TGC The Final Chapter

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 13:46:53 GMT

We sat silently in the balloon, floating gently this way and that - slaves to the mercies of the wind. Mother sat silently with tears rolling down her cheeks. I sat silently – desperate to comfort my mother but not having the faintest idea of how to do so. My father sat silently – unrepentant, and the balloon floated this way and that.

I looked at my mother and thought of all that she had done. She had raised me as a child. She had loved me as a child. She had protected me, when our home was gone. She had guided me through the mines, when our protectors were gone. She had found a way out of Hafen, when all hope seemed gone. She had loved me and she had protected me.

We sat silently in the balloon, floating gently this way and that - slaves to the mercies of the wind. Mother sat silently. I sat silently. My father sat silently. And the balloon floated this way and that.

I looked at my father and thought of what he had done. He had abandoned us. For years, he had lived a life of luxury and done nothing to see how we were and when we had arrived he had sacrificed our two closest friends – our guardians who had guided us up the Schwer to Nirvaasan. He had sacrificed the two souls – without whom we would never have reached him.

I looked at him and I wondered to myself, who was this villain who wore my father’s face.

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TGC 26 In which Manquer makes another sacrifice

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 13:45:25 GMT

“When the elves came, Father Leiter, Brother Dezent, and Sister Gutig came to protect us. We left the house at night and-” but that was as far as I got in telling the story to my father as he started to shake. I was scared to look at him. His face was contorted and he was shaking uncontrollably. His shoulders were heaving up and down. “What is it?” I asked, concerned for him in spite of his behaviour since our arrival. Tears were rolling down his red face as he sobbed – but no he wasn’t sobbing. He was laughing!

“Lei- ter!” He managed to get the name out through the tears and the laughs. “Leiter came to protect you – that coward.” He roared again with laughter. “Leiter thought he could protect you from the elves!” He thumped the table with his fist. “I notice he’s not here now. How long did he last before he fled to save himself? Did he make it through the night?”

“No.” My mother answered him quietly from the curtain.

“Scheren,” My father said her name – cruelty dripping from his voice. “Nice of you to rejoin the conversation. You were always quite the Leiter follower weren’t you. You always wished I was a little more like him didn’t you. That must have hurt you mustn’t it. He left you before the night was out – that’s impressive even by Leiter’s cowardly standards.”

“He sacrificed himself for us.” My mother spoke quietly, “The last thing he said was that we should find you. He’s the bravest goblin I’ve ever known.”

The room went silent then for a moment that seemed to stretch out into an eternity. Eventually, my father lifted himself from his chair, drained his glass and flung it with all his might at the opposite wall. “Leiter,” he roared at my mother, “is nothing but a coward who was never prepared to make the sacrifices that needed to be made to protect our kind.”

“He’s the bravest goblin I’ve ever known.” My mother repeated – quietly but determinedly.

“He. Is. A. Coward” My father roared back at her.

It was at that moment that I felt the light building up within me. A tingling sensation burst from deep within me and ran all across my skin. There was nothing I could do to stop the light from coming. It didn’t matter that I wanted my mother to see me conjure light in a joyful moment. The light was coming and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. It started with my body glowing and I felt the room fall silent and all their eyes lock onto me. But the light didn’t stop there, it lit up the whole room. I saw my father’s face painted white by my light. My mother shone ethereal in the light I provided. The light forced itself upon Handeln and Manquer and the light continued to grow. It threw the door and the curtains open. The curtain fluttered in the light. The light grew brighter and brighter and brighter until suddenly I had no more light left within me to conjure and collapsed back in my chair.

The room fell back into silence but only for an instant. My father now looked panicked.

“There’s no way they won’t have noticed that. The elves will be coming. We need to be ready.”

“What are you talki-” My mother was asking him.

“Scheren,” My father spoke again, calmly but firmly – there was no cruelty in his voice this time. “I am sorry. I am sorry for – for everything I have done.” He paused, “I am sorry for everything I will do but right now I need you to listen to me. The elves will be coming and when they see that our child can summon the light, they will – they will - I can’t say it. You all need to listen to me. Dwarf, Manquer get behind me. Protect Scheren. Protect our child. There is a balloon in the middle of the yard. It is our only chance of getting out of here alive.”

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TGC 25 In which we meet Betrüger

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 13:42:44 GMT

“Send for!” The voice was disbelieving. It came from behind me. It was my mother’s voice. “You did not send for our child!” She emerged from behind the curtain. “You’ve been away all these years!” Her voice had cracked a little and had a faint madness to it now. “Away from us! Away from your child! Living here as some elven prince! All this time you send for things! And you never once ‘sent for us’! Your family! How dare you Lehre!”

My father did not seemed in the slightest troubled by my mother’s accusation. Nor did he seem remotely concerned by Handeln and Manquer following my mother out from behind the curtain.

“They call me Betrüger now Scheren.” he said coldly.

“Betrüger!” My mother spat the name at him in disgust. “Was your goblin name not good enough for the elves? You’re pathetic! You’re a traitor! You’re – You’re a coward!” Her voice rose with every insult.

“Scheren,” He replied, as evenly as ever, “I know I’m none of those things but right now that is immaterial. You need to calm down.”

“Calm dow-” My mother began to scream but my father cut her off before she had the chance. In a flash, he’d crossed the room impossibly quickly to hold his hand over her mouth.

“Yes, you need to calm down and keep your voice down or the elves will here you. You may think I am their ‘prince’ but I assure you that I would be powerless to stop them from harming you, from harming the child, should they find you all here.” He paused before adding. “Why have you come here?” He frowned down at me emotionlessly. “And why did you bring our child?”

When he took his hand away from my mother’s mouth, she turned away from him and walked back to the entrance to the tunnel.

“They came to free you.” It was Manquer who spoke. Her hood for once was pulled down and her eyes blazed with hatred as she stared at my father.

“Hello Manquer,” my father replied emotionlessly. “It’s been - quite - a while.”

“Not long enough.” Manquer replied – her voice strangely calm and yet simultaneously boiling with rage.

My father poured a golden liquid from a decanter into a small tumbler on the table in the middle of the room. A table that I noticed now was covered in grains of a fine black powder. Looking around, I saw black powder seemed to cover every surface. Whatever my father had been doing here, this black powder must surely be at the heart of it.

“Would anyone care for a drink?” My father frowned as Handeln shrugged and took a glass from him. “And who are you?”

“Handeln.” Handeln replied in his usual gruff voice.

“Have you kept my child safe?”

Handeln shrugged before nodding at Manquer, “Haven’t done as much as she has.”

“Thank you,” my father nodded at Handeln ignoring Manquer entirely. “But, I still don’t know why you have come. Scheren, please stop this nonsense. You must talk to me at some point. Why are you here? Why have you come? Why didn’t you stay in Ruraux?”

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TGC 24 In which we reach Nirvaasan

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 13:39:34 GMT

In the tunnel, an eerie chill seeped into my bones with every step and though it could not have been possible, it seemed as though the pitch black darkness grew darker still. I shivered.

“This isn’t right,” Handeln was moaning, “I’ve been down many a tunnel - but never one like this.”

I felt a dull ache - starting in my toes and travelling up my legs - spreading into my knees. The ache grew quickly until it had spread through my entire body so that my every step was a labour.

“Be quiet Dwarf.” Manquer hissed.

A fire had been lit inside me – quite in spite of the chill that surrounded us in the tunnel. My feet burnt with every step. My throat burnt - desperate for liquid. The cold air burnt my throat with every breath I took. Invisible flames burnt through the darkness to tear at my flesh with every step I took.

“Listen Manquer,” Handeln snapped back, “I’ve had it -”

A huge weight was weighing down on me. Pushing me down into the floor of the tunnel. Grinding me into the floor. I couldn’t take another step. Instead, I shuffled forward not even lifting my feet. I tripped over a small rock on the floor of the tunnel and crashed into the back of Handeln’s legs, sending him tumbling into Manquer.

“I warned you,” Manquer whispered, drawing her knife from her belt in a flash and holding it out – point very definitely aimed at Handeln.

“Stop it both of you,” my mother cried. “For goodness sake, can’t you feel it. It’s the tunnel. It’s Nirvaasan. The elf warned us to expect this.” She pulled me up and held me close. “We have come this far,” my mother carried on. “We can’t let this place stop us now; we are stronger than a little dark magic.”

Irritably, Manquer grunted, stashed her knife back in her belt and untangled herself from Handeln. Breathing heavily, Handeln stared murderously at Manquer - but said nothing. Mother still held me and as she did the heat of the tunnel cooled a little. She kept hold of me and the load pushing down on me lessened. She placed her lips on my forehead and the aches subsided.

“You’re safe darling,” she whispered in my ear and I knew that for as long as she was next to me – I was.

I took a step after Handeln. It was easier than it had been before. I took another step and then another. It seemed to me that there was actually some light coming from far away. A small pinprick of light in the distance. Further we walked, and the pinprick turned into a fingernail. Still further we went until suddenly I could clearly make it out. There was a sheet of fabric covering this end’s entrance to the tunnel.

We had made it; We had reached Nirvaasan. I smiled to myself and felt delirious laughter begin to consume me. I opened my mouth to laugh only to find my mother had clamped her hand over my mouth. I turned to look at her and saw her hold a finger to her lips then point to her ears. Following her lead, I listened closely.

“They’re taking care of the traitor Hinweisgeber,” one voice was saying.

“What had she done?” another voice replied.

“I have not heard.”

“It must have been something severe for the council to have got involved.”

The other elf grunted its agreement.

“Do you think it has anything to do with Betrüger.”

“Most things do.”

