Book 6 Chapter 18

Joan’s eyes slowly opened. Sweet, she wasn’t dead. Actually, she felt pretty great. Tired, but great. Seemed it worked. She stretched out her arms before giving a light grunt. She felt pretty amazing, actually. Like she--

“It looks like you’ve finally woken up. Feeling better?” a voice said.

Joan whipped around and her heart nearly stopped.

Neia. The Neia she knew. The Chosen of the Bow. Maybe it was because she had searched for her for so long. Maybe it was because she no longer had the Hero’s abilities to resist charms. Maybe it was because of the way that soft, white robe seemed to mold to Neia’s body. Maybe it was all of the less than proper memories she had from being the Hero.

Or maybe it was because the closest thing to company she’d had for the last few months or years was a giant spider lich.

But she found her tongue stuck to the bottom of her mouth and she couldn’t speak. All she could do was blush.

“Joan? Was it? Are you okay?” Neia asked. She reached out and put a hand against her forehead and she felt like her heart might explode. “You seem okay.”

“Guh,” Joan said.

“Can you speak?” Neia asked.

“Buh?” Joan said.

“Oh dear. I was afraid of this,” Neia said with a soft sigh. “I thought I’d managed to repair the damage, but it can be quite difficult considering the location. Joan? My name is Myrin, I’m a healer. The Chosen came and--”

“Wait, Myrin?” Joan asked, finally snapping out of her shock. “You’re not Myrin, you’re Neia.”

The Chosen stared at her for a few moments. “You can speak.”

“Of course I can speak,” Joan said. “You’re not Myrin, though. You’re Neia the Radiant. Why are you calling yourself Myrin?”

“Because that’s my name?” Neia said before giving a soft sigh. “Ah. So it seems what they said was true. They were afraid this might happen. Perhaps I should gather the rest of the Chosen? But if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Yes!” Joan said quickly, before her cheeks turned red. “Err, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Neia said with a light chuckle. “You’re hardly the first teenager I’ve tended to who developed a bit of a crush. But you are a few decades too young for me, dear.”

Joan just felt the heat rise up in her face and she wished she could curl up under the blankets and hide forever. “Please don’t say it like that.”

“Dear, it’s perfectly fine,” Neia said. “You’re a young woman going through a quite exciting time in her life. You’re going to find yourself attracted to quite a few people over the next few years. In fact, you should be grateful. For elves this period can last for quite a bit longer.”

“I think death will find me soon,” Joan said, tugging her knees up and burying her face in them. “I hope it will.”

“Little Joan, it’s quite alright,” Neia said. “At your age--”

“How much have they told you about me?” Joan asked. “Who I am, what I am?”

“Err, quite a bit,” Neia said. “Though I think--”

“You have a birth mark shaped like a little duck on your left thigh,” Joan said.

Joan was greeted by silence then and when she finally looked up, she could see the Chosen standing with her mouth open, frozen in shock, her eyes wide and face probably almost as red as her own.

“So can we stop playing the ‘let’s see how embarrassed we can make Joan’ game?” Joan asked. “Because I assure you, you’ll likely win but I will make it miserable for you.”

“Point… point taken,” Neia said.

“So, Neia, they--”

“My name is Myrin,” Myrin said. “Please stop calling me Neia.”

“I… oh,” Joan said softly. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“I’ve been told,” Myrin said. “I don’t know why you’d imagine I was Neia, but she and I are entirely different people.”

“Yeah,” Joan said softly. “But you did know her, right?”

“Of course,” Myrin said. “I was the one who tended to Imp when the two first met.”

“Wait, what?” Joan asked, sitting up a bit taller. “Imp was hurt? When? What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s doing better,” Myrin said. “Not very talkative around anyone but Neia, but she’s fine. Not that I can blame her. About my questions?”

“Oh, um, right,” Joan said.

“How often do you use magic to enhance your body?” Myrin asked.

“Uhhhh… yes,” Joan said.

“That’s not an answer,” Myrin said.

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“All the time,” Joan said. “Daily? Whenever I fight. So almost daily.”

“I see, that explains a lot,” Myrin said. “You really should try and do that less, it’s stunting your growth.”

“Being dead will stunt it more,” Joan said. “Err, sorry, that came out a bit harsher than I meant it to.”

“I see,” Myrin said. “Defensive as well.”

“A bit,” Joan said, though she hated to admit it. “Also have a huge ego, a bit too self sacrificing and apparently I can be a bit too snarky at times. Oh, and my humor is pretty terrible, a giant spider told me.”

“I see,” Myrin said. “Do you know where you are?”

“My room,” Joan said. She then paused and looked around. She WAS in her room. She hadn’t even noticed, yet here she was. In her own room. It felt oddly comforting and nice. “How long was I out this time?”

“About two weeks,” Myrin said. “Though that’s not exactly the most concerning things. According to Lord Searle--”

“Wait, Searle’s a lord now?” Joan asked.

“He’s a Chosen, is he not?” Myrin asked. “But, as I was saying. According to Lord Searle you aged--”

“Aged years in a few seconds?” Joan asked. “It’s fine, it’s a weird time thing.”

