Flogga.
If anyone could help with this, it’d be her. I considered her one of the wisest among us.
If there was inspiration to be found, she’d know where to look.
I dismissed the screen, letting the glowing text vanish from view.
My gaze lingered on the grave one last ti, the black stone still humming faintly with the remnants of power.
Then, without wasting another second, I turned and bolted from the chamber, pushing my legs hard in a deliberate effort to shave off the distance left on my running task.
The air outside the cave hit like a wall—thin, dry, and cool.
I slowed to a brisk walk as I reached the mountain’s edge, my chest rising and falling with each breath.
Panting, I stepped up to the cliffside and looked down.
From my vantage point, I spotted movent at the base of the slope—Narg, barking orders as he directed the new recruits. They were hauling supplies—sacks of dried at, salvaged weapons, bits of gear we’d taken from our old cave.
Efficient as always.
I blinked down at them, and almost imdiately, Narg looked up and spotted . He waved once, then jogged up the slope with his usual hurried energy.
"Chief, you’re back," he said, stopping a few feet away and scanning my face. "How did it go?"
Well, I guess it went fine—if you ignored the part where I was nearly strangled to death by Lord Drugar himself.
I glanced at Narg, his face lit with the usual loyalty and optimism, and paused.
Should I tell him what really happened?
The truth hovered on my tongue for a second, but I pushed it back down.
No. This wasn’t sothing he needed to carry. He wasn’t a Chosen, and this sort of divine insanity wasn’t sothing he could even begin to relate to. It would only weigh on him, or worse, cause unnecessary fear.
So I offered the version of the truth that mattered most.
"The consecration was successful," I said, nodding once. "The graveyard is active. We’re bound to it now. That ans we don’t have to fear true death on the battlefield, not unless the graveyard itself is destroyed."
Narg’s face lit up. He clenched his fist with a grin and gave a sharp nod.
"Great!" he said, clearly pleased. "That changes everything."
Then, just as quickly, his tone shifted back to business.
"Once we finish gathering the food and inventory from the old site and combine it with what the clan already had in storage, I’ll compile a full report," he said, already sounding like a logistics officer. "You’ll have the numbers—supplies, weapons, and manpower. That way, we’ll know exactly what we’re working with, and where we’re still lacking."
"That would be great," I said, giving Narg a thumbs-up. "Keep up the good work."
He gave a quick bow, then jogged back down the slope, already barking instructions before he even reached the others.
"Hey! That’s too heavy—two of you carry it. And be careful with that! If it blows, you’re not gonna have a fun day."
I let a small smile tug at my mouth as I turned away.
Narg had things under control.
Now, I needed to find Flogga.
I started weaving through the scattered goblins and piles of supplies, eyes scanning for her distinctive hunched figure and crooked staff. But before I could make it far—
A flicker of movent caught my eye.
The ember fox.
She stepped into view from between two rock outcroppings, her fur glowing faintly with that ever-present ember-like shimr.
"Aren’t you supposed to be watching Zivra?" I asked, slowing to a stop.
She didn’t respond—at least, not with words. Her golden eyes locked onto mine as she circled around , tail swishing with casual elegance, like a predator appraising its prey.
"You seem to be fine," she said, her voice calm but laced with sothing I couldn’t quite place—curiosity? Disapproval?
"What are you talking about?" I asked, frowning slightly.
She stopped circling, then fixed with a sharp glare. Her eyes, golden and piercing, held none of her usual detached calm.
"I sensed it. You...we almost died," she said, voice low but firm. "What happened?"
I froze for a split second, caught off guard—not because I was surprised she knew, but because I hadn’t expected her to confront about it.
Of course, she sensed it.
Our lives were linked.
If I was on the edge of death, it ant she was too. It worked both ways. That was how I’d felt her distress back when she’d crossed paths with Jael during her pursuit of Ingrid.
She’d nearly died then. I’d felt it.
So of course, she’d feel it now.
Still, just like with Narg, I hesitated.
Even if I told her everything, would she really understand? The divine pressure. The confrontation with Lord Drugar. The light that exploded from my body and scared off a god’s avatar.
No. It would raise more questions than answers—and I didn’t have the patience or the certainty to deal with either right now.
So I did what I always did when things got too heavy. I shrugged it off.
"It’s nothing I haven’t already handled," I said casually, turning to walk past her. "Forget about it."
Her voice sharpened.
"Forget about it?" she snapped. "My life is at stake, too, goblin. Whatever happens to you is my business, because I’m the one who dies when you do."
I stopped walking.
My shoulders stiffened as I turned slowly back toward her, narrowing my eyes.
"You forget fox, no one asked you to rge with . You chose this. Don’t act like I was the one who initiated our cursed bond."
She frowned at my statent, glaring, and I stared back unrelenting.
Our eyes locked, neither of us blinking.
The tension between us surged, heavy and sharp, like the crackle of a storm building just beneath the surface.
This wasn’t new.
I’d been ignoring this, pretending it was sothing I could manage.
But deep down, I knew this was sothing that couldn’t keep going unspoken forever.
Eventually, sothing would snap.
But I wasn’t going to deal with this now. Not yet.
I turned away without another word, forcing my steps forward. There were more pressing things to deal with.
I took a few more strides before stopping, blinking as I rembered what I was doing in the first place before I ran into her.
"By the way," I said...
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