Arvel’s dirt-stained fingers lingered on the open latch of the trunk. He curled his grip around the edges of the lid, but did not yet lift it. Staring down at the box in front of him, he began to remember things he’d long thought forgotten. He remembered his small hand inside his father’s large but gentle grasp, trembling as they looked down on this box beneath the tree. He remembered his father, who looked so huge, tall and broad-shouldered, weeping as he shoveled dirt into the hole.

“Sorry I had to do this, pa,” Arvel whispered, “I hope ma won’t mind.”

Arvel felt a cool hand touch the middle of his bare, warm back. It was Rain’s. It was not a push to urge him to act, but a soft reminder of her presence. Arvel took a deep breath, and a slow exhale, before lifting the lid slowly, its hinges creaking and screeching.

The inside of the chest had seen better days. It stank of mildew, and several items inside, like a bundled stack of letters and a silk handkerchief, had been ruined by moisture and age. Arvel reached in and picked up a cloth-wrapped bundle, carefully peeling back the fragile, half-rotted fabric to find a clay jar with a cork lid, sealed on with wax.

“Oh, hey there,” he whispered quietly, an awkward smile tugging at his lips, “Sorry I don’t visit much, ma. I kinda... didn’t know where you were at. Not that that’s a good excuse.”

He sat the jar down gingerly beside the trunk, before he continued searching its contents, laying a few more items beside the jar.

“Promise I won’t read your old love letters,” said Arvel, “Can’t imagine pa was much of a poet anyway. Hopefully I’ll getcha all put back where you can rest again soon.”

The stack of letters, wrapped in twine. A fine porcelain teacup with a rose pattern painted beneath the glaze. A silver baby spoon. A small magnifying glass on the end of a chain, that one might wear as a necklace. Carefully, Arvel set each of the items beside the jar that served as his mother’s urn, before he found a wooden box at the bottom of the trunk.

“A jewelry box?” Lunette quietly asked.

“Maybe,” said Arvel as he gingerly lifted the polished cherry wood box out. He closed the trunk so he could set the smaller jewelry box on its lid, before he opened it up.

Inside, the box was a tangle of thin chains and pendants, each of them tarnished with the passage of time. But inside were six individual rings that stood out, gleaming in the rays of daylight that danced through the oak canopy over their heads. They were made of gold and silver, each with different gems set in them, and different styles of etching and decor, but tarnish had not touched a single one of them.

“Well that’s different,” Arvel said, reaching down and picking up one of the rings, gently untangling it from the rest of the jewelry around it. He lifted the gold ring up, watching the light shine through the rich green emerald showcased in the center, surrounded by a wreath of small white pearls. The band was etched with leaves that wrapped all the way around, showing no signs of wear. Arvel’s brow furrowed and he said, “That can’t be it. You said my pa wore his ‘artifacts’ through all kinds of combat and this ain’t got one ding on it.”

“I don’t imagine it would,” said Lunette, “An item of great magical power won’t be easily susceptible to such wear and tear.”

“Like your father’s sword,” Rain added, “The sheath was falling apart, but the blade had not one bit of rust, in spite of years of being ignored.”

“Well it don’t look real magical to me,” Arvel said, putting the ring back in the jewelry box and setting it aside before beginning to pack his mother’s belongings back into the trunk.

The mood was quiet and somber as Arvel filled the trunk up once again, sans the jewelry box. The girls had expected him to be more celebrant over his discovery, but the unexpectedly solemn mood silenced them.

Arvel lifted the jar to look at it a moment, and whispered a quiet goodbye under his breath, before putting it back in the trunk and closing the lid. He moved to one side to grip the bottom corners, while Lunette grabbed the opposite handle, and they lowered it back down into the hole. Once the trunk was placed at the bottom, Arvel stood, grabbed his shovel, and began to toss dirt back on top of it.

Fidget was next to get to her feet, grabbing her shovel to help, and Lunette shortly after. Without a word, everyone returned to their tasks, shoveling or dumping buckets of dirt until the patchy ground was covered again, not only over Arvel’s mother’s trunk, but also the other holes that they had dug up throughout the day. The sun was beginning to set, and their shade had vanished, though at least the air was cooling somewhat by the time they finished.

Fidget was the first to break the silence.

“Why are you quiet?” she asked.

Lunette gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, but Fidget swatted her hand away.

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“Leave him be,” Melodia said.

“No!” Fidget said, glaring up at Melodia, then at Lunette, and shouting “You and Rain do that to make me be quiet. To not get involved. But this is weird!”

“Fidget, it might not be a good time,” Rain said quietly, “Arvel is going through a lot right now.”

“And you do nothing?!” Fidget shouted, balling up her fists, “Arvel’s going through a lot and you’re all quiet! You’re supposed to help! We’re supposed to help...”