Myrin blinked a few times and then looked her up and down. “I see. Err, fortunately, from what I can tell, it isn’t… well…”

“What?” Joan asked.

“I should have Bauteut tell you, she’s your personal healer after all. Her examination was far--”

“You’re like, a thousand times a better healer than Bauteut,” Joan said.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Myrin said quickly. “She is quite talented.”

“She doesn’t have the power of a god helping her,” Joan said. “It’s nothing against her. She’s great, has saved my life more times than I can count and, frankly, I owe her a ton. But you’re more capable than her. That’s just reality. Just tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Well, first of all,” Myrin said. “I don’t think you were aged years.”

“What?” Joan asked.

“It’s hard to make an exact measurement,” Myrin said. “You see, everyone grows at a different pace and I’m not the most experienced in humans.”

“But I was in there forever,” Joan said defensively. “I can do all kinds of amazing magic now! I trained all the time! I--”

“That’s another thing,” Myrin said, cutting her off. “You’re certainly… well trained. But you’re, how should we say…”

“My clothes don’t even fit right anymore,” Joan said defensively. “I outgrew them! And I even kind of have boobs now!”

Myrin blinked a few times, before giving a soft sigh. “Setting that aside. Joan, you’re going through puberty, we all grow during these times. At quite an accelerated rate.”

“I know,” Joan said. “I’ve done it before. A lot of times before. I mean, sure, this is the first time doing it from this side and it doesn’t make me nearly as uncomfortable most the time. I mean, sure, sometimes it does when I suddenly notice that Bauteut’s hair is really soft or Searle’s butt looks great in his britches or wow it has been a long time since I last talked to a person, I’m going to shut up now.”

“You may want to practice a bit,” Myrin said with a light chuckle. “I have not known Searle for long, but I dare say he might melt into a puddle of embarrassment if you said that to him.”

“Sounds like him,” Joan said. “Has he managed to say a full sentence to you yet?”

“Once,” Myrin said.

“He’ll get better,” Joan said with a shrug. “So do you need me to prove anything?”

“Prove anything?” Myrin asked.

“I mean, the whole hero thing,” Joan said.

“Oh, no!” Myrin said quickly. “I can hardly question the word of the Chosen, now can I?”

“How mad are they?” Joan asked.

“It varies,” Myrin said. “Korgron was quite furious, but she has calmed down considerably now.”

“Oh?” Joan asked. “Why?”

“There was a matter the Chosen had to deal with,” Myrin said. “A hydra, from what I hear. A terrible, terrible monster. Apparently Lady Korgon… took out her… aggression on it.”

Joan cringed. Poor thing likely never stood a chance. “Is it at least dead?”

“Mercifully so,” Myrin said.

“So, how bad is it?” Joan asked.

“Hm?” Myrin asked.

“The damage to my body,” Joan said. “You said I’d be stunted?”

“Ah, yes,” Myrin said. “I must say, I’ve never seen anyone with such developed magical talents at your age.”

“Why do you make that sound like a bad thing?” Joan asked.

“Because I can’t be certain how safe it is,” Myrin said. “Not to mention with… hm. How much do you know about the human body?”

“I know how many limbs and stuff it should have,” Joan said. “Also, breaking things is bad and the blood is supposed to be on the inside. I can do some personal healing and see in the dark, though. If I use the right spell.”

“So very little, then,” Myrin said. “Frankly, you’re pushing your body past its limits quite frequently. Your body is adapting, fortunately. But I’m not certain it’s very safe in the long term. Eventually you’re going to break and--”

“Oh, I’ve had this talk before,” Joan said dismissively. “It’s fine. I know. Unfortunately my limits are just going to get me killed in the end if I can’t push past them. I’m getting better at them, though.”

“I doubt that,” Myrin said. “Aging months or years in a single second hardly strikes me as safe behavior.”

“I mean, neither does having an ancient god of melting everything down show up,” Joan said. “I’m not the one who picks the things I have to deal with, I’m just doing my best to give myself the best chances of surviving them. Once all this is over, I promise I’ll take like, a week to just nap. Promise.”

Myrin shook her head. “Can I take this to mean you feel up to having visitors, then?”

Joan nodded. “Yeah. I imagine they’re going to want to have a few choice words with me?”

“More than a few,” Myrin said before getting to her feet. “I’ll go let them know you’re finally awake.”

“Err, out of curiosity,” Joan said. “How mad is Korgron?”

“Oh, she has calmed down considerably,” Myrin said. “After the hydra she actually started speaking with Lord Searle again. I think having Imp and… Qa… kog? Around has helped as well. The one I think you need to worry about the most is Bauteut, she’s positively furious. She’ll want to see you first.”

Joan nodded before relaxing back in the bed. “Yeah, having healers mad at me is kind of what I do best. Even when I was the Hero it-- wait. Who did you say is around?”

Myrin didn’t answer, having already been half out the door.

Joan stared at the door. She had to have misheard that. She just meant Imp. She had to just mean Imp.