Prophecy Approved Companion

Book Three Chapter Thirty Six: TT_Mascot_Totem

“Anyway,” the Chosen One said, breaking the moment, “we should probably get on with this Temple, hey?”

Qube wasn’t fooled. The Chosen One was never interested in actually completing the task at hand. He just didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore. Given the party hadn’t actually meant to talk to him about their worries regarding the Devs and the Golden Prophecy, she had no problem moving on.

Also, she was excited to see what was inside the final Temple, and what lay beyond. What Bestowals would they get? How would they go about getting the stolen Temple gems when they were done here? Were the chickens still following the Evil Emperor, or was he still screaming in the plaza? But she mustn't get ahead of herself. They had to finish this Temple first.

… She wasn’t entirely sure where they were supposed to start with solving this puzzle. All the other Temples had contained clearly linear paths, even if they had been infested with annoying platforms. This vault, however, just seemed to hold endless drawers and the single coffin that dominated the room.

The Chosen One, however, wasn’t as lost. With his Heroic training, he quickly managed to find a drawer that had a small red gem on it underneath the name “The Creature.” He showed no hesitation, probably made confident by his ongoing studies in the Devs’ realm, and immediately pressed down on the gem. The panel slid back to reveal an alcove that contained nothing but a small stone carving of an otter.

“What the—?” the Chosen One muttered, all his Hero confidence melting away in an instant. He reached out to pick up the carving. As soon as he touched the statue, the walls dissolved, and the coffin in the middle of the room slid into the floor.

Then they teleported, which made the business with the walls and coffin seem somewhat unnecessary.

---

The room they teleported into was familiar, though rendered in grey. It took Qube a moment to place it. It was the room in the Water Temple where they’d met that odd little creature that wanted to be bribed with clams before agreeing to join the Chosen One on his quest to save the kingdom! What was his name?

“Otto just want to be left alone!” the otter squeaked.

Otto! That was it! But this otter was a lot smaller than the Otto they’d met so long ago. And there were a bunch of other small otters around him, jostling him about. No, not just jostling. They were pushing him into the water!

“Stop that!” Qube snapped, forgetting that they couldn’t hear her. While she might not have approved of Otto’s demands of clams for loyalty, she wasn’t going to idly stand by while someone was being bullied.

“I don’t know if they’re actually there,” the Chosen One said, squinting at the animals. “They look like they might be—”

What the rest of the party would have done to prevent this bullying, they were destined to never know. For at that moment Squiggles erupted into action.

The sharktopus glowed glittering gold as she ploughed through the bullying otters, faster than they’d ever seen her move before, her shining teeth not even scraping their sides as they were scooped into her cavernous maw by her tentacles. Within seconds the otters were gone, leaving only the little Otto.

The Chosen One’s mouth was hanging open.

“—never mind,” he said weakly. “I…wow. Did she glow?”josei

“Squiggles!” Qube exclaimed. “Did you just eat a bunch of otters without trying to talk to them first?”

Squiggles, no longer glowing, glanced at Qube, but then turned her attention back to the small otter she was looming front of. The aquatic mammal looked tiny, cowering before the skartopus. Squiggles slowly lifted a tentacle, and gently petted the otter on his head. The otter gradually stopped shaking, and instead raised large, wet eyes up at his saviour.

“Me thank you,” he said timidly. “They no like me, cause me talk.”

He had the same speech pattern and name as Otto. And they’d been teleported to the same room where they’d met Otto. Was this his child, whom he’d decided to name after himself for some strange reason? Why wasn’t he there, protecting his young? Was he dead?

Even the mini-Otto seemed confused, staring at Squiggles.

“You not…” he stopped, flustered.

Squiggles slowly opened her mouth. The otter, rather than being intimidated by what would have been a terrifying sight to a fully-grown person, and must have been mind-bendingly horrifying to something so small, peered inquisitively down her throat.

“Oh!” the child exclaimed. “There me are!” He looked up at Squiggles. “Thank you!” he said, and dissolved into smoke.

This Temple sure liked dissolving things, Qube observed as she coughed and waved away the smoke that had just been a child.

“I…” the Chosen One seemed lost for words as the smoke cleared. A small, black hourglass was all that remained of the mini Otto. “I don’t think that was how we were supposed to solve that.”

He stared at Squiggles, who mournfully petted the hourglass with a tentacle.

He broke into a grin.

“Good girl,” he cooed, scratching her behind her green ribbon. “Who’s a good girl? You are! You’ve learned how to break things just like your papa, haven’t you?”

As the room yet again dissolved around them and she felt the tug of teleportation, Qube swore to increase her guidance over Squiggles, to hopefully offset some of the Chosen One’s madness.

She didn’t stop to wonder who was going to counter his own influence over her.

---

When they returned to the mausoleum the gem on the drawer they were next to flickered, then turned green.

“There!” Qube said excitedly, pointing at another drawer that had a red gem glowing on it. “There’s another one!”

Now she knew how the puzzle worked, she couldn’t wait to solve it! She raced over to it and had to stop herself from bouncing on her feet as she waited for the Hero to catch up to her.

Or, wait. The Chosen One kept telling the rest of them to take charge. Dare she—?

Then she saw the name under the gem: “The Mage.”

“Oh, it’s for you!” she called back to Definitely Bad Guy. “Wait, does this mean they were calling mini Otto ‘The Creature’? That seems a bit rude.” While she might not have agreed with his misplaced priorities, that didn’t mean Otto or his son deserved to be called creatures. They were mascots, like Squiggles!

She patiently waited for the Mage to open his drawer as he followed behind the Chosen One. Qube, even knowing it was extremely rude of her, had gotten into the habit of not staying three paces behind the Hero at all times. Even the others were starting to spread out a bit when they formed a group.

