“I-it has a name?!” Seron was obviously shocked by the information. I let him down slowly, thinking of every memory that came back to me. There was something missing amongst all of them, and that hurt the most, as it felt crucial. “Can you tell me more? What did he or she look like? Are there more of them? Did it try to eat your flesh?”.

His questions came to me only some moments after standing there in silence. “Well, no. She told me some stories, and then offered me bread and tea.”. Obviously my answer perplexed him deeply. So much so, he just chuckled angrily, thinking I was probably trying to pull some more elaborate joke on him.

“Bread and tea? From a goblin? Do you even hear yourself?” he stood back down, pulling out a notebook, to which I pointed. “It’s for taking notes, or crossing off ideas, like the false belief that forest people are more serious.”. I could tell he was jabbing back at me, but I didn’t care, it was important that he was to take note of what I was about to say. I didn’t know why myself, but it also felt right, that it would lead me to that path I was seeking. To the truth hidden that was fogging my mind.

“This time I don’t try to make fun of you, Seron,” I stood down and started to spread out the supplies inside my bag, “it’s what I remember most clearly. Just a small part though. There’s a lot more to it, and I’d like for you to listen and take note of it.”.

“And why should I do that? So far you only seemed concerned with making light of the situation,” I realised at that time that my tone and approach might’ve been too playful. My father always berated me for it, but it was essential for a hunter to hide their emotions. It was especially important for situations like these, when meeting strangers. After all, had I not been so playful, he might’ve kept his guard up after I showed my bow to him.

But there was no more place for playfulness. “Fine, I will talk as I mean it,” I said in a sombre tone, finally revealing my nature: that of a cold blooded hunter.

Meeting the Hunter

When I met Robin, it is fair to say he had quite the presence about himself. I already had deep knowledge of hunters and their practices around Fenoa. So when I met him, I already knew who I was dealing with. It was all a matter of playing the fool, so he would let his guard down around me. And while that seemed to be the case at first, it was when he switched his tone that I realised we’ve both been playing with each other.

While I was doubting Robin from the first exchange we had, there was an air of sincerity about him. I could tell his casual attitude was to make me feel safe around him, but I couldn’t tell if that was entirely true. The thought of stabbing him and running away came across me before sitting down. But once I sat, I felt protected, not exposed to danger. Despite his rather intimidating appearance, the bear cape, bow and hunter hat which indicated he was of second rank, his body language was that of a soft man. One that knew when to use force or a gentle touch. In that case, I felt like he was merely choosing to use a gentle touch for me, just so he wouldn’t expose his other side.

Once he said he would talk as he meant it, he proposed to me to first gather some firewood and camp into the forest. I was against it of course, for I was no hunter and that particular region was amongst the most dangerous across Fenoa. But he assured me, be it an animal or whatever else may lurk out there, they wouldn’t touch us. I found the choice of words interesting, as if it wasn’t necessarily his ability he trusted, but something else.

While gathering the wood, I kept noticing something from Robin. I couldn’t tell if it was the light of the moon touching his cape and producing some weird light, but there was something glowing at his back when he faced me. The only reason I didn’t ask, was due to a rumour that hunters were quite particular about their possessions. Each of them carried a story, and were you to be a stranger inquiring about their personal discoveries, some of which they didn’t even share with their family, you would get silence at best, or a stray arrow at worst.

I thought of asking him about it after getting on more friendly terms, perhaps once we took our time and he told me his story. At least at that point I wouldn’t have much to lose.

We set up our little camp near the road. Robin told me how animals usually keep away from it due to his family, which I trusted. The night proved cold, and if that wasn’t enough to keep me awake, the howling of wolves and other animals carried with the winds did. I was of course worried the weather may pick up and end up in a bad situation, but he assured me we’d be fine. Worse comes to worse, he would start digging into the ground and have me do the same near the fire.

With those worries slightly cast aside, I asked him a few things about himself and how he got there to begin with, his mother getting sick and then arriving at the conclusion it must be some magical beast. At first I didn’t take note of these details so he wouldn’t think I tried prying into his life, only starting to take notes when he told me to. And that was when he crossed the river on the other side, where what they called the ‘Uneven Hill’ was at.

While he was hurrying to get to the part he wanted me to hear, I had to ask him a few things too. Like if anything felt different when he walked into that side, what things he may have noticed and such. Thanks to that I was able to extract peculiar details, such as a slight headache and nausea taking hold of him as soon as he stepped inside. Other details were the feeling of eyes watching him that he couldn’t point where it came from. So he knew he was being followed, but whatever it was, it did so better than any animal he had knowledge of. That, to him, was an affirmation how this was something entirely different from what he was used to.

