Chapter 2: Chapter Two: Loading In…

Qube, the Prophecy Approved Companion of the newly anointed Saviour of the World, was beating said Saviour with his own pillow.

 

“Wake up.” Thump. “Wake up!” Thump. “WAKE UP!” Pop!

 

Uh oh. Probably a bit too hard with that last one.

 

The Chosen One continued drooling in his sleep. Feathers from the exploded pillow settled down around him.

 

“This is ridiculous.” Qube scowled, throwing the now deflated pillow at the wall. “What is going on?”

 

Leaving the Saviour snoozing she wandered back outside to check on the golden light. Maybe it had moved on to one of the other Potential Chosen Ones? Instead of the golden line with a glowing ball of light underneath it, the streak had broken up to three glowing balls. They seemed to pulse, one after the other, like the Prophecy magic was drumming its fingers. Qube stared at it in confusion, then looked around to see if there was anyone else who could explain what was going on. Where was Alderman? He’d spent his whole life on this Golden Prophecy, surely he’d have noticed its magic race past his house? Where was everyone?

 

She took a small step towards Alderman’s house. Maybe… maybe she had done something she wasn’t supposed to. Maybe the Awakening had failed. Maybe she was the wrong Companion. 

 

Just then she heard a faint groan from inside the house behind her. She swung around, and saw the Chosen One staggering to his feet. The golden light was swirling around him, infusing him as his muscles seemed to swell before her eyes. His face shifted, his eyes becoming wider and his teeth whiter. The vacant, well meaning gaze of her childhood friend was gone, replaced with an intensity of expression that shook her to her core. She felt as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. He slowly looked her up and down, his eyes returning to her face in time to witness her cheeks redden. Then his eyes unfocused, seeming to look beyond her, to something hidden inside her.

 

This… this was the power of the Prophecy.

This was the true Chosen One.

 

How could she ever guide him? How could she ever be arrogant enough to think that this golden creature would need her silvery light to show him the way?

 

She took a step back, ready to flee. The Chosen One snapped back into focus, then slowly reached to her.

 

No! That power! If he touched her, would it consume her? Why was he looking at her like that? What - she wouldn’t - he couldn’t -!

 

He shoved his hand directly into her face, his whole palm covering her all facial features.

 

What...

 

He lightly slapped her cheeks, poking them and watching with interest. 

 

What?

 

Then he tilted her head back to look up her nostrils.

 

What?

 

She smacked his hands away.

 

“What are you doing?” She yelled at him. He ignored her, and started touching his own face. He opened his mouth a couple of times, feeling his jaw move. “What is wrong with you? Did the Prophecy melt your brains?” Immediately her head started to ache, and she felt sick that she had just spoken to him like that.

 

“This is amazing.” He said, ignoring her. “I can feel everything. They really went all out, huh?” He looked down at himself and then reached for his pants.

 

“Chosen One!” Qube exclaimed, finally getting his attention. “Chosen One, I’m sure… I’m sure you must feel very strange. The Prophecy… has Awoken you.”

 

Her headache instantly vanished. Yes. This was right. This was what she was supposed to do. She had been training her whole life for this. It was literally why she’d been born.

 

“These are dark times,” She said, trying not to notice him absent-mindedly rubbing his abs. “The world has need of you. Of the power within you. Only you can - where are you going?”

 

The Chosen One was opening various drawers around his house, rummaging around in them and pulling out anything shiny or sharp. He picked up a medal he’d won during the last Summer Games, and shoved it into his pocket. He pulled it out again, examining it closely before putting it in his other pocket.

 

“I’m listening. Keep going. World ending, prophecy, chosen one, yadda yadda.” He picked up a broom and was trying to fit it into his pocket. Qube stared straight ahead, trying not to watch him. She had rehearsed this speech and on the Gold she would give it! Why had she left her cue cards at home?

 

“Only you can restore what was lost. Only you can defeat the Evil Emperor and bring peace back to our lands.” Nope, she could still see him out of the corner of her eye. She closed her eyes and continued. “But Awakening may have changed you. Come, let us see if it has granted you new strength.” She heard a strange rhythmic thumping sound and opened her eyes.

 

The Chosen One, Saviour of All, was in a weird crouch position, jumping up and down in his kitchen corner.

 

She stared.

 

“Can you see me?” He asked, still crouching and jumping.

 

“...Yes.” She said.

 

“Okay, can you turn about 90 degrees that way, no, other way. Okay.” He stopped jumping and remained crouched in the corner. “Can you see me now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay what if I don’t talk for a while, can you still see me?”

 

“You would need to stop talking for that to work.”

 

He laughed, the booming sound of it making her head feel like it was splitting in half. The pain and nausea were back. By the Words, she had to stop sassing the only hope for humanity! (And humanity adjacent.) It was clearly disrupting the Prophecy’s magic in some way, causing a terrible magical resonance that echoed through her. She had had no idea that the Prophecy had such strict rules for her behaviour. Next time she came across Alderman she was going to have to ask him about it.

 

Speaking of which-

 

“Come, I will take you to Alderman, our village Elder.”

 

Why had she told him who Alderman was? He had known him his whole life. But this man in front of her, he seemed to have a totally different energy to the boy she had grown up with. Why? Had the Prophecy changed him so much? Why had it done that? The pain was growing, so she turned her thoughts away from questioning the Prophecy and back to more practical matters.

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“You should probably put on a shirt before we leave though.” She said dryly. “Wouldn’t want people mistaking you for… you for…” She frowned. She had forgotten what she was going to say. Oh well, it would come back to her. As the Chosen One put on a shirt she looked around the room.

