Prophecy Approved Companion

“All right, let me know what happens when I start travelling towards Cobbletown,” the Chosen One told Qube. “Including what the others do. I wanna see how I can break this.”

“Are you going to — oh,” Qube watched as the Chosen One’s eyes glazed over and he started jogging back towards Cobbletown. The others fell into step behind him, each of them perfectly synchronized. Now that Qube wasn’t worried that the Chosen One was mad at her, she was able to appreciate the sheer focus the Hero was dedicating to his meditations. Not by so much as a flicker of the eye did he acknowledge her, even when she ran ahead of him and waved her hand in front of her face.

His discipline was impressive! Sometimes she thought he wasn’t taking the whole “saving the world” mission as seriously as he should, but moments like this reminded her that for all she had spent her life preparing to maybe be the Prophecy Approved Companion to the Chosen One, he had spent his life preparing to be the actual Chosen One. Sure, the magic may have changed him more than she would have expected, but underneath, there was clearly still the boy she had grown up with.

There was just now also someone who tried to shove their hand into a Giant Lava Slime and then vomited everywhere when it inevitably went wrong. Or ignored wolves trying to eat him when she shielded him.

Speaking of which, she wondered: what would happen if they were attacked while the Chosen One was in his near-trance? She looked around nervously. The morning suns had climbed quite high, so they should be safe from nocturnal predators. She narrowed her eyes as she caught a subtle flicker of movement ahead in the woods. If she hadn't been actively looking, she never would have noticed it.

Ambush? Bandits? Wolves?

She grabbed the Chosen One’s arm, only to have him casually avoid her touch.

“Chosen One!” she hissed, trying to get his attention. He ignored her. She turned to the other party members, reaching out and snagging Sewer Bard’s billowing sleeves. As soon as she made contact with him, he seemed to snap back to reality.

“What?” Sewer Bard asked, almost sleepily. He blinked groggily. It was as if he had been deeply asleep, and had needed to travel a great distance to return to consciousness.

“Sewer Bard! There’s something up ahead!”

“Do not worry, my sweet petal. I shall protect your tender self from… heads? Can you repeat that last bit?” Sewer Bard said earnestly, not breaking step. He was looking slightly over Qube’s shoulder as he spoke.

Now Qube thought about it, she wasn’t entirely sure why she had chosen Sewer Bard of all people to wake up. Not only was he the most useless in combat, (though Qube would never judge someone for being in a support role,) but he still couldn’t really see or hear her. He had just been the closest party member.

“I’ll go and wake up the others,” she said hurriedly, as the group marched towards the potential danger.

“I shall deal with these ruffians,” Sewer Bard said, his suddenly aggressive tone at odds with the fact that he was still calmly jogging along with the rest.

“No, no, that’s quite all right,” Qube said, running over to where Sexy Screamy Spider Lady was scampering along. But, before she could actually manage to catch one of the Hunter’s various limbs, the wolves emerged onto the road.

Magic flared within Qube as she prepared to shield the Chosen One. Just before she cast, though, she realised that there was something very odd about the wolves. They weren’t snarling or aggressive, instead they were just sort of… wandering about. They didn’t even glance in the party’s direction, flowing around them like water as they continued their journey down the road.

Qube wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. The only wolves she had previously met had instantly tried to kill the Chosen One. Though now she thought about it, those wolves had either been in or around the Forbidden Forest, or near their home village. Neither of which exactly got a lot of foot traffic — one being magically sealed off from the world and the other cursed. Maybe these wolves were more used to people, and knew to leave them alone?

In a moment, the wolves were gone, peacefully melting back into the woods around them.

Sewer Bard looked at Qube, his face a picture of confusion. Qube, still jogging alongside him, shrugged. The rest of the trip was completed in silence, the only other scare when Sewer Bard spotted a Giant far off in the distance. Even as he cried out “Giant!”, the Bard didn’t change pace, an example of iron will which rather raised him in Qube’s esteem.