Then, after noting those details down, and what happened prior to meeting me with his consent, I asked what he wanted to talk most about. “So, now, how did you meet the goblin?”. I looked him in the eyes when asking the question, in order to ensure that it wasn't some further joke of his, even though his tone didn’t change once that far.

Meeting the Goblin

I was making my way quite well through the forest. Despite that side being supposedly more harsh and hard to travel through, I was able to make it deep inside before encountering any issues. It may have been due to me tracing my mother’s footsteps, or the goblin leading me there, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I was getting closer, as the terrain was starting to move upwards.

On the side where the Uneven Hill was at, nothing worth searching for grew. There was but one plant, I couldn't recall at the time its name, that grew there where nowhere else it did. It was a flower, a blue one, which my father gave to my mom as a wedding gift. It was for him to show her that there was nothing he feared, although later he never once again stepped inside. He described the portion I was about to enter, and it matched that far.

First were the old trees, old when he was young, and older still when I got there. For some reason they would just stand the test of time. Not just one or two, but the whole area surrounding the Uneven Hill. Then the animals, or a lack of them.

It’s what scared him the most really, the fact that nothing besides some birds would step in there. Deers, for example, knew the smell of a bear and to avoid their resting places. So it was right to assume most animals knew not to disturb whatever was sleeping in there.

As I started to feel the land below me going upwards, I drew my sword in anticipation. There were trees still climbing up the hill. If something came from up above, it would have been hard for me to really brace for it, especially since the moon cast its light from behind the hill, so little to no vision was there for me.

That was the most dangerous portion of it, after that a portion would stand almost flat towards the top with little to no vegetation. Something you could see from other higher grounds. It was there that my father found the blue flowers and picked one for my mother.

I managed to get to the higher portion, where the flowers were supposed to be. But once I got there, no flowers were present. I didn’t know what to make of it at first. Thinking about it, even though normally I would take it as a sign of precaution, I knew I had to push forward. Whatever was watching me, it was still there somewhere, I just didn’t know where, but it all seemed to still point up.

From where I stood, I could see the top of the hill and that it had a steep decline. I assumed whatever it was that followed me and got my mother sick, it would be somewhere below. So I started ascending again, always standing on the darker side of the hill.

But then, as I was some hundred metres below the top, I felt something strange ahead. It first bothered my head, as I was leaning forward. It was an odd sensation, as if pushing a needle through skin, but the needle was my head and the skin the air ahead. I thought it must be my mind playing tricks on my body due to anxiety and stress, but, when I paused and stretched my hand to deny the trick, it was still there.

I couldn’t see it in the dark at first, once the moon started poking some of its light through, as my hand was pushing on whatever that was, I could see the image of the hill before me as if stretched, pulled inwards where my hand was pushing. When I pulled my hand back, the image of the land in front of me returned to normal.

Hunter as I was, or I figure human, there were things which couldn't be explained in words. The notion of magic was something of older times, older than magical beasts. At best it was a fun thing to think about, scenarios you would play in your mind if such a thing existed. But to have it all of a sudden before you, rewriting what your mind thought to be possible, shocked me.

My heart was racing and I felt like crying. Not because I was sad or happy, just purely overwhelmed by what stood before me. I spread my palm open, trying to still make sense of it, and as I pushed harder against it, my right hand went through. Before I realised it disappeared, the simple fact that it went through sent me on my back.

Not once in my life did I cry or scream, besides when I was a baby, yet that was enough to get a panicked, gasping scream from me.

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I looked at my hand first, to see that it was still in place, and when I saw it was, I looked at the ‘veil’. Again, the image distorted, more so than before. Once I was back up, I felt my hand warmer than before. While my mind could’ve gone a thousand different places, I was still able to find some calm through the fact that I was there for my mother. That, and the fact that I was able to make some sense of it.

Whatever was before me, I could at least understand the way it worked. I had to first calm my breathing, as I realised just how loud it was. Once I did, I looked around carefully, aware I might have attracted the attraction of something. Although, quite the opposite seemed to have happened, as whatever was watching me had left.

I then smelled the air, felt the breeze and lowered my head to the ground. Through my thoughts I was wondering if whatever the veil was, it was enveloping the top portion of the hill. That was confirmed, as the blades of grass surrounding all around that portion near the veil, were not moving with the wind. Suggesting that the veil was like a shell of sorts, isolating the air from the outside from that inside of it, the winds climbing over it. The breeze also seemed to be that of air currents going around, while there was a clear lack of smell that the earth and grass should have.

Once I was able to confirm all those things, I started to calm down some more. It gave me security that whatever I touched and felt, was still in the realm of reason and logic, it was just different from everything I knew. That also gave me a false sense of security, as I didn’t realise at the time that it meant that whatever followed me, could’ve been inside the veil. Can’t say even my father would’ve done better in those circumstances, but it was still a mistake on my part.

