“They want you to speak to the king?” Cyrus says thoughtfully. “The princess going behind the back of her own father.”

“I don’t think she’d put it that way,” I say.

Cyrus chuckles. “No, I’m sure she wouldn’t.”

I’m back in my quarters, and so are my companions. Cyrus said the tour was pleasant enough but significantly less so when they discovered what they’d missed out on. It’s funny how people dislike the ‘cloak-and-dagger’ politics but still complain when they’re not a part of it.

They want to be in the room where it happens.

“It’s too risky,” says the elf. “We don’t get anything out of defying the king.”

“Do we get anything out of the goblins losing?” I ask. “Do you think the orcs will just let us waltz into the tower of magi after they’ve dispatched the goblins?”

Myrus sighs. “You don’t know that will happen.”

“Of course I don’t. I don’t know that they’ll win either. We’re working with imperfect information.”

“Indeed,” Cyrus chimes in. “Such is life I’m afraid.”

“What?” says an exasperated elf. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I only noted the situation. The girl is indeed working against the will of her father. That doesn’t mean I’ve picked a side.”

“Well, what do you think then?”

I raise my hand to cut off discussion. “Respectfully, I’ve already decided. I’ve committed us to the cause.”

Myran starts to speak but I cut him off.

“And I also made it clear that if the king rejects our request that is the end of it. There will be no mutiny or crazy coup. This is just one more suggestion for his majesty. Nothing more.”

Myran grumbles a little. “Well I guess ok.”

“It’s more than ok,” I insist. “It’s my decision.”

Myran takes a deep breath. “Understood. I didn’t mean to come off as…insubordinate myself. I just want the best for the quest.”

“As do we all,” Cyrus adds. “No one here doubts your commitment Myran. Least of all I.”

Myran nods at the cleric. “Thank you , Cyrus. I appreciate it.”

“And one more thing to consider,” I say. “Is that it’s not just about our quest, or at least not our immediate quest.”

Cyrus and Myran both look at me, waiting.

“We’re here to stop evil: the sorceress. But there is more than one evil in this world and while we cannot cleanse the word from it we can do what we can. The orcs are threatening the goblins and we’ve already fought them, we’ve had a taste. Is that the kind of creature we want ruling these mountains? Is that the sort of thing the goblins should fight alone?”

Myran looks down uneasily and Cyrus strokes his chin.

“We’re doing this because it’s the right thing to do,” I conclude.

Myran shrugs. “Alright. Alright. I suppose you’re right. At least orc blood isn’t green. And I won’t hear anymore voices in my head.”

“Only the voice of your own conscience, friend,” says Cyrus. “I, for one, am glad the chosen one made the right decision.”

“Right decision?” I ask. “But you didn't even express an opinion.”

Cyrus’s hand remains on his chin. “That’s true. I wanted you to come the truth by yourself. And it turns out you already did. So you proved me right even before I knew it.”

The cleric laughs but Myran and I only look at each other in frustration.

Yes, Cyrus is a little condescending at times.

“So what’ our next steps,” Myran asks.

I point to the beds. “Just that. The princess and I will go to his Majesty tomorrow. So all we have to do now is lay down and sleep.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Sounds good to me,” Myran replies. “I’d hate to fight without my beauty rest.”

After some brief preparations we all hunker down for the night. One day I’m going to figure out what people in this land use for a toothbrush. I used to always brush my teeth before bed and now I just pick at them with a toothpick.

Toothpicks. The bristles of Astria. Now I just need to find an herb to replace the fluoride.

Our room is pitch black with the torches out. It doesn't bother me though. I like the darkness when I’m trying to sleep. I had blackout curtains in my room on Earth. That way the early rays of sun couldn’t slip between blinds or under window slits and wake me up too early in the morning. Of course before worrying about that it’s important to get to sleep in the first place, and I’m struggling with that task right now (again).

This better not become a habit.

