The next room was, as expected, larger than the one before, with a platform in the middle. On it stood the shadow version of Sewer Bard. Qube, with her stellar pattern recognition, realised that in the next room there would most likely be a shadow version of either the Chosen One or herself.

At first glance, the shadow Sewer Bard looked practically identical to the real Sewer Bard. But there was something slightly… different about him. Part of it was the fact he was made out of living shadows, true, but it was also something deeper than that.

The fake Sewer Bard looked… simpler than their Bard. The shade looked scornful, true, but there was no twist of deep-rooted frustration that gave their Bard his edge. It was as if the shadow’s anger was painted on, whilst Sewer Bard’s had grown from the inside out.

It looked like an angry version of the Sewer Bard that Qube had first met, before all their adventures together.

Perhaps Sexy Screamy Spider Lady’s had looked similarly inexperienced compared to the real Hunter, but the difference in appearance had made it hard to notice. And Qube had been so surprised by the shadow Definitely Bad Guy that she hadn’t really looked for such subtleties.

Or maybe Sewer Bard was just much more weathered compared to his starting self.

The Temple must be engaging in some kind of mind-reading power, Qube suddenly realised. Not very effective, true, because it was pulling up old fears, but the idea that a being was reaching into their mind and finding out such personal information still felt incredibly invasive. Qube immediately cast about her own mind, trying to feel for any foriegn influence or mana. She couldn’t sense any, but maybe it was so much more powerful that she couldn’t detect it!

Meanwhile, the shade of Sewer Bard strummed a note on his shadow-lute.

“‘Tis a marvel indeed, that you have made it this far,” it sneered. “A failure as a Bard and Rogue, ‘tis a wonder you haven’t been left in the dust.”

Sewer Bard turned his back to the shade and looked down at the Chosen One.

“Noble Patron, what did you wish me to do?” he asked calmly.

“Knave! You dare turn your back to me?” the shade bellowed, drawing its rapier and thrusting it forward. “Face me! Perhaps I will let you live, that you may compose another saga that none shall listen to!”

Because he was facing them, Qube saw Sewer Bard’s nostrils flare at that remark. Other than that, though, he remained in what Qube recognised as his “politely diplomatic” mode. She beamed at him and feverishly nodded her support, proud that he wasn’t letting his inner fears cause him to become flustered. He caught her enthusiastic encouragement out of the corner of his eye and his mask softened into a slight smile before snapping back into diplomat mode as the Chosen One shrugged.

“I mean, you can try and stab him if you want, or use whatever spells you feel like as long as it’s not the siren song one. You wanna mess with him a bit or just get it over with? I kinda feel bad making you guys listen to this stuff. It’s a bit full on.”

“It’s no bother,” Sewer Bard replied, turning back to face himself. “Do as you will.” He hesitated, as if about to add more, but instead simply stepped aside from a strike by the shade. He pulled his own rapier out and attempted to counter the next strike, but it just passed through the shadow blade.

Said shadow blade bit deeply into Sewer Bard’s arm, blood spurting from the wound. He looked at it disinterestedly.

“That’s not fair!” Qube exclaimed. “[Lesser Shield]!” In an instant the Bard was protected, and Qube was mentally kicking herself for not immediately shielding him.

Sexy Screamy Spider Lady and Definitely Bad Guy started drifting over to lanterns on opposite sides of the room. They were really going to have to move it to be able to pull all the lanterns themselves. Qube started towards a spare rope. Maybe they would need Squiggles to help?

The shade, rapier still drawn, tracked Sexy Screamy Spider Lady’s progress around the room.

“A fair maiden,” it verbally oozed. “No doubt she has been subjected to your sad attempts at wooing. I pity her. We all know that your experience consists only of poorly repeating words written by those who have known what you have only dreamed. A Bard with nary a lover to his name — is there truly anything sadder?”

Qube heard a hissing sound and turned around to see Squiggles raised up on all her tentacles, mouth agape as she hissed at the shadow Sewer Bard. The real Sewer Bard’s polite mask fully disappeared as he turned and swept Squiggles a bow.

“Lady Squiggles your support is, as always, invaluable, but I beg of you, stay by the entrance. I could not bear anything to happen to you on my account.”

Squiggles hissed once more but complied, sulkily slorping her way to the now-closed archway they’d entered through.

“Okay, I don’t really feel like messing around with this one; it’s creeping me out,” Chosen One said, pulling a face. “Everybody get into position, pull-and-run on my mark. That means when I shout go,” he added to Qube.

“Of course, Chosen One,” she said, trying to act like she hadn’t just been about to ask him what his mark was.

“The future will tell who you will be,” the shade said, as Sewer Bard kept stepping aside his rapier. “Whether you struggle to continue on the orderly path of the unheard story teller, or give in to the urgings of your neglected thief skills.”

Sewer Bard said nothing, just waited as the rest of the party got into position.

“All right, everyone ready? Ready-set-go!” the Chosen One shouted. The other three pulled their ropes, then rushed to the ones on their right. All the lanterns were down with seconds to spare as the Chosen One threw his bent stick through one of the flames and sent it flying along its lantern-based circuit.

The instant the final lantern was lit, Sewer Bard sang the activation for [Haste] and, with a flurry of strikes, hit his shade in the arm, slashed it across the face, and finally pierced it through the heart.

