm down. Please. I'll tell you, but you need to calm down."

Joan felt like anything BUT calming down, but she at least tried, taking a slow, deep breath. "Okay. I'm calm. But where is everyone? Penthe? Chase? Qakog? Breeze? That undead guy?"

"Penthe stayed behind to try and finish the mission," Bauteut said. "That 'undead guy' and Qakog went with her, though he honestly would have preferred to stay with you. Chase is in the city, he checks in a few times every day, but he doesn't like coming here. Breeze is with him."

"So, what, it's been… how many days?" Joan asked nervously, her eyes going back to her arms. They looked so bony. Like she hadn't eaten in months.

"Joan, you were really hurt," Bauteut said softly.

"I get hurt all the time," Joan said. "That doesn't—"

"Not like this," Bauteut said. "There's always been a Chosen or a master healer by your side. Someone… a lot stronger than me."

"You did fine," Joan said sheepishly. "It was my own fault. Well, mostly. I really need to talk with Chase and Korgron about that necklace. It doesn't do me any good to teleport me away from 'danger' if it teleports me when I don't need it, then doesn't do it when I do need it."

"I didn't do fine!" Bauteut snapped, her hands yanking back from Joan. "I couldn't even begin to fix… that!"

"What?" Joan asked. "I'm alive, aren't I? So what's—"

"You died," Bauteut said softly. "You died and there was nothing I could do. I tried so, so hard, but I couldn't… I…"

"What?" Joan asked before, slowly, she looked down at her arms again. "Wait… am I an undead?"

"No," Bauteut said softly. "But… you're not… I'm not quite sure what Penthe did. She just… she pulled this… stuff. And poured it into the wound. I wasn't sure it was going to work, but then it kind of did. I was able to help you and… but…"

Joan stroked a finger over the wound. It felt like there was metal there, straight through. Worse, it kind of hurt. She thought about how miserable and boney Penthe looked without her armor. Was this why? Had she survived other wounds that should have been fatal? What were the consequences of this going to be?

"I-I'm sorry," Bauteut said softly, the tears welling up in her eyes. "I-I tried, but I couldn't… I couldn't f-fix you. I tried so hard but I'm not good enough. I thought I could do this but I… I…"

Joan looked up at Bauteut and then, as gently as she could, she reached forward and she hugged her. It was awkward and uncomfortable, with her having to lean partially off the bed to do it. "It's not your fault."

"I was supposed t-to protect you from this," Bauteut whispered, wrapping her arms around her. "Y-you died. I-I couldn't… I couldn't heal you. If Myrin or Korgron or Queen Emeline had been there, you'd have been fine. Instead, you… you died. I couldn't save you. I couldn't do anything. I… I…"

Joan could feel the warm tears of her friend dripping down on her back. Despite herself, it made her stomach twist into even more knots. "I don't blame you. It's not your fault. I swear. I messed up, I didn't realize there was a… a…" She frowned, blinking a few times. "I was… stabbed, right?"

"Yes," Bauteut said softly. "Don't you remember?"

"Not really," Joan said softly. "It's all kind of a blur. I kind of remember… was the Nameless One there?"

"What? No, why would they?" Bauteut asked. "The archfey?"

"I swear I remember being in a… cave? With them? And on the island? At like the… same time? Ugh, just thinking about it makes my head hurt," Joan said softly. "But… I think it was important."

"You were stabbed from behind," Bauteut said gently. "On the island. Saving… people. Just like you always try to do. But this time you…"

"I'm okay now, aren't I?" Joan asked. "How long was I out for? A few days? A—"

"Weeks," Bauteut said, shaking her head.

Joan blinked a few times and slowly pulled back from Bauteut, who let her. She stared up at her friend. "I've been unconscious for weeks?"

"Yes," Bauteut said.

"What about Penthe? Qakog?" Joan asked.

"I don't know," Bauteut said. "We haven't heard from them since."