From behind the fabric, the creak of a door opening could be heard followed by it clicking shut.

“Ahh Betrüger,” one of the elves greeted the figure – their voice suddenly nervous. “This will please you. The council have sent for Hinweisgeber.”

“They’ve taken Hinweisgeber, well that does indeed please me,” Betrüger spoke in a strange cold emotionless voice. Each word was said the same as another. “Do you know when she was taken.”

“They took her an hour or so ago.”

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TGC 23 In which I overhear a conversation

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 13:37:13 GMT

I woke early the next morning, long before the sun had risen. I was cold. I was cold, confused and lonely. And Hinweisgeber’s words from the night before still chased themselves around my head, “He’s changed. He’s different.” How had my father changed? How was he different? Would he look the same? Would he sound the same? Suddenly, another question – a particularly unwelcome question - lodged itself in my mind. Would he remember me?

It was too much for me; I couldn’t bear the prospect that I may see my father again only to have him not recognise me. With a sob, I slipped out of bed and shuffled bleary-eyed to the door. Pushing it open I came out onto the landing. Barely awake, I tried to remember which room was which. Handeln was in the room next to mine and next to him was Manquer, which left mother in the room opposite mine. I approached the door, reached for the handle and paused. I could hear hushed voices from behind the door. Was Hinweisgeber inside talking to my mother? Preparing her for what we would find in Nirvaasan. I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t want to eavesdrop but I wanted to speak to my mother; I was lonely. Unsure what to do, I pressed my ear to the door to hear whether it was acceptable for me to intrude.

“I’m sorry, I never knew. They never told me.” It was my mother’s voice. Who was she apologising to? Who never told her what? I fought back the urge to throw the door open.

“I was there waiting.” It was Manquer. “I waited for two years. Two years I waited for you. Do you have any idea what it was like?” I heard a muffled sob through the door. “I – I -. You were the only one.”

“I’m sorry,” my mother’s voice again – low and strained, “If I’d known, I’d have been there. The world couldn’t have stopped me.”

“He could though,” Manquer replied bitterly. “He did. He stopped you from getting that message.”

“I’m sorry,” my mother was sobbing now, “If I’d known, I would have been there. I – I – felt the same way. I always felt the same way. I – I – I feel that way still.”

“Hello little goblin,” Handeln’s gruff voice came from behind me; loudly as though hoping to be heard from behind the door. “Are you alright there?”

“I -” I turned to him, and unable to look him in the eye I started to cry.

“C-mere little goblin,” Handeln pulled me into a warm embrace. “We’ve nearly made it. We’ve nearly got back to your old father. Only a couple of hours now and you’ll have your father back.”

This didn’t help and I sobbed all the more until the door opened and my mother stood over us.

“Darling,” she said in a quavering voice. “Whatever’s the matter?” When she knelt down to pull me close to her, I couldn’t help but notice: how wet her cheeks were; how red her eyes were and I couldn’t help but feel that my distress was not the only cause.

A short while later, once I’d managed to stop crying we ascended - as a four - to the room we had eaten in the night before to see Hinweisgeber already waiting for us.

“My dear guests,” Hinweisgeber began as we entered the room. “You must accept my apologies. I fear my tale caused much upset last night. Please take this.” Hinweisgeber passed us each a loaf of bread. “Eat this and know that it will give you strength. Now, we don’t have much time so listen to me closely. The elves will be coming here shortly. No, don’t interrupt me. I will hold them for as long as I am able. Descend the staircase. All the way until you are beneath the roots of my home. There you will find a door. Behind the door is a tunnel. The way will be dark but you will pass through.” As these last words were spoken, Hinweisgeber eyes seemed to linger awkwardly upon me.

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TGC 22 In which an elf tells a story

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 11:19:26 GMT

We ate a feast that night. Entering the room, we were greeted by a plate full of warm strangely-shaped pastries filled with crushed mushrooms - richer than anything I’d ever eaten before. Next, the elf served us a parsnip and potato soup that warmed my toes, my fingers and my soul. And last but not least, we ate an apple pie so delicious that I lost count of how many portions Handeln ate.

As he finished one of his many helpings, my mother addressed the elf. “Thank you, most sincerely for your incredible kindness, but may I ask you a question.”

The elf nodded evenly.

“Why are you doing this?”

“May I suggest,” the elf spoke slowly, “that it may be easier for me to tell you a story and then I give you my word. I will answer any questions you may have – that are mine to answer.”

It was my mother’s turn to slowly nod.

“Long ago, before I was – separate. I was sent by the council of the high elves. There was concern - regarding the rumours coming out of Ruraux. Rumours of dark sciences that could split the sky and split the earth. Naturally, like many elves, I couldn’t believe that Goblins could wield a power like that and dismissed it as little more than rumour - but as the dutiful being that I was, I travelled there.” The elf fixed its eyes on me. “I saw you there, crawling over your father in a park. I was amazed. I’d never seen somewhere so beautiful. It’s something we elves could never have built. I don’t know whether you’ve seen an elven city. White marble – all white marble. All the same. All uniform. There’s no grit in an elven city, no character. So imagine how impressed I was by your Ruraux. Built on stones thousands and thousands of stones. And cobbled roads,” The elf smiled for a moment, pausing before continuing, “what a dream they were. The idea that a road doesn’t have to be perfectly level. How magical that was. I must confess that the thought crossed my mind many times to simply live there in Ruraux amongst the goblins – but I was still aware that I was there for a reason.

“I found Lehre easily enough and followed him. I followed him to the park with both of you. I followed him to the inn. I followed him back from the inn and watched him throw you into the night air.” The elf smiled again, “but I could never see what he was doing. In the end, I waited until he was in the inn one night. I enchanted all of the clientele and bought him drink after drink. He was proud in the end of what he’d built. ‘It’s going to change the world.’ He said. ‘Us goblins will be free to choose our own paths.’

“’Fantastic,’ I said to him somewhat sincerely. Don’t forget that at this point I was quite the admirer of Ruraux. ‘How will you do it?’ I asked him.” Here our host paused, breathed deeply and closed her eyes. “And your Lehre, your father offered to show me. We left the tavern and walked away. I won’t say where to, that knowledge is still too dangerous, but I followed him and he showed me and he was quite right. He certainly would have changed the world. Goblins would have been free to choose their own paths. The world would have been free to choose its path – but one path of destruction is much like any other. And Ruraux would have been at the centre point of an empty world if I hadn’t stopped him.”

“You stopped him?” I cried in surprise. “How? What did you do?”

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TGC 21 In which we receive the hospitality of an elf

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 11:16:41 GMT

Several thing happened at once. In a flash, Handeln had drawn his club from his belt and launched it violently at the elf. Simultaneous to this, Manquer had drawn her knife and sent it gliding through the air. As these two objects flew across the clearing, time seemed to slow down. Stepping away from me the elf plucked first the club then the knife from the air as easily as one might pluck a plum from a tree.

Laying both at my feet, the elf spoke to my mother again, “I mean you no harm. I am,” the elf paused before repeating the words she had spoken to me, “separate from the rest of my kind.” There was something in the eerie calmness of the elf’s voice that seemed familiar but I couldn’t place what it was.

At that moment however, everyone’s attention was demanded by Handeln. With his fists clenched, he roared and charged at the elf. With every step, his pace increased and his roar grew louder. He was going so fast that there could be no doubt. The elf was going to be split in two. Handeln ducked as he ran and dived into the elf… except… The elf was no longer there. Handeln went flying head first into a tree trunk and fell back – dazed onto the forest floor.

The elf, who had simply taken half a step back, turned to Manquer and raised its eyebrows, “And you Manquer, do I need to put you into a tree along with your dwarf friend.”

Manquer almost smiled before she replied, “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Who are you? Why are you here? And how do you know so much about us?” It was my mother speaking now.

“I am an elf, separate from my kind. I have been waiting for you. As for how I know so much about you – I think you may be rather surprised by how much the world knows of the mother and child who entered the mines. The mother and child, who fought a mermaid. The mother and child, who burnt down Hafen. The mother and child, who feasted with orcs.”

“But that’s not true,” I cried, “you are a liar!”

The elf spoke without looking at me, “Little in this world is true little one, and less by the day. I, however, am not a liar. I did not say this of you; this is what the world has said of you. It talks of little else these days, from the moment the sun rises to the moment the moon floats into the sky the world whispers of the mother-goblin and her child,” the elf paused, before calmly adding, “The mother-goblin and her child and the light in the darkness that they represent.”

The elf stopped speaking then and an uneasy silence fell upon the clearing. A silence that none seemed willing to break. I had not realised our journey was so well known; I had thought we had made no impact. I had thought we had passed through the world like an ant; The world on the other hand thought we had passed through it like a dragon burning all in its path. I felt tears start to well behind my eyes and was grateful when the elf spoke again, “Come, you must all be exhausted. I would like to think I have proved I can be trusted.” The elf paused, “You are all still breathing after all.”

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TGC 20 In which we meet an Elf

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 11:14:55 GMT

Finally after what felt like a lifetime, we landed. Or to put it more accurately, I found myself crashing through increasingly thick and firm branches until finally I reached branches that were so thick that I stopped smashing through them and instead bounced from branch to branch to branch to the ground below.

I looked this way and that, searching for my mother. My heart started to thump; my breath started to quicken; she was nowhere to be seen. I felt a snake wind itself around my neck and opened my mouth to shriek.

“Shh…” The snake was an arm, pulling me close. I looked up into a beautiful face - a beautiful face of an elf. I leapt back - away from this villain. Turning, I stumbled through the undergrowth, tripping over a root. Crashing to the floor, I stumbled in terror on my hands and knees. Unperturbed, the elf slowly advanced on me. It raised its hands – about to curse me from one life to the next. Without thinking, I raised my hands and screamed.

