by Kumo Kagyu
“Sheesh, what a worrywart. I guess that’s just what you can expect from a priestess.” Warrior’s voice, a bit too bold in the emptiness of the cave, echoed until it disappeared. “Even kids aren’t afraid of goblins. Heck, I helped drive some out of my village once.”
“Oh, stop,” Fighter said. “Killing a few goblins is nothing special. You’re embarrassing yourself. And,” she added in a disagreeable but low voice, “you didn’t even kill them.”
“I didn’t say I did,” Warrior responded with a pout.
Fighter gave an annoyed but somehow affectionate sigh. “They might chop this loser into lunch meat, but I’ll send ’em flying. So don’t worry.”
“Loser? That hurts!” The torchlight shone on Warrior’s dejected face, but the next moment, he was gleefully hoisting his sword. “Hey, the four of us, we could handle a dragon if we had to!”
“My, aren’t we eager?” Wizard muttered, causing Fighter to giggle. The group’s echoing voices mingled in the cavern.
Priestess kept silent, as if afraid talking would attract something from the darkness.
“But I do hope to hunt a dragon someday,” Wizard said. “Don’t you?” Priestess’s wordless smile seemed to agree with Wizard and the nodding Warrior. But the darkness hid an expression as ambiguous as Guild Girl’s.
Do we really? she asked herself, but she dared not voice her doubts, even as the unease built to a storm within her.
“The four of us could…,” he’d said, but how could he so completely trust people he’d hardly known two whole days? Priestess knew these weren’t bad people, but…
“Are you sure we shouldn’t have prepared a little more?” she pressed. “We don’t even have any p-p…potions.”
“We don’t have any money, either. Or time to shop, for that matter,” Warrior answered with bravado, paying no heed to the tremble in Priestess’s voice. “I’m worried about those kidnapped girls… And anyway, if one of us gets hurt, you can just heal us, right?”
“It’s true I have the miracles of healing and light…but…”
“Then we’ll be fine!”
No one could have heard Priestess say thickly, “But I can only use them three times…”
“It’s great you’re so confident and all,” Fighter said, “but are you sure we won’t get lost?”
“It’s one long tunnel. How could we possibly get lost?”
“I don’t know about that. You get so carried away. I can’t take my eyes off you for two seconds!”
“Look who’s talking…”
Fighter and Warrior, who came from the same hometown, slipped into one of the friendly arguments they had shared since the start of the journey.
Priestess, trailing behind them, clung to her staff with both hands and repeated the name of the Earth Mother under her breath.
“Please, see us safely through this…”
She prayed so softly her words didn’t even echo, only dropping into the darkness and disappearing.
Perhaps the Earth Mother heard her prayer, or perhaps Priestess had simply been exceptionally attentive as she said the words.
“Come on, hurry up. Keep up the line,” Wizard chided her.
“Oh, right, sorry…”
It was Priestess who noticed it first.
She was just walking by Wizard, who had overtaken her while she was praying, when she heard it. A scuttling sound, like a rolling pebble.
Priestess gave a start.
“Again? What is it this time?” Wizard asked in annoyance as she once more overtook Priestess, who stood quivering in place.
Wizard had graduated at the top of her class from the academy in the Capital where she had learned her spells, and she was not very fond of priestesses. The skittish little girl in their party had made an abysmal first impression, and since entering the cave, Wizard’s estimation of her had only gotten worse.
“J-just now, I thought I heard something c-crumbling…”
“Where? In front of us?”
“N-no, behind us…”
Oh, please.
This wasn’t caution; it was cowardice. This priestess didn’t have the guts to take her life in her hands the way an adventurer needed to. Warrior and Fighter kept getting farther ahead as she stood there. Caught up in their banter, the two of them never looked back.
An ever more distant light behind them and only deepening darkness before, Wizard heaved a sigh.
