Prophecy Approved Companion

Book One Chapter Thirty Six: Voight_Kampff_Ish_test

“What do you want?” the Chosen One asked Qube.

Qube blinked.

“To be the best Companion, your guiding light, and to help you save the world, of course!” she replied with a bright smile.

The Chosen One sighed.

“I knew I should have written their questions down,” he muttered. “Aside from that,” he continued before she could ask him who ‘they’ were. “Is there anything you want that is totally unrelated to helping me, or the world, or anything to do with the Golden Prophecy? Like… I dunno, being a baker or something?”

Qube felt a terrible pressure in her head as she contemplated his question. Well, she had been thinking about her TIMES research. Did that count? But that was related to the Temples, which had to do with the Golden Prophecy, and finding out more about them and how they worked. So even though it was supposed to happen after they were saving the world, that didn’t really count, did it?

Maybe in the future, she would find something totally unrelated, but the Prophecy had overshadowed so much of her life that she hadn’t very well had a chance to develop anything completely separate from it.

“Not really,” she said cautiously.

The Chosen One looked disappointed.

“But I could!” she said.

“No, it doesn’t work if you only do it because you think I want you to,” the Chosen One said. “Any interest you develop now would only be a reaction to your perception of me wanting you to do it.”

Qube frowned. The Chosen One didn’t sound like himself. Maybe he was still not feeling well? Or maybe he was worried about her not being able to cope once the adventure was over? If he was also worried about losing his sense of purpose once they finished their epic quest… or worse, he was worried that she would leave him once they were no longer bound together by the Golden Prophecy?

“Chosen One,” she said earnestly. “You have nothing to fear. I will always be by your side. Even if we finish saving the world, I will always be your Childhood Companion.”

This did not appear to cheer the Chosen One up.

“A warhammer is put on a wooden table. It breaks.” The Chosen One looked at Qube expectantly.

“Did-did you need me to fix something?” Qube asked, confused. “I didn’t even know you had a warhammer, I thought we sold them all back to the shopkeeper we took them from. And where were you keeping a table? In your backpack?”

“No, what broke?” the Chosen One asked, frustrated.

“What?” Qube asked.

“It’s contextual, you’re supposed to be able to tell that the table broke.”

“The table broke?”

“No that doesn’t count, I just gave you the answer!”

“Where is this table? Is this a riddle?”

“No, it’s-” the Chosen One gave an exasperated sigh and rubbed his face, “it’s one of the tests they said to do. Humans can tell from a greater contextual understanding that it’s the table that would break, not the warhammer, even though it’s not outright stated.”

“Half-elves can tell contextual things as well,” Qube said indignantly, “and even full elves. We understand contexts. That’s not just humans.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” the Chosen One exclaimed, “I mean — whatever. You didn’t get the answer. Next question.”

“Is this a test?” By this point Qube was starting to get really worried. Was this some sort of test to make sure she would remain his guiding light Companion? Who were ‘they’?

“If it is a test, how would that make you feel?” the Chosen One looked at her carefully.

Qube was not panicking. She was the Prophecy Approved Companion! She was chosen by the Golden Prophecy, she was destined for this role! By the Words, she wasn’t going to let some nebulous ‘they’ dethrone her!

“Fine, of course,” she lied as she smiled. “Whatever you think is best, I know that together we can overcome anything!”

For some reason her answer just seemed to depress the Chosen One even more.

“Final question,” he said, “you’re in the desert and you find a —” he hesitated, thinking. “Do you know what a tortoise is?” he asked Qube.

For a moment Qube’s mind was blank, before suddenly she remembered the existence of tortoises.

“Of course!” she chirruped. That was such an easy final question! She was sure to have passed.

“Cool,” the Chosen One said, despite the warm day. “Anyway, you’re in the desert and you see a tortoise and turn it over onto its back. And it’s stuck, I think? Yeah. It’s stuck. And it’s going to die if you don’t help it back onto its feet. Why aren’t you helping it?”

Qube was, by this point, extremely confused. Was she supposed to point out that he had already asked his final question? Were the ‘they’ watching them right now to make sure she passed this test? What had triggered this test? Was it because of her connection with the Chosen One being damaged in the Fire Temple? Or because she hadn’t healed him correctly? Had she done something wrong?

She realised that the Chosen One was looking at her. Oh no! She was taking too long to give him an answer! She hadn’t even been thinking about the question! What was it about again? Tortoises? Were they Evil? She didn’t remember them being Evil! But she was killing it in a desert for some reason? Maybe it was a Desert Temple?

Quick! Give him an answer!

“We are Good,” she said hurriedly, “so it must be Evil! Teehee!”

Oh no! The teehees had returned! He would know she was stressed! She had to appear cool and calm under pressure!

The Chosen One now looked about as confused as she had felt.

“I don’t know if that’s a good answer or not,” he said eventually. “I’ll see what they say. You definitely didn’t pass the first two though.”

The Chosen One looked disappointed in her. Like she had failed him somehow. Like she hadn’t — she hadn’t been good enough for him.

“I… a part of me thought you would pass all of them,” he confessed. “It’s stupid to be disappointed by a game just being a game. Well. You were the most likely candidate. I don’t know if I can be bothered interrogating the others, to be honest.” The Chosen One scratched at his shoulder. “Although I would have had fun asking Sexy Screamy Spider Lady how she saw herself,” he grinned.

“I’m sorry, Chosen One,” Qube said, holding back tears. The Chosen One looked at her, startled. “I’m sorry I failed you. I promise you that I’ll do better next time. We’ll get through this together. We’ll save the world.”

