“Go! Go! Don’t stop! Go!”

Gorren shouted, herding the goblins in the barn. Thankfully, the stupid little monsters had part of their destructive impulses already satiated by the raid on the sprite glade. Albeit squabbling and protesting loudly, they obeyed, rather than charge toward the house the humans had ran to. Well, almost. He still had to push and club the most stubborn, and wave the fire-wreathed tip of his staff to emphasize that he wasn’t asking.

Chattering and shouting, the gaggle of goblins half-tumbled half-swarmed beyond the door he had shattered.

“Through the portal!” Gorren shouted. “Now!”

Responding to his mental prompting, the portal opened, appearing like a black tear into space. The goblins screeched at seeing it, those on front scrambling against those behind to get away from it.

“There’s nothing to get scared of, you morons! It’s just a door!” Gorren shouted angrily. He was at his patience’s end with these witless creatures. Blocking the barn’s door, he clubbed each and every goblin that tried to get out again, sending them tumbling back in the mass. Many pairs of scared eyes fixed on him.

“Go through it! Go or i’ll roast you all!” He shouted, and his staff blazed with fire.

That did the trick. Between the flame and the strange black thing, the goblins decided that at least the second wasn’t going to burn them. Squealing and pushing each other, they swarmed toward the fissure. The portal gobbled them up like an angry mouth, opening wide to welcome them all.

In the blink of an eye, the barn was empty again. Apart from the trampled dirt, no trace of the goblins remained.

Letting out a huff, Gorren extinguished his staff. He just wanted to be done with that stupid excursion, but there was still something he had to do.

He peeked out of the door and toward the farmstead. It was a sturdy two-store bulding, standing right in front of the barn and separated from it by a somewhat large open space. He could hear alarmed shouts, panicked voices and the sound of chattering wood coming from it. The farmers were probably trying to bar the entrances, thinking that a hungry horde of goblins would try to force its way in at any moment.

Good. Just what he needed.

Keeping his head down, he scurried towards the building that stood beside the farmstead. No voices came from there but the cries of scared animals. Gorren couldn’t blame them. If he only so much smelled something resembling a goblin in his tower, he would start screeching too.

Before the building there was what seemed a miniature replica of a house, closed by a small door. Opening the latch, he looked inside. A bunch of alarmed-looking hens looked back at him. They all bunched together, hovering protectively over clutches of chicks that peeked at him through the plumage. The only one on his feet, a large roster observed him with haughty ferocity, showing off a magnificent panache.

The best would be to get that monster of earlier. Ironic justice.

Deciding that wasn’t the time to be picky, Gorren stabbed with two fingers toward the animals. Both the roster and the largest hen stiffened. He gestured, and they started to march mechanically towards him, followed by a line of chicks.

Gorren stood aside to let them pass, then closed the door and put the hatch back in place.

With a gesture, he sent the animals marching toward the barn, while he made a beeline for the building. He had to labor a bit to open the door, but eventually managed to enter. The smells of wet straw and animal fur wafted over him. He found himself into a somewhat large stable. Two stalls filled half of the place, each holding a horse that watched him.

Both the beasts immediately went into a frenzy, starting to neigh and jump.

Gorren ignored them. He got it. That world natural creatures had no love for him. He had had enough of a confirm when the earth refused to drink his blood.

He wasn’t going to lie: it hurt. To know for certain that the world he was born and grown and lived into wasn’t his world anymore, that he wouldn‘t have been never welcome into it again. When he had realized it, it had felt like someone was trying to rip his heart out; now, only if that same hand was squeezing. Eh, only.

Marching down the stalls, and ignoring the horses’ frantic backing down, he went to a series of rickety boxes fixed to the wall. Opening one, he saw rabbits trembling in the dark.

Too little. I need two big ones.

He noticed a large box, almost like a cabinet. Maybe there? Strangely, the latch was already open. Shrugging, he opened the little door.

There were two big rabbits there, probably the breeders of the farm. There was something else also. Or better, someone.

The child had to be ten at best. Hazel hair fell on her shoulders, with soft curls at the end. She didn’t move, didn’t scream, barely even breath. Clutching the hems of her long, patched dress with little fists, she watched him with eyes large as saucers, both the color of the summer sky.

He watched back, frozen. They remained like that for a moment, goblin and child staring to each other in silence.

Gorren hesitated, like he had done with the elf. He could create much with the Crucible, but he couldn’t create life. He could create blood, but it was dead blood, without that unreplicable essence that put mind and body into motion and that a mage could harness for his aims. He couldn’t replicate the wonderful medium that elf blood was, like he couldn’t replicate the silent spark that marked every mage. The same that he now saw in that child, clear and bright like a star.

For someone with the skills and the knowledge, there were many, many uses for something like that. It could be extracted, and then used as the centerpiece of a wondrous Mana Generator, one that would solve his energy problems for decades to come, or as the Core of a massively powerful Golem.

