Mag and I retraced our steps to my dad’s unconscious body. Mag gave him a red potion, but it had no effect—his unconscious state was caused not by low HP but by Vulgra. We each grabbed a leg and dragged him behind us. We were still in need of his fighting skills and hoped he would wake up before we found ourselves in danger.
This time, when we reached the fork in the road, we took the path leading to the Kingdom of Egola. The instant we set foot on this path, massive storm clouds formed in the sky. Not a minute later, there was a gunshot of thunder, followed by heavy rainfall. It was only the early evening, but the storm clouds soon grew so thick that it felt like night was approaching. A fierce, unforgiving wind hit, and the temperature plummeted to below-freezing within seconds. The rain fell harder with each step, and the dirt path quickly turned to mud.
The once delightful grass had turned stiff and gray and looked like it would slice your finger if you touched it. We passed several bloody animal carcasses, evil clowns’ heads impaled on spikes, and other such things. The smell of blood and rotting flesh was overwhelming.
After an hour, we reached a tall, steep hill, and dragging my dad’s limp body became even more grueling.
I was faring well enough physically, aside from being soaked and nauseous. Mag, however, was in a terrible state. Even though she was stronger than me, she was having noticeably more trouble heaving my dad’s body up the hill. Her legs wobbled, and she was shivering hard. Because of her red mage class, the cold weather affected her much more severely than it affected me. It was slowly but surely draining her HP and making her feeble.
Before we reached the top of the hill, Mag’s legs finally gave up. She fell to her hands and knees and vomited violently. I knelt next to her. Her face was pale, her eyes were bloodshot, her lips were blue, and all kinds of snot ran from her nose.
I wondered if the drastic change in the weather and environment were Vulgra’s doing or just part of this game-like world. If Vulgra could hide the Butterfly Rod, then it could probably influence this world in other ways. However, it was difficult to say which enemies and obstacles we faced were created by Vulgra and which were naturally part of this world.
But the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that this sudden change in weather had to be caused by Vulgra. Vulgra knew I had decided to fight it, and it was furious that we had taken the path toward Egola Castle. And, like my dad said, when Vulgra doesn’t like something you do, it hurts you real bad.
But, if that was the case, why wasn’t I suffering? Why was it only Mag? Perhaps Vulgra was keeping me in good health for whatever it wanted to use me for. Or maybe it was using Mag to threaten me, to show me what it was capable of if I didn’t play ball.
It didn’t matter what Vulgra’s rationale was. All I cared about was Mag’s health. I convinced her to drink her green potion, which was also our very last potion, but it didn’t help.
Then I offered her my staff and told her to light it, hoping the torchlight would help keep her warm. But the instant I suggested this, there was another shot of thunder, much louder than the previous ones, and the rainfall became a torrential downpour. Mag cast Spark, but my staff was too wet to accept the flame.
I cast both Barrier and Magic Barrier on her, hoping they would stop the cold weather from draining her HP, but they didn’t. I was out of ideas after that.
“Where’s the nearest place we can find cover?” I asked.
“There’s nothing between here and Egola,” Mag said. “And it’ll take us until tomorrow to get there at the rate we’re going. I’m not going to make it.”
“We have to try.” I pulled her to her feet and picked her up in a firefighter’s carry. Since I couldn’t carry Mag and drag my dad at the same time, my dad would have to stay behind.
“No, Emerson,” Mag said. “Your dad can protect you when he wakes up. I can’t. You need to take him.”
“No. We need to get you out of this rain. If he wakes up, he’ll follow my footsteps and find us.”
Mag was too weak to argue. I could feel her cold, wet body shivering against mine. She was sneezing and coughing and vomiting everywhere. She tried to do it off to the side, but she often hit me anyway, making a mess of my robe.
She squealed frequently. She said the pain was like someone was squeezing and twisting her stomach in a vice. She begged me to make it stop.
Despite my shaky legs and the fact that this muddy hill had stolen one of my sandals, I continued climbing. But as we neared the top, I slipped. I twisted my knee and fell, dropping Mag face-first onto the ground.
I got up and grabbed her hand and pulled. She was able to sit up but was too weak to stand.
“I’m just slowing you down,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You have to let me go if you’re going save the world.”
“No, I won’t let you go. There’s no point in saving the world if you’re not going to be in it.”
Mag’s face showed a hint of a smile. “You say the nicest things sometimes.”
