Qube gave the Chosen One a nervous smile.

“Of course, I’d love to!” she lied. She watched the Chosen One jump to the ground, his knees making a painful cracking sound as he hit the hard, strangely choppy street surface.

She didn’t want to jump from this height! She thought he was going to make a crossbow bolt ladder down! Why did so much of their adventure so far involve falling? And how were they supposed to get back out again?

None of the others seemed to register her fear, though, each jumping down and then exclaiming in agony as they all suddenly appeared bloody and bruised. How were they so much braver than her? No way was she going to let herself be outdone!

“[Lesser Shield],” she cast, and then dropped like a stone, the magical shield shattering as it absorbed all the damage meant for her. The Chosen One nodded at her approvingly.

“Nice work,” he said, making Qube blush pink with pleasure. “Now, let’s see what exploits we can find before everything renders in.”

Renders in? As in, render them a service? Oh! He must be talking about the not-scarecrow coming in and helping them on their journey! Or maybe the place was under some kind of magical sleep that they had to awaken them from? There sure were a lot of curses being thrown about. Qube eyed Definitely Bad Guy. She had to make sure to get him to teach her how to curse people. Even a simple hex or two, just in case. The mental image of the malice in the Dryad Queen’s eyes, and the last minute save from the dispassionate Saviour of All flashed across her mind.

Yes, just a little hex, in case she ever needed a way to assert herself in a situation where light scolding and some teehee-ing didn’t cut it.

She added it to her to-do list, along with [Heal]ing Sewer Bard, reading Mother Gothel/Dryad Queen’s diary, researching every creature they were likely to come across, and discovering the secrets of pocket magic.

Speaking of pocket magic, she pulled the white tile out of her belt pouch, where she kept all the herbs and plants she had stopped the Chosen One from eating. She offered it to the Chosen One.

“Oh, I have something for you,” Qube said. The Chosen One, surprised, held out his hand. “I solved the puzzle,” she said proudly, dropping the tile onto his outstretched palm.

The Chosen One looked at the tile in his hand, then back at Qube in shock. He opened his mouth, but, before he could speak, Qube felt a violent jerk within her as the whole group was teleported.

Qube staggered as she landed on the road outside Construct Crossroads. The not-scarecrow was standing before the disoriented group, its mouth widely grinning.

“Congratulations! The riddles here you have now solved, so the blocking gate shall be dissolved.” It creaked happily as it started to give a strange, windmill-like dance, and the giant metal doors slowly clanked open. Qube, still rather turned around, was further thrown when the doors fully opened to reveal not the strange, alien landscape they’d been in but a moment ago, but a bustling mini city, filled with constructs of metal and stone, all busily rushing about.

By the Words, what was going on? This place had been deserted a moment ago! But, before Qube could speak, a loud argument broke out in the plaza before them.

“I don’t care nothing about no steam! You and yours are to stay away from my child!” a large rock humanoid yelled at a metal construct. The rock-like construct had blue overalls painted on it, and a frilly apron tied around its slab-like waist.

The metal construct looked down her nose at the rock creature. Qube could tell the metal construct was a woman because of the two large cogs stuck on her chest, and the fact that she had much more pronounced metal hips than the not-scarecrow or Mr. Clockwork, and also had tightly coiled, spring-loaded eyelashes.

Qube wasn’t entirely sure quite why a construct would need hips wide enough for live birth. Or eyelashes. Or if gender was even a thing with constructs — Mr. Clockwork had always just been Mr. Clockwork; she wasn’t exactly sure if constructs actually had genders. She made a mental note to ask someone how constructs made babies.

Meanwhile, the metal construct sniffed indignantly.

“I am afraid that I must agree with you, my good creature. I have no interest in my talented progeny wasting their time on sediment.”

There was a terrible grinding noise as every rock construct stopped what they were doing, and turned to the metal construct. The overall-covered rock construct clenched her fists.

“My kid is far too busy trying to fix the mess you metalheads have made of the place to go running around with some slurry.”

Sharp hisses filled the air as all the metal constructs also stopped, and stared at the rock construct.

The Chosen One pulled a chair out of his backpack and sat in it, already scooping jam out of one of the jam jars he’d stolen from Alderman.

“Oh man,” he said, to no one in particular, “this is going to be juicy.”

“My children, my children!” a large human came hurrying down the main street, rushing into the middle of the plaza between the two verbal combatants. “Please! I know we are all frustrated with the current situation, but the solution isn’t to turn on each other! You must go back to work.” The human removed his cog- and lens-laden glasses and mopped his forehead with a dirty rag.

Qube expected the constructs to ignore this decidedly eccentric-looking human, but instead, they all just turned and walked away from each other without another word, leaving behind only two constructs. On the side that the metal constructs had exited from, there was a smaller, slimmer construct wearing a blue corset. They were staring intensely at a well-built looking rock construct on the other side of the plaza that appeared to be wearing a dark-haired wig and a painted-on black jacket that looked vaguely leather-like.

The two figures both gave deep sighs at the exact same time. The Chosen One stood up and shoved his chair and jam into his backpack.

“Well,” he said, “that was disappointing. I really wanted to see an NPC slap fight. Come on, looks like we’ve got a Romeo and Juliet social quest going on.” He ambled over to the rock construct. The well-built stone being tore its eyes away from the metal corset wearer and looked at the Chosen One, its flat eyes somehow filled with tears.

