Prophecy Approved Companion

Two more of her dead friends angrily greeted them at the end of the corridor.

“How could you?” Quinton shouted at the Chosen One. The Hero squinted at him.

“You look kinda familiar,” he said.

“That’s Quinton! He’s a Fighter, like you! He’s the companion of Warwick, the village Wizard!” Qube chirruped automatically. She suppressed additional details that bubbled up within her. While she was now aware that the Chosen One was a transplant from another realm, he still didn’t need every last detail about the villagers explained to him.

“You've betrayed the code of Fighters! Always protect the Wizard!” Quinton continued. The Fighter, who had once made Qube’s life mildly unpleasant by flirtatiously talking down to her while they were growing up, was pretty clearly a ghost. He was blue, as was tradition with ghosts, and see-through. But, unlike the other ghosts Qube’d encountered since leaving the village, he seemed in no hurry to dissipate.

“I’d thought better of you. Qube would have been disappointed in you,” Quince emerged from the shadows to hover disapprovingly at the Chosen One. “She loved Ruth.”

“I wouldn’t say I loved her,” Qube started, before interrupting herself. “Wait, that’s not the point. Chosen One, this is Quince, who was a Hunter, like Sexy Screamy Spider Briar. He was Ruth’s Childhood Companion.” The arachnid looked at the young ghost with the exact same amount of interest as before. Which is to say, a lot of interest. The female Hunter had been staring at the two ghosts unblinkingly, far more intrigued than she had been with any of the other spirits they’d encountered.

While it was possible that it was because they were two very attractive young men (especially for ghosts) and Sexy Screamy Spider Briar was just being flirty, something about the way the Hunter was eyeing them felt different from her usual seduction attempts. Both her children’s faces and hers had their mouths closely shut, and they were all frowning slightly. Maybe she was just getting tired of meeting those who’d passed?

It struck Qube that she’d now met nearly half a dozen spirits since leaving the protection of the village. It was honestly surprising that, given how common they seemed to be, none of the potential Chosen Ones or their Childhood Companions’ parents had become ghosts. Or, more horrifyingly, that none of the villagers had been ghosts when she’d returned to the wreckage that had once been her home.

Obviously neither of her former compatriots had been affected by the spreading [The Bard’s Ballad], as they failed to acknowledge her.

“I can’t believe you’d choose that thief over Warwick,” Quinton continued scolding the Hero, more serious than Qube had ever seen him before. “Sure, she’s beautiful, but leaving Warwick to suffer forever? What kind of monster are you?”

Wait, what was he talking about?

“Ruth had a hard enough life, I can’t believe you’d leave her to suffer forever. What kind of monster are you?” Quinton asked in his gravelly voice.

Qube was now hopelessly confused. Ruth had a hard life? Did he mean the fact that she was a Rogue in a village with no crime? But they’d figured that problem out! Was it the fact that she was an orphan? They all were! Why were they copying each other’s speeches, too?

And why were both Quince and Quinton acting like only one of the potential Chosen Ones had been saved? Surely they should be more attuned to their particular Chosen One! The thought slid into Qube’s mind that maybe this was why her Chosen One had been the one actually Chosen. Their connection was so strong she was able to see Save Points; she’d certainly know whether or not he was cursed to remain undead!

…Except for the part where she’d not known the Chosen One was someone from the Devs’ realm possessing the body of her Childhood Companion, whose spirit was destroyed in the process.

Oh no. Oh no. Was Felix’s spirit going to be the next one they faced? She felt her guts twist at the thought. If the Evil Emperor was able to summon and bind the dead, it would make sense that he’d have the final ghost they had to face be Felix himself. Only two things stopped this potential future from being a certainty:

The first was that she wasn’t sure if he knew about the Chosen One not being Felix. Depending on whether or not he was actually capable of spying on Definitely Bad Guy without the Mage’s knowledge, and how much information he was able to gather, it was entirely possible that the Evil Emperor had no idea that the simple villager potential and the Chosen One were two separate people. Especially if his spirit had been properly destroyed in the possession process, rather than him dying.

The second was a bit more morbid. She didn’t know if the Evil Emperor needed … well, if he needed bits from the original body to summon and bind their ghosts. Certainly a revival would require a substantial portion of the… person… to pull off with any degree of success, but ghosts could be very different. Especially one obliterated by a possession, rather than death.

The Evil Emperor had taken a lock of her hair. Had he been hoping to bring her back as a ghost, if she perished on the adventure? Or maybe he’d been using it as a way to tell whether or not she was still alive. Or worse… what if that was how he was spying on the party (if, indeed, he was spying on the party)? What if, rather than the more curse-aware Definitely Bad Guy, she was actually the one who’d been secretly passing on information without her knowledge?

“So how can we tell if we’re being spied on by the Evil Emperor?” Qube asked Definitely Bad Guy. The Mage Advisor stared at her.

“I would need to return to my tower to see if I can find any traces of his magic remaining upon me,” he said, his eyes darting between her and the two ghosts in front of them. “Given we are within his lair, I would expect him to be able to watch us at any point he chooses while we remain within it.”

“Oh, sure,” Qube said, shaking herself slightly. “I suppose after we defeat him it won’t really matter if he can see us or not, will it? Sorry.”