“Well, I really mean it. I’m not going anywhere without you.” I forced Mag to her feet and hoisted her onto my shoulders again. “If we can just get to the top of this hill, I think we’ll be okay.”
We were getting close, but now two figures stood atop the hill—two female goblins. And confusingly good-looking goblins, at that. They weren’t finger-lickin’ good-lookin’, but they were pretty damn close.
“Hey, what are they doing here?” Mag said.
“You know them?”
“They’re the bullies I told you about. Brandy and Veronica.”
As the goblins approached us, Brandy (or maybe it was Veronica; who cares?) said, “You don’t look so good.” Her voice sounded like Fran Drescher impersonating the squeakiest door in the world. And, for some reason, she projected like she was performing a play.
“No, not good at all!” Veronica said in an equally irritating and theatrical voice.
“What’s wrong?” Brandy said. “Feeling a little…” Then, in unison, both goblins said, “Under the weather?” And then they screeched with laughter and did a little choreographed dance.
I was unimpressed. “We’d like to pass through, please.”
They put their hands on their hips and repeated my sentence mockingly. “We’d like to pass through, please!”
“Quiet, you wenches, and let us through,” I said, more firmly this time.
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“Oh, no! He called us wenches!” Veronica said. She pretended to blubber onto Brandy’s shoulder as Brandy stroked her hair.
“Pay no mind to what he says,” Brandy squawked, still performing for an audience of no one. “At least you’re not such a disappointment that your dad killed himself.”
That remark angered Mag enough to give her some strength. She scrambled off my shoulders and hissed, “Take that back.” Then she went to shout ‘now!’ but threw up halfway through the word and dropped to a knee.
“Shut up, dyke!” Veronica said.
“Yeah, you ugly dyke!” Brandy added.
“Don’t call her that,” I threatened.
“Why not? We’re just being honest,” Veronica said.
“Yeah!” Brandy said, “She really is nothing but a fat, ugly dyke who no one would ever want. That’s not our fault.”
Mag glowered at them as she returned to her feet. But they weren’t threatened by her in the least. In fact, they laughed at her.
“Aww, look how tough she’s trying to look!” Veronica said.
“I know!” Brandy said. “It would almost be cute if she didn’t look like something that fell out of a garbage truck!” And that put them into another fit of shrieking laughter. Everything they said was just hilarious to them.
Mag continued staring a hole through them as she stomped toward them.
“What’s that look?” Brandy asked, amused. “ Are you trying to intimidate us? Because if you are, you’re failing miserably.”
“Yeah, not intimidating at all,” Veronica said. “She actually kinda looks the way guys look at me when they want to rip my clothes off. I think you’re turning her on, Brandy!”
“Oh my God, ew! Don’t say that!” With great insincerity, Brandy then said to Mag, “I’m flattered, but I’m not interested. It’s just that the very idea of you liking me makes me want to throw up.”
The goblins then made some retching sounds. Then they argued about which one Mag wanted to sleep with. Then they stated various long objects they wouldn’t touch her with.
Boy, are these goblins ever gonna get it good, I thought. But Mag’s anger had left her. She was just sad now. I could picture her in the school bathroom, crying, wanting to end her life. And so I started to get mad on her behalf.
“I’d rather die than go out with her,” Veronica said.
“No, don’t say that! Just think what she would do to your dead body!”
“Oh my God, you’re right! I forgot that’s the only way she can get any.”
“Well, when you’re that fat and desperate, you have to take what you can get, I guess.”
“If I were that repulsive, I think I would kill myself. I mean, why bother living if you’re too ugly to love?”
“That’s enough!” I shouted. I was so furious that my voice didn’t even sound like mine. I raised my staff to attack. It was dark again, like when I had hit Mag with it. This was good. It meant I could really hurt a bitch.
I shouted, “BLARGG!” as I swung my staff at Brandy, but she hula-danced out of the way. Then I swung at Veronica, but she dodged my strike by doing a cartwheel. I took at least a dozen vicious swings at them, but they avoided my strikes through interpretive dance, taunting me all the while.
In my rage, I didn’t notice right away when Brandy and Veronica shapeshifted into Jason and Cody. But once I did, I knew that these weren’t just any ordinary goblins. These goblins had the ability to transform into your worst bullies. And once they had shapeshifted, they replaced the dancing and cartwheeling with punching and kicking.