“Look. We’ve been going straight as an arrow since we entered this cave, right? What could possibly be behi—” And then her cool, exasperated tone—
“Goblins!!”
—became a scream.
It wasn’t crumbling Priestess had heard, but digging.
Hideous creatures jumped out of a tunnel and flocked toward Wizard, who had the misfortune of being last in line.
Every hand held a crude weapon, every face a repulsive look. These were the child-sized cave dwellers.
Goblins.
“G-g-gggg…”
Suddenly unable to find her voice, Wizard raised the garnet-tipped staff she had received at graduation.
It was a miracle her twisted tongue was able to form the words of the spell.
“Sagitta…inflammarae…radius!” Arrow of flame, emerge!
As she pulled each piece of the spell from where it had been carved deep into her memory, the words began welling up—words with the power to mold reality itself.
A glowing, arrow-shaped Firebolt flew from the fist-sized garnet on her staff and struck a goblin in the face. There was a stomach-turning sizzle and the stench of searing flesh.
That’s one down!
The victory brought a rush of exhilaration that left an incongruous smile on her face. It filled Wizard with the confidence that what worked once would work again.
“Sagitta…inflammarae…radiaaaghhh!!”
But there were many goblins and only four party members. Before she could finish the spell, one of the little foes grabbed her arm. She didn’t even have time to respond before the goblin slammed her to the coarse stone floor.
“Argh! Uh—!”
Her glasses were thrown from her face and shattered on the ground, leaving her vision blurry. A goblin quickly plucked her staff from her hand.
“H-hey! Give that back! That’s not for the likes of y-you!”
A magical conduit such as a staff or a ring was a spell caster’s lifeline, but more than that, it was her pride.
As if in answer to Wizard’s half-mad shout, the goblin held the staff in front of her eyes and broke it with a crack.
Wizard’s face twisted in rage, her mask of detachment gone.
“Why, you—!”
She writhed on the ground, struggling against her captor with her weak arms, her ample chest bouncing. It was not a wise choice. The irritated goblin took his dagger and drove it hard into her stomach.
“Hrrrghh?!” She gave an agonized cry as the blade pierced her innards.
Of course, Wizard’s companions were not idle, not even Priestess.
“H-hey, all of you! Get away from her! Stop—!” She waved her staff about with her delicate arms, trying to chase the goblins away.
There are those clerics who are skilled in the martial arts. Some, having adventured for a long time, might even boast a good deal of physical strength.
Priestess was not one of them.
The way she was frantically swinging her staff, she wouldn’t have hit anything, anyway.
Each time her sounding staff struck a wall or the ground, it made a rattling noise. And for better or for worse, the goblins took a step back.
Perhaps they took her for a warrior priestess, or maybe they were just afraid she might hit one of them through sheer luck.
Whatever the reason, Priestess took advantage of the momentary opening to pull Wizard away from them.
“Be strong!” Priestess shouted, almost shaking Wizard. “Hang on—!”
But there was no answer. Priestess’s hand came away s
oaked with blood.
The rusty blade was still buried in Wizard’s abdomen, the cruel tear revealing her ravaged entrails.
Priestess felt her throat close at the awful sight, her breath coming in a strained squeak.
“Ah…Agh…”
But Wizard was alive. Twitching and convulsing, but alive.
There was still time. There had to be. Priestess bit hard on her lip.
Clasping her staff close to her chest, Priestess placed her hand on Wizard’s spilling viscera as if to push them back into place and recited the words of the miracle.
“O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, lay your revered hand upon this child…”
Magic spells can affect the rational workings of the world, but Minor Heal is genuine divine intervention.
As the prayer took hold, Priestess’s palm began glowing with a soft light that floated over to Wizard. As the light began to bubble away, Wizard’s ruined stomach gradually stitched itself back together.
Of course, the goblins were not the kind to stand by and just let this happen.
“Damn you! You filthy goblins! How dare you do this to everyone!!”
