Grag’s POV

Grag sat in Paul’s tent on the floor, he was gathering mana from his fire tether. The fire mana felt hot and smelled of smoke. It wasn’t unpleasant, but he wasn’t sure if he liked it. As the mana filled him, he felt more and more powerful. Almost as fast as he gathered the mana, it leaked out. Paul told him that that was normal and that as he got stronger in fire magic his anchor would become stronger.

He breathed slowly, trying to focus on the mana trickling into him. His tether throbbed slightly. It was a strange sensation, there was nothing to compare with it. It also felt strange with the mana flowing out. He didn’t understand, he had used magic before, how was this so hard.

“Focus.” Paul’s voice came from behind him.

His undead master made no sound while he walked. Paul’s silence unnerved Grag a little, but he was being taught magic by him. It was better than being just a normal servant.

“I am focusing.” Grag said. “The mana is just slipping away.”

Paul laughed softly. “You aren’t supposed to hold it yet. You are learning the ebb and flow of fire mana. As you grow, your tolerance will grow with you. Your tether is a rope, you’re building your grip with these exercises. As you practice, your strength with become stronger and your mana will stay longer.”

Grag closed his eyes again with a slight huff. He tried to imagine his tether as a rope, something tangible he could grasp and pull. The sensation of fire mana changed slightly. He could feel it change, becoming a little more controlled.

“That’s good.” Paul said approvingly. “Don’t fight the mana, it is yours. It is a part of you, you are just bringing it home, where it belongs. If you try and force it too hard, you will simply lose more mana than you are bringing in.”

Grag nodded, concentrating harder. The fire mana became steadier. The feel of the flame was less of an inferno blazing out of control and more of a simmering ember. Worried the flame would die out, he tried to hold pull harder. Then the ember flared uncontrollably and Grag lost control.

The fire mana was lost and Grag couldn’t feel it any longer. Frustrated he slammed his fist into the ground.

Paul raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You are too impatient. Mastery takes time. Do you think the greats all became that way over night? Do you think I gained my strength just like that? No, we didn’t. We all practiced.”

Grag opened his eyes and looked over at Paul. “I know. I just want to be useful, now. I don’t want to be like other goblins.”

“You are already unlike the other goblins.” Paul said. “Your ability to use magic puts you leagues above them.”

“But Krelgr and the other shaman can use magic.” Grag looked down feeling the weight of Paul’s stare.

“Yes, but they are limited.” Paul got up from his throne. “Goblins don’t have established curriculums and learning centers. They rely on master and apprentice for each village. Krelgr knows what, 12 runes?”

“Maybe.” Grag shrugged.

“I know hundreds.” Paul walked over and picked up a book. “And what I can’t remember is in here. That is why it is also important for you to learn to read.”

Paul set the book down and looked back at Grag, “That is how you gain true worth and power. Through knowledge. Knowledge is power, the only true power.”

“Ok, Master.” Grag looked away. He found it hard to look at Paul sometimes. It made him uneasy. “I’ll keep trying.”

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“See that you do.” Paul looked at the entrance to the tent. “Remember, every failure is just another step towards success.”

Grag was about to thank Paul for is lessons, as he had become accustomed, when he heard something outside the tent.

“Paul.” Eryndral said as she walked into the tent.

The vampire threw open the entrance flaps with great fanfare. She was in her usual black robe with silver writings on it. She never seemed to change from it. From his vantage on the floor, Grag could see she wore boots of some kind.

Before she could get too close to Paul, Liora appeared out of nowhere and stepped between the two. “Hold.” Liora said.

A slight smell of spring flowers followed Eryndral into the hut. She had an elf’s long pointy ears. He knew hobgoblins hated the elves, but aren’t they supposed to hate undead elves? Now that he thought about it, Liora was an elf also. Was undeath a natural part of being undead?

“Step aside Liora, I have to speak to Lord Paul.” Eryndral said.

“It’s alright Liora.” Paul said. “What can I help you with Eryndral?”

“Why have you not sent troops to secure the mine?” Eryndral asked. “I already told you there was a prospective recruit there.”

“Scouts report the mine is almost a month from here.” Paul turned towards a piece of parchment he had laid out on a table. “There are a lot of villages between the mine and Gravewell. There is also the Blood Fangs not too far away in the east. It is important that we secure a source of iron for tools and weapons.”

“I would like to remind you the mine is an iron mine.”

“We know.” Liora said.

Grag shifted uncomfortably, trying to refocus on his meditation. The flickering embers of his fire mana tugged at his awareness, but the conversation between Paul, Liora, and Eryndral pulled harder. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath his surface.

“Why can’t they talk somewhere else?” he muttered under his breath.

Eryndral’s presence filled the tent like a storm cloud, her commanding tone slicing through the air. “The mine is crucial, Paul. It’s not just about the iron, it’s about resources and leverage. If you delay, someone else will claim it, and you’ll regret it.”

Paul remained calm, his voice steady. “I understand the importance of the mine, Eryndral. But rushing into it without proper preparation could cost us more than we gain. We need to secure the surrounding areas first; ensure our supply lines are stable. Strategy matters more than speed.”

Grag glanced at the parchment Paul was studying, though he couldn’t make sense of the markings from his position. His mind wandered back to Paul’s earlier words, about knowledge being power. He thought of the goblin shamans he had once admired. Compared to Paul’s mastery, their magic felt like a child’s scribbles.

But Eryndral’s frustration was palpable, her silvered robes catching the flicker of the firelight. “Every day you delay is a risk. The Blood Fangs could take it while we sit here debating!”

Liora’s voice was calm but firm as she stepped forward. “The Blood Fangs are a threat we are well aware of. Securing the mine while ignoring them would leave us vulnerable. Lord Paul’s plan accounts for the bigger picture.”

Grag tried again to focus on his tether. The warm pulse of the fire mana flickered faintly, the ember within him barely alive. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to pull at it gently. It’s mine, he told himself, echoing Paul’s words. It belongs here.

But the argument continued to distract him.

Eryndral crossed her arms, her voice laced with irritation. “Fine. But don’t come complaining to me when someone else claims it. I’ve already given you fair warning.”

“Your warning is appreciated, as always,” Paul said, his tone carrying a hint of dry amusement. “But I trust my scouts and my judgment. The mine will be ours, when the time is right.”

With a dramatic swish of her robes, Eryndral turned on her heel and stormed out of the tent, leaving the faint scent of spring flowers lingering behind her.

Liora remained still, her sharp gaze following Eryndral’s retreat before turning back to Paul. “Do you want me to monitor her, my lord?”

Paul shook his head. “No. She’s not a threat, just impatient. Her ambitions align with ours, at least for now.”

Grag exhaled sharply, finally giving up on his meditation. “I couldn’t concentrate with all that going on.”

Paul chuckled softly. “That, too, is part of your training. The world will not quiet itself for you, Grag. You must learn to focus despite the noise.”

Liora glanced at Grag, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “He’s not wrong. If you’re distracted by a simple conversation, you’ll struggle in the chaos of battle.”

Grag glared at the floor, muttering, “I’m trying.”

“Good,” Paul said, his voice firm. “Keep trying. Strength and discipline come from persistence. Now, return to your practice. The world won’t wait for you to catch up.”

Grag nodded, closing his eyes once more. The ember within him flickered weakly, but he reached for it again, determined to prove he could hold it steady, even if the noise around him never stopped.