“Welcome, traveller,” they rumbled. “You saw my mama having a fit, didn’t you?” The stone being and the metal construct once again gave synchronised sighs. “She just doesn’t understand our love! None of my fellow Rockies do. They don’t see Zincy the way I do. Look at her; isn’t she perfect?”

Qube looked to Sewer Bard, her yardstick for inner beauty. He was just frowning slightly at the ground, ignoring the conversation around him.

Sexy Screamy Spider Lady, however, was extremely enthusiastic. “Oh, aren’t you just the cutest? I swear I could eat you up!” she cooed. The Rockie (Qube assumed) blushed as Sexy Screamy Spider Lady scuttled up to him and threw a provocative look over her shoulder at the Chosen One.

“I think everyone should be allowed to love freely, don’t you, my dearest Hero?” she fluttered all of her eyelashes at the Chosen One, who was busy rotating in place. Qube assumed he was trying to take in all the differences between that strange nightmare landscape they’d been in before and this lively city, but it felt rather awkward to bring up in front of a citizen of said place.

Somehow, Qube didn’t think ‘hey, five minutes ago, that place you were standing was a desolate wasteland and your beloved home looked like it was made by a giant toddler; what’s up with that?’ was a great introduction. In fact, it would have been downright insulting.

...She was kind of surprised the Chosen One hadn’t already asked.

Not that she lacked faith in the Chosen One’s social skills! Sure, everyone who encountered him for the first time tended to gain that fixed grimace known as the First Exposure to Chosen One, but that was just because he wasn’t bound by the same social norms as others! He had a world to save, and was far too busy dealing with that to worry about such petty things as basic manners, or others’ feelings.

Like, say, as a totally random example, wandering off when his Childhood Companion was working on a task he had asked her to do, and thus missing her completing her very first puzzle.

Just as a plucked out of thin air, totally hypothetical situation.

That Qube definitely wasn’t going to bring up when she got a chance. No, not at all.

Meanwhile, the Rockie was loudly describing the details of their love life.

“And I said to meself, Slate, you’ve got to be a man about this and actually talk to her. So I did it. Well. I wrote her a letter.” A letter suddenly appeared in Slate’s hand and he thrust it at the Chosen One. “Here, take it to her. I… I can’t bring myself to face her!”

Qube put her hand on her chest, touched by the trust Slate was showing them. He’d only just met the Chosen One, and already he knew he could rely one the Chosen One for such a precious task! It was one thing to believe that the Chosen One would defeat the Evil Emperor and save the world; it was a totally different thing to trust him to deliver a heartfelt declaration of love!

Not that Qube knew that the letter was a formal declaration of love, but what else could Slate possibly want to say to a female (from a hostile faction no less!) that he’d never actually exchanged a single word with? It had to be true love!

The Chosen One waved his hand in the general direction of Slate, the letter disappearing as mysteriously as it had appeared in the first place. This was similar to key magic. Qube made a note to investigate possible links between key magic and pocket magic. Now that she thought about it, locks were a cavity. Pockets were nothing but portable cavities. This might be her chance to solve two mysteries for the price of one!

Not that the Chosen One seemed terribly enthused about his chance to facilitate true love. Instead he more seemed mildly amused, which was pretty much his default facial expression. He turned and marched towards the so-called Zincy. As the Chosen One approached the female-looking metal construct, she stopped staring soulfully at Slate and fixed her gaze on the Hero.

“Well met, traveller,” her voice was like someone had spent the last three hours in a steam room huffing the hot air; that is to say, it was damp and rather depressing. She looked back at Slate, who had reverted to staring at her extremely intensely. The two lovers gave synchronised sighs. It was, Qube thought, extremely loud sighing. She looked at the open windows of the buildings around the plaza. Did the pair of them sigh all day? Or had they only been brought to the plaza because of the argument between their parents? If they spent all day sighing, it would only be a matter of time before someone took matters into their own hands and threw the pair of them out of the city.

“I must presume that you witnessed my parent’s shameful behaviour? I hope it did not give you a distaste for our humble town.”

Sewer Bard, who had been staring at the ground sulkily, suddenly activated.

“Trust me, my metal mistress, nothing could give anyone a distaste for an abode that houses one as polished as yourself.”

Qube was honestly rather impressed with the layers to that particular remark. He must have been working on his lines, like Sexy Screamy Spider Lady had suggested after the whole “trying to chat to the Forest Folk” incident.

“Isn’t he just the dreamiest?” she said, with another rib-stretching sigh. “I would give anything to have him talk to me, even just once.”

Without a word, the Chosen One pulled the letter out from thin air and shoved it at Zincy. It vanished.

Zincy gasped and pressed her hands to her extremely sharp cheekbones. “What is-”

“Skip,” the Chosen One yawned.

“-my,”

“Skip,” the Chosen One was watching Qube, as if trying to gauge her reaction.

“ - wrote him a reply, if you want to give it to him. Oh, I cannot believe I’m being so bold!”

“Ski- oh wait, she’s done,” the Chosen One said as a letter appeared before Zincy. Her hands were still on her cheeks, so it just floated in the air in front of her. But the randomly appearing object floating before the sentient metal construct was not what was confusing Qube.

How… how was she so fast at reading and writing? She hadn’t even opened the letter!

It was almost like Zincy had prepared this letter earlier!

Qube was starting to feel like there was something strange about this romance.