I didn’t know that it was coming. I didn’t even feel the light coming; it must have come from within me although it had happened so quickly that I didn’t know it at the time. The light began by emanating from my torso and sparks raced down my arms to my hands, where the sparks joined together into crackling orbs of light – into two crackling orbs of power. Not knowing what to do, I threw my arms at the elf. Time seemed to slow down as the orbs soared through the space between us. The elf’s face contorted into a grimace of pain as the light crashed into its hands – forcing the elf backwards. First one step, then another – the elf forced to retreat as the light advanced upon it. Grimacing, the elf took another step back pushing desperately at the light. Then to my horror, I saw the two orbs of light slowly start to shrink; they had been the size of my head when I had cast them at the elf. They had shrunk to the size of a melon; they shrunk to the size of an apple; they shrunk to the size of a pea. And then, they disappeared.

Desperate, I tried to summon the light to protect me once more but it was no use. The elf’s face – serenely beautiful once again – advanced, still holding her hands aloft – threateningly. “I mean you no harm, goblin.” Her voice was soft and I was taken back to the night in Hafen, when the elf had ordered us to stop on the gangway. This elf’s voice was different – softer and warmer – but I knew my enemy. I gritted my teeth, determined not to be brought under the elf’s control. “I mean you no harm,” the elf repeated.

She sounded so reasonable, so kind, surely I could believe her. I bit down hard on my tongue. The bitter taste of blood filled my mouth. I knew she was my enemy. I turned and stumbled away again. Tripping over another root, I fell again. The elf was standing over me.

“If I wanted to hurt you,” the elf said sadly, “you would be powerless to stop me.”

A cool feeling of dread rose up from the pit of my stomach and filled me from my knotted hair to my knobbly toes. There was no point of fighting. I couldn’t beat an elf and she was right – there was nothing I could do. I fell back – sprawling out on the floor.

To my surprise, the elf turned and pulled a large leaf from a tree and passed it to me.

“Suck on this.”

“What?”

“Suck on it,” The elf repeated, “You are dehydrated. You are thirsty. You need water”

Not entirely convinced, I did as she said and sucked on the leaf. It was glorious! A strange sweet liquid seemed to burst from the leaf into my mouth. I sucked and sucked until the leaf shrivelled into a wilted rag. Greedily, I went to crawl to the tree to tear another leaf but the elf’s hand held me down with a surprising vice-like grip.

“No more or you’ll be sick. Rest now, we’ll be on the way soon. It’s not safe for us to stay here for too long. Elves will be looking for us.”

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TGC 19 In which Manquer makes a sacrifice

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 11:12:10 GMT

Manquer pulled at a rope fiercely, watched the sails fall, and nodded awkwardly as the ship lifted ever so slightly out of the water. Turning, I saw a ship, a huge ship, a colossal ship – the size of which I could never have even imagined - appear on the horizon. Even at a distance, one could tell that this was a truly tremendous ship. All one had to do was count the number of sails. There were scores of them; scores upon scores of white sheets billowing as the ship of the elves flew down the river towards us.

Our ship – so small and delicate by comparison – seemed to have summoned some hitherto unknown speed and was racing towards the opposite horizon.

Handeln stood at the side of the boat, gripping the bannister tightly in his strong hands. I watched him gulp uneasily as another gust of wind came to fill our sails.

“What are you doing?” Handeln cried.

“What does it look like?” Manquer replied - her voice still calmly melodic. “Fleeing the elves, now tighten that rope. Little one,” she said to me, “grip that rope, Scheren help your child.”

I followed Manquer’s orders unquestioningly and gripped the rope in my hands. I felt my mother reach around me and take hold of the ropes as well. “Hold tight darling,” she whispered – and hearing her words, I felt a flash of bravery flare up within my soul.

“You can’t outrun the elves,” Handeln roared at Manquer, who ignored him and continued to squint at the horizon. “We haven’t a hope of outrunning the elves.”

Manquer didn’t turn to him – in fact to look at Manquer, one would have no idea that she’d even heard him. Her words floated through the air, “Dwarf, when did I say anything about outrunning the elves? And when are you going to hold that rope?”

Confused at Manquer’s words, I looked up to see where she was heading and was surprised to see the horizon was now no more than perhaps two hundred feet away. I was suddenly away of a strange burbling noise – faint at first but growing stronger all the time, as though a solitary chick chirping for its mother had been joined by hundreds upon hundreds of other lost chicks all searching for their mothers.

Quickly, the burbling grew to the roar of a lion as we came closer still to the horizon. First one lion, then two then dozens all roaring ferociously at us. The water had started to bubble ominously around us. And the horizon couldn’t be further than twenty feet away. The water – the river – ended - abruptly. Our ship sailed out into the air and seemed to float strangely in the air. It was as if time had frozen – as if Manquer had frozen time. I saw Handeln’s knuckles whiten as he gripped the rope; I felt my mother simultaneously hold me and the rope; I saw Manquer move impossibly fast. I saw the sun flash on her knife swishing through the air as she cut rope after rope. First one rope, then another. She seemed to cut every rope on that ship until suddenly time regained control.

Suddenly, I realised what Manquer had been doing, she’d been cutting the sail free from the ship. The ship plummeted down alongside the water that raced down into an unruly cauldron of foam and danger far below. Manquer, Handeln, Mother and I on the other hand floated gently in the breeze as air filled our boatless sail. The sail blew one way and then the other and we dangled from it like dandelion seeds blowing in the wind.

As we floated there - three goblins and a dwarf suspended in the air – I looked back at the river. It looked as if it had run to the edge of the world and simply fallen over the edge and was pouring violently down the side of a cliff into the beginning of a new world far below. The water, once still and blacky-blue was now a raging torrent of white violence roaring ferociously at the world.

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TGC 18 In which we travel further up the Schwer

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 11:08:53 GMT

As I sat with my line in the water, my mind drifted. My mind drifted back into the fogs of my memory to a time long long ago. I remembered fishing – fishing with my father. I remembered his arms around me, helping me to hold the line. I remembered feeling the rumble of his chest as he spoke: guiding me as I baited the line, guiding me as I cast it out, guiding me as I reeled it in. I remembered all of the fish we caught that day. I remembered how my father had placed his hand on mine as I went to bait another line and I remembered the words he spoke to me as he lifted me up: “If you take more than your share from this world, you can be sure the world will take its share back from you.”

I thought on his words as I placed the last of the dozen or so fish I had caught into the bucket and handed it to Handeln to cook over his fire-in-a-barrel. I sat with my feet hanging over the edge of the deck - enjoying the cool spray of the water as the ship flew up the river and I wondered whether I hadn’t taken more than my share from the world that day.

As we moved further and further up the river, the trees seemed to grow taller and taller. Their branches stretched out towards the sky. These huge trees seemed to me as though they were silent sentries surveying the river, warning those that travelled it that while they may be brave enough to venture up the water, they would be foolish to step off their boats and onto the dry land. Ominous calls of beasts that I could not imagine floated out of the forest and across the water to my nervous ears. Gulping, I lifted myself up and wandered back to where Handeln stood turning the fish over and over.

“You alright little goblin.” He asked me, with his usual gruff voice.

I nodded and together we sat in silence, staring at the river as we watched the tall trees glide past us. Together we sat in silence as beautiful multi-coloured birds soared around us. Together we sat in silence as the ship cut silently through through the water - continuing its course up the river. We sat in silence until I looked up and saw tears streaming down from behind Handeln’s glasses and into his big bushy beard.

“Handeln,” I said, “Handeln, what’s wrong?”

“Nuffin,” his voice sounded tight and constricted as though he were fighting back a sob.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I hugged him as best as I could manage. At this point, his chest began to heave and he let out a strangled sob. He shook with such ferocity that I struggled to hold him and so I hugged him all the tighter until his shaking faded to a gentle rising and falling of his shoulders.

“It’s the bloody orcs,” he sniffed finally able to speak, “I been fightin’ ‘em all my life. For what? No reason. No bloody reason. Only cos I didn’t know what they was. I’m like a bloody elf. Fight ‘em. Fight anyone who ain’t you. They look different to you. Fight ‘em. They sound different to you. Fight ‘em. They live different to you. Fight ‘em. Fight ‘em. Bloody fight ‘em.” He sobbed hysterically and again his shoulders began to heave. “’Nd they’re bloody peaceful. Who’s the beast? Who’s the savage? Not the bloody orcs.”

“You didn’t know,” I said awkwardly, “You didn’t know.”

“Don’t matter,” Handeln sniffed, “I was in the wrong”

“It does –“ I began to speak but stopped unsure of what to say. Fortunately, the little I’d said seemed to have been enough, for Handeln sniffed heartily, gulped and wiped his eyes.

“Bless you little goblin,” Handeln gulped, clapping me on the back. “Maybe Manquer’s right after all.”

“What did Manquer say?” I asked, suddenly tense – eager to learn more about the mysterious Manquer. What these words were though, I never found out for at that moment we saw a ship of bones come racing up the Schwer towards us – we saw a ship of bones come racing up the Schwer from Hafen towards us.

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TGC 17 In which I talk to Manquer

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 11:01:02 GMT

I barely slept that night. I couldn’t. My mind wouldn’t let me. Every time I closed my eyes, I was transported back to the gangway in Hafen. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the elf’s soft chanting and the lapping of the water against the bollards of the walkway. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the strange ominous clouds that the elves had summoned. But most of all, every time I closed my eyes I felt a strange fear grip me - a fear and a terror at the words the elf had spoken and my helplessness to do anything but obey.

