Chapter 22: The Prophecy

And despite everything that had happened, despite being pushed to the brink of extinction, they still clung to this ridiculous idea of peace.

"That’s stupid," I muttered.

Talia’s head snapped toward me, her amber eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

I met her gaze without flinching. "You were strong. You had magic. You had power. And you just let the humans walk all over you?"

Her jaw tightened, but instead of firing back, she let out a slow, measured breath, as though she’d heard those exact words more times than she cared to remember.

"We didn’t just roll over," she said evenly. "We fought back. We tried to reclaim what was ours."

I scoffed. "And?"

"And every time we struck, the humans came back stronger."

She replied and then fell silent, her steps slowing until she stopped beneath the dense canopy.

Above us, thick branches swayed gently, their leaves whispering as the wind slipped through the forest.

"It was almost like our resistance fueled them," she said at last, her voice noticeably quieter. "Every battle we won, they returned with better weapons, new tactics, and stronger warriors. We were fighting a war we didn’t even realize we’d already lost."

I frowned, unable to hide my disbelief:

"So you just gave up?"

Talia didn’t answer immediately.

I stepped closer, never taking my eyes off hers.

The movement instantly put the surrounding goblins on edge, several of them tightening their grips on their weapons, but Talia raised a hand before anyone could react, silently ordering them to stand down.

I continued, my voice hardening as I stepped closer:

"Are you even fighting now?"

She didn’t answer.

I let out a sharp breath, frustration creeping into my voice. "The magic was yours. You wielded it. They stole it. And you’re just... letting them keep it?"

Her expression darkened, but when she finally spoke, her voice remained calm:

"We sought peace, not bloodshed."

I couldn’t help but scoff:

"And look where that got you."

Beside me, Talia’s jaw tightened, her fists curling at her sides as she glared in my direction:

"Not every battle is fought with violence, Sylas."

I met her gaze without flinching, my eyes narrowing.

"No," I said after a brief pause, "but some battles have to be."

"Humans aren’t going to wake up one day, feel bad, and give you your power back." I took another step, my voice low and sharp, refusing to let the point slip past her. "If you want it, you have to take it."

Talia’s lips pressed into a thin line.

She didn’t argue or lash out, because deep down she knew there was truth in what I was saying.

Even so, years of tradition and custom still held her back, and after a long, weary sigh, she quietly said:

"That is not our way."

I shook my head. Na?ve. That’s what she was. That’s what all of them were.

I had been human once, and I knew exactly how they thought.

I knew their greed, their endless hunger for power and control.

The idea that they’d one day decide to let goblins live alongside them in peace wasn’t just foolish. It was laughable.

Also, why were these goblins so different?

From everything I knew, goblins were supposed to be violent, greedy, and stupid.

These guys were the complete opposite.

On one hand, that was a good thing.

If they had been the mindless brutes I expected, they probably would’ve killed me.

On the other hand, their intelligence came with its own problem. They weren’t the kind of people I could easily manipulate or sway toward my own goals.

Talia broke the silence.

"You know," she said slowly, her gaze drifting toward the dark canopy overhead, "there’s an old rumor that’s been passed down among goblins for generations. A prophecy."

I let out a groan.

"Oh, great. A prophecy to save us all."

Talia ignored my sarcasm, her expression remaining solemn as her voice softened into something almost reverent.

"The prophecy speaks of a chosen one. A goblin who will restore our lost power and lead us down the right path."

"Let me guess," I muttered. "The ’right path’ in your head means peace."

She nodded as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course."

I rolled my eyes. "Then the prophecy’s garbage."

Talia shot me a sharp look. "You’re only speaking out of naivety."

Naive? Me?

I almost laughed. If anyone here was na?ve, it was the goblins.

They were still clinging to the idea of peace after humans had already shown, time and time again, that they would never allow it to exist.

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could say a word, the group came to such an abrupt halt that the conversation died on the spot.

I looked around, wondering what was going on.

All I could see were endless trees stretching in every direction, their thick canopies blotting out much of the sky, while dense undergrowth swallowed everything beyond a few meters. There wasn’t a village, a fortress, or even the hint of a trail, just trees stretching endlessly in every direction.

"We have arrived."

Talia stepped forward, her voice calm yet carrying an unmistakable certainty.

I frowned, turning in a slow circle as I searched for whatever she was talking about.

"Arrived where?"

Nothing about this place looked different from the rest of the forest we’d been walking through.

If this was some kind of joke, or worse, a carefully planned excuse to lead me somewhere isolated and kill me, then it wasn’t funny.

Talia ignored the question. Instead, she slowly raised a hand, her fingers curling around something that wasn’t there, as though she were reaching for an invisible object suspended in the air.

"Only two kinds of goblins can use magic now," she said, her voice dropping to a quiet, almost reverent whisper.

I watched as the pendant hanging from her tribal chain began to glow with a soft, eerie blue light.

The same strange radiance spread to her fingertips, and a moment later the air in front of us rippled like disturbed water, sending a chill crawling down my spine.

"A shaman..." she murmured, her eyes never leaving the shifting space before us. "Or a goblin with a magical artifact."

My eyes widened with amusement, like a kid watching fireworks for the first time.

So Talia was the latter, a goblin wielding a magical artifact.

Cool.

But that wasn’t what left me speechless.

The pacing is still deliberate, but the action now flows naturally instead of feeling broken into isolated beats.

It was a beautiful sight.

Before my eyes, the very air rippled and peeled away like a veil being lifted, revealing that the dense forest I had been so certain was nothing more than an endless stretch of trees and undergrowth had been hiding something all along.

In the space of a heartbeat, the illusion dissolved, and in its place stood a massive stone archway, ancient and weathered, with faintly glowing runes carved across its surface.

Beyond it stretched a hidden passage, a gateway leading straight into the goblins’ settlement.

Talia didn’t hesitate for even a moment.

She stepped forward and passed through the entrance as though it had always been there, the shimmering barrier folding around her before sealing itself again like water closing over a stone.

One after another, the rest of the goblins followed behind her without so much as slowing their pace.

None of them stopped to admire the sight.

To them, this hidden entrance was simply home.

But to me, it was anything but ordinary.

She had used magic. Real, honest-to-God magic.

I wasn’t sure why the sight affected me so deeply, but seeing it with my own eyes, not in a book, not in a movie, not as some fantasy on a screen, sent a thrill racing through my body.

Something buried deep inside me awakened, my fingers twitching as my breathing grew heavier and my muscles tightened with an unfamiliar hunger.

I wanted to reach out and touch that power, to understand it, to wield it as though it had always belonged to me.

The desire burned deep within my chest, impossible to ignore.

And if the goblins weren’t going to reclaim the power they had lost... then maybe I would.