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

Joan nestled under the blanket, barely suppressing the urge to sigh. They were being over protective, she knew. While her leg would have a really nasty scar after it healed, it wasn't like she was going to be crippled.

Though, had Bauteut not been there to quickly tend to the wound or Penthe not arrived when she did, things might have been different. But she hadn't even passed out from the blood loss this time, so as things went she felt it was an improvement.

Alas, Qakog was now beating himself up over it and was outside doing underwater boat lifts or something, she couldn't remember what it was but it had sounded ridiculous. It wasn't like he could be expected to get up and come rescue her whenever a random demon snuck into her room to assassinate her. If she was lucky, she wouldn't ever NEED a rescue from that again! It happened so much less now.

What bewildered her the most, however, was Penthe. She didn't think the woman liked her at all, in fact she would have sworn she barely tolerated her. Yet, for some reason she seemed concerned about her. She'd been in the room for most of the time that Bauteut was tending to her wounds and even now she was just leaning on the wall, her arms crossed. Penthe was so still that she wondered if the woman could sleep standing up in that armor.

"So, ummm, can I ask you a question?" Joan asked softly.

Penthe gave a soft sigh before shaking her head. "I know what you're thinking and the answer is no. The long term effects are damaging, you're too young."

"Wait, what do you think I was going to ask?" Joan asked.

"If I had some way to accelerate your healing," Penthe said, her voice echoing out of the helm. "Not until you're much older. Your healer's abilities are more than adequate and don't have as many long term consequences."

"Geez, that was almost a compliment," Bauteut said in a dry, amused tone. "After spending so much time with Korgron I can feel my heart all aflutter."

"That's not what I meant," Penthe said. "I merely mean that she is still a child."

"And it stunts her growth," Bauteut said. "I've talked with her about it. Don't worry, she'll find new and inventive ways to almost die before you know it. She always does."

"Not what I was going to ask," Joan said, her cheeks burning. "I mean, I would have if I'd known you had something that could, but fine. I wanted to ask something about the Fates."

Penthe was quiet for a few moments before giving a small nod. "Carry on. What do you want to know?"

"Can they give someone a nightmare?" Joan asked softly.

"What?" Penthe asked.

"Can they give someone nightmares?" Joan asked. "Right before this attack happened, I had a nightmare. And it was terrible. I've heard of people getting visions of the future from the Fates, but I didn't--"

"I'll stop you there," Penthe said quickly. "Yes, they can. But… visions, like that? Of the future? Those are rare. Incredibly. Seers are, as far as I know, not easy for the Fates to connect with. Especially for someone like you who is already so tightly bound to them as it is."

"So… my nightmare, right before…?"

"It is possible the Fates were behind it," Penthe said. "But I doubt it. You've said it yourself. The world is no longer in danger, the Inferno God is dead. They would have no reason to interfere in your affairs."

"What if it was important?" Joan asked softly. "What if they needed to be sure I didn't die from the demon? Or what if it was an omen that--"

"As amusing as it is, watching you jump to conclusions in such a manner," Penthe said coldly. "The fact is that the world is filled with coincidences. You may have picked up on the fact there was danger near and your dreaming self took that as reason enough to create a nightmare."

"Picked up on danger?" Joan asked with a snort. "From inside my room?"

"At which point you opened your window and let it in," Bauteut said. "That does sound like you."

Joan's face went bright red and she sheepishly lowered her eyes. "Well, admittedly that does sound like me. But I wasn't even sure it was… that… I didn't even hear them until they were climbing up the building."

"In the end, it's also likely just coincidence," Penthe said. "This is hardly the first assassin who has come to try and kill Chase. You were just unfortunate enough to have a nightmare before it happened. What was the nightmare about?"

"… Fire," Joan said softly. "The Inferno God… it was…"

"The Inferno God is dead," Penthe said softly. Her voice might have almost been comforting, if not for the way it was reverberating from within her helmet. "He can't hurt you."

"I know," Joan said softly. "But I still…"

Penthe sighed before glancing to Bauteut. "Can you give us a moment?"

"Promise not to try to kill her?" Bauteut said.

"I vow," Penthe said.

Bauteut nodded before glancing over to Joan. "Stay in bed. The stitches need time to work, I don't want that wound re-opening."

"I vow," Joan said in an almost perfect imitation of Penthe's tone, a small grin on her lips.

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Bauteut smiled and rolled her eyes before walking out the door.

Once the two were alone Penthe walked over and sat besides her. "Do you have that nightmare often?"

"No," Joan said quickly before pausing. "Well… not anymore. I mean, I used to. But I haven't in a while now."

"And before?" Penthe asked.

"I… used to have it, now and again," Joan said softly. "Fire, mostly. Screaming. People in fear. Melting."

"The Inferno God was a terrible monster," Penthe said. "One of the Hungry One's most powerful progeny. Do you remember when we first faced it?"

"We? First?" Joan asked.

