Chapter 182:  Book Three Chapter Forty One: TT_Bard_Room

Leaving the Chosen One to talk to his Save Point, Qube returned to the mausoleum. Even though the Hero had told the rest of the party to wait there for him, she would have expected that, given how long their conversation had taken, at least one of them would come to check on them. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to resist.

 

But the trio capable of speech weren’t eagerly awaiting the return of the Saviour and his Companion. Instead they were engaged in a heated debate.

 

“—And I’m telling you that if you want me to join you, then you need her too,” Sexy Screamy Spider Briar was saying passionately. “I won’t go behind her back.”

 

“To tell her is to tell the— ah, our delicate flower returns,” Sencha Bard cut himself off as he noticed Qube at the entrance. It took her a long time to reach them. They were still clustered around the “Bard” drawer, none of them having moved.

 

“Hello,” Qube replied cheerfully. She waited a beat to see if they would continue their discussion, but instead they just silently watched her as she approached them. They looked rather sheepish, like they’d been caught doing something they weren’t meant to. “What were you talking about?” she asked.

 

The trio exchanged glances.

 

“We were discussing the possibilities available to us when we ascended,” Definitely Bad Guy said. The two more diplomatically-focused party members looked at him in surprise.

 

Oh! That was right, the whole group would need to plan what to do once they reached the Devs’ realm, especially if they weren’t going to be busy fighting Evil Devs or being people’s companions.

 

“Yes,” the Bard cut in, “and, obviously, we’re aware that the Chosen One is constrained by the limitations the Devs have placed on him, so we wanted to discuss it amongst ourselves before committing to any action.”

 

“He may be compelled to report our conversation to the Devs,” Definitely Bad Guy added. Sencha Bard shot him a warning look. 

 

“And I was simply pointing out that if they wanted my help in any of their plans, we had to get you on board, my love,” Sexy Screamy Spider Briar said, flicking back her hair. Part of it caught on her back fur. “Our sisterhood demands nothing less.”

 

“But we didn’t want to cause any conflict between the Chosen One and yourself,” Sencha Bard said, once again cutting off a party member. “So we were seeking the best way to approach the matter.”

 

“That and you may feel more loyalty to the Chosen One than us,” Definitely Bad Guy said. Sencha Bard scowled.

 

“Perhaps it would be best if only one of us did the speaking,” the man said through gritted teeth. “We don’t have much time, so I shall do the talking, and just stick to the facts.”

 

“What facts?” the Chosen One asked as he entered the mausoleum. Sencha Bard gave a frustrated snarl, his fingers curling into claws, before all negative emotion was wiped from his demeanour.

 

“The facts that we may very well be dealing with my future self in a moment,” the Bard lied.

 

Qube was feeling a bit off-balanced by the whole conversation. Sencha Bard was lying to the Chosen One, and no one else was speaking up. They’d said they weren’t ready to have this conversation with him, but still, this felt wrong.

 

“True that,” the Hero said, not noticing he had been lied to by one of his companions. He jogged up to them and stopped next to the red-gemmed drawer. As he got closer, Qube noticed grim lines around his mouth that hadn’t been there before, as if he was holding back anger. It didn’t seem to be directed at any of the party, or that he’d noticed the deception. Rather it was as if he was annoyed by whatever he’d learned from the Devs.

 

She expected him to raise the topic of their ascension to the Devs’ realm, and the Golden Prophecy, but instead the Hero was looking at the wall. Qube was glad for his discretion. She needed a bit of time to try and piece everything together inside her own mind, and figure out what she wanted, never mind the fact that the rest of the party seemed to want to discuss their future away from the Hero.

 

“All right,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “shall we take a peek into the memories of the sewers?”

 

“I wasn’t raised in the sewers,” Sencha Bard said sourly, but the Chosen One had already touched the panel and revealed a small, battered lute. As soon as the Fighter brushed against it, everything fell away, and the party was once more catapulted into a memory.

 

***

 

The party landed in Cobbletown. It looked almost identical to the Cobbletown they’d just left, only the colours were much duller, the inn wasn’t on fire, and there wasn’t a screaming Evil Emperor in the middle of the plaza. Instead, just visible at the entrance to an alleyway, there was a small urchin walking away from them. Without hesitation, the Chosen One followed the mysterious child.

 

“Wow, yeah, they really got lazy with the recycling,” the Chosen One said, looking around.

 

“Cobbletown hasn’t aged a day!” Qube said, impressed at the city planning. The only difference she noticed was the flags fluttering in the breeze. Given how the whole flag situation had panned out the last time they’d been in Cobbletown, she was primed to notice them. Instead of the snapping, cheerful triangles of fabric she now knew so well, they were ragged, thin strips of drooping cloth. It was an odd detail that was swept away when they caught up to the mysterious child and she recognised the scraggly urchin.

 

“Huh, you were an unfortunate-looking kid, weren’t you?” the Chosen One asked, only to be drowned out by the squealing of both  Sexy Screamy Spider Briar and Qube.

 

“He’s so cute!” Sexy Screamy Spider Briar practically purred in pleasure.

 

“Look at the baby Sewer Bard! I mean, Sencha Bard!” Qube hurriedly corrected herself. “He’s so small!”

 

The child version of Sencha Bard was, indeed, small. His cheeks were gaunt, and his blond hair was pulled back into a short ponytail.

 

“Hewwo, m’wady,” he said, stopping and bowing to Sexy Screamy Spider Briar. “Hewwo, stwangers.” The baby Bard gave Squiggles a dubious look, but politely bowed to her too.

 

“You’re like, ten; why are you still talking like that?” the Chosen One asked the child.

 

“Would you wike a song?” the pre-pubescent child asked the Hero, ignoring his rudeness.