Joan struggled, desperately, to suppress the moment of panic. Were they okay? Had they gotten hurt? Worse? Had they died? Had they run off, on their own, in order to--

"Joan," Bauteut said quickly, cupping her cheeks. "Please, don't. Penthe is fine. She's one of the most dangerous people we know and Qakog, believe it or not, is quite capable. I'm sure they'll be back before you know it."

Joan gave a small nod, though it did little to calm her. There was no telling what kind of situation Penthe was in now. But there was also no way for her to help either of them like this. "What about the people we saved? They—"

"Chase got all of us off the island," Bauteut said. "He's been helping them, but my focus has been on you. He… apparently knows quite a few people."

"And yet so few know him," Joan said before she could stop herself. "So… they're okay, though? All of them?"

"Yes," Bauteut said, staring down at her. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," Joan said softly. "Is that normal?"

"You've been unconscious for a long, long time," Bauteut said softly. "By all accounts you should be dead, but you're not. So I couldn't say. Frankly, I think we should take you to Myrin now that you're feeling better, if anyone could—"

"No," Joan said quickly. "Not until Penthe gets back. If she needs us, she—" She stopped. "Oh, duh, the Silver Beetle, I can just—"

"Penthe has it," Bauteut said.

Joan blinked a few more times. "What do you mean she has it? I—"

"When she left, she took it with her," Bauteut said.

"What? HOW? I had it with my—" Joan stopped and felt her anger grow. Was Penthe going through her things? When? She couldn't just TAKE her things! "She stole it!"

"I guess she did," Bauteut said softly. "Do… you remember anything she said to you, while you were… dying?"

"Huh?" Joan asked, shaking her head. "I'll be honest, I don't really remember much of anything. There was a necromancer? And the Nameless One was there? Why?"

Bauteut took a slow, deep breath. Then, gently, she motioned for her to lay down. "There's… something else she said. Something I think you'd want to hear. But… I need you to promise me you won't run off. You're still hurt, still need rest. You'll… you just… please. Promise me."

"What?" Joan asked. "Come on, I'm—"

"Joan!" Bauteut snapped before reaching out, gripping her shoulders. "Please. PLEASE! I need you to promise me. I can't…" She stopped before pulling back, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing. "Just, please. Promise me you won't do anything reckless. You'll let me, you'll let us, help you."

"I… I promise," Joan said softly, staring at her. "What's wrong?"

"I know how much you hate us keeping things from you," Bauteut said softly. "And I'd really like to tell you once you're stronger and Penthe returns, but I don't want you remembering and then doing something reckless. So… just remember we're all here for you, okay?"

"Okay?" Joan said softly. "What is it?"

"When you were dying, Penthe said she… she said she knew your parents," Bauteut said.

"What?" Joan asked. She stared for a few moments, blinking a few times. "Penthe knew my…"

But Penthe had said that. The memories flashed back. Penthe yelling about them as she was dying.

Then she'd been both on the island, with her sword. And in a cave, with the Nameless One.

She'd died. A hand moved over her stomach and stroked along that silver scar. "Huh."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Joan?" Bauteut asked. "Are you…?"

"I… I do not know," Joan said softly. "I am of three minds right now. Penthe isn't here and I don't know where she is, so I can't do that one. But I think there's… something else. I think you're right. I'm going to need a lot of rest."

Bauteut gave her a relieved smile. "Good. I'm sure she'll be back before long."

"I sure hope so," Joan said. "Because we're going to have to go meet with the Nameless One. Well, I am, at least."

"What?" Bauteut asked.

"I think… they've got some kind of hold on my soul or… something," Joan said softly. "At least, if I died and that's what that was. And it wasn't some kind of weird dying dream. But ummmmm…"

"You want to go and find an archfey over a dying dream?" Bauteut asked.

"Possibly? They have a soft spot for me, I think," Joan said softly. "And they think I'm predictable. So they're probably expecting me to be there soon. And if they are…"

Bauteut gave a light groan before resting her face in both hands. "And here I believed you were taking all of this well. How foolish of me."