"No," Penthe said. "That's… not how yours… worked, is it? You remember things, but… well…"

"I only remember this life," Joan said softly. "You, well. You remember… things that…"

"I remember all our battles," Penthe said. "But only our successes. Were I to remember every failure, I imagine I would have gone mad, long ago. Even with a mind and form designed for it. Even before the Hungry One's machinations to tamper with my memories."

"How many fights have there been?" Joan asked.

"It's hard to say," Penthe said softly. "Countless. It… does little good to focus on them. To try and remember every fight I have ever been in. It's usually better to focus on one task, and information connected to that, when going into the next life."

"Like trying to kill me?" Joan offered.

"That was the information I took, yes," Penthe said. "Amongst other things. It was a long, arduous task. Surprising, really. I would have imagined someone who tried to die as often as the Chosen tell me you do would be easy to kill."

Joan gave a shrug. "What can I say? I'm stubborn. I get that from a lot of people. And the people trying to keep me alive are just as stubborn. Will it happen again?"

"Will what?" Penthe asked.

"My memories. On my next life, will I remember things? Everything?" Joan asked.

Penthe was silent then. It was times like this Joan really wished she could see the face behind that helmet. The woman gave almost no sign as to what she was thinking.

"You can tell me," Joan said softly.

"I don't know," Penthe said softly. "Perhaps. Or maybe you'll… remember nothing. Maybe you'll just be a normal girl. Or perhaps you will be tied to the Chosen now. And you will remember every failure they have in that life. Or maybe there are no more second chances. I cannot say."

"Yeah, I had a feeling that might be the answer," Joan said softly.

"At least in the next life I won't try to kill you," Penthe said softly. "I'm… surprised you trust me enough to tell me these details. I did try to kill you. Repeatedly."

Joan gave a shrug. "If I held a grudge over every time someone tried to kill me I'd be holding all the grudges forever. Especially against me. Life's too short. Or too long. Both? It's… both. Besides, you don't want to kill me any more than the average person now."

"And you make jokes about it," Penthe said. "I see why the Chosen are so protective."

"How much have they threatened you if you hurt me?" Joan asked.

"No more than the average person," Penthe said, with just a hint of amusement to her tone. "If you are reborn, it will be easier. There are some things I should tell you."

"Ohhhhh!" Joan said excitedly, sitting up a bit straighter and cringing when pain shot through her leg. "Ow ow owie. Sorry. Got excited. New life tips?"

Penthe sighed and shook her head. "Focus on the task at hand. Don't let yourself get caught up on where you failed. It's easy to get… lost in that. To lose focus, because you're too focused on what you lost. Also… live your life. And accept it."

"Accept it?" Joan asked. "What do you mean?"

"Your past lives are… just that. The past. They were a part of you, once. But that is all. Your past. Do not… let yourself focus only on what you lost. Focus on what is new. Accept you are a new person. Can be a different person. Family… friends… they help with that. So much. Forming connections. Forming a life. They matter and can help ground you."

"Like your sister?" Joan asked.

While she expected a reaction, the shudder that went through Penthe was far beyond what she expected.

"Sorry!" Joan said quickly. "Touchy subject?"

"Yes," Penthe said. "No. Maybe. It's… it's a difficult subject. But yes. My… sister is one such connection. Those matter. They help ground you in the now, rather than the past."

"I don't think that'll work for me," Joan said softly. "No real family. Except the Chosen, but they were kind of… they're as much a part of those other lives as they are this one."

"Bauteut? Qakog?" Penthe asked.

"Bauteut is new," Joan said softly. "In a lot of ways, the all are, I suppose. Or maybe I'm just a new me. I ran into my… my family. The family I had. From… before. Did you… how did you do that?"

"Do what?" Penthe asked.

"You killed not just the Hero, but the knowledge of his family. Of who he could have been," Joan said softly.

"I erased all traces of the Hero's existence, including his home," Penthe said softly. "There were… consequences to this, of course. But at the time, I believed it was right. For what it is worth? I am sorry."

"I met the Hero's mother," Joan said softly. "I think… she was grateful to you. She didn't want to be the Hero's mother. She didn't want to be anyone's mother. So I don't think you need to worry about me ever trying to form that connection. I think I like my current family more, at least they want me. You ummmm… you never…"

"Yes?" Penthe asked.

"The family I have now. I mean, the one I was born to," Joan said, struggling to find the right words. "My… actual mom and dad. You didn't… did you?"

"No," Penthe said, her voice curt. "Until we met in the Demon Lands I thought the Hero was gone. I had… I never would have suspected you could be… no. I wouldn't worry about them for now. I'm certain you'll find them, one day. For now, you should get some rest. We can talk more later. Children like you need their rest."

"As if you have ever gotten enough sleep," Joan said, sticking her tongue out at her. "I've seen what you look like under that armor."

"And you best be careful," Penthe said. "Lest you end up looking just as haggard."

"Will I at least have cool armor?" Joan asked.

Penthe rolled her whole head before turning to leave, the sounds of annoyed muttering coming from her helmet. Still, Joan couldn't help but smile. As their relationship went, that was actually pretty friendly. She suspected Penthe was still hiding things from her, but then it was Penthe. She was always hiding something or another.