Smoke, fire, hammering. The noise of that accursed night reverberated inside the wizard’s head. It echoed at him and made his soul shaking at its core. The strike of the hammer grew in intensity and speed. Each ringing drowned the wizard in an ever-growing cloud of darkness. Once, twice, thrice. The hammering became louder as the faint whisper of his soul diminished until the noise of the soul became a muted yell.

In the darkness of the haze, the wizard let out a soundless scream. Then, with a final strike of the hammer, he awoke. A soft breeze cleared the cold sweat from his brow. As he opened his eyes, he saw a flapping tarp above him, propped up on four simple wooden sticks. He took off the old cloth blanket shielding him from the natural elements and lifted himself from the bedroll of grass and weeds. As he stood up, he noticed the source of the hammering.

A few feet away was the burned wreckage of the wooden wall and platform. Surprisingly, the goblins remained hard at work. They dredged the swamp, replacing the burned wood of the park’s foundations while they sang a laborer’s anthem triumphantly over the ashen ruins.

He walked toward the construction site. The sky above him was overcast with a seemingly never-ending mat of clouds that threatened to rain over the woodwork and break the fragile peace of dryness.

“My star champion!” a familiar voice cried out as a warm embrace coiled around the wizard’s body. “You finally awoke! You hurt? Does head hurt? It hurt, don't it?”

The wizard shook at the princess's hug and the suddenness of her words and questions. He focused himself, bending his sore back to return the affection.

“Ivy ... no, I'm. I'm good. Just a little dizzy,” Figwit uttered in a tired and raspy tone. His voice betrayed the relief he felt while his heart revealed his loyalty and happiness, beating with newfound vigor against the princess's ear.

Outside of the lovers’ refuge though, another familiar voice revealed itself to him. “No wonder you're dizzy. You've been out cold for at least two days now. Sorry about Axel, by the way. He usually doesn't hit that hard.” The lemon-like coloring of the goblin was unmistakable even if his calm and apologetic intonation was strange and novel to the wizard.

The daze faded away. His senses found their balance and the scene before him finally became clear.

Hugging him was the princess, still wearing his cloak above her royal dress and clothes. Mud, dirt, and sawdust from the rebuilding effort covered it in a fine film. It was a testament to the princess's love and loyalty both to Figwit and to her beloved green guard.

Behind her Lemin looked no different than before, albeit now he wore a belt filled with carpenter tools. His eyes were unusually soft and bright, as if the anger brought by the toil and lack of worker conditions had been replaced by a well-rested and satiated body.

“I have been ... huh? What happened?” He tried to recall as a sudden sharp pain rang out from behind his temple. “Last thing I remember was the fire.”

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

“The fire indeed.” Lemin recoiled himself. His arms crossed as if trying to hold back against the weight of his gomrade's actions. It crushed him like the tower had done to the fiery walls.

The princess sneered at her goblin counterpart. She pried herself from the wizard, letting go of everything except for his hand. She spoke in a calm and soft tone. “You went unconscious after Axel hit you in head.”

“Yeah, I remember that part,” Figwit admitted with a pained tone. He could still feel the mark left by the mallet.

“After that, entire park went aflame. Would have all died if it wasn't for ...” Ivy's tone lowered, her own voice still incredulous at the words.

“The pointy hats saved us,” Lemin completed even as his head too instinctively shook in disbelief.

“The gnomes saved you?” Figwit stammered. He wondered if perhaps the mallet hit had been stronger than he previously thought.

Ivy continued. “Little ones did. Yes.” A faint smile emerged, complementing the radiance of the princess. “All lost hope, escape looked impossible. But even as little ones’s tower was burning, they managed everyone and came up with plan to save us.”

“Yes, but you see we have problem now,” Lemin said as he walked toward the improvised cover where the wizard had slept. He kicked the sticks into the ground and collected the tarp before finishing his work with a serious and worried warning. “The pointy hats have barricaded themselves in.”

“What?” the wizard let out in shock.

Ivy tried to calm him. “Yes, well ... things started good after fire. Little ones agreed to put more effort into food and working for first new building to be where green guard would sleep. But...”

“Yesterday, the green union came to vote,” Lemin said with a foreboding tone that made the wizard feel afraid of the fruits of worker democracy. “We had seen the pointy hats working with us, sure, but most weren't certain of their ... commitment yet.” Lemin leaned forwards on his knee, speaking with a visibly frustrated tone. “The union wanted way to assure the pointy hats wouldn't skimp on quality of our new quarters. So we voted to have the pointy hats give up their hats. To be held by the union until after the park construction was completed.”

A low grumbling cry came out from the wizard, he massaged and held his face with his free hand. Finally pleading. “Let me guess, did you vote for it Lemin?”

“No. I was fine with pointy hats giving better rations and more safety measures.”

“I didn't vote. I don't get to, according to green guard.” Ivy scowled at Lemin.

Figwit sat on the ground in frustration. The princess patted him on the head to comfort him and continued. “Everyone's trying to talk to little ones but they are stubborn and don't come out.”

“Yes, and the union's getting restless. We are still working on getting foundation in place, but if pointy hats don't budge, work is gonna stall real quickly and ... well, you know the rest.”

Figwit looked in defeat at the platform, answering, “Why didn't you try to wake me up?”

“We did!” Lemin retorted, furrowing his eyebrows.

Ivy added, “You were out very, very cold. Nothing worked, so we just waited and hoped you would wake up.” She sat down next to the wizard, leaning onto him and hugging him as she continued, “No one here understands little ones like you do, Figwit. We need you to talk with them and make them let go of hats.”

The wizard shook his head as his love pleaded with him. He turned his head to her, held her hand, and said in a low and emotionless tone, “It's not gonna work. Those hats mean everything to them. If you take them away it's ... I can't explain it, you wouldn't understand.”

“Oh, you don't have to explain it to us,” Lemin said as he put down the tarp he carried and recovered the wizard's staff from the ground. “You gotta explain it to them.” He threw the staff to the wizard’s side as he pointed behind him to the wooden platform and the mob of green atop it.

The wizard grabbed it and stood up, still holding Ivy’s hand. He stared at the center of the rebuilt floor where the crowd was huddling and forming around a strange structure.

He fixed his hat, flanked by both the princess and the union leader, sighing. “Never a dull moment.”