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

Joan let out a soft, gentle hiss when she stood up. Gingerly putting more weight on the stitched up leg, she braced herself bit by bit before finally taking a small step forward. To her surprise, it didn't hurt nearly as much as she thought it would.

"Just try walking around the room once or twice, okay?" Bauteut said. "If you feel any sharp pains, let me know."

"Of course," Joan said before slowly walking in a small, tight circle around the room. She glanced down at her leg. The bandages were still there and wrapped tightly over her thigh, no blood could be seen. It seemed they were holding. "It aches a lot, but it's nothing too bad. Should I try running?"

"No," Bauteut said quickly. "No running or leaping or jumping or fighting or any of that. You've still got to heal, its only been a few days since you were injured."

Joan gave a low groan before nodding. "I'm not going to have to go back to sleeping all day, am I?"

"No," Bauteut said with a small smile. "So long as you promise me you won't run off and pick a fight, you can even go out."

"Really?" Joan asked, giving her a suspicious look. "You trust me to do that?"

"Not in the slightest," Bauteut said without a hint of hesitation. "But I know if I confine you to bed rest you'll run off anyway and then you'll be running off and unsupervised. This way at least I know you'll try to be careful and when you get hurt, you'll at least tell me so I can take care of it."

"Awww, you know me," Joan said in a playful tone. "You're the best healer who isn't a Chosen a girl could ask for."

Bauteut rolled her eyes before getting to her feet. She held out her hand for Joan to take, who took it with a small blush. "Come on, let's go let everyone know you're okay. As okay as you tend to get, anyway. I know that it's probably frustrating. Compared to Myrin I am practically an apprentice. But healing takes time."

"Compared to Myrin every healer in the world might as well be an apprentice," Joan said, leaning against Bauteut as they walked. "It comes with being one of the most talented and powerful people in the world. Having access to the strength of the gods helps too, of course. I'd be an idiot to even try to compare you to one of the Chosen. Besides, lots of people would be overjoyed to have a healer dedicated to making sure they don't get themselves killed. I'm just grateful it's not annoying you too much. Speaking of me annoying you too much, how's Searle been?"

"Misses us," Bauteut said with a soft, sad sigh. "Worried about you, of course. Unsure what silly things you'll do next. Hopeful we'll be able to go and see him soon. Or he can come and join us on some grand adventure."

"Being separated from the Chosen is a common occurrence," Penthe's voice came from behind the two of them, making them both startle a little and turn around.

"How do you do that?" Bauteut asked, her voice high pitched and angry. "That armor should be far louder than that!"

"It is," Penthe said, not explaining any further. She then turned her head towards Joan. "You're cleared to walk?"

"Walking, no running, jumping, fighting or other reckless endeavors," Joan said quickly, her hand still tightly holding Bauteut's. "Look, I even have a dedicated healer to make sure I don't misbehave."

"Overworked, I imagine," Penthe said. "Chase isn't back yet."

Joan deflated a little bit, unable to keep herself from sulking just a little. "Where even is he? Why can't you tell me where he went?"

"Even I don't know," Penthe said.

"But you know why," Joan said.

Penthe didn't answer, which told her plenty.

"We should be out there helping him," Joan said bitterly.

"You can help him just fine from here," Penthe said.

"What, by healing?" Joan asked.

"No, with this," Penthe said before pulling out a small scroll. She held it out to her and she, nervously, took it. "You've been invited as a daughter of the Chosen."

"And this helps Chase how?" Joan asked.

"It's from the Mayor of Seasrest," Penthe said. "She could be a useful ally while here."

"Which one?" Joan asked.

"What do you mean which one?" Bauteut asked.

"Which mayor," Joan said. "There were like… eight that I can remember. The mayor here changes a lot."

"Wulfwynn," Penthe said. "From what I've heard, she's not particularly fond of…"

"Changelings?" Joan asked.

"Indeed," Penthe said. "She knows better than to try to actively block Chase in anything, but she hasn't been the most helpful. Perhaps you could try to… win her over."

Joan gave a light snort. "Really? Me? Diplomacy? Have you met me?"

"You are oddly endearing," Penthe said. "Perhaps Wulfwynn will feel the same."

