Book 8 Chapter 8

“Well, we did it,” Korgron said. “We--”

“Almost wiped out the whole mountain range?” Joan asked. “We noticed. I-- oh no. Where’s Zapper? Oh. Oh no. If he’s--”

“He’s in his box,” Bauteut said, motioning towards the small little box for the spider. “Someone should probably tell him it’s okay to come out.”

“Oh, good, Zorn won’t get mad at least,” Joan said before looking to Korgron. “So it went well? At least, I’m assuming that’s what all those explosions meant. Not to mention the crater you left in the ground.”

Korgron gave a light chuckle. “Oh, it went better than well. Honestly, I’ve never felt better. I thought the power I had access to before was amazing. But this? I feel like I could wipe out an entire army by myself.”

“You probably will,” Joan said before giving a light yawn. “In fact, you’ll have your chance soon. We’ve just got one last stop to make. Hope you don’t mind, Lich, but we’ve got to handle this last thing before we can get you going somewhere.”

“I still have no idea what’s going on,” Lich said with an exhausted sigh. Honestly, it was kind of impressive how realistic it was, considering he was all bones and didn’t even have lungs.

“That’s the spirit,” Joan said before pulling herself to her feet. “Korgron, do you think you’re ready? I’m not entirely sure what’s going to happen when we go there.”

“Where exactly are we going?” Korgron asked. “You’ve been a bit vague about the how and where we’re going on this. Meeting the fates, the gods, all of that.”

“It’s kind of a vague… thing,” Joan said with a shrug. “It comes with being us. Though…” She glanced up at the sky. It was still early morning, but that meant they’d all been up all night. “Maybe you all should get some sleep, there’s--”

“I doubt any of us could sleep right now,” Korgron said, cutting her off. “I can’t even begin to explain how this feels. I feel like I could do every spell in the world, all at once. We’ve really never done this before?”

“Not that I know of,” Joan said.

“We had legends of the Chosen doing such things,” Lich said. “But I don’t know if the Chosen of my time could do it.”

“See? Lich knows,” Joan said. “Come on, let’s get back to the Dream Realm and go say hi.”

“What? Dream Realm?” Korgron asked. “We just left. We’re going back?”

“Kind of,” Joan said with a shrug. “Listen, it’ll all make a lot more sense when we’re there. As much sense as any dream does.”

“As much as anything involving you does,” Korgron said with a roll of her eyes. “Bauteut, you okay to wait… again?” Joan couldn’t help but notice she used her actual name this time.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bauteut said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Lich has been very good company. He has just as much knowledge of what in the world is going on as I do, so we’ve been coming up with theories about what silly thing Joan will do next.”

Joan rolled her eyes. As if he’d--

“My current guess is that she’ll try and wield the Chosen’s weapons by picking one of you up,” Lich said.

Joan just paused, opening her mouth to object. However, after a few moments she glanced to Korgron. “You know, I never actually thought about that, but I think it would work.”

“Do you really think you could carry any of us?” Korgron asked with a mildly amused smirk.

“I mean, I didn’t say it would be effective, just that it would, technically, work.”

“You forgot one thing,” Korgron said before walking towards her.

“Uhhhh… what?” Joan asked nervously.

“This,” Korgron said before reaching out and grabbing her around the waist, lifting her up to rest her on her shoulder. “You may not be able to carry me. But I can certainly carry you. Let’s go do something reckless.”

Joan just gave a light squeak, her cheeks burning as she was carried off, trying to ignore Bauteut’s laughter at the sight of her.

------

“So, what do we need to do?” Myrin asked.

“Nothing,” Joan said. The seven Chosen were all sitting with her, forming a small circle in the Dream Realm and surrounded by a blank, empty void.

“Nothing?” Hardwin asked. “Is this another ‘you’re going to nearly get yourself killed trying to do something reckless’ thing?”

“No,” Joan said, her eyes closed and struggling to focus on how she did this. “This is an ‘it took us like seventeen different mentors and years of study and dedication, depending on how long we did it, to figure out how to weave this stupid spell’ thing. Turns out accessing the Temple of the Gods isn’t exactly child’s play.”

“Ironic,” Andreas said.

Joan opened her eyes just for a moment to glare at him and the other snickering Chosen. Figures, he finally says something and he says that. “Really?”

“I thought it was funny,” Andreas said.

“Ugggggh,” Joan said before rolling her eyes and then closing them again. She took slow, deep breaths and focused on the temple, envisioning it in her mind. That part was at least a lot easier as Joan than it ever had been as the Hero. Likely because she’d seen it hundreds of times already.