 

Where on earth had his broom gone?

 

---

 

Qube set off to Alderman’s house, desperately trying to ignore the fact that the Chosen One was doing forward rolls behind her. She briefly considered asking him what he was doing, but figured that any answer he gave her would just upset her. He was probably just testing out his new strength and flexibility. Yes. That made sense. 

 

“This is Alderman’s house.” She said and turned around, only to see the Hero of our Time crouched in Mrs Smith’s flowerbed. Mrs Smith ignored him, continuing to water her flowers as he snatched at the water drops. Qube cleared her throat. The Chosen One looked at her. 

 

“This is Alderman's house.” She repeated.

 

“Is that where we’re supposed to go?” He asked, still snatching at the water.

 

“This... is ... Alderman’s .... house.” Qube didn’t want to start yelling at the Chosen One again. Better to just repeat herself until he did what she wanted. The Chosen One stood up, and waved his hand in front of Mrs Smith’s face. Mrs Smith ignored him even harder. 

 

“I was hoping to check out the area before starting the main, but I guess nothing will activate until I do.” He said and gave a disappointed sigh. “Fine. But if I can’t come back to this area later I’m going to be [angry].

 

Qube had no idea what he was talking about. Starting the main? Checking out the area? Did he mean the village they had both spent their entire lives in? And why had his voice sounded so strange when he said he would be angry? It was almost … distorted, like she was underwater, just for that brief second.

 

And what did he mean by activate? 

 

As he trudged into Alderman’s house, Qube saw Mrs Smith give him a filthy look, and straighten up the flowers he’d crushed before going back to watering them with an air of defiance.

 

Qube couldn’t wait to leave this place.

 

---

 

“Chosen One! You have Awoken!” Alderman rose up from his seat. “Long have we awaited your - your…”

 

Alderman trailed off as their Champion of the Golden Prophecy started going through his pantry.

 

“I’m still listening.” The Chosen One said, opening various jars and tasting what was inside. “This is amazing! So many flavours!”

 

“Your arrival.” Alderman said with what Qube thought was a heroic level of self control. “You must feel strange after being infused with the Golden Prophecy’s magic.” The Chosen One stuck his entire hand into one of the jars. “Very strange.” Alderman said, then winced slightly. Qube nodded, glad to see that she wasn’t the only one the Prophecy was punishing for sass.

 

“Alas, you have been Awoken for a reason. An Evil Emperor rules our land. He has overthrown our rightful king and queen, and even now his dark magics taint the land, so little is able to grow. We need you, our Hero, to set forth on a perilous quest to save our people -”

 

“Skip.” The Chosen One said. Alderman and Qube exchanged glances.

 

“It… it will involve facing many dangers, the likes of which -”

 

“Skip.” The Chosen One repeated, yawning. He looked at Qube. “I hate backstory.” He said, as if that explained anything. There was a brief silence as Alderman looked extremely put out. Qube wondered if he had written cue cards too, and if they were now all out of order.

 

“Perhaps a brief sparring session in the woods would help clear your head, and prepare you for your journey.” Alderman smiled. It was not a very nice smile. “After that, dear,” here he turned to Qube, “take him around the village and help him gather supplies. I’m sure Mr Igma would be more than happy to sell him whatever he needs. If, and only if, he cannot get what he needs from Mr Igma, he should ask the other villagers to supply.” 

 

Qube gulped. She had never realised that Alderman could be so nasty! The villagers would be more than happy to give the Chosen One anything he needed for his journey in exchange for doing a few small errands for them, but by making him go to Mr Igma first, he would spend all his money and only after find out that he could have gotten it all for free. And Mr Igma had a brutal returns policy.

 

But this was for the Chosen One! Maybe he would waive it under those circumstances? Or give a special discount? Qube pictured Mr Igma, behind his battle scarred counter, his giant bushy eyebrows eternally scowling.

 

It was worth a shot, right?

 

“After that, return to me, and I will take you to the Golden Prophecy Hut. There you will be gifted our most sacred weapon to aid in your fight against evil.”

 

The Chosen One looked at Alderman, his expression surprisingly serious.

 

“Can I go beyond the woods before receiving supplies?”

 

“No, Hero. Our woods have many protective spells woven through them, making it almost impossible for any evil to come to our humble village, or for anyone to leave before they are powerful enough to survive outside. You will need the sacred weapon before you can start your journey. To set out without it would be certain death”

 

“But I can go around the village?”

 

“The village and the woods are open to you, yes.” Alderman looked at Qube, who shrugged. Maybe the Chosen One was trying to figure out what the “areas” were? Also what was this about protective spells keeping them from going past the woods? Was that why no one ever left? She had thought… that it was just… well for some reason she had never really questioned why no one had ever left the village, except for Mr Clockwork. It was just the way things were. 

 

“Sweet.” The Chosen One said, putting several jars of Alderman’s fruit preserves in his pockets. 

 

“Yes, my jams are sweet.” Alderman said, looking confused again and increasingly angry about all his food disappearing into The Chosen One’s cavernous pockets.

 

“No I mean sweet as in - you know what? Never mind. Do you have a backpack or something I could use? I’m running out of space here.”

 

“Mr Igma will be more than happy to sell you one at a reasonable price when you have returned from your sparring session.” Alderman said, and once again smiled.

 

It was a smile that haunted Qube as she hurriedly bundled the Saviour outside, before Alderman could suggest anything worse.

 

Truly, he was a twisted man.

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