A vicious pang of hunger, much fiercer than any he had experienced before, shook his body, disrupting his breathing routine and forcing his eyes open.
He was sitting on the ground, together with a dozen other goblins, their bodies forming a large circle surrounding the center of the room.
The spot where the food would appear remained impeccably clean, but so was the rest of the floor. No evidence was left of the many bloody struggles that took place there before.
It didn’t surprise him. No matter how much or how little gruel he’d manage to eat, his body would soon become overcome with a peculiar weakness, forcing him into a dreamless sleep. And when he woke up, his injuries would be healed and all the blood that was spilled would be gone.
Along with the filth, the corpses of his fallen brethren would similarly disappear, but the greatest harvest would be reaped among the living. Those that hadn’t managed to reach the trough.
They’d disappear one by one.
For some time, he’d wake up to the noise of high pitched whines and whimpers.
Then, their cries would fall silent, but still more goblins would continue to disappear.
This made the previously cramped room feel progressively larger and more oppressive, but it wasn’t in search of comfort that they sat together in such a manner.
Although the first time the troughs appeared, they faced a scrambled melee, the subsequent battles became more and more organized.
The chaos of their initial fight evolved into group combat, with several teams contending for each trough, and this time they’d face off against a single enemy.
He eyed the goblin sitting by his side.
They could of course fight right now, but that would mean they’d be forced to face yet another opponent when the troughs finally appeared. Somehow, the fights were controlled. They could feel it instinctively.
His opponent sat on the ground. The creature’s head hung from its dropped shoulders, bopping left to right in a steady rhythm. He could hear the harsh sound of its heavy breathing. The eyes of the goblin were glued to the empty spot at the center of the room as if nothing else existed in the world.
That didn’t mean the goblin was weak.
Except for him, there weren’t any other goblins that didn’t reveal the heavy price their hunger was exacting on them.
He closed his eyes again. He hoped that the next time he opened them, the food would appear.
It did.
The goblin he eyed previously rushed at him, its face contorted in a vicious snarl.
He took a step back and slightly bent his knees, assuming a defensive stance.
Somehow, the other goblins seemed incapable of deliberately inflicting mortal wounds.
Though it did not make the fights necessarily easy.
He sidestepped the goblin charging at him and swiped his claws at its throat.
The goblin deftly turned its body, protecting its vitals, and counterattacked with a savage hit to the face.
He took a step back, ignoring the rivulets of fresh blood seeping from the cut on his brow.
Although the other goblins wouldn’t directly attack his vitals, aiming instead to overwhelm their opponent with superior strength, it did not mean they did not know how to fight.
In fact, he noticed that with every subsequent battle, their prowess steadily improved, and even the goblins that he never fought against would instinctively predict his attacks and guard their vital points.
He ducked under another swipe that was aimed at his eye. From his lower position, he delivered a punch to his foe’s unprotected abdomen.
The goblin whined, but its form didn’t collapse, instead it took a few steps back, and after catching its breath, it charged at him again.
Its eyes were shrouded with madness and bloodlust.
And so were his.
He let the goblin’s body slam into his and they both tumbled to the ground.
Their skin, already sleek with blood, grew even slicker as the two goblins started carving gruesome wounds on each other’s bodies.
Finally, he found an opportunity, and sunk his teeth into the unprotected throat of his enemy.
Hot blood poured down his throat, but knowing it wouldn’t sate his hunger, he spat it out.
He stood up unsteadily, not sparing a single glance to the goblin left bleeding out on the floor. The bloodlust had already left its eyes, and it just laid on the ground, its blank eyes still drawn towards the trough, the mouth opening and closing.
He walked to the center of the room.
Only a single trough appeared this time and it wasn’t even half full. He sat beside it and started eating.
Soon, five other goblins joined him.
The sound of slurping and gulping echoed dully within the room, until the last drop of gruel was consumed and the image of the trough began to dissipate.
The goblins returned to their spots and sat in the dark room in silence.
[...]
He saw a great light.
It consumed his whole field of vision.
The light danced, its shape undergoing innumerable transformations. Countless tendrils rose from its main body, twirling and curling, soaring so high as to disappear, only to be instantly reborn and fly off again, their wispy bodies brimming with endless vitality and exuberance.
Wherever the light deigned to be its domain, the shadows retreated, to be replaced by a magnificence of colour he never thought possible.
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A word surfaced in his mind.
Fire.
Strings of bizarre symbols appeared in the corner of his vision.
He was in a massive hall, together with what looked like hundreds of his kin, far more than he had ever seen before, more than he saw on that day when he first opened his eyes.
A magnificent goblin clad in white robes stood in front of them. His hands moved rapidly, seamlessly executing long sequences of intricate gestures.
But none of that or even the question of how he appeared here was present in his mind.
His eyes saw nothing but the fire.
He could feel its heat. It was completely different from the feverish madness of combat or the deceptive warmth of gruel that offered you comfort only to leave you feeling colder than ever before.
The goblin extended his arms and, as if obeying his will, the flames rose into the air, their wispy tongues almost reaching the ceiling. They were about to burn away the eternal darkness shrouding its top, but then the goblin abruptly lowered his hands, and the flames followed - they broke apart into several serpentine chains that revolved around the goblin’s body until finally coalescing into a brilliant ball of light that rested gently atop his upturned palm.
Only then did his attention move to the goblin.
The goblin projected an air of majesty that didn’t seem possible for a member of his race.
He stood tall, his clear eyes calmly stared at the sea of hunched creatures surrounding him from all sides. The white robes hid his physique, but it was clear that it bore little resemblance to that of his kin. His aura revealed a kind of unassumed energy that a flesh stretched over bones wouldn’t be able to produce.
“I am your Chief,” the goblin announced in a booming voice.
