“BRING ME A FUCKING HEALER, NOW!”

  Grandma Mia opened her eyes, dizziness overwhelming her as she rose shakily from the blood-soaked ground. Her ears rang incessantly, and her body and face were smeared with crimson.

  Nearby, a man-sized goblin limped forward, dragging an injured left foot with exposed bone. The creature glanced at Mia, discarding its weapon with a clatter. As it attempted to sit, Gram appeared suddenly, grabbing the goblin’s head and slamming it into the ground with brutal force.

  Without hesitation, Gram seized a rock and brought it down on the goblin’s skull, splitting it open. Blood sprayed across him, yet he bore no visible wounds. Panting heavily, his gaze swept the chaotic scene before him.

  Spotting Mia, Gram shouted something, but the ringing in her ears rendered her unable to hear. She pointed to her ears, shaking her head. Gram understood, took hold of her arm, and urged her to follow him.

  On the other side of the camp, Reyanna stood amidst the charred remains of five goblins, their dying screams still echoing in her mind. She collapsed to the ground, panting, an arrow lodged in her left shoulder and a shallow cut marring her face. Blood dripped from her hair, streaking her already grimy skin.

  Gritting her teeth, Reyanna grasped the arrow and pulled it free without a sound, her breath hitching only slightly. “Come on, Reyanna, just go… just go,” she muttered, pushing through the pain to heal the wound with a shaky hand.

  She winced, gingerly touching her head where a large goblin had struck her earlier. Hearing movement nearby, she forced herself upright, beginning to chant a defensive spell.

  As figures emerged in the distance, Reyanna prepared to unleash her magic—then stopped. A group of knights and soldiers, led by a tall man with white hair, approached at a sprint. Relieved, she exhaled heavily and slumped back down, clutching her head.

  The leader, Dolny, was a young warrior with an unscarred face, save for a cut on his left ear. His right hand was missing a finger, and his light armour, unusual for someone of his rank, bore streaks of dried blood. His hands were bare and equally stained.

  Dolny stepped forward and asked, “Are you alright?”

  Reyanna raised a brow, her tone sharp. “Are you fucking with me?”

  Dolny glanced at the carnage surrounding them. “The goblins attacked out of nowhere. We were in the city when we saw the smoke. Thank god they burned the tents, or we wouldn’t have known.”

  Reyanna gave a dry, mocking laugh. “That was me. I burned the tents so you’d notice.”

  Dolny blinked in surprise before offering a small smile and a nod. “Thank you. Your quick thinking saved lives today.”

  Reyanna scanned the area, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. “There’s an old woman and a doctor—Mia and Gram. They’re my companions. There are other good people here too, along with many injured soldiers. Send your men to help them.”

  Dolny nodded briskly. “Already on it. Fortunately, the goblins were few, so casualties are minimal. They were likely a scouting group.”

  At that moment, Gram emerged from behind a tent, Mia leaning on him for support. His sharp gaze swept over the knights before settling on Reyanna, who stood and walked toward him.

  Gram stepped forward and pulled her into a firm hug. Reyanna kissed his forehead, her voice trembling. “Oh, I knew you’d be safe. I hoped... wished...”

  “Shhh,” Gram interrupted softly. “Let’s rest first.”

  Reyanna turned her attention to Mia, who gave a tired smile. Guiding her to a chair, Reyanna helped her sit down and began examining her ears.

  Reyanna met Mia’s weary eyes and signalled slowly, “Mia... this... will... hurt.”

  Mia gripped the chair tightly, nodding hesitantly. Reyanna retrieved a small medical spoon, the kind soldiers’ doctors used to clean wounds and ears.

  Glancing at Gram, who watched her intently, Reyanna said, “You’re exhausted and shaking. Since there’s no doctor available, I’ll do this while you supervise.”

  Gram hesitated before standing. He steadied himself and gave her a firm nod. Reyanna carefully inserted the spoon into Mia’s right ear.

  Mia’s breath quickened, and her body trembled as the pain surged. She let out a strained, muffled scream, the kind that spoke of agony restrained by sheer willpower.

  Blood dripped from her ear as Reyanna pulled the spoon free, revealing it covered in blood and embedded wooden splinters. Mia slumped forward, panting heavily.

  Reyanna leaned closer. “Mia, can you hear me?”

  Gram shook his head, his expression grim. “Not with this much blood. Give me the spoon.”

  Reyanna handed it to him and stepped aside as Gram crouched beside Mia. He took a deep breath, steadying himself to calm the shaking in his hands, before gently holding her left ear. “This one seems worse,” he muttered. “She’s in more pain here; there must be larger shards.”

  Mia’s trembling intensified as Gram worked methodically, extracting another shard. Blood flowed more freely than before, staining his hands.

