Despite the fight having happened only a few days ago, Gigi was already back to work at the bakery. Griselda and Drake insisted that she keep resting, but Gigi stood firm that because of the festival, she had to help. However, it was apparent to Drake that she was not herself. There were her broken fingers. She tried to hide them but favored her unmolested hand. She was also still clearly suffering from the effects of the poison. Even with the antidote, it was supposed to take a long time to filter out completely. She was slower than usual and seemed disoriented sometimes, but she still swore off all help from him or her family. Gigi was, simply put, not herself.

After the deliveries, he attempted to assist her in the kitchen. However, despite his best intentions, he was clearly in the way. Griselda told him she would ensure Gigi was okay and that he could take the day until she was done working. He sighed and resumed his sketch. He was trying to capture Glorp’s gelatinous features, but they proved challenging.

He had secured an enormous stack of parchment to distract himself. He busily sketched whatever his heart desired. It wasn’t until he heard a knock at the door that he broke from his trance. Drake swiveled to the raps nervously. It couldn’t be Gigi. She had a key. Drake slowly got up from the desk and crept toward the door.

He got down on his hands and knees, peering under the door to see who it was. Drake was met with a pair of bright brown eyes staring back. Yelping, Drake jumped to his feet. A piece of parchment slid under the door, a smiley face painted on it in bright green. The face had little pointed ears, and “Friends?” was written underneath it.

He supposed the little green face looked friendly. Drake flipped the parchment and drew his face, taking the time to put in the detail that only years of practice and craft could produce. When he finished, he slid the parchment back under. A tiny gasp from the other side of the door sounded.

“Can you paint?” came a tiny whisper.

“Paint?” asked Drake.

A moment later, Drake unlocked and slowly slid the door open, quickly motioning for the visitor to enter. Gigi’s little brother, Grenn, was holding a bucket overflowing with brushes and suspiciously full bottles of paint. Grenn set the paints down and looked around his sister’s room as Drake locked the door.

“You’ve got paint?” Drake asked as if he was buying something illegal.

Grenn held the bucket aloft and grinned broadly, missing more than one tooth. “Oh, I’ve got paint.”

The two painted until they ran out of parchment, talking of different things they would love to do along with places real and imagined they would like to go. They looked around the room for more things to paint. However, they came up empty and sat on the floor together instead.

“You seem cool. Do you want to play outside?” Grenn asked.

Drake shook his head. “I'm sorry. I’m worried about Gigi, so I’m going to stay put and wait for her.”

“Gross, you like my sister,” Grenn making a gagging motion.

“I just said I was worried.”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s what adults do for people they like, they worry.”

“You’re a smart kid,” Drake said, chuckling.

Grenn shrugged. “I guess so. Adults are just weird. They never say what they mean, but you still seem alright, even if you like my sister.”

“Grenn, can I ask you a question? What does Gigi like? I want to do something special for her.”

The young goblin boy seemed stumped by the question. “Well, I can tell you everything she doesn’t like?”

Drake shook his head. “Come on, there has to be something?”

“Oh, she likes that one, like, bushy flower.”

Drake grimaced. That could have been any number of flowers, but he was no florist. “What about something else?”

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“Well, she loves our dad. I don’t really remember him, but Gigi said he was the best!” A spark came alive in the young boy’s eyes. “She said he was smart, strong, and tall. He was five-two!” The little goblin beamed when speaking of his father.

Drake gave a sad smile. He could feel the love radiating off of Grenn. Drake wondered if Grenn had any memories of his Dad to call his own or if they were kindred spirits, never getting to know the man whose blood they carried.

“It sounds like he was a great man.”

“He was…I wish I could remember him better, but it’s all blurry,” Grenn said wistfully.

Drake nodded. There it was. They were the same, after all. “I don’t remember my Dad either,” he said, shaking his head.

Grenn looked at Drake again with wide eyes. Drake saw something that might have been understanding in the brown gems.

“Did your Mom tell you about him?”

Drake once more shook his head. “No…I don’t remember her either. They both…passed when I was very young.”

“So you didn’t have anyone?” Grenn asked, stupified.

“I had an older brother. He was everything to me, but now, I’ve lost him too.” Drake shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Grenn said quietly, his ears drooping.

Drake gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, but I’m not trying to make you sad. I’m trying to get you to think of all the people in your life you do have. You have a mother who would do anything for you and sisters you can admire and rely on. You even have a twin to share the ups and downs.”

Grenn took in Drake’s words and appeared to be chewing on them in his head. “Do you want to be brothers?” Grenn asked finally.

“What?” Asked a surprised Drake.

“You’re right,” Grenn nodded, “I have a lot of sisters and my mom, but I don’t have a brother, and you said you lost yours. So why don’t we become brothers?” He asked earnestly.

Drake’s chest hitched at the offer. It was so sweet and pure. Perhaps they didn’t share blood, but they did share the heartache of losing someone they never got to know. He decided if Grenn needed a big brother, he would do his best to be that for him.

Drake stuck out his hand to shake, “Brothers?” He asked.

Grenn smiled toothily and smacked his hand into Drake’s, “Brothers!”

Drake picked up a piece of used parchment and flipped it over to the fresh side. “I want to draw your Dad for Gigi. Can you tell me what your mom said he looked like?”

The boy jumped to his feet. “I’ll show you. Be right back!”

The boy raced out of the room, and a few moments later, Drake heard the gentle knock again. Grenn stood at the threshold, grinning. As he came in, he held up a polished amber stone.

“Here!” he said, proudly handing Drake the gem.

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s a forever stone. You set it in the middle of a room, it flashes, and it etches what it catches forever!” Grenn giggled a little at his rhyme.

Drake handled it carefully, knowing he had been entrusted with something special. He turned the stone in his hand. Inside were two goblins holding hands. One, Drake was reasonably sure, was a younger version of Gigi’s mother. A slightly taller and more muscular goblin stood next to her in full baking regalia, holding a mighty war hammer. On his shoulder sat a little goblin.

“That’s Gigi,” Grenn said, pointing to the child.

Drake nodded solemnly. “Would Gigi mind if I painted one of her walls?”

Grenn tilted his head and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Nah, not if you do it, you're good at this. Not like when I did it. I had to hide from Gigi for a week!”

Drake chuckled. “Can I use your paint? I promise to pay you back...somehow.” He had a pang of realization he was bartering with a child. Sometimes, life was strange.

“Three fried river eels at the festival. Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.” Grenn crossed his arms.

“Deal!”

“Really?” Grenn grinned, dropping his arms.

“Really.”

“Okay, they’re all yours. I’m going to go play outside.”

A moment later, Grenn was gone. Drake locked the door again, then turned to the wall in front of him, his canvas. He didn’t think he could do much to show her how he felt, but perhaps this would be a small step. Drake placed the forever stone on the fireplace mantel.

Drake shut his eyes, chanting slowly and calmly. After a moment, the shadows in the room began to slither from their natural homes and coalesce behind Drake. Arm upon shadowy limb oozed from the blackness, each picking up a brush, and then the wriggling appendages got to work on the wall. Drake stepped back, picturing the whole scene in his head as the many hands from the darkness painted with reckless abandon. He was sure Gigi would love it.