AILA
Like a gold cold lost in a latrine, Aila was concealing herself within a pile of garbage. The elf girl had grown accustomed to Midden, the region where Harborfell deposited its refuse, but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. Aila had patiently awaited the day when her vigil would end, and finally, that day had arrived.
Harborfell had many middens, of course, but there was only one Midden. As with any city, the close press of human bodies, beasts of burden, businesses, tourists, and traders, led inevitably to a crisis of waste management. A small settlement can make do with its citizens disposing of their trash and sewage each in their own way. After all, even animals know better than to poop where they eat. Something happens, however, when too many humans get together in one place. They forget their natural instincts, at least regarding basic hygiene, and they dump chamber pots out of their windows. It seemed to Aila that humans considered the streets and alleys around their tenements to be other worlds entirely. They looked with confusion and annoyance at their feet whenever they stepped into a pile of excrement, as if they had no idea how it got there.
Harborfell, in particular, being a port town with a constant influx of temporary residents, had a problem with waste. People who do not have permanent homes in a city are even less likely to care enough to carry their trash to designated disposal sites. The city government wrote laws that created an entire class of garbage men and women, including street sweepers, wagon loaders, and hygiene police.
Human waste has its uses in agriculture and tanning, and the larger players in those industries employed their own collectors of those natural products, but a lot of it still ended up in the alleys. As a coastal city, rich with the bounty of the sea, the mainstay of the diet of Harborfell was a split between fresh fish and a seemingly endless supply of mussels. Clam, oyster, and whelk shells had a way of piling up. In order to prevent Harborfell from becoming uninhabitable, the middens where people disposed of these leavings were scraped up and ported out to the great dump just outside of the city. Over the years, the dump grew so extensive that it became a local joke. Shell Town, they called it, their sister city. Oyster Castle, Smell Central, or simply Midden.
It was a regular Twosday in Harborfell. The sun was high, and the sea was bright, spotted with white sails and circling gulls. People were busy going about their daily lives, citizens at the edge of the Elswyre, the island of men. If you stood on the shore of Harborfell, you could see where the island ended and the All began. Humans dwelled primarily in Elswyre, the greatest of the Celestial Isles, they insisted, though the daily sight of ships flying in from the enclaves could only remind Harborfell’s populace that they existed as a small part of a much wider world. Aila would have much preferred being on the shore, instead of in the dump, but there was nothing for her there.
The lands of All were a flock of continents floating above the faintly luminous, forever boiling non-waters of the Barathrum. A sea of pure chaos, Aila did not look forward to crossing it again, though she would have to do so if she was ever to return to her homeland.
Amid the sprawling refuse of Midden, where the discarded relics of human endeavor lay strewn and forgotten, a treasure lay concealed. It was an egg, large and gray, its surface marred by the grime of the place, yet possessing an inherent dignity that belied its surroundings. A dragon's egg, a thing of myth, nestled in the refuse, was waiting with the patience of ages, though in actuality it had only been there about a week.
In a valley between the mounds, scarce meters from the egg, a family of goblins squabbled over a rotten fish. Their voices were shrill, and their gestures wild. The fish, its eyes glazed, and its scales dulled, already missing most of its meat, was a prize in this world of scavengers. Aila had been trailing them for some time and had concluded that this family was unique among the tribes of Midden. After nearly a year of filthy reconnaissance, she was satisfied that they were the most suitable candidates for what her master wanted.
Chul, the youngest goblin, with bright green skin and wide-set eyes under a shabby straw hat, was holding the fish. “Can’t I have some?” He pleaded miserably. “I found it. I should have some.”
His older cousin, Jiho, had a head of thick black hair slicked back with grease. He was immensely proud of his hair, and of his outfit, composed of the fishnets he had collected and painstakingly dyed the colors that were available to him. A casual observer might have said that they were all brown, but he would have corrected that observer, and then tried to stab them with a pair of scissors.
“It doesn’t belong to you, though, does it, Chul?” Jiho carefully explained. “It belongs to the gang, and the spoils of the gang have to be divided with fairness, you know that.”
