Young Writers Society

The Goblin Leader asked for her specifically. Her. Which meant that there was no getting out of the situation ahead, whatever it may be. His cronies lead her through the tunnels beneath Falland Mountains, trying to make her unsure of all the possible escape routes.

So far, Laikynn had counted twelve exits she could use if things got messy.

“You will bow before the king,” Her guard was telling her as they passed an ancient door for the fifth time, “Because he is far greater than you can ever hope to be, human.”

Laikynn didn’t feel like reminding her guard that he himself was nothing but a human, too. And he had no idea how great Laikynn really was.

“Alright,” She smiled, humouring him for the sake of it. This only seemed to irritate the guard more - if that was possible. “Is there anything else I desperately need to know before you take me past the mess hall for the sixth time today? I’m beginning to get bored, and that never ends well.”

All her guard did was lead her through a passageway they’d been through many times; and all Laikynn could do was roll her eyes. But to Laikynn’s utter shock, her guard took her down a different tunnel, which - by the way - was the literal definition of fat man’s hell. Her hands were cuffed behind her, her guard behind her also, giving her no choice but to move forward. So Laikynn moved onwards, trying to work out how they got the Goblin Leader through the tunnel in the first place. It wasn’t uncommon to hear tales about the Leader’s greatness in local taverns if you went in for a drink - greatness as in obesity, not as in ‘big bragging rights’ greatness - and it was well known that his favourite local delicacy was cricket and blackberry dumplings, a very fattening treat.

The tunnel finally let out into large, candle lit throne room, with beautiful red carpets and gold decorations on the walls and ceiling. The Goblin Leader was seated facing the entryway, on a throne placed against the back wall that raised him high above everyone else in the room by at least two, maybe three feet. His grey, almost white hair was tied back with a leather band, and a table beside the throne held many different foods - although none that Laikynn was in a hurry to try. Many human guards lined the sides of the scarlet carpet, staring impassively ahead, weapons ready in their hands. Every one of the wardens was human. The Leader didn’t like using his own people as his bouncers.

Laikynn strode up the centre of the room, straight down the middle of the scarlet rug, her guard hot on her heels. She stopped before the Leader, opening her mouth to speak, when a pressure between her shoulderblades forced her to the ground.

“I told you to bow before the Leader, peasant,” The guard growled in her ear, “You’ll do well to remember what I say in the future.”

“Could a mere peasant have slaughtered a whole community of you monsters in the south?” Laikynn snarled, “I don’t think so.”

“Jayden, Jayden,” The Leader spoke around a mouthful of sugar coated Queen Ants, “Leave the girl alone. I need her alive for the operation to succeed, remember.” If she were her guard - Jayden - Laikynn would have punched him for using such a patronizing tone. But all he did was kick her to the ground before striding over to stand beside a blonde warden, his eyes never leaving Laikynn as she stood from the floor and fixed her honey coloured gaze on the Leader.

“I enjoyed the tour,” She smiled, “Although a little conversation would’ve been nice.” The Leader’s face remained stony as he beheld her ash-tinted hair, her slim but leanly muscular shape, and the casual leggings and loose undershirt that she wore.

“How in all of the world did you of all people manage to kill a whole, intire Goblin community?” He asked, the questi"Weed to explain it to you.” Laikynn answered with a small shrug, and the beat of Goblin Leader’s fingers stilled.on seemingly rhetorical. More Queen Ants got shoved into his big, yellow toothed mouth. His fingers started to drum a steady beat on the arm of his throne. He appeared to be waiting for an answer. So Laikynn gave him one. 

"Well, intense planning and a many, many weapons were involved, but other than that, I don’t feel the need to explain it to you.” Laikynn answered with a small shrug, and the beat of Goblin Leader’s fingers stilled.

“Are you an assassin, Laikynn Roarke?” The Leader asked, leaning forward and clasping his fingers in front of himself, elbows braced on his knees. 

“Maybe.” Laikynn answered, picking at the dirt under her broken fingernails. “I have a question for you, Mr Goblin Leader: Why am I here and what do you want me to kill?”

“That’s two questions,” He stuffed more ants into his mouth as he spoke, spraying legs and antenna everywhere, “And how do you know that I want you to kill someone?"

