by Pirateaba
It has a dagger in its hand. I can see it all in my mind, like some kind of awful movie without sound. Durene doesn’t see the Goblin—she’s looking right in its direction, but she doesn’t see it.
Then the Goblin leaps. It jumps out of the place where its hiding and slashes at Durene. She recoils—the Goblin runs around her, racing for the forest. I see Durene turn, and then her hand. She grabs the Goblin and it slashes at her arm.
I sense the blade sinking into Durene’s skin; see her mouth open in my head, the wordless howl. But then Durene’s other hand comes up. She breaks the Goblin’s neck like she would a chicken’s, in a moment.
It’s all over. I can sense Prost and his family waking up in alarm, sense villagers and the adventurers racing towards Durene. By this point I’m running towards the village.
“Dead.”
That’s the first pronouncement one of the [Scouts] in the Celestial Trackers makes when we’re all in the village. The Goblin’s corpse has been dragged out into the center of the village and everyone is shivering around it, staring down at the small body in the snow.
I’m there too, the only person who’s dressed. Durene is hiding in Prost’s house. She’s naked, and by that I mean she’s got underwear on and—yeah, that’s about it. Modesty came after saving Prost’s life, and so she’s a hero everyone politely thanks—through a closed door.
Wiskeria is kneeling by the Goblin, intent on it. Beniar and Odveig are both patrolling, looking for more Goblins. They’re rattled by one getting through their perimeter and worry another one’s out there.
I know there’s not another Goblin in the village, but I don’t tell anyone how I know. To the villagers, Durene’s simply a hero who uncovered the Goblin by accident. It’s better that way.
“You’re sure it’s dead?”
Yesel asks the [Scout] anxiously as she clings to her husband. Prost has a pitchfork—hardly an elegant weapon, but the tines are sharp and he seems ready to use it. The [Scout] nods as he inspects the body.
“Neck’s broken. Not many Goblins survive that. You say that Miss Durene did it with one hand? Never heard of that before.”
He shakes his head and whistles quietly as the other villagers murmur. I’m not surprised; I know how strong Durene is.
“So what was the green skinned bastard doing here?”
Prost’s voice is rough as he steps forward and looks at the Goblin. I start.
Green skin? I’ve never seen colors, but I know how things are supposed to look. Grass is green. And Goblin skin is the same color? I can’t imagine it, or fit together the feel of grass with—with a Goblin.
“At a guess, it was coming here to slaughter you all in your sleep. The dagger isn’t poisoned, but it’s dressed in black, see? No need for poison when you can cut a throat easier.”
“Dead gods.”
Yesel buries her head in Prost’s shoulder. He clutches one of his daughters to his side.
“We’ve you to thank Durene, truly.”
“I’m glad you’re okay!”
Durene calls from inside. The [Scout] is checking the Goblin for anything else as I kneel down next to him.
“You said the Goblin has green skin? Ah…it’s Jeighya, isn’t it?”
“Yes, your majesty.”
I sense him looking sideways at me, and starting a bit as he realizes that I wouldn’t know what a Goblin looks like. He clears his throat.
“They’ve all green skin, some shade of it, sire. Red eyes, too. The color of monsters. Just as well this one won’t open its eyes again.”
It takes me a minute to remember how our eyes are supposed to look. White and colored in the center, right? Just another thing to distinguish Goblins, but in my head—
“I’ve never seen one. It’s not dangerous in any way now, right Jeighya?”
“No sire, but why—”
I kneel down and gently feel the Goblin with my hand. I pat gingerly at the skin, feel the arms, and then, slowly, the face. It’s a surreal feeling, touching something dead.
So this is a Goblin. I kneel down and touch the body gently. It feels…like any body would, I guess. Only smaller. Colder.
I feel like I’m touching a dead child. I shudder and pull my hand back. But for the sharp ears and pointed teeth, I’d think it was a young Human kid. I can’t see the green skin or the crimson eyes.
