The mace swung into the bars with a loud, reverberant clang, which snapped Frey back to reality. He rolled left of the second swing and turned around to come face to face with a giant goblin; It was tall, beefy, and snarling. It was the goblins’ leader.

As Frey tried to stand and face his opponent, his knees buckled. He cursed. The goblin leader swung again, and Frey’s vision was snapped to the side with a dull crack. Dazed, and with blood flowing from his broken nose like a waterfall, he stared at Gwen’s cage to stay conscious.

The leader relentlessly bashed away only to be deflected by Frey’s shield, each blow sending shivers down his arm. Amidst the barrage, he leaned his back against the cage and propped himself up. “Back off!” he spat. He launched the light crystal into the leader’s face, creating a bright flash as its energy released at once.

Frey and the leader both winced back, blinded. ‘It was a trap,’ Frey thought. ‘That’s why everyone was so quiet. The leader waited here, but how did he know I was coming? None of the goblins got away.’ He shook his head. ‘More importantly, how do I fight this guy? I barely have any strength left, and they’ll all see me if I use the hero’s power.’

He flexed his arms and legs, noting his shield-arm barely moved. He could get a few swings out of his right arm. He rubbed his eyes and drew his kopis.

The room would have been pitch black if not for the shards of light crystal on the ground. All Frey saw was a black outline rush towards him. He shifted his stance and swung, his blade meeting with hard metal – the leader’s mace. The monster’s yellow eyes saw through him the same as the darkness around them. Frey felt his shield tear away from his grasp. Joy sparked in the pair of yellow eyes.

Frey heard the shield crash into a far away wall, his last hope literally ripped from his grasp. He raised his kopis again, knowing deep down that the leader would see through his sloppy form. It was a feint, giving him an opening to clack his skull against the leaders, who shrieked in pain.

Liquid dripped down Frey’s forehead, past his nose, then past his gritted teeth: blood. He winced back, remembering that he had taken off his helm. His headache amplified threefold, but at least he had an opening.

He stepped forward and sent his blade down into the creature’s shoulder. He felt the leader’s chest twitch, and he knew it was dying. He let out a sigh of relief, and left his weapon buried in the leader’s chest. He doubted he could yank it out with the little strength he had left.

His eyes grew heavy. Maybe after some rest he might feel better. Just a short rest. ‘I can’t believe I let them die,’ he thought. ‘I kept our secret. I thought I was who my grandfather wanted me to be. Why did it have to come to this?’ The victory was bittersweet…and early. The outline of the leader rose up, its eyes flaring to life.

A meaty hand wrapped around Frey’s throat and his back hit the bars of Gwen’s cage. Blood ran down the leader’s broken shoulder. Frey hadn’t sunk the kopis deep enough, is what he initially thought. Glancing at the wound, he realized he wasn’t wrong. It was dying, but something kept it moving. ‘So this is what the mercenaries meant by strange attacks,’ Frey thought as he struggled to tear free of the grip. ‘These monsters are far more resilient. What happened to these weak goblins? It’s hellbent on killing me!’

Frey kicked and punched. He still had his pole axe but it was too heavy for him. He could barely hold his kopis, let alone swing it. His lungs burned. Everything became hazy and distant. He had never felt so weak. So powerless. Blood dripped from between the leader’s jagged teeth.

‘At least it’s got something to fight for,’ Frey thought, his eyes falling to Gwen’s empty cage. ‘Goddess knows I don’t anymore. I can’t do anything right.’ What did he care if he failed? Who would he protect with them gone?

The goblin raised Frey up and its grip tightened. A few more moments and it would be over. He wouldn’t have to worry about protecting his secret with his family gone. He wouldn’t have to stress about keeping Olpi out of things. He wouldn’t have to live to be like anyone. He would be at peace.

As he descended into a peaceful darkness, which wrapped him up in its warmth, the memories of his life fell away. Everything he was, and everything he would become. Gone.

It was terrifying.

Frey opened his eyes with a start, finding a boar’s tusk in his hand. The leader watched its tip plunge into one of its open eyes. It stepped back screeching, its hand sliding off Frey’s neck.

Frey tackled the leader to the ground even as he gulped down lungfuls of fresh air. Never had he fought so desperately, so afraid. He clawed away at the monster’s face, countless hours of technique and skill evaporating. He must never fall. His family was gone but his friends still needed him. For that end, for Elero, he did not need secrets. He needed to get back, and for that he needed strength.

The room brightened with a white, flaming aura. “I will never submit!” Frey cried out. “I am not that weak!” He inhaled and strength flooded into his weak body. And with that strength, came flashes of the leader’s memories…

The goblin tribe wept with their forest kin, fellow monsters, over the broken visage of the moon. Even the most maligned creatures understood the consequences to come for breaking the balance. No one told them; They knew it by instinct. Dark days came.

Frey shook his head. “What is this?” The leader’s corpse hit the ground, but the memories wouldn’t stop.

Staring down at an opening in the treetops was the fractured moon, which silhouetted a lone figure atop a hill. The figure, surprisingly a man, was not a monster like the goblin leader had been led to believe. To the starving tribe he gave gifts of bread to fill their stomachs and a friendly hand. The goblins under his feet were unmoving but alive; It was a show of power. He could have slaughtered them but chose not to. His point was made, a deal was struck.

Bones were thrown into an empty cage. Prisoners were threatened into silence. The trap was set. The leader waited in the dark for the last piece of the puzzle to come to him. With Frey handed over, there would be bread for all. He was just one human. One stupid human. Cannot be cold anymore. Cannot be hungry. Cannot restore the balance…

“Owen,” Frey said aloud. With his strength returned to him, for now, he let his body go through the motions of retrieving his things. His mind worked to digest what he had seen: the nauseous feeling in his gut, the sight of Owen fighting goblins, and the trap he had fallen into.

“What was that?” the farmhand’s voice took him out of his thoughts.

Frey glanced up to see all of the prisoners staring at him with mixed emotions. They had all been threatened into silence, but he couldn’t help wondering if he should leave them all behind. They had seen him use his grandfather’s power. If they got back to town, word would spread about him. “What do you think it was?” Frey asked.

“That was…impossible,” the farm hand muttered to himself. There was a mix of fear and reverence in the air.

  Frey raised his voice for all to hear: “That is a mere portion of what I am capable of, now tell me, which one of you saw my sister again?” He turned towards the farm hand, yanked the bars off his cage, and stepped in with him.

“Please, you must understand,” the man begged.

Frey grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him up to his narrowed eyes. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is my family?”

The farm hand swallowed his saliva. His entire body was shaking. “I-I don’t know. Owen threatened me like that goblin. I never saw Gwen or Arte here. I don’t know what’s going on, but please spare me hero-“

Frey hoisted him against the bars. “I am not worthy of being called that,” he hissed. “Especially when I can’t even protect my real family. Where is Owen?”

“I won’t tell anyone what I saw,” the farm hand cried. “Not one soul will know what you can do.”

“I asked you a question,” Frey spat. “Answer it! Where is Owen?”

“I overheard him saying he would meet up with the leader to discuss the other half of his payment.”

Frey let his grip slacken. ‘Which means he’s followed us into the forest,’ he thought. ‘Which means he might have found the others…no.. Not again.’