The Chosen One looked at her in silence for a long time, as Qube struggled to maintain her Understanding Smile, even as tears slowly started to fall down her face.

“I hate this,” the Chosen One said eventually, his voice rough. “I know you’re not real, but this… this kind of programmed response… it’s messed up.”

“It’s not a programmed response!” Qube started to protest, when the Chosen One stood up.

“Forget this,” he said, “I’m reloading.”

“What-”josei

The world shuddered.

It was fully dark by the time she awoke. The rest of the party had awoken at the exact same time, the Chosen One included. Qube stretched as she got up, shaking her head to clear her mind of the strange dream she’d just had. The memories of it were already starting to fade, but it’d involved the Chosen One saying she wasn’t real, and weird questions about tortoises. She’d never actually remembered a dream before, but she knew about them. People in the village had often spoken about remembering weird dreams etc.

As the rest of the party stood aside so the camp could instantly fold back up into a piece of canvas, Qube snuck a glance at the Chosen One. He seemed oddly tired, but otherwise there was none of the distress that he’d shown in her dream. He looked up and noticed her. She smiled at him, and gave him a reassuring wave. After a moment of hesitation, he gave a tiny wave back.

Qube felt the knot of fear ease in her chest. Yes. All was well.

---

As they were walking down the hill towards the metal and rock town, Qube remembered something that the Chosen One had said in her dream.

“Oh, Sexy Screamy Spider Lady,” she started, “I have a question-” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady swivelled on her abdomen to look at Qube, but before she could answer, a large metal statue (that Qube had honestly thought was a scarecrow or something) suddenly moved.

“Welcome to Construct Crossroads!” it creaked, one arm rhythmically waving back and forth at them. Qube suppressed a shriek — this construct was in much worse shape than Mr. Clockwork. While Mr. Clockwork had been gleaming new, this construct had clearly been standing out in the field for a very long time. It was covered in rust, and its voice sounded like the rust had gotten into its voice box too.

The Chosen One stopped directly in front of the greeter.

“Well, that’s just creepy,” he said, staring directly into the not-scarecrow’s face. “Right in the uncanny valley.”

“Chosen One!” Qube hissed. “They can hear you!”

The Chosen One gave her a startled look, then smiled somewhat sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he apologised absent-mindedly. “It’s just really impressive how they made them look so unsettling.”

Qube paused. She was aware that, given they were constructs, someone must have made Mr. Clockwork and this not-scarecrow. Presumably, there were parental constructs around, but it scarcely seemed fair to blame them for their construct children looking unsettling. And yes, the not-scarecrow was a bit unusual looking, but there was nothing particularly bad about their appearance. They just looked like someone had taken a sheet of metal and cut strips out of it; bending and contorting said strips until they formed a twisted facsimile of a humanoid, then haphazardly hammering it all into place. Unconnected cogs whirled inside the construct, occasionally causing golden lights to glow within, and their eyes were metal cords twisted together, that same golden glow where a person’s pupils would be.

It reminded Qube of how the Golden Prophecy would glow when the Chosen One was around. It was comforting. She smiled at the not-scarecrow, then remembered that it couldn’t see her. She frowned.

“Are you a brave adventurer, come to help us in our time of need?” the not-scarecrow continued in a chipper tone.

Sewer Bard strummed on his lute and smiled. “Have you not heard of the deeds of our Noble Patron? He has defeated two temples, will overthrow the Evil Emperor, and restore the rightful rulers of our land!”

Qube wasn’t entirely sure of the wisdom of loudly announcing their intention of overthrowing the Evil Emperor to a total stranger, but she was glad that Sewer Bard seemed more cheerful. The not-scarecrow, however, ignored Sewer Bard and continued staring at the Chosen One. Which, honestly, was a pretty normal reaction to being presented to the Saviour of All. Also, said Saviour was in the process of carefully removing the not-scarecrow’s tattered top hat from him. Sewer Bard’s smile faded.

“I am his Bard,” Sewer Bard continued, “and I owe him my life. No matter what dubious characters he aligns himself with,” here he shot a look full of venom towards Definitely Bad Guy, “with their questionable methods of research.”

Definitely Bad Guy gave Sewer Bard back a look equally filled with hatred.

“My experiments are masterworks of information,” Definitely Bad Guy sneered.

“They are crimes against decency,” Sewer Bard retaliated hotly. Sewer Bard and Definitely Bad Guy glared at each other in mutual antipathy. The Chosen One watched with keen interest as two of his sworn compatriots stared daggers at each other in silent hatred. The tension between the two was almost palpable.

Qube looked between the two in trepidation. This wasn’t right! They were all supposed to get along! They’d been doing so well, working together like a well oiled machine. But now, now there was this weird energy between the two of them.

The not-scarecrow continued to blankly stare at the Chosen One, ignoring the argument happening in front of it. Qube nearly cringed at the thought of how unheroic they must look, squabbling in front of the town’s greeter/ambassador!

Sexy Screamy Spider Lady just bounced on her legs, making her thorax wobble. She seemed singularly uninterested in the storm brewing before her. Qube cleared her throat unnecessarily, drawing Sexy Screamy Spider Lady’s many eyes to her. Qube knew just how to defuse the tension.

“So, Sexy Screamy Spider Lady. I had the weirdest dream last night, where the Chosen One wanted to ask you: how do you see yourself?”

Sexy Screamy Spider Lady blinked, which took a while, given her eye situation.

The Chosen One dropped the top hat he’d just taken.

“What did you just say?”