Qube was aware that she wasn’t really engaging with her two dead friends. If she’d thought about it before coming into the castle, she would have expected herself to be excited to talk to them. Sure, the confirmation that they’d died horrible deaths at the hands of her nemesis (well, the entire kingdom’s nemesis, but she definitely felt she’d earned the right to hate him on a very personal level) would be upsetting, but the fact that they’d experienced what existence after death was like was still super exciting!

She’d run into undead before, and spirits, and … whatever Ruth and Warwick had been, but they weren’t people she knew, not like Quinton and Quince. They’d been the only two who’d understood the unique pressure a Prophecy Approved Companion was under, and the only ones she’d been able to really talk to about how hard the training was, and the difficulties in something both prestigious and precarious.

If there was anyone she would have felt comfortable asking deeply personal questions about what life after death was like, it would be these two. The only person she would have felt even more comfortable asking would be…

No, even Felix she would’ve hesitated before asking some of the real questions. He’d been her dearest friend, in an assigned kind of way, but some things were never discussed between them.

But she couldn’t bring herself to engage with Quinton and Quince. She hadn’t asked Sencha Bard to play his song, or the Chosen One to inform them that, rather than her being disappointed in the Hero, she was very proud of him.

She couldn’t articulate why. There was just this feeling inside of her, a sense of pushing them away, not wanting to connect to them. Or, more accurately, to reconnect to them.

She’d changed so very, very much since the last time she’d seen them, back at the training grounds in the village. She’d grown, in all sorts of weird and wonderful ways, and she didn’t know if she could go back to being the Qube they knew. If she would go back to being the Qube they knew if she interacted with them. If she even should go back.

She’d spent so long wanting to leave the village, then questing, thinking about all the things she’d want to explore and research after the kingdom was saved and the village restored, then the whole Devs’ realm situation… if, after all that, she finally returned to the village, who would she be? Would her old friends even recognise her? Well, obviously, they would physically recognise her, given she couldn’t even change outfits, but would they recognise who she’d become as a person?

Would they be able to relate to her, after all the experiences she’d had? And, depending on how they were restored to life, would she be able to relate to them, after their horrific mass murder and sojourns to the afterlife? Thanks to all her learning, she’d probably be able to understand them, but she suddenly wasn’t so sure that any of them would be able to make that leap.

As she avoided looking at the ghosts of her friends, she knew there was more to it than that. It was when they both re-started berating the Chosen One for not putting the spirit of their particular potential Chosen One to rest that it finally clicked in her mind.

She didn’t want to talk to two of her oldest friends in the world, who knew a side of her no one else could appreciate, and discover that they were nothing more than constructs, going through the motions.

She sat with that realisation for quite some time, deliberately oblivious to the world around her.

---

“I keep wanting to say something about jewellery, necklaces in particular.” Sexy Screamy Spider Briar sounded annoyed as the words burst out of her. “I don’t even wear any jewellery!” Qube returned her attention to reality, unsure of how much time had passed.

“What, like there’s a door that’s hidden by an illusion and I need to put on that illusion-removing necklace so I can see where the doorway is, and also realise that these two ghosts are nothing but illusions?” The Chosen One once again displayed his amazing grasp of how to navigate trials.

“Surely you’d only need one necklace for that,” Sencha Bard said, pointing out the flaw in the Hero’s reasoning. “Although the fact that they seem unable to realise that both the Rogue and the Wizard were put to rest does imply that they’re merely illusions, incapable of processing any information outside of what the spell that brought them into existence gave them.”

“I’m telling you, man, you’re assuming a whole lot more sense-making than reality allows,” the Chosen One said to his Bard, before pulling out both necklaces and donning them at the same time.

“You required both nectars to pass the last trial,” Sencha Bard replied.

“Do you really think we weren’t supposed to make a gut-wrenching choice back there?” the Chosen One asked as both Quinton and Quince dissolved into nothingness and, just as he predicted, a doorway emerged. However, in a move he hadn’t anticipated, two small wooden chests also appeared. He turned to the rest of the group, the faint smile on his face disappearing as he saw Qube’s expression.

“Oh, [snacks],” he whispered. “Hey, I’m really sorry,” he said, reaching out a hand towards Qube, then dropping it.

Qube blinked at him in confusion.

“Sorry?”

“Yeah, I should have asked if you wanted to talk to any of the guys we just put to rest. Both here, and back there.” He nodded at the corridor they’d emerged from. “They were your friends, weren’t they?”

Qube shook her head. “I would have spoken up if I’d wanted to, Chosen One,” she said quietly.

“I still should have asked,” the Hero replied.

“The answer is no. I didn’t want to talk to my friends while they were suffering like that. I…” she paused, uncertain of how to express the feelings swirling within her. “I’ll talk to them once they’re restored, and all this is behind us. Thank you, though.”

“All right,” the Chosen One said, his eyes scanning her as if searching for clues. “If you say so.” He nodded at the two chests, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. See, our superior Temple-breaking skills have paid off and, with all our double items, we’ll breeze through this castle, and you’ll have your friends back in no time. This is gonna be easy.”

Sencha Bard stared at the ceiling in exasperation. The rest of the party looked confused, but Qube closed her eyes in exquisite agony. Even though she wasn’t as attuned to narratives as Sencha Bard, she knew the Hero had just doomed them all.