"Sorry," Joan said sheepishly. "For what it's worth, I…"

"Yes?" Bauteut asked.

"I've got nothing," Joan said gently before collapsing back on her bed. "Shouldn't I be hungry?"

"I'll get you some broth," Bauteut said. "You're not going to want to eat anything very… solid, for a while."

Joan nodded. It seemed like it was going to be back to her favorite past times. Healing and dealing with fae she wasn't allowed to stab. Yaaaaaay.

------

Joan stared at her reflection and truly did believe it now. She had died. She looked like a zombie.

Her skin was practically hanging off her, her eyes were sunken and she was so pale. Her bones looked like they were one bad turn from popping out and even standing up had felt so exhausting that she just wanted to collapse on her bed again.

Worse, she felt miserable. She constantly felt like she was going to throw up and she ached all over.

Still, she was alive, so she figured that was good. While Bauteut having to help dress her was less than pleasant, it was hardly the first time someone had to take care of her after she almost died so she was almost used to it. Not quite used to it, but almost.

"Joan?" Bauteut's voice came from the other side of the door. "Chase is here to see you. Are you feeling up for visitors?"

"Sure," Joan mumbled. The door opened and Bauteut froze, staring at her. She could practically hear the lecture coming. 'You shouldn't be walking around', 'what if you fell', 'you should have called me'. Instead, Bauteut just sighed and shook her head before walking towards her.

"Would you like some help back to bed?" Bauteut asked.

"Yes," Joan said before reaching out a hand to grip Bauteut's arm and let the other girl help steer her towards the bed. "I hate this part of the recovery."

"I do too," Bauteut said softly. "It just takes time and patience. You know, you're already doing better than most in your position."

"Having a healing mage to keep an eye on me all day helps with that," Joan said softly. "Sorry I'm such a difficult patient."

"It's fine, I'm used to it and kind of expect it by now," Bauteut said with a small smile before, delicately, sliding her into the bed. To her relief, she even helped her get under the covers.

"You really do kind of remind one of a mouse like that," Chase said from the doorway. "Feeling any better?"

Joan glared at him, alas, he only smiled back at her. Any threats she could have made in regards to his comment were unlikely to be even a little intimidating and they both knew it. "I'm awake, so that counts, right?"

"It's a step in the right direction," Chase said before walking over to sit on the edge of her bed. "It's good to see you're able to walk. But please be careful."

"I don't really know how, but I'll try," Joan said sheepishly. "About being careful…"

"Bauteut already told me," Chase said, rolling his eyes. "Apparently you're intending to meet with an archfey?"

"Well, I don't actually know if they're entirely an archfey," Joan said. "I think…" She trailed off and closed her eyes. Why was even talking exhausting? She leaned to the side, resting on Bauteut before giving a light grunt.

"What? What's this? Is she okay?" Chase asked, a small hint of panic in his voice.

"She's tired," Bauteut said. "She's still recovering, it's okay. Just rest, Joan. But yes, she wants to meet with the Nameless One, again."

"Is that wise?" Chase asked. "I've met one or two archfey, but I've never met this one. The most I've heard is a few whispers, but they tend to be quite… reclusive. How do you even know how to contact them?"

Joan just gave a light grunt in response.

"She doesn't," Bauteut said before she began to gently pet her hair. "But she'll probably find a way."

Joan gave a double grunt.

"I think that's agreeing with me," Bauteut said.

Joan gave a long grunt.

"… Or that's agreeing with me?" Bauteut said.

"Now she's more like a half-drowned piglet," Chase said.

Joan gave an angry grunt.

"Hey, watch that tone young lady," Bauteut said in a teasing tone of her own. "But I think we'll need to wait until she's recovered a bit first. Like this I don't think she could even make it outside the door. It's going to take a bit before she can even keep down solid food."

Chase gave a soft sigh before nodding. "I understand. This place always makes me feel uncomfortable too."