With that though, I started to wonder what was inside, and what was being hidden. As it was obvious to me the veil also was camouflage. Although the best I could call it was magic, I also had the sense that it could be explained if I had the time to play with it some more.

But I couldn’t linger any longer. There were only two choices for me: either enter the veil, or turn back home. Were I to return without anything though, my father would have probably accepted whatever I told him, he would just not have been able to forgive me. That I let his wife, and my mom, die without even trying. So I had to at least try seeing what the veil was hiding.

I didn’t just jump in of course. I started again by pushing my hand inside. Once you’ve done it once, it seems, it wasn’t as hard the second time. The muscles kind of knew what to expect so it was as easy as pushing a wooden door, followed by no resistance whatsoever. I then placed a foot inside, then took it out alongside my hand. I had to ensure I wouldn’t be stuck inside.

Then, I sort of supported myself against the veil with my hands, and pushed my head inside. It felt a bit awkward, but once I got through, I could see everything.

Perhaps even more surprising than the veil itself, was first the peak that was actually some two hundred, instead of one hundred, metres from where I stood. Then the house that stood atop an almost flat portion, and perhaps most perplexing: the whole portion was lit up by blue light.

In that instance I forgot everything, mesmerised by the view before me. Those flowers, the ones I was supposed to encounter earlier, were colouring the entire upper portion of the Uneven Hill, and were the source of the light. Each of them were producing a glow of their own, not overwhelming their own natural colour, and surrounding it rather than protruding from inside. Looking below, I could see I accidentally stepped on some of them when I took the first step inside. A path leading up was to my left that had the flowers carefully planted, signalling where it was safe to walk, interrupted where the veil stopped covering the hill.

Once I recovered from the trance, I looked with more cautious eyes around and then at the house. There was smoke coming out of a stone chimney, the house itself was made of thick, dark brown logs. It was the same wood those old trees were made of, although I hadn’t seen any cut on my way there. So the house was either built with wood from inside the veil, or it was just that old.

Everything that far indicated that I should just give up and return home. Too many unknowns, too much odd stuff that simply didn’t make sense. But, and to my shame to say this, it was no longer my mission to save my mom that took priority in my mind, it was curiosity. Perhaps it was the house that intrigued me, that gave me another false sense of security, since I assumed only a human could live inside of it, or the peaceful, albeit ominous, view before me. Whatever it was, it felt that if I were to leave, I may never be able to see this or someone else may find their way into this place that no one seemed to have a place stumbling across. I guess it was akin to seeing a miracle being performed before you, and knowing that if you don’t accept it, you may never have it happen again.

I then pulled my head out and tried stabbing the veil, to see if anything may happen. But just like with my body, it went through after a bit of resistance, as if its sharpness didn’t matter. Indignated and with a deep sense of wonder, I went to the left side, where the road was at. I didn’t want to step on more of those flowers, as I had a feeling of dread shortly after thinking about it. I also put the sword away, as it was meant for cutting and skinning, or when getting ambushed, nocking my bow. Even if something was to come out from those flower fields, my arrows would get to whatever it was before it had time to consider jumping me.

Once I was where I knew the road to be at, I took a step forward. Pushing half of my body through, pointing my bow downwards, but slightly tensed, ready to release an arrow at any moment. The ground below me felt nice and soft, seeming to have been walked on, although no footsteps were present. While I found it curious, it was perhaps the least surprising thing. I then went wholly inside, pushing my hand to the outside just to ensure I wasn’t trapped, which I wasn’t, as it passed through.

I then looked at my sides, assuring myself nothing was coming for me. And when I looked to my right, those flowers I stepped on seemed to have straightened themselves back up. After ensuring my near environment was safe, I took a deep breath. Air wouldn’t get in or out, so I assumed the smell of smoke should be quite strong, but it wasn’t. Instead, again, to my surprise, the air smelled quite fresh inside, the air moving through some currents I couldn’t tell where they were going to and from. I looked around to see if I could figure it out, but didn’t have time, as I could see some light coming from inside the house towards the door.

There weren’t many places to hide, but there was a slight cliff to the left side, under which no flower grew. So I ran with sharp, silent steps, careful not to kick dirt up into the air and moving my feet so they wouldn’t leave prints on the road. In just a few moments I crossed about a dozen metres and below the cliff I was. The angle I could tell should provide me cover from someone looking down from the house.

As I stood in silence, I was listening with my eyes closed. I could hear the creek of the door, then small footsteps coming out of it. Even though I was still some distance away, compared to the forest’s abundance of noises, it was quite easy to hear. There weren’t really any noises, just the breeze of a soft wind passing through the field of flowers.

