The rest of the shopping was completed without any additional issue, which was a nice way of saying that the Chosen One behaved himself. Qube was still trying to get used to the way it felt holding a staff, especially one so oversized, and didn’t particularly pay attention to any of the various shopkeepers.

What she did notice, however, was how annoying the music in Cobbletown was becoming.

It was no longer the light and breezy tune that she’d gotten used to. Instead, whatever magic was causing the wordless song was trying to make a new one, or something, and it was very irritating. The normal flow would halt, leaving a few seconds of silence, and then skip ahead or back in the song, creating a mildly jarring experience.

After the sixth time the tune randomly skipped, Qube noticed that the Chosen One would frown every time it did. Without saying anything, he wandered over to a Save Point and swiped his hand through it. As soon as he did, the skipping stopped.

Interacting with the Devs’ realm affected the music. Qube drummed her fingers against her staff as she pondered the implications. It made sense; her connection to the music had appeared at a point she was delving deeper into the domain she’d mentally marked as being closer to the Devs’.

But what was the point of the Devs making music? Was it supposed to help them know when they were in danger, like the battle music? But also how much control did they have over her world, if they could directly influence the music she was hearing at any point?

“Chosen One,” she asked, grabbing the metaphorical bull by the horns, “do you remember that battle music you were talking about once?”

“Sure,” the Chosen One said, as he started leading them to the inn.

“Do the Devs make that music?”

There was a slight hesitation in the Chosen One’s step.

“The Devs made everything in the world,” he replied with a strange amount of caution. “So yeah.”

“But they make other music too, don’t they? Not just battle music.”

The Chosen One looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” he said, now sounding outright suspicious.

“Why?” she asked.

“People like listening to music,” he said eventually.

“But how much control do they have over it? How does it know when to change to battle music?”

The Chosen One rubbed one of his eyes.

“How do the leaves know to make a rustling sound when the wind blows?” he asked.

Qube was stunned into absolute silence at this incredibly profound statement.

“Hey, that sounded really smart, didn’t it?” the Chosen One asked, ruining the moment.

“How do the leaves know—” Qube started only to have the Chosen One cover her face.

“Ssssh,” he said, “no more questions. Let me have this moment of sounding cool and mysterious.”

Qube pulled his hand away from her face indignantly. “Chosen One, is this just your way of admitting you don’t know?” she asked once she was able to talk.

“What, are you questioning my wisdom?” the Chosen One asked, sounding offended.

“I—” Qube spluttered, trying to think of a non-offensive way of saying “Yes, absolutely.”

“Because you should,” the Chosen One continued. “I have no idea.”

Qube resisted the urge to throw her shiny new staff at the Chosen One, an impulse that was easily controlled as they reached the inn, and were within shouting distance of the Exiled Prince and Exiled Princess’s agent, Zakora. Whatever her personal feelings might be, she wasn’t going to start anything in front of near-Royalty. Invisible or not, there were things that just weren’t done, and hitting her friend, a mighty Hero, in view of someone important, was one of them.

Even if she knew the Chosen One didn’t care about such things at all. And she was invisible. Hopefully the others appreciated her restraint. As it was, she still had to stow her staff in her much-too-small backpack, both for space reasons, and to avoid temptation.

And that prophecy cursed music had started skipping again!

As it turned out, Qube needn't have worried about looking strange in front of Zakora, seeing as the entire inn had been overrun by chickens.

“Okay,” the Chosen One said, as a chicken sitting on Zakora’s shoulder gently groomed the half-orc’s hair while the barkeep continued cleaning glasses, “that is definitely not normal. I don’t know if it’s glitch weird or what, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s supposed to be happening.”

Qube eyes the hens suspiciously, remembering that, according to the Chosen One, at least half of the Devs were some kind of ascended chicks. The chicken on Zakora’s shoulder turned its head, either looking Qube dead in the eyes or staring into space with the curious intensity that only poultry could manage.

“Stay outside,” Qube said, forestalling a very excited Squiggles, who was already reaching for the closest chook. Squiggles, giving her a very betrayed look, tried to cuddle up to Sexy Screamy Spider Lady.

“No, sweetie, she’s right, those beaks look like they could give you a nasty peck,” the Hunter cooed, picking up the sharktopus and carefully depositing her outside. Squiggles, who had faced off against some of the most terrifying creatures the world had to offer, made a small whining noise as she curled a tentacle around Sewer Bard’s ankle, and tugged.

“Alas, my fair lady, I would never dare go against such strong-willed beauties as these two,” Sewer Bard said, gently disentangling himself from Squiggles’s grasp.

“Only because you agree with us,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said, tossing her hair back. “Don’t try to make us the bad guys.”

Definitely Bad Guy looked around at that, and caught Squiggles now trying to give him puppy dog eyes. He gave her a solemn stare, before reaching over and opening up a window, allowing a few of the chickens to escape into the street. Like a shot, Squiggles was off, chasing after her new friends/food.

“Squiggles!” Qube exclaimed, exasperated. “Make sure you come back once you’ve finished playing!” she called as Squiggles slorped around a corner, giving up on getting the pet back anytime soon. She turned back to the inn just in time to see the Chosen One poking one of the chickens with his Sacred Sword.

