Prophecy Approved Companion

Chapter 132: Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Nine: Scale_Selection


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Qube was reasonably certain that hadn’t been what Definitely Bad Guy had wanted to say, but she didn’t want to embarrass him by demanding he talk about what she suspected he’d been about to dive into: the mechanics of the spell.

 

Whether she refrained from demanding honesty from him because it was a delicate topic, or because she knew that (as much as she loved hearing about it) the others probably didn’t want to sit through another lecture on the subject, was a matter she preferred not to clarify, even to herself.

 

Regardless of the reason, she simply smiled, clasped her hands together, and twirled to face the others.

 

“That’s a very good question!” she chirruped. “How did we want to do this room?”

 

“Given we can’t contact this pharaoh, it’s a simple choice,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said, shrugging all her shoulder joints. “Either we release this tyrant, and have him terrorise his people, or we seal him away forever, leaving the people free.”

 

“That is a very harsh way of putting it, my delicate flower,'' Sewer Bard interjected worriedly. 

 

“Then how would you put it?” the Hunter replied testily. “We cannot talk to him, he offers us only trinkets, and he is mind controlling those poor dears outside.” The Bard seemed to freeze, his eyes darting over to the Chosen One, before back to the others.

 

“Definitely Bad Guy,” Sewer Bard said, turning to the Mage. “You’re familiar with spells, and tyrants. Pray, tell us your thoughts on the matter.”

 

“You’re asking him for a moral judgement?” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady asked, disgust dripping from every word. Qube made a small, disappointed sound. She’d thought those two had been getting on better, but the Hunter sounded like she hated the Mage!

 

“Everyone should at least have a chance to speak,” Sewer Bard said. “After all, it’s only after we’ve heard everyone’s piece that we can make a truly fair decision.”

 

Qube didn’t know how she felt about this kind of group decision making. Sure, getting everyone’s opinions was important, but at the end of the day it was the job of the leader to make the decision, not the role of the masses. That was why kings and queens worked so well — they were trained to make decisions for everyone.

 

This was like the Lava Slimes and voting all over again!

 

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get everyone’s thoughts, so that she could better convince them to follow her plan, which was still to murder the pharaoh for his hubris. So Qube allowed the spectre of democracy to bloom, there in the pits of the pyramid.

 

“My opinion has not changed,” the Mage said thoughtfully. “If there was some way of communicating with this pharaoh, then yes, I would advise as such. As it is, however…” he trailed off, staring at the scales without really appearing to see them. “I would recommend we close the seal, and crush him,” he said finally. “Any remaining intact artefacts of value can be retrieved after we finish our quest. It is not worth endangering our mission for the sake of such an unknown.”

 

Qube gasped. “But you love knowledge!” she said. “To be willing to give that up just to keep the desert people safe—” she grasped the Mage’s hands “—you really are Good, Definitely Bad Guy!”

 

The Mage tried to pull his hands away.

 

“Yes, well,” he said, flustered, “at this point there is limited value to adding a potential threat to control over the kingdom, and I believe we are already powerful enough—so—ancient artefacts are notoriously durable—that is to say—I—my hands, please.” Qube released her grip of his hands, leaving him free to pull out a tome and start flipping through it.

 

“I must confess, I didn’t think you would hold that opinion,” Sewer Bard said, frowning at Definitely Bad Guy.

 

“Naturally, I would allow myself to be persuaded by any reasonable argument,” Definitely Bad Guy said stuffily, putting away his tome without having read a single word. The Mage then went and studied the seals on the tomb entrance, ignoring everyone.

 

“And what of you, fair woman of unutterable worth?” Sewer Bard asked, turning to Qube. “I have no doubt that you would wish to see this person freed, and given a fair trial, rather than be brutally murdered on the words of unknown people, without ever being given a chance to defend himself from their allegations.”

 

Qube hesitated. She hadn’t thought of it like that. That made it sound like they were doing something… Evil.

 

“Have you ever heard about this pharaoh before, or the people who live in the desert?” she asked the Bard. Sewer Bard hesitated, before shaking his head.

 

“It seems this man’s story has been lost to the sands of time,” he said, looking pleased with his poeticness. “I fear I know of nothing that would aid us in making the correct decision.”

 

Qube bit her bottom lip as she tried to logic out this problem. Every other Temple (except for the Shadow Temple) had given them a chance to talk to the final guardians, and try to get both sides of the story. How were they supposed to make decisions in a void? Sure, without Sewer Bard’s interjection, she would have naturally decided to murder the pharaoh, but he was right. He hadn’t been given a chance to speak.

 

“I think,” she said slowly, “that while the desert dwellers probably had very good reason to seal up the pharaoh, it wouldn’t be fair to make such a big decision without hearing both sides. Either we go outside the Temple, which I don’t know if we can even get out at this point due to the tunnel etc., and go find the desert dwellers and ask them for a way to get both sides, or we try and find some way to communicate with the pharaoh.”

 

Qube was aware of being watched. She turned and saw that the Chosen One was rubbing his chin while examining her.

 

“If I’m being honest,” he said, and Qube braced against having her opinion swayed by his words, “you’ve probably just put more thought into this than the Devs did.”

