When he first saw the black robe glistening with blood, Vance became almost sure that the Blessing of Amirani was more powerful a curse than anything he had experienced. The robe belonged to Severus; the blood belonged to Severus. Had the sly Necromancer cast a last-minute spell to resurrect himself as a vindictive undead? Was it an unknown Skill or an obscure Perk that sent his mangled corpse on a ludicrous quest for revenge? Vance chuckled with both disbelief and dismay; he had never encountered an enemy so tenacious, and he was confident that he never would.

As he prepared to dispose of the Necromancer for the second time, however, his eyes were met with a sight that dispelled the illusion of the vengeful return and made him burst into laughter.

“Hinjaoor! Ow-geichen-hujma!”

The child goblin that had helped him before stepped out of the bushes. It held the black robe in its hands like a thief’s sack and staggered with the weight of its contents. A loud jingle came from inside the robe every time it moved. And although Vance had dreaded this sound only seconds ago, it now made him laugh at his own exaggerated fears. The little rascal followed me all the way from the Crimson Drop. What does it want from me? Vance smiled and walked out of his hiding place. Banish Spectre. He stopped a few steps away from the goblin and looked down at it.

“You caused me quite the scare, little buddy.”

“Ow-geichen-hujma!” the child goblin said. A bright smile appeared on its face when it saw Vance. It placed Severus’s robe on the ground and unfolded it to reveal a pile of human ribs and precious necklaces. It seemed that it couldn’t tell the difference between them, and a proud pose conveyed that it considered them all equally valuable. “Barqaj-khai-gamjoor!”

Vance couldn’t understand a word, but the goblin’s gestures and movements gave him a vague idea of what it wanted to say. He bent down and grabbed one of the necklaces. As he waved it back and forth between him and the goblin, he said, “Are you giving this to me? Is this a present?”

“Hinjaoor!” the goblin cheered. “Ow-shkajen-hujma!”

“That’s really nice of you, little buddy,” Vance smiled and patted the goblin on the head. “You brought me much more than I had to pay today.”

“Hinjaoor!”

“Go back to your friends now. They must be worried about you.”

Vance folded the robe again and carried the loot away. When he reached his front door, he stopped and noticed that the goblin was still following him. What does it want now? He opened the door and entered the small worship hall. Before he could close the door behind him, the goblin had entered too. It was cheerful and frolicsome, jumping to the height of his chest and dancing in circles as if around an imaginary fire. No matter how hard he tried, Vance couldn’t logically explain this odd behavior. Monsters—the salamanders, for example—had been friendly around him before, but none of them expressed this much happiness in his presence. Maybe it’s expecting a reward of some sort.

Vance went downstairs to his underground room and returned with two pieces of beef. He had bought them a few days ago and preserved them in a barrel of Livid Salt. They would’ve served as today’s dinner, but he was willing to give half of the feast to the goblin, since he couldn’t imagine what else it would want other than food. And so he extended his arm with one piece of the meat. It had a dark rich color and dripped with appetizing juices, but the goblin displayed strange self-control, as though it had suddenly developed abstemious habits. Vance extended his other hand with the second piece. The goblin began to drool, but it still didn’t touch the meat.

Maybe it’s on a diet. Vance chuckled. A goblin gotta watch its figure. He went underground again and fetched the rest of the ingredients needed to make a hearty stew. Can it resist it when it’s cooked, though? Accepting the challenge, he headed to the firepit and, in a little more than an hour, recreated a quick stew recipe to perfection. Under his guidance, the meat turned tender, tasty, and flavorful, while the vegetables glistened and released mouth-watering smells. He served himself a good portion and then placed the rest of the pot in front of the goblin. But to his utter surprise, it still didn’t eat.

Well, I tried everything. Vance picked up his spoon and began to enjoy the dish. As he swallowed the second bite, he heard a loud splash. He looked up and saw the goblin’s arm dipped into the pot. It was so deep inside that even the elbow had disappeared. The thick green skin protected it from burns as it fished for the meat. Whenever the goblin found a piece, it threw it up, jumped in the air, and snatched it with its teeth. Then it chewed and cheered and chewed and cheered. It had never tasted food this good, and there was sincere gratitude in its sparkly eyes.

This should be enough for it to leave. Vance stood up and yawned loudly. I’m glad the day ended on a good note. He drank water from the well before he used his outdoor bathroom. Another fight would’ve been just too much. He stretched his arms, turned with drowsy steps, and headed inside his home. He closed the front door and then the curtains. And after he changed his clothes, he lay on the white sheets and covered himself in a light blanket. A candle was the only light remaining in the underground room, and he put it out with a gentle blow.

