They were in another room by themselves again, and Kinari was finally allowed to see after they removed her blindfold.

“Wait here,” said the goblin that had led them to that room, after another trek through the sewers. “Other take you rest of way. Almost out!”

“Excuse me?” Asked Demian before the goblin left. “You were the one who took us to Nelos’ base, as well as the one who helped us escape, aren’t you?”

“Me, yes! Me best killer in clan! Me shoot poison, can hit even rat from far away, in dark place!” The goblin, small as he was, seemed to swell with pride when he said that. His face was still covered in dark rags however, hiding his expression, and he brandished his blowdart gun in the air for dramatic effect.

“What is your name?” Asked Demian.

“Why monster-thing want my name?” Asked back the goblin, suspicion in his voice.

“Because I want to remember the name of the one who saved my life,” he replied. “Also, my name is Demian. Isn’t it a lot easier to say than ‘monster-thing’? Less wordy.” His tone was joking, only the mildest feeling of reproach in his words.

The goblin paused to consider this before saying, “Pokrim.”

“Thank you for rescuing me, at great personal risk to you and your people, Pokrim,” said the prince, bowing his head slightly. “I will not forget this.”

“Yes, yes!” Pokrim seemed to brush the other’s words impatiently. “Now you stay here and wait. Not long! Other come take you rest of way!”

Pokrim gestured at the room. It was dry and clear of any rubble or garbage, and instead there was a small collection of boxes, vases and objects there. Although smaller, it reminded Kinari strongly of Nelos’ own hidden stash. A collection of contraband items, hidden deep underground. Instead of oil lamps, the room was even more dimly lit by the same jars that glowed green and lit up the queen’s court.

“You wait, no leave! I go now,” said Pokim, making his way back to the tunnel they had come from. He looked back and hesitated before saying, “goodbye, Demian-thing! And troll-thing!”

“Goodbye!” Replied Demian with a smile. He turned his head in the goblin’s direction and maintained the smile until he could not longer hear his steps as he slinked away from their waiting spot.

“Troll thing... ” Muttered Kinari as she guided her companion to a full burlap sack on the floor. Both of them sat on top of it, gingerly, as a makeshift cushion.

“These things start small,” said Demian. “You can’t expect them to go from hating to liking you in just a day.”

“I just don’t get why they hate me so much in the first place,” said Kinari, picking at a loose strand of the rough sack they were sitting on. It seemed to be full of some kind of seed or bean. “Because somehow my ancestors and their ancestors fought? So stupid.”

“They’re cornered and vulnerable,” commented Demian. “Not the best atmosphere to breed camaraderie and open-mindedness. And besides… Didn’t you say you fought goblins before?”

Kinari looked to see if anyone was watching, but her eyes were useless as always when it came to seeing in the dark. She sighed and lowered her voice. “I fought them a couple of times when Nelos hired me to do so. I was a mercenary, that’s all! I didn’t hate them or anything. Besides… It was only two times and no goblin fought me and lived. So they shouldn’t know that.”

“Maybe they did know it was you though?”

“You think so? Nah.” Kinari shook her head. “If they thought I had killed goblins before they would have killed me on the spot. No doubt about it, the vengeful little buggers would have slit my throat. Or Mr. Blowdart there would have poisoned me, if only poison worked on my body.”

“Well, regardless of the reason, I’m glad that didn’t happen.” Demian squeezed her hand gently for emphasis. Kinari looked away with an embarrassed expression and searched for a different topic to talk about.

“Huh, look at all this stuff,” she said. “They have way more contraband in here than I thought!”

“Probably they service different customers than the ones you’re used to,” said Demian, deep in thought. “Hmm, and now that the other major smuggler boss in this town was killed and his operations disrupted, they now control most of the smuggling going on in the city.”

“They…? Holy shit! You’re right!” Said Kinari, her eyes wide with this new realization. “The underlings of Boss Nelos are going to be at each other’s throats for the next few months until a new top dog comes out of the mess, if that even happens! And meanwhile the goblins can get full control of the sewers and still smuggle. Just business as usual. Damn!”

“I suppose the queen was looking for a chance to do exactly that. And then we came along and… She saw an opportunity.” Demian shrugged.

“Hold up! So all that talk about ‘the crimes of the forefathers’ and us having to pay for that… Was it all just a show?” Asked Kinari. “Were they just fucking playing us?”