Soon, Cody was behind me. He restrained my arms, forcing me to drop my staff, which was even darker now. If that meant it was now more powerful, these goblins were done for if I could grab it.
I tried to free myself, but Cody was too strong. Jason punched me hard in the stomach. Before I could catch my breath, he punched me again. He continued to clobber me until my vision blurred. With each blow, my HP dropped further.
Mag staggered over and hit Jason on the back with the weakest forearm in human-goblin combat history. He backhanded her in the face without even having the decency to turn and look at her. The strike sent her reeling, and she toppled over into a deep, muddy puddle just off the path.
Cody dragged my body next to Mag’s, and the goblins held our heads down in the puddle. I splashed and thrashed about but was too weak to break free.
My lungs burned, desperate for oxygen, as my HP dwindled into single digits.
Then, from out of nowhere, I heard my dad’s battle cry of “GAAAAHHHH!!” and was released a moment later. The bastard had come to our rescue once again.
I rolled onto my back and filled my lungs with sweet oxygen. As my dad fought the goblins back, I removed Mag’s body from the puddle. She wasn’t breathing.
I wished I’d paid more attention when they taught us CPR at school. I had no idea what to do. But if I did nothing, Mag would die. So, I pinched her nose closed with one hand, formed a tight fist with the other, and hammered the crap out of her chest.
She soon coughed up the mud from her lungs. She was breathing and conscious once again.
It turns out I had gotten very lucky. I’ve done some research since, and what I had done was definitely not CPR. But it was about time something broke our way, so I’m not going to question it.
Besides, I was too angry at the time to question good fortune in any form. I was sure Vulgra had sent these goblins, meaning this was now Vulgra’s second attempt to take Mag away from me. And it was going to pay for that.
I retrieved my staff, which was now fuming with darkness. The instant it touched my fingers, an intense, raw power surged through my body. And, with that power, I was going to destroy Vulgra.
My dad had fought the goblins off the path, clearing the way for Mag and me to escape. I lifted Mag back onto my shoulders, which, owing to the energy my staff gave me, was much easier than before. I ran as quickly as I could up the hill.
But as I ran, I looked and saw my dad being walloped. The goblins had shape-shifted again. They were now my mom and me.
I came to a dead stop.
I had been so awful to my dad that he saw me as a bully. Sure, I wanted my dad to suffer, but seeing myself—or at least a goblin that looked like me—insult him and physically harm him made me more than a little disgusted with myself. The guilt expanded in my stomach until it was like I had swallowed a whole watermelon. For a split second, I wanted to save him.
But I couldn’t. This was my chance to escape and get Mag to safety. Besides, it wasn’t like I was murdering my dad. I was just leaving him for dead to save someone else. That’s acceptable, right?
My thoughts were interrupted by the goblin version of me yelling at my dad. In a voice that sounded exactly like mine, it shouted, “I hate you, you slimy, disgusting worm! You deserve eternal pain, you useless, heartless, selfish asshole!”
The watermelon was now a boulder. I had been vicious to my dad, yet here he was, risking a one-way trip to the Abyss to save me. Despite everything I had said to him, despite the irresistible evil entity in his soul, he refused to abandon me. The message he had sent to me on my birthday was right: Wild horses couldn’t drag him away.
Archie had been truthful about how much my dad loved me. And now I could feel it.
Love and regret seared my insides as the goblins beat my dad to the ground. I set Mag down and sprinted at the goblins.
They didn’t notice me approaching until it was too late. I leaped from the tall grass and swung my staff at the goblin version of myself. It connected, and the goblin’s head shattered like glass. Its limp body fell to the ground as blood gushed from its neck.
The act was not cathartic enough to quell the staff’s darkness. Its energy still pulsed through my veins. I had at least one more fatal strike in me.
I turned to face the goblin version of my mom and stared at her. She had stopped fighting my dad after seeing me destroy her son. She just stood there now, her knees shaking, her face painted with terror.
A sick smile formed on my face. “This is gonna be sweet,” I said. I savored the moment, enjoying the anticipation of finally acting out one of my dark fantasies. I brought the staff back slowly, held it there for a second, and smashed the goblin’s skull.
Exploding my mom’s head gave me a wonderful feeling, like a thousand Christmas mornings all come at once.
The wind and rain stopped. The felicity of the Great Grasslands was restored, and my staff reassumed its dull, wooden appearance. The unstoppable power was flushed from my body. The sensation was anesthetic.