Standing, I look at the other villagers. They’re anxiously clustered around. I raise my voice, grateful I’m dressed. The dignity of an [Emperor] and all that. I’m not about to recreate the story of the emperor’s new clothes right now.
“We’re safe for now. Please thank Durene for finding and taking care of the Goblin. In the morning, though. Right now I think everyone should get to sleep; I doubt we’ll see more trouble tonight.”
The villagers are hardly reassured by my words, but they do take some comfort by a dead Goblin. They disperse slowly, murmuring anxiously. I turn to Jeighya.
“Keep a watch. They might try this again.”
—-
Unfortunately, that night I’m made into a liar. There are no Goblins that I sense entering the village, but they are active after Durene makes her way back to her cottage, modesty preserved by a borrowed towel.
Two hours after the Goblin is caught, someone fires a flaming arrow into the side of the barn. The villagers put the fire out before it spreads, but a second arrow hits a house and sets the roof ablaze. The village is filled with fear and no one gets a lot of sleep that night.
Day 68
Discontent. That’s the mood in the village the next day, after the villagers wake up from a sleepless night and see the smoke and burnt roof.
Many of them haven’t slept since the first fire. Neither have I. I slept through the first arrow until Gamel ran to wake me, and when I sensed the second fire starting I went down to the village and stayed there until morning.
The roof of one of the villager’s houses is toast, but it could be worse. That’s what I tell myself as I cough, smelling the burnt wood in the morning. But it’s still bad.
The Goblins are harassing us with attacks, striking and fleeing since their attempt to send an assassin in failed. The two arrows were fired from the forest. Both times the Celestial Trackers found the Goblins and exchanged shots with them in the dark. The second time they got one of the Goblins in the stomach, but they found only bloodstains and no body when they went to check.
No one’s happy about that. But the villagers are the least happy it seems. Especially the ones from Windrest.
They don’t know me. I’m an [Emperor] to them, a strange, majestic class and a blind man with few impressive qualities to recommend him blended into one being. I must confuse them terribly.
I’ve talked with them of course, and tried to reassure them along with the Riverfarm people, but I know I’m not too convincing at this moment. I don’t have the same bond with them as I do with the Riverfarm people. And it shows.
If I separate the interactions I have, the people fall into three broad groups. The first are like Helm and the older villagers like Jelov. They treat me like Prost and Gamel and the others, grateful for the protection I offer mainly.
The others are more distant. I’m a [Lord] to them, and since the aristocracy of this land can be touchy, they’re wary of me. Still, if they have their complaints they keep their feelings private.
However, the last group is vocal in their grievances. Quietly vocal since saying I’m a bad ruler is an invitation to a fight if someone like Gamel hears it. But nevertheless, the lid is boiling. And things get worse when the Goblins step up their attacks the next morning.
One of the [Hunters] comes back with an arrow in his thigh and cuts along his arm. The Windfrozen Riders gallop off as I hear what happened.
“Arrow. I was at my post when I saw a group of Goblins coming towards me. They showered my position—ran before help came.”
He’s not badly wounded, but the incident speaks to how defenseless we are. And the W
indfrozen Riders don’t find the Goblins either. Too slow, and the Goblins know how fast the horses can move. So we get back to work. We have healing potions, but how long until they run out? I can hear the villagers talking, sense their nervous postures, and sense the few who are vocally worried. That worry and fear turns to resentment.
But what can I do? Wiskeria’s still arguing against any attempts to go out and hunt the Goblins down, and I agree. But Beniar points out the obvious each time too—if we don’t do anything, we’ll just keep being attacked. I think Odveig wants me to decide and I—
I can’t risk it. It’s too dangerous. And while the adventurers understand that, the villagers only see them patrolling and not hunting the monsters. That leads to an incident at lunch.
I’m about to go check on the villagers training with Beniar. It’s the one thing I feel like I have control over, the thing that I can do to really prepare for the Goblins. I hear someone’s voice raised as I pass by one of the tables set up in the barn where food is distributed communally.