I feared what would happen were the elves to find us again.

Manquer didn’t sleep either. I know that. She stood at the tiller under the moonlight – her hands constantly fidgeting as she adjusted the rudder this way and that - desperate to harness the wind to take us up the Schwer.

I don’t believe that Mother or Handeln slept that night but they were both set on at least appearing to sleep - so feeling simultaneously bold and nervous, I pulled myself up and lurched along the deck towards Manquer. She said nothing as I approached. In fact, there was not the slightest inclination that she was even aware that I had approached.

“Manquer,” I squeaked – nervous as I always was, whenever I addressed Manquer.

Nothing.

“Manquer,” I repeated, “Can I ask you something?”

Still nothing.

Emboldened by the lack of rebuke, I gulped and asked the question, “Manquer, have you ever seen a goblin summon the light?”

Still, Manquer said nothing – her face still set on the night waters. About to turn away, Manquer spoke suddenly – quietly and slowly. “Summon the light,” she repeated, “what do you mean.”

I paused, unsure of how to describe what I was sure had happened back in the caves. “Like, like in a dark place. If I – if a goblin was in a cave and somehow they made it light up.”

I looked up and saw Manquer’s face twitch – just for a moment, before she answered, “I’ve only known one goblin, who could do that which you speak of.”

I could barely stop myself from gasping, “Who? Who could do that Manquer?”

Saying nothing – Manquer continued to peer out at the darkness until she spoke, “Have you asked your mother about this, child?”

She won’t believe me! I wanted to shout but instead I nodded meekly.

“And what did she say.”

“She said that illumination’s incredibly difficult magic,” I sighed – aware that with this – the conversation was over. As I thought on this, another question popped into my head. “How did you know those orcs?” I asked – curious that a goblin could possibly know orcs.

“Those orcs,” Manquer replied, “I’ve never met those orcs before in my life.”

“But, you spoke to them.”

“Yes.”

“You knew them.”

“No.”

“So, why did you speak to them?”

“I wanted to know if they’d heard anything about us?”

“Why did they tell you?”

“Because I asked,” It was Manquer’s turn to be confused, “What did you expect?”

I paused. I didn’t know what I’d expected to happen. The orcs had seemed so wild, when they approached. “I thought,” I whispered, “I thought they were going to fight us.”

Manquer snorted, “You’ve spent too long talking to that dwarf.”

“Handeln,” I whispered defensively, “Handeln is the only one who will talk to me.”

“You’re talking to me,” Manquer replied – a hint of irritation in her voice.

“Yeah, I suppose so. I’m sorry.” My eyes were fixed on her feet now.

“It’s not a problem,” Manquer said slowly. “I’ll tell you what I know of orcs. I sailed on a ship of orcs for several seasons. They’re excitable; they’re energetic; they have an old culture. You saw the bones coming out of them?”

I nodded.

“Have you ever hurt your arm? Or your foot?”

I nodded.

“It was sore – I expect. And after a while it got better.”

I nodded again.

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TGC 16 In which we encounter orcs

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:58:37 GMT

I woke to find Handeln and my mother shaking me frantically. Terrified that the Elves had found us, I jumped up at once. It was not elves though that terrified my mother; looking across the water I saw something as different from the elves as could be.

I had never seen such a horror. A horror that sent a shiver racing down my back. I suppose to best describe it is to say to imagine a ship – a normal ship, but rather than wooden planks, there were bones! Bones upon bones upon bones. Fused together by some dark and dangerous magic the like of which I had never seen.

I gulped. I shivered. Sweat poured down my back.

As their ship drew closer to ours, a drumming seemed to suddenly grow from the previously eerie silence. The ship drew closer still and for the first time I glimpsed an orc. The creature scurried up the ropes to the mast – the mast of bones. I watched the orc swinging itself up the rope as its crew mates drummed louder, louder and louder still. I looked closer and saw how sinewy the orc’s arms were. Finally reaching the top of the mast-of-bones, the orc turned - rags barely clinging to its torso – and stared at me. It stared at me and there was nothing I could do but gulp in terror and stare back – completely captivated by its monstrosity. From its eyebrows, broken bones protruded. From its cheeks, broken bones protruded. From its lips, broken bones protruded, and its yellow eyes stared hungrily at me. I was only a little relived to see Handeln holding his club tightly in his hand.

Their ship drew closer still. It couldn’t be more than ten yards away from us now. I’d imagine that Handeln would have been able to leap it had he been so inclined; Handeln however seemed decidedly uninclined to leap aboard the orc ship: his hand that wasn’t holding his club was now inching towards the dagger - sheathed in his belt. I felt a hand land on my shoulder; looking up, I saw my mother stood above me, her jaw set defiantly. I let her move me behind her without protest. I crouched down to stare at the orcs through the little safety that my mother’s legs provided.

I watched as two orcs lifted a third onto their shoulders. With an astonishing grace, the third orc leapt in a great arc from their ship to ours. What happened next occurred in a flash. The orc landed without so much as thud behind me. It turned to look at me with horrifying yellow eyes. It smiled a horrible pointed-teeth smile. Broken bones punctured its skin. It took one step towards me. Handeln was between us in a flash. His club rushed violently through the sky towards the orc’s unprotected skull. But then his hand froze in mid-air. A ferocious crack had cut through the air as a shimmering emerald whip had wrapped itself around Handeln’s wrist with a cruel strength. My eyes traced the whip all the way to its handle held by none other than the hooded Manquer. As usual, I couldn’t see her face.

“Argghhhh, what are you doing?” snarled Handeln, with a rare venom in his voice.

“What am I doing,” repeated Manquer in her usual melodic voice, “saving your life, you fool. Do you think we can fight fifty orcs and live?”

“They want to eat the little one!” Handeln hissed back.

“Eat it!” Manquer laughed melodiously, “They just want to see it you fool. They’ve never seen a goblin child before.” She spoke to me now, “Child, I promise you you’re safe. Take a step forward.”

With my heart hammering, I stepped forwards. The orc did the same.

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TGC 15 In which we begin our (second) journey

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:55:35 GMT

I slept not a wink that night. The smell of burning timber seemed to engulf the entire lake. Its bitterness filled my nostrils as I wriggled and writhed on the floor of the ship. The edges of the planks seemed to push into me no matter how I positioned myself. Eventually, I gave up and watched the moon float across the star-filled sky. I was surprised by how steady the ship was; it cut through the water as effortlessly as a knife through butter.

Silently, we carved through the water – black under the night sky. Manquer stood – hooded – at the stern of the ship, silhouetted against a sea of stars to make her look more like a statue towering above us than just a mere goblin. Handeln sat close to her, leaning lazily against a barrel. Mother meanwhile lay a foot or so from me, staring resolutely up at the stars in the sky. So it was that as we sailed away from Hafen across the great lake towards the Schwer – I realised that I had never felt so alone.

Gradually, the stars began to fade away as the eastern horizon slowly started to lighten. An hour or so later, the sun started to peek over the trees that lined the lake and finally rose up into the sky, banishing the darkness. I lifted myself from the hard wooden floor, shuffled over to the side of the ship, and peered out at the distant coast. It must have been miles away; the trees that no doubt would have towered over our ship (masts and all) seemed smaller than a fingernail. Looking higher still, I noticed quite how huge the sky was out here in the middle of the lake, stretching all around us. It seemed as I looked at it, that it had in fact stretched too far and started to tear in the middle, leaving huge white clouds and silence to fill the gaps between.

“Quite something isn’t it.” Handeln’s grunt took me by surprise. He was startlingly light of foot when he wanted to be.

Still angry at him for his deceit, I shrugged indifferently - unwilling to engage him in conversation.

“The sky that is,” Handeln grumbled on. “I’ve never seen the sky like this before. Size. The sheer magnificence of it.” He seemed to be talking to himself now, his voice more of an absent-minded mumble than his usual grumble. “Makes you think- as flies to wanton boys- and time- it’s all there- stretching- back to the beginning. On. On to what?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked crossly – so confused by his ramblings that I forgot that I wasn’t talking to him.

“I’m just thinking about an old friend,” Handeln sighed, “a philosopher.”

“A philowhat.”

He chuckled, “a philosopher. It’s a fancy word. It means someone who thinks about things.”

“Don’t we all think about things?”

He chuckled again, “Yes, yes I suppose we do. I guess it’s what they think that makes them different. They come up with different thoughts – different ideas,” he paused, before adding, “or maybe they just think they’re cleverer than the rest of us.”

“That sounds like my father,” I said, staring at the horizon as I spoke, “the first bit that is, not the second bit.”

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

“Wait, do you know him?” I asked, startled.

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TGC 14 In which elves come to Hafen

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:53:17 GMT

I was still lying, staring at the ceiling, when Flussmann burst through the door of our room – wide-eyed and panicked.

“Elves,” he gasped, “here in Hafen, looking for Goblins.”

Mother was already upright – fully alert. In a moment, she was looming over me. “Come,” she said.

“I-I’ve been told t-to t-take you to Manquer,” Flussmann stammered nervously. He looked so nervous that I wondered - as I lifted myself from my bed of sawdust - whether he’d overheard the raised voices of the night before.

To my relief however, Mother seemed to have no interest in revisiting those heighted emotions. “Lead the way,” she spoke calmly.

Flussmann turned on his heel, stepped through the door, and started to descend the stairs. Mother followed close behind, gripping my hand tightly as she did. Flussmann stopped, crouching at the entrance to the inn, listening intently. Satisfied that he heard nothing, he slowly eased the door open and stepped out into the night. Still gripping my hand, my mother led me out into the night.

