Chapter Two Hundred and Sixteen - Imposter Syndrome

I continued to walk through the town, eyes and ears peeled for any sort of trouble.

The fake Bastion hadn’t really hurt me much, but it did surprise me. Worse, it had made me think of a friend as an enemy, which.... My hands shook.

... This was the worst dungeon floor I'd ever been in. If I could give dungeons ratings, I’d give this one a six out of ten and leave a very polite note about how it was maybe better to find another dungeon to visit.

When I saw my friends in town, I made sure to avoid them. Oh, sure, I looked to see if they were hurt or anything. It wouldn’t make sense to ignore an actual friend if they were injured, but otherwise I kept my chances of running into an evil faking faker low by just avoiding everyone.

I was in something of a foul mood as I stomped from the main road, through an alley, then back onto the main road.

I encountered a wide-eyed Awen in the middle of the road. She stared at me, her hammer held in both hands before her.

“I’m just going to continue walking,” I told her. “That way, if you’re a monster, it won’t be a problem, and you’ll know that I’m not a monster too, okay?”

Awen’s lower lip trembled, and she nodded. “Oh-okay.”

I didn’t walk away. “Are you alright?”

Awen nodded, but it was the sort of very quick nod someone made when they were not alright.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Awa, n-nothing important, it’s okay, awa.”

She was awa-ing. Awen had been doing that less and less lately. I figured it had been an anxious tic that she had been losing as she grew more confident. If she was doing it again, then she might need a hug or something really badly.

I placed my hands on my hips and moved a bit closer. Awen shied back. “Nope, something’s wrong,” I said. “Did something hurt you? We can find it and make it apologize.”

Awen shook her head, then paused and nodded. She took a small step back when I came closer, and I felt my heart sink at the gesture.

“Okay, so first, I need to prove that I’m me, is that okay?” I asked.

Awen hesitated. “Okay.”

“Right. So... uh.” I looked around for something to clean, then shrugged. I poured a good chunk of my mana into a big burst of Cleaning magic that swept out around me. It even reached Awen where she stood. The mist crawling on the ground was pushed back and Awen froze up, then her shoulders slumped.

“You’re really Broccoli?” she asked.

“I’m really really Broccoli,” I confirmed.

Awen shuffled forwards, then stopped. “Oh, right. Ah.” She raised a hand, pulling it free from her hammer’s haft, and focused. Magic spun around over her palm and shaped itself into a little marble of fractured glass. “Here?” She tossed it underhand at me.

I caught the glass ball out of the air and glanced at it. Yup, it was a bit of glass.

I shoved that in a pocket and walked right up to Awen, both arms circling around her to pull her into the biggest, tightest hug I could.

“It’s really you,” she said a moment before crumbling into the hug.

“Yup,” I whispered. I brought a hand up and started brushing her hair back while she buried her face in the crook of my neck. “It’s me, it’s okay.”

Awen didn’t cry--she was one tough cookie--but it sure felt as if she was tempted to. She held her hammer in one hand and used the other to return the hug. “I saw people, and there were two of them. It was you and Amaryllis.”

“Oh,” I said.

“They said hi, and I thought it was really you. Mister Howard never said there could be more than one fake, and Amaryllis used lightning magic.”

How? I thought that the Mist-folk couldn’t do that? Then again, if they could create an illusion of a person, why not some sparks and shiny lights? “It’s okay,” I said.

“You attacked me,” she said, her grip growing stronger.

“No no,” I said. “I’d never do that, you know I’d never.”

She nodded. “I know.”

We held each other for a bit until Awen felt ready to pull back. She sniffed, and wiped her eyes quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” I said. “I really, really don’t like this place. We’re staying together from now on, okay?”

Awen nodded. “Okay. I have a key.”

“So do I,” I said. “We’ll be fine.”

I made a point of holding onto Awen’s hand as we continued to walk. Just a slow walk, with Awen’s grip on my hand nice and strong. I made sure to keep an eye on her too. If this dungeon thought it was going to split me from my friends again... well I'd give it one heck of a talking to.

Maybe the dungeon sensed my mood, because we turned a corner and arrived in a small courtyard with no mist and plenty of room. In the middle was a hip-high well, with a little roof atop it, and Howard and Bastion sitting nearby.

I felt Awen’s grip tighten.

“No need to worry,” Howard said. “This is the well. You both have keys?”

I nodded, not entirely trusting that he was real. Beyond them was a small fence with big bushes on the other side, then... not much at all. The village ended here and there was only a small road and the start of a forest beyond.

Howard took out his pipe and puffed at it, the scent wafting over to us in moments.

“You smell real,” I said.

Howard nodded. “Aye, I would hope so.”

“Do we verify if they’re real?” Bastion asked.

The last time I saw him, he was a mist monster, so I was still a little guarded.

“You can,” Howard said. “But the Mist-folk never come close to the well, in my experience. Won’t attack folk with a key as much either, but that’s not always the case.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I sighed, then fired a ball of Cleaning magic at the well. The side had a bit of moss and dirt on it, all of which faded away once my magic wore off. “Is that enough?”

