Chapter 50: Chapter Fifty: Lake Fear

The fish folk reached up to Qube’s waist, with about half of their height made up of thin, disturbingly human legs. Long, gangly arms clutched various weapons, mostly spears and tridents. Their eyes bulged alarmingly and, although they had no eyelids, occasionally there would be a wet flitting sound like they were blinking at the adventuring party.

 

The largest fish, clearly delineated as the leader by their dapper top hat and the sparkliness of their trident, stepped forward.

 

“Welcome, Dry Landers!” it burbled. Qube wasn’t sure how it made such an underwater sound on land, or how all of the villagers were glistening wet, like they’d just come out of the water.

 

The Chosen One shoved Sewer Bard forward with practiced ease. 

 

“You deal with this,” he said, and wandered over to a wooden barrel overflowing with dead fish. For some reason the moonlight seemed to pick out that particular barrel, making the fish scales glisten.

 

“Hail, and well met,” Sewer Bard bowed to the fish leader. “We have come to defeat the evil that lurks in the heart of Lake Fear. We humbly beg your escort to the Temple.”

 

Wait, the place in front of them was called Lake Fear? By the Words, what kind of name was that? Also, how had Sewer Bard known that, and why hadn’t he told them? On top of that, why was he getting the fish people to escort them? Qube didn’t remember being consulted on that!

 

Not that Qube had a problem with the giant walking fish that smelled, frankly, awful, helping them out; she just liked to be included in the decision-making process.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Chosen One lift up the lid of the barrel and dig around through the dead fish. Several expressions raced across his face: disgust, impressed, more disgust, and finally elation. He pulled out his hand, holding up a shiny golden coin.

 

“I knew that was way too obviously placed!” he crowed, shoving the coin into his pocket. The coating of slime from the dead fish faded rapidly from his hand.

 

“Fisher Finn, how do we know we can trust these Dry Landers?” a smaller fish loudly asked the top-hat-wearing leader. It lacked the headwear and armour of its compatriots, but instead had oddly-marked scales around its eyes, for all the world like eyelashes. Its lips, too, had strangely-hued scales, bright red and thick. Rows upon rows of fat pearls were strung around its neck, coming to rest on its shoulders, and it clutched a giant clam shell purse nervously.

 

“Callah Mary, the Deep Ones have been disturbed. We cannot fish to feed ourselves, and we cannot fight them. We must trust these Dry Landers, if we are to have a hope of surviving.”

 

“Do not scold her too harshly, Fisher Finn,” Sewer Bard flashed his most charming smile at Callah Mary, causing two round patches of pink to appear on her scaled cheeks. “Our slippery sister here is right to be cautious. But you have my word that there are none more honourable than my Noble Patron. He has already defeated two Temples, and has been selected by the Golden Prophecy to overthrow the Evil Emperor and restore peace to the land.”

 

“Hey,” the Chosen One hissed at Qube. “Check it out,” he said gleefully as he hooked his fingers under the barrel. Suddenly remembering the jar of eyeballs incident, Qube dashed to him.

 

“Chosen One, no!” she scolded the Saviour of All before he could overturn the barrel of dead fish onto the street. “They eat those! Possibly?”

 

“Fine,” the Chosen One sighed, letting go. “But I want to check out the houses before we go into the Water Temple.” He glanced at Sewer Bard and the fish folk, who were all watching this exchange. “You’re doing great,” he said to the Bard. “Keep it up. We’re gonna go loot while you sort them out.” Having issued his orders, the Chosen One grabbed Qube by the wrist and started dragging her over to the largest hut.

 

Definitely Bad Guy and Sexy Screamy Spider Lady followed the duo, while Sewer Bard stayed standing in front of the school of fish, who seemed unsure whom they should be looking at. Several of the fish folk turned to watch the Chosen One, before snapping back to Sewer Bard, then slowly pivoting around to the Chosen One again. A few of the villagers almost looked like they were dancing, constantly spinning around trying to keep both Sewer Bard and Chosen One in view.

 

Fisher Finn and Callah Mary seemed to be made of sterner stuff and, aside from their eyes having a tendency to drift towards where the Chosen One was climbing the rickety wooden stairs into their homes, stayed focused on Sewer Bard.

 

“Now, tell me everything you know about these Deep Ones,” Sewer Bard commanded with surprising authority. “I have heard tales of monsters that lurk in the murky depths of Lake Fear. Perhaps there is some correlation.”

 

His gaze flicked up to Qube just as the Chosen One dragged her into the largest hut. She gave him a reassuring smile, before being pulled inside.

 

“I do so love a man who knows how to take charge,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said as she followed Qube into the room.

 

“At least he is useful for something,” Definitely Bad Guy begrudgingly agreed. “I have no interest in wasting my precious conversation on lake-dwelling yokels.”

 

“Oh? Whom do you want to spend your conversation on?” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady peeped at the Mage through her eyelashes. She smirked knowingly as he clamped his mouth shut, deliberately not looking in anyone’s direction.

 

Qube frowned at the Hunter, whose smirk just deepened at the unspoken reprimand. Before she could speak, though, there was a squishy popping sound.  The companions broke out of their standoff to see their fearless leader standing in the middle of a mound of mud, surrounded by giant gelatinous eggs, his Sacred Sword covered in goo.

 

“Oops.”