“Chief!” he and the other goblins bellowed in response. He suddenly realised he was speaking, the knowledge of language appearing in his mind as if it was there all along.
“I carry the memories of our tribe,” the goblin continued.
“Chief carries the memories!”
Every time the goblin spoke, the ball of light atop his palm lit up in a flash, drowning out all the surroundings except for the figure of their chief.
“We are the children of the dungeon. We are its servants and protectors.”
“We are children. We are servants and protectors,” the goblins chanted in unison. He felt shivers running down his spine. It was as if some missing piece he could never find finally clicked into place, making him feel complete.
“This is our mission. And when we fulfill it…”
The goblin let the silence hang in the air, as the ball of fire atop his palm pulsed in a mesmerizing light.
“We shall be free!”
As his last word resounded in the great hall, the ball of flame flew from his palm high into the air, its size expanding, until it burst in an explosion of colours, baptizing them in a storm of scalding sparks.
“You have been deemed worthy to serve the dungeon! Worthy to become members of our tribe!” the chief roared.
“In praise of that, this day only, you shall not feel hunger!”
Goblins stared dumbfounded at their chief and then at each other, unable to comprehend the meaning of the words they just heard. It took a long moment before they calmed down and closed their eyes, trying to sense any changes within their bodies.
When they realized that their hunger, the first sensation they felt since they were born, and that accompanied them ever since, was absent, they froze. And when the comprehension finally dawned on them, they broke out in an uproar of jubilant cries.
Goblins jumped around and shouted frantically, their small bodies unable to contain the joy they were experiencing.
He just stood there, his hands inspecting his stomach in a daze, as if it was some foreign object.
When he finally came to terms with what was happening, his mouth stretched out in a massive grin and a strange noise escaped his mouth.
I am... laughing? He thought, as another foreign word surfaced in his mind.
He took a large breath and roared with laughter, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. He joined the other goblins jumping around the great fire, he hooted and shouted, dancing with his kin, dancing with the flames, overwhelmed with a sense of euphoria.
His muscles, which remained in a state of constant tension since the moment he had awoken, started to relax.
“Hail to the Chief!” one of the dancing goblins shouted.
Other goblins quickly picked up the chant and repeated after him,
“Hail to the Chief!”
“Hail to the Chief!”
The fire seemed to respond to their energy. It grew larger and fiercer, its flames rising high into the air, till its ends disappeared in the darkness shrouding the concave ceiling. It bathed the goblins in its warmth, washing away the cold of the prison they were born in.
He stared at the multitude of rapturous faces around him, and realized that the faces were gazing back at him.
The goblins that were never able to see anything but the center of the room where the troughs would appear had for the first time become able to see each other.
He discovered that where he previously saw uniform, dull faces, he could now see a plethora of features. Eyes shining brilliantly, and those that remained half closed even now. Noses long and short. Even smiles transformed each face in a different, unique way.
He spotted a certain goblin in the midst of the crowd and rushed to him, pushing through the dancing crowd.
He pointed his finger at him and shouted,
“You! I know you!”
It was the goblin that growled at him when he moved closer to the gate, the first day that they awoke.
The goblin looked back at him and a flicker of recognition ran past his eyes. His face broadened in a smile and he shouted as well,
“Yes! I know you! I know you!”
They jumped into each other’s arms and started jumping in unison, their jubilant voices rising even above the general uproar filling the great hall.
Other goblins discovered what they were doing and also sought out familiar faces in the crowd.
Soon, the massive mob separated into several dozen small groups. The goblins that used to be scarcely aware of anything beyond their hunger, had now embraced each other, their hands reaching for the faces of their comrades, and wide smiles blossoming on their lips as they saw recognition in the other’s eyes.
Together, they danced around the blazing pyre.
It was impossible to say how long the celebration lasted. They danced till their lungs burned and muscles screamed. And then they danced some more. They danced till they burnt away every last drop of fear, pain, and desperation from their bodies.
He collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.
His body was completely exhausted, begging for mercy, and he couldn’t help but savor the sensation. His previous self, loath of even taking a few steps without a purpose, would never understand how wonderful the feeling of completely tiring yourself out could be.
The chief observed the celebrations with a smile. He seemed satisfied with just standing to the side, and not taking any part himself. When he noticed that the party was dying out, he controlled the flames again. The fire produced a brilliant flash of light, and then coalesced again into a small ball floating above his palm.
He waited until the attention of the goblins became focused on his person and said, “today, you have tasted freedom.”
“Freedom!” the goblins bellowed.
The chief waited for the raucous shouts to die out and continued, “tomorrow, you will have to face your hunger again.”
This time, his words were met with silence.
“You won’t see the light,” the Chief continued in a solemn tone, “and will suffer hunger that can never be sated.”
The ball of light in his palm grew steadily dimmer, instead of banishing shadows, it now seemed to summon them. Darkness encroached from all sides, transforming the vibrant colors into shades of grey.
The light continued to retreat until there was only a single flicker left. It rested on the Chief’s palm, its unsteady flame highlighting his sharp features, making him look like a solitary lighthouse on a moonless night.
“When shall we experience freedom again?” he asked in a soft voice.
“When we fulfil our mission…” the voices murmured in reply.
“What is our mission?” the Chief asked.
“To defend the dungeon.”
The Chief tightened his fist, killing the last flickering spark of light.
The goblins laid on the ground. Though the euphoria they just experienced had been snuffed out, they didn’t fall to despair.
In their hearts, they repeated the words of their Chief like a mantra.
“Defend the dungeon. Complete our mission.”
“Defend the dungeon. Complete our mission.”
He silently mouthed the words of his Chief as well. They brought him comfort. For the very first time since he had awakened in the dungeon, he didn’t need to do his breathing exercises to fall asleep.