Chapter 41: Battle With The Goblins - Part 7

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was certainly the pain - a throbbing, awful thing, as though threatening to split Dominus' shin in half should he make a single false step. And yet, again, pain was something Dominus was able to deal with - it had to be, after living with the Pandora Goblin poison for so long. It was the lack of performance that hurt him. Now, all these years later, it stung to see his left leg in such a state, only able to perform at 10% of what it was capable of in the past.

"Such is the burden of old age," Dominus told himself. "But we've known this was coming for a long time. There should be no bitterness in our hearts towards it. We've done all we wished to do. We are satisfied, are we not?"

The old knight's head was filled with thoughts as he followed his apprentice. He saw Beam struggling along, his eyes wide open like a predator, scanning the route as they went and having to make instant decisions at forks in the path, guessing which way would be the right one. He was already breathing heavily, and there was yet a good distance to go.

Seeing the youth's valiant effort, Dominus couldn't help but smile. 'No, I suppose we're not satisfied quite yet,' he thought, finally able to be honest with himself. 'So please, body of mine, give me a few more months, if you can. Let us see just how far this boy is able to go.'

The longer they ran, the more Beam's breathing grew laboured and the more likely it seemed that he would have to stop halfway through. But then, something seemed to switch, for instead of growing worse, both his breathing and his pace stabilized. His body stopped panicking and started seeing the run for what it was – just a mere hour of lightly-paced travel through the dense forests and steep slopes. However difficult that was, the body would manage.

As soon as Beam's body stabilized, their pace grew much more constant, and his decision-making looked even sharper. He made the whole thing seem casual, as he settled into an almost meditative state, neither trying to get there too quickly nor going too slow to avoid the worst of the pain. Simply constant, balanced motion.

Nearing where Dominus knew their destination to be, he grew increasingly quiet as he observed his young apprentice to see what he might do. Whether or not he would recognize that the aura in the mountains had changed, that they had entered the territory of the Goblins.

There were physical signs of it too, rather than just the change in the air and the unusual quiet. The Goblins had left their marks on some of the trees; there were straight scratches where they had carved their presence into the wood with sharpened stone tools. An amateur might mistake it for the territorial markings of a bear and overlook it, but these were far too straight and clean.

Beam didn't seem to notice yet, for he continued along the path he was running, his breathing regular and his movements showing no signs of slowing.

Dominus didn't say anything yet. This was the boy's task, after all; he should learn the lesson himself.

Even without noticing the physical indicators of the Goblin's presence, Beam had already begun to put himself in an increasingly aware state, sensing that they'd covered the distance necessary, and if Greeves' information was correct, they'd soon be having a run-in with the vicious little barbarians that the world scorned as Goblins. historical

It was a footprint in the mud that made him come skidding to a halt. Now, the heavy rain - which had eased up only recently - was showing its blessing, with the thick, sticky mud encapsulating a single child-sized footprint.

"Goblins?" Beam murmured, catching his breath as he looked at it. He looked to his master for assistance or opinion, but Dominus merely shrugged, standing by his initial stance—that this was Beam's quest and his alone.

Seeing that he would get no input from his master, Beam looked at the footprint again. Whereas a normal human child might have had five toe prints in the mud, this one only had three. Not to mention, a normal human child shouldn't be running barefoot through the mountain forest anyway—not with the amount of poisonous insects they could step on that would quite willingly deprive them of a limb permanently.

The footprint was pointing north, deeper into the Black Mountains.

For the locals, the Black Mountains were a perfect orienting point, for they were aligned nearly exactly with north. Usually, wherever you stood, the Black Mountains would be visible, letting you know your relative direction as long as you could catch a glimpse of them.

Seeing that they were heading north, Beam frowned. He didn't know much about Goblins, but he did know that if they were anywhere, they were likely to be closer to the plains than deeper in the forest, high up in the mountains.

For high up in the mountains was where other beasts roamed, like giant spiders. The competition for the weaker species—the Goblin—would prove fatal.

Heading up into the mountains was strange to Beam, who had hoped they would follow simplistic patterns. Judging from their position, he guessed they were about twenty minutes of walking north of the plains. The footprint was quite bold, although not too deep into the forest. He was torn as he looked at it: would the Goblins be more likely to be north, now, judging by the footprint? Or had they only gone north to hunt? Would it be better then to try and find their nest, where they might be weaker?

Beam frowned as he fell into thought. "Will I really be able to attack a Goblin's nest though? It seems like that's more likely to be well-defended, since Goblins are meant to be pretty intelligent, after all, right?" Again, he looked to his master as he said that, searching for any sign of approval. But again, Dominus merely shrugged. Beam went back to his thinking.