Eternal Forest: The Shadow of the Throne

by Faith Naff

  He could have sent soldiers out to find and kill them, but that wasn’t the balisekt way. Until the rule of Lord Killika, balisekts had always favored stealth and swiftness to outward displays of militant force. When a balisekt discovered it was being hunted, the response was to become the hunter. He would let them circle, let them get close to the city without resistance. He would let them think they had the advantage and that their prey was unaware. Confidence weakened caution, and the best time to strike at your enemy was when they were sure they’d already won.

  It was over an hour before Heeska saw the first signs of goblin activity in the trees. They were small, stumpy creatures, and while they were difficult to spot in dense foliage, they weren’t known for their silent movements. He could hear murmurs in their low, growly voices. The bushes and small shrubs around the perimeter shook as they moved, making their position easy to detect. The two hunters with him were eager to pounce. They rocked back and forth on their toes while their claws dug deep into the dirt. Heeska extended his right arm, signaling for those with him to hold their position.

  “Not yet,” he said in the balisekt tongue. They grumbled, but obeyed. The goblins made less noise as they approached the city and it made Heeska laugh a bit. They were actually trying to sneak in, as though every balisekt in the city hadn’t heard all of their ruckus already. He slowed his breaths as the first group of goblins neared his left side. He could see their lumpy, gray hide through the leaves. The stench of whatever rotten thing they’d feasted upon that day wafted past his nose. They were whispering to each other. He couldn’t understand their words, but he didn’t need to. They were bickering like children. Goblins were some of the least intelligent creatures in the forest. Were it not for their numbers and mad ferocity, there would be no reason to fear them.

  Heeska quietly rose to his feet as the goblins passed him by. The little creatures moved on, oblivious to the predator behind them preparing to strike. The goblins were carrying spears. They were crudely made weapons fashioned from sticks that weren’t properly straightened. He and the other balisekts kept their steps slow and quiet. The goblins seemed on high alert and he didn’t want them to discover they were being stalked.

  It was like trying to sneak up on squirrels.

  A hint of movement to his right made Heeska stop and lower back down into the surrounding shrubs. There was a similar rustling to his left and he saw another spear sticking out of the foliage. His eyes widened in surprise. The goblins in front of him weren’t acting alone. The groups were positioned around them and they all seemed to be moving as one. This was a coordinated strike, something goblins were never known to do. Goblin battle strategy never advanced beyond everyone remembering to attack the same target.

  These little soldiers were moving into position, and Heeska wasn’t sure how many groups were surrounding the settlement. He had plenty of patrols out in the Wilds and he was confident they were stalking their own goblins somewhere beyond his vision, but there could be far more than he anticipated. He stole a quick glance back at the two hunting with him. The bewildered expressions on their faces showed they also realized there was more to this attack than they first thought.

  Out in front of him, the goblins came to a stop. They were at the edge of the dense foliage. Another step and they’d be exposed. Heeska and his troupe stopped as well. This would have been the moment to attack, but the situation had proved more complex than he’d anticipated. Instead, he and the other balisekts watched silently. The goblins eyes were turned up. They barely had necks, so they had to turn their entire body to survey their surroundings. There was an impatience to their movements, as though they were fighting against their baser instincts—something goblins never did.

  “They’re waiting for a signal,” one of the hunters behind him said.

  “It’s a coordinated strike!” the other replied. “Goblins don’t use strategy in battle!”

  Heeska was proud of his hunters. They were as smart and alert as any balisekt should be. Still, it wasn’t their place to make a judgment when tactics changed. As the leader, that was his job. He needed to make a decision, and he had no idea how much time he had to do so. Whatever signal the goblins were looking for, it could come at any moment. When it did, the few balisekts still in the city would be overwhelmed before the hunters hiding in the foliage could react.