“If I had to guess? The anger at nobles and their crimes was real. They could have killed us, yes. But the queen also saw it as a business opportunity. If she could get something out of me and you, without risking much herself, why not take that chance? She just had to sell it to her own people as an act of justice… Rather than sending a noble and a mercenary to do their dirty work.”

“Huh,” Kinari huffed, indignant. “Going on about Boss Nelos defiling their sacred underground lair and stuff… Turns out we were just killing a business rival.”

“Although we did more than that...” Demian’s eyes were open, staring at nothing and his face was equally blank and hard to read. “Were there supposed to be nobles in Nelos base?”

“Oh, Ellora’s tits! No, no way!” Kinari groaned as she remembered her reaction when they entered the warehouse and she saw all those soldiers, covering an embarrassed face with her hand. “I’ve no idea what the hell they were doing there. All I know is the one with fire hands was the commander of the soldiers looking for you. He’s the bastard that burned my face before, remember? The one I told you about.”

“So they were part of the search party.” Demian frowned. “That makes sense. There was a Meton and a Sofkos there, and they are the ones best suited to counter my Gift. Were they searching for me there?”

“So the one who shot that black smoke stuff was from the Meton family?”

“Yes. They can create smoke that blocks all sight, sound and smell to whoever is inside. But anyone from the Meton family can see and hear through the smoke easily. Fighting inside one of their clouds is extremely difficult, and it blocks my voice.”

“And Sofykos was the ghosty one then,” she rubbed her hand over her face with a groan as she remembered the fight. “I had never heard of them before.”

“They don’t tend to advertise their Gift very much. They’re very powerful, but with serious limitations that they don’t want people to know.”

“Like the fact that you can fight them with your fists?”

“Yes, but also the fact that their real bodies must be within a 5 minutes’ run from their projection. Roughly. And while their projection is up, their real body is unconscious, so there’s a real risk there. Obviously all I said is something they try to keep as much of a secret as possible.”

“That was a real mess back there,” said Kinari with a sigh. “But we did it! We kicked their asses! Blue blood asses, too!” She laughed a little while shaking her head. “Still can’t believe that happened! And we got away too!”

“Let’s hope we never have to go through something like that again,” he muttered, his face downcast.

“Nobody likes getting into a dangerous fight,” said Kinari. “Sometimes, you have no choice. But… Yeah, I get your point. If we can avoid this kind of mess in the future, we will.”

Demian nodded silently.

“You the ones wanting to leave the city?” Said a voice behind them, making the two jump and Kinari turned around quickly. She saw another goblin in grimy rags sitting on a crate behind them. There were scars criss-crossing the goblin’s face, leaving valleys of exposed skin amidst the goblin’s fur. One of the goblin’s ears was missing half its tip. It looked at them cautiously, and Kinari was somehow reminded of an old feral cat, ready to scamper away at the first sign of any movement.

“Yes, we were instructed to wait here and someone would guide us the rest of the way and out of the city,” said Demian. “Is that you then?”

The goblin looked at each one of them in silence. “Yeah, follow me,” said the goblin eventually, jumping off the crate they were sitting on and padding down the tunnel. Kinari helped Demian up and both hurried to follow the figure slowly vanishing into the darkness of the tunnel.

“Heard one of you was a noble. Is that right?” Asked the goblin as they walked. Kinari realized the voice was higher pitched than other goblins she had seen, and took a second look at the goblin to confirm her suspicions: their guide was a female goblin.

“Ah… Yes, that would be me,” said Demian. “Not that I’m in any place to act like a noble, so maybe it’s best to ignore that fact about me, for now?”

The goblin looked at him, but did not say anything else as they kept walking down another dark tunnel. She stopped and fumbled around what looked like another brick wall before turning a secret lever that opened part of the wall, leading to another tunnel.

“Huh, you guys are really paranoid,” said Kinari as they walked through the secret door and the goblin closed it behind them.

“Old escape tunnel,” she replied. “Was built in case goblins needed to escape an attack on the old city, or so I was told.”

“You speak the common language quite well. I can’t hear any accent,” said Demian, attempting to make small talk. “Were you raised among humans, by any chance?”

“I was born in a mining camp where they put me to work since I was five. If you speak goblin there, you get punished,” said the goblin, not turning to look back at him as she walked.

“Oh...”

