I let out a sigh of disappointment. It was an age-old struggle of Kobolds that we got misidentified as Goblins.

At least I know that the goblins are alive and kicking, I’m honestly glad, I hope they’re doing ok. I know at least two of the species I would consider cousins are alive; it’s them and the little folk. And I suppose this time, it at least makes sense. My people are gone, they don’t exist, it’s no surprise that I might be mistaken for one. Although it still seems strange that they would go by Beastkin, the goblins were the most resilient people I know; they hate any change. Changing how they see themselves? That seems… strange.

Anna, not privy to my internal monologue, asked from on top of me, “Goblins? What about goblins?”

“Beastkin sounds like goblins, snout and whisker, fur. Good with animals?” I asked her, listing off a few of the simple things they were good with.

“Well, yes, they do have those, and they are good with animals, but they aren’t goblins. You can’t just go around calling people monsters, Saphy.”

Saphy? I suppose I’m not aver- Wait, monsters?

I blinked, the thought echoing around the inside of my empty head, bouncing off the walls of my skull. Monster.

Monster wasn’t the right word for a Goblin. Sure, sometimes they could be hostile, but they were people. Short animal people who took care of animals and plants. Caretakers of forests. They are almost always gentile, assuming you didn’t clear-cut their forests or kill off their animal friends.

I opened my mouth. I closed it. I opened it again and managed to cudgel my tongue into motion.

“Monster? They aren’t monsters, Anna… They’re people.” I told her, looking up into her eyes.

We looked at one another in incomprehension. Instead of talking, we both got a look on our faces. I don’t know what mine looked like, but I knew Annas’s thinking face.

If what she’s saying is true, something is very wrong, and if it isn’t, something else changed and is very wrong.

I asked the question first, “Why are Goblins monsters, Anna? Do you know why? Are they just aggressive? Or are they true monsters?”

I asked it a bit fast, I was desperate, and my mood had gone from good to panicked over the course of a few moments. I had to know.

Goblins were, despite the annoyance of being misattributed, like family. Distant family for sure, but we had a common ancestor. I had already lost my own people; I couldn’t stand losing the resilient goblins too.

Who would be left? The Tuffles, Elves and probably the Gnomes, no one messed with each of them for a reason. Tuffles might be cute, but they could zip around and fight at the same time; the Elves could hit you with a spell that would explode from an arrow that they shot from a mile away and wipe you and everyone with you out, and a Gnome was a Gnome. You didn’t mess with a Gnome, no one did.

There were others, of course, a whole twelve of them, but the Goblins were resilient, natural survivors. The idea of them not bouncing back from something or becoming monsters was… Wrong.

“I… Well, Goblins are a well-known pest, I’ve never seen them personally, but they’re considered a minor monster known for their numbers. If I had to guess, monster is used as more of a catch-all term. I doubt their genuine monsters, more just very violent and aggressive, more like a big pack of predatory animals that prey on people.”

I took deep breaths and let them go in an attempt to try and calm my sudden rapid heartbeats. A little, purposeful breathing helped blunt the spike of emotion, even if it still left me twitchy with nerves.

I let out a few breaths before I managed to speak again, calm enough to puzzle out the words I needed to say.

“The more I know, the more I feel like I know nothing anymore,” I admitted.

I had figured it would be different, things change over time, and that’s how life works. But my assumption was not the same as finding out.

Anna let out a laugh, it was more of a scoff, short and clipped, before she gripped onto me and had the audacity to take a page out of my book and gave me a kiss on the head.

“I might not be able to tell what it’s like to be in your position, but the more I learn, the less I feel like I know. I know how it feels to a lesser extent, however. Being a [Druid] in the valley is not what I thought it would be when I first started studying to be a mage. Compared to what I expected, I’ve come to know that the only thing I know for sure is nothing.”

“It’s nice to know and that I’m not alone, thanks, Anna. I suppose all I can do is keep going forward, just keep going and hope I make it far enough that I at least know something.”

She hmmed at that. No doubt using that head of hers, thinking through something. Anna’s ideas hadn’t gone bad so far, what few of them I had seen. I still didn’t know what plan she had concocted after the fight, but if she kept it secret, I figured she had a reason. It’s not like I would squeal.

Or she forgot to tell me. Because apparently, she’s a bit forgetful. I suppose either way, it will work out, if she’s keeping it a secret intentionally, then I bet it will be good, and if she just forgot, then I can tease her a little. Gosh, but she is cute when she blushes.

Her musing turned to talking, interrupting my thoughts. “Well, what do you want to do, what do you want to be? After I started to pick up magic, I wanted to become a [Druid], so I focused on that. Picking something could help narrow down what you’re doing, help you feel less lost.” She told me.

It was a good idea. My list was like all lists, a finite step of things I wanted to get done. Short-term goals are only meant to be short-term. The only problem was that I had no idea what I wanted to be long-term and no long-term plan. I only had short-term things. My list has things like learning magic, but not where I wanted to end up with it or what type of mage I wanted to be.