  His mind searched for a plan as his eyes watched the goblins. The spears in their arms shook nervously. Their breaths were fast, passing through widely parted lips. This was not the resolve of confident soldiers. These creatures were scared and unsure. Following orders, being coordinated and working for a bigger picture—this wasn’t their way. He didn’t know who was controlling them, who was able to get a group of goblins to see value in working for something greater than killing whatever was in front of them.

  Whatever convinced them to follow along, it hadn’t made them believe in the cause. They were on edge, ready to snap at the smallest thing. Their cooperation looked as fragile as an eggshell, and that’s where he found his plan.

  Heeska threw stealth and silence away. With a loud shriek he lunged forward. He knew the hunters behind him might find it strange, but the reason for his brashness would be clear soon enough. His claws were in the back of the nearest goblin before it could turn around. The creature’s final shriek could bring ears to bleed, putting even greater fear into the heart of its comrade. Its terror was short lived, as Heeska raked his claws across its throat with all the rage and furor of a crazed animal. It was a loud, bloody, terrifying spectacle—exactly what he needed.

  Throughout the Wilds, clusters of goblins burst from the foliage in a wild frenzy. They charged in various directions, some racing towards the city while others fled for their lives. As they scattered, the rest of the balisekts emerged from their hiding places. The leaves and branches rustled as goblins were snatched off their feet and dragged into the bushes. Sprays of blood filled the air, painting the tree trunks with bright crimson.

  Heeska smiled. Whatever plan the goblins had, it was gone. Their tactical cooperation hung by a tiny thread, and it took nothing to break it. There’d been less than forty of the filthy little monsters, and about a dozen of them now lay as bloody heaps upon the ground. One brave goblin charged at him. It waved its clunky spear overhead like a child would wield a toy weapon.

  Feeling no threat of real danger, Heeska stepped to the side. The goblin raced on around him, possibly fleeing back into the trees. He could have let it. He could have just allowed the creature to retreat back to the Savage Lands along with the rest of its kind, but anger and frustration wouldn’t let him. Heeska had grown tired of war and death, but these vermin were attempting to drive them from their home. They were working hard, harder than any goblin troupe he’d ever seen, to ruin everything they’d fought to achieve. Letting them run away didn’t send a serious enough message.

  Heeska turned and gave chase, catching up in no time. His tail whipped across the underbrush, striking the goblin on the back of its ankles. Its thin, bony legs were knocked off the ground, sending it crashing down onto its back. Its spear landing in a bush just out of reach. With his prey down, Heeska leapt into the air. His claws extended just before he landed on the goblin’s belly. There was a ferocious glee in his eyes as he watched blood erupt from the little pest’s mouth. It wanted to kill those he loved, to drive them from the homes they’d built together, and it made ripping it to pieces morbidly satisfying.

  “They’re retreating,” one of his hunters proclaimed. His hands and jaws were covered in blood.

  “I say let them,” the other said. “Let them go cower under the rocks they came from.”

  “No,” Heeska snapped. “These attacks are becoming more frequent and more organized. Things will only get worse if we stay on the defensive, and Tranquility demands a quick resolution to this skirmish.”

  “We just slaughtered nearly half of them without a single hunter falling,” the first insisted. “Their best effort was
a spectacular failure. This is an annoyance at best.”

  Heeska wanted to share in his comrade’s confidence. It all seemed true on the surface. He’d never seen an offensive strategy go so terribly for any invading force. Still, anyone or anything that could turn a band of goblins into something at least resembling an organized unit should not be underestimated. It made them unpredictable, and the thought of that scared him.

  “Follow them out,” Heeska ordered. “Chase them back to their master.”

  It was an odd pursuit for Heeska and his hunters. Their speed and ferocity had to strike a delicate balance. If they slowed down too much or gave their prey the impression that they were out of harm’s way, the goblins would either scatter or turn to hiding instead of fleeing. Of course, if they charged too fast, they would be upon them in the blink of an eye and lose the chance to find out who their mastermind was. They were like wild animals on a leash, snarling and flailing with savage bloodlust, but restrained by the demands of a greater purpose.