Looking up, I was surprised not to see the stars that I’d come to expect to see at night. Instead, over the town strange black clouds had unfurled. Strange, sinister, threatening clouds. They seemed to be constantly moving – unforming and reforming. It was almost as though the clouds themselves were searching for something – or someone. I opened my mouth to speak to my mother but she seemed to sense my thoughts and I felt her hand clamp over my mouth.

On we walked, slow and silent, desperate not to make a sound. As we turned down one of the boardwalks, I was shocked to feel myself flung into the shadows of an unlit doorway by my mother. Biting my tongue to stop myself crying out, I looked around at what had prompted this violence. I saw nothing. Upset at mother’s increasingly volatile behaviour towards me, I wriggled and writhed, desperate to break free of her vice-like grip.

Then I heard it. The faintest rustle coming from right above us. It was barely a noise at all - little louder than a breath, but still I heard it. I could feel the magic of the elf, pulsing down from the thatched roof above us. I felt a strange feeling grow within myself. A strange tickling feeling was building in the pit of my stomach. It built. It grew. It rose within me.

I gasped silently and to my horror, I saw a faint wisp of light disappear into the darkness before my eyes. I shut my mouth and thrust my hands – balled into fists – deeper into my pockets. Looking down, I saw – in terror – that my pockets were now glowing ever so lightly.

Then, suddenly I felt a calmness descend upon me. A small seed of knowledge had been planted deep within me. These were the elves. The noble elves. I could trust the elves. They would see my light and understand it. They would be able to convince my mother. I would be safe. Now, I felt an undeniable urge to take a small step out from the doorway. A small step out from the doorway into the embrace of elven magic. I could see no reason to stay here. They were elves. Surely, they would cause me no harm. I could feel my mother’s grip on my arm loosening. Clearly, she too was thinking that these elves meant us no harm. Just as I was about to step out of the doorway, I heard an almighty bang somewhere in the distance. I felt – rather than heard - the Elf above us turn and move away. As the elf’s magical hold over us waned, my sensibilities returned to me and I became aware of how terrifyingly close I’d come to throwing away all the sacrifices my mother and I had made.

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TGC 13 In which we meet the mysterious Manquer

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:50:22 GMT

Unremarkable - that was how I would describe Manquer, now that she stood hoodless before me. She was a goblin. A plain and simple goblin and I could not fathom for the life of me, why she was spoken of in such hushed tones throughout Hafen. In fact, as I looked at Manquer stood there, illuminated by the flickering flames of the dwindling fire I thought she even looked weak. There was nothing of the danger that I’d imagined, when I had heard her name whispered on every pier of Hafen.

“Hello Scheren,” she spoke again with the same haunting melody in her voice. Her knees were bent; her shoulders hunched so as to almost cover her ears.

“Manquer,” Mother said her name slowly as though she couldn’t believe she was seeing her. Stiffly, she forced her words out, “Why are you here?”

“I heard there was a goblin – a goblin and her child seeking passage to Nirvaasan. I had to come and see.”

Mother turned to look at Handeln. “This dwarf,” she spat, “told you no doubt. Typical dwarf. Never trust a dwarf!” Mother sounded close to hysteria.

Handeln raised his eyebrows behind his blackened goggles, but didn’t seem overly hurt by my mother’s words. Manquer on the other hand winced nervously, although her voice still held the same melodic quality that suggested neither happiness nor anger – neither bravery nor fear. Simply the sound of a present existence. “Handeln told me nothing,”

“Handeln!” repeated my Mother – shrieking hysterically, “Handeln! Friends are you. I should have known it. Friends with a –”

“Handeln told me nothing; I saw you arrive last night.” Manquer paused and seemed to shrink a little into herself before she spoke again. “I followed you since you escaped the caves.”

 “You what!” Mother seemed to grow – empowered by a righteous fury that I found simultaneously reassuring and terrifying. “You have been following us – since we left the caves!”

I thought back to the strange feeling I had that we were being watched as we had walked along the banks of the lake. We had indeed been being watched – we’d been being watched by the mysterious Manquer. The mysterious Manquer who now stood so timidly in front of my mother, saying nothing but nodding slowly.

Mother’s mouth slowly opened and closed, opened again and shut again. It was as though she were too confused – or perhaps too angry – to speak. “You followed us,” she said again, “since we left the caves!”

Manquer nodded again.

“Why?”

Still Manquer said nothing but she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small golden chain. Mother’s mouth fell open. It was the very same chain that Havfrue had stolen from her.

“Where did you get that?” Mother whispered.

“I’ve never let it go,” came Manquer’s reply and finally her voice almost seemed to crack, “Where is yours?”

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TGC 12 In which I learn the name of a dwarf

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:47:47 GMT

Mother stormed away ahead of me. Practically jogging to keep up, I pulled at her sleeve, but alas she would not be slowed. Over the uneven boards, she stormed. Past the huddled groups of dwarves, she marched, all the way back to the inn with her hands balled into fists. All the while, I jogged behind her. I could barely recognise my mother; she was so angry. A strange power seemed to radiate from her – a power so fierce that I saw several dwarves we passed visibly back away into doorways.

Once we made it back to the inn, Mother stormed through the curtain, up the stairs and slammed the door to our room behind her before I’d even started to climb the stairs. I felt hot tears run down my grimy cheeks and heard a voice speak beside me – a gruff voice with a sprinkling of kindness but now a hint of mystery was present too or was it menace. “Come – little goblin. I think your mother needs a little time.” It was the dwarf again, I turned to face him, ready to roar. I now knew he’d been following us that day. I had no proof – but I was sure he’d made certain no ship would offer us passage to Nirvaasan. But turning to face him, I felt my anger fade away like water draining from a sink. It’s a funny thing, it’s an awful lot easier to be angry at someone or something you can’t see. Much easier to be angry at an idea or a perceived slight than an actual being. “Come – little goblin,” he repeated, his voice was softer now, “come and sit by the fire a little while. Your mother will come down soon enough.”

Reluctantly, I allowed him to guide me by my shoulders back through the curtain and be seated in one of the soggy armchairs I’d sat in the night before.

“Flussmann,” called the dwarf, “bring me some milk.” He lowered himself into the armchair next to mine, pulled a bronze coin from his pocket and turned to face me.

I pointedly turned away. Desperate to look at anything besides his stupid glasses, I surveyed the room and noticed something that I hadn’t spotted when Mother had stormed through the room: a hooded figure slumped on the floor. The figure looked as though they were sleeping, their chest rising and falling gently as they breathed. There was something about this figure that made me feel uneasy – an aura about them – a dormant unbridled power – present even as they slept on the floor of an inn. Suddenly feeling that the dwarf’s stupid glasses were a preferable sight to be looking at to this strange figure, I turned to face him.

“Don’t worry about them - little goblin,” He nodded at the hooded figure. “I know them well enough; they’ll do you no harm.”

“I wasn’t worrying about them,” I snapped at him.

He chuckled at that. “I sense – little goblin – that you might be a little angry with me.”

I said nothing and Flussmann chose that moment to arrive with the milk.

“There we go,” said the dwarf with the glasses. “put it there Flussmann, good lad.” Flussmann placed the steaming mug on the table between the dwarf with the glasses and me before shuffling back through the curtain.

“What I can promise you – little goblin,” the dwarf continued, unperturbed by the one-sided nature of our conversation, “is that in spite of your appearances, I am a friend. You can trust me, although I know better than most that trust can never be commanded and only ever earned so I will sit here until your mother comes down but I won’t try to make you talk to me.” With that, he leaned back into his chair and rolled the brass coin he had in his hands over his knuckles and back the other way.

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TGC 11 In which mother searches – and fails to find – a passage to Nirvaasan

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:44:38 GMT

Mother was standing by the window, looking out at the floating village of Hafen, when I awoke. Yawning, I stretched, jumped to my feet and shook myself free of the sawdust.

“What will we do today mother?”

“Today, my darling, we will find a passage to Nirvaasan,” Mother said determinedly.

I followed her down the spiralling staircase, through the curtain and into the dingy room we’d sat in the night before. The two dwarves, who had been sat in the armchairs when we had arrived were back in them now – both smoking their pipes as they had the night before. The dwarf with the strange glasses was nowhere to be seen; the younger dwarf – Flussmann – smiled at us as we passed out onto the boardwalk.

Once outside, a feeling of panic suddenly descended on me. In the darkness of the night, I’d been unable to see how close we’d been to the water; in the cruel light of day, there was no room for the comfort of ignorance. I saw the lake stretching out in front of me – for mile after mile. And the boardwalk had cracks in! Huge cracks! Cracks that I felt sure I could have fallen through! It was little more than a couple of planks nailed together. What madness was this! I clutched desperately to mother’s hand as she strode apparently unaware of the perilous danger lurking mere feet below us. Fighting the feeling of nausea, I forced myself to look up and around. I saw hundreds of small huts all bobbing up and down on the water. I imagined how it may look to a bird flying above – like the gently pulsing needles of a porcupine.

Feeling my mother veer away from the huts down an even narrower walkway, my attention snapped back to the present. We were approaching a small ship, where three dwarves were passing a steaming tin cup between them. Each of the dwarves took a sip before passing the cup on to the next. Between the three dwarves, a trapdoor lay open to the hull below the deck. As we approached, I would have sworn I’d seen two metallic circles flashing at me from the darkness of the hull but when I looked again, they were gone and only darkness remained.

“Good day,” Mother called out to them in a strange voice that I’d never heard her use before – a slower deeper voice than hers. It seemed strange to me that she would choose to speak in somebody else’s voice, but I suppose that was her prerogative. “I’m seeking a passage.”

