Northern Barrier Range

Mikkin wandered around the pile of Gobelin bodies while he pondered his next move. His plan had worked, he and Jamie were free. They now had a heap of dead bodies to show for it, with the exception of the Gobelin leader.

"Where do you think it went?" Jamie asked, traipsing around the camp as if he might find the Gobelin hiding in the bushes.

"Don't know, lad. Maybe it ran away." If the Gobelin was smart, it was long gone. He doubted that was the case. He cupped his hands and called out. "You there! Gobelin? If you are hiding, come out. We will not harm you; you have my word."

It was risky calling out into the night, but the noise of their fight with the Gobelins had already alerted the forest of their presence. If the Gobelin came forth, he would be true to his word. He waited, but no answer came.

"Well, we had better not let these rabbits go to waste." Jamie held them up.

Mikkin laughed as some of the tension fled his nerves. "We had better not!" He paused and glanced about. "Let's first move those reeking bodies, reclaim our arrows, and arm ourselves. I do not like the idea of an unaccounted for Gobelin lurking. We can take watches. I will take the first tonight. You may take the second."

They got right to work, and stinking work it was. Unpleasant did not encompass the entirety of the disgusting task. The bodies reeked of garbage, rot, and dead fish. It was a miserable chore to remove the arrows and clean the guts from them. When they finished, they too smelled of death.

"Gods!" Mikkin cursed. "If it was not so dark, I would go to the creek for a bath."

Jamie heartily agreed. They set about skinning and skewering the rabbits. After the task was done, Mikkin tried once more to tempt the Gobelin out of hiding; he kept his voice lower this time. If the Gobelin lingered in the area, then it would hear his call. Part of him had a tingling feeling that the creature was watching them from the darkness. "We will share our food with you," he called into the night. "If you come out, I promise we will not harm you. Surely you are hungry." Still there was no answer, so he shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps it was better this way—more food for the two of them.

They feasted well that night. He took a whole rabbit to himself and gave Jamie one too. They saved the third for breakfast. The excitement of the day had generated an insatiable appetite within them. When they finished, they both stretched out and lay back to gaze upon the little bits of stars visible from the forest floor. Together they pointed out as many as they recognized.

There was Elduin, the north star, always visible in the north. Then there was Orym and Elmar, two stars that made up points of a bull's horns named Katar, lord of all the bulls. Katar was one of Elduin's guardians. They also spotted Lhoris, Sylvar, and Gaelira, bright lone souls in the vast night sky.

After a time, Mikkin heard Jamie's snore. He chuckled. Likely the lad had seen enough bloodshed this evening to last him a lifetime. This journey was a good opportunity for Jamie to do some growing up. A young man of nearly twenty should have experiences that shape him. This one had certainly done the trick.

Gods only knew he had experienced his fair share of maturing moments. Memory took him back to his fifteenth name day—the day his father insisted he prove his manhood. He was tasked with going into the mountains alone and bringing back meat fit for feeding his family. At that age, the idea of an independent conquest excited him, but it also scared him. He dared not show his father his fear.

"A smart man fears the right things," his father often said. He knew the forest wasn't one of those things smart men feared, so long as those smart men knew how to behave in a forest. At fifteen, he believed himself to be a smart man. He was even eager to prove it.

"Once you have returned possessing a kill worthy of adulthood, you have my blessing to marry," his father said. "If you come back empty handed, best you not return at all."

Perhaps those brought up in easier circumstances would have considered his father's words harsh. Harsh words were sometimes necessary in life. Harsh words—an even harsher reality. It was what he needed at the time. He knew the tricks of hunting in the forest. His father taught him young, explaining the types of game often found in various regions, and how to kill it. He knew the right berries to eat, and even the right greens, should it be necessary.

Providing was a man's responsibility. Mikkin never saw it any other way because his father raised him that way. "Food for the table will always be our duty," his father often said. "A woman's lot in life is hard enough. You remember that when you take a wife, boy." Many of his father's wise words stuck with him throughout life.