Kinari looked again at the scars on the goblin’s head and back. Then she pushed it out of her mind and kept walking. She recognized the reaction within herself, the shutting down of any empathy, of even considering the pain the goblin had gone through. Because if she did stop and think about it, the pain would be too much. And it would hit too close to home, making Kinari remember things from her past she’d rather forget.

The three walked the rest of the way in silence.

The former major, and now recently-promoted commander, rubbed his greying temples in a vain attempt to fight an oncoming headache and glanced at Luca, who had just finished his report and was now looking at him anxiously.

“So you and your soldiers got defeated… By goblins?”

“Well, in the confusion I could only muster a small group of soldiers,” clarified Luca, while trying to keep his voice calm. “Because, as I said before, we could not hear due to our ear protection, which made issuing orders difficult… We were not ready for an attack from the inside...”

“But the goblins still got the better of you?”

“The goblins had the assistance of the royal prince, My Lord! Which, as I said, commanded some of my own troops to find and kill my true body! And he was also helped by this… Spy. A good fighter, but not great by any means, but she was still incredibly resilient. I struck her multiple times with my sword, but she kept fighting. At the very least, she will be severely wounded after our fight - ”

“Apparently, from what some of the smugglers have told our troops, that spy can heal extremely fast.” said the new commander, interrupting the other noble’s excuse while looking at a report on his desk. “Something about her blood. She is a half-troll, and not a half-orc as initially thought, apparently?”

“A half-troll?” Luca frowned. “I never heard of such a creature.”

“Me neither. But I suspect she will not carry the wounds you gave her into the next battle.”

The two were quiet for a moment, before the commander sighed.

“What a complete mess,” Luca muttered. The new commander, whose name was Martin, nodded in agreement.

“Two noble knights, including the commander of a whole battalion. Killed. The local smuggling ring is in disarray, so negotiating with them is now moot… And what do we have to show for it?” He threw the report back on his desk with open disgust.

“There is too much we don’t know!” Groaned Luca, slumping into a chair. “How did the royal prince find a group of goblin fighters at all?”

“Apparently there’s a cell of goblin remnants hiding in the local sewers,” said Martin with a sigh. “Something which I did not know until I was informed about five minutes ago. It is possible they are working with the spy, but considering they hate all humans, especially nobles, it is far more likely that the royal heir is controlling them with his Gift. That would give him a small, but effective guerilla force that was unprepared to resist his Royal Voice. He might even be hiding in the sewers.”

“And he’s just a blind boy,” Luca tapped on the chair, his expression dark. “What a fucking nightmare.”

“Don’t underestimate the Royal Voice,” said Martin. “There’s a reason the Viridians were winning the war before their king got killed, despite the fact we had the biggest army.”

“How did the old king get killed anyway?” Asked Luca. “Heard he got shot by a musket?”

“Yes. Some say it was a stray shot in the middle of battle. Others say he was assassinated. The Royal Family, frightening as they may be, still eat, sleep, bleed and die as much as any one of us. We just need one good shot...”

“Would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to capture the princeling alive,” grumbled Luca.

“Hmm,” Martin nodded in agreement. “But the council would rather risk our lives than lose this chance to legitimize their claim. Think about it. This could mean the end of the war.”

“You think they’d do that?” Asked the other soldier. “And what… Would they put the boy on the throne? Do away with the council?”

Martin scoffed at that question. “The council would rather eat their own, collective livers than go back to being vassals to another Viryan king. But I’m sure they would use the boy as… Oh, I don’t know, a figurehead? Or as a bargaining chip, perhaps. You’ll have to ask the council that question.”

“You’re going to have to report to them, now you’re a commander, right?”

Martin shuddered. “I hope someone relieves me before it comes to that. A promotion does me no good if it comes right before my exile or execution. Which will happen if I let the boy slip from our fingers!” He tightened his hands into fists and he said these words, angry at the unfairness of it all.

“So what should we do?”

The new commander glanced at the reports on his desk and sighed. “I don’t know… Do we ask for reinforcements? Plant sentries on sewer entrances? We don’t even know what the royal prince is planning next!”

Kinari blinked at the sunlight that greeted them outside. It was almost sunset, and the sky was already darkening at the horizon opposite to where the sun sank, but compared to the darkness of the tunnels the daylight was a bright flare to her eyes.