  She closed her eyes tightly, as though willing the pain to disappear. Gram retrieved a particularly large splinter and glanced at Reyanna. “Is her right ear clear?”

  Reyanna, her hands stained red, nodded. “It’s fine for now. Even if the bleeding restarts, I can use my magic.”

  Gram gave a faint smile. “That’s why I became a doctor. Magic has its limits—some things need old-fashioned methods and steady hands.”

  Reyanna gently packed Mia’s right ear with cotton, securing it with a bandage before turning to assess the left ear. She frowned at the profuse bleeding. “Why isn’t she screaming? This must be unbearable.”

  Without looking up, Gram replied, “She wants to, believe me. She just doesn’t have the strength.”

  Nearby, a guard helped an injured soldier into a freshly erected tent. Surveying the scene, he took note of the doctors and witches rushing to treat the many wounded. His scowl deepened as his eyes landed on Reyanna and Gram.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Samuil strode over, his voice edged with irritation. “We have plenty of injured here. Leave the old lady! Even if she survives, something else will kill her soon enough!”

  Gram didn’t look up, his focus unwavering as he continued tending to Mia’s ear. Reyanna met Samuil’s glare without flinching. “Mia is a doctor and has been vital to us. Losing her would be a greater cost. Now, fetch water for that soldier and stay with him until we finish.”

  Samuil hesitated, muttering under his breath, but eventually turned away, heading back to the injured soldier he had brought in earlier.

  Suddenly, everything plunged into darkness. Sound vanished, scents disappeared, and the world dissolved into an oppressive silence.

  "Mia? Mia? Wake up!" Reyanna’s desperate voice echoed faintly into the void, swallowed by silence.

  Mia’s eyes fluttered open. She found herself in a campsite, a small fire flickering nearby. Turning her head, she spotted Leon sleeping peacefully in a nearby tent. As she reached out to extinguish the flames, a voice stopped her.

  "Leave it. I need it."

  Startled, Mia turned to see a goblin with a nightly blue complexion and auburn hair. His toothless mouth curved into an odd smile, and he wore a large white coat. His gaze was sharp and intent.

  "Leave the fire. I want to see," the goblin repeated.

  Recognition dawned on Mia’s face. "Bennard? Are you still working on your poem?"

  Bennard nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Today, I’m visiting Guty City with you for the first time. I just hope no one shoots me down when I try to impress some people."

  Mia chuckled, offering him a reassuring smile. "You’ve helped countless adventurers. Even the guild accepted you as the first goblin adventurer. Who’s going to shoot you?"

  Bennard smiled warmly as he organized a pile of papers. "You know, I’ve always loved poems. Words have the power to reach people—to lighten hearts, bring tears to their eyes. Words will always hold power, alongside the sword, of course."

  "Why did you become a poet when you’re so skilled with a sword?" Mia asked, her gaze drifting to the dancing flames.

  Bennard hesitated, searching for the right words. "Well, my mother loved poets. Sometimes, she’d steal poems from passing merchants. They’d either run or attack if we approached, so she’d take the poems and leave coins behind."

  "That’s not stealing!" Mia laughed.

  Bennard ducked his head, smiling bashfully. "I know, I know. But back then, we didn’t even understand how much they were worth."

  Mia nodded knowingly. "In these times, they’re worth nothing. Please, go on."

  Bennard’s eyes lit up with nostalgia. "There weren’t many poets my mother could read, so she’d cherish the few she had, reading them over and over. One day, this goblin boy—you’re looking at him—decided he’d write the greatest poem for his mother, one that would last through the ages."

  "And?" Mia asked, leaning closer, her curiosity piqued. "What happened?"

  Bennard grinned broadly. "At first, I wrote a terrible poem. No grammar, just a jumble of clumsy, poorly chosen words. But she loved it. She encouraged me to keep writing. That’s when I began to train myself—to understand words, to feel their meaning, to harness their power and use them to weave little adventures for anyone willing to listen."

  Mia studied him thoughtfully. "Why did you start saving people? Soldiers, merchants, strangers? I never asked because I thought it might annoy you, and then, over the years, I just forgot to."

  Bennard’s smile faded into a contemplative expression. "There are two kinds of goblins—the ones you know well, and the ones you’ve never met. My kind belongs to the latter. We’re part of a more civilized group. But because of the actions of our more... traditional kin, we’ve been forced to hide, building our communities far away from humans and those savage counterparts."

  Mia chuckled softly. "A fitting description of your situation."

  "That's why..." Bennard paused, his voice suddenly filled with passion. "That's why, if I can build an honourable reputation, I can send my sister Qira here to study and live in peace. I can help my community thrive if I can build bridges between us."

  Mia was taken aback by his sudden outburst of enthusiasm. His ambition, coupled with the mix of excitement and fear in his voice, was palpable. Quickly, he regained his composure and apologized. "My apologies for my sudden excitement."

