It was dusk by the time they set off, the twin suns sinking into the horizon. The Chosen One had been, for him, remarkably on target, deciding to return to hand in the Light Temple item later in exchange for no shopping, and had only insisted on a small detour to drop off several jars full of sand he’d somehow acquired.

Mr. Igma had not appeared too pleased with this sale.

As soon as they were outside Cobbletown, the Chosen One summoned his faithful wyvern steed, Scaley-waley. Clambering aboard the permanently bored-looking lizard, he sat back in the saddle and stretched.

“So,” he asked Sewer Bard, who was trailing behind somewhat. The Bard sped up a bit, trying to get next to the mounted Hero. “You working on any new songs?”

Sewer Bard and Definitely Bad Guy exchanged glances. The Chosen One’s mouth downturned slightly as he noticed the moment.

“Hey,” he said, a hint of sterness in his voice, “no secret keeping. We agreed on that. Or, well, she said that and I agreed,” he nodded at Qube, who was staring up at the sky, watching some Fire Birds, “which means no secrets allowed or else you’ll make her sad. Is that what you want? You want to make her sad?”

“I would sooner cut off my own arm than do anything to hurt one as pure as our faithful Healer,” Sewer Bard said earnestly. “And I intended no deception. It’s merely, well, we hadn’t discussed the composing of any more songs, or the making of any additional spells.”

Definitely Bad Guy lightly scoffed at the two men.

“Naturally, I have already considered several different spells that we could develop,” he said disdainfully. “Unfortunately, it will require additional research to determine how best to combine our various abilities.”

“So it wasn’t just a Light Temple thing?” the Chosen One asked. “You can straight up just make new spells whenever you want, that’ll do whatever?”

The Bard and the Mage exchanged looks again.

“Hey!” the Chosen One said, clicking his fingers. “Knock it off! No meaningful glances! Don’t make me make a sign!”

“Why would you need to make a sign?” Qube asked, drawn into the conversation despite herself.

“So I can point at it whenever they do that,” the Chosen One explained as if it was the most obvious thing possible.

Qube wasn’t sure if that made sense or not, so she just gave him an Understanding Smile. He winced.

“Okay, okay!” he said, warding her off. “No sign! No sign!”

“The process is complicated,” Definitely Bad Guy admitted. “While I have, of course, invented spells in the past, they have always been variations on pre-existing spells. It is only thanks to the Bard’s ability to weave the components in with the [Siren’s Song] that created an entirely new spell.”

Sewer Bard pulled his lute off his shoulder and strummed it.

“It’s part of becoming the most famous Bard in all the lands,” he said. “Ever since I uncovered the ancient epic saga, I have felt as if I were able to create original, ever more powerful songs. One day, I hope to create a new epic saga, one that will ring out across the ages.”

“Oh, yeah, you had your own personal quest, didn’t you?” the Chosen One said. “I completely forgot about that.”

“It has been my life’s ambition,” Sewer Bard replied without any hint of anger that the Hero had forgotten something so important to him.

“I thought you’d gotten the song you wanted, and would kinda just learn some upgraded songs along the way,” the Chosen One admitted. “I didn’t realise it would be ongoing. My bad. Is this what let you figure out how to make totally new song-spells, though?”

“Yes,” Sewer Bard replied, “I believe that to be true. Until I have managed to create a new, epic saga, I will continue to search for ways to improve my craft.”

The Chosen One’s eyes unfocused, as sometimes happened, and he stared straight ahead. His fingers twitched occasionally as the rest of his party patiently waited for him to finish whatever mystical connection he was accessing. Sometimes, admittedly, it was a little awkward, standing around doing nothing while he drooled on himself, but none of them wanted to interrupt what were clearly very important Hero things.

“Huh, yeah, it’s not done,” the Hero said, blinking as he returned to the conversation. “Aw man!” He noticed the drool drying on his chin. “Why does that happen? That’s so gross!” He attempted to rub his chin clean.

“It’s a sign of your intense focus,” Qube said soothingly.

“It’s a sign of needing to be fixed, that’s what it is,” the Chosen One grumbled to himself.

“I can try and hold your mouth closed, if that would help?” Qube offered uncertainly. The Chosen One just laughed.

“Nah, that just took longer because they hid it under so many levels,” he said, then hesitated when he noticed the party staring at him blankly. He coughed, and dug his heels into Scaley-waley, making the wyvern break out into a trot.

Qube, who’d been watching the swirling Fire Birds out of the corner of her eye, lost sight of the creatures as they dove into the canopy next to them. The moons were rising up, and the stars had appeared, brilliantly illuminating the night. But the woods surrounding their path were still darker than they were during the day, with only fireflies lighting up the shadows.

She felt a shiver run down her spine, seconds before the howling started.

At first it was only one wolf, surprisingly loud, just off to their left. Then another howl joined it, and soon there was a cacophony of noise. The pitch hurt her ears, a scraping whine that dissolved into something almost like a song.

It made her head throb, like it was trying to get inside her brain. She covered her ears, and the sensation instantly stopped. The others also covered their ears, although whether that was to stop the painful invasion, or just from the loud volume, she couldn’t tell.

“Why are they being so noisy?” the Chosen One shouted. “Stop yelling at us, wolves!” he yelled into the woods.

