“To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One Clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, if bees are few.”

Emily Dickinson, American Poet (1830 - 1886)

By the time the sun reached its zenith in the prairie sky, Milly’s hoodie was soaked with sweat. Her thighs burned and her feet ached, and a blister had started to form on her left ankle. Her sneakers, already on their last legs, were ready to fall apart.

They’d left the Castle of Glass without any water or food, and though she was used to skipping meals, her thirst caused her head to spin. Xavier never slowed their march, and she felt like she would collapse at any moment.

When they came across their first river, carving a lazy path through a field of wildflowers, she plunged her head into its cool, refreshing waters before he could protest. He looked at her with irritation as she drank deep.

“Milly, this water could be poisoned. It could give you diarrhea. And it’s not like we can just go to a pharmacy to get some medicine to make you better.”

“It’s the best water I’ve ever tasted,” she gasped, savoring the taste as it quenched her thirst. She splashed her neck and the relief was instant. “There doesn’t seem to be pollution in this world, Xavier. And what’s the alternative? Dying of thirst? We’ll have to drink the water here at some point.”

He scowled, irked at her response, but before he could reply, a high-pitched squeal erupted from nearby. He held his finger to his lips, and he crouched low beneath the tall grass to follow the animal path upstream. She took one last sip from the river and stayed close to him.

As they approached a clearing, he abruptly stopped, beckoning Milly to his side.

“This is what we’ve been looking for,” he whispered, pointing into the clearing.

She raised her head carefully above the grass. Thirty paces away, a squat green creature with sharp claws and a hooked nose crouched over the body of a deer. Its flesh was covered in boils, and its mouth was filled with pointed teeth. Its chin and bare chest were covered in the deer’s blood.

The creature traced its claw down the deer’s side and peeled away a section of meat. It shoved it into its mouth, consuming it raw. Blood streamed down the creature’s face as it savored its meal.

The goblin hurled the skin into the river. she gagged, recalling her deep drink of water.

I should have listened to Xavier.

“It’s a goblin,” he whispered excitedly, careful not to draw the monster’s attention. “The quintessential early game monster. Easy to fight—basically fodder for new players like us. Exactly what I was hoping for.”

This is surreal. It looks exactly like it would in a comic book or in a TV show. And Xavier wants us to fight it? I-I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it. And why does Xavier look so excited?

She stifled her gasp as the deer tried to stand up, its flank covered in blood. The goblin squawked in alarm as its meal tried to flee.

“No! Deer no go!” it demanded in a high-pitched wail. It grabbed a nearby stone and slammed it against the deer’s head, causing it to collapse.

“Great, it talks,” Xavier said sarcastically. “What a pain.”

“That poor deer,” she whispered, horrified. “It’s eating it alive.”

He rolled his eyes. “Lots of animals eat their prey alive, Milly. And if we are not careful, he’ll do the same to us. So keep quiet.”

“We should get out of here,” she urged. “I don’t want to do this.”

“No way. It took us half the morning to track it down, and now we’re going to kill it.”

Xavier glanced over at her and smirked.

“Unless you want to try to make another friend?”

“I’m not an idiot, Xavier. I get it. Tutoria told me we need to fight monsters to get stronger. It’s just…it feels so much more real now that we’re here. And I didn’t expect it to talk.”

“That goblin’s only purpose is to try to kill us, unless we manage to kill it first. Don’t think of it as alive. It’s just a bag of experience, waiting to be harvested.”

“That’s a really callous view,” Milly said, uncomfortable with the perspective.

He shrugged. “I’m not interested in a moral debate. If you don’t want to help me, I’ll kill it by myself. I could take this thing out with my bare hands.”

“But…”

“Just tell me what you saw when you looked at it,” he insisted, as he readied his longsword. “Did it have weapons? Armor? Every piece of knowledge is critical so I can devise a plan of attack.”

She frowned at the man. The gruff, obsessive Xavier was rearing his ugly head again.

“It has that rock, and a spear at its side,” she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Which side?” he asked impatiently. “Come on, hurry up, Milly. This thing could have friends, and I want to kill it before they get back.”

“His…right side?” she said uncertainty. “But I can double check if…”

“No, it might see you. Why do you think I’m not looking myself? Stay down,” he insisted. “What was it wearing?”

She scrunched her face in confusion. “Why does that matter?”