“So what are we going to do there?” Chase asked.

“Figure out if there’s anything we missed,” Joan said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“What, us miss anything?” Hardwin asked. “With us constantly running around, having our memories tampered with, struggling to keep you alive? Can’t imagine how we could have missed anything.”

“I’m getting better,” Joan said. “Tell you what, once you’ve lived a few hundred lives and have the whole world depending on you to keep it from melting into sludge you can show me how it’s done, okay?”

There was more snickering and she couldn’t help but grin when she heard Chase speak up. “I mean, she does have a point.”

“The point is she should stop trying to die,” Hardwin said.

“Can you all be quiet?” Joan asked. “It’s not exactly easy doing this!”

Mercifully they finally shut up. She once again felt a moment of joy knowing she’d never been this bad when she was the Hero, only to feel another moment of annoyance when she knew that thought was a lie. She was probably even worse. Envisioning the temple in her mind, she started to weave the spell, gently mouthing the words as she worked.

“So how long should this take?” Andreas asked.

“Ughhhhhh,” Joan said before shaking her head. “Quiet. Please.”

One advantage of the Dream Realm was that the harder she focused on it, the more of an impact it had on the world. Symbols appeared in the air surrounding them, ancient arcane runes that helped to focus and balance the magic. She was so thankful that she didn’t have to worry about actually casting the spell with her own abilities. It probably would have drained every drop of magic she had in a heartbeat. Then her life.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Especially considering that even as he was weaving the spell, she realized she was still making mistakes. She’d only cast the spell like a thousand times, how could she possibly be expected to get it right the first time?

Maybe she--

Her thoughts were cut off by the sound of somebody clapping. “Seriously?” she asked before opening her eyes.

Joan stared up at the Three Sisters who were lightly clapping their hands together. “Uhhhhh… hi,” she said softly.

“Hello, little Hero,” they said.

Joan glanced around. The Chosen weren’t here. “Where are they? They’re supposed to be here with me.”

“Like every other time?” the Three Sister’s asked.

“… Yes? I… I thought they… wait, I didn’t not--”

“They’re fine,” the Three Sister’s said. “With their gods, now. Learning quite a bit, in fact. This isn’t about them, though. This is about you.” The fates started to walk towards her. It felt incredibly weird seeing the three of them still as one being, especially when they started to circle her and it felt as if they circled from the left and the right at the same time. Even though she knew they were only circling in one direction, she couldn’t say which direction it was.

“I’ve been doing my best,” Joan said softly.

“Oh, you have,” the Three Sister’s said. “Of that, there can be no doubt. But a lot has happened, has it not?”

“Did I miss something?” Joan asked.

“Countless things,” the fates said. “So, so many things. More things than we would have thought possible from you. This will… likely be the last time we ever meet.”

Joan gave a nervous gulp. “Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Good for us, bad for you,” the Three Sisters said. “Who cuts their own thread?”

“Oh yeah, heh,” Joan said sheepishly. “That was a while ago, though. Like--”

“We know that time is relative for mortals,” the fates said. “But by none of your measurements was that a ‘while ago’. We know what you’re planning, what you intend to do.”

“Will it work?” Joan asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

The fates gave an exhausted sigh and shook their heads. She wondered if she should feel bad at this point. “You will surely die.”

“I’m going to try to avoid that,” Joan said. “But will it work? Can I do this?”

“Likely not,” the Three Sisters said.

“But you don’t know, right?” Joan asked.

“We cannot,” the Three Sisters said. “By the time we can know, we can no longer alter it. We can offer you merely guidance, Hero.”

“Well, I’ve got to kill an ancient god and save anyone else who it has trapped, so any help would kind of be appreciated,” Joan said. “I’m still not even sure how I’m supposed to do it. What was with that thread, anyway? I thought it was for me, but it was for Guardian Nova. Why?”

“Is that not the Sword of the Hero?” the fates asked. “A blade that only cuts what you desire to cut. A sword that can cut through most things of demonic nature.”

Joan grinned wider. “So it can kill the Hungry One? I can--”

“No,” the Three Sisters said. “We know what you are thinking. It will not work that way, sadly. Were it that easy, none of this would have happened. We can only aid you. The tools you require you already have, all we can do is direct you towards them.”

“What tools?” Joan asked. “I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to do it. In fact, I’m pretty sure things are backfiring on me.”