“Goodnight,” he said to himself, as he hugged a pillow.

“Guuj-nai?”

Vance opened his eyes wide and raised his head with a start. The child goblin was lurking somewhere in the darkness. He searched right and left but couldn’t determine where exactly. Don’t tell me … Is it after the rest of the meat in the salt barrel? He needed to turn on the lights to check his storage, but his tired body refused to obey him, especially now that he was finally ready for sleep.

It’s fine. Yeah, it’s perfectly fine. A lopsided smile covered his face. It doesn’t have the stomach to eat the whole stock. And he who does not trust a goblin will not be trusted, or some other shit like that. He sighed and sank back into his bed. I’ll deal with the little rascal first thing in the morning. First thing … in the …

***

Vance woke up at sunrise to find the curtains open and the goblin gone from the room. His first reaction was to curse at the sunlight. He couldn’t get up yet, so he buried his head under the blanket and wallowed in somnolence until four in the afternoon. Then he got up and checked his stock. None of the meat was gone. Maybe it just needed somewhere to spend the night. He realized that a lonely goblin was an easy target for Royal Moths, and it made sense that it would want to stay somewhere safe until morning. It didn’t have to open the curtains, though. He sighed. It really hit me where it hurts.

After going through his morning routine, Vance washed the dishes and did the laundry at the well. Then he dressed up and left for Cromsville. He was still intrigued by the goblin’s odd behavior, so he paid a quick visit to the House of Enlightenment—the most comprehensive library in Cromsville. And with the help of the erudite librarians, he located the bookcases with the literature on goblins. There were around 50 hardcovers. Few of them dealt exclusively with goblins, but they all mentioned the green monsters in one context or the other, mostly to illustrate combat techniques or the so-called subjugation theories.

A Swordsman’s Guide to Battling Small Monsters, City Planning and the Goblin Menace, Goblins: Beyond Sticks and Stones, A Beginner’s Guide to Surviving Goblin Attacks—the titles were copious and colorful, but none seemed to be addressed to a person with Vance’s special perspective. He was about to lose interest, but as he turned away, his eyes caught sight of a spine with an unusual inscription. Goblin Social Behavior. He read the three words, and they piqued his interest. He opened the book and checked the first few pages. It was another humble guide for beginners, but it based its combat techniques and battle tactics on the group dynamics of goblin tribes—an unorthodox approach, to say the least.

Vance wanted to read it then and there, but he was already late for work, so he went to the front desk and borrowed it for a week. After he slipped it into his bag, he left the House of Enlightenment in a hurry. The streets weren’t busy, because it was already the end of the day, and it took him only a few minutes to arrive at the Sunshine Tavern. He pushed the door quickly and entered with long strides. The tables were already full of customers, and the waitresses were rushing to appease them with drinks and smiles.

“Hi, Vance,” Bianca smiled at him, as she passed by with several steins.

Vance smiled back at her and then headed to the kitchen door.

“You’ve got six orders already,” the tavern keeper said from behind the bar. “I expect customers to start nagging me in 40 minutes.”

Vance nodded.

Inside the kitchen, he tied his hair into a small bun and wore a white beret to cover it. This cap was the official headwear for Cromish chefs, and it declared that he was the sole master of the kitchen. With a quick motion of the hand, he snatched the order slips that were pinned to the tiled wall. It took him only a moment to scan them. Then he turned around and called, “Nathan! Nathan!” There was no immediate reply, so he stepped out of the kitchen and searched the customer tables.

On the left side, there was a 15-year-old sitting alone at a table for four. He covered his hair with a blue bandana, which was decorated with the comical drawing of a winking skull. His head rested on his right hand, and its weight made his elbow slide slowly along the smooth surface of the table. He had a dreamy look on his ruddy face. A stranger would’ve thought that he was drunk, but the truth was that he had never tasted alcohol in his life. His green eyes were chasing the waitresses who were walking across the room, and it was the flutter of their skirts that had made his cheeks so red.

“Man, kitchen staff miss out on a lot,” Vance said.

“I know, right?” Nathan’s mouth widened into a silly smile.

“Why can’t goblins kidnap our chefs for a day or two?”

“I wish.” Nathan grinned, watching Bianca as she passed by. “I’d get a nice paid holiday, and I'd spend it here in this heaven.”

“No, a day or two aren’t enough. You know what? The goblins should just cut their bodies up and throw the pieces in the gutter.”

“What? No, man!” A disturbed look appeared on Nathan’s face. Waking up from his daydreams, he turned his head to check who had sat next to him. “I wouldn't go as far as to say tha-aaat!” As soon as he saw Vance, his head slid off his hand and hit the hard table. He raised it again quickly and began to sweat profusely. “I-I’d never wish for someone’s death!”

