Raz used the thick splinter-like nails on his right hand to pick at the top of his pointy elongated ear. It felt hard and dry, lacking all sensation. This was not good. It was supposed to be green and soft and full of life, not brown, desiccated and brittle. Tiny drops of sweat developed above his hairless eyebrows, he should have never placed his trust in Grigri. She always liked him the least out of his twenty-six siblings and now she finally had her chance to get back at him for stealing those cookies last Mossfest.

The room was dimly lit by semi-permanent oil burners. The flicker of the flames threw shadows in every direction, almost feeling alive because of the way the large and small tree roots poked through the damp earthen walls. The shelves of glassware filled with organic samples cast shapes that often reminded Raz of swamp ghouls.

Paranoia set in as Raz’s mind raced. Grigri must have known he was going to sneak in and grab the poultice, she must have known and swapped it! May the Ogre Queen eat her brains, silly crone with her all-knowing sixth sense! Either that, or Dunkblat had betrayed him and made a deal with Grigri, his best friend was a greedy mocking greenskin, he’s probably a coin or two richer by now.

The most important thing at this moment, was to get out unseen. His siblings had always called him clumsy, but it wasn’t his fault he had larger feet than everyone else. He could be stealthy when he chose to be and he could definitely make his way out of this underground alchemy lab his grigri called a kitchen.

Raz stepped over a fallen pot, jumped over a wooden stool and made his way up the first flight of stairs. He peeked his head around the corner and right away the scent of Grigri’s sweet mushroom cake hit his nostrils. “When did she make this?” he thought. His mind wandered and he envisaged his assassin-like stealth maneuvers take him up to the cake and snatch it. He would sneak to the crawl space under the firewood storage munching away in delight. It was the perfect crime.

“Raz’taz Ereblat! What on earth are you skulking around for!”, bellowed a sharp, grating voice. Raz’ heart skipped a beat and he involuntarily jumped backward. He cupped his dried-out ear with both hands trying to hide what he’d done, Grigri could not find out. He stepped back, but his right foot failed to find purchase on the steps behind him. A rough tumble down the wooden staircase later Raz found himself on his rear, back in the kitchen. In his lap he held a brown, paper-like, veiny ear and was certain he’d sport a set of nasty bruises on his arms and legs.

It had been an hour since his fall, but Raz’s head-ache had hardly faded. He looked at his ear on the dining table in front of him. It resembled a Mossfest ornament, ready to be hung above the fireplace to decorate the home with the rest of the dried herbs. This was one of those moments where one contemplated important life decisions, like trying to stop his ear from behaving like a floppy rag.

Though happy that he could still hear, Raz felt a pang in his chest, he wouldn’t be able to get his ceremonial ear-chain next year. That, and he could never show himself again to… “Ahem!” a booming voice interrupted Raz’s thoughts.

His eyes darted to his parents, sitting opposite him with a scowl on their face and drooping shoulders. His father always liked a dramatic opener. He knew the looks well enough, this wasn’t his first scolding, nor would it be his last.

Grigri was nowhere to be seen though, and that was far more scary. With her one-toothed smile and kind eyes, plotting away behind the mask of love. But Raz knew better, he knew the truth.

Raz rubbed his now naked earhole when his father spoke: “Why by the Dawnling’s light would you cover your ear in glowfly goop Raz?”. Raz knew it wasn’t really a question, they wouldn’t understand anyway. “I don’t know how to fix this, we can’t fix this. Your ear is gone Raz, you look…”, his father held back his words, but Raz could guess them. Raz glanced at his mother. She stared at him, an uncomfortable silence followed and seconds felt like minutes. She stood up, picked up the staff she had placed against the door frame, and walked out.

The staff was the same height as her and was made from thick pitch-black hardwood, though Raz didn’t know exactly the type of tree it came from. The bark-covered staff had a soft fabric grip with intricate blue and gold embroidery. As his mother stepped through the door, she mumbled a few silent words and the gem that sat atop the staff floated up ever so slightly. It glowed bright red for a split second and the ear on the table crumbled to ashes.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Raz moved his hand to scratch his right ear but found only air. How strange, his ear was gone, but it still itched. Usually, his mother would at least talk to him, her silence was unnerving. His father hopped off his stool, grabbed Raz’s hand and with exasperation in his voice said “Let’s go Raz’taz, we need to buy you a hat”.