  Mia shook her head gently. "It’s okay. We’ve known each other for years, and you’ve never raised your voice, cursed, or spoken ill of anyone. I’m just glad you’re opening up."

  Bennard nodded warmly. "My sister, Qira, is eager to meet you. I’ve told her all about our adventures, and she’s looking forward to meeting you, Leon, and everyone else the next time we visit my parents."

  Mia smiled. "I’m looking forward to meeting your family, friends, and especially Qira. Please forgive us if we ever do anything wrong."

  "No need for apologies," Bennard replied sincerely. "None of us are perfect. Failures, mistakes, regrets, and problems—they come whether we accept them or not."

  As Mia prepared to stand, she reflected aloud, "When I think of you, Bennard, I feel like the world could be as peaceful as your heart, old friend."

  Bennard’s smile softened, nostalgia flickering in his expression. "Peaceful... huh? Maybe it can be. Thank you, Mia."

  Mia nodded and turned to walk away, but Bennard called after her, "Mia?"

  She paused, looking back. "Yes?"

  Bennard hesitated briefly, then said, "I... I’ll always be beside you. Whatever hardships you face, just close your eyes and listen. My poems will reach you. Don’t forget that."

  Moved by his words, Mia smiled warmly and bowed her head. Bennard mirrored her gesture, tears glistening in his eyes. "Old friend," he whispered, "now you have to wake up."

  Mia’s eyes opened. She was lying on a bed, surrounded by injured soldiers, guards, witches, and doctors tending to the wounded from the recent attack. The memory of her dream with Bennard lingered, filling her with a sense of comfort.

  Summoning her strength, Mia pushed herself to sit up. At that moment, a soldier entered, carrying a young female knight drenched in blood and unconscious. He glanced at Mia gratefully and said, "Thank you for the bed!"

  Mia nodded as the soldier gently laid the knight down. Fear flickered in his eyes as he added, "She held the goblins off until we arrived. There’s blood everywhere!"

  Mia began removing the knight’s armour, carefully assessing her vital points—chest, neck, head. Finding no fatal wounds, only a few sword cuts, she reassured him, "She won’t die. She’ll bear many scars, though."

  The soldier let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Scars are just part of our life. I’m just glad she’s safe."

  Mia’s gaze shifted to the soldier’s armour, noticing yellow-painted spots on his neck and arms. "Guty city?" she asked.

  He nodded. "Yes. We were dispatched here weeks ago. This place is pure hell. We’ve been doing well guarding the city—dealing with a few criminals and always able to call for backup when needed."

  Mia rose, gathering bandages to tend to the injured knight. Turning back to him, she said gently, "You can leave now. She needs rest."

  The soldier hesitated, his voice trembling. "Can I stay? She’s my sister. I... I can’t bear to leave her like this."

  Mia’s expression softened. "You may stay, young lad. Just stay calm and let everyone rest, please."

  He nodded gratefully. "Thank you. My name is Dominic, by the way, and her name is Syna. Thank you so much, Doctor."

  Mia offered a warm smile. "Mia. Rest beside her. You’re in no condition to be up either."

  Dominic nodded again, settling on the ground beside his sister. He rested his head on the bed’s edge, closing his eyes. Though the position was uncomfortable, Mia understood his need to stay close.

  Meanwhile, at the Shop. Yoka applied a healing potion to a dry cloth and began tending to Dam’s swollen eye. As he gently dabbed the cloth, he noticed Dam didn’t flinch, his lack of reaction unnerving.

  Dam’s gaze remained fixed on the ground, his right eye reflecting deep pain and torment, though his body was rigid and unyielding.

  Breaking the silence, Dam muttered in a voice heavy with exhaustion and defeat, "This world is cruel."

  Mia emerged from the tent, rubbing her ears. The pain had lessened, but it lingered. She gazed at the sky, murmuring softly, "Bennard, my old friend, this world is indifferent."

  Dam continued, his voice filled with bitter resolve. "Only power, blood, and coins can save your soul."

  Mia whispered as she watched the resting soldiers, "Bennard, only patience, love for others, and kindness can save us."

  Dam glanced at Yoka with a pained expression, his words laced with anger and regret. "You end up being ruthless, a monster, a manipulator, a killer... or all of these."

  Mia smiled faintly, her thoughts drifting to Bennard. "No matter how cruel this world is, kind, loving, and passionate people will always exist. As you did, old friend."

  Dam’s voice cracked with fury and agony as he hissed, "I hope the cruel die! I hope they burn alive! I hope they suffer!"

  Mia stepped into another tent to tend to a wounded soldier. Her thoughts remained with Bennard. *I am holding onto hope that this world will show us as much kindness as we’ve given to its people. I hope my loved ones are safe.*

  She paused, her heart heavy. *And... what about you, Bennard?*