Chapter 195 - It's A Prank

Vell and Sonder sat on a moss-covered rock just beyond the edge of the goblin village. The dim dusk light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows over the forest floor. In the distance, the muffled sounds of goblin voices echoed from their huts, fading as the night deepened.

Sonder rolled a small pebble between her fingers. 

"That didn't go very well," she muttered.

"A stubborn king and a dying river," Vell agreed, his gaze fixed on the ground. Silence stretched between them as he absently traced patterns in the dirt with his finger. Then, suddenly, his head snapped up. "Wait. I have an idea."

Sonder watched him as he stood and began pacing. "What sort of idea?"

Vell's eyes narrowed with determination. "We've tried reasoning with him, and he won't budge. But goblins are superstitious—they fear curses and spirits. If words won't work, we might be able to scare him into doing the right thing."

Sonder tilted her head. "Scare him how?"

Vell smirked. "Oh, you'll see."

Night fell, and the goblin village gradually quieted. Without lanterns to light the huts, the settlement was swallowed by darkness, save for the pale glow of the moon and stars above.

Vell and Sonder moved silently through the shadows, their steps careful until they reached the king's hut at the heart of the village.

Peering through a primitive window, they could see the king sleeping soundly on a pile of furs, his scepter resting at his side.

Vell pressed a hand against the rough wooden wall, whispering a spell. Faint arcs of magical energy rippled outward, seeping into the structure. He could feel the goblin king's mind—smug but vulnerable.

"All right," he whispered. "Sonder, listen carefully. Conjure water above him. Hold it there, as much as you can. When I give the signal—drench him."

Sonder frowned. "Drenching a sleeping goblin? That feels a bit mean.""

"It's for a good cause," Vell insisted.

She nodded and extended her hands. The steady sound of flowing water from the nearby river sharpening her focus. With a focused gesture, she summoned a perfect sphere of water, swirling silently above the sleeping king's head, trembling lightly.

Vell closed his eyes and wove the dream deeper, twisting the king's sleep into a nightmare. The air inside the hut thickened with dampness, and an ethereal voice echoed through the king's mind.

"You have defied the river's flow... You have angered the spirit... Release me, or be consumed!"

The king stirred, his face contorting in discomfort. Sweat beaded on his brow as the dream tightened its grip.

Water began to drip onto his face from the sphere above, heightening the nightmare's realism.

"You cannot imprison the river forever... It will reclaim its path!"

Sonder kept the water steady above the king, the massive ball of liquid trembling slightly under her control. She cast a sideways glance at Vell, silently questioning. He nodded once.

The river's face fully formed in the dream, its watery features twisting into a fearsome expression. 

"FREE ME!" the voice roared.

The king jolted awake, eyes wide with terror—just as Sonder released the spell.

A torrent of water poured over him, soaking him to the bone. He coughed for air as he scrambled out of his soaked bed, grabbing his scepter with shaking hands.

He burst from his hut into the silent village, dripping wet, wild-eyed, and gasping for breath.

"The spirit! The spirit of the river!" he bellowed, falling to his knees as the water pooled around him. His scepter clattered from his trembling hands.

The village stirred awake, confused goblins emerging from their huts, staring wide-eyed at their king.

Sonder gave Vell a questioning look. He nodded once more.

Without a word, they melted back into the shadows of the forest, leaving the king to his fear.