As he sat with his father that day receiving his name day instructions, he understood that this was his one chance to prove himself. Besides, he had no other choice. Mardra, the beautiful red-headed girl he had been seeing, would not want him if he failed.

It was a rough three days in the mountain forests. All he was given was a bow and three arrows. There wasn't room for mistakes. He was determined to pass this daunting test. On the first night he went hungry; he failed to kill the cottontail he had spotted. The second day he succeeded with a small one. Famished, he roasted it and ate it immediately. The animal was hardly a worthy token of manhood; no, he wanted something greater. Before nightfall that day, with a full belly, he spotted a large buck feeding in a clearing. It was as though the gods themselves placed the deer there for his taking. The buck's side was exposed, lining him up for a perfect shot. Fate was in his favor.

With shaking fingers, he nocked an arrow and aimed for the heart, just behind the buck's shoulder. He hoped to send the arrow straight through. When he pulled the string tight and released, the arrow struck true. The buck took off into the forest. He tracked it to its dying place and was with it when it breathed its last.

The following day, he had returned with a mighty trophy that would feed his family for a month. His father and mother had been proud. Mardra had been even prouder.

One year later, after he had built a home worthy of a wife, he married Mardra. He still recalled her gold gown and the way she kissed his lips during their ceremony...

He pushed those memories from his mind. Mardra was so much a part of him that it was nearly impossible to ignore the continuous thoughts of her. He saw her face and the faces of his two sons, Devden and Thomas. Images of them writhing in flames plagued his dreams. Dragon fire was horrific. No one deserved to die in such a way. He shuddered and forced his mind back to the present.

Somewhere out there, a Gobelin lurked. He wished it would come out. He knew it was watching him from the dark depths of the forest, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. In truth, part of the reason he wanted to speak with it was because he thought the little wretch would have useful information.

When a number of hours had passed, his watchful eyes grew heavy. He woke Jamie and instructed him to take the second watch. The lad rubbed his tired eyes and positioned himself next to the fire.

"Keep this sword with you and watch the shadows," Mikkin advised. "Do not hesitate to wake me, even if you have the slightest gut feeling that danger lurks. Otherwise, rouse me at dawn."

The lad nodded.

Mikkin hardly trusted him, but he badly needed a few hours of rest. He positioned himself comfortably next to the fire then looked at Jamie one last time. "If I catch you sleeping, lad, I will skin you alive," he added. Then he drifted off to sleep.

Jamie woke Mikkin just as the sky was turning pink.

Mikkin's stomach grumbled. A night of fighting off Gobelins had taken its toll. He certainly wasn't as young as he once was.

"In my eyes, you grow more handsome with age." Mardra's words came floating back to him. She was there in the sunrise, in the oranges and reds. He picked out the perfect hue to match her hair. His chest tightened.

"I gathered some wood and got the fire going again."

Jamie's words brought Mikkin back to the present. "There's a good lad," he said, looking at Jamie. "Thank you." To fight off the morning chill, he held his hands over the fire for warmth. Summer was nearly over; each morning the air grew colder.

"How did your first watch go?"

"It went well...I think. It was hard to keep my eyes open, but I managed."

"It'll get easier. I find that a little movement and a stretch of the legs often wakes the body."

Jamie nodded before layering more wood onto the flames.

"I want to get an early start today. We have a lot of ground to make up for."

"I can be ready shortly," Jamie said, and set about packing his things.

They ate their breakfast hurriedly and set off back the way they'd come the previous day. They carried their reclaimed packs, along with all the Gobelin's weapons. Everything of value was removed from the camp. It was not wise for the lurking leader to raid the camp after they departed. As a result, their load was burdensome, but the precaution was unavoidable.

Cursed Gobelins! A whole day the little beasts had cost him. He could feel his anger rising as they covered the same ground for a third time.