“Likely, asking us to let the Demon Lord know who you were was probably amongst your dumbest decisions,” the fates said, their voice curt and oddly tired.

“Wait, what?” Joan asked.

“Never mind,” the fates said.

Joan eyed the fate before she couldn’t help it. She started to feel just a little bad. “Are you okay? You seem really tired…”

“Exhausted,” the fates said. “Our time is nearly done, however. For better or worse. You will either succeed and our duties will end. Or you will fail and we will have no more duties to do.”

“Nearly done?” Joan asked. “Are you dying? Can the fates die? How--”

“All things die, Hero,” the fates said. “Otherwise, it cannot be reborn. You should know this more than any others. This is our final meeting, in ways that you cannot comprehend nor that we can explain. It is not knowledge a mortal should consider.”

Joan nodded slowly. It felt different, though. There was no real mirth here. No humor. The fates seemed oddly tense. In a way she’d never seen them before. “Do you want me to succeed?”

“Why would we not?” the fates asked.

“I don’t know,” Joan said.

“You came here, do you not trust our aid?” the fates asked.

“Not trust isn’t the right word,” Joan said. “More that I, sorry. Right. I need your help. How do I even find the Hungry One?”

“The answer you seek lies in the tome of the one you released,” the Three Sisters said.

Joan blinked a few more times. “Wait, Lich’s spellbook? He has something that will help?”

“It will likely kill you, but yes,” the Three Sisters said.

“May?” Joan asked.

“Yes. Though if you succeed in casting it, you certainly will die,” the Three Sisters said.

“That’s it? All I need to do? Get his spell book and I can do this?” Joan asked.

There was another sigh from the fates. She couldn’t shake the feeling of strangeness from this encounter. Every past life, every time she was the Hero, the fates had seemed so different. Distant, aloof, yet still hopeful. They seemed so exhausted now. Even when they walked around her, it felt almost like they were just following a script, rather than anything they actually wanted to do. They felt almost hollow.

“What is this doing to you?” Joan asked.

“That is not for you to know, Hero,” the fates said. “The cost is our own, as your cost is yours.”

“Sorry,” Joan said. “Why is it so… you seem so…”

“We are as you expect us to be,” the fates said. “Interpret us as you interpret. Time draws ever closer on us both, an end. Success is not within our view and should be impossible, but perhaps it’s not. Afterwards? Silence. For good or ill.”

Joan nodded slowly. “Can… I ask… one more question?”

“You will ask many more, but yes,” the fates said.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Joan asked.

“Right and wrong are subjective,” the Three Sisters said. “You above all should have learned this.”

“I know,” Joan said. “I don’t just mean in this. I mean, well… in… I guess…”

“To those of your world? Yes,” the Three Sisters said. “They would likely see the path you take as correct. Even should you die, their world may yet live.”

“But was I a good Hero? Did I make things better than I left them?” Joan asked.

The Three Sisters paused, then. They stopped for a moment and gave a sigh. “Hero… you should never have existed.”

“W-what?” Joan asked.

“The Hero was never meant to exist,” the Three Sisters said. “In many ways, you were an accident. Yet, despite this, you do exist. The power of the Champion was given to you and, from you, it was taken. What that will mean in the end, we cannot say.”

“More riddles I don’t understand,” Joan said with a small groan. “What does that even mean? If I wasn’t supposed to exist, what even am I? WHO am I?”

“You are Joan,” the Three Sisters said.

“Not me, not Joan!” Joan said. “The Hero. Who IS the Hero? Why did I exist? What HAPPENED?”

The fates paused once more. For a moment, she wondered if they were going to cast her out from the realm. However, they turned their gaze on her and she, more distinct than ever, could see all three of them.

“Do you wish to see?” “We can show you.” “You do not wish to know.”

“You can show me?” Joan asked. “Yes! I want to know who I am! I want to know WHY I am!”

Once more there was silence, then, slowly, three hands reached out and coalesced on her cheek. “This will not be… simple,” the fates said softly. “We can only show you the threads and let you live through those moments. It may hurt. It may leave you with even more questions. But… we can show you who you were.”

“You… can?” Joan asked softly. “Everything?”

“We will show you some,” the fates said. “What you take from it, however, will be for you to decide.”

“Yes! Do it!” Joan yelled, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. “Finally, some answers!”

“Very well,” the fates said. “Our final, last gift to you then, Hero. May it bring you some semblance of peace before your journey comes to an end.”

One moment everything was normal, she was in the strange, white void with the fates.

Then everything changed.