“You asked if I was an assassin.” She said, stepping back to avoid the ant parts flying her way. "And I get the feeling that you work on a need to know basis. You wouldn't have asked if you didn't need to know."

“Still.” He shrugged. Laikynn gazed back, long enough for the Leader for to sigh and sit back again.

“I need you help.” The Leader spoke reluctantly, and swallowed what appeared to be a load of saliva. Laikynn raised an eyebrow. “There’s a prince, asleep in the Southern Woods in Fairscape. I need you to wake him for me.”

Everyone knew the tale of the sleeping prince. He was cursed on his first birthday, by one of thirteen wise women, to fall into the deepest sleep on the day he turned seventeen. When he turned seventeen, and the fell down sleeping, so did all of the castle. The only thing moving was a thorn bush. It grew and grew and grew until the whole castle was coated in thorns, so nobody could get in. Only the right person or people would be able to survive the thorns to save the sleeping prince.

“Why me?” Laikynn inquired and the Goldin Leader almost rolled his eyes.

“Well, you did take down a whole community of my people in the South.” He sighed through his nose. “Look, girl, I really, seriously don’t like you, but I really, seriously need someone to wake up this prince. So can you just do it and not complain?”

“Only if you tell me what I’m going to be getting out of it.” Laikynn reasoned, and the Goblin Leader once again sighed through his nose.

“Well, let's just say that your crimes against the Goblins are punishable by death,” He made weird little hand gestures as he spoke, “And if you do this for me, I won’t kill you.”

It appeared that she was going to die either way. And Laikynn would rather not die at the hand of the Goblin Leader (mainly because of her pride, but also because he was known to torture before killing, and Laikynn didn’t fancy being tortured) so she nodded, telling the Leader that she’d do it. She would awake the sleeping prince.

Something like relief spread itself across the Leader’s grotesque, green features as he motioned to one of the guards, thankfully not Jayden this time, and Laikynn was once again dragged through fat man’s hell, past the dinner hall and then down a really deep set of steps that lead to a door into what appeared to be a dungeon. She turned to her warden, and raised her eyebrow in question.

“Sadly, no,” He chuckled, “We need you to chose one of the slaves for here to take with you. Go pick.” He undid her cuffs and pushed through the door, then followed her in, only to stand beside the entryway. Candles lit themselves throughout the long room, showing cells lining the walls, the slaves lying on thin pieces of cloth. Water dripped from the ceiling, making puddles on the rough cobblestone floor. A small gasp left Laikynn when she saw, and a few of the slaves looked up.

“What did you do to get in here?” One of them called, Laikynn walked towards the voice.

“Nothing.” She replied, and the voice laughed.

“That’s what they all say!” He chuckled, and the others murmured in agreement.

“Well, I probably should be in here, but I need to borrow one of you for a couple weeks or so.” She stopped before the cell containing the speaker, who was standing by the bars, watching her with icy blue eyes.

“We’re not objects that you can just borrow, y’know,” He glared, and Laikynn shrugged.

“I”m not an idiot,” She smirked, “But I need one of you so the big green dude on the throne up there won’t kill me. Whaddya say? You want to get out of here?”

The slave blinked a couple times, as though he couldn’t believe that he would get the chance to leave. Laikynn stared at him for a few seconds, arms folded against her chest, waiting for him to snap out of it. When she’s turned away and was standing with her back to him, he finally crowed, “Hell yes, bitches! My time has come!”

Laikynn’s guard stepped forward, removing a ring of keys from his belt. He unlocked the prison cell, releasing the slave boy, who came charging out and over to Laikynn.

“He’s gonna execute you? Wow. They hardly ever do that round here. You’ve seriously pissed him off.” He laughed, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I am sort of the one who killed that town in the South,” She nodded, “So I probably did piss him off some.”

“That was you?” Laikynn gave a small wave, “Ok. Yeah. What’s your name?”

“Laikynn Roarke. You?”

“Oscar Naismith,” He saluted, “Locked up for extreme skills in tracking the weapons, spying for the Elven King. And some awesome sassy backchat may have added some time onto my sentence.”

“Impressive.” She noted, and he bowed slightly. Laikynn decided she liked this strange, talkative Oscar Naismith. “Blondie over there is gonna stop us off at the Throne Room before we go. I think we need to go grab something else - maybe a couple more people?”