“Because if we go up against something heavily armored or, god forbid, with enchanted equipment, we’re dead. Come on Milly, get your head in the game.”

“It’s not a game,” she countered. “It may have been modeled after a video game, Xavier, but it feels very real. How do you know it isn’t actually alive?”

“What was it wearing?” he asked again, accentuating every word.

“Just a loin cloth covering…not nearly enough. But…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish. He slipped out of the tall grass, staying low with his sword clutched in a fierce grip.

She clutching her rusted spear tightly to her chest. Her heart pounded and sweat beaded on her forehead, stinging her eyes. Her hands grew clammy, which made it difficult to keep her grip on the weapon.

You can’t let him do this alone, Milly. Come on, be brave. Move your feet!

Only her feet felt glued to the earth as fear threatened to smother her. Her knees shook and her breaths came as shallow gasps. The seconds stretched on as Xavier crept closer to the goblin.

As soon as he reached the edge of the clearing, he erupted from the tall grass, dashing straight towards the monster. “Time to die, goblin,” he bellowed as a war cry, as he raised his longsword above his head.

His cry broke the paralysis that had glued her feet to the ground. Her spear clutched to her side, she rose above the grass, just in time to see the goblin hurl its fist-sized rock at Xavier’s head.

A resounding crack filled the clearing as the rock struck home. He collapsed in a heap, face-planting in the dirt. His sword skidded across the prairie soil, coming to rest at the edge of the river. Blood trickled down his face as he lay there, unmoving.

“Xavier!” she shouted in alarm. As soon as the word left her lips, she knew she’d made a mistake.

The goblin spotted the young woman in the oversized hoodie standing in the tall grass. A wicked grin of razor-sharp teeth stretched across its face. Casually, the goblin picked up its spear and headed straight for her.

It licked its tongue over its lips—a predator stalking its terrified prey.

Milly’s instincts screamed for her to run, and she fell back a step, her fear trying to assert control.

No! I’m not going to abandon him. He’s all I have, and I’m all he has.

“Y-you get away from him,” she tried to shout, though it came out as a tiny squeak. She held the spear ahead of her and waved it back and forth, trying to look threatening.

“Bad prey. No fight back,” the goblin snarled, stepping casually over Xavier’s body. It salivated as its eyes scanned her. “I eat you first. You have more meat than boy, and deer.”

Did that goblin just call me fat? Fatter than a deer?!

The fire within her flared to life, and she let the anger fuel her.

The goblin suddenly charged forward, closing the distance quickly—its spear held straight out to skewer her through the stomach.

She managed to twist her foot and dodge left at the last second, just enough to avoid its spear. The weapon’s tip sliced through the fabric of her hoodie just above her navel. An inch deeper, and it would have carved open her stomach.

Shit!

The goblin, expecting an easy kill, was thrown off balance by its prey’s sudden motion. As it turned towards her, its eyes filled with intense anger at its prey’s audacity, Milly kicked it in the stomach. It was a weak and feeble kick, but it was enough to send the off-balance, child-sized goblin tumbling to the ground.

She ran over to Xavier’s body and gasped as she saw the blood pooling around his head. He was breathing, but his breaths were ragged and irregular.

As the goblin got back to his feet, hatred filling its every movement, she stood protectively over him and stared back at it.

A gust of warm prairie wind blew across the clearing and traveled up the newly formed hole in her hoodie, bringing a welcome sense of cooling relief. She took a deep breath and pointed her spear at the creature.

Okay, Milly. Be brave. You can do this.

The Non-Canonical Aftermath:

“And the award for Least Useless Goblin goes to…” the ogre host shouts excitedly, opening the sealed envelope. “Goblin 42, for his work in Leveling Up In A Deadly Contest…With My Coworkers?!”

“Oh my god!” squeals Goblin 42, jumping up from his seat and rushing up to the stage.

“Goblin 42 was victorious in a one-on-one battle against a player,” the Author announces in a hushed whisper. “The loincloth he’s wearing tonight was designed by Vera Wang.”

Goblin 42 clutches his award, tears in his eyes. “This award is dedicated to my mom. I hate you mom! Thanks for not killing me like you did my siblings!”

“I always knew he’d grow up to be the most awful,” cries Gobin 42’s mom in the audience. “I hate you too son, I’m so proud of you!”