CHAPTER 133: ATTEMPT TWO

Grace’s arms burned as she hammered the last board into place. The barn door was fixed. Finally.

"That should hold," she told the farmer. "At least until the storm passes."

The man pumped her hand enthusiastically. "Thank you, angel! Thank you so much!"

Quest counter: 19/20.

One more. Just one more and the village would have protection. Grace wiped sweat and rain from her face. Her whole body felt like one giant bruise.

"Anyone else need help?" she called out to the small crowd that had gathered.

A young woman stepped forward.

"My grandmother’s stuck in her house. The door swelled shut from all the rain."

Of course it did.

Grace followed the woman through the muddy streets. The wind had gotten worse over the last hour. Not just strong—erratic. It would die completely for a few seconds, then come roaring back from a different direction. Like the Tempest couldn’t make up her mind which way to blow.

[Speaking of not making up your mind...]

Grace had been thinking about the Tempest all day. About what Eternia had said—how she’d dumped all her indecision and frustration into that Pillar. What would that even feel like? Never being able to settle on anything, always second-guessing, constantly changing direction like the wind itself.

The grandmother’s house was small and crooked. The door was definitely stuck.

"I’ve been trying to get it open all morning," the young woman said.

Grace braced her shoulder against the wood and pushed. Nothing. She tried pulling. Still nothing.

"Maybe if we—" Grace started.

But what? Break it down? The old woman needed that door. Find another way in? The windows were too small. Get tools? There weren’t any nearby.

Every option led to more problems. More choices.

[Is this what it’s like for the Tempest? Every decision splitting into a dozen more?]

Grace kept pushing at the door, mind wandering. If she was like that—unable to stick with any thought, constantly second-guessing—what would she want? Someone to make decisions for her? No, that would just make the paranoia worse. Someone to trust? But how could you trust when your own mind kept changing?

"Maybe we could try the back?" the young woman suggested.

Right. The door.

Grace walked around the house. The back door was also stuck, but less so. A few good shoves and it popped open.

"Grandma!" The woman rushed inside.

Grace followed, finding an elderly lady sitting calmly at her kitchen table, sipping tea.

"Oh hello, dear. I was wondering when someone would come by."

"You weren’t worried?" Grace asked.

The old woman shrugged.

"At my age? I’ve been through worse than a stuck door."

The two women fussed over each other while Grace watched. The grandmother had just... waited. Patient. Trusting someone would come.

[But the Tempest can’t do that. She’s been waiting centuries and no one came.]

Grace thought about that as she helped check the house for damage. The Tempest had been alone with Eternia’s frustration for so long. Every year making the paranoia worse, the indecision stronger. Like a feedback loop of doubt.

What would Grace want if she was trapped like that?

She honestly didn’t know.

Quest complete: 20/20.

The notification popped up in Grace’s vision. The village now had Angelic Protection for six months. Great. That would help with the demon problem. Not so much with the two-beings-who-could-kill-her-permanently problem.

Grace headed back through the storm. A piece of someone’s roof sailed past her head. She ducked, mud splashing up her legs.

The inn door nearly ripped off its hinges when she opened it. She had to fight to close it again.

Diana and Venus were waiting in the common room. Venus had actually put clothes on, which meant this was serious.

"So?" Diana asked. "You figure out your brilliant plan yet?"

Grace shrugged, water dripping from her hair.

"Not really."

"Fantastic."

"I know she’s paranoid. I know she can’t make decisions. I know she’s got centuries of Eternia’s frustration built up. But what do you do with someone who can’t trust anything, including themselves?"

Venus tilted her head.

"You could try fucking her."

"That’s your solution to everything," Diana said.

"It’s worked so far."

"The Tempest has a Primal Demon bodyguard. You think she’s gonna stop mid-fight for some intimate healing?"

"You never know until you try."

Grace dropped into a chair. Everything hurt. Her back, her arms, her legs. Even her wings were sore somehow.

"I keep thinking about it," she said. "If I was in her position—unable to focus, unable to trust my own thoughts—what would I want someone to do?"

"And?" Diana prompted.

"And I’ve got nothing. Everything I think of, I immediately second-guess. Which is probably exactly what she goes through."

The windows rattled. Something crashed outside—sounded like a roof coming off. Or maybe a whole building.

