"Wait, hold on. What did I do?"

  Arden was trying and failing at hiding his grin. The old scholar gestured for me to take a seat and steepled his hands in front of his mouth. Leaning forward, he regarded me with intense amusement. "By the heavens, child. Do you truly know so little about goblin customs?"

  "I mean, should I know about them? I've been here, like, barely over a year, and besides her, I haven't seen another goblin."

  "We covered an entire treatise on goblin culture last year. We went into great detail on their social hierarchies and customs."

  "We did?" I asked, confused. It rang a bell, but just barely. Everything from those early days seemed jumbled together.

  "Yes, Alex. We did."

  I wiped my face with my hands. "Okay, that's on me then. But go over it again. What exactly did I do?"

  The old man sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk in front of him. "Female goblins are naturally stronger than their male counterparts. As a consequence, they're the ones who choose their mates. It is customary that, when a goblin has chosen a prospective mate, she will attack him. If he dies, then he was unworthy of her affections. However, if he survives the assault and extends his hand to her, and she takes it, then they are bonded."

  My mind reeled. "So the first time we fought, when she spared me?"

  "We can assume she didn't consider you a threat. However, I would wager that she liked something about you and spared you to see if you'd grow strong enough to catch her eye."

  "And the second time we fought, when I beat her..."

  "She slapped your hand away, correct?"

  "Yeah."

  "Then she must have found your display unsatisfactory. That was her rejecting you."

  "I only beat her because of Farvad's potions. Could that be why?"

  "You'd have to ask her, but it's likely. Then what happened?"

  "She rescued me when I faced off against her old crew."

  "Were you alone when she saved you?"

  "Yeah."

  "Then we can assume she was observing you to see your worth. I'd wager she wanted to confirm whether your strength was yours and not the result of potions or magic. Whatever you did in that fight, you proved yourself worthy of her attentions. What next?"

  "I saved her life in the forest."

  "Anyone would fall for that. Then what?"

  "Since we arrived here, we've been training nonstop for months."

  "The customary method for evaluating mates in goblin culture."

  "Then, I finally beat her in the yard."

  "And?"

  "And I extended my hand to her."

  "You extended your hand to her. Telling her you accepted her affections and thus becoming her mate. At least in her eyes."

  "That wasn't what I intended!"

  "The intention is irrelevant."

  "But!"

  "Alex. Since you've known her, you've spared her life, fought at her side, saved her, defeated her, and offered her your hand. By every custom of her people, you've been courting for months. You've merely sealed the deal today." With finality, he steepled his fingers on the table.

  "I... This is a lot."

  "To be fair, you could have avoided all of this if you'd paid attention to my lessons."

  I laughed. He was right. "And what if I try to let her down easy?"

  "Goblins don't do breakups." His words were spoken with both utter confidence and pure finality.

  I shuddered.

  Standing up, I paced around his room. The walls were lined with books on ancient texts. Most of them were written in languages I couldn't read. Unfortunately, I'd only managed to learn the common tongue. "What about Tristan?"

  "What about Tristan?"

  "I mean, I'm kind of starting a thing with her."

  "Everyone in the temple is aware."

  Oof. "Aren't there rules or something about this?"

  "This isn't Earth."

  "Which means?"

  "Which means love who you love."

  "So you don't think I'm in trouble?"

  "It's hard to say, but knowing Tristan, I doubt it. She's clearly in love with you, and she and Vral are very close."

  His words echoed in my mind. Love? Did she really love me? Not that I was resistant to the idea. I adored her. But... damn. "What should I do?"

  "Just talk to them, Alex."

  "I mean, how do you even..."

  "You use your words."

  "That's easy for you to say, old man."

  It was his turn to laugh. "It is admittedly easier said than done, my young pupil. If you want my opinion, however, I think it's better to be honest with them than risk having the issue fester." He was right, as usual. I had to be a big boy. I had to talk it through. With all the energy of a deflated ballon, I plopped back into the chair. "What a mess."

  "It's only a mess if you let it be."

  "What do you mean?"

  He ran his fingers through his long silver hair. "I'm not nearly as devout as the natives here, but even I have seen how the Goddess's will works. Sometimes, you just have to go with things here." He lowered his hands back into that perfect steeple he always did. "Also, I've lived many long years, and I have learned many lessons, but perhaps none so poignant as this: love is scarce. Do not make the mistake of squandering it."

  "You don't think I'm being selfish?" For the first time in a long time, Devon came to mind. She told me to like myself. Only then would I find my way. She was right. And she cared about me, but I'd been so bitter and resistant to anything good in my life back on Earth that I never gave her a real shot. It was my only real regret from Earth.

  "Not in the slightest. You're being thoughtful. You care, and you don't want to hurt anyone, including yourself. That's wisdom, not selfishness." He stood and walked over to his teapot and began brewing some tea.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "Alright then. I'm going to go talk to them." I stood up and made for the door.

  "Not now. Stay and drink some tea with me. There's no rush, and I've missed your company. Besides, the priestesses all headed to the baths a little while ago, and Vral's been bathing with them. Give them time to finish up before you disturb them."

  Made sense. Before I could reply, I had warm tea in my hands and an hour of peace to figure out exactly what I needed to do next.

  ***

  Once I finished up with Arden, I left the scriptorium and made my way to the east wing, where most of the priests and priestesses lived. However, the second I entered the main hall, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

  "Alex!" Farvad hobbled up beside me. His cane clicked on the tiles rhythmically as he walked. Ever since our march through the forest, he'd taken up the habit of using a cane. He claimed he needed it now, but I was pretty confident he just liked how it looked. He didn't seem to put any weight into it as he walked.

  "Farvad, how's the recovery going?"

  "Well enough, my boy, well enough. It has been rather peaceful since our journey, and I can't complain. I'm happy to rest these weary bones," he said, adjusting his large brimmed hat, another thing he'd taken to wearing since we arrived.

  "I'm glad."

  "Thank you," the gnome said earnestly. "But I'm not here to talk about pleasantries, my boy. Come with me."

  "I'm actually busy right n—"

  The old alchemist grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the large double doors. A moment later, we were marching into the courtyard.

  "Alright." I guess I could make the time.

  Within minutes, we were back outside, heading away from the temple and toward the old outer building the priests renovated for him for use as a workshop. Renard and Varga had made the decision to house him outside of the temple for fear that he'd accidentally blow up part of the structure. Considering he'd started a fire a few weeks before, their wisdom was as evident as ever.

  As we marched across the green, the old gnome sparked up a conversation. "So, my boy. Have you decided on your next move? I doubt you'll be staying in this temple much longer, what with a world of adventure waiting out there for you."

  I'd been considering our next move, but I didn't have the answers. Having a cult hunt you down made you reconsider things. "I don't know right now. I'd like to head back out there, but things are a little weird at the moment. It's probably best for us to stay at the temple a bit longer."

  "Aye, that's true. Can't be going out with that blasted Cult hunting ya. Nasty lot. Not to be trifled with, those cultists. Unless, of course, you know how to fight 'em. And to fight 'em, you need to know what they're after." He opened the door of his workshop. A burst of stale, astringent air struck me in the face. A cough forced its way out of me.

  "What the hell have you been doing in here?" I covered my mouth and tried not to breathe too deep.

  "The good work, lad." He tapped my arm and led me deeper inside. With a clap of his hands, stones set into the stone walls flared to life, revealing the shop.

  Plants of every shape and kind covered the walls, and the several long tables set along the walls were covered with alchemical devices of all kinds. Flasks, bubbling brews, and beakers littered the space, each seeming to hold liquids and powders of different kinds. At the end of the room stood a cabinet taller than I was, its myriad drawers practically overflowing with ingredients.

  "What is all this?"

  "It's my work, boy. Now come, observe." Farvad walked up to to one of the desks and sat down on a stool. In front of him was a bubbling concoction of some kind in a large oblong beaker with a tube sticking out the top. Next to it was a small cage, and inside that cage was a little mouse.

  Walking up to Farvad, I couldn't help but feel like the mouse was pleading with me to let it go. It's little black eyes were gazing into my soul. While I wasn't any PETA member or anything, this was giving me some serious makeup on chimpanzees vibes.

  "So what do you know about duskfang root?" The gnome put on thick leather gloves as he spoke. There was a striped root on the table in front of him.

  "Absolutely nothing. I'm not from here, remember?"

  "Ah, right. Sorry. The memory's getting better, but it's still not great." He grabbed a pair of tongs and moved the root. "Duskfang root is a plant that grows deep in caves. It's nearly always found where glowstone is mined. It's very rarely used in alchemy due to its high toxicity. However, it has one peculiar effect."

  "Which is?"

  "It's an exceptional ingredient for polymorphic potions."

  "Which means?"

  "Watch." Farvad plucked hair from his head and placed it in a vial. Cutting away a small sliver of root, he used the tongs to add it to the vial. Then, he scooped up a bit of white powder from a nearby ramakin and poured some of the bubbling liquid into the vial. Stoppering the concoction, he gave it a few shakes. The liquid began to glow.

  Reaching into the cage, the gnome carefully snatched the small mouse in his fingers and opened the vial with the other hand. He tipped the mouse's head back and poured a drop of the liquid onto its tongue. Before I could say anything, he placed the mouse back into the cage.

  "What's going to happen?"

  "Watch."

  For a few moments, the mouse simply groomed itself as if nothing had happened. However, all at once, the little animal's nose began to twitch. It's eyes began to bulge, and its fur grew. Its muscles twitched and spasmed as it grew in size. It squeaked as it grew two, three times bigger until it was the size of a rabbit. Its fur changed color, becoming nearly identical in color to Farvad's, and instead of a rat face looking up at us, the rabbit-sized mouse was looking up at us with a ratty-looking gnome face.

  "What the shit, Farvad? That thing is hideous!"

  "I wouldn't say so. He's kind of cute." Farvad opened the cage and reached for the creature. It lowered its head and let the man pet its neck. Closing the lid again, the man watched the little creature as it groomed itself.

  "This is just too weird, old man."

  "This is alchemy, my dear boy. Weird is the norm. Plus, it's not permanent. This potion is just a prototype. It only lasts about five minutes." The gnome rat cocked its head as he spoke.

  Did it understand him??

  "Okay, so talk to me. Why does this matter? Or are you just doing show and tell?"

  "Show and tell?"

  "A children's game back on Earth. Kids bring their things to class and show them off to their classmates. Never mind."

  "Ah! A conference. You start children on the path of knowlege young on your home world! What forward-thinking ways your people have adopted."

  "Sure. What's the potion for?"

  The mouse started twitching. Its nose elongated, and its fur started falling out, replaced by greying hair that looked suspiciously similar to Farvard's. The gnome closed the lid to the cage and lost himself in his ingredients. "At first, I thought I found a true believer. A wise benefactor who understood the importance of my work and merely wanted to fund my experiments. That wasn't the case. Rather, I was tricked Baelgrim into making these infernal potions. Not only did they use them for terrible things, but they cost me my mind as well." The gnome slumped on his stool.

  "Baelgrim?"

  "He's one of the city councilors in Galden. Has money and connections. It was hard to turn him down. Later, I found out that he's a member of the Cult of the Fallen. He hired me to make him potions with rare ingredients. Of course, I said yes. But when I found out what they wished to do with them, I discontinued my research. That's when the goblin lass was hired through Grenden to shake me down. They assumed I'd give in if they put the screws to me long enough. They were probably right, too."

  "But we came along and messed their plans up.. Why didn't you tell us about the polymorph potions then?"

  "I wasn't exactly in my right mind when we met." He rubbed his head. "Still not right, really. But the priests have been a blessing, and I'm grateful you got me here, lad. Sorry for all the trouble I caused." He pulled off his hat and set it aside. I noticed for the first time he had bald patches on his scalp.

  "Why would Baelgrim go to such lengths to get your formulas? And why didn't he kill you?"

  "Because I'm one of only a handful of people who knows how to handle the stuff, and fewer still know how to process it. He couldn't risk it."

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead. The workshop was suffocating. "And what would he use it for?"

  The gnome stood up and retrieved another plant from his cabinet. Returning to his bench, he placed it down. It was a purplish black vine. "Normally, Dark One's Blood is useless. It's a weak poison, sure, but that's about it. However, its real effect is that it is a potent ingredient in curses. Likewise, when added to potions, it makes the effects linger. With some refinement, I believe the effect could be extended exponentially." He placed the vine next to the root. "With these two ingredients, one could polymorph a person indefinitely."

  "What?" I blinked, unable to wrap my brain around what he said. "But that's..."

  "Problematic." Finishing for me, Farvad scratched at a patch of skin that had grown scaly and red. "As you saw, the mouse tripled in size. Imagine doing the same but with the blood of wolves. Bears. Even dragons, though that concoction would be nearly impossible to brew."

  "And you're sure of this?"

  "At first, no. I wasn't. But when they began bringing me pieces of various predators as ingredients for my potions, I understood the intent."

  The thought was chilling, but a small glimmer of hope illuminated my mind. "Could this be used for good?"

  "No."

  "Why?"

  "Two reasons. First, while the effects of a short-term potion like the one I gave the mouse aren't pronounced, long-term exposure ruins the minds of those who ingest these ingredients." He pointed to the mouse. While it had returned to its normal size and shape, one of its legs jittered, and the rodent continuously gnawed on one of its paws. "It's possible the negative effects could be mitigated somewhat, but I'd need years to study it."

  "And the second reason?"

  "The potion imparts the behaviors of the animal being polymorphed into, but through the lens of whatever the base creature's mind. say, a human man was fed one of these potions mixed with wolf fur. He would become as vicious and wild as any rabid wolf. While wolves aren't terribly aggressive, an injured, scared wolf is dangerous. And humans are far more so. Worse still, he would retain some of his human cunning and intelligence, but they'd be buried under the ferocious behavior."

  "So basically, it turns whoever drinks it into a deranged beast."

  "Functionally, yes."

  This was heavy news. "Couldn't they find someone else to figure this out?"

  "I've no doubt they could eventually, but it would take decades to achieve my results. I am quite the alchemist, after all. Unless they've studied with me, another alchemist wouldn't know how to..." His words faded away, and his face dropped.

  I looked at his eyes to see if his mind had faded, but his orbs didn't have that dull look he got when his mind gave out. This was something else. "Farvad?"

  "There is one who might be able to reproduce the potion."

  "Who?"

  He chewed at his lip and wrung his gloved hands. "My little girl. Elna."