Chapter 212: Orphan Goblins (Patreon)

Ismene sat on her large burgundy pillow at the edge of the Frost Pool Chamber and watched as her student practiced his torrent spells.

Stryg channeled the blue mana from his heart and into his arms. Tendrils of water rose from under the grate flooring and flicked out with quick lashes.

“Release,” Ismene ordered.

Stryg released the spell with a simple thought. He relaxed his muscles and took a deep breath. The excess heat created by the spells was little, he barely felt the warmth rising within his muscles.

Ismene watched him with a thoughtful eye.

He’s improved. Again, she thought. It’s only been a week and there’s already a noticeable increase in his speed of casting and the force behind his spells.

“Master?” Stryg asked. “Should I cast another water whip?”

“...No, let’s take a ten minute break.”

“I’m not even close to overheating, I can keep going.”

“I believe you, but taking a break isn’t always about giving your body respite, your mind needs to rest too.” She patted the pillow next to her, “Come, warm yourself up with some tea.”

Stryg walked over with reluctance and sat down on the large pillow. His body sank into the pillow, his weight flattening the feathers inside. Ismene hid her small smile and served him a steaming cup of tea.

The hot drink didn’t bother his tongue, but he drank the tea with slow sips anyway. Ismene had told him on several occasions that simply because something could be done quickly did not mean it should.

Stryg glanced at the old woman, she sat hunched over, a cane rested next to her. Most people would never guess this was the renowned Tempest Arch-Mage, Ismene was usually so calm and serene, but there was great power hidden behind those peaceful beige eyes.

Stryg cleared his throat, “Um, Master?”

“Hm?”

“...How is Nora? I mean, is she… alright?” Stryg asked quietly.

“Nora?” Ismene put her cup of tea aside.

“You’re her personal master, right? Have you seen her? I mean, the school year started two months ago, but she hasn’t come to any classes. Is she okay?”

“Nora’s mage studies are improving just fine, I’ve made sure of that. You have no need to worry about that.”

“Oh, right… that’s good,” Stryg sipped his tea.

Ismene smiled sympathetically, “She’s doing okay. Most days she has morning sickness, but either than that she’s hanging in there. Her mother has come to Hollow Shade to stay with her at their manor these next few months.”

“Family? That’s good,” Stryg smiled weakly. “I’m glad she’s okay.”

“So am I,” she grabbed her cup of tea. “Now, about your training. You’re relying too much on emotions, instead of keeping calm and collected while casting.”

“I’m not relying solely on anger like before.”

“It doesn’t matter. Emotions are volatile, they can change, and the last thing you want when casting a spell is for it to change and fizzle, or worse, backfire.”

Stryg shrugged, “My emotions help me remember why I’m here, why I’m doing all of this. They remind me of my goals, my purpose.” He clenched his hands tight, “And that conviction helps me cast any spell.”

“That may be the case, but that sort of spell-casting isn’t healthy for your mental state, Stryg.”

“I don’t care,” he said resolutely. “I’m too weak as it is. I need power, real power, and I’ll do whatever it takes to achieve that… I won’t lose anyone else.”

Ismene reached out and grabbed his hand gently, “I understand you’re hurting, believe me I do. I know what it’s like to be unable to protect the ones close to you, no matter how hard you try. But this, what you’re doing now? This isn’t healthy, and it certainly isn’t how one obtains true power.”

“I disagree,” Stryg pulled his hand away and stood up. “I’ve been training hard these past few months, harder than ever. And I can do things now that I never could before.”

“Even still, that doesn’t mea-”

“I can even reliably multicast two spells at once!” Stryg raised his hands.

A stream of water rose from the pool beneath the grate flooring and curled around his hand, while an orb of orange fire blazed to life above his other hand.

“How many magi my age can multicast?”

“Stryg, that isn’t the point.”

“Two! Only two! Kitty was a natural, but I had to learn this on my own. If this isn’t power, then what is?”

Ismene shook her head, “You will never learn blue’s storm spells like this. Storm magic is all about control and right now you are letting your emotions control you.”

“I don’t need storm magic. There are other sources of power, I have plenty of other chromatic colors.”

