Prophecy Approved Companion

The lion looked blankly at the Chosen One.

“I accept whatever decision you make,” he said eventually, bowing his head. The Chosen One turned to Qube.

“That sounds like a yes to me,” he said cheerfully. He looked down at Qube, and scratched at his cheek as he seemed to consider something. “It’s not a reflection on you, if you can’t… get through to him,” he said, surprisingly gently. “Changing people… it takes a lot of time.”

“I know, Chosen One,” Qube replied. “Now please give us some space.” He hesitated, as if about to say more, then grimaced and stood back. Qube, mindful of her other [Heal]ing experiences, also kept a distance as she cast.

“[Heal],” she whispered.

The effect of the spell was not as violent as the last few times, perhaps because the lion was bowed in submission. He shuddered, full body, his lips pulling back in a snarl and his claws flexing, but it subsided relatively quickly, returning him to his original pose.

“Hello,” Qube said, as he continued to keep his head down. He looked up, jerking back in surprise at her (from his perspective) sudden appearance. He quickly scanned around the room, and scooted back when he saw Sexy Screamy Spider Lady, and Squiggles. He stared at the Chosen One, seeking some explanation, who just shrugged.

“Hey, don’t ask me,” the Chosen One said. “I just lead them.”

“Don’t worry; I’m here to help,” Qube said, smiling as she realised that, this time, it was completely true. The lion kept looking between the Chosen One and her, and something about its movements seemed strange. After a few seconds she realised: the lion didn’t move like the griffins. The back and forth twitching, the nervous way he ruffled up his fur, these were the mannerisms of the Flitter Folk, rather than the languid grace that characterised the movement of his birth family.

Qube wasn’t entirely sure why the lion didn’t talk like either of his families, though. Maybe it was the Storm’s influence there?

“Are you my judgement?” the lion asked her, and he sounded so frightened that Qube nearly cried.

“No,” she said. “I’m here to tell you that you don’t have anything to —” she paused, considering the theft and violent attacks, “that you don’t deserve to be severely punished.”

The lion considered this, his eyes darting back and forth.

“You are going to transform me?” he asked.

“You don’t need to transform into anything,” Qube said passionately. “We can talk to your families, make them accept you for who you are. They’re the ones who are wrong for rejecting you!”

“You’re not going to transform me? Then you have chosen to slay me. Very well, I accept your decision.”

“No! There will be no slaying!” Qube cried.

But it was pointless. No matter how eloquently or passionately Qube argued her case, the lion seemed unmoved from his position. Sometimes she would think that she’d gotten through to him, that there was a crack in his thinking, but he would always revert back to “transform or terminate.”

Even when she rallied around the others, and demanded they talk to him about it, it was pointless. Definitely Bad Guy just told him to transform, preferably into a griffin, and then submit to him for experimentation, Sewer Bard told him that if he faced his death with dignity the Bard would write an epic saga about it that would move all who hear it to tears, Sexy Screamy Spider Lady told him to become his true self (which he didn’t understand at all, but was the closest to what Qube wanted them to say), and Squiggles just kept grabbing at his feathers and drooling on him.

Qube wanted to cry.

She knew there had to be a way to fix this. It was so stupid! So shallow! There had to be a way to make them all understand that the lion didn’t need to be a griffin or a bird! He could just be him! He could jump high enough that he could practically fly, but also there were flying spells he could learn, and —

She turned and lurched towards where the two feathers were continuing to bathe in oddly directional sunlight.

That was it! She could find some way to make him fly, and then both sides would have to admit that he was just as good as both of them! That was why the lion had tried to summon wings through the Storm, right? He hadn’t tried to summon being a griffin or being a bird through the Storm, no! He’d tried to summon flight! He hadn’t even been that far off from succeeding! The loot dropped by the Storm — the two separate items, it had probably been trying to find some way to combine them to make the lion both at once! If it had truly been working to fulfil the lion’s best interests, it would only make sense! Why else would it only want feathers?

All she had to do was study the two magical artefacts, with maybe some help from Definitely Bad Guy, and she would be able to determine how to give him wings!

“Hey, what are you doing?” The Chosen One, who had been searching among the benches for “secrets,” looked up as she reached the feathers.

“Don’t worry, Chosen One; I have an idea!” Qube said and, reaching out, grasped the two feathers.

She saw his lips move, but couldn’t hear his reply.

The Storm was inside her.

She dragged her gaze over to the lion, her eyes moving as if through a hurricane, and she saw two branching trees of equations emanating from him. Chunks of numbers were missing from each line, erased, but she followed each tree up until she saw two icons floating above him. On the left tree, a griffin. The right, a bird.

From those two idealised creatures, lines, letters, and numbers descended, some lines beautiful and complete, others with segments crudely ripped out, both combining into the pitiful creature before her that was at once both and neither.

