Joan didnât know what she expected when she saw the elven keep off in the distance, but in the end it all seemed so normal. Well, for elves. The only sign that it was truly a âkeepâ was the fact that there was the hanging banner of the lord here. In this case, a light brown background with a blue circle in the middle.
Most people might have thought it had some grand symbolism.
Joan had, long ago as the Hero, learned that it was because the Chosen who it was founded in honor of was a huge fan of blueberries. Personally, she couldnât really find a flaw in that logic. There were a lot of people who enjoyed having great animals, monsters or demons on their banners. But there werenât a lot of emblems that had to do with enjoying blueberries. If it meant someone underestimated them and believed them a weak household because of it, more power to them. Granted, they wouldnât be entirely wrong. When sheâd met them as the Hero they had been in shambles. Hopefully that wouldnât happen for a while yet, if at all.
The keep wasnât like a human keep, more buildings woven into the trees themselves. She felt a growing sense of annoyance at her past selves for how often she had mistaken them for being so glorious, so breathtaking. Melding in with the forest itself, rather than cutting down the trees and making their homes from them. It was a magnificent display that seemed so amazing and special, but the underlying reason for it was so much more connected with the fae than she liked to admit.
They didnât weave the trees into their homes because they felt some great bond with them.
They wove the trees into their homes because they could and it was a grand display. No wonder sheâd used to enjoy being around them so much, they were just like the Hero. All grand displays without any actual substance or care behind them.
Joan shook her head and shoved those thoughts aside. Wow, she didnât know WHAT brought on that moment of negativity, but she really had to let it go.
âAre you okay?â Bauteut asked. âDid you figure out whatâs wrong?â
âNo,â Joan said. âItâs nothing, just some negative thoughts.â
âI see the banner,â Korgron said. âBut where are the elves? Shouldnât we see them by now?â
Joan blinked a few times and glanced towards her. âYou canât see them?â
âThereâs nothing there,â Bauteut said. âItâs just a big banner to the side of the street.â
âWhat?â Joan asked. âNo, itâs⦠oh. Right. I guess none of you have experience with this. Look at the trees.â
âTheyâre trees,â Bauteut said.
âI think I can make something out,â Zorn said. âMaybe? What, do they live in the trees themselves? Iâd always heard that elves were a bit eccentric, but I hadnât realized it was that weird.â
âYou live underground,â Joan said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. âIf anyone can understand being eccentric with where they call home, it should be you.â
âI donât see anything,â Korgron said. âJust trees and a banner.â
Joan couldnât help feeling annoyance washing over her. How could they NOT see it? It was there, clear as day. âLook on the right of the road. They are almost twice as tall as the other ones? You can actually see some of the elves now.â
âNone of the trees are standing out,â Bauteut said.
âI donât see what youâre talking about, lil missy,â Thalgren said. âEach tree looks about the same as the other.â
Joan opened her mouth to object, before she stopped and tugged on the reigns to stop her mount. She squinted a little bit and, sure enough, she could just make out a handful of the elves on the trees. She could also make out others coming towards them. It was the same as all the other times she had come this way. âTheyâre coming. Can none of you see that? Also, Korgron, youâre going to want to cloak up again.â
âWhy?â Korgron asked.
âI swear you all canât be this blind,â Joan said. âYou are the Chosen. Your vision should be like a dozen times better than mine.â
âThereâs nothing there,â Andreas said. âJoan, I donât know what youâre seeing, but there isnât.â
Joanâs annoyance only grew when she felt Bauteut reach out and tap her on the back. âIâm not seeing things. Itâs right there. The same place it always has been. Itâ Searle, shield us!â
Searle had only a moment to act, but mercifully he didnât waste time asking her. His shield was in his hand before the arrows were halfway from the trees and them. He managed to, just barely, envelop all of them in a dome of shielding light before the arrows could hit, causing them to bounce off harmlessly to the ground. She had to give them credit, though. She didnât even hear the arrows bounce off the shield.
âStill think Iâm making it up?â Joan asked.
âI canât see anything,â Korgron said. âWhere are they?â
âRight there,â Joan said again, motioning towards the archers. Now she knew something was definitely up. There was no possible way that the Chosen of all people couldnât see them now. So how come she could and they couldnât?
âI donât see anything but trees,â Korgron said before shaking her head. âFine. Iâll deal with this my way.â She leaped down from her saddle, the horse quickly pulling away from her the moment it was freed of its mount. Her crown began to glow a dark purple a moment before she flicked out her right hand. âIf I canât see them through the trees, then there will be no more trees.â
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âWAIT! KORGRON DONâT!â Joan yelled, reaching out try and grab the hand. But it was too late. The fire was already out, surging from Korgronâs hands.
Joan stared, her eyes wide with horror. It was a veritable tidal wave of flame, rising out from her hand and then surging forward towards the treeline. The flames of the Chosen.
Flames that could burn even a god. That could incinerate, obliterate all in their path. Flames of pure destruction. So many of them. They would rampage and spread, destroying everything. Not just their attackers, but the others in the forest. The innocent. The defenseless. Those who made their homes there. Those flames would devour all. How many would lose their lives from this attack alone?
