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Chapter 27: Rite of Life

There were times in your life when you knew you needed to do something, but every cell in your body screamed not to. Makadian found himself experiencing this very feeling as he stared down at the small clay jar before him, filled to the brim with a reddish-black liquid. The old Hoblin woman, Gooblis, had presented a tray with eight jars and set it before himself and his siblings. Makadian and his brothers stared at the liquid with trepidation, but the look on Idika's face was barely masked horror. As was the case most of the time, the goblin boy did not fully understand what was going on. He had arrived in this place as a small and helpless baby, with only faded memories of an unknown past in his possession, a pattern that followed all of those with Player souls.

But unlike the rest of his newfound siblings, Makadian had no desire to reclaim his memories or his old life. This new world was fascinating and exciting, what little he remembered of the life he lived before, he knew it was decidedly neither of those things. Whatever this second chance at life, rebirth and isekai were the terms that came to his mind, Makadian intended to take full advantage of it.

Being the son of a wealthy family, even if his mother would sometimes strike him or he had to do disgusting rituals, was far better than where he had been before. Memories came to him sometimes in his dreams, images of being beaten bloody by shadowy figures, meekly obeying their orders and doing their dirty work in hopes of survival. Scrounging like vermin to get by, while his tormenters lived like kings off his hard labor. No, he would not go back to that life.

Makadian stared down at the jar before him, he didn't know what it was, but he knew what he had to do. The goblin seized the jar with both hands and brought it to his lips, refusing to pause for even a moment as he poured its contents into his open mouth. He could feel his sibling's eyes on him, no doubt looking with mixtures of horror and anticipation. For a moment he thought it had been a mistake, but when he saw the hulking form of Gooblis nodding with approval, accompanied by their mother, his confidence returned.

The liquid washed over his tongue and down his throat, it was warmer than he had expected and sweet with an earthly taste he couldn't quite place. It was delicious. But the flavor of the drink was quickly overshadowed by a flurry of emotions that filled him. Deep resounding sadness, followed by a resolve so strong time itself could not break it, then a love stronger than any he had ever felt in any life. That love would do anything, sacrifice anything for the ones it belonged to. Then, just as quickly as the feelings had come, they were gone again.

Placing the now empty jar on the tray, Malkadian looked at his siblings, giving them a smug grin. At this his two brothers without Player Souls, Tamar and Inash, took up their own jars and followed his example. Finishing their drinks they looked surprised and placed the jars on the tray, Makadians smiled broadened and he motioned at the rest of his siblings.

“Come on guys, drink it! It tastes really good!” Makadian declared, the others looked hesitant. Out of the corner of his eye, Makadian noticed movement, looking he spotted a figure standing a couple of feet behind Gooblis. The figure was small and it took a moment for him to realize it was another Goblin, she looked much older than them and her head had been shaved. The look on her face was one of alarm and disgust, but Makadian couldn't understand why. He brushed off the woman, her feelings were her problem, not his. He returned his attention to his siblings.

“He's right! It tastes sweet!” Tamar agreed, trying to encourage their siblings. There was silence for a moment, then Malkadian took up his jar and drank it in one long gulp. He then reared back his head and let out strangled coughing sounds, he looked like he was trying not to throw up. The boy's eyes grew wide with shock and alarm.

“That's absolutely vile! How did you three manage to drink it with a straight face?!,” Malkadian questioned the three, the face he made seemed to be judging them and Maka felt himself bristle.

“What do you mean? It's fine! Not our fault if your tung is broken!” He spat at Malkadian before turning to the other boys. “Don't listen to him, it's good! They thought so too!” he gestured to Tamar and Inash and they nodded in agreement, although they looked a little shaken. There was silence for a moment until Drazahar spoke up.

“Well I guess I'll put myself forward to settle this,” he declared and raised his jar in a comical toast to the others, before guzzling back its contents. Almost immediately he doubled over gagging and gasping for air, the others were taken aback by his reaction, but after a moment he recovered. “Ugh, you were right! That stuff is disgusting!” he patted Malkadian on the back. “Well at least now your not suffering alone!” and the boys laughed at this. Maka felt his blood boil.