"I can try," Joan said before sliding her other hand free from Bauteut's grip and unraveling the scroll. She then blinked a few times. "This is an invite for Hardwin."

"You are his heir," Penthe said. "In one way or another, the invite extends to you."

Joan sighed and rolled her eyes. She suspected she knew exactly what was going on here. Busywork. Send her off, keep her out of trouble. The mayor of Seasrest had some power, certainly. But no mayor of any city would get in the way of a Chosen. Rulers of countries knew better than to do that.

Then again, when she had been in the elven lands they'd stayed in Searle's way for far, far longer than was healthy. Korgron's fury had been fierce, if justified. At least to her. Even if it was just busywork, Joan supposed she could be useful. "Sounds like fun. Though I'm not sure she'll want to see me. Most people would have no idea who I even am."

"Yet an oddly large number of people do," Bauteut said in a teasing tone. "You do tend to leave an impression. How about we all go together? Perhaps even Ifrit and Francis would like to come with us."

"Promise not to go on any exciting adventures while I'm gone?" she asked Penthe.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"Where would I go?" Penthe asked.

"I can think of like… five different things you could go after without me," Joan said. "Sure, most of them need Chase, but not all of them. There's a whole bunch of--"

"Very well," Penthe said. "I won't be going anywhere new. I will be searching near the edges of the city, however. I'm still trying to find those elementals you mentioned."

"Yeah," Joan said softly. "Breeze could probably contact them, but until Chase gets back that's not really an option."

"He'll return before you know it," Penthe said before turning away.

"You do know if you go into the gate I'll know, right?" Joan asked.

"I am aware," Penthe said. "If I go into it, you'll be the first to know. But I do not, currently, have a need to traverse through the gates."

"You know, since we're the only two who can use them, we could use them to send messages to each other!" Joan said, excitement filling her voice. "Like, two quick time stops could mean danger, three could mean come back right now, four could mean--" She stopped in mid sentence, her cheeks going red. She realized Bauteut was staring at her and just grinning. "Y-yeah, it's… a silly idea, huh?"

"No, keep going, it's adorable," Bauteut said.

"It wouldn't work," Penthe said. "We'd have to be near a door to do such a thing. It can't be activated remotely. Trust me, if it could, things would be far easier."

"Right, I guess that's true," Joan said softly. "What about the staff I stole from that weird guy? Lord Venom?"

"It requires a lot of power to trigger its effect," Penthe said. "And it's in a more local area. But, yes, it could be technically used for such things. With difficulty."

"I'd actually been meaning to ask about that," Joan said. "How did that even work? I thought time magic like that was really hard?"

Penthe sighed and gave a shrug. "I don't know. I didn't create the staff. It's locked away now, anyway. Perhaps Korgron will be able to do something with it, once I see her again. For now? Why don't you focus on taking all of your friends to see the mayor. See what support you can earn from her." Penthe then walked past them, only giving a momentary glance as she did.

Joan sighed and shook her head. "She's hiding so many things from me, isn't she?"

"I don't know," Bauteut said, taking her hand and leading her away. "I think she's hiding things from all of us. Come on, let's go see if we can get Qakog to stop torturing himself long enough to go meet this mayor. Do you want to see if we can get something nice to wear?"

"Something nice to wear? Like what?"

"You are the child of a Chosen and heir to the Dusklam name. I'm sure we can find a cute dress or another to squeeze you into. One that you won't fight in," Bauteut said.

Joan gave her a slightly annoyed look. "Are you only going to dress me up just so you can be sure I can't get hurt?"

"Maybe," Bauteut said.

"You know, I think I have a pretty good record. Most people who go through what I go through are dead," Joan said proudly.

"Because you killed them," Bauteut said dryly. "Come on, we'll grab the others and then we can go. It'll be fun."

"If you say so," Joan said with a shrug. "Politics is rarely that."

"You'll do it with friends," Bauteut said.

"That'll make it a lot more fun," Joan, grudgingly, admitted.

------

"You can do it, kick his ass Qakog!" Joan yelled, lifting a fist into the air in cheer.

"I dedicate this victory to you, my bride-to-be," Qakog called back to her.