“This sound,” said Demian, perking up and trying to listen. “Is that the river or are we still in the sewers?”

“Yeah, you’re close to the west Diplos river,” said the female goblin. She pointed to a muddy path that followed the river upstream. “If you two go that way you can find the west road that leads into the city. You can also go downriver if you want to hit the shore. There’s a fishing village right by the river mouth, but there’s no road going there so expect some rough walking.”

“Thank you,” said Demian, with another of his small bows. “You have been an excellent guide.”

“Hm, you’re welcome” said the goblin. “Goodbye.” And she slinked back into the sewer tunnels before they had a chance to reply.

“Well, thank Ellora and her tits! We’re finally out the bloody city gates!” Kinari stretched her arms, relishing in the freedom after hours spent in cramped corridors. “Bad news? There’s going to be a lot of walking from here on out. Good news? It’s much harder for them to search for us outside. The countryside is too large to be searched so thoroughly, and not all lords pay attention to what the council wants. If we stick to side roads and smaller villages on our way there, we should be good. Things are looking up now!”

“That’s nice,” said Demian with a neutral tone. He was still facing the sewers, his eyes blank as always.

“I know a village close to here where we can sleep the night. Nothing comfortable, mind you, but there’s worse places to sleep than in a barn.” She noticed he was still deep in thought, and asked, “what’s up? Something on your mind?”

Demian considered the question, before turning to her with a small, embarrassed smile. “Before we rest for the night, there is one thing I would like to do… It might be a little risky, but… Can you help me?”

Kinari glanced at him and his timid smile, like a kid asking for a larger birthday present than usual, and sighed. “What is it you wanna do?” She asked.

Martin was now slumped on his chair and reading another report while drinking some wine when there was a knock to his door. After only a brief interval, the person at the door knocked again.

“What is it?” Martin asked, getting up from his seat and steadying himself. The wine had been good and he was on his third cup now, one of the perks of being a commander. “This better be important! It’s late as hell and I am very busy!”

“Urgent report, Your Lordship!” Said the voice from the other side of the door. And the voice, even muffled as it was, sounded nervous to Martin’s ears. That was not a good sign. With a groan, Martin staggered his way to the door and opened it.

“Come in,” he commanded. “And report immediately. What is going on?”

“Your Lordship!” The soldier bowed, while trying to find the best way to convey what had happened. “A messenger from outside the city gates was enthralled. We’re pretty sure it’s the Royal Voice. He won’t move or do anything else except what he was commanded to do. Some of the men get spooked just looking at him. He said he will only be able to rest once he’s sure you received the letter he is carrying. It’s a message!.”

“What? He’s… Enthralled? By the prince? And coming from outside the city?” Martin looked at the soldier while trying to process everything he had said. His legs swayed, so he stumbled back to the chair and sat down. Then he looked his soldier in the eye and asked “So a man was enthralled and made to bring a message here?”

“Yes, Your Lordship,” said the soldier.

“Enthralled? By the Royal Voice? Are you absolutely sure?”

“As sure as I can be, Your Lordship.”

“What’s the message?”

“I copied the letter, just in case it’s a ploy. I, ahh, have it here. Ahem.”The soldier swallowed, before pulling a piece of paper and reading the words exactly as he wrote them.

“I am Demian Ex Vyrion, prince of the royal bloodline of Viridia and third in line for the throne.

Through trickery and deceit, you have stranded me in rebellious territory, which is mine by bloodright. You have killed my Royal Guard. But if you expect me to go quietly and surrender now then you are wrong. I have killed one of your leaders, as a warning of things to come. You brought me here thinking I would make easy prey.

But a Viryon prince is no prey. I am a predator, and this is my hunting ground. And I will yet make the rebel nobles understand what it means to fear the royal blood. If they bend the knee, I will be merciful. But if they persist in their rebellion, I will show them no mercy.”

After he finished reading the message, there was a moment of stupefied silence, before the new commander broke it.

“Bloody hells...”

“You orders, commander?”

Martin fumbled for the wine cup and drained it, before wiping his mouth and looking back at the soldier. He felt the fire burning down his throat, yet he still felt chills. This promotion would be the death of him.

