Chapter 10: Realizing the Danger

Demio stared at the boy, his eyes filled with awe and worry. "Get inside. Go back home" Demio's said sternly. He wanted to scold the boy for his negligence, but his concern grew bigger. "I'll deal with you later." 

The other guards stepped aside in silence as Demio marched past them, his eyes fixed toward the burning pit. The flames rose, slowly devouring the goblin's body. 

Emil stood longer, watching the goblin he had killed burn. A lot of passersby saw him, how he dragged the goblin by its wrist. Quite a few of them murmured.

"Did that boy really kill that goblin?"

"Yes, I saw him drag the body when he entered the fence."

"That's awesome, I could not have done that at his age."

Some whispers were inaudible, but Emil felt their gazes switch from the goblin to his direction. He let out a big sigh, turning his back from the fire. Then a familiar voice called his name. 

"Lugira!" Conrad shouted. Sprinting his way to Emil, holding a black wood skin. 

Emil squinted his eyes a bit. Conrad gasped for air, "Hey kid," He said, patting Emil's right shoulder. "Here, a Drall Bark." Conrad said, handing him the thick black bark. It looked like a burnt acacia bark. Emil grabbed it from Conrad's grasp, the Drall Bark felt a lot heavier than what it looked like. Emil thought his tired hand was going to be pulled off his shoulders. 

"Thank you," Emil said, his voice weak, low. "You didn't have to." 

"No, it's fine, I just want to help a kid learn, you know." Conrad said, scratching his head while awkwardly smiling. His smile looked somewhat reminiscing from the past. "You did so great today, not even us could take down a goblin when we're your age, let alone kill one." He softly chuckled. "I remember when your father killed his first goblin, we were 17 that time. But you? You're just a 12-year old boy." He paused. "Get some rest kid.." He looked towards the goblin's body.

Emil just stood there. Silently. Smiling at Conrad. He felt a sense of pride hearing Conrad's story. He finally turned his back to all that had happened outside the fence. 

Emil walked home with the Drall Bark tugged tightly between his arm and his chest, the Azure moss slightly glowing in his pocket, and the Fenroot wrapped in a fold of his leather tunic. His steps were heavy, every trail he had made buried deep in the dirt path. The scent of grass dew, and mud clung faintly to his clothes. 

Above him stretched the night sky. The stars shone silently, just like gems scattered across the sky. The two moons hung, it felt out of this place but also felt just right. Their glow bled into each other, casting a dual shadow of Lugira's small body.

"You're just a 12 year-old boy," Conrad's words echoed in his silent mind. 

Emil's fingers gripped the bark tighter. Just twelve. Was he rushing too far? Just because of the familiarity of the note, he almost died. Would I encounter those goblins had I just stuck to the jog? I just got here, yet I followed an untrustworthy letter. I didn't even know why I hurriedly trusted those words. The thought of almost getting killed by a group of goblins ate Emil's mind. 

His thoughts spiraled, twisting with doubt. The method from the book— he followed too hastily. But maybe it only felt familiar because it promised control. Power. 

He stood before the wooden door of Lugira's home. I shouldn't let this boy's body get eaten by my desire. Emil slowly lifted his hand, and knocked. 

The door opened almost instantly, as if it waited for his knock. Zasha was the first to see him. Her brows furrowed at the scene of Lugira's body. She quickly took a step and hugged him tight. 

"Where were you?" She pushed Emil, scanning his body from head to toe. "What happened to you? Where did you get these scratches?"

"Mother..," Emil said softly. "I'm okay. I was just supposed to go for a run, but goblins chased me." He paused. His voice slightly trembled.

Zasha gave him another hug. "You're safe now." She sighed in relief. "Come on in…, wash up. I'll make you something to eat."

Emil stepped inside. The warmth of Lugira's home blended in the air. The aroma of the candle smoke hit his nose, and it instantly calmed him. His feet moved almost on their own, heavy and slow as he passed the hallway. Zasha's footsteps padded behind him for a moment before stopping, letting him go ahead without another word.