“I guess,” Chul said, looking unconvinced.
Jiwoo, the eldest and shortest goblin, barely three feet tall, walked with the aid of a twisted driftwood cane. He nodded sagely at Jiho’s explanation, patting his pot belly. “He’s right. That’s good manners. I, as the grandfather, should have the head.”
“Maybe not the head,” Jiho said, “as the cleverest among us, it’s only right that I would get the head. After all, if I hadn’t stopped him, Chul would have eaten the whole thing by himself, and then where would we be?”
“I would?” Chul asked, genuinely concerned. The others ignored him.
“You always do this,” Sooji said. “You always make things so complicated.” She was Jiho’s twin, with the same angular features, but she appeared taller on account of the bright orange shock of hair that rose from her head like a pillar of domesticated flame.
“It’s not complicated,” Jiho replied. “It’s simple logic. As a goblin of utmost cunning, I should have the head to feed my tremendous brain. Jiwoo should have the insides, because he is the oldest and most in need of rich nourishment. You can have the tail, dear sister, because you are a tail kind of person, and Chul can have the spine, because that’s Chul food.”
“What about Seok?” Chul asked. He was used to this sort of treatment and was actually quite pleased that he would be allowed to have something.
Seok was not taking part in the conversation. He stood a few paces away, circling the group, scouting the hills and heaps around them, the self-appointed guardian of the gang, entirely naked. Seok always insisted that being naked helped him move better. Besides which, he liked to show off his muscles and his scars, not that they were particularly impressive. Despite his role as lookout, he failed to spy Aila slipping closer to the gang.
“Seok can have some ribs,” Jiho said, and it settled the matter. He held out a hand for the fish, which Chul passed over to him, and the group squatted on the squalid ground to divide the spoils.
“Hey!” Seok said, hooting in excitement. “Hey! Hey! Hey!” He had climbed halfway up the slope of the nearest heap before running back down to slap Jiho on the back and get his attention.
“Whaibif?” Jiho asked, sucking the eyes out of the prized fish head, annoyed at the interruption.
“I found something!” Seok was nearly dancing in his excitement. “Something different.”
Chul hopped up and started dancing as well. He didn’t know what was going on, but he enjoyed being included.
Jiho swallowed. “Can’t you see I’m busy, cousin?”
“You have to see!” Seok said excitedly. “Come see!” He ran back up the hill.
The other goblins, spurred by his enthusiasm, followed with their respective portions in their hands. Jiwoo had the ribs meant for Seok as well, and he stuffed them in his mouth while no one was looking.
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“What is it?” Chul asked, as they gathered around the object.
“A stone, obviously,” Jiho said. “A very smooth and pretty one.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Sooji snapped. “It’s an egg.”
“It’s too big to be an egg,” Jiho countered. “What kind of bird would lay something like that?”
“I don’t know what kind of bird, but I know an egg when I see one.”
Seok picked it up, grunting with the effort. “Oof, it is a stone. I know because eggs aren’t this heavy. You guys know how strong I am.”
“You’re barely as strong as I am,” Sooji said, “and it’s an egg. Clearly. Look at the shape. And the smoothness, that’s a shell.”
They bickered and snapped, each laying claim, even though they couldn’t agree what it was they were claiming, their words a rowdy chorus in the still air of the dump. Aila had grown used to their quarrels, and it always made her think of how crows would croak at each other in a murder. They meant nothing by it; it was just how they communicated. Jiwoo finished eating and tapped the object with his cane.
“It’s an egg,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”
“You think so?” Jiho said, “I’m sure you’re right. I was thinking the same thing.”
“What!” Sooji shrieked. “I’ve been saying it was an egg this whole time! You thought it was a stone.”
“Silly Soo,” Jiho gave her a condescending pat, “you’re always trying to steal my ideas.”
This sparked another argument, which continued as they made their way back to their den. Seok carried the egg, panting with the effort, but refusing to admit that it was too much for him. Aila followed them, flinching when Seok dropped the precious cargo when they were only halfway home. The others scolded him, but the egg was fine, and he insisted on picking it back up himself and carrying it the rest of the way.
