Chapter 15

After a warm night under a roof and within four solid walls, we set out again and slipped back into our familiar rhythm - walk, train, walk, train.

I was growing more confident with the staff. Confident didn’t mean good, mind you. Could I win a fight? Maybe. If my opponent only had one arm. And was twelve. And severely crippled. But I was improving. Ashlara corrected my stance less often now, pointed out fewer mistakes. She stopped drilling just thrust, parry, strike, and started teaching me how to move and how to flow from one motion into the next without thinking myself into a knot.

Sometimes she took me hunting. I learned how to tell which direction we were traveling without the sun, how to read the broken grass and bent branches where animals liked to bed down. I hadn’t learned how to move quietly, but I did learn how to move quieter, which Ashlara assured me was progress.

Mirri’s lessons ranged all over the place. Magic, obviously - though I still couldn’t light so much as a dry match - but also herbs, history, and monsters. I was starting to recognize which plants she used for healing and cooking and which ones were just weeds pretending to be useful. Even without sparks or spells, I could feel my focus sharpening, like I was finally learning how to listen to the world and myself instead of just wanting things to happen.

I made a point of trying to engage Serah, even if only on the surface. Small questions. Harmless ones. Things that didn’t pry. She rarely answered more than necessary, but she didn’t shut me down either. She still didn’t open up, but I hoped my presence was more comforting than irritating.

And I practiced the guitar.

My scales were less clumsy now. Chords came back to me slowly, aching and familiar, like muscles remembering an old routine. I wasn’t ready to play a song yet, but for the first time it felt like that day might actually come.

* * *

The plains softened as we traveled northeast, the rocks thinning out until the land rolled more gently underfoot. Ashlara told me we’d crossed into human territory, though still close to the northern border. Reedwatch was less than a week away now, and Mirri would finally get to see her Grams again.

We stopped for the night in a village called Redwind, a place shared by humans and goblins. They seemed to coexist without much friction, which was heartening, given what I knew of humans and how goblins were usually depicted back home. It felt almost surreal. Then again, Mirri alone was enough to shatter every ugly stereotype I’d ever absorbed.

The buildings reflected that blend. Some were short and squat, others closer to what I thought of as normal-sized, though none rose higher than two stories. Still, judging by the oddly placed windows and glimpses through open doors, a few of those normal sized houses managed to cram three floors into their frames with ceilings low enough to make my neck ache just looking at them.

There was only one inn - The Lucky Rut. Its sign showed a deer… having relations with a buxom woman. I stopped, stared, and then decided not to ask. Inside, the room was warm and lively, lit by lanterns and crowded with locals. By the hearth, two goblins - a man and a woman - played music. He worked a strange instrument with a rounded box, side-mounted keys, and a crank at the end. As he turned it, a reedy sound poured out, something between a violin and bagpipes. She kept time on a small drum, weaving rhythm into his melody.

Three couples danced in the center of the room: two goblins, two humans, and one mixed pair. They laughed as they spun and hopped, unbothered by the tight space.

We claimed one of the last open tables. Before we’d ordered, a voluptuous goblin girl set down mugs filled with a golden liquid. She smiled brightly - until her eyes flicked to Mirri, her expression dimming for just a heartbeat before returning to pleasant neutrality. We ordered dinner, chicken with barley and root vegetables, and she moved off with a practiced sway.

Mirri took a drink, her shoulders a tight. She wore her usual cheerful expression, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. Sure!” she said quickly. Too quickly. I didn’t press, but the unease stuck with me.

I was relieved to find the mugs held a proper amber drink rather than small beer. It smelled faintly of hops and tasted sweet without being syrupy - a far cry from the normal beverage I had to chew my way through.

When dinner arrived, Mirri ate quietly. Not sulking, just distant - her attention fixed on her plate. When she did speak, she offered bright replies and quick smiles before retreating back into her thoughts.

Ashlara was fully engaged in her meal, and Serah seemed more interested in the dancers and musicians than in any of us.

We rented two rooms - they were small enough to demand it - and split up. Ashlara and I took one; Mirri and Serah the other. I lay down, but sleep refused to come. The heat rising from the common room below warmed the floorboards, the muffled music and laughter threading through the walls. Mostly, though, it was Mirri that kept me awake.

