Prophecy Approved Companion

The Chosen One led the way inside the Royal Infirmary. The building was smaller inside than it appeared from the outside, with several occupied beds in the lobby. The beds’ occupants looked like a mix of farmers, guards, and villagers, all of them injured.

“Water. Please, water,” one of them said, reaching out towards the Chosen One.

“It hurts,” a guard moaned, holding his arm. Crouched next to him was the most beautiful woman Qube had ever seen. Dressed all in white with long, trailing sleeves and a fashionable hood, she looked like the ultimate Healer, so good she didn’t even have to worry about getting her sleeves dirty.

“You’ll feel better soon,” the Healer said in a soothing voice. She looked up at the Chosen One and smoothly rose to her feet. “I am the head Healer of this place. How can I help you?”

“I’m here to — huh. Actually…” The Chosen One stopped whatever he’d been about to say, and instead pulled out the medallion given to him by the Exiled Princess that had first granted them access to the Royal Gardens. He held it up in front of the Healer. “Does this do anything?”

The Healer’s face softened. She looked around, then stepped towards the Hero.

“You must be the Chosen One,” she said in a low tone. “I am the White Mage. The Exiled Princess told me that you might need my assistance. I’ll need your help with something before I can join you, though.”

The Chosen One nodded to himself, as if he’d just confirmed a theory.

“Hey,” he said, taking a step back and gesturing to the full party. “Tell me, what do you see?”

The White Mage didn’t seem at all put off by this strange request.

“I see a wood elf, a human, yourself,” she frowned slightly at Squiggles, “and an otter?” She continued looking at Squiggles curiously. Squiggles opened her mouth wide, showcasing her rows of healthy teeth. The White Mage started to look mildly concerned.

“Checks out,” the Chosen One said. Qube looked from the White Mage, to the Chosen One, then back again.

“It does?” Qube asked the Chosen One.

“Yup,” the Chosen One replied nonchalantly. He reached out and tweaked a stray lock of Qube’s hair. “I’ll leave you to figure out how, though. Wouldn’t want to spoil your fun.”

Qube’s mind furiously went to work trying to figure out how, exactly, this whole scenario made sense.

So, naturally, she was invisible. Squiggles wasn’t an otter, but maybe the White Mage, being a city-dweller, didn’t know many aquatic animals and had just picked the most adorable thing she could think of. Given Squiggles was the cutest team pet ever, this was to be expected. The fact that she hadn’t named two humans was strange, though. She’d definitely looked at Sewer Bard, but hadn’t even glanced at Definitely Bad Guy.

Oddly enough, Definitely Bad Guy didn’t seem upset about being ignored by the White Mage. Given he was a Mage who specialised in fire and curses, it made sense that he and the Healer Mage wouldn’t exactly be the best of friends. But still, it seemed very rude of the White Mage to completely ignore him.

This was assuming, of course, that she and Definitely Bad Guy knew each other. They were both high ranking individuals in the city (Qube assumed that a Head Healer trusted by the Exiled Princess would be high ranking), so it would be reasonable to assume that they at the very least knew of each other.

Or maybe she was actually being kind, and was trying not to blow his cover. Given he was a double agent secretly working for the Royals, it would make sense that his allies wouldn’t exactly draw attention to the fact that he was walking around town with the person destined to defeat his supposed master.

Something felt wrong about this conclusion, but Qube didn’t have time to examine why before the White Mage started talking again.

“I would be more than happy to help you in your quest, Chosen One, but I will not leave my patients. I just need a few herbs from the Royal Gardens, and I will be able to make the potions necessary to heal them.”

Qube stepped up to the patients, examining them. She couldn’t actually see anything wrong with any of them. Even the man holding his arm didn’t seem to be bleeding in any way, although there was blood splattered over him. He was just holding a perfectly normal looking arm. The man crying for water seemed pale, but otherwise healthy. Was this some kind of rare disease? Surely all the White Mage would have to do would be to [Heal] them all. She couldn’t be worried about running out of mana; she had plenty of staff around and she could afford to take her time.

Why, if she had permission, Qube was certain she could have everyone here up and about with a few [Lesser Heal]s.

“But until I get those potions, I won’t leave. I’m sure you understand.”

Then the White Mage hit them all with a Gentle Smile, and Qube knew she was hopelessly outclassed.

Qube had studied good bedside manner. She’d practiced smiling in a gentle and understanding way, with several different variations to convey subtle moods. She had spent her entire life learning how to be a kind and compassionate companion.

And she had nothing compared to the White Mage. The smile that bathed the group was warm, personal, and caring, and conveyed the sense that the person behind it knew you would be totally reasonable about her minor request. If, somehow, the notion of saying no to the person smiling in such a way somehow crossed your mind, you would instantly dismiss it as too cruel to even contemplate.

If Qube hadn’t been on a quest to save the world, she would have instantly thrown herself at the feet of such an emotional master and begged to be her apprentice. If she had such a smile, the Chosen One would have no choice but to happily follow her every suggestion! No one, not even the Saviour of All, would have the mental fortitude to withstand such a smile! It was impossible!

“Urgh, okay, can you stop smiling at me like that? It’s kinda weirding me out,” the Chosen One said, putting his hand in front of the White Mage’s face.