“Then both of you have mouths as perceptive as ash!” He snarled and turned to the last two boys, Tasar and Dahkan. “Don't listen to those idiots! It's good!” Maka was practically shouting and Drazahar and Malkadian glared at him. The last two boys looked uncertain, but finally, Dahkan place a hand on Tasar's shoulder.

“Come on, we'll drink it together,” he said trying to sound encouraging, Tasar looked paled and trembled some. “We need to do it,” he spoke again, his voice was lower this time and he cast a glance at the three women watching them. Tasar looked at the faces of Gooblis and Urana, clearly expectant, and he slowly nodded his head.

The two boys took up their jars and drank. More coughing and gagging followed, Tasar was practically dry heaving and the other boys had to push him to finish the contents of the jar. By the end, he was shaking and crying and still looked like he would throw up. Maka threw his hands in the air in utter frustration.

“I don't know what's wrong with all of you!” This declaration was followed by a piercing glare from Malkadian.

“There's more of us that find it sickening, so maybe there is something wrong with you!” Malkadain shot back, his voice filled with venom. Maka felt himself seething. something wrong with him? How?! It wasn't his fault they couldn't taste the difference between a good drink and piss! He needed to direct his frustration somewhere, and that was when his eyes fell on the only one left who had yet to drink, and Maka smiled.

“Well, I guess that just leaves our dear sister. But she's probably too much of a coward to try it,” He smirked and Malkadian growled at him, but he was too busy waiting for a reaction from Idika, but the girl provided none. Makadian felt his temper start to flare as he watched her while the other boys told her to ignore him, but also did their best to convince her to drink. What was her problem? It wasn't like they were drinking gutter water! He didn't know what was wrong with the others but his had tasted amazing, he already wished he had another glass. Yet the other boys were still fawning over her, trying to get her to drink as they all had.

But things with Idika were always like that, an unnecessary pain. Maka was still infuriated at her for laughing at him when he threw up on himself during the fat bath. That humiliation still burned in his mind. But it was more than that, she always ordered them around and took charge as if they had no mind or wills of their own. What was so special about her anyway?

Their mother doted on her and gave her rewards and praise, even her clothes were better. Maka had been happy with his attire when he first put it on but when he realized how much better quality Idika and Malkadian's clothes were, he felt cheated. He should have something nice like they did, he was the first to drink and got the others to do so as well! He deserved a reward!

Idika continued to stare at the jar in front of her, the other seven having been emptied to the last drop. Malkadian placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, we need to do it,” he tried to encourage her, but Idika gave him a look like she was about to cry. Urana stood stone still, eyes full of expectation, with Gooblis beside her. The old Hoblin no longer looked pleased but annoyed, her gaze was cold and sent shivers down the children's spines. Everyone was waiting for Idika to drink. But she still didn't. Gooblis made a snarling sound in the back of her throat before turning to Urana.

“Urana! One of them refuses to respect the life you are giving them!” Her gravelly voice croaked out, anger and disgust clear. “It is not too late to walk out of here with something of your own. Not just a handful of Goblin vermin and treats and clothes owned by your husband!” The old woman spat as she looked Urana up and down. Though nowhere near what she felt when the crafter had been ranked, Gooblis still had high respect for the woman.

At the old shaman's words Idika's head snapped up and her conflicted expression became stony and resolute. Without any hesitation, she grabbed the jar with one hand and tilted it back, chugging its contents until every drop was gone. She gasped out a breath and covered her mouth with her hand, clearly trying not to gag. After a moment she straightened and the jar was placed back on the tray.

“About time!” Maka said, “I'm guessing you don't have any sense of taste either?” He chided his sister and she said nothing, but the look on her face was bitter and disgusted. He couldn't understand that girl, why did she always make things so difficult? Instead, Idika took the jar in hand again and peered inside it, her face fell as she seemed to sink into the floor.

Maka was confused by his sister's reaction and took up his own jar, inspecting the inside. Squinting at the red terracotta he spotted a marking at the very bottom. It looked to be the capital letter 'T' which confused Maka as that was English, a language the Fire Mythos didn't speak. But as the goblin stared at it he realized it was not the letter 'T' just a symbol that resembled it, its base was wider like an upsidedown triangle, and the line that crossed it was thin, the ends curling in towards the base and ending in small circles.