“Hmm,” Vance smiled. “But you still want the goblins to kidnap me, right?”

“N-N-No … I … W-Well, of course not!” Nathan said. “Only for a day or two! That’s what I said, Vance! Only for a day or two!”

The two walked together back to the kitchen.

“What did I tell you to do if I was late?” Vance put on a white kitchen apron and adjusted the heat of an Ezran oven. “Perhaps you need a quick reminder.” He chopped a fish’s head off with a large kitchen knife. “V is for …”

“Victory!” Nathan shouted confidently. Then he saw Vance’s expression and turned even redder with embarrassment. “Don’t make that face! It makes me feel you’ve lost hope in me!” He slapped both of his cheeks simultaneously, as if to wake himself up from a trance. “I remember now! You told me to wash and dice the vegetables.”

“And what’s that under the sink, Nathan?” Vance said, with a calm smile. “What’s inside that magical little basket?”

“The vegetables.”

“Are they washed, Nathan?”

“Come on, stop it already!” Nathan stamped to the sink and turned the water faucet. “You could’ve just told me to wash them, man. You wasted as much time as I did!”

“We both had our fun,” Vance said.

After that, the two worked in silence until they had cleared the backlog of orders. The last late dish found its place on the kitchen window. Then Bianca picked it up from there and went to deliver it to the right table. As she walked away, Nathan watched her slender figure with a blushing face. The workload was now much less than before, and he seemed ready to lose himself in his dreamy world. In the end, however, he couldn’t separate himself from reality, because Vance was glaring in the background. And so he returned to dicing vegetables and washing rice, albeit grudgingly.

“I heard you found yourself a party,” Nathan said, standing at the sink with a colander. “Bianca was all giddy and jolly about it.”

“They kicked me out,” Vance said, as he prepared a roast for the oven. “Right before the registration. They said I wasn’t good enough.”

“But I heard a monk vouched for you ’cause you were a goody two shoes.”

“The other three didn’t like me. We had a fight on the way to the guild.”

“Ouch. Sorry to hear that, man. Really hurts.”

Vance put the roast in the oven and said, “And how are things going for you?”

“Not that great,” Nathan said. “Remember that party I told you about? The one I was trying to join?”

“Yeah.”

“They wanted me to prove I’m worthy of their exalted company.” Nathan imitated a stereotypical nobleman, puffing his chest and raising his chin. “They told me to kill six Royal Moths and return with proof of my achievement.”

Vance laughed.

“Do you understand how stupid that is? For starters, just ’cause I’m a Pyromancer, they want me to burn moths. Those pea-brains couldn’t think of anything else: Pyromancer equals moth trap.”

“Nathan Mothtrap sounds like a good name if you ever become a nobleman.”

“Come on, Vance,” Nathan laughed. “And this proof of my achievement thing. What the hell am I supposed to bring back after the moths burn to dust?”

“The aforementioned dust, of course.”

“And how is that any proof? I could just get them the dust under my bed, and they wouldn’t know the damn difference!”

“It’s good you never joined that party,” Vance smiled. “That’s all I can say.”

“You think?” Nathan laughed. He paused a little before he added, “You and I, we deserve much better.”

Vance checked the roast in the oven before he quipped, “At least, I do.”

“You think you’re better than me, Level 5?”

“I’m not sure whether you realize it, Pyro-boy,” Vance said, “but you waste most of your time in this very tavern.”

“I wanna find myself a girlfriend.”

“But you don’t even talk to the girls. You just watch them like a creep.”

“I-It’s not easy to carry a conversation,” Nathan said.

“You’re talking fine now.”

“Yeah, ’cause it’s you, Vance. It’s different with the waitresses.”

“And do you ever ask yourself why it’s different?”

“It’s got to do with math.”

“Huh?”

“The lines and curves, Vance. They confuse the hell outta me.”

Nathan was about to laugh at his own joke, but Vance said, “You’re right. It’s got to do with math. The girls here are too old for you, and you share nothing in common because of the age gap.”

“Suddenly, you’re the dating expert, huh?” Nathan scoffed.

“I’m trying to save you the frustration,” Vance said. “You should look for girls your age. And when you hit it off with one of them, maybe then you could start dating. That’s how things work. Anything else is a waste of time.”

“Thank you, O wise kitchen sage! How blind I have been!” Nathan tried to bow in derision, but he ended up hitting his nose against the faucet. “Ouch!”

“You deserved that,” Vance said.