There was a moment of silence where, if they’d been able to see the White Mage’s expression, Qube would have been interested to see if the White Mage was sporting the traditional First Exposure to Chosen look. As it was, she was too stunned by the Chosen One’s resilience to even check behind his hand.

“Whatever makes you more comfortable, Chosen One,” the White Mage said in a voice as sweet and smooth as pure honey. “I have, I hope, arranged my expression into one more pleasing to you.”

The Chosen One lowered his hand. The White Mage hit him with an Understanding Smile. Subtle amusement, friendship, and overall affection — Qube practically reeled from the sheer power behind her technique!

“That’s even worse!” the Chosen One yelped, covering her face again. “That's the face she makes when she’s really mad at me!”

Wait a minute… Qube glared at the Chosen One. He pointed at her with his free hand.

“Yeah! That’s the face I know and love!” he crowed. “Do that one, do the cross face,” he instructed the head Healer of the Royal Infirmary who had agreed to help them on their sacred mission to save the kingdom.

He took away his hand. The White Mage was not exactly glaring at him, but there was a certain tightness around the eyes and mouth that showed she was finding the person destined to overthrow the Evil Emperor was being just the tiniest bit difficult.

“Close enough,” the Chosen One said, satisfied.

“As I was saying, Chosen One,” she continued, with only the tiniest strain in her voice indicating the self control she was exercising. “I will just need a few ingredients from the Royal Gardens before I can join you in your quest. Please return when you have them.”

“Chosen One, ask her what’s wrong with the patients,” Qube hissed, unable to contain her curiosity anymore.

“So what’s wrong with these people?” the Chosen One instantly asked.

“They are sick and injured,” the White Mage replied, as if it was patently obvious.

“Why can’t she [Heal] them?” Qube asked.

“Why don’t you [Heal] ‘em?” the Chosen One transcribed with (for him) shocking accuracy.

“Because I need the ingredients,” the White Mage said in the tone of voice one uses when speaking with a particularly stupid child.

“Why?” Qube asked.

“Why?” the Chosen One asked.

“Because they are sick and injured,” the White Mage gave a small, rigid smile, then turned away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to my patients. Please return when you have the ingredients.”

“Can I try and [Heal] them?” Qube asked the Chosen One. “Oh, also, if she has someone free, she should get them to go and [Heal] the skin conditions of the people in the Royal Observatory. And probably look around for other people who might not have the time to come into the Royal Infirmary. Actually, wait, if the Royal Infirmary is inside the Royal Gardens, and we needed a medallion to enter, how do regular people come to the Royal Infirmary? How did these injured people get here? Why do you need a medallion to get to the Infirmary? Surely it should be open to the public? It’s right in the middle of the Gardens! Chosen One, please ask her —”

“Okay, yup, those are all great questions,” the Chosen One said, spinning her around and gently pushing her towards the other party members. “Tell you what, you go with the others and get them to ask all the people here all the questions you want, and I’ll be listening, but I’m just gonna be looking around.”

“What for?” Qube asked.

“Um,” the Chosen One hesitated. “I’m gonna see if the staff want to give me medical supplies. For our journey. For free. So, y’know, I’ll be around! Just checking out some stuff,” he paused, as something Qube had said filtered through.

“Wait, what skin conditions? They’re not all zombies or something at the Royal Observatory are they?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No, they just have acne, and other such things,” Qube replied. She pondered for a moment. “She might want to send a male Healer though. They didn’t seem to have much experience with women.”

The Chosen One rolled his eyes.

“Seriously?” he asked the sky. “You guys are nerds and you want to be pulling this? No one appreciates self-deprecating humour! It’s not funny! Half of you are chicks! It doesn’t even work!” He threw up his hands and stormed over to a medical cabinet, which he immediately opened and started rummaging through.

Qube stared up at the sky, shocked by this new revelation about the devs.

...Half of the devs were baby chickens?

Truly, the world was a mysterious place.

“Sewer Bard, Sexy Screamy Spider Lady, can you please — Sexy Screamy Spider Lady, please get out of the support structure,” Qube said, seeing her companion phased half in one of the sandstone pillars at the head of the guard with the injured arm’s bed. The Hunter pouted, then wriggled until the pillar released her from its grip.

As she was freed, she stumbled, one of her arms catching the guard and sending him rocketing off the bed and straight into another pillar, where he started rapidly spinning, still moaning. Qube shrieked, then grabbed at him, accidentally ripping off one of his shoes and causing it to fling itself onto a tray full of potions.

“He’s inside the pillar!” Qube screamed, having flashbacks to the Bear Mage. The tray full of potions started pinging around the lobby, shattering everywhere. The man started rotating faster, vibrating up and down the pillar. The Chosen One looked up from his looting just as a potion bottle smacked into one of the farmers, causing him to start sliding sideways into the wall.

“What did you do?” he asked incredulously.

“Nothing!” Qube yelled, at the same time as Sexy Screamy Spider Lady replied, “I don’t know!” so distressed she didn’t even make an innuendo. As the farmer slid into the wall he knocked a metal tray with several medical instruments on it, causing a scalpel to fly through the air and embed itself in the cabinet just to the left of the Chosen One’s eye. The Chosen One froze for a second, then grabbed everything from the drawer.

“Run!” he shouted, and the party nobly fled, leaving only chaos in their wake.