"I changed my mind, drive him into the dirt, Francis!" Joan yelled.

"Joan, be nice," Bauteut said, though she was smiling despite it.

"The scary thing is I am," Joan said, sticking her tongue out at her.

Qakog and Francis stood in the center of the sparring range, brandishing practice weapons and layers of padding. Of the two, Francis was older and taller, holding a few inches over his opponent. But Joan knew all too well how dangerous Qakog was. He was stronger, likely faster and almost certainly more experienced.

Qakog made the first move, his rapier suddenly plunging forward. To her surprise, Francis brought his sword up to deflect the blow, managing to move it past him and barely strike Qakog on the backside when he passed.

Maybe she was giving Qakog a bit too much credit. The demon had more practice, but he also tended to fight more legendary opponents. Demons, monsters, massive creatures. He was a bit too arrogant and quick to rush in, a trait she had used multiple times against him. He was always hungry for glory, it made him a bit sloppy.

Francis, on the other hand, was a bit more methodical. Slower, careful with his strikes. He seemed sluggish at first, but he was just biding his time. The moment that an opening presented itself, he dove on it. As viciously as she often did.

However, at the end of the day Qakog was far tougher than Francis. While he could get light strikes, he couldn't get a good, solid hit on the demon. And finally one of Qakog's blows connected. It slapped across Francis' chest so hard that it sent him stumbling back and crashing over the fencing with a low, pained groan. He laid sprawled out on the ground for a few long seconds before speaking up. "I… I yield."

Ifrit raced over to Francis' side a moment later, kneeling down by his side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Francis said sheepishly. "After all I said, I still didn't manage to win for you."

"I'm just happy you're not too hurt," Ifrit said before slowly helping him to his feet. "Please don't get yourself killed trying to impress me like that."

"But that's half the fun," Joan said, unable to keep the teasing out of her tone. "What's the point of fighting for someone else if you're not going to push yourself to the point you almost die?"

"Speaking of!" Qakog said, leveling his rapier at her. "I challenge you once again! This time I am certain I will earn your hand!"

Joan blinked a few times before glancing to Bauteut. "I… kind of deserved it that time, didn't I?"

"You did tempt fate quite heavily," Bauteut said with a delicate smile. "Perhaps you should be more wary of such things?"

"But tempting the fates is what I do best," Joan said with a soft whine.

"We know," Bauteut, Ifrit, Francis and even Qakog said in almost perfect unison, making Joan stare for a few seconds.

Joan opened her mouth to try and make some kind of comeback to that, but she had nothing. All she could do was make a low hmph before shaking her head. "Fine, I guess that's fair."

"Well, while you two do that, I'm going to go try and soothe my bruises," Francis said before slowly limping away, leaning on Ifrit.

"Oh, we're going to meet the mayor in a bit," Joan called after the pair. "Would you two like to come?"

"No," Francis called back, shaking his head.

"Boring," Joan said, rolling her eyes. "Bauteut, can you help me get the padding on?"

"Oh, not a chance," Bauteut said, her voice cold as ice. "You're still hurt, remember?"

"But it'd just be a little--"

"No," Bauteut said.

"Sorry, Qakog," Joan said sheepishly. "Next time?"

"Very well," Qakog said, bowing his head politely. "I will wait with breathless anticipation for your return of vigor so I can demonstrate all I have learned!"

"Don't think I'll hold back," Joan said with a light chuckle. "We're going to meet the mayor, want to come?"

Qakog gave a nod before frowning and then shaking his head. "No. I believe I shouldn't."

"Why?" Joan asked.

"I have heard that the ruler of this city is not… fond of demons," Qakog said, his tone a little cold. "I'd rather not cause your encounter to go poorly due to my presence."

Joan sighed and shook her head. "I mean, I'm just the daughter of a Chosen, she might not even meet with me. And frankly, if she gives me trouble because one of my friends is a demon, she's not worth meeting to begin with."

Qakog gave a small smile and nod. "Likely not, but I would still rather not interfere on your first meeting. However, if you require a champion to--"

"No!" Joan said quickly, shaking her head. "Nope, no fighting. Just meeting. But fine, maybe next time."