Arvel stuck his shovel in the dirt, before walking over to Fidget. She looked up at him, and the shadow he cast over her, a look of concern on her face, before he sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around her tight. Fidget stood quietly for a moment, the tension slipping from her hands before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back.

“Guess I come off sorta’ complicated, for such a simple guy,” Arvel said quietly, “Don’t nobody know how to talk to me when I’m feelin’ like this... when I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feelin’. But it’s important that yer tryin’.”

Slowly, Rain knelt down beside them, and touched Arvel’s shoulder, before he lifted his arm and pulled her into a hug too. Lunette then knelt beside them as well, and laid her head on Arvel’s back, wrapping her arms around the group.

“I’m sorry,” Rain said quietly, “I didn’t know what to say...”

“Anything is better than nothing, it would seem,” said Lunette.

Melodia stood back, watching them all with a smirk, folding her arms.

“Funny,” the demoness remarked, “I wouldn’t have thought the goblin would be better at being ‘human’ than the human girls.”

“Being human?” Lunette asked, eyes narrow as she cast a glance over her shoulder.

“Isn’t that what you humans like to put on a pedestal?” Melodia asked, “Your empathy, your tenderness, your compassion... You even call it being ‘humane’. It seems like hubris to attach such values to humans when you so regularly fail to live up to them, doesn’t it?”

“No!” Fidget snapped, hugging Arvel tighter, “Rain and Lunette are good and kind but they get distracted with manners. Taught to talk nice before being nice... They’re a little slow but they get there.”

Rain and Lunette looked at each other, staring in shock. The idea that the ‘feral’ little goblin with the limited vocabulary had called them ‘a little slow’ came as a shock, but neither of them could find it in themselves to argue.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I feel put in my place,” Lunette said with a small smirk.

“Being nice instead of talking nice,” Rain murmured, “I’m going to have to try to remember that more often.”

Arvel petted Fidget’s hair and kissed her forehead, before saying, “Thank you, Fidge.”

Fidget smiled up at him, a big, sharp, toothy grin. But then her expression suddenly shifted to a serious one, and she said, “No changing subject! What’s wrong with you?”

Arvel’s eye twitched and he said, “Manners might get in the way a whole lot but it still ain’t nice to ask someone what’s wrong with ‘em, y’know.”

Fidget huffed and said, “Too bad.”

In the interests of making it home before dark, Arvel managed to put off Fidget’s line of questioning, at least until they were in the door. By the time they were all sitting around the table, Fidget had stopped asking and resorted to grumbling and growling through her gritted teeth.

Melodia, for whom there wasn’t a spare chair, leaned against the kitchen counter and said, “The poor little thing’s going to chip a tooth if you don’t fess up.”

“Goblin teeth ‘r a lot stronger than ya think,” said Arvel.

“Come now, Arvel,” Lunette said, “Fidget is right. We all want to help you but we can’t help until we know what’s the matter. You’ve been quiet ever since you found the jewelry box, and while I’m certain that going through your mother’s things was hard on you, it could still help for you to let us in on what you’re thinking.”

“Well that’s sorta the problem,” said Arvel, “I’m havin’ a real hard time figurin’ out what I’m thinkin’ too. It felt weird, diggin’ up ma and her things, even though I can barely remember ever havin’ known her. It felt worse because it felt like I was betrayin’ my pa, not her.”

“Betraying him?” Rain asked, surprised.

“Well he buried this stuff for a reason,” Arvel said, looking down at the jewelry box on the table in front of himself, “He didn’t want me runnin’ around tryin’ t’be the next immortal knight just like him. He buried this stuff because after ma went, because I don’t think he ever thought this world might be worth fightin’ for again.”

Rain reached across the table slowly, and touched Arvel’s wrist.

“Then don’t be the immortal knight,” she said softly, “Be the man that you want to be, and if that means you keep these things in a lockbox under the bed in case you need them to protect the people that matter to you, then you do just that.”

“Don’t fight for the world,” said Lunette, “Just fight for your world.”

Arvel didn’t react to Rain’s words, but Lunette’s made him lift his head, staring at her in surprise. His eyes were wide for a moment, before his gaze softened, and he gave her a small smile. He then looked at Rain and said, “Yeah. I don’t think pa ever could’ve guessed the kind of life I’d be livin’ right now.”

“Building a harem any stallion would be envious of?” Melodia asked with a smirk.

Rain’s face practically glowed red, and she spun around to glare at Melodia.

“What?” Melodia asked, laughing softly, “Tell me where I’m wrong.”

Arvel cleared his throat gently and said, “Well, I don’t think he ever thought his standoffish boy would have so many people he cared about protectin’, that’s fer sure.”

“So what does that mean from here?” Lunette asked.

Arvel took a deep breath, and a slow exhale, before opening the jewelry box and saying, “I guess that means I gotta learn how magic rings work.”