"She's not had anything solid to eat in weeks," Bauteut said, shaking her head. "It's going to take time. Even trying to get her to drink broth would have been dangerous without magic."

"I still think staying in the barracks was fine," Chase said softly.

"They have more limited space," Bauteut said, her voice turning curt. "Are we really going to have this discussion again?"

"Mom, dad, quit fighting," Joan whined.

Both of them went quiet and stared at her.

"That is so very uncomfortable to hear you call me that," Bauteut mumbled.

"Then stop fighting…" Joan mumbled.

"We're not fighting, we're discussing," Bauteut said.

"Arguing," Chase said.

"Chase," Bauteut said in a curt tone.

"You know, she's not altogether wrong," Chase said, flashing a grin towards them. "When it comes to her, you always are quite protective. Very few people would yell at the Chosen as often as you do."

"Well, you're just the Chosen," Bauteut said with a light harumph. "All you need to do is save the world against impossible dangers. I'm Joan's healer, it's my job to make sure she doesn't get herself killed."

Chase gave a light snort. "Ah, I see. I guess your task is a little more difficult."

"You both suck," Joan grumbled.

"Did you want us to go?" Bauteut asked, smiling down at her and stopping her petting.

"Please stay," Joan whispered softly, her cheeks going a little red. "I like people who suck…"

Chase gave a soft sigh before nodding and reaching out, gently giving her a pat on the head. "I'll stay for a little bit, little mouse. Breeze is waiting for me, though, so I can't stay forever. I have a lot of people I need to help."

"I could move to the barracks," Joan mumbled groggily.

"I don't spend much time there, either," Chase said, shaking his head. "Stay here. Bauteut is probably right, you'll be better here. I'll visit when I can, little mouse."

Joan nodded, closing her eyes. It was nice having both of them here. She didn't know how long he stayed with her, because it wasn't long before consciousness faded and she drifted back to sleep.

------

The days moved by slowly, but persistently. Within a few days Joan was able to keep down a little bit of bread with her broth, though the unease in her stomach refused to fade. The silver part on her torso was also getting smaller, though she didn't know if that was a good sign or not. She hoped Penthe would return soon, because she had so many questions for her.

Like how Penthe knew who her parents were. If she knew how to contact the Nameless One. Was Dixon going to try and stab her. And, admittedly, a small part of her was looking forward to Qakog being back. She was sure he'd have some amazing stories to tell her.

But being patient was never her strong suit.

She held out her hand and considered summoning her sword again. However, her mind flashed back to the fight. Being stabbed, Bauteut trying desperately to heal her through the armor.

Joan let her hand fall to her side. Maybe she should wait until she was a little stronger. She didn't want to--

A light knock at the door made her jump. "Yes?" she called out.

A moment later the door opened. For a moment she felt annoyance, until she saw it was Wulfwynn. She was still a little annoyed that the woman hadn't announced herself, but considering it was her manor she couldn't be too angry at her for just coming in. Even moreso when she saw the woman had a bowl held in both hands. Didn't she have servants for that?

Joan instinctively rubbed the ring on her finger. While she seriously doubted the mayor would try to poison her, she couldn't help feeling a little nervous as the woman placed the bowl of broth down on the small table by the bed.

"Is it okay for me to leave it here?" Wulfwynn asked. "I was told you're able to feed yourself now?"

"So long as I eat slowly," Joan said, eyeing it.

"Wonderful," Wulfwynn said before turning to face her. "I am dreadfully sorry I haven't been able to make time to meet with you since your arrival here, Joan. I've been meaning to pay you a visit since you awoke, but there is always so much to do. Please forgive my inability to be a proper host."

Relief washed over Joan and she gave a small nod. "Oh, um, that's quite alright. It really have been quite nice. The—"

"Is the bed to your liking?" Wulfwynn asked. "I do hope the light hasn't caused you any issues, I tried to ensure they had the windows properly covered to ensure you had enough darkness and silence to rest, but I know that light can still end up sneaking through them."