It was at that moment Ismene wondered to herself if she should end her lessons with Stryg. She began training him because she saw the potential for a mage who could do so much good for the Realm inside him. That potential seemed gone now, robbed by death and a war the young generation had never asked for.

If I reject him now, what will become of him in the future? Ismene thought bitterly.

Stryg released his dual spells and stared at his hands, “I’m not improving fast enough, I’m still not strong enough. I need more power. What would you do in my position?”

“...The power you seek may do more harm than good,” she warned.

“Possibly. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Ismene sighed, “I must be a fool.”

“Huh?”

For taking a risk on you. Ismene waved him away, “Break’s over. Get back to training.”

Stryg nodded and began casting a torrent spell.

Ismene watched him with a thoughtful eye.

~~~

The noon sun was shining high in the sky, its warmth was tempered by the chilly winds that blew through the Commoner District. Mel rested his back on the alley wall and watched the other orphans play with small wooden toys on the street.

Priestess Karen from the temple had bought the orphan children the toys last week and the children had been captivated ever since. Each goblin child had been gifted a toy, along with several sets of new clothing and a place to stay at night in the temple, along with three meals a day.

Such generosity was very unusual, most temples in the Commoner District didn’t have enough money to spend on orphans, especially goblin orphans. But the temple on the southside of the district, near the Merry Crescent, was different. It seemed that an anonymous benefactor had donated a large sum of money to the temple, on the condition that money would only be used to help support the goblin children of the area, including the orphans such as Mel and his friends.

While the anonymous benefactor had never revealed themselves, the children had already guessed who it was. The mysterious mage, Stryg of Ebon Hollow. Mel still remembered the first time he had seen him, almost as if it was yesterday.

They had been at the temple. Mel had tried to defend Karen’s little sister, Sophi, from a mean human woman. Unfortunately, she was much stronger than him. Mel had seen the rage in the woman’s eyes and had feared for his life.

That was when he had appeared, the mage, the blue goblin, his hero, Stryg. He protected them and defeated the human with ease. Mel had been amazed, he had never seen a goblin mage before, he didn’t think it was even possible. Then Stryg did something no one had ever done before, he showed the orphans a future beyond the slum life, beyond the ridicule and shame that Mel had always known.

Stryg had taught them about the first Great City, Lunis, the Sapphire of the East. Nothing was the same after that. Mel learned what it meant to be a goblin, that it was not something to be ashamed of, despite what so many had told him.

Stryg had visited the temple every week after that and all the children were always eager to see him and listen to his stories. Mel was 16, almost 17 now, he was no longer a child, but he found himself disheartened all the same when Stryg began visiting the temple less and less.

Still, Stryg continued to donate money to the temple for them, and for that, Mel was ever grateful.

“Oi! You brats, get off the street! You're blocking business!”

Mel glanced at the owner of the voice, a young man with grey skin and hair, a drow. But what really caught Mel’s attention was the tattoo on his neck, a swirling orange snake.

The Rat Snake gang, Mel thought. Odd, the drow gang usually didn’t operate in this part of the district.

The younger orphans glanced at the gangster, then looked up at Mel. Fear was clear in the children’s eyes.

Mel pushed off the alley wall and stepped in between the children and the drow, “This is a residential area. There aren’t any businesses over here and the street is practically empty.”

“Looks like we got a smart one over here?” the drow grinned maliciously.

We? Mel frowned.

Three more men walked out from behind the corner, each bearing the Rat Snake tattoo on their necks. One of them stepped forward and pulled out a long knife.

“Maybe we should teach this smartass a lesson, ey?”

The first drow shook his head, “Now, now. It’s not his fault, he doesn’t understand.” He pointed his finger at Mel, “I’ll be brief, our gang, the Rat Snakes are taking over this territory starting today. Best if those kids leave before they see something that’ll give ‘em nightmares for the rest of their short lives.”