The Chosen One abruptly stopped jogging as soon as they reached the entrance of Cobbletown, the rest of the party stopping immediately. Qube only just managed to stop herself from running into Definitely Bad Guy. The Mage Advisor looked down at her, his absent expression of the jog replaced with his normal sardonic sneer.

“I was thinking maybe you could go to your Wizard’s Tower?” Qube blurted out, to avoid him noticing she’d almost crashed into him. “Check on your experiments? Wait, with the Evil Emperor, will there be problems, given he saw us together? I mean, not together together, but he saw us standing next to each other in the street and he obviously knows me, and you, you’re his most trusted advisor of magic, but, I mean, traveling with the Chosen One and me, would you be safe?” Qube lost herself in a mire of half sentences and awkwardness as Definitely Bad Guy continued to just look at her. He slowly blinked as if he was trying to parse her meaning.

“I would not worry about the Evil Emperor,” he said eventually. “And yes, I shall go and review the progress of my … experiments. My intention had been to accompany you, and thus assure your safety. While our … compatriots ... are surprisingly competent, I would not trust them with such a task.”

A fuzzy claw suddenly landed on Definitely Bad Guy’s shoulder, followed rapidly by three more as Sexy Screamy Spider Lady nuzzled up to the Mage Advisor, coyly resting her spider face against the side of his head. Her fangs leaked a little green venom down his neck.

“My darling little fire starter, you wouldn’t be implying that we’d let anything happen to our cute little Healer, would you? Or worse, that she’d be unable to take care of herself? She’s not the one who ended up in a lake of lava and needed to be fished out and healed, after all.”

“It was magma, not lava,” Definitely Bad Guy muttered pedantically. Part of his torso was briefly consumed by some of the screaming children’s faces, before popping back out again. Qube still wasn’t entirely sure what caused that to happen, as Sexy Screamy Spider Lady’s body seemed to occasionally just eat things before spitting them out, unharmed. And yet her body wasn’t an illusion, as Qube had seen her physically interact with many different things.

Perhaps that held the key to her potentially still-present curse? Qube would have to ask Definitely Bad Guy about it when Sexy Screamy Spider Lady wasn’t actively threatening him. Or possibly trying to seduce him? It was honestly rather hard to tell.

As they stepped through the wide wooden gates, the same two guards who had greeted them last time emerged from their guard hut and hurried towards them.

“Hail and well met, traveller!” the first guard said.

“What brings you to our cursed land?” the second guard chimed in.

Qube mentally scoffed. These two were repeating their greetings from the last time they had shown up to Cobbletown! Granted, they probably saw at least a dozen people a day, given the bustling metropolis that was Cobbletown, but still! You’d think they’d remember the Chosen One, friend to the Exiled Prince and Exiled Princess!

Oh, no, wait, the Royals were incognito.

But Definitely Bad Guy was the Mage Advisor! Surely that would break them out of their rhythm? Though they were just city guards, not the castle guards, so maybe they didn’t get to actually see enough of court life to be able to identify the most powerful magic user on sight.

Qube was jolted out of her thoughts by the Chosen One grabbing her wrist and dragging her to a very familiar storefront. “After shops, you can tell me what the fast travel was like,” he was saying.

“Oh no,” Qube groaned as she beheld the battlescarred sign of Mr. Igma’s shop.

“You three stay here,” the Chosen One ordered the other party members. The three of them instantly relaxed into their most comfortable positions — Sexy Screamy Spider Lady bouncing on her legs, Definitely Bad Guy pulling out a book from somewhere, and Sewer Bard idly strumming on his lute. But rather than the jaunty little tune he normally played, the music sounded… different. Slower, almost mournful. Qube glanced over her shoulder at him as the Chosen One pulled her into Mr. Igma’s den of retail, and saw that Sewer Bard was looking directly at her.

His eyes locked onto hers, and in them she saw frustration, burning towards deep anger.

