—Again, again, Goom? —squealed a little goblin, his ears trembling with excitement.
—Yes, yes! The story of the magical trees! —yelled another, still with dirt on his nose from digging.
I sat on the round rock by the fire. It wasn’t very big. The rock, I mean. Nor the fire. But for the children, it was enormous. They looked at me as if I were a wise old sage… even though I was barely older than them.
—Do you want to know how we started living here? —I asked, pretending to be mysterious.
They all shouted yes.
—Many moons ago, many, many… when I didn’t exist… nor your mothers… nor your mothers’ mothers…
Some laughed. I smiled too. I liked making them laugh.
—The goblins lived peacefully, even though there were many bad things out there. Orcs. Wolves. Big beasts with fangs like rocks. They all wanted to eat us. Do you know why?
—Because we’re green! —shouted one.
—Because we’re small! —said another.
—Because we smell weird! —said the mischievous one.
—No! —I answered, raising a hand—. They ate us because we didn’t run. And we didn’t fight. We just wanted to sleep, eat sweet fruits, and touch the earth.
Some shrank back, as if embarrassed.
—But that’s not bad —I continued—. We had a gift. A secret. One that they didn’t understand…
I leaned in a bit, whispering.
—Where we walked, flowers grew. Where we slept, fruits appeared.
The children went silent. Even the most restless one stopped scratching his head.
—The beasts didn’t know that. They hunted us. Almost wiped us out. But then… the flowers disappeared. The fruits too. And the earth… got angry.
Some goblins looked at the ground, as if afraid to disturb it.
—The beasts started to notice. They weren’t wise, not like the elders who spoke to the moons, but… they had something. They felt something was missing. That they had broken something that gave them life. And then, they stopped hunting us. Some came. They looked at us. They left things. Strange stones, shells, hides.
A child asked:
—Did they want food?
—No —I answered—. They wanted our herbs. Our fruits. And we learned to give in exchange. That’s how barter was born. Not with words. With gestures, with looks. And with time... we grew.
I fell silent for a moment, watching the flames. It was a simple story. But important. No one should forget that we were once almost nothing... and that it was peace that made us many.
—That’s how we are so many now —I concluded, gently tapping the ground with my palm—. That’s why we care for the earth. That’s why we don’t hunt. Because if we forget who we were... we’ll disappear again.
The little ones didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Only the crackling of the fire spoke.
And I watched them, thinking of the adults. Their calm eyes. Their voices that never raised in tone. They didn’t laugh, didn’t get angry. They weren’t afraid. They just walked with calm, with love for what surrounded them. That’s how they were. That’s how we would all be… when the time came.
Then a deep voice interrupted.
—Goom —said an old chief behind me—. It’s time.
My stomach tightened as if the roots inside me were moving.
It was time.
The adulthood ritual. The day every goblin stops being a child. The day that… changes.
I didn’t know much. Just that after the ritual, one didn’t feel the same. Emotions became soft. Only two things remained clear in the heart: love… and peace.
And maybe… that wasn’t so bad.
I stood up. The fire kept dancing. The children looked at me as if I were a hero, but I was just… full of questions.
Would the river choose me?
Would the slime find me?
Would I remain silent… forever?