  Heeska charged through the underbrush of the Wilds with his fellow hunters. Every move they made was loud and flamboyant. Fear was keeping the goblins up ahead running for their lives, and they needed to be as terrifying as possible. The spectacle was so ridiculous at times that Heeska had to keep himself from laughing. At one point he actually had to stop because the nearest goblin tripped over a root and tumbled through the dirt like an acorn rolling down a hill. He laughed a bit as the tiny creature clumsily got back on its feet and charged on, under the impression that it was simply too fast for the balisekts behind it.

  With his prey so easy to keep track of, Heeska took a moment to get his bearings. The goblin’s direction had changed more than once during the chase and he needed to get a sense of where he was. They had fled east from the city, but the path had been arching towards the south little by little. When he finally had a clear sense of their location, he realized a horrifying truth—they were heading towards Tranquility.

  It wasn’t a direct path. In fact, their current course would have them running just along the edge of the acolyte village. But that was bad enough. Seryans Moonbeam and Galdaren had given them a stern warning of what would happen should their battle cross over onto holy ground again. He waited a few more moments before reacting, hoping they would revert back to the east, but they held course.

  “Take them down!” Heeska shouted in his native tongue.

  “What about the pursuit?” one of the hunters called out.

  “Change of plans,” Heeska answered. “Kill them all before they reach Tranquility!”

  No longer restrained, the balisekt hunters closed the gap in a flash. The goblins trailing behind had just long enough to take one more full breath before being ripped apart. They were easy kills, but taking down one allowed the rest to charge ahead. The balisekts hopped from goblin to goblin, but there were too many to take down and the border with Tranquility was quickly approaching. Heeska could smell smoke from the cooking stoves in the Acolyte Village. They would be there any moment.

  His claws found their way into another goblin’s back. He would normally pounce, putting all his weight against his prey to pin it to the ground, but he had to move to the next target. Satisfied he’d inflicted a mortal wound, Heeska slung the bloody body to the side and raced on to the next. The trees were thinning. They were on the edge of the village now. He could hear voices, young students going about their daily lives. He couldn’t stop the rest of the goblins from reaching their homes, but he would be damned if he let another of the Lady’s faithful die by their bony hands.

  When the first goblin reached the village, it was met with shouts and cries. When the rest came pouring out of the trees, there was a panic. Heeska and his hunters had left many goblins dead in the Wilds, but there were at least a dozen of the blighted creatures still breathing. They came crashing into the village like a rockslide, showing no regard for the obstacles in their way, be they living or not.

  Interrupted from their regular, afternoon routines, the students raced about the village like startled roaches. Their screams filled Heeska’s ears as he made his way out of the Wilds to the first row of huts. Things really weren’t going according to plan anymore, and with changing circumstances came changing goals. For he and his hunters, the mission went from pursuit to annihilate in a matter of moments, and had now shifted to rescue. The buildings could be fixed and order could be restored, but if even one student perished this day, the city Kesakah was doomed to die in its infancy.

  “Save the students!” Heeska yelled. He spoke now in the Lady’s tongue, which meant fewer of his hunters would understand his commands, but it was more important for the village residence to know what he said. They were already fleeing from goblins; the last thing they needed was to see raging balisekts shouting in what many would still consider a savage language.

  To his right, a goblin burst through the thatched wall of the nearest hut. The blighted creature had probably run right through both sides of the tiny structure without a second thought. Its large mouth was opened as wide as it could go, filling the spaces between its broken, blackened teeth with bits of straw. Heeska reached out with both hands. He snatched the goblin by its bony wrist and flung it across the dirt path. It crashed into the wall of the next hut, causing the roof to buckle and slide down off its supports.