She felt a shiver run down her spine as she was enveloped by the dim light of Mr. Igma’s shop, and wasn’t sure if it was her fear of the gruff shopkeeper, or a reaction to Sewer Bard. She would need to talk to him soon, try and help him see what his role was. How important it was that he stick to his role, that they all did, so that they could save the world.

“Here, start putting these things in your bag,” the Chosen One said, directing her to the potion shelf.

What all their roles were.

A fragment of thought.

“Chosen One, Mr. Igma can’t see me, can he?” Qube quietly questioned her childhood friend.

“Probably,” the Chosen One said cheerfully.

“Which means he has not, in fact, agreed to let you take all of his stock.”

“Eh, if he objected to it he would stop me,” the Chosen One shrugged. He smiled slightly, as if at a private joke. “Or tell the guards and have us arrested. But we’re not getting in trouble for stealing, so it’s not stealing.”

“Can you please get him to say that he is happy for us to take all of his items and sell most of them back to him?” Qube looked at the Chosen One steadily. “Just so we can know he’s truly fine with it.”

The Chosen One was looking at her like she’d sprouted another head.

“It’s fine; just take them,” he said.

“Not until we have his explicit permission,” Qube replied.

“[Take],” the Chosen One ordered her. Qube flinched as the power of the Golden Prophecy closed around her like a vice. Her veins felt like they were filled with fire. She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. She staggered towards the potion shelf and felt the agony subside just a touch.

It was a direct command. She had to obey. She had to do what he ordered her to do. This was what she was trained to do. This was her purpose. This was her function.

He was watching her, bright and sharp as shattered glass.

But against that burning command a different flame sprang to life within her. She clutched it gratefully, using it to cleanse the Golden Prophecy’s grip on her.

No.

“No,” Qube said, turning and facing the Chosen One. She was almost trembling at the cost it took to do so. Within her, the two infernos raged.

“No?” the Chosen One repeated incredulously.

“No! I’m your childhood companion! What kind of guiding light would I be if I allowed the Saviour of all Human and Human-Adjacent beings to go around taking things without permission?” she snapped, trying not to pant at the effort.

“A pretty normal one, really,” the Chosen One replied.

Qube squared her shoulders. “Well I am not a normal childhood companion. I am a Prophecy Approved Companion, and that means I hold you to higher standards! You are the Chosen One! And I will not help you until you get permission!”

The Chosen One was looking at her very strangely, as if he couldn’t decide whether to be offended or impressed. Qube continued to steadily look him in the eye. She felt a “teehee” bubble up in her throat, but ruthlessly suppressed it. This was not the time to be cutesy!

“Nor will I let you just steal things!” she clenched her fists as she was instantly wracked with internal backlash.

“Let me?” The Chosen One took a step back and examined her. He gave a short laugh. “Let me,” he repeated softly. His eyes searched her face, for what, she wasn’t sure. “You really are something new, aren’t you?” he almost whispered.

“Hey, Shop Guy Mc-Scowlface, can I have this stuff?” the Chosen One asked Mr. Igma.

“For free,” Qube prompted through gritted teeth.

“For free,” the Chosen One dutifully added.

“...No,” Mr. Igma said.

“Aw [snacks],” the Chosen One said casually, as if he hadn’t just been revealed to be a serial thief. He looked at Qube. “Uh, he’s probably just too shy to say yes?” he offered hopefully.

Qube gave him a flat look.

“Fine,” the Chosen One sighed, throwing his hands up into the air. “No more exploiting you to get free goods that we can use to help save the entire world. Goods that we wouldn’t even need an exploit for if shopkeepers were at all realistic and just gave me what I asked for. Me, the Hero who’s gonna stop the big bad from wrecking everything or whatever.” The Chosen One glared at Mr. Igma, who seemed to reflect and double the glare right back at the Hero.

“...Excellent! Thank you, Chosen One, for being so willing to take my guidance on such matters!” Qube exclaimed, clasping her hands together and tilting her head to the side. “We really are a great team, aren’t we? Teehee!”