“We have to see the Witch before leaving,” The guard called from behind them while putting Oscar in cuffs. “And by the way, Goblin Killer, my name’s Nathaniel. You might as well know, since I’ll be accompanying you.”

“Accompanying you where?” Oscar asked, his blissful smile still in place. Laikynn almost felt bad when she told him where they were going.

“What? Like, the ancient sleeping prince who’s protected by a castle of thorns? That sleeping prince?” He exclaimed, and Nathaniel nodded.

“Yup.” Laikynn said brightly, “You ready to go?”

“I go back in the prison if I refuse, don’t I?” Oscar said, slightly deflated. Nathaniel rattled the keys in answer. “Fine. Let’s go.”

As they walked back up the steps to fat man’s hell, the three of them heard one of the slaves shout, “Time to die, Naismith! Hell yes bitches, my time has come!” Laughter bubbled up from the dungeon, and Oscar turned and held up his hand in a vulgar gesture towards the bars of the door. It only made them laugh harder.

“Gods damn, they’re irritating,” Nathaniel muttered, and Oscar snorted.

“Blondie, they’re the only company I’ve had for a year now. If you think that’s bad…” Oscar rolled his eyes, and when Nathaniel opened his mouth to object, Laikynn cut him off.

“Look, you’ve got blonde hair. So we’re gonna call you blondie, because I really don’t feel like calling you Nate, and Nathaniel’s a real nightmare to say. Leave it alone.”

“And, hey, Laikynn’s hair nickname would be Sandy. I, personally, would rather be blondie.” Oscar patted Nathaniel on the shoulder, because he had the luxury of having his hands shackled in front, not behind him.

“My first week and I’m already being pushed about by the prisoners. Great.” Nathaniel muttered. Laikynn beamed.

“It’s your first week? You’re doing a great job.” Now it was Nathaniel’s time to roll his eyes.

They wiggled their way through fat man’s hell, Oscar laughing like a drunk man as he went. Laikynn then lead the way into the Leader’s throne room, straight down the scarlet carpet, stopping before the throne. Nathaniel then forced Oscar to the ground, and the Goblin Leader raised his caterpillar-like eyebrows.

“Really? Him?” He grimaced.

“He’s sassy,” Laikynn shrugged. As she spoke Jayden stepped forward, placing a large hand on her right shoulder and applying pressure. “Look, Jay, right? If you force me to the ground one more time, I will chop you into itty bitty pieces and throw them into the Hellrealms, OK?” But it wasn’t her words that made him step away, it was the opening of a side door and the entrance of a beautiful, but dark, witch.

“Cara!” The leader shouted, what could have been considered a smile blooming on his ugly, Goblin-green face. 

“Hello, hello,” The lady breezed in, her black and red cloak flowing behind her as she swept her wavy raven hair over one shoulder. She bowed before the leader, a small smile on her blood red lips, before she turned to Laikynn. Her silver - almost white - eyes scanned over Laikynn’s leanly muscular figure, stopping at her heart-shaped face. Her long-lashed, honey coloured eyes glared at the witch as she tossed her sandy fringe out of her eyes.

“So you’re the witch.” She said, “Interesting.”

“So you’re the Goblin Killer,” Cara Yancey replied, “Not quite what I would have expected.”

“I prefer amazingly talented individual, but Goblin Killer works, too.”

“And I prefer Nathaniel, but Blondie works, too,” Nathaniel added, and Cara glared at him.

“No-one asked you, mortal trash.” Cara spat, making Laikynn frown.

“Well, actually, I kinda wanted to know. You see, Blondie there is gonna be accompanying me, Oscar and whoever else I’m gonna be dumped with, so I’d really love it if you could just shut your trap and do what you’re here to do.” Laikynn said, her eyes glowing like embers.

“That’s a little more like it!” Cara exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Now I know what powers to give you!”

“Uh, what?” Oscar called from the floor, and the witch finally cast her attention to him.

“Well, she needs powers to find the blessed boy, now doesn’t she?” She laughed, “And I’m the one who’s going to give them to her.”

