"But we need you!"

I crossed my arms, sitting in the cottage I called home. The spokesman was pale, standing up from his chair in horror.

"I said I was done the last time. I meant it. So no, you can go back and say I'm not helping."

The spokeman spluttered, tapping his scroll frantically.

"But.... but.... but it will be the end of our world! The rising tide of corrupted treants and dryads will destroy all of our cities! Countless people will die!"

I shrugged.

"So? Every time I have helped, I have lost. Either something or someone precious. I have nothing left I am willing to give up. So find someone else to break themselves for you. I won't do it anymore."

The spokesman stepped towards me, tightening his fist. The scroll crumpled in his grasp, the pale skin now turning red with anger.

"You are always rewarded! How dare you not care anymore!"

I slowly stood up. My long years of service had left me with a powerful body, one that made me stand over any ordinary person.

"I said I'm done. Now leave, before I lose my temper."

He shivered at the implication. I pointed to the door, letting him make the choice. After dithering for a moment he walked out, though he walked like he wanted to run. I watched him leave, before sighing.

"Is that enough for you?"

A potted plant on my windowsill twitched, before an ethereal voice rose from it.

"That is enough assurance. You have my word your friends will be left unharmed by this transition."

I relaxed, settling into my chair. It turns out the best action for me was inaction.