“I… don’t really know what I want to be. I know what I want to do for now, but not much beyond that.” I admitted.

“Ah. A double whammy then, you’re a little lost in more than one way.” She accurately put, before continuing, “Then work on it a little, we still have our lives ahead of us; you don’t need to worry too much about getting your life in shape overnight. I can help you when you want to think it over a little, assuming you want to return to our conversation or get to sleep anytime soon.”

She giggled a little, it managed to lighten my mood a little bit, her tinkling voice was like a light that shone down through my negativity. It didn’t magically dispel the dark feeling from my mind, it wasn’t magic, but it did take a bit of the weight away from the Goblin situation.

If I ever met them, I supposed I could try and talk with them. Maybe they spoke Kilish, that felt like something they would do. I supposed I could pick it up at a later time, if I met a Beastkin and they were descended from Goblins, or just Goblins that split off and took a new name, I would be able to pick up their scent. Kobold problems could be solved by Kobold's solutions.

Try not to stress it, Saphine, you’re in the middle of a conversation right now. Just keep on going, I’m sure it will be fine.

Oh, who am I kidding? It’s definitely going to come back to bite me; at least, that’s Future Me’s problem.

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“I don’t even remember whose turn it is. Were you keeping track?” I asked her.

“Well,” she said a little cheekily, “I didn’t, but I think you just asked a question, so I’m going to take that as me going first again.”

She was clearly enjoying some part of talking; I didn’t know if it was the back and forth or what, but I knew I enjoyed it too, the goblin part aside, I thought it was going well. Then she came right out of the gate with, “What i-was your family life like?”

She switched so fast from is to was it took me a split second to recognize it as something more than a mispronunciation or a slip of the tongue. I expected her question to sting, and I expected it to ache a little. I missed Skip and Kindly, the thought of their passing still ached a little, but I found that family was just a little sore, like a bruise.

“I didn’t have much of a family, apparently, I had others, grandparents and whatnot, but by the time I was born, it was just my mom and me. She, um, she was kind. She thought more about others than herself, and she did things like brew teas, not a [Healer], no magic, but she did what she could with what she had. I based the tea I gave you off the book, but she used the same recipe, it’s how I did it with no weight. We were close, not inseparable, but close. We were indentured, so we didn’t live care free, but she always took time when she could to be with me or bring me with her until I was old enough to go to work on my own. She died before the fall, she just got sick and never got better.”

“I’m sorry for your loss and for bringing it up. It only occurred to me that it might be a soft spot while I was asking it, my apologies.” She told me.

She didn’t say it like most people would, a kind of obligatory phrase, instead, she said it with a greater weight. Not some polite nicety but a genuine statement of sadness, even if it was distanced from herself.

“Thank you, but if I’m being honest, I think I’m starting to… get over it? It doesn’t hurt as much to think about anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt, a scar is still a wound; it’s not kind of me to pick at it regardless, and I am doubly sorry for it.” She told me with a rather serious tone.

She sounded a bit goofy when she did it, but it was sincere. I gave her a pat on the head, physical reassurance that I wasn’t going to get her back for it.

I immediately decided to get her back.

“So. What’s your family like?” I asked her.

“Where do I start? Well, I have parents and two brothers, cousins and aunts and uncles and whatnot. Do you want to hear everything or more about my immediate family?” she asked in a tone that sounded more exasperated than anything else.

“Immediate family, if you want to talk about random cousins later, I have ears, but I only talked about my mom, it would be weird to expect a family tree,” I told her.

“Well, I can see you have ears, Saph, the phrase your thinking about is ‘I’m all ears, ’ you goof.” She giggled.

“Oh no, I got it wrong; what do do?” I ugged out in my best cavebold voice.

“Let’s see you know, my brothers, you’ve met Strause and seen Clause, Clause is in charge of things right now because Father is in the capital and indisposed to rule, he might have been raised for it, but he’s not taking it well. I never really got along with him, and he’s still a little distant, he’s still my brother, but he is stuck in the same problem my father was, and his was and so on. Strause got the same treatment, but it was sloppier, he was really angry, but now I have no idea what his deal is.”

She paused for a moment to think, but the pause extended beyond one singular moment to a second, then another. Whatever she was going to say was continuously being rethought repeatedly, bringing down her voice's energy from a giggle to a tangible hesitance.

“My mother, growing up, was a constant, but it was in a teaching role just as much as a motherly role. She had the three of us over the course of six years, Clause then Me, then Strause, he’s about as old as you. My memory of my mother, my strongest memories were of her when she was tired and somewhat miserable. But now she’s… different, I’ve been separated from them for a long time, estranged, but I caught up with her a little. Then there’s my Father, Baron Mynes. I barely know anything about him, he keeps everything close to his chest, he never listens, and he does as little as he can and toes the line. And that’s my family, I barely know them.”