They left the house and his dad pulled him forward over the makeshift bridge, unstable planks mixing mud and water as they shifted under the weight of the two goblins. Raz looked over his shoulder to Grigri’s house and there she was, looking through the window, eating cake. Always with that creepy smile on her face.

A week had passed since Raz lost his ear and he and Dunkblat were sitting on the rocky outcropping overlooking the bustling marketplace. The shadow of the overhead canopy kept them cool on this scorcher of a day.

Dunkblat was finishing the last of his lunch, a soft piece of pickerelweed bread, a local delicacy and everyone’s favorite. They looked down at the village’s myriad pontoon bridges, criss-crossing the muddy swamp waters. The village was built up in a circular pattern, with most of the villagers’ dwellings forming the outer ring, while the shops and craft-houses were all located on the inner ring. At the center was the marketplace, the only patch of dry land in this part of the swamp, it was about a stone’s throw across and was used for celebrations, pop-up stalls and makeshift entertainment. It was Raz’s favorite place of all time, holding most of his fondest memories.

“Hey Razzie, look down there, at the intersection of Rickety’s and the pondweed harvest grounds,” Dunkblat said with a big grin on his face. Raz’s eyes widened, it was Ikni, he had been expertly avoiding her since the accident and Dunkblat said she was getting mightily pissed off at having the feeling of being ignored. “Just talk to her, I’m sure she’ll be… all ears!”, Dunkblat snorted, laughing at his own joke and his pudgy belly shuddered with joy. Raz gave his friend an annoyed glance. Clocking in at about fifty crappy puns a day he’d had just about enough of the ear-jokes.

The truth is he’d been working on a new look for the better part of the week, trying to come up with something that worked with the ear situation. Different style hats, bandannas and even props seemed to only look more and more silly with each additional attempt. In the end, he’d settled for a black scruffy hat with a red headband. It covered his ear in a natural way.

Ikni was one of Dunkblat’s six twin sisters and Raz had a mad crush on her. He met her at Dunkblat’s house perhaps two years ago. On that day Raz had heard her boasting about how she could easily catch a dozen swamp geckos in a single hunt, and Raz had made a big mistake, he had scoffed.

Ikni was violently offended and she had challenged Raz to a good old-fashioned swamp-gecko chase. As it turns out, Ikni wasn’t kidding and made Raz eat his words, or scoffs, rather. That whole day Ikni had poked fun at Raz, small comments here and there, and by nightfall he doubted she was ever offended in the first place, but rather a good actress looking to have some fun at his expense. After that humiliating first meeting, Ikni had started hanging out more and more with the duo and against her cheeky charms Raz never stood a chance. He had fallen hopelessly in love.

When he met her in the early morning on the day of his accident he could tell by her eyes she was feeling playful. “Oh, you’re sad to see me again…”, she had said with pouting lips and feigned sadness in her voice. She had referred to his ear, which drooped sometimes, it was embarrassing and she’d made it into a running joke over the past few weeks.

A week on, and here he was, earless. How could he possibly face her now.

“… isn’t that right? Razzie?”, Dunkblat hit Raz on the shoulder with a hefty punch. “Are you even paying attention to what I’m saying Raz?”. Raz snapped out of his stupor and replied “Sorry Dunk, I was only half listening.” Dunkblat pursed his lips tight, his face looked like he’d been holding his breath for the last 5 minutes, and then he let it all out, ”Half listening! Haaahahahah!” He struggled to find his breath again, and wheezed repeating the words “half listening” several times in between.

Raz let his shoulders slump in defeat when he noticed Dunkblat’s bouldering laugh had drawn some looks, including Ikni’s. She was far away but Raz could clearly see her look up and wave at him. His mouth went instantly dry, he adjusted the oversized hat he was wearing and then waved back. She would come up now, he was done for, there was nowhere to go.

She started gesturing that she would make her way over but then stopped, a commotion was developing on the marketplace. More and more villagers started piling into the open square and Raz saw a patrol of the Goblin Guard move toward the center. The crowd parted as they marched and then he saw it. The reason for all the fuss. They had a prisoner, a goblin-like prisoner, but it was twice the height of the tallest goblin Raz knew. It wore clothes, had arms and legs and a face with a tiny nose and tiny ears, like a monster from Grigri’s stories. Its face was full of thick bushy hair.

The creature was not tall enough to be an ogre. “It’s a human,” Dunkblat whispered in awe. That made sense, it looked a bit like the humans from Grigri’s stories.

This was the first time Raz had ever seen a human, how exciting!