“I want the guards around every knight and commander doubled, and they must all wear ear protections. The nobles nearby must be informed as well. Send messages to them. And... ”

He looked around nervously at the messenger, half expecting him to become an enthralled assassin and stab him. Bloody hells, it wasn’t possible, was it? They had precautions. And yet…

“Leave my room now. I will arrange for my personal bodyguards myself. And send a message to the council,” said Martin, his head sagging in defeat. “Inform them of the Royal Prince’s message. Tell them I request immediate assistance.”

“But why make that guy deliver that message to the army commander?” Asked Kinari, as the two of them lay on a pile of hay inside a barn, which was somewhat smelly with animal sweat and manure, but was indeed more comfortable than their last few nights. “You’re not planning on actually fighting them, are you?”

“No, not really,” said Demian, his white eyes turned toward the roof. His voice was soft. “But it might be a good diversion, right? They’re now expecting us to go on the offensive, so we take this chance to slip away. I think that’s a decent plan.”

“Misdirection? Can’t fault the logic too much...” Said Kinari, frowning. “But the timing is pretty bad! Couldn’t you have waited a couple of days, until we made more distance from Meridia? Now they’re going to be on the lookout for us! Not as bad as in the city, sure, but you’ve painted a big-ass target on us. Now we’re going to have to stick to the ass-end backroads for a good part of our voyage. This is going to suck!”

“I’m sorry...” his voice sounded even quieter, almost defeated. Kinari sighed.

“Was there any other reason? Something that made you do this now?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“I saw the way you were brooding, since we left the sewers.” Kinari snorted in amusement. “Like a teenager after getting rejected. I got eyes, ya know?”

“There was another reason,” admitted Demian. He nervously bit his lip.

“So?”

“Well… The goblins were seen helping us escape, right? So… The soldiers might think they’re cooperating with us, or that I’m hiding with them in the sewers...”

“...And they might go after the goblins,” finished Kinari. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Hopefully that message reveals that I’m already out of the city. It draws the searching soldiers away and keeps them busy enough that the goblins don’t get harassed or killed on my account. It’s…” Demian fumbled for words. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Why are you so worried about them?” Asked Kinari. “After they screwed with us like that? And making us do their dirty work? What the fuck do we owe them?”

Demian lay down in silence for a moment, listening to the animals resting next to them in that darkness. It took a moment for him to answer.

“My family… The Royal Family of Viryon… We’ve done some bad things. The goblins might have made a theater out of it, but it doesn’t change the fact they were right. Enslaving the goblins. Tyrannizing the peasantry… My family does have blood on their hands.”

Demian sounded sad and hesitant, swallowing nervously. Kinari made an impatient noise.

“Look, I’m not going to argue that some nobles aren’t complete assholes,” she said. “But their crimes aren’t yours! If you didn’t do it, why should you get the blame? That’s fucking stupid!”

“Even if that’s the case, I still don’t want to be like my family,” said Demian. “I don’t want to follow in their footsteps, hurting people while everyone is afraid of us, and letting others suffer because we are superior. I… I don’t want that. I want to live in a kinder world.”

He sounded embarrassed as he spoke those last words and he felt his cheeks reddening. He almost apologized on the spot for saying something so childish, but bit back his words while waiting for Kinari’s response.

“People are going to keep being shitty to each other no matter what you do,” said Kinari, her voice quieter, but not unkind. “You’re not going to be able to change that, royal or not.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” said Demian with a sad chuckle. “It was a silly thing to say, wasn’t it?”

“But… I don’t hate it when people say stuff like that, you know?” Said Kinari. “Even if it’s a dream, it’s a nice dream. Better than not giving a shit, right?”

“I suppose. Um, thank you.”

They were silent for another moment, before Kinari turned on her side.

“Better get some rest now,” she said. “We leave early tomorrow, and there’s going to be a lot of walking. As well as watching out for patrols, I guess.”

“Good night, Kinari.”

“Night Demian. Uhh… I mean, erm, lordship?”

A soft chuckle, muffled by the hay. “Demian’s fine.”

“I hear you say that the crimes of the forefathers, carried by blood through generations, must be atoned for by their descendants. But if that is the case, aren’t we all guilty? Do we all not have some sin to atone, from some distant relation?Are not all the sins of the world, eventually, in our hands?

The goblins saw wisdom in Demian’s words, and they accepted him as one of their own. And the two races, divided by their past, were united that day against a common enemy.”

-Excerpt from “A Tale of Two Embers”

By Simon IV of Embergaard