She started in a somewhat flatter, hesitant tone, like she was confused, before irritation started bubbling to the surface. But with her irritation came the question of what precisely was so pressing it would cause Anna to be honestly angry. Was it just irritation towards her father or something more? Just because I never knew mine didn’t mean that I hadn’t ever been angry at him for not being there, not pulling his weight.

Not being there for us.

“I think it’s your turn.” I gently prodded, not wanting to turn her ire toward me. Her ire was not scary, not a raging fury that made me fear for my safety, in all honesty, I wasn’t afraid that Anna’s ire would result in anything negative towards me. I didn’t want to annoy her any more than she is now, nor kindle it with agreement.

“Right, well. What did your family do before the indenture? I only know your first name but not your second. Don’t get me wrong, I like the ring of Saphine and all, but I don’t even know what your last name is.”

I. Did not have an answer to that question. Only important people had a last name, tradesmen or a skilled job maybe. The closest most would come to a last name was if there were more than one person you knew with the same name and you had to distinguish between them, and my name was rather distinctive.

“I, uh, do not have a last name, Anna. I’m just Saphine, I don’t know what to tell you there, but I do know that my family mostly farmed before the indenture.”

Anna didn’t respond for a moment, but when she did, it was a bit louder than when she had last spoken.

“Wait, what do you mean you don’t have a last name? Everyone has some last name, even if it’s just their parent’s job like a miller.”

There was indignance in her voice that I had no idea how to address, so instead, I just explained a bit more.

“Most people didn’t have a last name, there was no reason to. Bet there a reason to know if everyone has one, but I don’t, during my time, a second name denoted importance, I am not.”

She deflated a bit before mumbling something like “weird” into my chest. There was more to it, but I couldn’t pick up the words.

I held onto Anna and swivelled to the side, rolling both of us to the side. She was still slightly on top of me, just to the side.

She pulled her face from my chest and looked at me, “It’s your turn, oh woman of the one name.”

I started laughing, chortling really at the name.

“Woman of the one name. PFFt. Makes me sound like an ancient relic of great power.” I managed to get out between chortles.

Anna, a bit indignant, eventually managed to chuckle, though I think that was more so at my own laughing.

I glommed onto her only when I started to calm down, the choking laugh dimmed down to an inconsistent hiccup.

I looked at Anna through my heavy eyelids, and she looked back at me through hers.

“My turn,” I told her, “you said your Father never listens, but what about? If it’s not a sore sport.”

She reached up, interrupting our stare to play with my ears, which splayed at the contact.

“Well, Saphy, do you remember there’s this thing with negative mana, which is apparently called Tenebrae according to your skill. It has this thing where it affects the environment of its container. In this case, the valley. By the end of the year, there will be a famine, next year, the crops won’t grow. Probably within two years of that, there won’t be any wildlife left in the valley. And for the last ten or so years, I have been trying to stop it, but I can’t do it without people like my father listening or a lot of help from mages that don’t live here.”

The longer she spoke, the more defeat entered her voice.

I took it in, not with fear or trepidation, I was too tired for that, but with a poorly meandering line of thought.

Kobolds were supposed to protect the valley. We stayed here while all the others left, so we took it upon ourselves to take care of the place where our fallen parents died so that others might live. The valley was important, not just in the historical sense, but to me.

It was the place I grew up.

And it was the place my people died.

It was the place everyone I had cared for now called their grave.

It was twice the grave now, but this time, it only had humans to take care of it, and no offence to humans, but people like Anna were the few, the exception to the rule.

I was the only Kobold left. Sure, sure I could leave, convince Anna to pack up and just head somewhere. But if I was honest with myself, I couldn’t do it.

The thought percolated through my head, and a variety of things clicked.

I was a bane of Tenebrae, I could disrupt it, which meant that I might be able to help, any of my other skills might help too.

I was the last Kobold, the last caretaker of the valley, and I was not willing to let the valley go.

I was courting Anna, and Anna had given sweat, blood and tears to keep the valley I had not been around to help as healthy as possible.

The land, the force of nature that I could speak to at a whim and had always been there for me, was in, if not pain, then in at the least great discomfort at the state of itself.

And a whole lot of good, innocent people were going to die if nothing happened.

Each thought bled into one another, each fusing together until I felt it in my bones, it became one idea.

I could do something, with my newly granted skills, to take care of the valley’s problems with Anna at my side, and I could help a whole lot of innocent people in the process.

And that, in turn, merged with my lack of long-term direction, with my lack of a higher principle.

“Anna, I know what I want to be.” I sleepily told her.

I heard her yawn before she replied, “Do you? What is it?”

“I’m going to save the valley,” I told her.

She snuggled in, adjusting the blankets a little, and pressed into her in turn.

She never replied that night, but I was too asleep to care that she was asleep.

Little did I know that that stupid line of thought, that careless idea to save the valley, would kick off a series of events that would see my quiet life with Anna disrupted, for better or worse.

One last thing that happened that night?

[Apprentice Mage] has gained a level, and is now level 2!