Mel swallowed, he kept his eyes on the gangsters, and spoke to the other orphans behind him, “Everyone, it’s time to leave. Grab your toys and move, quickly.”

The drow raised his finger, “Oh, not you, smartass. You stay. We’re new here, we gotta make an example out of one of you at least. We don’t people thinking we’ve gone soft now, would we?”

“Mel!” one of the smaller children cried out.

“I’ll be fine! Just go, now,” he said shakily.

“Atta, boy, you really are smart,” the drow chuckled.

“Hey, Mel, who are these guys?”

The gangsters slowly turned around. A young human stood in front of them, an easy-going smile plastered over his face.

“Witt?” Mel frowned.

“I came to help,” Witt grinned.

“Eh, no thanks,” Mel said flatly.

“What?” Witt furrowed his brow.

“And who might you be?” one of the drow asked.

“Someone who is in love,” Witt pulled out a short dagger. “And the love of my life will get very angry if any of those kids were to ever get hurt. So if you’re looking for a fight, then fight me!”

The gangsters looked at each other and shrugged, “Alright.”

They all pulled out their daggers and advanced on Witt.

Witt’s face paled, “Wait a sec. You’re all going to fight me at once? Where’s the honor in that?!”

The first drow winked, “Don’t worry, we’ll make this quick, I swear on my whore of a mother. I’ll carve you up right next to that goblin trash.”

“We’re not goblin trash!” The words escaped Mel’s lips before he even realized it.

The gangsters burst into laughter.

Mel held his ground and straightened his back, “I am not trash.”

“Then what the fuck are you, ey? Shit?” the drow sneered.

“I’m, I… I am Mel, a child of Lunis and I’m proud to be a goblin,” Mel’s voice grew stronger and more confident with each word he spoke. “I don’t care what you say. I am a Lunisian. You and your thugs can’t take that from us, no one can.”

“Are all the people in this part of town batshit crazy?” the drow asked.

“I don’t know,” another drow shrugged. “But the boss gave us our orders. Make as many examples as we need.”

“Fair enough,” the drow brandished his dagger.

“What the fuck are you all doing!?” Karen screamed as she ran down the street.

“Oh, thank gods,” Witt sighed in relief.

“And who’s this bitch?” the first drow groaned.

“W-wait, look at her clothes,” another drow backed away. “She’s a priestess.”

“So?”

“The boss says she doesn’t want us messing with the temples. The last thing she wants is to have the gods angry with us,” a third drow chimed in.

“Ugh, fine. Let’s get out of here for now,” the first drow groaned.

Mel watched in stunned silence as the drow gangsters jogged away. Karen reached Witt and him a few moments later.

She slapped Witt on the back with a resounding crack, “You had one job, dammit! And the first thing you do is get into a fight with gangsters!?”

“They were threatening Mel,” Witt winced.

“And so you decided to fight them!?” Karen yelled. “You really are an idiot! Do you have any idea how dangerous they can be?!”

“What was I supposed to do?” Witt mumbled.

“You help Mel run, get some help, or anything besides fight. You are terrible at fighting,” Karen snapped.

“But I’ve been practicing the dagger moves you taught me,” Witt said. “I can handle myself.”

Karen slapped the dagger out of his hand.

Witt blinked, stunned, “Uh, I wasn’t ready?”

“You’re an idiot,” Karen groaned.

“Miss Karen?”

“Yes, Mel?”

“I’m sorry, but what are you both doing here anyway?”

“I sent Witt to invite you all to the temple,” Karen said. “But then I thought about it and realized I couldn’t trust him to wander the streets alone. So I came too and damn I’m glad I did.”

“Are you allowed to say damn?” Witt muttered.

“Shut up,” Karen said.

One of the orphan children ran up to Karen, “Miss Karen? You wanted us to come to the temple? Is Sophi there?”

Karen smiled, “Yes, but so is someone else. Stryg came to visit.”

The children’s eyes widened with happiness.

“Stryg is at the temple?!” Mel asked.

“Yeah, he’s there right now,” Karen nodded.

The children ran off before she had finished speaking.

“Why do they all like that crazy guy?” Witt frowned. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Witt,” Karen said.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

“Oh. Okay… I think I cut my finger when you slapped the dagger out of my hand.”

“Ugh, come on. Let’s get you patched up.”

(AUTHOR'S NOTE:)

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