Also, Mana was life, and he couldn’t replicate it. An apprentice, appropriately molded, could become unvaluable as an additional source of Mana, as a helper, as a companion…

Am i not already outside of this world? Why should i care? And even then, my vengeance, my research… that is everything i must think about, everything that matters. If i can accelerate it, even if by only a moment, why shouldn‘t i take the chance fate offers me? I am the victim here. I deserve it.

Sneering, he stabbed with his fingers.

The child stiffened, then wobbled, then slumped into a heap.

Gorren get out of the way. The two rabbits jumped out, just a moment before he slammed the door closed.

Sneer still in place, he put his forehead against the wood, trying to still the shaking.

“Curse you, Timothy.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

Sounds of steps and shouts called him back from his frenzied thoughts. The farmers! They must have noticed that there was a family member missing!

“Martha! Martha!” Someone called.

Gorren grabbed both rabbits and dashed out of the door. As he did, he had the vision of a large man rushing out of the farmstead. His rough features were twisted into a scowl of absolute fear and he held two hatchets.

As he ran toward the barn, Gorren heard him shout something, but couldn’t understand thw roeds. He heard the stable’s door slam and, thankfully, no rushed paces to indicate a chase. The farmer must have ran inside for his daughter.

That word sent a rush of shame through him, but he refused to aknowledge it, and ran faster instead.

He careened into the barn, sheer momentum almost sending him tumbling into the dirt before he managed to stop. Mind rushing, he sent the rabbits hopping into the portal, but then stopped.

He couldn’t leave like that. He had to do a last thing.

He frantically looked around, searching for the right tool and finding none. Giving up with a snarl, he brought his hand to his mouth and bit in it.

The tang of blood filled his mouth. Spitting, he left droplets fall to the ground.

His heart squeezed at seeing how the earth refused to absorb them, but he ignored it. There was power there, power that he could harness.

Focusing, he pulled on the motes of power gravitating the droplets and activated the trasmutation. The droplets shifted and hardened.

Gorren didn’t remain to see his work‘s completion. Differently from the instinct-led work he did with the elf, this time he already knew what it would happen.

Still, a familiar sound coming from the hay stopped him. Quickly, he went to where it had come and rustled around. His eyes lit when he found the source, but he didn’t stop to appreciate the unexpected discovery.

Wrapping up his prize in a bundle of hay that he then clutched at his chest, he dashed toward the way back home. The portal yawned open to welcome it, and he disappeared from the barn and the world.

As the tear fizzled out of existence, a small mounds of beautiful, tear-shaped black diamonds shimmered soflty between hay and dirt.

Gorren had no memory of getting into bed. The black ceiling of his box-shelter, and the feeling of his cot under him didn’t leave much room to debate though.

He remained laying down, trying to remember. From his jumping through the portal, his memories were kinda fuzzy, but slowly the pieces took their order back.

After stepping through the portal, he had the golems take the goblins into custody and had them escorted to a large room already prepared and stocked with food and water. The animals, instead, he had directed his guards to put in the menagerie, in the cages waiting for them. Thankfully, the goblins had been too busy ogling the new place to regard them. Apart from the fright, none of them was wounded.

He sighed, relieved. His prizes were secured, thanks goodness.

He passed a hand over his face, smiling a little. I am home.

He hadn’t noticed how he had come to regard that place as his new, real home. Or maybe it was a new thing, propelled by the realization he had made back in the material plane.

These things step like thieves in the night. They sneak to you before you notice, and when you do it’s too late to take back what they stole.

The thought was sobering, but he didn’t let it spoil the moment. The feeling of safely and belonging hugged him like a warm blanket, and he wallowed in it.

Just for a moment. Just a moment.

The bad thoughts conceded him that small reprieve, but eventually came back to siege him. There were measures to take, defences to build, stuff to do, a long list of them now that he had the resources.

He watched the featureless ceiling, thinking.

That little journey had been more fruitful that he hoped, even if a little… testing. Too much for comfort, but he was unwilling to dwell over it. Too many bad memories, and he had better ways to spend his mental focus on.

Carefully, he folded the faces of the child in the stable and the elf of the glade and sealed them into his memory library. They would stay there, and he… he would think about what they meant later. Yes, later.

With a sudden burst of energy, he jumped down the bed, mind already kicking into gear. The work! What else there was but the work? What greater joy than the work? To work! To work!

First of all, he made a thorough inspection of the compound, checking for damage occured during his absence.

The outer sphere was puctured in six different points and the Crux had flowed in, arriving to touch the cube’s wall. He had expected something like that to happen, so no golem nor automated defence mechanism was lost, the first having retreated inside and the second having been covered with a layer of Kor.

The cube itself showed some marring there and then, but apart from that nothing else. Especially, there were no holes. Now that he hadn’t urgency breathing down his neck, Gorren rebuked himself for not having taken more preucations. He had reinforced the walls of the cube before setting out, and closed off some of the chambers including the ritual room, but a single hole would have been enough for the Kor to stream right inside. Forget the stupid golems, he could have well lost all of his work to that point.

Bah! Whatever! It always was a gambit. It mattered only that he won it.

Pausing just enough to get a quick snack, he went to repair the damage right away. Pushing out the Crux was hard work, since he had to push it out using a curtain of Kor, but eventually the outer sphere was emptied and then sealed once again. He made a mental note to add to it sooner as possible.