He entered Lugira's room, well his room now. The linen sheets on the bed swayed as the wind came in. The gas lamp in the corner of the room sat still. The curtains flowed like water with the breeze. 

He walked to the low wooden desk near the window. Carefully, he laid down the Drall Bark with both hands, then reached into his tunic and set down the bundled Fenroot—its earthy scent quickly filling the air. Lastly, he fished out the Azure Moss from his pocket, its pale glow pulsing softly in the lamplight like a living heartbeat.

The three sat together in silence, the tools of some forgotten ritual. All gathered for a purpose he still wasn't sure he should pursue.

Then quietly, to the dim room, he whispered to himself—

"What am I really trying to do?"

Emil stepped out of the room, his eyes lingering one last time on the table where the herbs rested. He walked quietly down the short hall to the bathing room.

Inside, a wooden bucket sat in the corner filled with cold water, and a bar of soap lay beside it on a small stool. Emil stripped off his dusty tunic, and his muddy trouser. The cold water woke up every inch of his muscle as he poured it all over his body. The fatigue slowly disappeared.

By the time he went out of the bath, his hair damp and clothes fresh, the smell of cooked food filled the room from the kitchen.

The wooden table was set. A simple meal was set, bread that looks soft, yet crumbly, a thickened soup with mushrooms, and a few slices of meat that looked steamed. Lumier sat across from her, bright-eyed but visibly curious, glancing up as Emil entered. Her usual playfulness was muted, replaced by quiet concern.

"Come on," Zasha said. "Sit down and eat."

Emil nodded and took his place. For a few moments, only the sound of utensils and quiet chewing filled the room.

Then, Zasha finally broke the silence. "Tell us what happened."

Lumier looked at Emil as he swallowed a bite from the bread.

"I went for a jog like Father told me to," he said. "But… I got too far. Ended up near the outer fields. That's when I saw them."

"Saw what?" Lumier asked, her voice low.

"Goblins. Three of them. So I ran, as far as I could. They chased me. Luckily the tall grass hid me." He paused. The silence between them became heavier. "But one of them was still there. So I grabbed a thick wood, and smashed its head." 

"Did… did you kill it?" Lumier said, maintaining her low voice, but now more scared.

"I had no choice." Emil dropped the bread onto his plate. Zasha's eyes became teary for a moment, before she wiped it off with a piece of cloth. "I dragged it back to the gate. Father saw it. So did some of the others."

"You were lucky," Zasha finally said, her voice calm but low. "You shouldn't have gone that far."

"I know," Emil replied. "It won't happen again."

They were just finishing up the meal when the front door creaked open.

Zasha turned her head, halfway through standing to clear the table. The scent of the stew still lingered in the air, mixing now with the cooler night breeze that entered through the open door.

Demio stepped inside, his boots stained with dried grass and soot. His silhouette was heavy with something unspoken.

In his hand, he carried the crude wooden bat Emil had used.

The bark was chipped and dark with blood. A few of the crude nails Emil had managed to jam into the end stuck out at odd angles. The weapon looked like it was made in desperation—and it was.

Demio held it up silently, then gently placed it on the wooden counter by the wall, next to a candle. He looked at Emil.

No words yet.

Zasha's eyes flicked from the bat to her husband, then to Emil.

"I thought you might want this back," Demio finally said, his voice steady but quiet.

Emil stood from the table slowly. He looked at the bat, then back at his father.

"I didn't mean to… use it like that," he murmured.

Demio shook his head. "Doesn't matter what you meant. You did what you had to." He stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Emil's shoulder. "You kept your head when it counted. You came back alive. That's more than most can say."

Zasha didn't speak, but her arms crossed over her chest—protective, tense. She stayed back, watching both of them with a quiet storm behind her eyes.

Lumier, small and wide-eyed, just looked between the three, confused but knowing enough to stay silent.

Demio looked over at the bat again. "Next time, though… you don't go out there alone. Not until you're ready."

Emil nodded slowly. "Yes, Father."

The moment lingered, heavy and soft. Then Demio turned to the door again, his work clearly not done for the night.

"Get some rest," he said. "The day's over."