"Whatever we’re doing, we should do it soon," Venus said. "This weather’s getting worse by the hour."

She was right. Grace had seen the damage firsthand all day. Flooded homes, destroyed crops, injured people. The longer they waited, the worse it would get.

"I think we just need to go back up there," Grace said. "You and me. Try again. See if we can get past the Primal together."

"That’s not a plan. That’s hoping we get lucky."

"You got a better idea?"

Diana was quiet. Then:

"No."

Thunder shook the building. The lanterns swayed on their hooks.

"Look," Grace said, "maybe I can’t think of the perfect solution because there isn’t one. Maybe the Tempest is too far gone, too paranoid to reach. But I have to try."

"Why?" Diana asked. Not challenging. Genuinely curious.

Grace thought about it.

"Because that’s what I do. Yeah, maybe I could just cut her down but I’d rather try to help. Even if I don’t know how."

"That’s a terrible reason to get yourself killed."

"Probably."

Venus sighed dramatically.

"Well, if you’re both determined to die heroically, at least do it on a full stomach." She waved over the innkeeper. "Three bowls of whatever’s hot."

The food helped. Grace hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the stew hit her stomach. Potato something with chunks of meat. Basic, filling, perfect.

"So when do we go?" Diana asked between bites.

Grace looked out the window. The sky was almost black despite it being late afternoon. Lightning turned everything white every few seconds.

"Tonight," she said.

"Tonight?" Diana frowned. "You’ve been working all day. You’re exhausted."

"And tomorrow I’ll still be exhausted, plus another night of storms. Might as well go while I’ve still got some anger to fuel me."

"Anger?"

"Yeah. I’m pissed off." Grace was surprised to realize it was true. "The Tempest is so wrapped up in her own problems she doesn’t care who gets hurt. The Root, the Tide, even the Flame—they at least tried to minimize collateral damage. But this?"

She gestured at the window, where debris flew past like missiles.

"She’s throwing a tantrum that’s destroying everything. So yeah. I’m angry."

Diana grinned.

"Now that’s more like it."

"Still not a plan," Venus pointed out.

"No. But it’s motivation." Grace looked at Diana. "You in?"

"Obviously. Can’t let you have all the fun."

"Fun. Right." Grace rubbed her face. "Getting our asses kicked by a Primal is gonna be super fun."

"Better than sitting here waiting to blow away."

True.

They finished eating in silence. Grace tried to think tactics. The Primal was strong—probably stronger than her, even with her recent power boost. But it was still just muscle and claws. Still, there was also the Tempest to think about.

[One problem at a time, Grace.]

"We should go before it gets worse," she said finally.

Diana nodded.

"Give me an hour to get ready. Need to sharpen my sword, check my armor."

"An hour then. North gate?"

"Yeah."

Diana stood.

"Try not to do anything stupid before then."

"Like what?"

"Like running off to fight them yourself because you got impatient."

Grace put a hand over her heart.

"I would never."

"Bullshit."

But Diana was smiling as she headed upstairs.

Venus stretched like a cat.

"Well, while you two go get yourselves killed, I’ll be here. Keeping morale up."

"How noble," Grace said dryly.

"Someone has to comfort all the lonely villagers." Venus winked. "Don’t die. I’d hate to have to explain that to Celestia."

She sauntered toward the stairs, hips swaying.

"Oh, Grace?" she called back.

"Yeah?"

"When you do try to fuck the Tempest—and we both know you will—remember what I taught you about using your fingers. Paranoid types usually respond well to a firm touch."

Grace’s face went hot.

"I-I’m not going to—"

"Of course not." Venus’s smile was knowing. "Just in case though."

Then she was gone, leaving Grace alone with her embarrassment.

[Great. Now I’m thinking about fingering the Tempest. That’s helpful.]

She pushed the thought away. She had an hour. Should probably prepare somehow. Check her weapons, stretch, meditate. Something productive.

Instead she sat there, watching the storm through the window.

The Tempest was up there on her mountain. Paranoid, indecisive, lashing out at everything. Grace still didn’t know how to fix that. But maybe Diana was right. Maybe she just needed to hit things until a solution presented itself.

It had worked before.

Kind of.

Thunder crashed again. The whole building shook.

[Tonight then.]

One way or another, this would end tonight.