The sky was still light gray when they reached the river.

The trees whispered. The water flowed silently. And the mist rose gently, as if the world were holding its breath.

The young goblin, no longer a child, stepped to the edge. He took a deep breath. And without looking back, he dove in.

I watched from the shore. Beside me, the middle goblin sat cross-legged, in silence.

The morning light touched our cheeks. The river was still.

And in that suspended moment, her voice, soft as dew, broke the silence.

“When my time comes… I want to do the ritual too.”

I didn’t answer. Just glanced at her, curious.

She didn’t look at me. Her hands rested on her legs, and her eyes were fixed on the water.

“But I don’t just want to be like the others. I want to be like you.”

A silence.

“And when he”—she pointed to the water—“has his slime… I’ll take care of him. And the little one too. And you, if you ever grow tired.”

I swallowed. Said nothing. What could I say?

But something warm rose in my chest. Stronger than the breeze. Deeper than memory.

I nodded. Just once.

And then, the water stirred.

A slime. Blue. With a golden sheen to its body.

It approached the submerged goblin. Touched him. And did not leave.

The young one emerged from the water with the slime in his arms. Eyes shining. Chest firm.

I stepped closer. And looked into his eyes.

He said nothing. Just looked at me… waiting.

And without hesitation, I placed my hand on his shoulder.

“You have a name now,” I said, voice low but steady.

The wind stopped. The river too.

“You will be called Nol.”

The young one blinked. His lips trembled. And for a moment… he didn’t seem to know whether to smile or cry.

But then he nodded.

On the way back to the cave, we walked in a line through the ferns. No one spoke.

But when we were nearly home, I turned to the middle goblin.

She looked at me, attentive.

“When your time comes,” I said, “I’ll give you your name.”

She smiled. Big. One of those smiles that makes your eyes hurt from happiness.

“Promise,” she whispered.

I nodded. And we kept walking, with the daylight gently touching our steps.