Warrior had finally noticed what was going on behind him and came flying through to cover his companions, cutting off their would-be attackers.
He had thrown away the torch and now gripped his sword firmly in both hands. He gave a thrust, piercing a goblin’s throat.
“GUIA?!”
“Who’s next?”
He wrenched the sword from his first victim, catching a second as he turned. He sliced the goblin clean from shoulder to hip.
Through a geyser of goblin blood, Warrior gave a great shout, drunk with bloodlust.
“Well, what’s wrong?! Come and get me!”
Warrior was the second son of a farmer, and since his youth, he had dreamed of becoming a knight. How one might go about becoming a knight, he did not know, but he was certain strength was a prerequisite. The knights in the bedtime stories he’d heard were always vanquishing monsters, thwarting evil, and saving the world. Here in this cave—striking down these goblins, saving helpless maidens, and protecting his friends—he saw himself a knight at last.
The thought brought a smile to his face.
Power coursed through his hands, his blood pounded in his ears, everything narrowed until he could see only the enemy before him.
“Wait! You can’t handle them alone!”
He was not yet a real knight.
Even as Fighter’s voice reached him, Warrior found one of the goblins’ worn swords buried in his thigh.
“Ngah! Why, you—!”
It was the goblin he had cut across the chest. Warrior’s blood-dulled blade had not been enough to make a killing blow.
Thrown out of his fighting posture, Warrior dealt a second blow to the goblin, and this time it died without so much as a gurgle.
But a moment later, another monster was leaping up behind him…
“Take this!” He made to counter with his sword, but it struck the cave wall with a blunt thud.
It was the last move he would ever make.
The torch he had dropped on the ground sputtered and died, and in the darkness that pressed in suddenly around him, he was amazed how loudly his scream echoed.
With no pedigree and no money, Warrior had been unable to afford a shield or helm; he had only his thin chest plate to protect him. He had no way to save himself from the goblins’ vicious blows.
“No…it can’t be!”
Fighter had failed to reach the enemy in time. As she watched the young man she thought of so fondly die, she went pale and stood stock-still.
It was all she could do to form her two trembling hands into fists and take a fighting stance.
“You two, run.”
“B-but…!” Priestess protested weakly, but she knew it was useless. Despite the ministrations of Minor Heal, Wizard in her arms was barely responsive, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
The horde of goblins was creeping closer, fixed on its remaining prey. They were still cautious of Fighter, but they would be upon her before long.
Priestess looked at Wizard and Fighter, and then she stared in horror at the goblins still abusing the body of the fallen Warrior.
Seeing that her companions still hadn’t moved, Fighter gave a click of her tongue. Then she let out a loud, clear yell, charging into the crowd of monsters.
“Hi-yaaaaah!”
Her fists and feet were limber and quick. Her own father had trained her before he died, and now she showed the very essence of his art.
She would not die here. Her father’s art could not lose to such pitiful foes.
So long as I live, I will never forgive them for killing that boy!
Heart and mind bore out her training as she drove her fist into a goblin’s solar plexus.
She pushed her enemy to the side as he fell vomiting to the floor, then caught him with a single knifehand strike to the neck as she spun.
Critical hit.
The immense blow to the neck left the goblin’s head leaning at an impossible angle as it collapsed.
At the same moment, she stepped into the space left by his body and used the momentum to throw an arcing kick into the air in front of her. Her tightly controlled roundhouse caught two more goblins, killing them before they hit the ground—
“Wha—?!”
But a third goblin easily caught her leg and trapped her ankle.
Fighter’s face paled as he began to squeeze.
Goblins were supposed to be the size of children…weren’t they?
“HUURRRRGH!”
The creature, whose rancid breath washed over her as it strained itself, was giant.
She was not a small girl, and even she had to raise her head to look this enemy in the eye. The pain in her foot grew worse and worse until it wrenched a cry from her lips.