Same as the other shades, it staggered and fell. As it did, Sewer Bard, his back to the others, pushed his rapier even deeper into its heart.

“Ignored,” it hissed, and evaporated.

Sewer Bard waited until the platform had settled into the ground before turning to the group. He looked completely calm.

“The entrance is open, Noble Patron,” he said, giving a shallow bow. “Shall we continue?”

“Sure,” the Chosen One said absentmindedly. He swiped a hand through a Save Point that had just appeared. “Looks like the next room will be fun.”

“I don’t think any of this has really been fun, Chosen One,” Qube said, glancing to see if the others were at all upset by his odd idea of fun. He just gave her a smile, and moved towards the newly arrived entrance. Qube dropped to Sewer Bard’s side.

“How are you feeling? That shade didn’t get to you at all!” she said, pleased. “Obviously because it was all not true. This is a very strange test.”

In one graceful movement Sewer Bard sheathed his rapier and bowed to Qube.

“Thank you, fair Healer,” he said, his face totally devoid of anything other than polite diplomacy. He started walking towards the entrance with the others.

Qube felt… strange. Like she hadn’t helped him.

“Are you — you do know that what it said was wrong, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly. “Lady Squiggles, will you be joining us?”

Squiggles, freed from her post by the old doorway, raced up to the group. Sewer Bard said something in an undertone to Sexy Screamy Spider Lady, which made her laugh.

Qube wasn’t laughing. She didn’t feel reassured at all. Sure, Sewer Bard had said he was fine, and he looked fine, but it didn’t feel fine.

She felt almost adrift. Even though he was, despite everything, a very dear companion of hers, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Sewer Bard had just lied directly to her face. She hurried up to the group.

“Sewer Bard,” she said, reaching out and catching one of his poofy sleeves. The rest of the group turned to watch, but she was too busy looking at his face to notice Definitely Bad Guy and Sexy Screamy Spider Lady’s shift in body language, or the Chosen One’s utter confusion at the sudden scene.

Qube suddenly realised she didn’t know what to say. Accuse him of having his feelings secretly hurt? Give him a speech about the importance of being honest to your friends? Demand he start crying so she could comfort him?

“Your arm,” she said at last, rather lamely. “Let me —”

He glanced down at his blood-covered arm, and then looked back at her.

“Thank you, fair Healer,” he said.

“[Lesser Heal],” she whispered.

She watched her mana dance over his arm, sinking into the unseen wound. The Chosen One watched with interest.

“Huh, he seems to be taking his first heal pretty well. Good job!” he said.

Sewer Bard ignored him. Instead he took Qube’s hand off of his arm and gave her a truly courtly bow, kissing the back of her hand. Qube went bright pink, Sexy Screamy Spider Lady gave a sound that was halfway between a shriek and a squeal, Squiggles raised herself back up onto her tentacle-tippy-toes in alarm, and Definitely Bad Guy accidentally set himself on fire.

“Thank you, fair Healer,” he said again, more sincerely this time. Qube, still flustered from everything that had just happened, gave an inarticulate reply and struggled not to wipe the back of her hand on her robe.

“Of course,” she said, a little too cheerfully. “What else are Healers for? Friends! I meant friends! Although I am a Healer as well, ha ha.”

Well. At least she hadn’t tee hee-ed. And the terrible sensation that something was very, very wrong with Sewer Bard had somewhat eased. She still felt as if he was dwelling behind a pane of ice, but she sensed she'd been able to reach him, at least a little.

“This… has been a very strange temple,” the Chosen One said as the group all tried to desperately return to their version of normality. He looked at Squiggles. “So did you have any insights into yourself or whatever when you ate that otter?” he asked. Squiggles started dancing. He narrowed his eyes. “Looks like a happy dance… maybe a yes?” he said uncertainly.

Squiggles danced harder, wriggling towards Sewer Bard and posessively slorping up his back before wrapping herself around his shoulders.

“I think that’s a yes,” the Chosen One said, still sounding unsure. He looked around at the group. “Okay, has anyone else got anything they want to get off their chest? Cuz this next one I’m going to be looking to have fun, since I won’t have to worry about shadow-me actually saying anything important.”

“Chosen One, how do you know it won’t be a version of me in the next room?” Qube asked. Her eyes widened. “Wait, does that mean it might spill all my fears?” she trembled, trying not to panic.

Oh no. Oh no. What if it told everyone how insecure she used to be about her position as the Chosen One’s Childhood Companion? And how jealous she used to be? Obviously she was now not at all possessive about her place in the world, but the Temple seemed to be pulling old fears and she didn’t want to have anyone’s feelings hurt by them realising how she had viewed each and every one of them as a threat to her at some point!

“Wait, you have secret fears?” the Chosen One asked her. “What are they?”

“Of course I have secret fears!” Qube said. “Like about me —” here she lowered her voice, “— not remembering certain things? And struggling with things. Everyone has something they’re worried about.”

“Yeah but that’s not your fault,” the Chosen One said. “That’s — other peoples’ fault.” He frowned. “None of that is your fault,” he repeated, almost sternly. “Look, I don’t think the next room will be you, but if it is, we’ll immediately murder you before you can talk about your fears, okay?”

Qube smiled, relieved by her best friend’s promise to kill her.

“Thank you, that would be lovely,” she said, and together they stepped into the next room.