Bastion nodded. “It should be,” he said.

I nodded back, good. Then I threw my spade at him.

The sylph batted it out of the air, then shifted into a fighting stance, all in the time it would take me to blink. “What was that for?” he asked.

“To make sure you’re you,” I said. “The last Bastion I saw tried to claw me.”

“I... don’t have claws?” he tried.

“It was weird,” I said. I pulled Awen along with me to one side. Not as close to the others as I might have. Not because I was afraid for myself, more because Awen didn’t seem to be in a mood or state to fight in. Plus, she needed more hugs and maybe some more alone-time. “Amaryllis and Emmanuel haven’t shown up?” I asked.

Howard and Bastion both shook their heads. “No, not yet,” Howard said. “Could take a bit. Depends on how cautious they are.”

That made sense, until I considered how cautious Amaryllis and Emmanuel were. A rock of worry formed in my tummy, just under my ribcage. Had something happened to Amaryllis?

Something moved near the entrance to the little courtyard with the well. I stood a little taller, expecting to see Amaryllis stepping out of the mist. Instead, it was Emmanuel.

“Ah-hah! More foul villains for me to fight?” the cervid asked. He brought his sword up in a high guard stance. “Trying to trick me with more of you won’t work.”

“It’s us,” Bastion said. “If you don’t believe it, test it.”

“I’ll test you with my blade, misty monster!”

Bastion sighed as he walked up to Emmanuel. He slapped the cervid’s sword aside, then slapped the man in the face. He had to hover up with his wings to get enough height for it, but that only made it funnier.

Emmanuel’s expression didn’t help.

“There, now you know that we’re both solid, at least,” Bastion said.

I held back a giggle as Emmanuel rubbed at his cheek. “You slapped me?” he asked.

“Do you need another to make sure?” Bastion asked.

I felt Awen bouncing a bit by my side, and a look her way revealed her chewing on the inside of her cheek to hold in the laughs.

Emmanuel blinked a few times, pouted in a way that didn’t suit a grown cervid at all, then trotted off with a huff to stand nearer to us. “Fine. I suppose it was the only way to test things. Are you young ladies real as well?”

“Yup,” I said.

“Are we all here then?” Emmanuel asked. He fished out a little key from one of the pouches hanging by his... actually, I wasn’t sure if it counted as a hip or not. I’d need to ask a cervid one day, but someone more... less Emmanuel.

“No, not yet,” Howard said. “We’re missing the young harpy lass.”

“Oh,” Emmanuel said. “Well, perhaps she’s in need of a dashing, gallant sir to rescue her?”

Bastion sighed. “Lacking one of those, perhaps we should consider what to do if she doesn’t arrive soon. Howard, any ideas?”

Howard leaned back and looked at the well. “Still six keyholes, which means she’s likely still fine.”

"Oh." I exhaled. Weird, I hadn't noticed how hard it had become to breathe. "Good."

I was just about to ask Bastion what ideas he did have for saving Amaryllis. As relieved as I was, the thought of one of my best friends being in trouble still worried me, when the bird in question stumbled out of the mist.

“Amaryllis!” I said. I let go of Awen and jumped over to the harpy.

Amaryllis stumbled to the side, almost falling onto me. I felt warm blood seep into my shirt.

“What happened?”

She managed a huff. “What do you think happened?” she asked. Then she blinked. “You’re really Broccoli, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. I squeezed her a bit, both because she needed a hug, and just to make sure. It would very much be like this floor to fake an injured friend. It didn’t matter in the end, Amaryllis was nice and solid.

“What are your injuries?” Bastion asked as he moved over to us. He already had a potion in hand, the stopper off.

“One of those disgusting mist things got the drop on me. There was more than one,” Amaryllis said.

“I’m hardly too injured, but, as it turns out, lightning just cuts through them, and wires do nothing against things made of angry fog. I think the cuts are too thin, then just recombined.”

She snapped the potion out of Bastion’s hand and downed it in a swig.

I backed off to see how badly she was hurt. It looked, at a glance, like she had been cut across the arm, just past the elbow and where her arm was covered in long feathers. Another spot was cut, her blouse under her leather coat, which was left open at the front.

“Let me clean you off,” I said. It wouldn’t do to get an infection.

Amaryllis sighed and leaned my way a little. She wasn’t looking at me, but I could read my friends well enough.

“I hope you don’t mind, I’m in a hug-lots sort of mood,” I said as I hugged her close.

She huffed a ‘I’ll pretend that I do mind, thank-you-very-much’ sort of huff.

“We should get ready to leave,” I said. “I think we’re all very tired of being here, and could probably use a bit of a break.”

Howard nodded and stood up with a crack from his knees. “I won’t disagree with you there, miss,” he said. “Come on everyone, hand me your keys.”

I tossed him mine, Awen gave hers, and Amaryllis dropped hers in the fishman’s hand. Then Awen joined us and I pulled her into a side hug while we all watched Howard fumble with the locks set into the wellcap.

When he pulled it off, I let out a sigh of relief. Finally, we could leave this floor. And good riddance too. I stomped over to the ladder and climbed out of there.

***