I toss and turn on top of the sheets while my mind projects unbidden images before my closed eyes. I keep seeing the goblins in the hospital. I see them cry, watch them bleed, hear them…scream. Yes, I felled the husks in the Elderwood and experienced the onslaught of lizards when I first came through the portal, but to see a hospital like that, with such a concentration of suffering and death before me, well it’s…unnerving.

I toss off my sheets. I know my insomnia well enough to understand there’s no sense in just lying here torturing myself. Quietly, I light a small candle and I make my way back to the table to sip some cold tea. It’s not much, but it tastes like citrus and it helps take my mind off my mind.

Now’s when I miss my PC. I wonder if anyone still plays Star Wars Battleground.

“You did the right thing,” the sudden noise startles me, but the words are soft, comforting even.

I spin in my seat and see Angel glowing softly beside me. She’s not sitting exactly, more like shimmering over the seat next to me.

“Oh,” I manage. “Hello.”

“Hello,” she responds. She appears as a simple girl per usual but her eyes are still as deep as the ocean, and they sparkle like the stars.

“You seem like you’re having trouble sleeping,” she says. “I thought I could help.”

“Really? You have some magic angel dust for me?”

She smiles. “Unfortunately no. Only fairies carry actual dust.”

I pause a moment. “Wait. Are you serious?”

She shrugs. “I guess you’ll never know.”

“Wait. What? Are you teasing me?”

Her eyes sparkle.

“You are teasing me!”

“Shh!” Angel says. “You’ll wake the others. They can’t hear me but they’ll definitely hear that.”

As if on queue Myran starts rolling around in his bead. “No…mommy… no more…turnips.” Then falls back to sleep.

Turnips? What the hell?

“You made the right decision,” says Angel again. “Siding with the princess.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Great. So we’ll convince her father then?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that.”

“What? Yes you did.”

Angel tilts her head sympathetically. “Ethan, just because you did the right thing doesn’t mean it will work out. Sometimes you do the right thing and it doesn't work out. At least not immediately, or in the way you thought it would”

I scrunch my brows. “So he won’t agree then?”

Angel chuckles a little. “I don’t know what he’ll do, Ethan. I’m not omniscient, remember?”

I sigh. “At least you're honest. More than I can say for the demon.”

Angel’s face darkens. “Yes, as I said, she is a liar.”

“She lied to the sorceress too,” I say. “I saw it in a vision. She told Lillian that she was the chosen one.”

Angel’s eyes widen. “Did she? I guess that would make sense. It’s hard to do what Lillian did. Kill so many, fall so far. To be that bad you must really believe you’re special.”

I grow silent, an uncomfortable thought coming to me.

“Just say it,” Angel says.

I squirm uncomfortably. “Say what?”

Angel tilts her head again, trying to meet my eyes. “If you can’t trust your guardian angel who can you trust?”

“But that’s just it. What if you’re not who you say you are.? What I’m not who I say I am? What if…”

“You’re like Lillian,” Angel says, completing the thought for me.

I nod.

“That’s why it’s important to help the goblins. That’s why it’s important to do the right thing. Because the temptation is to subvert everything else to your quest. Be like the sorceress and sacrifice it all. Betray your beliefs, your principles, your friends, do anything it takes to find the towers and defeat the sorceress. But if you do such a thing what would that make you?”

I scoff. “What’s that?”

“It would just make you her. And then neither of you would be the Maker’s chosen. Because the Maker would never pick someone like that.”

I’m silent for a minute, thinking. I look her in the eye. “What about the goblins then? They serve the Maker and pray more than any other race. The king was glad to help me reach the Tower of the Magi. Why won’t the Maker choose to save them?”

“But the Maker has helped his goblins, Ethan?”

I jerk back. “What? How?”

“He sent them you.”

“Me?”

“And that,” says Angel. “Is a great gift indeed. At least in my book.”

“Thanks,” I say numbly. Somehow feeling both awkward and embarrassed.

“Now why not try sleeping again? I think it’ll be better this time.” Angel says. “I’ll even take the first watch.”

I snort. “Angel, that was almost funny.”

“You see, I‘m getting a little better every day.”

I’ll give her that much I guess. And maybe a little bit more, as I do get to sleep, just as she said I would.