The dwarves ignored her and continued to pass their steaming cup from one to the next.

“I can pay.”

They looked up at that, one even lifted himself from the side of the ship that he’d been lent against and ambled towards us. “Pay what?” he grunted in a similarly rough voice as the dwarf at the inn although the kindness present in the innkeeper’s voice was notably absent here.

“Whatever the price,” there was a steel in my mother’s new voice – I heard that now.

“That’s a high price,” murmured the dwarf, his eyes fixed upon my mother, “where would you want to be travelling for such a high price?”

“Nirvaasan,”

The dwarves roared with laughter.

“Nirvaasan,” cackled the dwarf.

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TGC 10 In which we find lodgings with a new friend

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:22:59 GMT

Mother wouldn’t answer me, when I asked who this mysterious Manquer was. She didn’t even acknowledge that I’d spoken, she just dragged me behind her, moving nimbly across the planks of boardwalks that gently rose and fell with the water they floated upon. She approached an inn and pulled me in after her.

It was as quiet as the grave in there. Two old dwarves sat in armchairs that were bursting at the seams, pushed against yellowing walls, their faces illuminated only by a solitary candle resting on the barrel between them.

Quickly forgiving mother for ignoring me, I sidled closer to her – keen to feel the protection of her arms around me. As we waited to be seen, I ripped my eyes away from the two dwarves – smoking their pipes – to look around the dark and dingy room, there was a mismatch of furniture. No two pieces were alike, there was a wooden chair here, a stone stool there. Barrels doubled up as makeshift tables; a table doubled up as a makeshift bench. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw that one wall was covered entirely by a dirty crimson curtain hanging from the ceiling.

I watched as another dwarf stepped out from behind the curtain. The first thing I noticed about him – as with all dwarves – was his beard. Compared to the dwarf we had just encountered outside, it was a positively miniscule thing, barely reaching halfway down his belly. His hair was shorter than was normal for a dwarf as well – much shorter and tightly pulled back, so that his face seemed to stretch up over his skull. The strangest thing about him though were the brass glasses he wore. I’m not sure they were glasses truth be told, they were strange, two perfect black circles that presumably sat over his eyes and set into a strange brass frame that formed a seal around his eyes held in place by a thick leather strap.

Carrying a lantern, he slowly hobbled towards us, nodding politely at each of us in turn when he reached us.

“Goblins,” he grunted by way of a greeting. There was a gruffness to his voice although there was something else present too - a kindness perhaps.

“We are,” Mother gulped, “We’ve come from Ruraux. We’ve been travelling for well over a week. Please, we just need somewhere to sleep. We’ll sleep here on the floor if needs be. Just please give us some shelter!” I looked up surprised. Mother sounded fraught, as though a place to sleep were a matter of life and death.

The dwarf raised his hand and I felt my mother grow tense. “Calm yourself Missus Goblin,” he said. “I’m sure we have room for two more.” He turned then and raised his voice to call to someone presumably on the other side of the curtain. “Flussmann, bring through sherry and some hot milk.” He turned then to the two dwarves sat in the armchairs on the other side of the dark room. “Sorry chaps, I think it’s time for you to be leaving.”

Startled, the two dwarves looked disgruntledly up at the dwarf, but thought better of arguing with him and shuffled out, grumbling softly as they passed Mother and me.

“Now then,” the dwarf with the strange glasses spoke again. “Why don’t we all take a seat and have a little drink. You two look like you need it.” As we settled ourselves into the soggy armchairs another dwarf shuffled into the room from behind the curtain. This dwarf was young, perhaps only a year or two older than I was, and not yet fully-grown. His beard barely reached his shoulders and he was – I guessed – roughly three-quarters the height of the dwarf with the strange glasses.

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TGC 09 In which we reach the town of Hafen

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:20:17 GMT

I woke with a start the next morning. Confused at seeing the sun blazing down at me. Unnerved by the sound of water lapping at the sand. It took me a while to realise where we were.

We had done it - I reminded myself.

We had escaped the mine.

Naturally, mother was already wide-awake. Cooking a freshly-caught fish on a resurrected fire.

Once we’d eaten and I’d got all of the fish bones out of my teeth (which took substantially longer than the eating) mother threw some water over the fire and led me along the bank of the water. With the sun bearing down on us, we walked for hour upon hour. It was tiring but unlike in the mine, I could see where we were going. It made me thirsty but unlike in the mine, there was water besides me all the while that I could drink from. I wanted to stop all the while but unlike in the mine, I could always find the strength to keep on going. To keep on walking. To keep on following my mother. With every step, we put more distance between ourselves and the mine.

As we walked, I couldn’t shake the peculiar feeling that something – or someone – was watching me. Hidden by the bushes that grew on the banks of the water. I could never say for certain but there was always a feeling – a feeling of a presence lurking just out of sight. Occasionally, I was sure I glimpsed a small shapeless figure but whenever I turned to look again – I saw nothing. I opened my mouth, to tell my mother but in the end I thought better of it.

On we walked, scrambling over slippery rocks. On we walked, trudging along muddy sands. On we walked, wading through shallow waters. On we walked – getting ever closer to where we needed to be. All the while I looked for Hafen, but in the daytime it was nowhere to be seen. It was strange; at night, the lights of Hafen had blazed like a beacon but now I saw nothing but the banks rising out of the lakes in the distance.

Confused, I asked mother and she explained to me that the lights at night could be seen from great distances, but in the day there was a whole world to see so one could not pick out small details. In all honesty, I’m not sure I believed her but as the sun set and the stars started to pierce the night sky, I saw the lights of Hafen once again. And to my surprise, they were now closer - much much closer. I looked back at the way we’d come, trying to gauge how far we’d travelled, but I found it impossible to spot where we’d slept the night before.

Still, we made our way onwards, until finally I began to make out huts beneath the thousands of lights. And as we approached closer still, I saw that each hut was floating on the water. Then as we came even closer, I saw boardwalks linking the huts to each other and noticed a huge armada of floating ships. Until finally, we found our way blocked by a dwarf with a huge purple beard that stretched down to his knees.

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice seemed unnecessarily rough and unkind to me.

“My name is Scheren and I am from Ruraux.” My mother replied, her voice as polite as the dwarf’s had been uncaring. “This is my child.”

“Goblins from Ruraux,” frowned the dwarf. “You’re a long way from home.”

“We don’t intend to stay,” mother said quickly. “We’re just seeking passage to Nirvaasan. If there’s anyone you know who’s going up the Schwer. We’ll be on the first ship.”

“Nirvaasan!” yelped the dwarf. “You’ll be lucky! There’s only one fool mad enough to venture to Nirvaasan.”

“And what’s his name?” my mother replied anxiously.

“Her name,” corrected the dwarf. “Her name is Manquer.” He paused, before adding. “Are you alright there?”

I looked up at mother. She looked as though she was about to faint.

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TGC 08 In which we sleep beneath the stars

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:16:53 GMT

That night, my mother made a fire and we sat there on the edge of the water. We ate fish and we were warm. For the first time since we left the house, I wasn’t hungry and I wasn’t cold. We talked, while we ate. We talked about home; we talked about my friends; we even talked about her friends. I thought about telling her about how I’d dreamt of father but I thought it might upset her - so I decided against it.

Instead, I looked out at the water and saw on the other bank – far far away hundreds of specks of light.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing at the specks of light.

“That-,” she replied with a sigh, “that is Hafen, where we’ll have to find a shipman, who’s willing to take us up the Schwer to Nirvaasan.” She stood then, stretching her arms towards the sky. “Darling,” she smiled down at me stiffly, “I’m going to go for a wander. I won’t go far; I’ll be able to see you all the while. You stay here. Do you understand me?”

I nodded and she stalked away. I watched her go - her movements stiff and rigid. Knowing that she wanted some time alone, I stared up at the stars twinkling in the sky. Such beautiful lights they were, twinkling in the heavens and looking down at us. Such beautiful lights they were. Beautiful lights. Lights. I remembered the light. The light I’d summoned. The light, which my mother insisted hadn’t come from me. Despite myself, I felt angry. I knew in my heart that the light had come from deep within me and my mother refused to believe me.

Gritting my teeth, I placed my hands on the sand and pushed myself up onto my knees. I was going to prove it. I was going to summon the light. I held my hands out in front of me and concentrated – and. And I failed to summon the light. I thought back to how it had happened. I’d heard the hiss of the shlangund. I had screamed. Maybe my scream had summoned the light. Gulping, I turned and looked for my mother. She was nowhere to be seen; I turned back to the lake. Standing up, I balled my small hands into fists and screamed – and. And again I failed to summon the light.

Frustrated, I collapsed back into the sand and stared at the sky – stared at the stars. And as I lay there, staring at the stars my mind drifted up away from me and across the night air. It drifted back into the fogs of my memory to a time, when my father had returned home from the tavern with his friends. They’d made such a ruckus as they staggered through the door. Mother had been furious; she’d tried to send me to bed, but father had lifted me up from my three-legged chair and had carried me out into the night sky. He’d thrown me up into the air and caught me. I can still remember looking up at the stars as I floated up towards them, before inevitably plummeting back down into his waiting arms – floating up and plummeting down – floating up and plummeting down.

It had looked to me then as though a black sheet had been thrown over Ruraux, but a small pixie or some other sprite had flown up and taken bites out of the sheet and through those holes in the black sheet the moon shone. I’d shouted this to my father and he’d roared with laughter as held me close to him and danced his way back into our house. He’d pulled my mother close too– her face still a portrait of fury – and we’d bounced around the kitchen – until she could maintain her anger no longer and joined us dancing around the kitchen, Father singing strange slurred songs all the while, until finally I was tucked into bed – protesting all the while.