After that, he checked the compound itself. Everything was exactly as he left it, not a thing out of place. Very good.

Next, his “guests”.

He knew from his studies that, differently from his form, living beings needed air to breath to survive. So, he had walled off some sections to use as corrals and filled all of his compound with breathable air summoned from the Crucible. The Kor acted as a good air-tight materials, so the operation had been simple enough. Also, he had drawed glyphs over walls and ceiling, to recreate in small part star influences, so that bodies and spirits would remain as healthy as they were in the material plane. Finally, he had embedded Mana Batteries in the walls and set them to release their contents in minimal quantities.

Raw Mana had mutative properties that were harmful to humans, but not goblins, that had a somewhat unstable physical and mental make-up. The Mana, set to be released as Light Mana would have a positive influece over them, strenghtening their bodies, raising their morale and, more importantly, preparing them for what he needed them for.

He didn’t enter the section. Instead, he willed a small sliver of the Kor to become transparent, so that he could peer inside.

The goblins were all bunched together into a pile, snooring loudly. The supplies he had left, normal food like soups, meat, bread and water and beer, were scattered all around them. The cauldrons had ben tipped over, their contents splattering everywhere. The chunks of meat had been gnawed and ripped apart, and then left there. All in all, the place looked like it had just witnessed the greatest food fight in history.

Gorren rolled his eyes in exasperation. How much those stupid creatures had passed there? Half a day? And it already looked like that. God forbid he was going to let even one of those stupid things out of there. Who knew what havoc they would wreak over his precious equpiment.

Shuddering at the thought, he closed the observation slit and stomped to the menagerie.

He found that both the rabbits and the chicken had been secured into their respective cages.

The hen hovered protectively over her chicks, looking all the parts the offended matron, while the roster stood guard over both, panache haughtily held high. In contrast, the two rabbits seemed to have somewhat resigned to their destiny, bunching together like an old man and an old lady waiting for things to happen. Their eyes still followed him while he inspected them, though.

Gorren was sastisfied. Even if he couldn’t reproduce life, a small farm of animals was a good close second. He also inteded to run some Mana tests over the animals, after reproduction of course. He would have to proced with more caution than the goblins, but he was confident he could improve them, make them stronger, bigger or something else, so that they could supply him with more materials.

Leaving the menagerie, he went for the laboratory. There, right on the table, the unexpected discovery he had made in the barn waited for him, bundled into hay.

Smiling, he moved aside the hay, revealing a small, twitching furry form. The mouse was smaller than his fist, her coat the color of gold. She nosed around frantically, trying to take in her new sorroundings while hovering protectively over a clutch of pink little things, smaller than his finger.

“Let me see…” Gorren cooed, and carefully grabbed hold of the mouse.

The animal wasn’t happy at all, and started to struggle. She even bit him, but her small teeth couldn’t penetrate his tough skin.

Ignoring her struggling, Gorren turned her this and that way, controlled her genitals and her skin, her eyes and the state of her fur. All in all, a somewhat healthy, middle-aged mouse mom. He judged that this wasn’t her first litter either. Very good.

Putting her down, he went to inspect the litter itself. The mom didn’t like that at all, and he had to put her under a spell to calm her down.

There were seven pups there, pink, blind little things that nestled one against the other in search of warmth. Gorren inspected them like he did with their mother. Apart from two, that looked sick, they were all sufficiently fat and robust. He judged that they would make it to maturity without any problem.

One attracted his attention. Differently from his brothers and sisters, this one didn’t squirm around. Instead, he stood still, little chest moving up and down quickly. Gorren could feel his life like a flicker of light, a butterfly beating his wings to stay afloat from the darkness.

He smiled a little. This one shows some potential.

Well, he would see.

He put the mother back over her litter, the pups immediately searching for warmth and milk, and patted her as an excuse for the rough treatment. Mom, litter and hay went into a little tub. It was supposed to be used for fermentation, but, eh, needs made the tools.

Straightening up, Gorren checked his to-do list.

Goblins, checked. Animals, checked. Mice, checked. What remained?

Ah, the fireflies.

He wasn’t gonna lie. He hated sprites. They were good for nothing, mischievious woodland creatures that played pranks over honest, working people while flaunting their statues as “protectors of the woods” and nonsense like that. If it depended from it, he would put them all to the torch, stupid wood included. Still, their fireflies were just the right kind of Mana-influenced animals a mage could make use of. Properly enchanted and infused, they would make for wonderful servants.

A quick control was enough to estabilish that the dazing spells still held. The fireflies stood in their cages, inert, just waiting for their moment.

Gorren crossed his arms before his chest, thinking. Now that he had animals, and more importantly, a source of living matter, he could proceed with his plans. Those creatures would provide him with living blood and animal Mana, both fundamental ingredients for his future defences.

But first he needed assistants, and for that he needed to wait for the goblins to be nice and infused. And then… He rubbed his hands together, cackling softly.

Turning, he walked back to his laboratory to start preparing the chemicals he would need, a little spring in his step.