Joan glanced towards the windows. Honestly, she felt the room could use a bit of light. "Actually," she said softly. "I'd like it if they could be uncovered. Some light would—"

"I'll have it done immediately," Wulfwynn said with a small, gentle smile. "Please, if you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask. It's not every day one is allowed to host a daughter of the Chosen. I want you to feel free to treat this house as your own, whatever you would like."

"Uh… huh?" Joan said, blinking blearily.

"If you would—" Wulfwynn started, only to get cut off herself when there was a knock on the door.

A man's head poked in a moment later. "Mayor? The candler arrived?"

Wulfwynn gave an exhausted sigh and, for a moment, she seemed to shrink. The same kind of exhausted sigh Joan had given herself more than a few times. The woman then stood up straight and nodded. "Right, work calls. I do hope you'll enjoy your stay, Joan," she called back before heading towards the door.

"Thank y—" Joan started, but the door closed before she could finish saying it. She gave a small sigh before reaching out and picking up the spoon and taking a small sip of the broth. It tasted good, at least. No poison, either. Her ring didn't seem to be activating at least.

------

Joan gently nibbled on the hot pie, taking small bites out of it.

"How do you feel?" Bauteut asked.

"Overly pampered and babied," Joan said. "Like you're on the verge of trying to swaddle be again."

"Nonsense," Bauteut said. "I have no one here to carry you if I did."

Joan just gave her a dirty look.

"But, truly, how do you feel?" Bauteut asked.

"Better than I did," Joan said. "Stomach is still uneasy, but nothing is coming up so that's a good sign. So ummmm… I guess… there's one thing to do now, right?"

"You don't need to do this," Bauteut said quickly. "It's quite a distance, and there's no telling how much of a drain it will have on you."

Joan shook her head. "The distance isn't what concerns me. Just… I'm just worried, is all. I know I need to be able to do it."

"I don't see why you 'need' to," Chase said softly while leaning against the wall. "That armor almost killed you."

"It has also saved me plenty of times," Joan said. "I'm very… human, you know? Lots of bits that are easily pierced and torn apart."

"I still don't like it," Chase said, his arms crossed while he glared across the room. "But, if it makes you feel safer, go ahead."

Joan nodded and then held out her hand. She didn't know if it really made her feel safer, though. But if she was going to meet with the Nameless One, then the last thing she desired was to go to him unarmed and unsure of herself. She called her sword to her hand.

The world always seemed to darken when her armor appeared around her and her sword appeared in her hand. She held her breath, waiting for that familiar darkness.

But nothing happened.

"What's wrong?" Chase asked before pushing off the wall.

"It's not coming," Joan said. "It's not listening."

"That's not a good sign, is it?" Bauteut asked.

"… I don't know," Joan said softly. It was definitely not good. But, despite that? The thing that concerned her the most was how a part of her felt like she expected it. As if it was natural.

It didn't feel like the times in her illusions where her sword just hadn't come because it didn't exist. There was nothing there, as if the bond didn't exist at all. There was usually some kind of echo of it that she could reach towards, something for her to remember it with. This time there was nothing.

"Maybe we can wait a few more days," Joan said softly. "I think… I'm going to need a bit more rest."

"As long as you need," Chase said before he walked forward and gave her a small little pat on the head. "Rest, little mouse."

"Uh huh," Joan said softly.

She didn't think rest would fix this, though. She wondered if the Nameless One was responsible for this, or if it was something else. Or maybe, if she was lucky, it was just another illusion. If it was, she'd have days to try and break free of it before she had to do something else dangerous. Well… if nothing else, she could make her survival someone else's problem again.

------

"Vanillamist!" Joan yelled once she shoved the door open to the shop.

"Oh gods," the woman behind the counter said, burying her face in both hands.

"Does this mean we'll find out what taking up Glowflies means?" Breeze whispered to Chase. Well, at least now Joan knew why the girl insisted on joining them.