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TGC 07 In which I am rudely awoken – with a fish

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:14:06 GMT

“Slowly,” his voice was deep, calming and soothing.

I pulled at the string with a nervous energy – frantically.

“Slowly,” he said again, more loudly this time with a tinge of frustration and a hint of laughter in his voice.

It was pulling against me; I pulled harder – quicker. Then suddenly, the line went slack and without the resistance, the rod flew back thwacking me in the face. I sank to my knees, and let out a growl of frustration, rolling in the pebbles and shells.

He was laughing – guttural rasping laughter that seemed to echo the wind that ran up and down the valley.

Frustrated, I slammed my hand into the stones and instantly regretted it - sharp cuts of pain darting into my palm.

He laughed again. “That wasn’t very sensible was it.”

“No.” I spat the word out sulkily.

“What did I say?” he asked, smiling widely at me.

“Slowly,” I grumbled.

“And did you pull slowly?”

I said nothing. What a stupid question. We both knew I hadn’t pulled slowly. If I had, the line wouldn’t have snapped.

“Come on,” he said, lifting me from the stones and dropping me on my feet. “Let’s have another go. We’ll have to rebait the line.”

I reached into my pocket, feeling the wet worms wiggling and wriggling around my fingers. I picked one and pulled it out. I put it on the end of the line that he held out in front of me and cast the line out into the lake.

“What will you do, if you get another bite?” he asked, smiling.

“Pull it in - slow-ly.” I replied, rolling my eyes as I spoke.

As we sat there, waiting for another bite, a cloud floated in front of the sun and a cold chill fell upon me.

“Father,” I said nervously, “where have you been?”

Rather than look at me, as he always did when we spoke, he stared out at the lake – at the horizon, where the blue lake met the blue sky. And when he spoke, he spoke with a great heaviness rather than his usual cheerfulness. “Searching,” he said with a sigh.

“Searching for what,” I said.

Still, he didn’t look at me; he looked to the sky – examining the clouds as they floated by. He breathed heavily. He stared at the sky and he breathed heavily. For a moment, I wondered whether he had heard me but just as I was about to repeat my question, he croaked a reply, “the future, I’m searching for the future.”

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TGC 06 In which we learn to swim – after a fashion

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:12:20 GMT

“I don’t know if this is a wise decision,” mother murmured anxiously, rolling the golden chain between her fingers. It was fair to say that she hadn’t leapt at the idea when I suggested it to her. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that she had thought it an appalling idea and much preferred the alternative of simply living in this eerie cave for the remainders of our lives. “Merpeople are dangerous creatures, darling. They’ve been known to even betray their own flesh. I’d sooner trust an elf than the merpeople. At least the elves are honest.”

“How many merpeople have you ever met?” I snapped crossly.

“That’s not the point, dear,” her voice had the same tone as when she’d refused to believe I’d illuminated the tunnel, and I felt myself getting hotter in spite of the cold air of the cave.

“Well how will we get to Nirvaasan from here?”

“We’ll find a way.”

“Mother,” I said firmly, “there’s no other way out and we both know it. If we don’t trust the mermaid, Father Leiter, Brother Dezent and Sister Gutig will be gone for nothing.”

For a long time, my mother said nothing; she simply sat there breathing deeply. Eventually, she nodded her head awkwardly. “You’re right,” she gulped, “I know you’re right - show me the way.”

I led her, beneath the looming stalactites, trying to keep my balance on the slippery floor of the cave. Peering at the puddles, I moved from one to the next – my eyes darting this way and that – searching for Havfrue.

“Over here.”

Hearing the strange faint-yet-deep murmur, I crouched down.

“Mother, This is Havfrue,” I said.

“Hello Havfrue, I’m Scheren,” Mother spoke breathlessly.

“Hello Sheren,” Havfrue spoke slowly, as though carefully weighing every word she said. “It will be my honour to guide you from this cave.” She turned to me, “Come now child, lift me from this pool, and carry your salvation.”

I placed my hands into the silvery liquid and felt a tingle shoot up my arms and through my body. I felt my arms spasm – sending ripples shooting across the surface of the pool. An expression of simultaneous incredulity, fury and fear flashed across Havfrue’s face, as she dived down into the pool. Circling around the pool as the ripples quickly flattened to leave the pool’s surface as flat as an empty sky once again.

“Be careful, oaf,” snapped the mermaid as she resurfaced, gently drifting through the pool towards my hands.

With my hands cupped around Havfrue, I gently lifted her from the pool. My eyes widened, as I saw her shrink further still as I raised my hands, shrinking from the size of my thumb to the size of one of my toes. But she didn’t stop there. She shrank further still, to the size of an ant. I could barely see her. Indeed, there were several instances as we crossed the cave to the edge of the cliff that I feared she’d disappeared, but on each occasion I brought my hands to my eyes and saw the tiny speck circling around anxiously in the liquid cupped in my hands.

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TGC 05 In which we encounter a mermaid

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 10:09:36 GMT

I awoke with a shiver. Opening my eyes, I was astonished to see that I could – well – see! I could see I was in a huge cave, comfortably one hundred times the size of our small home that we had left far behind us. Hundreds of stalactites hung threateningly from the roof of the cave. They were so numerous, that they hid the roof entirely. They looked like a huge upside-down hedgehog. And a flickering blue light made them look as though they were swaying ominously, waiting to fall on those foolish enough to rest in their cave.

Looking around nervously, I saw mother sleeping peacefully – not four yards from me. I saw her hands clutching at the gold chain that she usually wore around her neck; she must have taken it off during the night. I wondered why she’d done that – to comfort her perhaps. I didn’t know how a chain could provide comfort but I hoped it provided her with some degree of solace. I wanted to wake her, but as I looked at her, I saw how pale she had become; how dark the rings around her eyes had become; how frail she had become.

Looking around, I noticed that we’d stopped right on the edge of an ominous cliff. Falling to my belly, I crawled to the edge and looked over. It seemed to fall into an endless oblivion. With a gulp, I edged myself backwards towards mother. I looked around. High above, I could see a hole in one of the walls of the cave. Had mother climbed all the way down from there carrying me! How on earth had she done that without falling? She shivered then and I looked at her guiltily. I was causing such pain. What could I do?

Keen not to dwell on her suffering, I ventured off over the strangely smooth floor of the cave. It was covered in hundreds of small shallow puddles. Puddles of strange silvery liquid. I walked around, dodging between the myriad of mysterious puddles. Suddenly, I heard a splash. I looked around, desperately trying to spot where it had come from. Then, another splash. Closer this time. I whirled around, eyes flicking this way and that. Then I heard a voice.

“You! Watch where you’re going.” It was a strange voice. It had a strength and depth to it that reminded me of Father Leiter, but it was so quiet that I had to strain my ears just to hear it. I still couldn’t see where the voice was coming from.

“This is ridiculous” I sighed. “An eternity spent in the impenetrable darkness of the mines and now there is light, the voices are invisible.”

“I’m not invisible,” snapped the voice - quite clearly offended. “I’m here, next to your feet.”

I looked down, I could see nothing. I crouched and to my surprise I saw a small figure. It couldn’t have been bigger than my thumb, but it was there swimming in one of the silver puddles.

“Who are you?” I whispered, suddenly aware that my voice must seem incredibly loud to such a small little creature.

“My name is Havfrue,” explained the creature. She made another splash in the tiny puddle, and as she did so, I realised that in place of legs, she had a jet-black fish tail.

“Are you a mermaid?” I gasped.

“Aren’t you the observant one,” she replied - her deep voice laced with sarcasm.

“But you’re so small.”

“And polite as well,” sneered Havfrue.

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TGC 04 In which we navigate the mines

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 09:59:05 GMT

We stopped. I don’t know when. I didn’t know how long we’d been moving. I’d walked; I’d cried; I’d dragged at mother; I’d been dragged by mother; I’d been carried by mother. Through the caves, we’d travelled, coughing, retching, sneezing, crying until finally we stopped – or more accurately collapsed in a heap. Alone, in the depths of the mine we lay in a heap. My legs were aching; my arms were aching; my soul was aching. It was so dark that I could see nothing; I held my hand right in front of my eyes to check. Nothing. Pitch black. I could feel my mother though – feel her shaking, her chest heaving as she cried silent sobs. What had I done? This was all because of me. Because I had fallen, Father Leiter, Brother Dezent and Sister Gutig were gone – all gone – never to return. If I had been stronger, they’d still have been here, helping to guide us through these mines. These mines that had seemed so illicitly exciting but were now just a threatening labyrinth of hidden menace. I shivered. It was all my fault.

I crawled over to mother. “I’m sorry mother,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around her.

I felt her tighten as I spoke, she was furious. She blamed me – quite rightly – for what had happened to Father Leiter, Brother Dezent and Sister Gutig. I started crying. It was all my fault. I felt her push my arms from me and I cried harder still. She really did blame me. My own mother. But how could I complain. I had cost three goblins their lives. Three goblins who had done nothing but protect mother and I. I felt mother pull me in front of her. Unable to see her face, I pictured it: twisted into a mask of fury and contempt. I screwed up my face in anticipation of the stinging slap that I knew was surely coming. She pulled me close – pulled my cheek against hers. Her arms wrapped tightly around me – holding me close.

“You,” she choked, forcing her words through clenched teeth. She must have been furious with me. I was sure. How could she not be? “You,” she repeated, “have nothing to apologise for. Nothing. Do you hear me?” She was shouting now. I could feel the anger emanating from her. It came bursting out of her in hot pulses.

