Ratface left the aid area once she got herself under control. There was already a lot of people helping and she was basically in the way.

She found herself a little corner to cry in. When she’d been younger, she’d been embarrassed to cry. The other goblin children had told her that goblins didn’t have time to cry. It’d been her mother to set her straight.

“That’s stupid,” Bearclaw said. She’d sat with a younger Ratface and stroked her head. “I cry whenever I lose a goblin in a raid. They’re my people. How are they meant to follow me if I don’t feel?” She’d stayed with Ratface until she’d stopped crying to drive home the importance of making time to do so.

Ratface wasn’t ever going to see her again.

A new wave of grief washed over Ratface, and she curled up as it smashed into her. She felt like her whole world had disappeared today. The knowledge it had been gone for so long before then made it worse, not better. The other goblin kids might be alive, but she had no way of finding them. It was hard to feel hopeful when Krysa, her last connection she had to her mother right now, was dying. It was a complicated feeling, to want the glamour keeping a memory from her to live. She didn’t fight it though.

She wanted to be with her friends, but Tiffany and Albert were still dealing with the last of the monsters, while Suncat had been sent to help with aid. Right at this moment she’d be a burden to them.

Slow, exhausted footsteps made Ratface look up. Dirthand stood next to her. She leaned against the wall and slid down until she was on the floor as well.

“You don’t look like someone who just beat an elf,” said Dirthand.

Ratface wiped her face, but didn’t hide that she’d been crying. She wouldn’t disrespect her mother like that.

“It came with a cost,” she said.

“It always does,” said Dirthand. She wasn’t dismissive so long as resigned. Ratface had yet to meet a goblin that didn’t understand sacrifice, maybe it was what made them so good with demon magic. They sat in silence for a bit. Ratface felt her thoughts spiralling ever further. As a rat, she knew she should be helping but it was all she could do to sit there.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said at last. Dirthand scrabbled her hands though her hair. The older goblin looked so tired. Ratface wondered if she’d look that tired at that age.

“Rabbittail lived,” Dirthand said. Ratface raised her head as the other goblin continued. “He shouldn’t have, Claudette came by and gave him some blood but told me it wouldn’t be enough. I stayed with him the whole time; I should have been helping but it felt wrong you know? He saved me and I just wished he’d survive. Never expected him to do so.”

“Is he awake?” asked Ratface. Dirthand gave her a wry smile.

“He was, insisted I reminded him he needed tell me something then fell back asleep. Should’ve been resting instead of using me as a reminder, but I guess it let me know he was okay.”

Ratface looked at the wall ahead of them. It was well built, and only now did she realise it must have been built from the forest they were in. It had a faint red sheen to it. Everything in this forest leaned on each other.

“I have a glamour in my head,” said Ratface. She went on before Dirthand could interrupt her, “it’s dying, which is good because I’ll get a memory back, but it also saved me. I know it’s an enemy, but I don’t know. Abigail said we can’t help her.”

Dirthand was silent for a while. She rubbed at her hands absentmindedly, the movements reminiscent of replotting a plant.

“When she said we, did she mean you? Or her and someone else?”

“Why?”

Dirthand shrugged.

“I heard you got Suncat to help you with your pet rat, managed to turn him into a little rat boy. Today I saw you beat an elf.”

“Abigail killed her,” interrupted Ratface. Dirthand snorted.

“Yeah. Yet it was a child who stalled her long enough for her to get here.”

“What’s your point?” Ratface asked. Dirthand shrugged again.

“Rabbittail survived. Seems like lately goblins have been doing the impossible. You most of all.” She looked over at Ratface. “I don’t mean to give you false hope, could be I’m just too optimistic even in my old age. I just see a girl who’s lived up to her name as a rat and I think, ‘if any girl can do something, it’ll be her’.”

Some small part of Ratface smiled at that. It was like her mother putting her hopes into her with her final moments. She’d smiled when she sent her away.

Ratface paused. Wait, that was right, her mother had sent her away. She’d done magic! Ratface had seen her do it. Hope blossomed in Ratface’s chest as little pieces of a plan formed in her head. She looked over at Dirthand.

“We need to have a goblin party tonight,” she told the older woman. Suddenly she was restless.

“Got a plan, do we? Who am I inviting?”

“Everyone.”

“Even the half-elf girl?”

“I mean everyone,” said Ratface. She stood up and rushed to find Albert and Tiffany. They’d have to get rid of the remaining monsters if this was going to work so she’d have to work hard. She ran off to go help them. They had a chance to do something. Something only a goblin could do.