They took a winding trail through mountains of refuse, past rusting anchors, and broken ship components to their den. A wooden board disguised with seaweed and moss served as a removable door, opening to reveal a cozy, chaotic home filled with scavenged junk.
Their den was a hollow space within a mountain of trash, supported by driftwood and rusted grating, dominated by the fire pit smoldering in its center. Tattered fabrics decorated the walls, and the floor strewn with trinkets; broken toys, interesting shells, and other shinies that the goblins had collected. They had lined the firepit with broken bricks and assembled a few old barrels and crates to use for furniture. Aila crouched beside the entrance, using [Hunter’s Blind] to ensure they wouldn’t notice her.
Seok dropped the egg down on top of one crate, and the half-rotted boards cracked under its weight.
“So strong,” he said to himself. “I am so strong.”
Jiho stared at the egg with a smug smirk. “Look at this, dear family. Look at this treasure I found for us.”
“You did?” Chul asked. He hadn’t argued with the others on the way back; he had hardly taken his eyes off the egg, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Seok flexed his arms. “We’re going to be famous because of this. I'll protect it. I'll be the great warrior of the egg!”
Chul picked up a rag from the ground and used it to wipe some of the grime that had accumulated on the shell of the egg, his well-worn hat askew. "The egg is pretty. I like the egg. If you protect it, I can keep it clean."
Sooji rolled her eyes, her sharp gaze fixed on the round gray treasure. "You all are acting like children. This isn’t just some trinket we can keep hidden away. We have to do something about it. We need a plan."
Jiwoo, leaning on his crooked cane, pulled a fishbone from one of his pockets, and used it to pick at his teeth. "We don’t need a plan. What do we need a plan for?"
“This could be important,” Sooji said, “like, really important. We don’t even know what it is.”
“It’s an egg,” Chul said helpfully.
“I mean, we don’t know what’s inside.”
“Of course, we know what’s inside,” Jiwoo spit out the fishbone. “It’s full of egg stuff. The goo. Delicious egg goo.”
At the mention of delicious egg goo, Jiho’s eyes took on a greedy gleam. The goblins could eat anything. It was how they survived in the Midden, but it was rare for them to have a chance at a feast like this.
Seok posed like a bodybuilder. "I'll protect it. No one will harm it while I'm here."
“Slow down there,” Jiho said. “Grandfather may be on to something.”
“Of course, I’m on to something. I’m fifty years old. You should all listen to your elders once in a while.”
“We have to think this through,” Sooji said, her voice firm. “This is a special, special thing.”
Her words took a moment to sink in. They all knew there was truth in them. In all the years they had spent together, eking out a squalid existence amidst the run-off of human society, they had found nothing but trash. The egg lay on the crate, a voiceless question, as Chul continued to smear the grime with his dirty rag, humming to himself. The goblins stared at it, each lost in their own thoughts, until Jiwoo broke the silence.
“We should eat it.” He said, and Aila tensed in the entrance. Surely, even goblins could not be this stupid.
Jiho grinned, but the others looked at Jiwoo in shock and disbelief.
"Eat it?" Seok exclaimed, tensing for a fight. "It's a treasure, not a meal!"
Sooji's face pinched. “Eat it? You’re crazy. Think of the potential, the creature that might be alive inside this thing. There could be anything in there. A dog, a bird, anything. We could raise it to hunt for us. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about scavenging anymore.”
Chul watched the others with wide eyes, suddenly afraid. “The egg is my friend. We can’t eat my friend again.”
Jiho's slicked-back hair seemed to bristle as he argued his case. "Think, fools! An egg of this size, this rarity! The taste must be beyond imagination. The nourishment, the strength it could give us!"
Seok's wavered. “The goo would make me strong?”
“Of course, it would!” Jiho jumped over to Seok and seized his shoulders with a firm grasp. “You would be stronger than an orc.”