 

“Chosen One, this is serious!” Qube said. “This is no time for such jokes.”

 

“Sure,” the Chosen One said dryly. “Jokes.”

 

Qube shook her head at him reprovingly.

 

“I agree with our Healer,” Sewer Bard cut in. “I think she has raised a very good point, and we should seek to speak with the pharaoh. Following her idea to its logical conclusion, I propose we open the tomb, and remove any illusions or compulsions the pharaoh may be under. Then we can discuss things with him in a civilised manner, and see if diplomacy can win the day.”

 

The Chosen One gave a short bark of laughter.

 

“I don’t think he’s gonna be interested in talking to you,” he said, before pausing. “Although, given how crazy everything has been, who knows? Maybe he’d be down to chill.”

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The rest of the party waited a beat, as each of them tried to decipher the Chosen One’s gibberish or see if he would add anything to help shed light onto his strange language.

 

“Down to chill?” Qube took one for the team as she tilted her head at the Hero.

 

“Yeah, have you got a plan for if he doesn’t want to play ball with you, though?” the Chosen One asked.

 

“We’re not going to be playing—”

 

“If he doesn’t want to talk. What are you going to do if he doesn’t want to talk?” The Chosen One rudely cut off Qube.

 

“That is an excellent question, Noble Patron,” Sewer Bard said, flicking his hat back on his own head and making the over-large feather bounce. “That is the genius of this plan. If our esteemed Mage will finish examining the seal, he should be able to tell us whether or not we can, if diplomacy fails, complete the ritual and crush the pharaoh should he prove to be truly Evil.”

 

The Bard beamed in pride at his plan as the Chosen One opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He gave a small sigh, and then flicked his hand through the Save Point. He glanced at Qube, who smiled at him.

 

“Sure,” he said to her, practically ignoring Sewer Bard, “this is your gig. Let’s see what breaks when the improbable attempts the impossible!”

 

“Thank you for your faith in us, Chosen One!” Qube smiled, turning to the rest of the party. “Is everyone happy with this plan?”

 

“If it is what you wish for, then I am bound to follow,” Definitely Bad Guy said to her, glancing up from his study. His eyes pulsed red. “I have endeavoured to decipher the seals. From a purely surface level examination, it appears that there is nothing here that should prevent the Bard’s plan from working; presupposing, of course, that none of us are in the room when the seal is completed.”

 

“Whatever makes you happy, honey,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said, before pulling out her daggers. “But if he looks like he’s going to escape, I’m going to carve him up.”

 

Squiggles waved her tentacles about in what Qube took to be general agreement.

 

“Well, I think we’re all on the same page,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s open that tomb and make friends with the pharaoh!”

 

Qube wasn’t actually sure how successful they would be at befriending the pharaoh — she imagined that long-trapped leaders were slightly more difficult to befriend than giant sandstorm summoning scorpions, given the Chosen One had called the task impossible — but she had to project an aura of confidence. She wasn’t about to let the Chosen One think that they had completed nearly an entire Temple all on their own without learning how to be in charge!

 

And if the Devs were watching, this would be a good chance for them to see just how worthy the whole team was of ascension! 

 

And maybe, maybe, a tiny part of her, dwelling still in that ruined village, wanted them all to see the party’s strength and know a very frightening fact:

 

They would try to do the impossible.

 

And maybe, maybe, maybe…

 

They would succeed.

 

---

 

“Everyone stand back; I am about to take the crown,” Sewer Bard commanded the group. Everyone except for the Chosen One took a step back.

 

“Are you even able to grab that?” the Chosen One asked, wandering closer to the scales and their treasures. He eyed the golden crown, and Qube could practically hear the loot madness starting.

 

“Of course I am,” Sewer Bard scoffed, before composing himself. “I must ask you, Noble Patron,” he resumed his grandiose style of speaking, “to step back. Who knows what may occur when I take this crown, and break this ancient seal! It could be deadly!”

 

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be deadly!” Qube hurriedly reassured the Bard. “The poem said that their magic was weak, and they needed us to reinforce the seal, so I shouldn’t think they would have any energy left over for laying magical traps! Or, wait, did you see any runes that might be traps?” she suddenly turned and asked Definitely Bad Guy.

 

“There’s not gonna be any traps,” the Chosen One muttered from his spot near the scales. “Not that it would matter anyway.” He paused once he noticed everyone looking at him, and waved his hand at the group. “Never mind, ignore me! Pretend I’m invisible!” He looked at Qube, and grinned. “Just like —”

 

Qube glared at him.

 

“Invisibility,” she said, awfully, “is not to be taken lightly.”

 

“But you can commit so many crimes when you’re invisible!”

 

“We’re on the side of Good, Chosen One,” Qube gently reminded the Saviour of All Human and Human-Adjacent Beings. “We do not commit crimes.”

 

“Correct,” the Chosen One said, “everything we do is on the side of right, and saving the kingdom!” Qube gave up.

 

“Sewer Bard, please unleash the pharaoh,” she said, and, with only a second’s hesitation, the Bard grabbed the crown.

 

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