"Some people hear voices. I hear a sword. And it never shuts up."
Somewhere in the damp, stinking depths of the Bruthar Shadow Forest, a hero was struggling with the fine art of waking up without feeling like a failure.
The first thing he heard was the sword's voice—sharp as ever.
"You're pathetic, even when snoring."
Kael didn't even bother moving. He just rolled his eyes.
"Sharp today, huh?"
"You wield me poorly. You walk like a drunk. And your breath could kill a slime."
Kael sat up slowly, his armor creaking alongside him. "Are we dying today? Fingers crossed."
He sighed and pulled his boot away from the fire. "Smells like burnt meat."
"Your boot is practically a grilled onigiri by now!""Enough nonsense, Kael!""Ah, great, you're awake. Now we can die with our eyes open.""There's a goblin."
Kael shivered, his teeth chattering. "P-p-party, huh...? D-d-did they start already?"
"Party? For them, sure. For us, just another terrible day."
Kael stepped out of the cave with shaky legs and squinted eyes. Tharon vibrated with irritation in his grip.
"Is this your combat stance?" Tharon grumbled dryly. "Where's the part where you dramatically bury me in your enemy's skull?"
Kael lifted the sword… and almost dropped it.
"You're holding me like a bent bamboo stick, idiot!"
A goblin growled. Kael growled louder—out of sheer panic.
"If you don't run, I'm fleeing."
The goblin lunged. Kael screamed—not out of courage, but reflex.
"AAAAARGH!" That was all he managed.
His arm wobbled, he spun Tharon wildly, and hit the creature square in what seemed to be its nose.
CLONK!
The goblin face-planted into the ground.
Silence fell. Kael's eyes widened.
Tharon trembled slightly, as if mocking him. "...You actually landed a hit?""I ACTUALLY HIT HIM?!""Pure luck. But yeah. Don't get used to it."
Two more goblins emerged from the bushes. One was drooling excessively. The other waved a cow bone like a weapon.
Kael paled. "More?""Now it's three.""T-three?!""Yup. Counting your self-esteem."
Two goblins faced each other, seemingly forgetting why they were fighting.
"This weapon is mine!" growled one, clutching the bone like a trophy. "No, it's not! I found it first!" retorted the other, licking away the saliva dripping from his mouth.
They tripped over each other, their fight turning into a confusing dance routine.
Kael swallowed hard, gripping his sword, unsure what to do. "Are you guys... fighting each other?"
One goblin bumped into the other and crashed face-first into the ground, groaning.
The remaining goblin turned to Kael, snarling: "YOU'RE NEXT, HUMAN!"
Tharon trembled, spewing venom. "I expected a massacre. Got a low-budget goblin comedy instead."
Kael stood there, confused.
The goblin charged, yelling: "YOUR TURN, HUMAN!"
Kael raised Tharon instinctively.
The goblin tripped on a root and… impaled himself on the blade.
"GLUB!"
Kael gawked.
Tharon trembled, now covered in green goo. "I'm an ancient relic, not a barbecue skewer."
Kael glanced at the other goblin, still lying on the ground, groaning.
"Do I really have to finish him?"
"Yes. He's still breathing. Apparently, disappointment wasn't fatal enough."
With a resigned sigh, Kael plunged the sword. "Forgive me."
"Forgive? Pfft. You should be thanking me. You just saved the world from a goblin with a crippling attention deficit."
Kael walked on, still hearing the faint whimpering of goblins in his head.
It wasn't guilt. It was embarrassment.
Tharon rested on his back, uncharacteristically silent for a few minutes. It almost seemed merciful. Almost.
"You do realize that last goblin's dying whimper is going to haunt your nightmares, right?"
Kael didn't answer. He was too busy remembering why he left home.
Oh, right. Hero. Prophecy. Talking sword.
Terrible idea.
The city appeared beyond the hill—Anselm, with its high walls and the smell of stale bread.
Kael stopped, watching the gates from a distance. "Think they'll let a failure inside?"
Tharon whispered, like salting an open wound: "Maybe. People love a disaster… as long as it arrives before lunch."
Kael sighed, his shoulders weighing heavier than his armor. "I should've left that damned rock buried in the ground."
Tharon chuckled—a dry, metallic sound. "And I should be in the hands of a champion. Yet, here we are."
End of Chapter 1