Seok nodded. “I’ve always wanted to be an orc. They’re so tall.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Sooji waved her arms like a pair of windmills. “What are you saying? You’re the one who’s not thinking. Sure, we could eat the egg, and it would be delicious and nourishing. Or whatever hatches could feed us forever.”
“I don’t know about that Soo,” Seok said. “This is a big egg. What if whatever comes out of it is a monster, like uh… like a rhinoceros or something? It could be bigger than we are, and then it might want to eat us instead.”
“Good thinking,” Jiwoo said. “We’ve got to kill the rhinoceros now, before it turns on us.”
“Do you even know how to raise a rhinoceros, Soo?” Jiho asked.
“I could raise it,” Chul said. “I like animals.”
“Oh great,” Jiho said sarcastically, “you’ll make a great rhinoceros mommy. Remember when you wanted to have a rat for a companion? What happened then?”
“You ate it,” Chul said, in a small voice.
“Yes, well, I mean before that. It was a demon. A demon rat, you weren’t a good rat master at all, were you?”
Chul looked down at his feet. “I tried my best.”
“But your best wasn’t good enough,” Jiho said decisively, “and it certainly wouldn’t be good enough for this rhinoceros.”
“Maybe…”
“No maybes. This is happening.”
“But how would we cook it?” Sooji asked, forgetting that she had been the one in favor of keeping the egg.
"We should drink it raw," Jiwoo declared, his voice filled with excitement. “Imagine the taste, the texture, the pure essence of the goo. Mmmmmmm. There’s nothing like a good, raw egg running down your throat. It’s heaven. Heaven.”
"Raw?" Seok exclaimed. "That’s crazy. We should roast it over an open flame, seasoned with spices and herbs. A feast fit for warriors!"
Jiho, ever the executive, shook his head, his greased hair catching the light that filtered through a hole in the roof of their shelter. "Roasted? Too crude. We should poach it, gently, in a bath of fragrant broth. A refined dish, suitable to an intelligent palette."
Sooji's sharp gaze narrowed as she considered the options. “We could bake it. I could bake it in a crust of grains and seeds.”
“You don’t have any grains or seeds, Soo,” Jiho shouted in exasperation. “What are you thinking?”
“She never thinks.” Seok shook his head. “She never does.”
Chul wrapped his arms around the egg, looking desperate. “The egg is my friend.”
They ignored his complaint and continued debating the best method of cooking the egg, or not cooking it, as was Jiwoo’s preference. Voices raised, and limbs flailed, and if Aila hadn’t been watching them for as long as she had, she would have thought they were on the verge of violence. While they did often wrestle or strike each other, it was never with an intent to harm.
After several minutes of vociferous debate, Jiwoo's demand cut through the din. "Enough! I'm starving. Let's just eat the thing!"
The others paused, their culinary visions momentarily forgotten, as their stomachs growled in agreement. Aila prepared herself to intervene.
"Boiling," Jiho declared, ringing with authority. "It's simple, it's quick, it's practical."
The others agreed, all but Chul, who was nearly in tears. Seok volunteered to find a piece of scrap metal suitable to serve as a pot and ran out of the shelter before they could disagree with him. Aila shifted slightly so he could rush by her, mana slowly trickling out of her pool as she continued to maintain [Hunter’s Blind]. Jiwoo, Jiho, and Sooji turned to stoking the fire, gathering discarded wood and cloth from in and around the den, their minds focused on the meal to come as smoke filled their insufficiently ventilated home.
Chul, his sorrowful look slowly replaced by one of determination, watched them, his innocent eyes filled with resolve. "Chul will not eat the egg. The egg is my friend."
“You don’t have to eat it, buddy,” Jiho said, “more for us.”
As the others focused their attention on the fire, Chul seized his moment. He gently lifted the egg, cradling it in his arms, waiting to see if anyone would notice what he was doing. As was their custom, the others didn’t pay him any mind. Despite his youth, he was fitter than Seok, and though the egg was a burden to him, his hold on it was certain. He walked out of the den without another word.
Aila smiled.