It was too late to call it back, though. Joan and Korgronâs eyes met for just a moment and she could see the look of confidence quickly melting away from the demonâs face as she realized what she had just unleashed in her frustration. Time seemed to almost slow down and Joan couldnât help but turn her attention back to the flames. If only there was something she could do. Anything.
Then the flames stopped. Hitting a wall of some kind, they were scattered to the heavens. Their flames so powerful and widening that they burned away even the clouds, the sky coated in bright orange flames for a few moments before even they faded, disappearing entirely.
On the edge of the forest, Searle stood, his back to it and driven down to one knee, panting from exertion. The road in front of him was seared entirely black, covered in nothing more than dirt and ash now.
Joan stared at Searle, her mouth open. He couldnât do that. How had he done that? He was never that strong. Considering the power of that spell that Korgron had unleashed, she doubted even she as the Hero could have diverted it like that. Yet, he had.
âKorgron,â Andreas said, the first one to recover from the shock of what theyâd almost seen. âDonât ever do that again.â
âI didnât mean to. It wasnât supposed to be that strong,â Korgron said. âI was just--â
âIf we donât know where they are, weâll find them,â Andreas said. âDestroying everything isnât a proper response.â
âI was just, Iâ¦â Korgron said and, for the first time in a long time, Joan could see the demon looking unsure of herself. âIt wasnât supposed to be that strong.â
âWhat would have happened if Searle hadnât stopped it?â Bauteut asked.
âThereâd be nothing left but ash,â Joan said.
âThatâs not actually possible, is it?â Bauteut asked. âI mean, she just⦠she couldnâtâ¦â
âThose flames turned the sky itself orange,â Zorn said.
âBut Korgron couldnât just incinerate all of it, could she?â Bauteut asked.
âI didnât,â Korgron said. âIt wasnât that strong, I didnât unleash anything like that.â
âThe Chosen can eliminate entire armies when they need to,â Joan said. âThey wield power that nothing else could ever hope to match. The only thing that can truly stop them is another Chosen or something so far beyond this world itâs not recognizable.â
âIâm right here, you know,â Korgron said. âI wouldnât have destroyed the entire forest. Stop ignoring me!â
Joan didnât answer. Sheâd just received another reminder of just how powerful Korgron truly was, but how inexperienced. In that moment of frustration, with that spell, she likely would have incinerated the forest for miles. Every single elf here would have perished in a moment. At one time she would have been furious with Korgron for such a thing.
But Joan couldnât bring herself to believe that was Korgronâs intent for a moment. She had power beyond what anyone else could ever imagine, but she still lacked control. Finesse. One day should be capable of using a spell like that and only cutting away one or two trees, yet still illuminating the sky in her flames. That was still a while off, however. Now when the demon called on her great power, if she didnât control it, the destruction she could cause would be immense.
Joan felt that sudden alertness washing over her once more. Something else was still wrong. It didnât--
Then the trees began to fade away, melting into the air itself as if they never existed to begin with. The elves, bows and all, faded with them.
In their place was left a barren, bleak landscape. The ground covered in the melted remains of trees, rocks, dirt and everything and anything else that had been caught there.
Melted. Not burned. Not ashen.
Joan stared, her eyes wide with horror. In the center of the wasteland was the first envoy of the Inferno God. While in most cases it looked like little more than a small orb of flame, she knew it was so much more.
âThe Ever Devouring,â Joan said, her hands shaking. âItâs not⦠not possible. It canât be here. It canât. No. Itâs not possible. We stopped it. It canât. Please no. Please.â Tears began to fall down her face, refusing to stop despite her efforts to control herself.
âDemon Lord!â a voice range out. âTruly, a grand display.â
âJoan?â Bauteut asked before reaching out to grab her.
âStop it,â Joan said, the fear impossible to keep out of her voice.
âWhat?â Bauteut asked.
âChosen!â Joan screamed. âKILL IT! IT WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING! KILL IT BEFORE IT AWAKENS AGAIN!â
âChosen?â the voice called out once more and she found her eyes drawn, finally, to the source. At first, he looked just like any other elf.
Except for the strange, glowing red amulet around his neck. An amulet that she had seen around the Demon Lordâs neck many, many times.
âBauteut, Zorn, Joan, get out of here,â Andreas said before leaping down from his horse. âWeâll--â
A cry tore through the world itself, a scream that could only be emitted from something that couldnât, shouldnât, exist.
Joan watched with horror when the first of the envoys awoke once more, the flames of its body rising up and the heat radiating off it causing burns to start to form over their bodies.
âKorgron, get them out of here!â Andreas yelled.
Joan couldnât object. No, she couldnât even breath. The air was so hot it felt like it was searing her very lungs. Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. The world shifted as she was sent away, teleporting away. It only took a moment, but new ground was underfoot.
Joan, Zorn and Bauteut were somewhere new.
âWhat was that?â Bauteut asked softly. âWait, what? Why is my hairâ¦â
âThe Inferno God doesnât burn,â Joan said softly before lightly flicking a few strands of her hair, the tips now melted. âIt melts all.â
âThe Chosen can handle it, canât they?â Zorn asked.
Joan didnât answer.
For once, she didnât have an answer. Were they ready? Perhaps. Perhaps not. The Hero certainly hadnât been ready.