Chapter 5 The Goblin Hunt 28/07/908

  The night held its breath. Yonas’ fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles pale in the dim light. His eyes strained against the darkness, searching for the source of the rustling that had shattered the quiet of their camp. Nasir remained still, his breathing even and unhurried, but there was a coiled tension in his posture.

  “Prepare to run,” Nasir’s voice was barely above a whisper, but every syllable struck Yonas like a drumbeat. His mind flashed to the goblin from his dream, the green skin and yellow eyes, the gnashing teeth and the dark forest. His body began to shake, the sword in his hand suddenly feeling like lead.

  “Yonas,” Nasir said, sharper this time. “Breathe. Focus.”

  Yonas swallowed, the air catching in his throat. His knees locked, a cold sweat running down his back. He couldn’t move. His muscles were stone, and his mind a whirlpool of fear.

  The bushes trembled, the rustling growing louder, sharper. Something was coming.

  “Run!” Nasir’s shout snapped the night in two.

  Yonas’ legs obeyed before his mind did. He turned, his feet hammering against the dirt, and dashed into the forest. Branches whipped against his face, and roots clawed at his ankles. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one scraping his lungs raw. Behind him, he heard the clash of steel, the guttural cries of goblins, and Nasir’s voice—a roar against the chaos.

  His foot caught a root, and he crashed to the ground. The impact knocked the air from his chest, his vision swimming with stars. He struggled up, his hands sinking into the damp earth. The sounds of battle seemed farther away now, a distant nightmare.

  Then he saw it.

  A goblin, shorter than him but brimming with malice, peeked from behind a tree. Its skin glistened in the pale light, its yellow eyes wide and wild. A long tongue darted over its cracked lips as if tasting his fear. When its lips peeled back, Yonas glimpsed jagged, stained teeth.

  Yonas’ breath stuttered. His instincts screamed at him to run, to keep running until the world fell away. But he knew, deep down, he couldn’t. The goblin would catch him, and he’d die with its teeth in his throat.

  He ducked behind a tree, forcing his breathing into a shallow rhythm. His hands trembled, his sword slick in his grip. The world narrowed to the rustle of leaves, the soft patter of goblin feet, the wet sound of its tongue licking at the air.

  Yonas pressed himself against the bark, every muscle a wire pulled tight. He closed his eyes, listening. The goblin was close—too close. His pulse throbbed in his ears, a metronome to his terror.

  The goblin lunged.

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  Yonas spun out from behind the tree, his sword slashing in a wide arc. Steel bit into flesh, a spray of dark blood catching the moonlight. The goblin shrieked, a sound that cut through Yonas’ bones. Its clawed hand lashed out, raking across his arm. Hot pain bloomed, but he didn’t falter.

  The creature barrelled into him, knocking them both to the ground. Yonas’ sword slipped from his hand, skittering into the brush. His back hit the dirt, the goblin straddling his chest, its weight pressing down like a boulder. Sharp nails dug into his shoulders, pinning him in place.

  Its jaws opened wide, strings of saliva stretching between its fangs. Yonas thrust his arm up, and the goblin bit down, its teeth sinking into his forearm. Agony exploded through him, a red-hot lance of pain. His vision wavered, darkness seeping into the edges.

  But something snapped inside him—a raw, desperate will to survive.

  With his free hand, Yonas reached up and jammed his thumb into the goblin’s eye. The soft orb burst under the pressure, viscous fluid oozing over his hand. The goblin screamed, a high, keening wail. It thrashed, but Yonas didn’t stop. His fingers curled into its empty socket, pushing deeper, until he could feel the wet, pulsing mass of its other eye from the inside.

  He yanked.

  The goblin convulsed, its body seizing as its sight was torn away. Yonas felt warmth against his skin, the creature’s blood soaking into his clothes. Its bite loosened, and he tore his arm free, the wound ragged and bleeding.

  He scrambled to his knees, the world a blur of pain and adrenaline. His hand found his sword, the metal cold and grounding. The goblin lay on its side, twitching, its hands clawing at the empty hollows of its face.

  Yonas rose, his legs trembling but holding. He took a step forward, then another. The goblin gurgled, a pitiful, wet sound. It reached out, its fingers brushing his boot.

  He drove the blade into the eye socket, the steel piercing through to the goblin’s brain. The creature went still.

  The silence that followed was absolute. Yonas stared at the corpse, his chest heaving. His blood dripped onto the leaves, each drop a drumbeat in the quiet. His vision tunnelled, the edges turning grey. His body slumped, and he collapsed against a tree, the bark rough against his back.

  The world dimmed, and he slipped into darkness.

  When Yonas opened his eyes again, it was to the dim glow of a fire and the sharp, metallic taste of blood on his tongue. His arm throbbed, the pain a dull, steady rhythm. He tried to move, but a weight held him down.

  “Stay still.”

  Nasir’s voice. Low, tired. Yonas turned his head, the world swimming. His uncle knelt beside him, one hand pressed against his broken arm. Soft wisps of light flowed from Nasir’s palm, seeping into Yonas’ skin. The pain ebbed slightly, a cool relief against the burn.

  “What... happened?” Yonas’ voice was a rasp.

  “You survived.” Nasir’s face was a mask of exhaustion, his eyes shadowed. “Thirty goblins, Yonas. They came out of nowhere. You... you killed one.”

  Memories crashed over him—the goblin’s teeth in his arm, its eyes under his fingers, the blade sinking into its skull. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat.

  “I couldn’t... I didn’t run far enough.”

  Nasir’s hand moved to Yonas’ forehead, the touch gentle. “You did well. You did what you had to.”

  The warmth of the healing faded, and Nasir sat back, his breathing uneven. “Your arm’s not fully healed. I’ve used too much energy. We’ll need to wait until I recover to fix it properly.”

  Yonas nodded, the motion weak. His eyelids drooped, the pull of sleep irresistible. “Are... are you okay?”

  Nasir managed a small smile, the first hint of warmth since the attack. “I am. You’re stronger than you think, Yonas. And braver.”

  Darkness tugged at him, and Yonas let it take him. The last thing he felt was Nasir’s hand, steady and reassuring, resting on his shoulder.