Assuming it was a human, the odd circumstances still dictated I should put myself in an advantageous position. My father always taught me to never trust someone who knows everything, whereas I don’t. And those circumstances were exactly that, as whoever lived in that house, had to know or be responsible for what was going on. So, I pulled down on the string, clutching between my fingers the arrow, and listened some more. I had only to wait until whoever was there stepped a bit more outside, the moment they touched the ground with their feet.

And that moment came shortly after, as a creek was followed by an utmost quiet thump on the ground, but not quiet enough. Taking into consideration they may have seen me, I went to my right and shot my arrow into the air towards them. The sound when it landed assured me it hit the wood just behind and to the right of them, and where I wanted, as the one in front of the house jumped forward I could tell. I then quickly went back to my left and onto the road, pointing my bow straight ahead.

“One step forward, and my arrow will hit you before you have time to-” it didn’t take too long of a look to realise I wasn’t dealing with a human, as what stood before me, was an old, decrepit and odd looking creature, its ears large, pointy at the end but bent slightly forward, and most importantly, the green skin. A goblin

I no longer used thought or reason, but pure instinct. Whether it was an illusion or not, I wasn’t ready to take my chances with something that shouldn’t even exist, so I shot my arrow and ran the opposite way the very next moment. I then turned so I could jump backwards facing the creature, and then shot another arrow, as I fell on my back and rolled up on my feet, running towards the veil.

However, within that short glimpse I had while shooting my second arrow, I could see the first arrow hit nothing, but had the feeling the second should. The first could’ve missed, the second however I was sure it would hit the creature as it stood still there. Yet again, when I glanced back once in front of the veil, the goblin had nothing happened to it. Unmoved, unphased and no arrow to stick out of the ground or house.

I didn’t need to think about it, all I wanted was to escape. But even that was denied to me, as I pushed against the veil and that time it felt as if I was fighting a brick wall. I kicked and hit the veil, but nothing, as it didn’t stretch like before. A caged animal, in my place, would try to either bang its body against it until something may happen, or stand in a corner and patiently wait. I, however, was beaten into a different kind of behaviour. When caged, especially with another, my best option was to bite before they could. The advantages were clear for the creature, and the unknowns played in my disfavour as well. Even so, waiting around wouldn’t have proven good, as the goblin was moving towards me.

Although it seemed to be old, I had that feeling when I first faced off a bear. That no matter what I’d do, there was nothing to save me from my fate. And unlike before, my father wasn’t there to save me, I was stuck in a cage with the beast.

My first instinct was to run around it and shoot from a distance. Despite what I felt confronting it, its seemingly old age was an undeniable thing. Its skin was all wrinkles and hanging loosely, while its ears also indicated they no longer had the supple nature they once had. So no matter how hard it could bite or strike, it mattered not if it could not keep up its pace with me.

So I started by going to my left, stepping on the blue glowing flowers. The goblin seemed bothered by it, but I didn’t care, as I kept moving through the field and shot my first arrow. As it flew straight for it, I pulled out another, a dozen more remaining. However, as I was nocking my bow, I stopped in place and let the arrow hang loosely. The arrow, although I caught only a glimpse, snapped before the goblin, unable to reach it. And as I stood there, I started taking notice of other things. From the fact that it was wearing clothes, to its body language and human-like eyes.

I was still determined to strike some parts of it down before it had a chance to do anything to me, but doubt was starting to make its way into my mind. I was starting to really wonder if this was some vision or illusion. I recalled my father’s story, about the crazy hunter, and I was feeling anxious. That maybe whatever got my mom and that hunter, had already taken a hold of me. Whether or not I was awake, was something I started to doubt as well. So I pulled out my sword, the goblin stood still where it advanced towards, which was some fifty metres away from me. I then cut my own palm, to ensure the pain was real, and it was indeed, so was the blood I licked from my wound.

Although I still wasn’t completely certain, I at least was confident I could die. And that was enough to motivate me to put my sword between me and the goblin. Despite my obvious warning and readiness to charge, the goblin still stood there, looking at my feet. It seemed to care more about the flowers than the potential threat I was posing.

So I started pacing from side to side, touching the road once more and out of the flower field I was. The goblin seemed to finally take notice of me, switching its gaze from the flowers. I approached slowly, knowing there was not much place for tactics. I had to wonder if it even wanted me, even though the veil wasn’t moving, and it happened after it exited the house, so I wasn’t sure what it wanted.

Then, as I was some ten metres away, ready to lunge at it and try cutting it open, the most unbelievable thing happened that night. “You humans never change, do you?” she said.