"A lot... Farms on other-" something. "No. You don't have-" the same something.

"What are—" something "—?"

Vague gesture. "Squares of land. Home, land is always square or triangle... But not here."

"...squares in all directions? Not sphere?"

"Not spheres. And no... Melting, below. Square just ends. They fall sometimes. Fates like me, make more squares. Can't make squares above or below, won't attach to... World cloth?"

"I don't understand. But staying still not understanding, not helping."

She nods. "This is the Protectorate's temple," she says, approximating headquarters. "The Protectorate protects people from monsters and other things. We will try to find someone to help communicate."

"Capes are organized. Good. I hope you fight less. Fates fighting can make hundreds of squares fall."

Pause. "We fight more but we are less powerful."

"...Okay. Good overall. And this sphere is not as unstable as the squares, that helps. You want me to join the Protectorate? I might be willing, until this form dies and I respawn in one of my own temples. I hope whatever error sent me here is a one-time mistake. Need to learn more about both things..."

Alexandria doesn't recognize some of those words, but infers from context. "We would be very glad to have you with us, but your power is perhaps not good for small things."

"I can do small. Roads, buildings, statues, pulling useful things from my stone." She taps her helmet's visor. "Diamond. Hardest rock. I prefer to build than fight, anyway. You don't build, just fight?"

"Some build, most powers are geared towards conflict or work best in such a situation."

"Annoying. Fates source: Do big magic, don't die doing big magic. Magic didn't work when I tried it, though. Capes source?"

Shrug. "No one knows. I will show you the place."

"I'm not really used to workplaces so... Crowded. If I work with the Protectorate, I want to live on one of my mountains."

Pause. "On one of your yous?"

Blink. The paper from earlier is fetched, squeezed between two pebbles, and she draws. "This is a mountain. My name is also mountain, because that's what kind of Fate I am. It wasn't always my name, I used to be called Jeda."

"I understand. Do I call you mountain?"

"Yes, please. And about 'my mountains,' I will listen to advice on where they ought to go, but there will be at least one. I'll go back to that island I only saved half of, if nothing else."

"Can you use a mountain that exists—past?" She doesn't know how to say 'already.'

"I would tunnel into it, but yes, that will work."

"Then this is a problem that can be solved." She leads mountain into the building, and various uniformed people ask her various questions and she types in passwords on keypads by doors to get in.

She understands nonzero amounts of English by now, but doesn't really try to put this knowledge to use. She idly shapes a hunk of iron in one rock-armored palm into various things, instead. Pure metal is tricky, and so is detail work, it's a good focus exercise.