She had made a mistake—a monumental, life-altering mistake. She never should have listened to Orion, that hot-headed fool, when he said it would be an easy job. “We’ll be back in a week!” he had promised with his cocky grin. “Between me and Elric, we’ll smoke those gobs out in no time.” And like an idiot, she had believed him.
Now Orion was dead, and she was stuck in this hellhole, waiting for her turn.
The cave had swallowed them almost as soon as they’d stepped inside. They hadn’t been ready—not for the suffocating darkness, not for the traps. They hadn’t anticipated being hunted by creatures that thrived in the black, their eyes cutting through the shadows like daylight.
Elric, the pompous mage, had been flaunting his magic, a little floating fireball hovering in his palm as they descended. He thought it would impress her. She wished it had been enough to scare the goblins off. But it wasn’t. If anything, it painted a target on him.
The first sign that they weren’t alone came when a child-sized spear silently pierced Elric’s leg, sprouting from the back of his knee like some grotesque flower. He screamed, the sound echoing off the damp cave walls, and Orion, true to form, rushed to protect his friend.
That was his mistake.
He never saw the blade coming.
But she did.
She had a perfect view from where she was pummeling those nasty little gobs, as the blade plunged into Orion’s back. Slicing through muscle and bone.
He collapsed in a heap, blood pooling beneath him. At that moment, she was alone against the horde and her fate seemed sealed. She’d heard the stories. Everyone had. Goblins didn’t just kill you. They liked to play with their food first. Their captives, the ones left alive, were always worse off than the dead.
When the world tilted and her vision darkened, she felt a grim, bitter gratitude. Thank the gods I don’t have to witness whatever comes next.
–0–
That was three weeks ago.
Now, every time she woke up, she cursed those same gods she’d once thanked. She hated waking up—because every time she did, she was still here, still inside this cage, rendered powerless by some formation on the ceiling of the chamber they had trapped her in.
They hadn’t laid a finger on her, and for that, she was supposed to be grateful. But what kind of life was this?
She wasn’t alone. Dozens of women and children crammed into iron cages, piled on top of one another like livestock. The stench of sweat, fear, and filth hung in the air. At first, she had gagged on the stench, but after a few days, it became strangely comforting. These people had survived for weeks—months, some of them. And as long as they were still breathing, it meant there was hope for her too.
Hope. That had become a double-edged sword.
She’d started counting the nights, clinging to the belief that the quest timer would run out. The guild would have to send reinforcements, wouldn’t they? They’d send someone once they realized Orion’s party hadn’t returned. She just had to stay alive long enough.
Each night, she heard the goblins scuttling around, grumbling at each other in their guttural tongue, fighting each other over scraps. The entire first week of her imprisonment she lived in a constant state of low anxiety. The sounds of the disgusting creatures moving through the walls surrounded her at all hours. Her sensitive ears had become a curse instead of the blessing they were meant to be.
The only way she was able to discern the passage of time was when the meals were brought in. Those were the only times she actually saw her captors. They would send in a singular, elderly gob to come in and administer the slop to all the cages. She’d never even heard of an old goblin.
Their strange behavior only served to unnerve her ever more as the days slipped by.
But something changed sometime in the last week or so, the traffic in the tunnels started to taper off sharply at certain times of day and one night she realized that the goblins must be leaving, off to raid nearby farmsteads or solo travelers, seeking more captives, more food. They always returned with something—or someone. She had stopped asking questions when they’d dragged a screaming farmer into the dungeon. The screams echoed in her ears for days.
She hadn’t seen any of her other captors since the first day. None of them dared come near her or the other prisoners. It was strange. They crammed them into these cells, kept them alive, but never touched them. Never spoke to them. It was like they were waiting for something. But for what? The fates her mind conjured up became progressively worse and worse. Beyond anything else, it was the lack of knowledge that ate at her daily.
She tried to keep a strong facade for the others; she’d told them about the quest and the timer. How surely, help would be on the way soon. Few of the eyes looking back at her when she said that seemed to believe her, and she couldn't blame them. She hardly believed them herself.
Her thoughts churned as she curled into herself, pressing her back against the cold, damp iron bars. She was running out of time, out of hope. She just had to pray to those same gods she woke up cursing every day that whatever the goblins were waiting for wouldn’t arrive before the salvation that she wasn't even sure was coming at all.
–0–
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And then, on the twenty-first night, something changed.
The air shifted.
It was subtle at first—just a few distant rumbles, little tremors reverberating through the ground like during a storm. But it wasn’t thunder. It was something else. Something far worse.
The goblins were agitated, their usually quiet voices raised in frantic conversation. She heard the clinking and clacking of their crude weapons as they scrambled out of the main nest faster than usual. But they weren’t going on a raid. They were preparing for something different. Something bigger.