 

“I don’t get it,” the Chosen One said, looking around. “No one’s attacked him yet. Shouldn’t there be memory-bullies for us to defeat or something?” He turned and looked at Sencha Bard. “Do you remember this at all?” he asked.

 

“I remember my youth in Cobbletown, yes,” Sencha Bard said cagily. 

 

“But, like, do you remember this encounter?” the Hero pressed. He looked down at the child Bard attempting to take Sexy Screamy Spider Briar’s claw. “Sexy— uh, Lady Briar, do you remember us coming into the Temple when you were training as a kid?”

 

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The Hunter half-lidded her eyes, trying to recall.

 

“I remember that occasionally Father would bring people in to help me,” she said eventually. “But I don’t remember anyone as handsome as this group joining me.” She looked uncomfortable for a second, before fully opening her eyes again. “And I certainly don’t remember anyone like me talking to me.” She raked a claw down her thorax in a broad gesture.

 

“Hm,” the Hero said, narrowly observing her. 

 

“I very much doubt these are real memories,” Definitely Bad Guy said. “They are merely projections of our former or future lives.”

 

“I dunno,” the Chosen One said, surprisingly going against the former Mage Advisor’s expertise. “Depends how they’ve done it. Hey, Sing-Song, close your eyes for a second.”

 

The Bard obediently closed his eyes.

 

“Okay, kid, look at this,” the Chosen One said, holding up three fingers. The child obediently looked. “Now, Sing-Song, without opening your eyes, how many fingers do you think I’m holding up?”

 

“I have no idea, Noble Patron,” Sencha Bard said, reverting to his old name for the Chosen One in his longsufferingness. 

 

“Come on man, think! Really focus on it!” the Chosen One ordered. The Bard gave a deep sigh, but obliged, his face scrunching up in concentration.

 

“I don’t know, three?” he guessed.

 

The Chosen One put down his fingers. “Hm, could just be a lucky guess,” he said, disappointed. “Okay, how about now? How many fingers am I holding up?”

 

“Probably one,” the Bard said with another sigh, his eyes still closed.

 

“Okay, yeah, you’re definitely guessing,” the Chosen One said grumpily.

 

“But he was right!” Qube said, surprised at the Hero not being pleased by whatever hypothesis he was working on coming together.

 

“Yeah but he was clearly just guessing,” the Hero said, still moody. “Pity. I was kinda hoping to see if we could made some kind of time paradox by kill—giving the kid some knowledge and seeing if it impacted Sencha Bard.”

 

Qube gave the Hero a very long, steady look. She glanced down at the kid, who didn’t seem able to see or hear her.

 

“Chosen One,” she hissed at him. “We’re not killing a child. What about your ethics?”

“Wha— I never said anything about killing anyone!” the Chosen One said, sounding almost genuinely offended. “Who said anything about seeing if we could erase the current Sencha Bard by murdering his younger self? You would have me slay this innocent, odd-looking child? You’re a Healer! I’m astonished at your bloodthirsty thoughts. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

 

For a second Qube was caught up in his indignation and felt the urge to apologise, before she remembered who she was talking to.

 

“You know, Chosen One,” she said sweetly, “I could still learn how to curse people. You were worried about me being able to defend myself, after all.”

 

The child version of Sencha Bard, who she supposed she should just think of as mini-Sencha until she thought of something better, didn’t seem terribly frightened by a stranger he’d just met causally discussing murdering him with thin air.

 

Adult Sencha Bard, on the other hand, had now opened his eyes and was just looking at the Hero sourly.

 

“Your sense of humour, Noble Patron, sometimes leaves much to be desired,” he said crisply.

 

“Aw man, I’m back to being a Noble Patron again am I?” the Chosen One said ruefully. “Don’t worry Sing-Song, I wouldn’t actually do that. Despite what our Healer thinks, I do actually have some ethics.”

 

“I never said you didn’t!” Qube replied hotly, before seeing the Hero grin and realising she’d once again fallen for his tricks. She huffed. “Well, anyway, what are we supposed to do— oh!”

 

Small Sencha had stopped trying to woo the arachnid towering over him, and had wandered over to one of the large houses that backed onto the alleyway. Qube recognised one of the houses as the one full of skeletons they’d burned down when they first arrived in Cobbletown. The urchin was staring intently at something through a gap in the stone wall.

 

“Wook,” he said to the Chosen One, “isn’t it pwetty?” He pointed at the hole he’d just been looking through, in case the Hero had somehow missed it.

 

The Chosen One walked over to the wall and knelt down to the peephole before hesitating. 

 

“If something appears of this peephole and spooks me, I’m going to kill someone,” he announced to the world at large. “Don’t think I won’t. I will straight up rip this off me,” he said, tapping his temple.

 

“Do you think it could be a trap?” Qube asked worriedly, trying not to glare at the small Sencha. She didn’t hear any battle music, but then, would she until the trap was sprung? No, the music was what helped them determine if something was a threat or not, which meant it was on their side, and would obviously warn them if the small, underfed child meant them harm. 

 

“I’m just saying. I will lose my [snacks].” The Hero dubiously eyed the wall.

 

“Here, [Lesser Shield],” she cast, wrapping her mana around the Hero before he bravely peeked through a hole in the wall.

 

Now magically protected from spooks, the Chosen One looked through the hole at whatever the child had been staring at. After a minute, where Qube was worried he’d been paralysed by spooks, the Hero leaned back on his heels and examined small Sencha.

 

“There’s a lute inside that house,” the Hero said, then looked at the Bard and pointed at his instrument. “That lute. I think we have to steal it.” He looked at Qube and grinned.

 

“Time to rob a house!” he said happily.

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