It was just one of the ways their familiarity with the Chosen One was causing them to transform into something completely different from everyone else.

But the Mage seemed to be dragging his feet slightly, eyeing the drawer with his class on it with an oddly suspicious look. The Hero also seemed mildly confused and, even though the drawer was clearly marked for Definitely Bad Guy, reached out and tapped the red gem.

The panels slid back, revealing another alcove. But rather than an adorably tiny statue of Definitely Bad Guy, which Qube had been hoping for, there was …

“A cremation urn?” the Chosen One asked the container. It didn’t reply. He touched it lightly with the tip of a finger. Nothing happened.

“It must be for a Mage that did a great service to the kingdom,” Sencha Bard couldn’t conceal his interest as he leaned closer, examining the deep red ceramic. “And this is their final resting place.”

“Does that mean that the baby otter did a great service to the kingdom?” Qube asked, diverted from her annoyance at the Chosen One ignoring drawer-opening etiquette. Which was another way she’d changed; in the beginning she would have considered everything the Hero did in a Temple to be the correct thing to do.

That had been before she got to know this particular Hero.

“I assumed that was a memory of Otto’s,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said mildly.

Qube was about to protest that it didn’t make sense for Otto, of all beings, to be in a mausoleum, but stopped herself just in time. They’d been transported to the Water Temple, and this was a Time Temple. She felt a flash of guilt at the thought that maybe the reason Otto had demanded clams rather than instantly trusting the Goodness and worthiness of the Chosen One’s cause was that he had been rejected and hurt by others who should have been trustworthy before.

Which, in turn, had made it become a self-fulfilling prophecy (a very inferior type of prophecy), as he had ended up rejected by those who could have been his loyal friends because of his lack of trust in them.

Had the statue of him been the otter equivalent of a funerary urn?

“Maybe once we’ve saved the kingdom, we should go back to the Water Temple and check on him, make sure he’s all right,” Qube said uneasily. “That way you can check on your family and friends too,” she added to Squiggles, who tilted her head curiously. The maybe baby Deep One grinned, her glittering teeth shining in the dim lighting of the mausoleum.

Definitely Bad Guy hadn’t contributed to the conversation at all. Definitely Bad Guy was still staring at the urn. Definitely Bad Guy was looking decidedly unwell. He reached out long, delicate fingers and gently brushed them against the side of the urn. It didn’t react.

The Hero gave the Mage a sideways glance.

“This is my urn,” the Mage said quietly. “I know it as I know my own name.”

The Chosen One licked his lips.

“Am I dead?” he asked the Chosen One without an ounce of inflection in his voice.

The Hero looked trapped, but didn’t reply.

“Of course you’re not dead!” Qube exclaimed indignantly. “I think we all would have noticed if we were walking around with a ghost!” Granted, last time she’d met a ghost, she hadn’t realised until said ghost had turned blue and disappeared, but someone in the group would have noticed Definitely Bad Guy dying. Especially since the last time she’d seen him die it had been very obvious and extremely traumatic, and that was even with the memory being blurred by the Chosen One turning back time.

Oh! Maybe that was it. The Chosen One looked even more cornered, and Qube felt her heart fill with pity as she realised why.

“Chosen One, you’re going to have to tell him,” she said softly. The Hero gave her a horrified look.

“You want me to tell him?” he nearly squeaked.

“You’re right,” Qube instantly realised his point, “I’ll tell him.” She was far better at explanations. She took a deep breath and reached out, taking the Mage’s hands.

“Definitely Bad Guy,” she began, “do you remember how we just emptied out the inn and met the Evil Emperor?”

Everyone was looking at her. Definitely Bad Guy nodded, signalling he remembered the very scary thing that had happened yesterday.

“Well the reason we did that is because when we were about to go into the inn the Chosen One and I… we caught a glimpse into the future. In that future you hadn’t told us about—about the Evil Emperor and you,” she swallowed hard, “and he—he killed you using something called a [Traitor’s Curse]. The Chosen One used a spell to end the vision, and for some reason I was also caught in the future sight spell. This urn is probably a result of that premonition.”

The Mage stared at her as she delicately blushed at her forwardness in discussing the spell.

“If what we saw last time was a glimpse into Otto’s past, then I think this is a look at the future, the one where you hadn’t told us the truth. This is, after all, a Time Temple.”

For once the Mage didn’t turn bright red, even though she was holding his hands. Instead he was glancing between the Chosen One and her. The Chosen One had gone back to looking at the urn, his face very pale, his expression grim.

“Locked off world…” he muttered.

“What you did to the Evil Emperor disrupted his activation of the curse,” the Mage said thoughtfully, studying both of their faces.

“One way or another, if he’d been allowed to act freely, you wouldn’t have left that place alive,” Sencha Bard said, now moving away from the urn. The Hero looked up at that, but said nothing.

“Because Definitely Bad Guy would have rejected him, and he would have used the curse,” Qube agreed. The Bard gave her a mildly condescending look.

“Either way he would have killed him,” the Bard explained. “He would have been too great a risk to leave unsupervised at that point. Every saga ends with the villain killing a turncoat, regardless of which side the turncoat chooses in the end.”

“Rewarded as a traitor deserves,” Qube quoted sadly. She shook her head. As she’d said to the Chosen One, it didn’t make any sense from a long-term loyalty point of view, but, with the urn directly in front of them, it was irrefutable evidence that he was right, and that the Evil Emperor was no smarter than the villains in the stories.

No wonder the side of Good was always able to use the power of love and friendship to win the day. Evil was rubbish at relationships.