The missing sections were in the feathers.

She felt them flow through her, using her as a conduit, rushing to fill in those missing gaps, to make both trees perfect, feeding down from each icon into the lion.

They were going to erase him.

“No!” she screamed, and she reached into the numbers, grabbing the lion and pulled. “He is their equal!”

She wrenched him up, the branches still attached, and wedged him directly between the two icons, so that the griffin and bird were not above him, but side by side. The equations completed, the force of them so strong that Qube was blown back, severing her connection.

---

She awoke to discover the Chosen One crouched over her, his eyes wide with fear.

“Are you okay?” he nearly shouted, as she looked at him. “What happened? What did you do?”

“I’m fine,” she said automatically, before checking to see if that was true. She cautiously sat up, to discover everyone crowded around her.

“Stand back, give her some air,” the Chosen One said. The others looked at him in confusion. There was plenty of air; they were in an Air Temple. Nevertheless, they stood back, allowing Qube to see that the lion was gone. In his place were the three Bestowal pedestals.

“What happened to the lion?” she asked.

“That is a great question,” the Chosen One said. “He disappeared after you did… whatever that was. Then those showed up. So… I think that means we did it? You did it,” he corrected.

“Oh,” Qube said, somewhat dubiously. Maybe the lion would be outside? Had she teleported him? Or worse, made him invisible?

“We’ll probably see him after we go through the portal.” The Chosen One seemed to pick up on her worries. She smiled at him, then went to inspect the pedestals.

Similar to the others, they matched the decor of the Temple, black clouds with streaks of lightning engraved in it. The potion vial, sword, and carrot were stamped on their respective pedestals, only this time the Chosen One didn’t stand in front of the sword.

Instead he was standing in front of the potion vial, looking thoughtful.

“Hey,” he asked Qube, “what would happen if I tried to get a spell?”

“I fear you would be unable to use it,” Definitely Bad Guy replied, cutting off whatever Qube had been about to say. She glared at him. Sure, as Mage Advisor, he was far more qualified to answer than her, but still! She was the guiding light here! Definitely Bad Guy, however, didn’t seem to notice her displeasure, and instead continued in a lecturing tone:

“While you would have learned the spell, you would lack the mana to actually cast it, thus rendering it useless. As a Fighter, your mana is shaped towards enhancing your combat abilities. It simply would not be compatible with any actual spellcasting.”

“What if I just chugged a bunch of mana potions?” the Chosen One asked with more respect than he normally afforded the Mage.

“Using a mana potion would be pointless, as it cannot refill past your capacity.”

The Chosen One curled his lip in disgust.

“These things are too rare for me to waste… but I really want to…” he stopped, and looked at Qube.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Qube blinked at him.

“Me?” she asked, rather stunned. “Well, whatever you think is best, of course! Although I do think my talents would best be utilised if I took the spell…” The Chosen One nodded thoughtfully, as if that had been what he’d been expecting her to say. “I would also like a chance to examine them before we use them, if that’s possible.”

“Wait a second,” the Chosen One said. He looked from her, to the rest of the party, then to where the lion had been. “What do the rest of you want?” he asked.

A part of Qube was vaguely pleased to see that the others didn’t seem to know how to respond to the Chosen One’s sudden thrusting of responsibility on them any better than she did.

“Well, my dear, as a Fighter, you would naturally be more suited to the sword,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said smoothly.

“The carrot could be useful for your stamina,” Sewer Bard said in the same tone.

“The potion vial would be useless to you, so I would recommend the sword or carrot,” Definitely Bad Guy intoned.

Qube wondered what it said about her as a companion that her first thought hadn’t been how best to help the Chosen One pick the best one for himself, but rather which spell would be best for herself! She hung her head in shame.

The Chosen One gave an annoyed sigh.

“Yeah, thanks for the hints, but I mean which ones do you all want to have for yourselves? Who do you think should get what? Come on, give me something to work with here.”

The three party members stood totally still for a second, then all turned to look at each other.

“Forgive me, Noble Patron,” Sewer Bard said, giving the lowest bow Qube had ever seen him give the Hero. “Naturally, it did not occur to one as humble as myself that you would be thinking of bestowing such an honour upon me.”

Qube wasn’t sure whether or not Sewer Bard was judging her, in a very Bardic fashion. She frowned at him anyway, just in case. She was a harsh enough judge of herself. She didn’t need him joining in.

“Yeah, I’m trying out this new thing called —” the Chosen One bit off whatever he’d been about to say and took a deep breath. “Look,” he continued in a calmer manner. “I’m trying to include you all in this thing. I’m trying, ok?”

He looked at Qube, as if seeking her approval. Qube smiled at him and nodded enthusiastically. Their teamwork had really been improving! Now even their leader was seeing himself as part of the team!

Things were really coming together!