“But I fell,” I cried. “If I hadn’t fallen, they’d still be here. Father Lei-”

“You stop that this instant!” snapped Mother. “You have no responsibility for what happened. It was greed that sent us into that mine - the greed of the elves. And it was cruelty and barbarity that sent the shlangunds in after us – the cruelty and barbarity of the elves. The moment they sent those shlangunds in, Father Leiter knew he would never be leaving those mines. He had to do what he did. He had to – to protect us all. You heard what he said: ‘It’s a fine thing we’re doing. The best of things. Make no mistake.’”

I continued to cry and sob and shake and all the while mother held me. I loved her for that. For a moment, I forgot that I was down a mine, but rather thought I’d awoken at home in the middle of the night and had followed the sparkling of pixie dust along the wall to my parents room and she was just comforting me in the confines of our own home as she had done hundreds of times before. Then thinking of pixie dust that used to line the walls of our home, I remembered the walls of the tunnel illuminating as I screamed.

“Mother,” I sniffed. “When the shlangunds were coming, I screamed and the whole tunnel suddenly lit up.”

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TGC 03 In which a sacrifice is made

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 09:39:33 GMT

It was a strange noise: a cross between a bark and a hiss that seemed to come from behind us and rush around us into the depths of the mines, where it reverberated back up, slithering along the floor, enveloping the tunnel entirely. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as one. Our marching, so purposefully drum-like mere moments before disintegrated into a chaotic pitter-patter of panic. Raised voices rang out, bouncing from wall to wall. There was pushing now; the whole seething mass of bodies began to thrust and shove in a frenzied confusion.

I fell.

My breath was pushed from me as I felt foot after foot stand on me as the bodies pushed down on me. Like a stampede, they charged over my body. I tried to push myself upright, but it was impossible; it was like trying to stand with the weight of a mountain pushing down on me. Then suddenly, there was nothing but a faint ringing in my ears. I pushed myself up, staggered a few paces, and fell back to the rocky floor of the tunnel. Again, I pushed myself up – slowly this time, first to my knees then standing. As I regained my balance, the ringing in my ears subsided and I blinked in the darkness. I could see nothing. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Then there was the sound - a cross between a bark and a hiss. Where was it coming from? I couldn’t tell. It seemed to be getting closer. I opened my eyes. Still, I saw nothing. The ominous barking hissing sound came closer still.

I screamed.

As the scream left my mouth, the rocky walls of the tunnel suddenly burst into a dazzling white light and I saw where the noise was coming from. A pack of six shlangunds – each of them comfortably four times my size – were frozen in surprise at the sudden illumination. They could be no further than ten feet away from me. If they’d leapt, I’d have been dead already. I looked at them, crouching down; their muscular legs ready to pounce forward. Their huge yellow eyes staring hungrily at me, saliva dripping from their narrow mouths. Their mouths hissing and panting as they stared hungrily at me. Their black scales shining maliciously in the light of the walls. The light of the walls that I noticed now was beginning to fade. I was going to be left in the dark with six beasts. Six beasts salivating at the prospect of eating me. I tried to scream; I tried to turn and run. I couldn’t; all I could do was stand there petrified, staring at what seemed more and more likely to be the last thing that I would ever see. But, what was that? I heard something. It sounded like a faint whistling. And, I could feel something, a faint breeze coming from somewhere deep inside the mines. Yes, it definitely was; I wrenched my head around to see Mother, Father Leiter, Brother Dezent and Sister Gutig charging up the tunnel. Palms stretched in front of them. A furious wind following them up the tunnel. An ominous creeking filled the air and a huge chunk of the tunnel floor flew past me and smashed into one of the shlangunds sending it flying backwards.

“Scheren” Father Leiter’s voice, ringing with a righteous fury. “Take your child and run!”

I felt myself being lifted and carried away from the fading lights. I saw the shlangunds advancing on the three short figures illuminated by the tunnel’s response to my fearful scream. Three short figures, who I’d never known before that night. Three short figures, who I meant nothing to. Three short figures, who stood strong to turn back the approaching threat.

As my mother carried me further away, I saw one of the shlangunds leap hissing at Sister Gutig, knocking her to the floor. Another thudded into Brother Dezent. I saw Sister Gutig throw the shlangund that had pinned her to the floor high into the air. But it wasn’t enough, another was on her immediately. Then just before the mayhem went out of sight, I heard Father Leiter roar. “It’s a fine thing we’re doing. The best of things. Make no mistake.”

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TGC 02 In which we enter the mines

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 09:29:29 GMT

My mother was on me in an instant, crouched in front of me and pulled me close to her. “Listen to me now. Father Leiter is going to take us through the mines. Hold my hand and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

I nodded. I tried to speak but there was a lump in my throat. I could feel hot tears running down my face. Father Leiter threw his hands at the wonky old door of our home. With a bang, it cracked into a thousand splinters that exploded out into the street. Crouching, he stepped out into the cold night air; Mother dragged me behind her and Brother Dezent and Sister Gutig followed us out of our home.

I didn’t realise then that it would be the last time I would leave our home. I would like to have taken one last look at the armchair, which used to be orange, that my mother had sat in every night knitting some friend or neighbour a jumper or a pair of gloves or a scarf. I would like to have taken one last look at the wonky ceiling, which had turned black from all the smoke that had gathered there. I would like to have taken one last look at the chair that I used to sit in - the chair which only had three legs, so the other leg was always propped up on a pile of books.

I would like to have stayed in our home.

But - as I said – I didn’t realise then that we were leaving our home for the last time so I let myself be half-led half-dragged after my mother through the shouting and the bangs and the explosions of spells.

Once, I thought we were done for. We stepped round a corner, straight into the path of two elves dressed all in white and gold. But before they had a chance to throw a spell at us, their attention was caught by a gang of goblins across the street all heaving huge cobblestones from the roads and hurling them at the pair of elves. I thought I saw my friend Tyrann – who lived two doors down from us – but I didn’t stay to look; mother’s hand was dragging me on again.

Finally, we reached the mouth of the mine. I turned, looking around me. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of goblins were creeping into the mine. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who’d had the idea of escaping Ruraux through the mines.

Father Leiter turned and we all gathered close around him. “Listen, we’ve made it to the mines,” His voice was low and urgent. “But that doesn’t mean we’re safe. Now there’s fighting – they’ll be after all of us.”

“Surely, they won’t follow us down into the mines.” Brother Dezent spoke – his voice had a faint pleading note to it. “They fear the mines,” he paused, then added in a desperate voice, “don’t they?”

“They do,” Sister Gutig said quietly. “But their Shlangunds don’t.”

“Gutig’s right,” said Father Leiter, raising a hand to silence the pair. “And even if she isn’t, it’s better to be prepared for what may happen than to hope for something that may not. Scheren” He turned to look at mother, “If they come, I’ll hold them off. You and that one.” He nodded at me. “You keep going. No matter what, you understand. You keep going. You get to Nirvaasan and you find Lehre.”

Lehre. We were going to see my father. Remembering this, I smiled. I was going to see him again. My smile grew wider and I felt my mother’s arm fall around me and pull me close to her.

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TGC 01 In which elves come to Ruraux

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 09:09:21 GMT

I was eating a bowl of mashed potato when my life changed forever. I can remember how it was ever so slightly saltier than I was used to. As I spooned another scoop into my mouth, there was an urgent knocking at the kitchen door. It was so loud that I almost fell off my rickety old chair with only three legs – the fourth being a makeshift pile of books. I looked nervously to my mother. She must have seen the fear in my eyes for she spoke to me as she crossed the room to the door.

“Don’t worry darling; we’re safe.”

And because she said it, I believed her.

She opened the door and I heard the surprise in her voice, “Oh, hello Father Leiter. I’m sorry – I didn’t know you would be coming.”

Father Leiter was in our house – or at our door at least – I couldn’t believe it. I’d seen him of course, even waved at him as he fished out on his boat once or twice, but never spoken to him and now he was here at our house.

My thoughts were cut short as I heard the urgency in his voice as he spoke, “Scheren, may we come in,” he paused, “we don’t have much time.”

My mother stepped back and a short little goblin – not much taller than I was - stepped through our wonky doorway into our home. Father Leiter seemed surprised to see me. He froze in the doorway, staring at me for a moment.

“Father Leiter,” my mother said, sensing the peculiar paralysis that seemed to have descended upon him, “this is my.”

“Yes,” Father Leiter interrupted her, “Yes of course,” and he stepped onto the cold stone floor of our kitchen and crossed the room to me. To my surprise, Leiter reached out and cupped my cheek in his dry coarse hands. “Child of Lehre; Child of Scheren,” he whispered. “I haven’t seen you since- since-”

“Father,” the voice came from the doorway, where two more goblins stood, “We don’t have time.”

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” It was my mother’s voice – calm but authoritative.

Father Leiter turned away from me. “The elves Scheren, The elves have come to Ruraux. They have come for his device. They will be looking for you. Brother Dezent, Sister Gutig and I have come to escort you to safety. We are taking you to Nirvaasan. We are taking you to Lehre. He is our only hope.”

Lehre. We were going to see my father. After all these years, I would see my father again. In spite of my confusion at all the chaos that surrounded us, I smiled at that. He had been absent from my life for so long - taken by the elves years ago but I was going to see him again. I looked up to my mother and the look on her face caused the smile to vanish from mine.

A single tear rolled down my mother’s cheek as I looked at her. Her voice though was steady as she spoke, “When do we leave?”

“The sooner the better,” it was sister Gutig that spoke now, “The elves are already searching for you.”

As if to reinforce her point, a loud bang shook our home so violently that my three-legged chair collapsed beneath me.

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