 

---

 

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So it turned out Qube couldn’t [Heal] popped eggs. She had, at least, been able to stop the Chosen One from stuffing too many of the fish eggs into her backpack, and then was able to use the threat of the villagers finding out they’d been messing around with their eggs to get the Chosen One moving again.

 

As they emerged into the moonlight, Sewer Bard approached them, a scrawny young local trailing behind him, looking slightly confused.

 

“I have acquired a guide for us, Noble Patron,” Sewer Bard said, bowing slightly. The gangly youth, after an anguished look at Sewer Bard, also attempted a bow, violently jerking up and down. “Gilbert here will lead us to the Water Temple’s entrance, but he will be unable to join us inside. Only highly trained priests can enter the temple without incurring the Deep Ones’ wrath, it seems, and none remain.”

 

“What happened to their priest?” Qube asked Sewer Bard. An expressive grimace was his only reply.

 

“Well, time to get this [balderdash] started,” the Chosen One said cheerfully, striding past their disturbingly-moist guide towards the twisted pier. He flicked his hand through a Save Point, his deep blue waterproof attire seeming to absorb the orb’s light. After only a brief moment of hesitation, he jumped into the inky blackness of the lake. For a split second Qube felt an unreasoning panic take hold of her, before his head bobbed to the surface and he started doggy paddling towards the giant whirlpool in the middle of the lake.

 

The wet wayfarer, Gilbert, was right behind the Chosen One, followed closely by the rest of the party. With a deep breath, Qube gathered her courage and plunged into the water.

 

Her first thought was that it wasn’t as dark as she’d feared. Brightly-glowing coral was all around them, and several schools of luminous fish swirled around the Chosen One.

 

The second thought was that she had technically never actually swum before. 

 

Sure, she’d played around in the village’s river, but never above wading height. She would just roll up her robes and tuck the sides of it into her belt, hunt for shiny pebbles, and splash the Potential Chosen One. For some reason the memory of one hot summer day was particularly strong. She’d splashed around with her childhood friend, perfectly split a popsicle in half, and then they’d sat on the edge of the pier, toes just dipped in the water, and watched the fireflies hover over the river as dusk fell.

 

She wasn’t sure why, but something about that memory made a lump in her throat and tears sting her eyes. Or maybe that was all the water.

 

Also, she hadn’t bobbed up to the surface yet. She’d just sunk like a rock to the bottom of the lake. Frowning, she jumped. Nope, she couldn’t get any more height than she normally could when jumping. Maybe it was because she couldn’t put her outfit on correctly? No one else seemed to have the same problem.

 

Looking up, she could see the flailing feet of her party members. With a sigh, she started trudging along the lake bed, glancing up every now and then to make sure she was following the Chosen One. Occasionally she would see currents ripple through the schools of fish around the Hero; they seemed to be herding him to the Water Temple’s entrance. As they got closer to the whirlpool, the group sped up, now being aggressively pulled towards the entrance.

 

The Temple itself was the prettiest one Qube had seen so far. Large, delicate-looking towers stood steadfast against the drag of the whirlpool, and crumbling grooved columns guarded the sinkhole in the middle of what looked like an abandoned grand city. Giant stone stairs climbed from the lake bed to the paved city square, the middle of which was greedily drinking all of the lake’s water. 

 

Fortunately, walking was faster than swimming, which gave Qube the chance to clumsily drag herself up the oversized stairs and march over to where the water disappeared. Peering down into the hole, she could see nothing but black mist, common to so many entrances.

 

Glancing up again, she saw the exact moment that the Chosen One and the others were caught in the whirlpool. They suddenly went sideways, heads facing downwards and stuck out of the water as they rapidly spiralled down. Qube, jogging to keep pace with them, reached out a hand, stretching out to the Chosen One. He looked like he was screaming something at her, his face rather green, but she couldn’t hear him over the roaring of the falling water.

 

Then his hand caught hers, yanking her off of her feet, and they fell into the mist.

 

---

 

They didn’t fall past the mist. Once they hit the bank of blackness, it teleported them to the mossy stone floor in the middle of a giant coliseum. Qube blinked at the other party members, who didn’t appear to have dealt with the teleportation as well as she had. Probably from being thrown about so much by the whirlpool. She reached out to help the Chosen One up, only for him to jump to his feet.

 

He still looked pretty ill, though.

 

“[Heal],” Qube said, not wanting to risk failing to fully heal him again. The green look faded, and he gave her a watery smile. The others staggered as they stood, but didn’t seem as adversely affected as the Chosen One.

 

Giving him some space while he recovered, Qube looked around. It was as if the centre of the city had just sunk below the lake bed, forming the eye of the whirlpool. Rather than flooding the area, though, the water continued past them, filling up a giant cavern.

 

The coliseum had, fortunately for the party, landed on the top of an underground pillar. Below it, within the massive underground cave, there was a second city rapidly being flooded. Possibly that was why the city had fallen in the first place — it seemed like the first lost city had been built on the top of the second, deeper city, which would have resulted in significant structural instability.

 

Lake Fear City people probably should have filled in the Cavern City before building on top of it, Qube thought as she shook her head ruefully at their lack of foresight.

 

The torrent of water stopped them from directly jumping into the flooding city, but Qube noticed a set of stairs in the middle of the coliseum. 

 

“Shall we?” she asked the Chosen One, who had stumbled towards a Save Point and refreshed himself. With the touch of the blue sphere, he seemed to have recovered his good humour.

 

“Sure thing!” he said, rolling his shoulders. “Into the horrifying depths we go!”

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