“Nathaniel, step away from the boy,” The Leader’s voice echoed in the hall, “Let him stand. He’s annoying, but a person, too.” Nathaniel let Oscar stand, murmuring something in his ear before moving to stand beside Jayden once again.

“What powers will you be giving me?” Laikynn asked warily. The Goblin Witch laughed.

“You seem a little dark,” Cara mused, “So smoke and shadow manipulation will be involved. You also seem like the kind to manipulate others - hush now, it’s true - so why don’t we give you the ability to steal and use the powers of others. That’ll be cool.”

She paused then, turning to the Goblin Leader, something strange glinting in her eyes that make Laikynn feel uneasy. The leader nodded, and Cara Yancey, the Goblin Witch, got to work. She placed one hand on Laikynn’s temple, and another over her heart, murmuring nonsensical things in the Witches Language. Blue light surrounded Laikynn’s head, making her eyes widen in alarm, and her mouth open to protest, but the witch silenced her with a look of concentration and warning.

It was not a moment that could be defined, when she began to feel the powers, but more like a growing feeling, deep inside of her, that grew and grew and grew until that feeling filled her whole self. When it was almost as if the powers the Goblin Witch had given her would spill out from her, Cara finally stopped, stepping away to admire her work.

Laikynn did not look any different, but Cara could see the power within. It made her eyes glow with pride at her own work, and a small, wicked smile appear on her lips. Something about the way Cara Yancey stared at her, made Laikynn shiver. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It took her a few moments to realize that everyone was waiting for her to do something - for her to show off her new powers.

“Well,” The Leader prompted, sitting forward on his throne, “Show us. Make the shadows do what you want.”

“How?” Laikynn asked, honestly not knowing what to do.

“Become them.” Cara answered simply, “Make them believe that you are one of them, and then they will do what you want.”

A look of almost comical concentration came over Laikynn’s face as she attempted to ‘become the shadows’. Nothing happened. The flickering unbras of the candles in the throne room stayed where they were, adamantly ignoring Laikynn’s attempts to control them.

“Well, the power’s definitely there…” Cara pondered, “She’s just not reaching it yet.”

“Will she ever be able to reach it?” The Leader questioned, “It could jeopardize the whole mission if she can’t use the powers.”

“No, she’ll be able to reach them eventually. She just needs a little practice, that’s all.” Cara said, sounding like she was more trying to convince herself, rather than bestow confidence in everyone else. “Try again.” She ordered.

And Laikynn did. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to become that of darkness, to be the absence of light. Then she told the shadows to come to her fingertips, to rise up and to surround the group, blocking out the guards. She heard Oscar’s surprised gasp, and Cara’s squeak of delight. The Goblin Leader even offered a small chuckle. The shadows dropped to the ground, crawling back to wherever they came from, when Laikynn opened her eyes.

“Good. Very good.” Cara nodded, before stepping aside to stand by the throne.

“Well then,” The leader clapped his hands, “It’s time for you to be off. Nathaniel and Jayden will aid you on your journey, and when you have awoken the prince, you are to return here to receive further instructions. Bye.” It was an obvious dismissal, but Laikynn has one more thing to add.

“I’m not going to do anything with Jayden.” She spat. “I’ll go with another guard or I won’t go at all.” The Leader lifted a large hand and waggled his index finger.

“Sorry, Goblin Killer,” He said, “But you go with Jayden or you lose your head. That’s the only way it’s going to be.

Images of the slaves in the dungeon flooded into Laikynn’s mind, and then images of a torture chamber deep beneath the mountain. She didn’t want to be subjected to that again. So she nodded, turning on her heel and striding out of the throne room, with the men hot on her heels.

“Your bags will be by the door. Maps inside the largest one!” The leader called after them. “Bye bye, Goblin Killer!”

The mazes of Goblin tunnels suffocated her, and Laikynn thanked the gods that part of her training meant that she could remember exits and notice important features in any place and situation. When she finally got outside, was finally able to breathe the Falland air, she doubled over outside the gates of the Goblin Caves.

“Laikynn, what’s wrong?” Oscar ran over to her, placing a hand on his shoulder. She gasped in lungfuls of air before speaking.

“Claustrophobic.” Was all she said, more of a gasp, really, before heading north, to cross the border into Fairscape, the home of the Sleeping Prince.