After nearly an hour of staring into the dark, I gave up. Lying there wasn’t helping anyone. Maybe a walk in the cold night air would clear my head.

At least, that was the idea.

* * *

Stepping out of the warm, crowded inn and into the dark, quiet street felt like a weight lifting from my shoulders. I’d never been great with people. I could fake it well enough to do my job, but every interaction came with second-guessing - —replaying conversations, cataloging every wrong word, every awkward pause. There was always that fear of looking like an idiot, followed closely by the realization that I’d managed it every time.

It struck me that I rarely felt that way around Ashlara or Mirri. Even Serah didn’t unsettle me much, though I was fairly sure she didn’t actually like me. Or maybe she just didn’t dislike me. I’d even managed to joke with her a few times without embarrassing myself. That felt like progress.

With the inn door closed behind me, the music and laughter faded into something distant, almost ignorable. I walked slowly, my gaze drifting upward to the stars. The sky here was alien, but Mirri had taught me enough that I could pick out a few familiar constellations - the Minotaur, the Dragon, the Wolf, the Bear.

Back home, even on a clear night, you were lucky to see a dozen stars. This was different. Without the glare of city lights or the haze of smog, the sky was crowded with pinpricks of light - more stars than I could ever hope to count. The moon hung overhead, pale green, trailed by “the Children,” a scatter of uneven fragments like broken pieces caught in orbit. A hazy band stretched across the sky, reminiscent of the Milky Way I’d seen in pictures, except here it swirled with muted reds and blues.

I stopped at the edge of the village. Somehow everything felt brighter at night without artificial light. The moon washed the plains in a mossy color, and I could see the wind ripple through the grass for miles, the hills rolling like a quiet ocean of gold. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. The breeze rustled softly. I wasn’t worried about muggers, wolves, or monsters. I felt safe - though I couldn’t say why.

I stood there for several minutes, soaking in the tranquility. But the restlessness didn’t fade. There was still a hollow feeling, an ache I couldn’t quite name. Something needed doing. I just didn’t know what.

I turned back toward the village, taking a different route, wandering between low buildings, half-hoping I’d stumble across whatever I was missing.

As I neared the inn again, I heard it - soft sniffing, the sound someone makes after they’ve finished crying. I followed it carefully, moving quietly, not wanting to intrude but unwilling to ignore it. Just beyond the inn, tucked between buildings, I saw Mirri.

She stood in the shadows, head bowed. The noise and joy from the common room were only a few steps away, yet it felt like she was worlds apart.

“Mirri,” I called gently. “Are you okay?”

She turned her face away and sniffed again. “Yeah… I’m fine,” she said, trying, and failing, to sound like herself.

I stepped closer. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Her shoulders shook with a silent sob. I didn’t know what else to do, so I wrapped my arms around her. The familiar uncertainty flared in my chest. Was this okay? Was I intruding? She was alone for a reason. But her tears pulled at me, and I couldn’t bring myself to let go. I held her and rocked her gently, my chin resting on top of her head.

She broke down harder, her body trembling as her tears soaked into my sleeves. “Mirri,” I murmured, “tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

She took several ragged breaths before **** out, “You can’t.”

“Maybe not,” I said softly. “But maybe talking will help.”

She shook her head, trying to swallow her sobs, then finally blurted, “I’m ugly.”

The word hit me like a slap. “What? Who said that?” Heat flared in my chest. “Was it someone inside? Mirri, tell me who it was.”

She shook her head again, harder this time. “Then who?” I pressed, anger simmering. I wanted a name. I wanted someone to blame. Someone to drag outside and make apologize. I wanted to hurt someone like they’d hurt her.

“You do,” she sobbed.

“What?” I stared at her, stunned. “Mirri, no. I would never—” I turned her gently to face me. “You’re beautiful. I could never think you’re ugly.”

“But I am,” she cried. “I’m small. I don’t have tits. And I can’t…” She clutched at me, her knees buckling again. “I can’t have babies.”

I froze, lost. I hadn’t known. I hadn’t even suspected. “Mirri,” I said quietly. “You don’t need any of that to be beautiful.”

She pressed closer, her voice breaking completely. “Then why won’t you fuck me?”

The question hung between us, raw and trembling, heavier than anything the night sky could offer.

“I… wait. I don’t understand.”

“It’s not that complicated,” she snapped through tears. “You have a cock. I have a cunt. You stick it in.”

