The Duty of a Hero

"Dorma…" Barion was completely out of breath, "Are you okay?"

The woman beneath him, whose chest also rose and fell in laboured breaths, managed a soft smile amidst the stupor of exhaustion.

"Yes…" She said, "Actually… I'm very happy…"

Letting out a restrained giggle, she rubbed her stomach with one hand, "About those things we ended up saying…"

"We went too far. I went too far." He finished, "I should have been more responsible."

"Well… I think today is a safe day… as safe as it can possibly get, anyway."

"I wouldn't have guessed it by the way you were speaking to me."

"Fufu…" She giggled, "I didn't want to ruin your fantasy… and, it was also very gratifying for me to play along with."

"Dorma, all those things I said… when I insulted you, or spoke down to you--you know that isn't how I really feel, right?" He broke eye contact with her, embarrassed, "You're a strong person. I just wanted to-"

"It's okay, Barion." She forgave him, "Things become… different in the bedroom, don't they? It made me excited when you acted like that, so please don't think I wasn't enjoying myself."

"But still…" He smirked awkwardly, "It feels strange to suddenly have this kind of physical relationship with someone who's been a comrade of yours for so long."

"I think we were both in need of it…" Dorma reassured him, "...Barion?"

"Yes?"

"Could you…" She stared into his eyes, "...kiss me?"

He didn't answer, but instead blinked in a state of surprise. In the hot, musty haze of that room, where the smell of sex still lingered in the air, his heart fluttered in an unexpectedly romantic fashion. Leaning forward, he gently embraced her body and moved their faces closer together.

"Hold my hand." She whispered, taking his wrist and slowly moving her fingers up to entangle with his. They were close enough to feel the laboured heartbeats of one-another, and the refreshing coolness upon each of their breaths.

Dorma's lips trembled, "Barion… I love you…"

His kiss carried none of the beastly aggression she had endured just moments prior. Rather, his embrace was more like that of a lover's--gentle and comforting, enraptured in the very same fashion as her. For the longest time, they appeared glued to one-another, sharing loving kisses between gasps of air.

Could it be said that the tension between them had been building for the entire duration of their 500-year relationship? Certainly, Barion had looked upon her in that way on more than a few occasions, and she had done the same to him, but was that not human nature? And yet, it was as if feelings long-suppressed had exploded that night, and now they were free to act on their basest urges as regularly as it pleased them.

"Barion…" As they separated from their final kiss, Dorma said his name, "Won't you leave this place with me?"

"Dorma…"

"Let's run far away from Gria… to a quiet village, or a lonesome cottage in the countryside… let's watch the sunsets, and create new life together… haven't we earned that much?"

He understood her sentiment. With 500 years behind them, their bodies had never aged a day, but their minds were a different story. There were scarce few places the two of them had not witnessed with their own eyes, and between them, they had experienced enough miracles and trials to last several lifetimes. Yes, they were still 'young' in that moment--still in their prime, even, but an overwhelming fatigue resided deep within.

The beauty of a world free from the Demon King was everlasting, but they desired rest more than anything else. Though they outwardly appeared stalwart or plain motivated, the faraway dream of a peaceful life was a tempting one indeed.

"That sounds wonderful." Barion sighed, "...But you already know what my answer is."

"Of course. It's just a pleasant dream of mine." Dorma smiled sadly, "We can't just run away from the world. Especially after encountering a Demon."

"Won't you follow me, Dorma?" He requested.

"My. Were you being serious about me becoming your woman?"

"Is that not what you want?"

"Oh, Barion…" Dorma raised her hands and ran her fingers along his cheeks, "Of course it is. For the longest time, I've desired that. But the world can never be so simple, can it?"

"I suppose you can't just up and leave your position on the council."

"If I could, I would follow you anywhere." She vowed, "This world only needs a moment more of our time, Barion. Once the threat of Demons is extinguished forever, our work will finally be complete."

"If I had known the work of a hero would take over 500 years, I wouldn't have been so excited about it in the first place."

"You know that-"

"-nobody else could do it. I do." He finished her sentence, "Even so, I think about what a normal life might have been like every now and again."

"That's our burden, it seems."

"If you hadn't seduced me tonight, it wouldn't have crossed my mind at all, so who's to blame, really?"

"Shunting your problems onto a friend? How unheroic of you."

He smiled, "...Then, at least for tonight, let's quietly forget about our duties."

"I think that would be lovely."

They shared another kiss, one which flared with an ember of the passion they had lost themselves to just minutes before, but the two of them were too exhausted to consider a second round. Instead, they fell asleep like that, clutching one-another closely and lovingly.

When the morning sunlight was beginning to poke through a gap in the curtains, Barion awoke, regretfully, to just himself. Where he expected to see Dorma, there was instead a note on the bedside table. The rough edges of the lettering implied it had been written with some kind of magic. It read:

"Barion,

Unfortunately, I must be going, but I don't want to leave anything unsaid, so consider this message a declaration of my sincerity. Whether spurred by passion or craving, my love for you is nonetheless quite genuine. Should your travels ever lead you to Gria again, please find me once more. I have waited 500 years, and I will wait 500 more if need be. Only promise me that last night was not our final encounter.

Yours with love,

Dorma"

"How very romantic." He smiled, "One day. I'm sure of it."

Despite his feelings, he was keen to be on his way. The appearance of a Demon had convinced him that there were undoubtedly more which had managed to elude the events of 500 years ago. Without the power of the hero, it was quite possible that anomalies much like the goblin burrow could quickly spiral out of control. Even if only a handful existed, it was his duty to find, and eradicate, every last one. His standing in the Merchant's Guild would no doubt be of great use in his search.

Still, the question remained--in which direction was he headed? Barion had seen much of the world since donning the mantle of a merchant, but never before had he encountered a survivor of the Demon King's armies until the day prior. News of such a creature would spread quickly, so it was only natural that they had been keeping low profiles.

"Wish I had never thrown away that Demon-Detecting Stone a few centuries ago… I doubt an alchemist nowadays would be able to make another one…" He sat on the bed while muttering to himself, "...Or, maybe that's not entirely true?"

Alchemy was an esoteric art. Both the brewing of potions and the enchanting of mundane items were complicated procedures requiring lifetimes of practice to master. As the world embraced its freedom following the defeat of the Demon King, the need for alchemy slowly dwindled in favour of goods that were more immediately useful--food, lumber, metals, and traditional herbal medicine, among other things. Even a standard healing potion had become a rarity.

"Yamora…" He spoke a name that was familiar to him, "I wonder if you're still alive…?"

When he journeyed across the world as the fabled hero alongside Dorma and Shilahi, the three of them sought out a woman who was said to be the greatest alchemist of all--one whose intelligence had granted her the title of 'Sage' at a time when Dorma was only a budding sorcerer. From her, Barion received the fabled Philosopher's Stone, which was used to awaken the hero's blade to its full power.

"The Forbidden Swamp…" He recalled her place of residence, "If there's anyone who can craft a Demon-Detecting Stone, it'd be her. Or, whoever's taken her place, at least."

Yamora was old. Or, perhaps 'ancient' was a better term. Such was her advanced age that potions of longevity, which had extended Barion's lifespan into the hundreds, no longer had an effect on her body. It was quite possible that she had passed silently some time ago.

"There's a southern hamlet close to the swamp." Barion remembered, "Though, it wasn't much to look at back then… wonder if it's changed at all?"

The Forbidden Swamp was located close to the southern coast of Tor, thankfully. Perhaps only a few weeks away on a wagon. As Barion dressed himself and gathered his belongings, it was already seeming as though his next destination had been decided.