  Heeska lowered his stance, keeping his eye on the dilapidated wall. He knew the impact wasn’t enough to keep the goblin down. Sure enough, it burst through the pile of straw a moment later, arms flailing over its head with fingers stretched apart. It was a wild, uncoordinated counterattack, exactly what goblins were known for. He was more than ready to overpower it in a flash, but someone else beat him to it. A bolt of lightning shot from behind a nearby hut. The bright arch struck the creature square in the chest, blacking its thick hide as it sailed back into the ruined structure. This time, it didn’t get back up.

  With his attacker now a smoldering carcass, Heeska turned to face the source of the shot. A centaurian woman emerged from the tiny alley. The paleness of her skin provided a sharp contrast to blackness of her hair and lower body. Heeska didn’t know a lot about Tranquility yet, but he knew enough to know he should be impressed. The markings on her robes identified the young woman as a student, not a full-fledged acolyte, yet her magical skills were well seasoned.

  “My thanks,” Heeska said with a nod.

  “What’s going on?!” she demanded. “Why are we being attacked?!”

  “That’s a conversation better suited for when the attack is over,” Heeska said. Another goblin charged up from behind him. He’d heard it approaching, but the centaur’s eyes suddenly widened, helped to confirm it. Heeska whipped his tail across the ground. He made contact with the charging goblin, knocking it off its feet. Using the momentum, his body spun. The claws on his right hand raked across the goblin’s midsection before it landed on the ground. A spray of blood filled the air as Heeska continued around. In the blink of an eye, he was facing the centaur again, though a splattering of red crimson now covered his scales.

  He found her preoccupied with two more goblins. By the nature of their attack, he figured them a bit more intelligent than the rest of the horde. One raced towards her head-on with a spear in its hand while the other crept up from behind in an obvious attempt to flank her. Normally, he would shout out a warning, but he was studying the Temple student as well. Even though centaur bodies were vastly different from most other creatures, their body language still conveyed a great deal of information. The student had an ear turned towards the flanking goblin as she engaged with the attacker in front of her. Her weight was shifted forward, ready to let her back legs lift off at a moment’s notice. Even before she struck, Heeska knew she had the situation well in hand. A ball of fire roared to life in her left hand. As the front goblin lunged at her, the centaur tossed the flaming orb through the air. With its mouth open wide, the goblin inadvertently swallowed it.

  The shriek the creature made was
horrific. Even with a goblin before her burning alive from the inside, the centaur didn’t forget the not-so-sneaky second attacker. As soon as its little, bulbous body was in range, she reared up her hind legs and slammed her hooves into its head. Heeska had seen some grotesque things in his life, but the sight of a goblin’s upper body exploding like a dropped melon was certainly something he’d never forget.

  One of its teeth bounced off his shoulder.

  “You’re certainly capable,” he said to her. She was poised and ready for the next attacker. Balls of fire spiraled wildly above her palms. But there were no more goblins to dispatch.

  “Despite what the males of my species may tell you, centaur women are not weak,” she said confidently. The flames extinguished and she relaxed her stance. Her back hooves were covered in blood and the smell of the carnage was finally reaching Heeska’s nose. Only goblins could manage to smell like rotting flesh while they were still alive.

  “Not what I meant,” Heeska responded, holding his hands up to his face with palms towards her. “You’re just clearly advanced beyond your level.”

  The centaur half smiled with one eyebrow raised. “You balisekts are quite observant, aren’t you?”

  “May I have your name?” Heeska asked.

  “Tellwyn,” she said. “And...yes, I’m ready to become an acolyte. I had a great teacher.”

  “Had? I hope they still live.”

  “She does. Her station in life rose quite rapidly. She leads Meadowgold now as the high priestess.”

  There were likely more pressing matters at hand than making small talk with Tellwyn, but with tensions between the balisekts and other tribes still quite high, engaging in civil conversation seemed as good a way as any to ease them. “Lady be praised,” he said.

  “And Lady be praised that no one was hurt here,” Tellwyn snapped. “Now will you tell me what’s going on?”