“Mirri, that’s not how it- ok, that is how it works, but that’s not… I didn’t know…”

“How could you not know?” she cried. “I’ve thrown myself at you every chance I got. You clearly don’t like me.”

“No. Mirri, no. That’s not it.” I knelt in front of her, trying to catch her eyes, forcing myself to breathe. “I like you. I like you a lot. I just…” I hesitated. “I’m not good with women.”

She blinked, genuinely startled. “You prefer men?”

“What? No! I like women. I like you.” I rubbed my face and sighed. “Where I’m from, things are… different. You have to be careful. There are rules. If a guy acts the wrong way, even by accident, it can go very badly.”

“But great Granda said your world was full of peace and love…”

“That was… a long time ago,” I said quietly. “Now… some men are awful. They hurt people. They make women feel unsafe and uncomfortable. And because of that, sometimes it’s assumed we’re all like that. So you learn to be careful. You make absolutely sure. And even then, you’re careful.”

I met her gaze. “I didn’t want to mess this up. I like you. I like Ashlara. I like Serah. I don’t want to give you a reason to hate me. Or to leave. So I’m on my best behavior. I don’t want to be a creep.” I let out a humorless laugh. “You’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever met, Mirri. You’re young. You’re kind. You’re powerful. And I’m just… me. A fat, fifty year old guy. I’m out of shape. I’m not attractive. My hair is nearly white-”

“No it’s not,” she cut in.

“I- what?”

“Your hair isn’t white.”

“It’s almost white.” I rolled my eyes.

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s copper. Bright copper.”

“Heh,” I muttered. “In my youth.”

“No,” she insisted, looking me up and down. “And you’re not fat. You’re…” She glanced away shyly. “You’re really handsome.”

“Mirri, you don’t have to say that. I’m trying to make you feel better, not fish for-”

She suddenly grabbed me by the collar, dragging me stumbling with far more strength than I expected. Before I could protest, she dragged me out of the alley, snagged a lantern, and pulled me over to a nearby water trough.

“Look,” she demanded, shoving me forward.

The face staring back at me wasn’t mine.

Or rather, it was mine, just not now mine. It was me from twenty years ago. Maybe more. My hair was the auburn of my youth, my beard a similar color, only a little lighter. The pudginess in my cheeks was gone. The crows feet around my eyes had vanished.

I’d never been handsome, but this was… sureal. Like a miracle. Or a trick. Or a dream I was about to wake up from.

I lifted a hand and touched my face, watching my fingers move in perfect sync with the reflection. I dipped my hand into the trough, felt the bite of cold water, watched the ripples distort and then settle.

I turned to Mirri, my voice quiet and uncertain. “I’m… young again?”

She tilted her head, considering. “I don’t know about again, but yeah.” A grin spread across her face. “You’re a stud. Ashie and Serah agree.”

“What?” I blurted.

She shrugged like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re girls. We talk.” Then, far too casually, “We all wanna fuck you.”

My brain stalled completely.

“I mean,” she went on, unfazed, “Serah hasn’t said it, but I can tell. And Ashie-” she smirked “-she wants to, even if she’s scared ‘cause she’s a virgin.”

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t mind,” Mirri said. “Goblins are used to sharing. Sometimes matrons even loan out their studs. Strong men make strong babies. It’s what’s best for the tribe.”

“Hold on,” I said, raising both hands. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“What I’m saying is that I don’t mind if you fuck ‘em. As long as you leave some for me.”

I sat down hard on the ground and dragged a hand over my face. “I… this is a lot.”

“Not really,” she replied. “I want you to stick your cock in me. They do too. I’m ok with it. They’re ok with it. So just fuckin’ do it,” the exasperation clear in her voice.

“Mirri.” I blew out a long breath. “Can we just… slow down? Please. I like you. I really like you. But all of this-” I gestured helplessly between the trough, myself, her, and the night “I need time to process.”

She blinked. “Slow… sure. You mean like a blowjob?”

I laughed, helpless and a little hysterical. None of this felt real anymore. “Come here.”

I reached out and pulled her gently into my lap, wrapping my arms around her. “How about we start with a hug. Maybe some passionate hand-holding. And then we’ll see what happens next.”

She studied my face for a long moment, then smiled - soft, curious, and unguarded.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I wanna see what happens next.”