I realize pretty soon after setting out that I can reabsorb the light orbs into my body, which makes things quite easy. My trail of crumbs is removed, and as I walk, I find the goblin body more and more inviting. I kind of miss having six legs, but knowing I can eject at any time makes me happier.

Soon enough, I find myself back in the storage, and things are suddenly very proportional to my own body. Cups and jars, once the size of horses and houses, are now only the size of, well, cups and jars.

Somehow, I know all of this is just a ham-fisted attempt to take my mind off of where I'm about to go and what I'm about to do. I haven't even gotten all the words unknotted yet, they're all curled up in my mind, topsy-turvy.

I push the drapery between the storage and the village to the side and walk out into the small collection of huts. The sun has yet to rise, but the sky is no longer black, so it won't be long until dawn. Swallowing shallowly, I glance about the huts, absently scanning them for the one I saw goblin-girl living in. I still don't know her relation to the one I killed, but considering that she was given his little finger, I'm sure she's the person to apologize to.

Finally, after less than five seconds of looking, my gaze falls on her little abode. She's probably still asleep. I hope I don't look any awkward, mother always said I wasn't any good at talking to people, but Chuck and Buddy still became my friends, despite it.

I look down at my body. Small and thin, it is very different to my past one. Not to brag, but I had always been the tallest one in the room. Sadly, I was also quite round, but I always attributed that to my muscular frame. That was my excuse, anyhoo. In hindsight, I was probably that odd middle ground between fat and muscular, but it never bothered me much. Chuck told me-,

I-, I'm stalling again, aren't I?...

Despite standing right outside her door, I still can't bring myself to so much as knock. My whole body is shivering, even if it isn't mine. On my neck, I can feel my actual body shivering as well, probably as a response to my mental troubles.

Gulping, I raise my fist to the door. I can't tell if I'm grimacing or completely stone-faced. It feels like both, somehow.

"Knock knock knock," I rap my knuckles against the crude wooden door and await a response. It seems the hut is made from a combination of clay, dirt and small rocks, which probably makes it surprisingly sturdy. With my knocking, I catch a closer glimpse at my body. I may have called it slim before, but it was actually surprisingly muscular, which I clearly remembered the other goblin wasn't. Which goblin? Well, uh, yeah, you know the one. He had a slightly pudgier form, but slim nonetheless.

Looking at my scarred and calloused hands, I wonder if I can use magic in this body, but before I have time to even try it, the door in front of me open up with a mild creaking, and out peeks a face. A pair of elongated canines pointed out from her face, and those bright yellow eyes of hers fall upon me. Her face, before confused and tired, light up in recognition, but she still seems confused.

"Warrior Chivick? Good greetings, late... no, early it is. May I help?" she asks, and if I had still been a human, I might have found her voice scratchy and deep, but with these goblin ears, it sounds almost beautiful. Feminine and kind. I open my mouth, and prepare the words I had thought up on the fly.

You have used temporary skill (Goblin Language)

"G-, good morning, may I enter?" I say, nodding towards the inside of her hut. Her nose wrinkles up, and she quints, brows furrowed. "It is urgent that I speak to yo-,"

I bite my tongue, but I don't let it show.

Her mouth flounders open and closed a few times, before standing to the side, hopefully in an attempt to let me inside. I nod, and enter, appearing much more confident than I feel.

After closing the door, she enters as well, following me closely.

The hut is, as expected, very small, barely the size of a normal room, if even that. The only things inside is a small bed, a shelf storing various trinkets, including the pinky finger, which looked kind of scary, but she didn't seem to mind it. Other than that, there was the skull of some sort of animal, and on the wall, a small painting had been nailed to it.

All and all, as barebones as it seemed, it was clearly a home, a place where someone lived. There were, however, no chairs, so I sat down on the bed, which was a good size for sitting on.

The goblin girl must have realized something was up, since she did not sit down next to me, instead almost glaring at me from where she stood. For some reason, she seemed just about ready to either stab at me with her knife or run away. Might be goblin instincts.

For a few seconds, we simply stared at each other, until I realized she was probably expecting me to say something. Sadly, I hadn't prepared this part yet. Perhaps a little axe-burying should soothe her nerves?... And, well, mine as well. They are still a bit frayed from my encounter with Mr King.