“Some [Emperor]. Any proper [Lord]’d keep his people safe, but this one just sits about while we suffer in fear. I thought we were supposed to be safe here!”
I’m clearly meant to hear that. I turn my head and sense a group of Windrest folk sitting at a table. The person who speaks…I think it’s a woman sitting in the middle of the party.
Her words don’t pass by unnoticed either. Heads turn. There aren’t many villagers in the barn, but the ones who are from Windrest stare at me and the ones from Riverfarm stand up.
Uh oh. I wave to my villagers and walk over to the woman before her words can start a brawl. She’s sitting there, defiant, surrounded by her friends. I stop before her table.
“Do you have an issue with me, Miss?”
I’m looking right at her. That throws her for a loop already, I can tell. But the woman rallies in a moment. She looks around the room and speaks directly to me.
“I do. You’re an [Emperor]. You promised us folk of Windrest we’d be safe if we joined your village. But those Goblins are attacking and you’ve not done a thing! You hide here while we’re shot at—in a few days we’ll be dead for you doing nothing!”
Her words cause a susurration around the barn. And for all the people of Riverfarm are speaking angrily, watching the woman with ill-intent, I can tell they’re agreeing a bit with what she said. I speak calmly, looking down at her.
“I am doing everything in my power to keep you all safe. I assumed two Silver-rank teams were adequate protection for Goblins. I was wrong, and for that I am sorry. However, you are still safer here than you would be on the road or in another village. It’s too dangerous to risk sending the adventures out to hunt the Goblins—they could walk into a trap or leave the village defenseless, and in both cases, we’d all die for my mistakes. I’m not willing to take that chance. You may disagree, but I am choosing the best options as I see fit.”
My words are the truth. That’s my weapon and how I sway the villagers. I can sense some nodding around the room. How could you argue with that logic? And I do have a plan for the Goblins. I just need more time. A little more time and…besides, how could you argue with that?
With emotion, that’s how. Perhaps she feels like she’s at a disadvantage now, but the woman stands up. I think her name’s Rehanna. I can sense her glare, even if I can’t see it.
“Big words for a man who can’t see! How’re we supposed to trust the word of a blind man? You can’t tell who you’re talking to, can you? We must all be the same to you.”
That makes me mad. Why do some people seem to think that blindness means I can’t tell people apart or sense where I am? People have voices, tones, and ways of speaking. Idiots who try and change their voices to make me think they’re someone else really get on my nerves. But I don’t snap. I cross my arms.
“I am blind. So what? I am an [Emperor], not a [Warrior]. Why shouldn’t I be as capable as any other [Emperor]—let alone a [Lord]—at my job?”
“You know why. Blind people are—they’re not the same!”
Now that—that’s an insult. I hear a woman behind me shout something towards Rehanna. It sounds like a threat. I cut her off with a hand. I’m angry now. My voice is loud in my ears.
“If I was a [Warrior], I suppose being blind might be a problem. If I were a [Painter], I would understand people having their reservations. But I have known blind painters, blind singers; men and women who have done as well as—if not better than any person with sight in their own way. A blind man climbed the world’s highest mountain. I have met him and shaken his hand.”
Silence. I have spoken the truth. But the woman denies it. To my face. She shakes her head and makes a sound like a scoff. Because she doesn’t want to believe what I say is true, she thinks I’m lying.
The nerve. I’m fighting not to open my eyes and use [Intimidating Glare]—or punch her at this point. Either one would be satisfying, but it’s not how I win this argument. People are watching. I’ll beat her with words.
“I don’t think you’re a proper [Emperor], not a real one. I won’t bow to you. What do you say to that? Will you throw me out for disobeying?”
“No, but I might cut off your head.”
Just words. Satisfying, savage words. The woman chokes. I fight down some guilty pleasure as the people around me gasp in horror. I smile slightly.
“I am an [Emperor]. Do you think a true [Emperor] would let a challenge to his rule go unanswered?”