“We should run!” Qube shouted back, trying to be heard over the howling and blocked ears. To hammer home her message, she started power walking, hoping the others would follow her lead. The Chosen One had recently decided he didn’t like murdering everything they came across, so she was trying to find a peaceful solution. Fortunately, the others weren’t far behind her, and so the saviours of the kingdom exited the woods, pursued by wolf noises.

Qube glanced over her shoulder as they left the woods. Dozens of glowing amber eyes flared deep within them, and then disappeared.

“Well,” she said, putting down her hands, “that was certainly strange.”

“It sounded almost… familiar,” Sewer Bard said, a dreamy expression in his eyes.

Qube was too unsettled by the experience to point out that yes, it would sound familiar, as they’d run across wolves before. Sewer Bard needed her to be supportive, not logical.

“We’re away from them now,” she said soothingly, patting his arm. He blinked, and looked down at her.

“Yes,” he said, not sounding at all sure about anything. “That’s good.”

The Chosen One had stopped covering his ears and was now rubbing his temples.

“That,” he said to no one in particular, “hurt.”

“Oh no!” Qube exclaimed, “[Lesser Heal]!” Her mana wrapped around him, sinking in and hopefully healing any damage done by the auditory assault from the canines.

“Thanks,” the Chosen One said absentmindedly, “but I think I’m gonna take a small break at the next — ah, here we go.”

A short distance ahead of them was Lake Fear, with its misty woods that led to the Air Temple behind it. Given Definitely Bad Guy had spoken about how high up the Wizards’ Academy was, Qube expected it to be somewhere near the sky-born Temple. Probably mystically cloaked, given they’d gotten a pretty good look at the mountain range and hadn’t spotted any Wizard Towers.

If she were being entirely honest with herself, Qube wasn’t looking forward to going into that thick, blinding fog again. Maybe they could use their wings and just fly over it? But the Hero and Mage both ignored the availability of the sky, and instead led the party right to where the mists started.

The Hero halted just before a blue sphere floating in front of the wall of white. It was a Save Point, one of the ways he could contact the mysterious and terrifying Devs.

“After this,” he said to Qube, “remind me that we need to go check out the Water Temple shops. Those mermaids said they’d have stuff for us. Right now, though, my head feels like it’s about to split open.”

Qube, horrified at the thought of him concealing so much pain from her, was about to [Heal] him, when he touched the Save Point. She instantly closed her mouth. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she cast a spell while he was interacting with a Save Point, but she was very sure that she didn’t want to find out the hard way.

She’d had enough of a scare the one time she’d been touching his shoulder and he’d connected with the sphere.

She pushed the memory of that event away, forcing herself to focus on the Chosen One who, as usual, appeared refreshed and revitalised by his contact with the Devs. He’d explained once that time moved differently in the Devs’ realm, and that he was able to rest there.

The Chosen One rolled his shoulders, and grinned at Definitely Bad Guy.

“All right,” he said cheerfully, “let’s see what you got.”

Definitely Bad Guy gave the Hero a condescending look, before reaching out to the mists and intoning a series of strange, warped words that refused to stick in Qube’s head. A doorway formed out of the moisture, looking nearly identical to the one that guarded Cobbletown’s Wizard’s Tower. Its white eyes searched the party, before focusing on the Mage before it.

“Apprentice,” it said, a wave of cold, damp mist washing over the group as it spoke. “You have returned to complete your training.”

“Wait, so you’re not even a real Wizard? You’re just a student?” The Chosen One broke down into laughter.

“Chosen One!” Qube exclaimed, shocked by the Hero’s ignorance. “He’s not a Wizard, he’s a Mage!”

The Mage in question ignored the pair of them, instead folding his hands together and bowing to the door.

“I have returned,” he replied, with his characteristic preciseness.

“You would bring outsiders into our domain?” the guardian asked scornfully. Qube hadn’t been aware that doors could be so judgemental, but she wasn’t liking this magical entrance to the Wizards’ Academy’s attitude.

“Tell him that you’re bringing the Chosen One!” she ordered Definitely Bad Guy, grabbing one of his sleeves. The Mage stiffened but didn’t break eye contact with the door.

“I bring the one chosen by the Golden Prophecy,” he said. “And his companions,” he added as an afterthought. “We have urgent need of the council’s wisdom.”

The door seemed to consider this information, before starting to dissolve.

“Proceed,” it said as it disappeared. Behind it there was a shadowy indentation.

“Wait, wait, wait,” the Chosen One said before anyone could move. The rest of the party paused, and Qube started frantically scanning the area for threats. The music she could hear was slightly spooky (leaving aside the inherent spookiness that she could now always hear music that seemed to react to the environment around her) but, while unsettling, there was no trace of any battle music.

“What do you mean he’s not a Wizard?” the Chosen One asked Qube, still standing in front of the mystical entrance to untold knowledge. Qube strained against the urge to walk past him and plunge into the shadows. There were mysteries ahead! Magical mysteries!

“Oh, it’s very simple,” she said, trying to manoeuvre around him so that his back was to the shadow. If she could get him lined up just right — there! Now his back was directly against the shadow entrance. “There are different classifications,” she continued, taking a step towards the Chosen One.

To her delight, the social urge to keep three steps away from the Hero also worked in reverse! To give her some personal space, the Chosen One took a step backwards, and disappeared into the shadows.

She was a genius!

Filled with glee, she followed him into the unknown.