They had been walking for quite a while, when out of nowhere, Jamie stopped and said, "Did you hear that?"

Mikkin looked around before asking, "What did you hear?"

"I swear I heard something—someone following us." The lad glanced over his shoulder, a look of paranoia upon his face. "I think it's the leader."

Mikkin studied their surroundings but saw nothing, so they continued onward without interruption. He paid careful attention to the forest sounds as they moved. Though he was probably imagining it, it did seem like they were being followed. However, each time he looked over his shoulder, the forest appeared as it ought. They were both overly paranoid—this was no way to travel.

By midday they were exhausted. They needed baths, too, so they took a break next to the creek they followed. They had traveled along it for some time. It was hardly deep enough for washing, but the water would work well to remove some of their stink.

"You may go first, I will keep watch," Mikkin said to Jamie, who gladly stripped and followed his orders. While the lad bathed, he examined the forest around them. He always kept his ears open for any odd sounds and he heard plenty of them: the occasional snapping of a stick or crunch of leaves. Perhaps it was only his imagination.

When it was his turn, Jamie took watch. The creek was glorious. He felt refreshed once he washed his stink away.

"I have an idea," Jamie told him as he climbed out.

"Go on...?"

Jamie leaned in close and began to whisper a plan. "We should pretend that we are not paying attention. Let the Gobelin think we are unaware of him, or that we have grown lazy in our watch. See if it comes to us."

He stroked his beard as he considered the idea; it might work. There were two of them and only one Gobelin, though it was highly unlikely that the Gobelin would fall for it.

"Or," Jamie began again, keeping his voice low, "what if we put out some food for it? Tempt it?"

"I think you are mistaking it for an animal," he told the lad, chuckling. Jamie shrugged and turned away. He did not mean to discourage him, so he quickly saved the situation. "We can try it, certainly, though we haven't any food. I suppose it is time to look for more rabbits."

They managed to hunt several that afternoon; it slowed them down. That night they ate well and decided to hang the remaining cottontails on a line. Normally he kept the food near him beside the fire, but as per Jamie's suggestion, he decided to suspend it.

When it was time for sleep, he kept his bow next to him in case the Gobelin decided to show itself. Then they both pretended to be asleep. After some time, Jamie actually began to snore, but he remained on guard.

As he lay there, he almost laughed at the lad's silly idea. A good deal of time had passed, and the moon was halfway across the sky. If the Gobelin had wanted their food, it would have come.

A snapping twig silenced the forest. It wasn't loud, but it was audible enough. He cracked open his eyes and squinted at the line with the dangling rabbits. Again, he heard a noise—leaves crunching—this time closer.

His fingertips were already touching the bow, but he dared not grab it. Not yet.

Several minutes passed. He almost feared his imagination had run wild until the little wretch emerged. It crawled from the forest foliage, glancing about with caution.

"Well I'll be..." he muttered. Jamie's cool intellect had come in handy after all! They had created the perfect Gobelin trap.

The line was just out of reach for the little beasty, which was surely frustrating. Mikkin had insisted that they hang it at eye level. Given that the creatures stood chest high and had short arms. The poor thing was trying mighty hard to reach the ties.

At that moment he snapped up the bow, nocked an arrow, and shouted, "Do not move!"

The Gobelin spun around and gave a little yelp.

"If you do, I will stick you with this arrow, right between your eyes."

"No!" it pleaded. "You promise! You promise no harm!"

"That is correct," he said. "I will not harm you if you stay still. One move and you will be dead."

"No dead!" the Gobelin whined, wringing its hands together. "No dead!"

"Fine, then you must agree not to run," he warned. "Do you agree?"

"Agrees!" it howled. "I agrees!"

He looked at Jamie, who was now standing beside him. "Get the rope, lad."

Jamie did as he was instructed, saying to the Gobelin, "Not so tough now, huh?" The Gobelin sunk to its knees, defeated. They had won.

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