I don’t think she did. I turn around the room, speaking to everyone listening. Calm. Project calm and confidence.
“I am an [Emperor]. If I walked around naked or covered in tree sap, I would still be an [Emperor]. Your belief matters not. I am an [Emperor]. And this is my demesne.”
I don’t think she knows that word either. The woman makes another sound but refuses to back down. She’s cornered by her own actions now. I can sense her approaching. She stops a few feet away from me, glaring.
“Please.”
I don’t speak to her, but to the Riverfarm men and women who approach, looking ready to grab her. They stop, reluctantly, and I stare up into the woman’s face. She’s glaring at me.
Hah. That’s funny. I smile and sense her stare faltering. She doesn’t get the joke.
Fierce, glaring…it doesn’t matter. I don’t bother to use [Intimidating Glare]; there’s no point. I can show these people that I can stand up for myself without a Skill.
She’s pretty tall. I look up and meet Rehanna’s eyes with my closed ones. I feel her hesitate. I almost smile, but keep my composure. Internally though, I have to smile a bit. Yeah, that’s right. Didn’t think about it too hard, did you? What’s the point of trying to scare me?
There’s no way to stare down a blind man.
“You are frightened.”
She starts and opens her mouth. I talk over her.
“You are frightened of the Goblins and afraid. I understand that. Everyone is frightened. However, we must work past our fear.”
Heads are nodding around the room. I look past Rehanna, hearing her splutter for words, and then back at her.
“That doesn’t excuse what you have said, but it tempers my decision. I won’t kick you out of my village because that would be cruel and you would die. And I won’t order you beheaded or beaten, and I’ll make sure no one harasses you. When this is over, you’re free to go. But until then, you will address me with respect.”
She hesitates. Now would be the time when she apologizes. Does she? Not a chance. That would imply she’d thought any of this true. Instead, she thrusts her chin at me.
“I won’t kneel to you. I came here to survive, but I won’t bow and scrape under your rule no matter what you offer.”
I hear someone growl. Actually growl. I just sigh. Why is it that some people will keep digging a hole when they’re already ten feet under?
“I won’t ask you to kneel, but I will have you obey. And if I were you, I wouldn’t s
ay another word.”
I turn. At some point you have to walk away from a stupid argument or end up being just as stupid. And I have more important work to do. I’m halfway out of the barn when I hear the woman’s voice.
“Or what?”
That’s it. I pause. The barn is silent, and I can sense the woman behind me. Trembling with bravado and fear. Trembling. I can see in my head her every flaw, her imperfections. Why does she pretend? I can see right through her.
I don’t turn. I open my mouth and say one word.
“Kneel.”
I hear a gasp and someone falls to her knees. I keep walking and don’t look back.
Do I feel good about that moment? Yes. I gave Rehanna every chance and she kept pushing. I was lenient in this. Far too lenient, perhaps. But everyone saw.
Next time, if she’s stupid enough for a next time, I’ll have to get nasty. I don’t want to imagine what I’ll do, I only know that it will be unpleasant for me—and quite unpleasant for her. I don’t fully care. Sometimes you have to trample over people, I guess. That’s what it means to rule. She’ll obey, or I’ll have to crush her—
Wait, crush her? Where did that thought come from?
Troubled, I make my way over to the training grounds—a patch of cleared dirt where I can hear people shouting and hitting each other or the wooden sticks that have been set up. And then I hear a far more pleasant female voice.
“Laken!”
It’s Durene. I hadn’t seen her this morning—as usual she’s been rushing about the village, helping people out. I regret not being able to spend more time with her. And she has a surprise for me.
“I’m a Level 9 [Paladin]! I got a Skill—guess what it is? Guess!”
She must have leveled up from the training and killing the Goblin. I smile at her.
“I’m no good at guessing.”
“Just guess anyways!”
“Okay…[Shield of Radiance]? [Holy Hands]? [Sword of Justice]?”