She pressed her face against the bars, her heart hammering in her chest. The distant sound grew louder—a roar. Shouts. Battle cries.
Something's coming. The thought was troubling.
Could it be the reinforcements? Had the guild finally sent help? Or had the gob’s master finally arrived?
The prisoners around her began to stir, sensing the same thing. Some whimpered, others cried. A few whispered desperate prayers to any gods that might still be listening.
She felt her pulse quicken. Could it be real? Could this nightmare finally be over?
But just as quickly as the hope sparked in her chest, doubt crept in. She had been here for too long. Maybe it was just another raid. Maybe the goblins had finally decided to—
The heavy slabs of carved stone that were being used as the barrier to their escape were suddenly pulverized in an explosion of dust.
The prisoners in the cages felt their hearts seize in fear and anxiety, clutching the rusted iron bars of their cages. Every breath felt like an eternity as the smoke hung thick, hiding and holding the promise of either certain doom or salvation.
—-----0—------------------
When the dust finally settled, six strangers stood before them, silhouetted in the dim torchlight. Hope flickered, tentative at first, but it grew as the realization dawned—humans. Not Goblins. Salvation.
Merissa’s eyes quickly found one of the men who had stepped forward and seemed to be scanning the prisoners, his sharp gaze moving from face to face. His gaze seemed to linger when she met his eyes, but he moved on after a heartbeat. He spoke then, his voice carrying an air of authority as he addressed the huddled captives.
“I was only contracted to find Miss Melina’s sister, but even if none of you are her, I’m sure you want to get out of here as much as I do. If any one of you IS the young lady in question, please find me once we're in a safe place. Right now we're gonna get out of here.”
Merissa’s heart stuttered in her chest. Melina? Her sister? That couldn’t be right. Melina was supposed to be safe back in the capital, under the thumb of the family. She was incredibly late for their lunch date true, but surely, she couldn’t have hired a team of adventurers to come all this way just for her, right? The cost would be astronomical, even for their family.
Her mind raced, trying to process the possibility, the sliver of hope that began to bloom within her. Could it really be?
But while Merissa grappled with her disbelief, the other prisoners wasted no time. They surged forward against the bars of their cells, clamoring to be set free, their desperation erupting in a chaotic chorus of pleas.
The group of five adventurers who had come with the man moved swiftly, cutting through the iron locks with sheer force after realizing many of their magical abilities were suppressed in the room, freeing the prisoners in a blink. Months of repressed panic and terror escaped like steam from a boiling pot, as the captives stumbled out of their cages, fear and excitement battling for dominance on their weary faces.
The lead man clapped his hands, commanding their attention once more.
“Alright, folks, settle down! My name is Rick, and we’re going to get you out of here. But we need to be careful. There could still be gobs around. My friends will both lead and follow behind you. You’ll all go in the middle. We’ll burn this place to ash behind us, so make sure no one gets left behind. Everyone understand?”
The crowd, too exhausted and hopeful to argue, nodded silently, many already tearing up with gratitude. Rick clapped his hands—seemed to do that often—and with a nod to his team, they began to move.
The journey out of the cave was harrowing. The adventurers had expected resistance, perhaps another wave of goblin ambushes or traps. But there were none. The only thing they found was death—the bodies of slain goblins littered the tunnels, the result of Rick’s team’s earlier assault.
There was a grim satisfaction in Merissa’s heart as she passed the fallen creatures. She wasn’t usually vengeful, but tonight, the heat of the fires licking at her back brought a feeling of justice. Vengeance for all the terror and pain they had endured.
By the time they reached the mouth of the cave, the flames had nearly caught up with them, roaring behind as they spilled out onto the open mountainside. A thick column of smoke billowed out of the cave, carrying the stench of ash and burnt flesh.
The wind hit her face, cool and clean, and Merissa inhaled deeply, almost choking on the tears that welled up in her throat. She lifted her eyes to the full moon hanging high above, marveling at the sight of it—the simple beauty of the night sky, something she feared she’d never see again.
Her chest tightened, and then the tears flowed freely, running down her dirt-streaked cheeks. She thought she would never feel the wind again, never see the stars, never reunite with her sister, the only person who had cared enough to come looking for her.
Around her, the other prisoners wept too—tears of joy, of relief. After months in the dark, they were finally free.
–0–
The captives’ moment of peace was brief. Rick clapped his hands once more, his voice cutting through the quiet night:
“Alright, everyone. I know you’re relieved, but we need to keep moving. We don’t want any stragglers catching up to us. We’ll head to Leredin. It’s a bit of a walk, but it's safe, and I personally guarantee your protection through the forest if you stick with us. Same deal as before—my team will cover you, so stick together. If you want to leave on your own, you’re free to go, but we can get you food, water, and medical attention if you come with us.”
No one wanted to risk the forest alone. They nodded, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth if it meant safety. So they began their long march to their final salvation.