"...I am no enemy," I say, locking eye-contact with her where she stood. She flinched, but her gaze didn't back down. Another moment passes, and I realize I have absolutely no idea how to continue that statement. So, another few seconds pass, until she speaks.

"Then, you are... what?" she asks, her eyes trembling only slightly. I look down at the bare, stone floor, thoughts running through my mind. Really, I could lie. I could pretend this goblin I'm hijacking committed the murder. But, that would be... No. I'm not going to lie to her.

As she slowly crosses her arms, I stand up. Ignoring her flinching, I turn around, displaying my back. To any other goblin, this might not mean much of anything, but to me, I might as well be baring my neck to her. She doesn't say anything, so I slowly bring an arm around my back and point to my neck with my thumb. She gasps softly, and I turn back around to face her.

"I am an insect. I am hijacking this body, to talk to you," I say in the hopes that she will understand that I mean no harm. She looks pale, but I don't give her a moment to act. "I mean you no harm, I have not come for that. But if you attempt to flee, I will restrain you."

She grows paler, and I realize that what I just said probably came off as, well, a threat.

She draws her knife.

I raise my hands in surrender, but she advances, if slowly. I can tell she isn't used to carrying a knife, that she hasn't received proper training for it. Her hands are trembling. Soon, she's standing right in front of me, her eyes darting between the face I'm borrowing and where her knife is pointing, namely, my stomach.

"...Even if you kill this goblin, you will not harm me," I say in the hopes of making her, well, not kill this guy. I don't want to be responsible for two murders, damn it!

She bites her lip, the tip of her knife shaking slightly. She fixes her eyes into mine, and I stare back. I hope I'm not sweating. I feel like I'm sweating, but I'm probably not. A minute passes.

"I-, I call the warriors, they come here, they kill you, free Warrior Chivick," she mumbles. I shake my head slowly. Her eyes turn downcast, and with a final heave of her shoulders, a final tremour, she drops her knife and falls to her knees.

As I let my hands fall down again, she stares up at me, face twisted in despair.

"Why?" she asks, her voice hoarse and rough. I don't answer.

Instead, I walk over to her shelf, where his pinky stands proud, I slowly grab a hold of the bottle containing it, and turn back to her.

"Could you explain this to me?" I ask her, trying not to think about what I'm holding too much.

"It-, Pirk's finger? It... it is memory of dead. His death was accident, therefore, pinky. Death of a warrior, thumb, murder, index," she explains briefly.

I see.

I walk up to her, still holding the bottled ligament. Carefully, I grab her hand, and place the bottle inside it, closing the fingers around it.

"It should have been the index, then."

"...?"

I sit back down, my hands grasping each other, wringing together. My lips part, but no sound escapes. I close them again, my lips tightening into a thin line.

"...I didn't mean to. He attacked me first. It was an accident, yes, but I committed the killing blow. I... I came to apologize. I can give you nothing. I do not expect you to forgive me."

I glace up. She must have approached me before I realized it. Standing just above me, I see her face shift into an expression of grief so deep and insurmountable I'm stunned silent.

The next second, my face whips around, and a dull, slowly spreading pain blossoms on my cheek. I reach up to touch it, and glance to look at her. She slapped me.

"I will not forgive you. You say truth, but I do not give you my trust."

I stare at her, slack-jawed and pitiable.

"He was brother. Little brother Pirk. My only family. His life was worth ten times yours. Headstrong, yes. Stupid, too. A fool. But no fool deserves his death. His death was not deserved, but yours will be. I can tell, you are strong. But you will fall."

...

"Now, leave. Release Warrior Chivick. Be gone."

I rise to my feet, and give her a final, passing look. She may sem stone-faced, but beneath that cold exterior, I can tell, boiling hot magma flows in great currents.

I disconnect myself from the go-, Warrior Chivick, and bare my true form to her. Her expression is unreadable. Warrior Chivick's body clatters to the floor, and I hear him groan.

I say not a word more, instead leaving her behind. I fly over the village, out of the maw of the cave, the cave where I was birthed and the cave where I took my first life, and I fly off into the dawn.

It is the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen.