Open Your Eyes

by Brendon Cook

It’s a Monday, and that goes without saying. This particular Monday morning, I woke up at six-thirty to go to school, got dressed, ate breakfast, put a lunch together, and went outside to wait for the bus. I waited for about an hour when suddenly it hit me. It was the Monday morning newspaper, thrown by that idiot paperboy. I personally don’t like him because he’s a high-school dropout and he always delivers the paper three hours late. I picked it up and read the headline. It said, “First Day of Summer Vacation!!!” I didn’t bother reading any more of it, because it sounded like the kind of news they print when nothing interesting is going to happen that day. I threw it the rest of the way to the porch, and waited. “Ho hum,” I whispered to myself. About fifteen minutes later I just said, “What the heck.” and began walking to school.

You might not have noticed that I’m not the fastest kid on the uptake, but once I memorize something, I can recite it a year later! We did that once in school as a project when everyone had to memorize an important document. I was assigned the Declaration of Independence. I can still do it, want to hear it? “When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve all political bonds which have connected…” Anyway, I get to school, and tried the door. It was locked shut! Then suddenly, it hit me. The paperboy was delivering to the school and hit me in the back of my head. I picked up the paper, and was about to chuck it at him, when I saw the headline again. I stood there for a moment with my eye twitching. Then, I laid the newspaper gently on the school steps, turned around, and walked slowly back to my house. Upon reaching home I went back to my bed and fell asleep.

I was jolted suddenly from my dreams by a loud crash. I leapt up and ran down stairs. There, standing over a pile of broken dishes, was a strange looking creature. It was short, had lumpy green skin, and was wearing a pair of undies on its head. It was my little brother Jonathan. He looked at me with two big eyes. One was green, the other gray. Despite his attempts to use his Bambi eyes on me that always worked so well with our parents, I still shouted at him. “You stupid little troll! You broke mom and dad’s china plates! I’m going to kill you!” After screaming this way for about ten more minutes, I finally collapsed from exhaustion

He walked over to me and grinned in a way that so often reminds me of a goblin. He giggled, “Mommy and Daddy aren’t here anymore!” I looked at him, puzzled. “But… who are you?” I croaked.

“Not your little brother! You didn’t actually think that I was your little brat! He’s been living in the land of Sneer.” Now, at school, we’ve been studying world geography and, let me reassure you, there is no such place as “Sneer”. Naturally, I told him all this haughtily. He just giggled maniacally and told me, “Your parents are there, too. That’s the trouble with you humans, you don’t see with your eyes. You see what other people tell you to see, not what’s actually there!” He laughed and walked towards the door, passed through it and, apparently, onto the street.

I ran over quickly, opened the door, and looked out. The creature that I had thought was my freak-a-zoid little brother was really a goblin from the “mysterious land of Sneer.”

“I knew it,” I said to myself. I had always known, but by my parents constantly saying: “Of course he’s your little brother! Don’t be ridiculous!” drove it just out of reach. It’s like the little brother impersonator said. My sight is being affected by what people tell me is there!

I decided to try seeing “correctly.” I made up my mind to try walking through the door. I closed my eyes and told myself over and over again that there really wasn’t a door in front of me. I said it over and over again in my head. Then, when I had decided that I had memorized it well enough, opened my eyes. The door was gone! I walked forward and passed through. I was outside and I hadn’t used a door! Then I focused really hard. I tried to tell myself that there was a door in front of me that led to the Land of Sneer. I focused so hard that I got a bloody nose. I made myself know that there was a door there. I still didn’t stop. I thought for five minutes on it, and when I opened my eyes there was a door in front of me.

It was a wooden door with an iron door frame. Carved on it were the pictures of fairies, dragons, even some goblins! There were light scratches all down the door, and the paint was scuffed. The third electron on one of the… oh, sorry. I like to go into detail. Anyway, I pulled it open on well oiled hinges. Through the door I could see what looked like a jungle. Little bugs were flying around everywhere. I took a deep breath, and stepped in. The little bugs began flying around my head, and settling on me. That was when I noticed that they weren’t bugs at all, they were fairies! I tried petting one of them. It bit my finger with needle sharp teeth. I pulled my finger back, and brushed the little pests off. They buzzed angrily and flew off through the woods.

I headed straight through the woods because there didn’t seem to be any way to go other than forward. I walked for what seemed an hour. The only things I met were more of those fairy things. It seemed to be an ordinary forest, except for two things; the fairies, and the strange whispering. As I walked, I heard a faint, almost inaudible, whispering. It continued even if I turned around. It seemed to be coming from all around me, above, below, everywhere. I walked a little faster, yet the whispering continued. I heard a rustle in the trees. I looked up, and nobody was there. I was running now, and the whisperings grew louder. They didn’t sound at all human. I came suddenly into a clearing, and the whispers stopped. Dizzy, I fell onto the grass, too tired to move.

I slept for who knows how long on the cool green grass. I was awakened suddenly by the whispering again; only this time there was only one source of it. I opened my eyes, and a tall slender figure was standing over me. I screamed and leapt backward. The creature was humanoid, only slightly taller than the average person. His features were fair, yet most distinct were his pointed ears. He began making the whispering noise again, but the way he spoke was louder than the whispers that I had heard before. He grinned, and pulled out a flask of liquid and handed it to me. He made a motion, telling me to drink it. I cautiously took a sip. It was delicious, but once I took a sip, he took it back. I said to him, “What is that?” I jumped at the sound of my own voice. It sounded like the whispering that I had heard before, but I understood it!

Then he spoke, “This is juice of Mythalas. It allows you to understand all the languages of the world. I only allowed you a small sip because it is very rare.”

He suddenly stopped, and stared just past my head. “Your ears… They are not pointed. You are of the race of man.” He stared wondrously at me.

“Look dude,” I said,”You’re a guy, and I’m a guy, so the staring thing is starting to freak me out.”

He gently shook his head. “I am sorry, but I have never seen a human before. My name is Gorsiv. I am an elf serving under the Lord Elrond.”

Now, I’ve read the Lord of the Rings books back to front, so I know all about Elrond and Rivendell. “Wait a minute; Elrond is a character in a book. What do you mean by you serve under Elrond?”

Gorsiv sat cross-legged on the grass. “Only about one-hundred human years ago, a man like you came to Sneer. This man’s name was John Tolkien. He studied our world and, yes, I believe he was writing a book based on some of the things he saw here.”

I just sat there and stared at him. Gorsiv laughed, “Close your mouth human boy! A fairy might fly in!” I closed my mouth, embarrassed. “So, where exactly am I Gorsiv?” I asked hesitantly. “Well, let's see,” he puzzled, “You are in the south woods of the elven realm, eastern Sneer.” He finished with a laugh, long and sincere. I suddenly realized that I was in a huge realm of “fairy tale” creatures. I yawned. It had been a busy day. He looked at me, concerned. “Are you alright?” he questioned nervously.

I yawned again, “Yes, I’m just exhausted.” He got up and offered a hand to me. I accepted it gratefully, and was pulled up by an exceptionally strong arm. He guided me through the forest with the ease of a skilled woodsman.

As we were walking, I heard the whispering again, but this time I could understand what I was hearing. The voices talked about many things; about sun, and rain, and when the snow would come again. It was very odd because I doubted that, even in this world, people talked about things like how squirrels run up and down your body. Then I realized that the trees were talking! Gorsiv smiled, and whispered, “You should hear them sing. They only do it on a full moon.” I looked up into the tree-tops as he led me on, wondering what they sang about.

As I began to feel as if I can’t take another step, Gorsiv pointed up into a huge tree that I hadn’t noticed before. There, built from a living tree, was what seemed to be a city. It rose up hundreds of feet into the canopy, twisting and weaving until it seemed as if it would reach the heaven. “Up there,” pointed Gorsiv, “is my home, where I live alongside Elrond, and my kin.” As we neared the tree, a rope ladder dropped down from a platform above. Gorsiv motioned for me to climb it. I took hold of one of the rungs and pulled myself up. I managed to reach the top only by thinking of a bed.

Standing at the top was another elf, obviously the one who had lowered the ladder. Gorsiv pulled himself up onto the platform with much practiced grace. When he got up, he greeted the other elf and began speaking in low tones to him, gesturing at me several times. The discussion came to an end with both of them looking rather pleased. “We are now free to stay here,” Gorsiv whispered, “I was covering for you. None but an elf can stay up here, unless he has been invited by the doorman.” He motioned to the figure standing with the ladder. “Your room is being prepared as we speak.”

I looked at him questioningly, “How do the people up there know?” I asked, “I mean, they only just learned that I’m here, and he (I gestured at the doorman) is the only one who knows!”

He just smiled. “There is one other who saw. But that will be explained in time. Now, you need some sleep.” He led me up stairs, across bridges, until we finally came to the room that had been prepared for me. Gorsiv opened the door for me, and without thinking, I ran across the room and leapt headfirst onto the bed. I fell asleep before I even hit the bed.

I woke up to sunlight streaming through one of the windows. I sat up, stretched, and yawned. I looked out the window, and then it hit me. It was a sparrow that had flown in through the window. I screamed and fell flat on the hard wood floor. I got up and looked around as I rubbed my sore head. There was a desk, a bed, and what seemed to be a wash basin. Suddenly, from behind me, I heard a small cough. I spun around, but the only one there was that gosh-darned sparrow.

I sat back down on the bed and heard another small noise. I spun around again. Only the sparrow was there. As I watched, the sparrow rubbed its head with a wing and began talking. “I’m very sorry,” the sparrow said in a sing song voice, “I wasn’t expecting you to sit up so suddenly.”

“That’s alright,” I said. I don’t know why I was talking to a sparrow. It just seemed like the polite thing to do. “Would you mind getting me something to drink?” it sang, “I would get something myself, but I am still a little stunned from the collision.” I got up shakily, and walked over to the water basin.

I took a leaf that was lying next to the basin, and put a few droplets of water onto the leaf. I then proceeded to carry the leaf over to the sparrow. I spilled a few water droplets, but other than that, I got it all the way over to the bird. I set it down carefully on the bed, and the sparrow hopped over to drink. I plopped down on the bed, stunned at what was happening. I was talking to a sparrow, while sitting high in the world’s largest tree house, in a world that only a few humans have ever seen! I felt a gentle tapping on my leg. Looking down, I saw the sparrow gently pecking at my pants. Seeing me look down, it stopped. “Now that my throat isn’t so parched,” the sparrow sang, “I can tell you why I came here in the first place.” It cleared its throat. “Gorsiv asked me to tell you that you need to leave here at once. Some trolls that came here in the night were spreading the message that if any humans were to come here, they were to be turned over to the goblins at once.”

The sparrow took a deep breath and continued, “You are to meet him at the clearing that you met him at. If you can’t find your way, ask the trees. They will know.” The sparrow turned around and, without saying so much as goodbye, flew off through the window. By now, I was getting really freaked out. The goblins seemed determined to catch me as well. They employed trolls apparently, and even the elves were going to be on the lookout for me. I decided that I had to leave before they got me, and any hope of rescuing my parents would be lost.

As I walked through the forest, I munched on some bread. I had found it in a small cupboard just outside the room along with some rope. I guess Gorsiv had been able to make a stop by my room beforehand. I had used the rope to get out of the tree house without being noticed by the doorman. I had to stop and ask directions from time to time but, other than that, it was a mostly uneventful trip.

As I walked I wondered why the goblins had taken my little brother and parents in the first place. Maybe they needed a human sacrifice, or maybe they needed slaves! “Well, whatever it is, I need to save them!” I shouted to the trees. I heard the whispers. It sounded like they were agreeing with me. I continued through the forest until I eventually came to the clearing. In the middle was Gorsiv. His legs were crossed and his eyes closed. As I got closer, his eyes opened. “You got the sparrow’s message I take it?” he questioned. “Yes,” I replied, “But what I don’t understand is, why did the goblins take my parents? And now I wonder why they also want me!” By now I was shouting, “Why would they want us? What have we ever done to them?”

Gorsiv just sat there and watched me. Eventually I just sat down, and tried to calm down. He waited until I was calm again, and then he spoke. “I understand your anger, but what you must understand is, this is a very long and complex subject and will take a long time to explain.”

“Well,” I said, “It’s not like I need to be anywhere right now.”

“Actually,” said Gorsiv, “you do need to be somewhere. The goblins and trolls are still looking for you. There are very few places that are guaranteed to be safe from them.”

“Where?” I asked impatiently.

“We must take you to the dwarves. They are arch enemies of the goblins, and would never let one in their mines.” He responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It will be a long and rather difficult journey, but it is necessary to ensure your protection.” By this time I was really puzzled. He spoke as if I’m one of the most precious things in the whole world!

“But,” I stammered, “Why do I need to go into hiding? I need to save my family!”

Gorsiv looked patiently at me. “All will be explained in good time. Now, we must go. I have managed to find a few people who will help us. You must go to meet them alone. I will meet up with you as soon as I can.”

At these words, I felt a great sadness. I had only known him for a short time, but he had already grown on me. He was a friend in this new world, something that I would obviously not have very many of. I heard a rustle in the trees, and spun around. Standing just behind me were three elves. They were dressed in cloaks that seemed to shift as the trees moved, and were each carrying longbows. Gorsiv motioned for me to follow them. As I walked towards them, I saw a tear rolling down his cheek. One of the new elves gave me a cloak similar to theirs and, without a word, guided me through the trees. I heard the trees whispering. I tried listening, and what I heard was this:

Travel far away from harm,

Underground you go.

You leave a friend,

So you must if you are

To fulfill your quest.

The trees ended their chant and went on talking about the usual stuff. The elves continued walking in their impassible silence. I tried talking once, but one of them clamped a calloused hand over my mouth and motioned for me to be silent. I busied myself with listening to the trees and what they had to say. Now, you’d think that listening to trees would be the dullest thing in the world right? Well actually, it was very interesting. Since most of the trees here didn’t have to worry about lumberjacks, they lived for hundreds, even thousands of years, so I learned a lot about the history and culture of this new world. After hours of walking, the elves stopped so suddenly that I almost ran into them. They quietly began to clear away the brush and undergrowth in a small circle on the ground. Then, using the dead twigs and branches, lit a small fire. Then one of the elves took out a small pouch of what seemed like dead leaves.

He sprinkled a pinch of them on to the fire. It flared up for a moment, and then settled down until it was little more than a smolder, yet it gave off the same amount of heat as a normal fire. The elves sat cross-legged, just as Gorsiv had done that morning, and closed their eyes. I lay down on the ground and tried to sleep, but couldn’t get comfortable. Wherever I lay there was either a stone or root digging a hole in my back. Eventually, I gave up, sat cross-legged like the elves, and closed my eyes.

The next morning, I was awakened by a hand gently shaking me. I opened my eyes. “Wow!” I said aloud, “That sleeping technique you guys use for the woods is awesome!” As I was about to go on, the same one clammed a hand over my mouth, and motioned for me to be quiet. I suddenly noticed that all three of them had their bows out with arrows fit to the string. They were crouching, ready for anything. They were whispering, but I noticed that it was much gentler than the usual language that elves spoke. It was almost identical to the trees’ speech. They would speak, and then listen, as if talking to someone who wasn’t there. Then I realized that they were speaking to the trees! They must have been getting information from them. I watched as the conversation came to an end. The elves put away their bows and arrows. Then the one who had covered my mouth those few times walked over to me.

“I’m sorry that we have not allowed you to speak, but some of the trees in that part of the woods are not friendly. If we had allowed you to talk they would have told the goblins, or some of their allies. We have just been asking some of the local trees, and found that the trees on the goblins side do not grow here. I am Wolfka, and this is Thane, and Hilthore.” “Pleased to meet you!” Thane rushed forward and shook my hand vigorously. “You won’t get much of a welcome from Hilthore. He had always lived alone in the very center of the woods. He rarely sees anybody except your friend Gorsiv.”

“Well,” said Wolfka, “We don’t have to move quite so inconspicuously any more.” He took out a small horn. It seemed to be made of wood, and had the shape of a stag, inlaid with gold all the way down its length. Wolfka brought it to his lips, and blew such a mighty blast on it that the whole woods rang with the sound of it. Even the other elves had to put their hands to there ears. That’s how mighty a blast it was. Almost the instant he had blown it, four white stags came bounding out of the woods. I yelled and jumped out of the way, but they slowed down and stopped a few feet in front of us. “These white stags,” Wolfka explained, “will bear you farther and faster than even the greatest of horses.”

The smallest stag walked up to me and nuzzled my arm. I cautiously petted it, remembering what my dad had said about deer carrying ticks. Thankfully, there weren’t any. Hilthore placed thin saddles that had been rolled up in his pack onto the stags. I noticed that they didn’t have stirrups. I saw Wolfka and Hilthore leap up on to the stags. I tried replicating the move, but only succeeded in falling, and hurting my butt. Thane, who hadn’t mounted yet, smiled and walked over to me. He offered his hands for me to step up on. He held his hands in a cup, as I stepped up onto them and, using them as a step up, mounted the stag. Once I was up, Thane walked over to the stag that had chosen him and, like the others, swung up onto his mount. “We will be heading north,” he motioned to what must have been north, “We will continue until we reach the Pontith River. There, we will be met by dwarves who have prepared a raft for you and Thane.”

I was puzzled. Why would he be telling me all this? I mean, if he came along with us there would be no need for him to tell me what to do. I voiced my concerns to him. He smiled grimly, “Hilthore and I must go back to the elven city. There are many things that are happening that we must help with. Thane will be accompanying you, and when he gets the chance, Gorsiv will visit you from time to time. Now, we must leave.” Without another word, Wolfka shifted his weight in the saddle, and the stag turned. Then he whispered something like, “Go quickly” to his mount, and sped off through the woods. Hilthore, however, reached into his pack and brought out something wrapped in cloth. He handed it to me then, doing what Wolfka had done, sped off into the woods. I looked down at the bundle.

“You’d better open that once we get safely on the raft.” Commented Thane, “We should get a move on if we are to be there before dark comes upon us once more.”

I nodded and looked around for a place to keep it. Thane laughed, “I’ll keep it safe for you. I reluctantly handed it to him. He then gently laid it into his pack. “Okay,” he said, “time for your crash course on riding. Lean to the left on the saddle to move left, and the same with the right. To go forward, you ask the stag to move forward and the same to stop. If you need to hold onto something, NEVER hold onto the antlers. Wrap your arm around his neck like this.” Thane demonstrated how you wrap your arms around the neck and clasp your hands together. That made sure that you don’t lose your grip. “Lastly,” he continued, “Always treat him with respect. White stags are very noble creatures, and they only came when Wolfka blew the horn was because they felt that our cause was just.” The two deer snorted as if in agreement.

“Wait,” I asked skeptically, “how could they tell our cause was just?”

Thane smiled, “The trees.”

I did what Thane had taught me. It worked, but the constant bumping was really starting to pain my rear end. As we were riding, Thane told me more about how I could improve my riding. He showed me that if I bounce to the rhythm of the stag’s strides, it would keep my butt from getting sore. He explained things so thoroughly that, by the time it was noon, I was almost completely free of sores. Something that I found out by myself was that I could talk to the stag as we were riding. It turns out that the stag I was riding was orphaned when goblins slew his mother, father, and the whole rest of his herd. The elves had found him at death’s door. It took all their skills of healing to save him. After healing him, the elves had raised him until he was old enough to be on his own. It was mainly because of this favor that he had come when Wolfka’s horn blew. The other reason that he had come was because he wanted revenge on the goblins. I questioned how this would help him get revenge on the goblins, but he just stopped talking all together, but he did say this: “That is not in my rights to tell you. If you want more information on a matter such as that, you must be patient, and wait. If you continue to ask in ways such as this, as in asking anyone you meet, you will be shunned. It is shameful to ask such things of others.”

Instead of stopping for lunch, we ate while we rode. Being an elf, Thane had no problem with it, whereas I kept spilling water all down my front. Unfortunately, about a minute after eating, I began getting horrible cramps. I moaned so loud that, for a second, Thane thought that a troll was following us. Luckily however, the pain soon subsided. We continued riding for much of the day. Even with Thane’s lessons my tailbone was getting sore. Then, without warning, the two deer stopped and sniffed at the air. The one I was riding whispered in a scared voice, “Goblins, hundreds of them.” Thane heard this too and, without hesitating, whispered to the stag that was bearing him and shot off into the forest like a white lightning bolt. Before I could whisper to “my” stag, he shot off after them. I just barely had time to grab around his neck and, even when I did it was all I could do just to hold on.

We raced at this breakneck speed for what seemed like an hour. Just as my arms were about to give out we began to slow down. The stags slowed down to a steady walk as we neared a large river. There, sitting at the bank, were four dwarves. There was also a large stake driven into the ground next to one of them. Tethered to the stake was a raft. The raft appeared to be made out of logs of metal, but that would be impossible. The nearer we got, however, the more it began to look like wood. As we approached, the dwarves bowed so low to the ground that their beards got coated with mud. They straightened, looking embarrassed. One of them stepped forward. He was slightly taller than the others, and on the hand he raised in a gesture of friendship he had a golden ring. The ring looked like a rope with three knots in it. “We have been waiting long for you.” He said in a gruff voice, “We must hurry. Many goblins come behind you.”

Thane leapt aboard the raft and the dwarves came up behind him. “Come on!” urged Thane hurriedly. I did as he ordered, pausing only to stroke the fur of the stag that had brought me so far. I hopped onto the raft, which swayed a little from the momentum of my jump. The dwarf with the ring severed the rope that tethered the raft to the shore, while the others used long poles to propel us through the water. I watched as the shore drifted away.

The wood of the raft was surprisingly hard and cool, even for one that had probably been on the water for days at a time. I questioned one of the dwarfs working the poles. He laughed a deep and hearty laugh. “You’re funny human boy! This raft ain’t wood! This is steel of the finest quality! We make hollow cylinders of it, that way it’ll float.” I suddenly remembered how the raft looked more and more like wood after I had told myself that it couldn’t possibly be metal. I almost slapped myself in the forehead at how stupid I had been. I felt a tapping on my shoulder.

“Here you go.” said Thane’s voice from behind me. I turned around. He was holding the bundle that Hilthore had given me. “I did say that you could see what it is when we got to the raft.” I took it back from him gratefully and looked at the bundle like you would look at a present on your birthday. It was about a foot long, and was rather heavy.

I unrolled the cloth very carefully, and looked at what was inside. There was a sheath lying there on the raft. It was a beautiful, foot-long dagger. The hilt was a piece of oak, polished until you could see your face on it. There was also a line of gold inlaid in the pattern of a vine. The blade was steel with runes carved down its length. The sheath was wooden (elves don’t use animals, and the plants they use are only ones that are already dead) with gems set in the shape of a dragon. It was truly a sight to behold. Thane stared with wonder at it too. “That blade was given to him by Elrond! I wonder why he would give it away?”

“What do these runes on the blade mean, Thane?” He took it very carefully from me and set it on his lap.

“Hmmm.” He puzzled. “I don’t know. Only Elrond himself would know that.”

“Oh.” I said looking dejected.

“Cheer up human! Soon we’ll be at the dwarven mine, and everything will be alright!” We continued down the river and into the night. It got cold, so the dwarves lit a fire in the center of the raft.

The dwarf that I had asked about the raft grinned broadly and winked. “This is one advantage to a metal raft!” Eventually the time came when I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I sat cross-legged, and closed my eyes.

The next morning I was awakened by the shouts of the dwarves, and the running of feet. I leaped to my feet and drew the dagger. I had strapped it to my belt last night. Thane rushed over to me. “There is a goblin ship sailing straight for us! We tried shaking it off, but it’s still coming. Do you know how to use that dagger?” I had seen movies with daggers in it, but had never held anything bigger than a pocket knife.

“No.” I said.

Thane grabbed the dwarf that had told me about the raft. “I need you to show the human how to use his dagger. Is that okay?” The dwarf nodded and came over to me.

“Okay kid. All you need to know is this: The pointy end goes into the other guy. Always stab at either the heart or the head.” The dwarf walked off and continued setting up what appeared to be a huge crossbow. He unscrewed a cap in one of the “logs” and stuck a pole into it. He then proceeded to mount the huge crossbow on to the pole. He then cocked the crossbow and fitted in an arrow. I looked past him to see if I could see the ship they were talking about. I could see it alright. It was less that a mile away, and closing in. I gripped my dagger tighter as I saw hundreds of goblins swarming all over the ship. I was surprised at how few of them looked like the one that had impersonated my brother. The rest of the dwarves were stringing bows, and checking the straightness of their shafts. Thane was doing the same.

“We have an advantage,” he stated, “They don’t have a single archer. Goblins don’t have the skill needed to fire a bow.”

The ship was less than a quarter of a mile away by now. Grisdern, the dwarf that I had asked about the logs, was taking aim with the ballista (that’s the huge crossbow that I was talking about). With a loud *THWANG* he fired the first bolt. It sailed far and fast. It hit a goblin, passes through it, and struck another that was standing behind it. Grisdern fired the ballista again and again, sometimes missing, sometimes hitting. Even when he missed, the bolts did incredible damage; it blew holes in the sides of the ship, keeping the goblins busy patching up the holes.

Of course, the ballista had one problem. It was running out of shots. Eventually there was only one arrow left. Grisdern took aim, and fired. There was something different about this arrow however. Before shooting it, he had soaked a rag in oil and, just before shooting it, set it on fire. The arrow streaked the sky and thudded onto the deck of the ship. The flames burst forth, spreading quickly over the dry wood. Goblins screamed with terror and agony. A few managed to escape by leaping overboard, yet even the ones who escaped the fire were killed by the arrows fired by Thane and the dwarves. The two ships were very close now. The goblin’s ship was almost completely gone yet the flames had been doused. There were still about fifty strong goblins ready to do battle. As the ship and raft neared each other, the goblins got ready to leap onto the raft. Three of them leapt off the boat. They were dead before they even hit the raft.

Then it hit me. It was one of the dead goblins. Then, as I heaved the body off of me, I noticed that the arrow that hit him wasn’t the kind of arrow that the dwarves used. In fact, the dwarves and Thane didn’t even have their bows out. Instead, they had their swords out and looking in awe at the forest. There, standing with bows drawn to the fullest, were around a hundred battle hardened dwarves, and, standing at their front with an arrow drawn, was Gorsiv. He winked at us and shouted to the dwarves, “Fire!” A hail of arrows fell onto the ship, and all who were on it. One goblin, however, managed to escape the deadly rain. He leapt off the boat, and, landing in front of me, raised his rusty scimitar to strike at me. Suddenly, I remembered what Grisdern had told me about using the dagger. I drove it into the goblins chest with the strength of desperation. I yanked it out as it fell backwards into the river. I stood there trembling. I dropped the dagger which pinged harmlessly onto the raft. I stood there, thinking about what I had done. I had killed. It didn’t matter if it was a goblin or not. I had killed. The dwarves landed the raft at the shore, but I just stood there. I had killed. Gorsiv walked over to me.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly. I didn’t reply, just stood there. I had killed.

I had killed. Gorsiv and Thane both tried to cheer me up, telling me that it was okay to kill, as long as it was for self-defense. It didn’t help. I didn’t talk as the dwarves who had come to our rescue led us to a cliff face. I didn’t say a word as one of the dwarves went up to a crack, knocked on the hard gray stone, and stood back.

I didn’t cry out as the stone seemed to melt away to reveal a large passage into the sheer cliff face. The dwarves led us down the passage that had opened. It was dark and slimy. I slipped a few times on mildew, only to be pulled up by either Gorsiv or Thane. The walls were roughly hewn, and jagged. I got cut once when I slipped. I didn’t notice it until Gorsiv pointed it out. He tried to bind it, but I pulled away. I didn’t care.

It was getting humid in the tunnel. The dwarves and I began to sweat. Gorsiv and Thane, however, merely took a swig of what looked and smelled of wine. After doing that, they began to breath slower, and if I talked to them, it took around ten seconds for them to actually look at me. The only thing that didn’t slow down was their pace. I knew elves could move quickly, but I practically had to jog to keep up. The dwarves were no better. They were moving very quickly and, even after walking what seemed like miles, they didn’t even show signs of tiring. Eventually we came to a fork in the road. They were both identical, except the one on the left was slightly hotter.

What surprised me most though, was that the dwarves didn’t go down either passage. I guessed the leader was the one wearing incredibly heavy armor with runes etched down the sides. He walked up to the left fork, while another dwarf with the exact same armor, who I hadn’t noticed before, stood before the passage on the right. They stood there for a few minutes, quietly.

Then I noticed something. The two dwarves were muttering in a language that even the Mythalas juice couldn’t help me to understand. I tried questioning Gorsiv about this but, before I could open my mouth, a hand clapped over my mouth. This wasn’t an elf or even a dwarf’s hand. This hand was red and clawed. I followed the arm down with my eyes. The arm was a bright red. I watched in amazement as fire seemed to grow from its arm like hair. Standing there in front of me was a creature slightly bigger than a goblin.

The difference that caught my attention first was its red skin. It was bright red, with veins pulsing down its body. Its hair was a bright red and made of flame, and seemed to grow larger as it spoke. “Come with me and don’t make a sound if you value your life.” I was surprised to find out that its voice was in my head. When it spoke, my head became a roaring inferno.

Not literally, of course, but that’s how much it hurt. I guessed that this is what it felt like to be spoken to mentally. He continued speaking. I was writhing in pain, yet I could still hear him. “Don’t try to escape human. You’re going straight to the goblins.” My eyes were watering with pain, and my body was going into convulsions. I looked pleadingly up at Gorsiv, but he was frozen.

I struggled to look around. Everyone was standing absolutely motionless. “What did you do?” I croaked. My throat was sore.

“I stopped time, duh!” said the little fiery creature, “It’s a little trick we hobgoblins learn from an early age!” He grabbed me firmly by the arm and led me back the way we had come in. Suddenly, the hobgoblin tripped and fell flat on his already flat nose. I looked behind myself. One of the dwarves was standing there with his leg stuck out. At first I thought that he had just frozen that way. Then I saw the dwarf wink.

I noticed that it was Grisdern, the dwarf that had fired the ballista back on the raft. After noticing that I had seen him, he faced forward and stood as still as stone. The hobgoblin was muttering a stream of words in his head. The psychic link was very weak between us, so I only got a small twinge. The words that I heard him mutter would make even a New York City gang-leader flinch. He pushed himself up and brushed himself off. He looked around, glaring. His eyes fell on Grisdern’s leg. “I’ll teach you to stick out your leg just as I do a time stop,” the hobgoblin grumbled, as he pulled out a small sword. He raised it high over his head ready to hack off Grisdern’s leg. Suddenly, in the time it would take me to blink, Grisdern pulled out a great sword strapped to his back, and swung it at the hobgoblin’s head. It came in sudden contact with its short sword. The goblin smiled as he deflected Grisdern’s blow. I then saw the most amazing sword fight of my life.

They performed the moves with such speed and grace … I would never look at sword fights the same way ever again. Despite his advantage with a great sword, however, Grisdern was eventually disarmed, and the malicious hobgoblin was standing over him, sword point at the valiant dwarf’s neck. The goblin was so excited that his fiery hair was almost licking the ceiling. He raised his sword high over his head. I was a few feet behind him, and I saw the sword blade swing down. “No!” I screamed, and lunged forward. I drew my dagger. The hobgoblin’s sword was flying down towards Grisdern.

I held my dagger out in front of me like a spear, aimed directly for the evil creature’s back. It found flesh. It drove deep into its back. The goblin gasped as it struck his spine, snapping it. He struck the floor, dead. I stood there stunned. It wasn’t out of horror for what I had done, but out of astonishment that I had saved someone’s life.

Suddenly it hit me. Grisdern had stood up and had given me a friendly punch on the shoulder. He had to stand on tiptoes to do it, however. “Good job human lad! You’ve finally learned how to use that little toothpick!” As he said this, he went over and picked up the sword that, I just now noticed, was as long as he was tall! “Now,” he continued, “We need to go back to reality. Hold my hand.” I grasped the thickly calloused hand that he had extended out to me.

Then, with out warning, the world was moving again. It was a little disorientating at first, but I got used to it. The dwarves with the decorated armor were coming to an end of the chant. With a few final words, they turned around, and began heading back the way we had come. The other dwarves followed. I felt a hand clasp my shoulder. I spun around; worried that it was another hobgoblin.

Gorsiv was standing there with a grim look on his face. “What happened?” he asked me nervously, “You suddenly disappeared, only to reappear a moment later five feet away with blood on your dagger!” I told him what had happened. His face turned from worry, to anxiety, and finally, to overwhelming surprise and joy. “You killed a hobgoblin?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, kind of. His back was turned and was focusing on Grisdern.” Gorsiv face was now a mix of joy and anxiety.

“When you saved Grisdern’s life, it created a bond between you.

“Long ago, the dwarves created a powerful magic so that if a being saved the life of a dwarf, the dwarf would be sworn to protect that person from harm. This is good because you will be protected by Grisdern until either you or he dies.”

“But why do you also look worried?” I asked.

“It was because you killed a hobgoblin.”

I turned to see Thane walk up from behind me. “Hobgoblins are goblins who have been possessed by a demon. In the goblin world, it is the very highest honor to be possessed. Now that you have killed its body, the demon will attempt to kill you in any way…” Thane was cut off by the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the tree tops. I looked around. There was nothing.

“No,” whispered Gorsiv, “It cannot have come so soon.” I turned to where they were looking. I saw a faint glimmer, like heat waves rising from the road on a sunny day.

The glimmer appeared to glide closer to me. An arm like appendage raised high above its head, like I saw the hobgoblin do. I was paralyzed with fear. Gorsiv looked around, not seeing it. The spirit brought the arm down. It never hit. It froze in midair, quivering slightly. Then it slumped to the floor with the rattling gasp of someone being stabbed in the back. I saw Grisdern standing just inside the passage; his hands were firmly clasped upon a sword made entirely of stone. As I watched, the sword melted into the wall.

“The stone is holy to the dwarf,” Thane whispered to me as he walked up, “If a demon is struck by a holy sword, it’s sent back to the abyss.” I didn’t understand half of that, but nodded anyway so as not to appear a stupid human. Grisdern turned around and motioned for me to follow.

I walked towards him and he extended his hand. I looked skeptically at the dwarf, but he persisted so I took it. The moment I touched his hand, time froze. I spun around, looking for another hobgoblin. The only one moving was Grisdern. “I needed to speak with you in private. There are some things you need to know.” He was speaking quickly in his gruff voice.

“Okay, shoot.”

“I am a time stopper. My clan has always been charged with the defense of Goldshine against hob goblins. If not for us, the dwarves would have been wiped out long ago. The races of the goblin are not shunned from the intelligent races societies, and some goblins settle down and live peacefully, for a short time at least. But, unfortunately, the goblins crave power above all else.

At least once in their life, they have to kill an innocent creature and take its life force for their own. That is the only way that they can survive. As babies they kill smaller things, such as bugs and small mammals. If a goblin can catch them, elves are their preferred prey due to their long life.”

“But,” I interrupted, “Gorsiv said that the elves were looking out for me after the goblins told them that I had come. Why would the elves talk to their enemies?”

“Ah,” continued Grisdern, “That is one of the elves few weaknesses. They take pity on creatures, even if they have hunted them all their life. Anyway, the goblins have a shaman. His preferred ‘meal’ is the human. He’s able to make the short existence of a human go along way. That is why your parents were taken here. That is why you were lured here.”

I stood there, stunned. “So,” I said in a hoarse whisper, “The king ate my parents’ life force?”

“No,” Grisdern answered, “He needs to use up his other meal first.” I tried getting more out of him, but he wouldn’t say a word. He unfroze time, and we followed the dwarves out the way we had come.

We never reached the mouth of the cave. I watched in astonishment as the walls slowly became carved with skill and beautiful craftsmanship. The tunnel opened suddenly into a large cavern. The walls were beautifully carved, and inlaid with precious gems and metals. The cavern itself must have been miles long. All over the place, dwarves were trading, eating, and talking. Here and there, little foot high dwarf children were playing games with beautifully crafted toys.

The oddest sight, however, were the dwarf women. They looked almost exactly the same as the dwarf men, except most didn’t have beards. I saw the two leaders a little way ahead. They were clearing a path through the crowd. As we passed, people stopped whatever they were doing and eyed us warily. I got the most stares. A tiny dwarf child ran up to me and touched my leg, then ran off giggling.

We continued down the cavern for what seemed like days. In the distance loomed a huge Egyptian obelisk. It eventually became clear to me that that’s were we were going. Even after the first five miles it didn’t seem to be getting any closer. The dwarves and elves didn’t seem to be getting tired at all. I finally just threw all pride to the wind and sat down on the street. Then it hit me. A dwarf, apparently in his teens, had punched me hard in the back of the head. “Why in the name of Karoth did you come to Goldshine?” he screamed, “Now we’ll have a goblin attack a day with you here!” Some older dwarves grabbed him and pulled him back. I got up quickly and hurried after Gorsiv, rubbing my bruised skull.

After an hour had passed, we finally got to the obelisk. It was at least three-thousand feet high, with strange runes running up and down it on all sides. There was a little door at the bottom. The two leaders of the group went up to the door and knocked three times.

The door swung open slowly. The other dwarves who had been escorting us, turned around and left the way we had come. The only ones left were myself, Thane, Gorsiv, and the two leaders. “The Clan chieftain will see you now.” The two dwarves said. It was then that I realized that they were twins, identical to the last beard hair. They motioned us inside.

First in was Thane, then myself, and finally Gorsiv, bringing up the rear. The door was low, so we had to duck, but Gorsiv, being the tallest, practically had to crawl. The inside was nothing like what I had imagined! Instead of a huge hollowed out room, it was a winding stairway, going up miles, until it vanished into the darkness. The two dwarf twins bowed to us, their beards sweeping the floor. “This is where we leave you.” They said in perfect synchronization. “He is at the top, waiting for you.”

I groaned aloud at the thought of more walking. “Why the heck is it so high?” Thane and Gorsiv each clapped a hand over my mouth, but the damage was already done. The twins’ faces became beet red. They began gnashing their teeth in fury. As I watched, they began to change. Their bodies and heads became more elongated, and their rough skin turned scaly. Gorsiv grabbed me, and began running up the stairs with me in tow. Thane was coming up behind with his bow drawn, and an arrow fitted to the string. I heard snarling coming from behind, and Gorsiv pulled harder.

I was running as fast as I could. Then, I remembered something. I focused hard on making myself believe that there wasn’t anything chasing us, but it wasn’t working. Nobody told me that they were there, so they were real. My thoughts were wrenched back by the twang of a bow, and the scream of a creature falling, and hitting with a thud, some way below. I chanced a look behind. I saw one of the lizard creatures circling below us, limping with every stride, an arrow in its leg. I didn’t see the other one.

While I had my head turned, I ran into something very solid. I saw Gorsiv lash out with something as I fell to the floor, the world around me revolving lazily. I felt a strong arm lift me up. Gorsiv was standing there, breathing hard. Behind him, I saw the form of the lizard-like creature, its chest rising and falling gently.

“Never,” gasped Gorsiv, “do something as impolite as that in front of the twins. Long have they guarded this city, and they do not suffer fools.” This last remark stung me, as I climbed slowly over the great hulking body. All I had done was complain a little too loud! I expressed my incredulity at Gorsiv’s unfairness to Thane.

“Gorsiv was right to reprimand you,” Thane said in a harsh voice. “Dwarves are very proud of their work, and your comment gave the firm impression that you did not appreciate the work and labor that went into building a mile high obelisk.”

I still didn’t fully understand why they tried to kill us, and I didn’t ask. Once over the unconscious dwarf-lizard, I began the long, slow, upward journey to the top. My breathing grew ragged as I climbed the perfectly carved stone stairs. After ten minutes of climbing, I heard growling coming from below. Behind me, Gorsiv and Thane grew nervous, fingering their weapons as they slowed, reducing the sound of their footsteps to almost nothing.

I followed suit, but with much less success. The growling eventually died down, and we continued at our normal pace. The climb was long and hard. When I stopped and sat down to rest, my elf companions did the same, both looking thoroughly exhausted. Once, I estimated that we were about three-fourths of the way there. I looked down over the edge of the stairs to get a bearing. Then it hit me. No, nothing ran into, or squashed, me. Not this time. When I looked over that ledge, I saw a gaping abyss.

The bottom was shrouded in utter darkness; there was no sign of the twins, or the bottom, for that matter. While I was standing there, I saw the darkness coming closer, and closer. I realized that it was peaceful just standing there. I heard Thane shout something, but it didn’t matter what he said. Nothing mattered. The darkness was coming faster now. Hands grabbed me and tried to pull me back. I struggled and shouted that I wanted to be left alone. I wanted the peace of the dark. I felt my body tense, and the darkness came to me.

Death is peaceful. At least, that’s what I’m told. I was not dead. First, I was bumped around, then my arm was soaked in something that made my old cut sting like crazy! (It got cut when we were coming into the dwarven caves, remember?) I was jolted awake from my not-so-peaceful repose by water. This was scalding hot water. And it was poured into a very uncomfortable spot for men.

The scream I let out was probably heard all over the dwarven city. After letting out the scream, I leapt up and began running in circles. I don’t know why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. While running in those circles, apart from getting very dizzy, I also saw who had boiled me. It was, quite obviously, a dwarf. He was standing there holding the bucket that poured the water. “I thought that would get you awake!” He chuckled merrily.

Gorsiv hurried over to me. He had been sitting in the corner. “How does your arm feel?” he questioned nervously. I looked down at my left arm. It seemed fine.

“I meant the other arm.” I felt reeeally stupid just then. I looked hesitantly at my right arm, and fainted.

I dreamed. I had this horrible nightmare that my arm was coated in some sort of weird disease. This big dwarf guy was there too, telling me about it. I don’t want to make you vomit, so I’ll only tell you a little of what he said. Let’s just say that it involved huge pus-filled globs the size of baseballs roaming around under the skin of my right arm. That didn’t gross you out did it? It did? Oh, well..

“Wake up.” I heard a voice say. I cracked my eyes open the tiniest bit. Standing over me was a beautiful maiden with flowing red hair. “C’mon. Wake up.” “You’re one hot babe.”

I murmured. She laughed. The laugh, however, became gruff like a dwarf’s. As I watched, my vision seemed to clear, and the dwarf who had scalded me was standing over me where the girl had been. By now he had begun rolling on the ground in uncontrollable mirth. I saw Thane leaning against a wall, doubled over with laughter.

The only one who wasn’t laughing was Gorsiv. This relieved me a little. Gorsiv looked like he had been asleep. I was mistaken. He was lying on the ground practically unconscious. He wasn’t laughing. He was almost choking, he thought it was so funny. I frowned, and folded my arms. “It was not that funny.” I scolded.

Gorsiv rolled so that he was facing me. His face was a deep shade of maroon. I couldn’t understand him, but his gasps came out something like “Ye *gasp* s *gasp* it *gasp* was *gasp**gasp**gasp*”

I took this moment of humiliation to study the place I was in. It was a fairly small room, yet furnished with items that could fetch a pretty penny at any auction. There were also four windows. I walked over to one of them. Under it was the letter “N”. I looked out.

(Hi. Two seconds here. Have you ever been in a transcontinental aircraft? Imagine being over 20,000 feet high. Now imagine that you weren’t moving. Finally, pretend that you are looking out the window, and there wasn’t any glass between you and the drop. Can you visualize that? I can. In fact, I was standing in the place that you just imagined. Okay, back to the story.)

I didn’t have enough breath to scream. I just stood there, petrified with terror. I didn’t move. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were screaming for air, but I couldn’t please them. For about the twelfth time that day, I fainted.

“Look, if you fall unconscious again I’ll… do something bad to you!” Thane was reprimanding me.

“Look, I’m sorry.” I said. “I guess I don’t have that strong of a constitution.”

“We need to get your parents.” The dwarf said. I nodded, then spun around to look at him.

“How did you…” he winked and turned to look at Gorsiv. “Will you take him, my lord Gorsiv?”

“I suppose I must. But we brought him here to stay safe.”

I decided to speak up. “I will go. I want to help save them.”

Thane nodded. “Very well. But I will not accompany you two. I must get help. It is time to drive the scum of the goblins from this fair land.” To make a long story short, we parted.

Our parting was short but sad. Thane gave me some advice and a few sword techniques that I didn’t understand. It ended with Thane riding off with some elves who gave me odd looks.

“Well,” said Gorsiv, “We’d better get moving. Wipe away those tears and gather your things.” Quite the sentimentalist isn’t he? I did as I was told as Gorsiv ran off. He came back a few minutes later with a mighty stallion and a pony. “Take your pick.” The elf lord said, smiling. It was a difficult choice.

“I’ll take him.” I answered two and a half seconds later.

“Sorry. You’re stuck with Prickle.” Gorsiv laughed as if he had made a joke. I mounted my pony, grumbling. That joke was only funny on other people. The elf spurred his horse forward. I followed suit, my pony leaping forth with surprising agility. I had soon caught up to Gorsiv, who was smiling at the exhilaration of the ride.

“So, where exactly are we headed?” I called out over the thunder of hooves.

“To the goblin side of Sneer.” He called back. “Originally, the goblins were the only things that lived here. They fought, made peace, loved, and hated. That all changed when they learned of sacrifice. They would steal a creature, preferably human, and kill them. This had to be done by dropping the creature in boiling blood. They would then drink the broth.” I sat there for a minute then spoke.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

He looked at me blankly. “What is this ‘kidding?’” I looked at him incredulously. He laughed again. “I’m just kidding.” It went on like that for awhile. I swear, Gorsiv needs to get a decent sense of humor. As we rode, the sun reached its zenith, and then set. We didn’t stop. Gorsiv tossed me a water skin filled with a liquid that refreshed and strengthened me. We continued for almost three days. By the end my legs were cramped, and body felt like dust. On the morning of the third day, the forest ended abruptly. There was nothing but wasteland as far as the eye could see. There were a few burned stumps, but the rest of the ground was brown dirt, and brown grass.

“Here we are” Gorsiv said, solemnly. “Orshgog, land of the goblins.”

I gulped. I had a very bad feeling about this whole situation. We dismounted.

In a cheap novel, this is usually the place where the hero gets captured and the comic relief has to save him. Suddenly a net dropped over my head (we all saw that one coming) and about one-hundred goblins leapt up from places that I didn’t even think were hiding places. Several of them leaped at Gorsiv, who swung away and drew his sword. Seeing this, many others attacked him. He hacked, slashed, and lunged; leaving a trail of dead goblins. I covered my eyes. It’s one thing to see goblins killed in a movie, but to have it actually happening in front of you is a totally different matter.

When I opened my eyes, the elf was gone. Where he had been there was a score of dead goblins. He had escaped. I struggled, trying to get free of the net. When that didn’t work I pulled out the dagger that Hilthore had given to me and began cutting the ropes. Seeing me do this, the remaining goblins tackled me and snatched away my dagger. I should probably describe goblins to you. They’re about four feet tall with long claws and greenish-grayish skin. Oh, and they reek. They bundled me up in the net (I hadn’t damaged it too much) and carried me off. In the distance I could see smoke rising, coming from hundreds of camp fires. As we neared, what I took to be a goblin village, I could make out shacks, fires, and goblins. I never knew that this many goblins lived in the world. Of course, I didn’t know they existed in the world at all; but still. As we passed the first house, I noticed there was a family living there. There was a (ugly) mother putting food on a crude wooden table, a father holding a baby, and two children talking to each other. The other houses were much the same. They were all unique, yet held one thing in common: everyone looked weak. Children coughed, parents tried to help them while stifling coughs of their own. The procession drew people out of their houses. They all looked excited. We drew upon a large square. In the middle was a large pot. Suspended over the pot was my mom. I called out.

My mother looked up and, seeing me, looked frightened. Her eyes told me: ‘Why did you come here? You don’t have to die too!’ Actually, she was still too far away for me to see her eyes. I just determined that from what happened next. The goblins untangled me from the net and tied me to a pole. They then suspended the pole over the pot. The goblins cheered, as a very important person it a feather-covered robe stepped forward. He began talking in his own speech. He finished with a final word that sounded like “Gnash!” and the goblins screamed with joy. Then it hit me. These were not screams of joy. The priest whacked me with a stone, and I blacked out. I know, I know. My heads hurts a lot from these constant hits on the head.

When I came to, I saw carnage. The ground was littered with the bodies of goblins. I was no longer on a pole. I had been cut down. The goblins had been killed with arrows. All around me were elves and dwarves. They were speaking of victory, and “driving the scourge of the goblins back.” I stood up. I noticed that one of the dead goblins was one of the first that I had seen, he probably had a family. An elf ran up to me. It was Thane.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, “We drove the goblins back beyond the mountains.” He noticed that I was crying. “What’s the matter?” he asked, puzzled.

“I want to go home” I whispered. Thane looked surprised.

“Why?” he asked.

“It’s fun to read about killing,” I answered, “but if you actually experience it… it’s horrifying.”

“I see.” Thane replied. “Visualize the door, and remember to visit from time to time. Your parents are already back there. We sent them.” He handed me my dagger. “Take this. Not to kill, but to remember.”

I smiled through the tears. “Thanks.” I focused, got a bloody nose, and stepped through the door.

When I got back to my house, it was exactly the same time as when I left. My parents were in the kitchen discussing the weird dream they both had. My little brother was playing with underwear. The elves must have found him. He didn’t look too corrupted. I thought about running over and meeting him for the first time. Eh, it could wait. If not that, then what? I had hot chocolate.

~ The End ~

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