“Be careful with chickens!” Qube said nervously. “You don’t want to get their feathers in a ruffle!”

Why had she said such a weak pun? She shook her head to clear it, as the Chosen One leaned down and whispered loudly in the chicken’s ear.

“You’re lucky,” he told the hen, “in the beginning I would have tried kicking you.”

Sexy Screamy Spider Lady tried to fit herself into one of the low tables with the regulars, only to send the drinks (and a few chooks) flying. The amber liquids flung out of the cups spiralled and shuddered in the air, before splattering everywhere. This set off even more chickens, who started running around, causing far more feathers than should be healthy for a hen to lose to forcefully eject themselves into the smoky atmosphere.

“Stop them from moving so much!” Qube said, pulling at her hair in stress. “They’re going to go bald! Or worse, rampage!”

The others didn’t know the horrors of a chicken rampage. Once it started, the fowl creatures were unstoppable, each feather they shed seeming to summon more hens, all born with the desire to end life. Qube had only ever seen one rampage, back in the village, but it was indelibly seared into her mind.

“Personal space!” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady snapped as several chickens were swallowed into her body pockets. The Chosen One was too busy trying to give Zakora’s chicken alcohol to try and help, Definitely Bad Guy was just watching the whole thing with detached interest, and Sewer Bard…

Sewer Bard sighed, and unslung his lute.

“As you wish,” he said, giving Qube a smile. “Everyone, cover your ears!”

That got the party’s attention. Everyone slapped their hands over their ears, just before the Bard sang. Despite not being able to hear the ballad, Qube could still feel it in her body. The power it held was immense, seeming to vibrate within her.

Which made it all the more disconcerting when it only caused the hens to pause, before continuing their chaos.

For the first time Sewer Bard’s fingers stumbled, and he looked at the hens in disbelief. Even the other patrons, who hadn’t heeded the Bard’s warning, seemed unaffected by [The Bard’s Ballad]. They stopped, that was true, but there wasn’t the big reaction that the party expected.

Several of them were now looking at Qube, however. But even that seemed more like mild interest, rather than the normal world-shattering revelation it had been every other time.

Not that Qube minded that! It was rather nice to not have people react like the tops of their heads had been unscrewed and forbidden knowledge poured into their brains every time someone first saw her.

Since Sewer Bard had now stopped playing, the others took this as their cue to start listening to the world again.

The Inn Bard who generally crooned in a corner near the fireplace nodded her head at a bewildered Sewer Bard. It was hard to hear her over the clucking of the chickens, but it sounded like she was saying: “Ah, yes, I like that song.”

The Chosen One, having successfully gotten Zakora’s chicken to drink a bit from a frothy mug, was now watching the bird with avid interest.

“You have something for me?” Zakora asked dryly. If she was at all upset about the pandemonium in her inn, she didn’t show it. Instead she was staring at Qube with the same intensity as her chicken, her hands never pausing in their task of wiping the inside of a mug.

“Oh yeah,” the Chosen One said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small, sunlike gem he’d gotten from the Light Temple. It was the first time that they’d only gotten one item for completing a Temple, since Akela had refused to give them her gem. Qube waited to see if Zakora would even reward them for only having half their usual gem count.

Zakora broke eye contact with Qube to give the gem a dull look. Her mouth worked for a few seconds, but no sound came out. The half-orc frowned, before putting down the eternally-cleaned mug.

“They gave me something to give you,” she said, in stark contrast to the double-speak she’d employed last time. She drummed thick fingers against the bar counter. Abruptly she looked up and pinned the Chosen One with her attention.

“You’re going to save the kingdom, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice almost a growl. “Everyone who’s suffered, my inn, even those two kids who were taken by the Evil Emperor, you’re going to get revenge for us all, right?”

The Chosen One looked slightly alarmed by the seriousness of the barkeep. He shot Qube a panicked look, but before he could answer Sewer Bard smoothly stepped into the awkward silence.

“My beautiful bar mistress,” the Bard said, bowing to Zakora. “I have travelled with this Hero and his party for many moons and I can say with utter certainty that, while his manners are, perhaps, rough, I have seen proof that he understands the plight of those less fortunate than him.”

The Chosen One looked touched at the tribute.

“I hope I do not speak out of turn when I say that, despite his erratic behaviour and destructive ways, the Chosen One is someone we can count as an ally.”

The Chosen One looked slightly less touched by this addendum, but still reached over and clapped the Bard on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Sewer Bard,” he said, pausing when he saw the Bard reach over and attempt to kiss the back of Zakora’s hand. As Zakora stared in bewilderment at his courtly manners, he used the opportunity to put his other hand behind his back, and make shoo-ing motions at the Hero.

“Now, my precious proprietor, why do you ask?” Sewer Bard asked, giving the barkeep a melting look.

Zakora used her free hand to reach under the bar, and pulled out four tokens.

“If you’re really going to save us, then why should I hold back?” she asked, and slammed the tokens onto the counter.