After this last exchange, the two returned to working in silence. When the spicy roast was done, Vance took it out of the oven and placed it on the kitchen window. Bianca carried it away but didn’t leave new order slips. The kitchen closed every day at midnight. It was the end of the work shift, and Vance began to clear the kitchen counters. He washed and put away the pots and pans. Then he collected the scraps and leftovers, opened the kitchen’s back door, and gave them to a hungry beggar—a lanky man who waited in the alley every night and who re-echoed the same heartfelt thanks every time.

After this little act of kindness, it was finally time to go home. As Vance took off his white beret, however, Bianca reappeared at the window and said without much context, “Vance, could you come for a second?” Then she disappeared.

“What does she want at this hour?” Nathan said, with puerile envy. “And why is she asking for you alone?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Pyro-boy. I’ll go check.”

After putting his apron and beret away, Vance left the kitchen and found Bianca standing near the bar. She was talking to the tavern keeper about a change in her work shifts. The discussion painted a serious look on her face, but when she saw Vance approaching, it changed into a bright smile. She picked up her tray and hopped a step closer like some species of wild rabbit. The cute move surprised Vance a little, but then he realized that she was only avoiding a puddle of spilled beer. It was a rare instance where cuteness was the side effect of practicality.

“You needed me?” he said.

She said something in reply, but a group of drunk customers were singing and dancing to the music of an accordion, so it was difficult to hear her words. Vance had her repeat herself more than three times. Every time she finished, he gave her a confused look, and she only laughed in response. She gestured for him to splash some beer at the old accordion player—to make him stop the deafening music—but Vance shook his head and laughed at the suggestion. He knew that the drunken brawls started as soon as the music died.

With no other option left, he bent forward, and she shouted directly into his ear canal. Only then did he finally make out her fugitive words, or at least an approximation of them: “The customer who ordered the roast—he wanted to see the chef. Wants to thank you before you leave—seems like a fan of your cooking.”

“Where is he?” Vance said.

“What? Raise your voice!”

“Where is he?”

“Over there!”

Vance thanked her and walked over to the table that she pointed out.

Raine was sitting alone in front of the half-eaten roast. He wore the farcical clothes of a bard and even had a five-string lute beside him. His eyeglasses were missing, and his hair was hanging loose. When he saw Vance, he affected a friendliness that was almost nauseating. He praised the luscious food and the heartwarming ambience of the tavern. Half of his flowery speech was lost to the noise of the revelers, but none of it was worth repeating anyway. In the end, he stood up and asked if Vance could show him to the nearest inn. Then the two walked out of the tavern arm in arm.

When the lights and the revelry faded behind them, Vance pulled Raine’s satin cape and said with a jocular nudge, “Sing me a song, troubadour.”

“You won’t like the lyrics,” Raine said curtly.

The two stopped on the corner of the street. After they were sure that no one was following them, they crossed to the other side and slunk into a dark alley. And it was there that the serious conversation began.

“While you were playing around in your little toy tavern, I was sweating like a pig and risking my entire career,” Raine said. “Is that why you were rushing me yesterday? To have more carefree time with the tavern girls?”

“Don’t give me that,” Vance said. “You know I wasn’t playing around.”

“It sure looked like it to me. You had no care in the world, playing cook and flirting with that waitress.”

“You’re right. I should’ve acted like a fucking sociopath,” Vance said. The lights turned on in an adjacent house, so he seized Raine’s arm and dragged him away in a hurry. As they moved to another dark alley, he said, “What’s wrong? What are you so worked up about, Raine? Did the guild open an investigation?”

“No.”

“Did you lose the key to the cabinets?”

“No.”

“Then what? I’ve never seen you like this.”

Raine stopped walking, wrenching his arm free. He clapped a hand over his forehead and averted his eyes in discomfort. When he regained his composure, he said, “The paper you wanted, the form that had your name … It’s gone. It’s not at the guild anymore.”

“That’s a job well done, then.”

“But I’m not the one who made it disappear,” Raine said. “In fact, I strained every nerve, but I couldn’t find a single document with the ID you gave me. Nil. Naught. Zero.”

“What the hell are you saying?” Vance couldn’t believe his ears. “Look, you must’ve heard it wrong or mixed up the numbers.”

“2633721. That’s it, right?”

Vance froze. He couldn’t even nod in affirmation.

“2-6-3-3-7-2-1. Is this number correct? I need an answer, Vance.”

“Yes … Yes, it’s correct.”

“I checked all the relevant records and cabinets, but this ID never showed up anywhere,” Raine said, with a matter-of-fact tone. “As far as I can tell, the party you joined has been erased from the database. It doesn’t exist … and, at least on paper, never even existed.”