“Ahh…a-arrrrgh…let…me…go-aaah!!”
Fighter’s leg still in his grip, the goblin casually rammed her up against the wall. There was a distant, dry sound of something cracking.
Fighter passed out without so much as a whimper, so she was unaware as the goblin whipped her around and slammed her against the opposite wall.
“Hrr, guhhh…?!”
She came to with a sound that was barely human, her vomit tinged with blood as she was thrown to the ground. Then the rest of the horde fell on her.
“Agh! Urrgh! Ya…yaaah! Ugh!”
The goblins beat Fighter with their clubs, deaf to her cries, until her clothes ripped and fell away with the relentless flailing.
The goblins showed as much mercy to the invading adventurers as the party had intended to show to them.
Racked by her horrific ordeal, Fighter gave a high, piercing scream, but within it, Priestess was sure she could make out words.
“Run! Hurry!”
“I—I’m sorry…!”
Closing her ears to the echoes in the cavern of the goblins violating her companion, Priestess hefted Wizard and began a stumbling retreat.
Run. Run. Run. Trip, then catch yourself, and run even harder.
Through the dark she went, slipping on every stone but never stopping.
“I’m sorry…! I’m…sorry! Please fo…forgive me…!” The words fell out of her in ragged gasps.
There was no light anymore. She knew they were being chased deeper and deeper into the cave, but what could she do?
“Ahh…ah…”
The footsteps of the goblins, drawing nearer with every echo, were what terrified her most.
Stopping now would be foolish, and she couldn’t head back the way she came. Even if she could, she wouldn’t have seen anything for the gloom.
Now she understood the Guild receptionist’s ambiguous expression.
Yes, goblins were weak. Their party of eager adventurers—their Warrior, their Wizard, their Fighter—had known that. Goblins were about as large and smart and strong as a human child. Just as they’d hear
d.
But what happened when children took up weapons, plotted evil, sought to kill, and traveled in packs ten strong?
They hadn’t even considered it.
Their party was weak, inexperienced, unfamiliar with combat, had no money nor luck, and most importantly, they were overwhelmingly outnumbered.
It was a common mistake, the kind you hear about all the time.
“Oh!”
Priestess’s long sleeves finally got tangled up in her legs, and she fell gracelessly to the ground. Her face and hands received liberal scrapes, but much worse, she lost her grip on Wizard.
Priestess rushed to pull her back up—a girl she hadn’t even known a few days before.
“I-I’m sorry! Are you all right?!”
“Ur, hrrg…”
Instead of an answer, blood-flecked spittle bubbled from Wizard’s mouth.
Priestess had been so focused on running that she hadn’t noticed Wizard beginning to tremble violently. It felt as if Wizard’s entire body were on fire, sweat soaking her thick cape.
“Wh-why…?”
Priestess aimed the question directly at herself. Had her prayer not reached the goddess?
Beset by that worry, Priestess used precious time to work off Wizard’s outer garments and check the wound.
But the miracle had worked as intended. Wizard’s abdomen was blood soaked but smooth. The wound was gone.
“U-uh, i-in times like—In times like this, what should I…?”
Her mind was blank.
She knew a bit of emergency first aid. And she could still use her miracles.
But would another healing miracle really help? Was there something else she should try? For that matter, in her wretched state, could she even focus enough to make an effective petition to the goddess?
“Ahh? Aaahh!”
The moment she’d wasted had been the one that counted. Priestess grew faint as a sudden pain overwhelmed her.
She heard a whistle—something running?—and then her left shoulder lit up with a burning pain. She glanced at it and found an arrow buried deep in her flesh. Blood seeped up and stained her vestments.
Priestess was not wearing any armor. The arrow had ripped savagely through her clothes and into the lovely shoulder beneath. The Precepts forbade excessive armor, and she had no money in any case. Now every tiny movement seemed amplified a hundred times and provoked a heat and pain as though she had been stuck with burning tongs.
