Glint's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Glint stood at the edge of the great tortoise's shadow and checked his gear one last time. He wanted one thing: to be the first goblin to pass the Adventurer's Academy and delve the dungeons of Detrus. No goblin had ever done it. This morning he meant to start the walk that would get him there. Mother Kajra came down the ramp, leaning on her glowing staff. She raised him here among the druids, and now she pressed a small jar into his green hands. Runes crawled across its metal face. A soft light pulsed inside. "Goodberries, laddie," she said. "Press the heart and it'll feed ye one. Dinnae eat them all the first night." Her monocle whirred as she looked him over. Then she tucked a folded letter into his pack. "And this. A recommendation. I foiled the Necroswarm once, so the school kens my name. Use it well." Glint's throat went tight. "I'll make you proud, Mum." He hugged her hard. The staff clicked against his goggles. A low hum rolled up behind them. Bramble Ironroot steered his hovering chair across the moss, the little tree on his hat swaying. The old dwarf grinned and dropped something heavy in Glint's arms. It was a crossbow built to strap onto a forearm. "Mounts here," Bramble said, tapping Glint's wrist. "Loads itself twice before ye reload. The swamp doesnae care how clever ye are, boy. It cares how fast ye shoot." He clapped Glint's shoulder with a gloved hand. Glint buckled the crossbow on and flexed his arm. It locked tight. He hugged Bramble, then Kajra again, and made himself step away before his courage ran out. "The Firefinger mountains," he said, pointing past the bog. Far off, jagged peaks blasted columns of fire and blue light into the gray sky. "Scraptown sits under them. I walk till I reach it." Kajra's monocle dimmed. "Keep to the high ground, Glint. And dinnae stop for anything that follows ye." He waved until the dome shrank behind the trees. Then he turned and walked into the swamp alone. The water sucked at his boots. Vines hung like wet rope. He hummed to fill the quiet and checked his new crossbow every few steps, proud of its weight. By midday the Grove was gone from sight. He was really doing it now. Something moved behind him. Glint froze. A branch snapped. Then nothing. He told himself it was a frog and kept going, faster. The sound came again, matched to his own steps. He stopped. The thing stopped. He spun around and aimed the crossbow into the murk. Two green eyes glowed low between the trees, steady and patient. They did not blink. They did not come closer. They only watched. Glint swallowed. His first day from home, and he was not alone. He backed toward the firelit peaks, finger on the trigger, eyes locked on the thing that had chosen to follow him.