Chapter 37: The Peace Before the Fire

I had seen it firsthand, seen how weakness was preyed upon and how those with power dictated the fate of everyone beneath them, and because of that, I’d come to understand something most people refused to accept.

Peace and violence were never true opposites.

They were simply two sides of the same coin.

Without war, people would never long for peace, and without peace, there would be nothing worth fighting to protect. One gave the other meaning.

They could never truly exist on their own.

"I refuse to believe that," Talia said firmly.

I let out a slow breath, irritation creeping into my voice as I looked her straight in the eyes.

"Then you’re naive. It’s as simple as that."

She flinched for the briefest moment, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it came. Then she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, as though gathering every ounce of resolve she had before facing me again.

"You think I’m naive?"

There was a quiet anger in those words, the kind that had been building for a while.

She wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not so directly, but I wasn’t about to back down.

"Yes." I held her gaze without flinching. "Your idea of peace is hiding, avoiding, and refusing to retaliate. That doesn’t prevent conflict; it invites it. It’s the same as walking into a den of wolves and hoping they won’t bite."

Talia opened her mouth, the rebuttal already on the tip of her tongue, but before a single word could leave her lips, she hesitated.

A flicker of doubt crossed her face before she let out a slow breath.

"Aren’t you afraid of dying?"

"I am. But... better dead than living in a self-confined cage."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them, raw and unfiltered, carrying far more weight than I’d intended.

As soon as I said them, memories of the life I’d left behind surfaced uninvited.

I could almost see the dim glow of my computer screen lighting up the darkness of my room, feel the stale air that never seemed to change, and relive the endless cycle of waking up, merely existing, then shutting myself away all over again.

That had been my life for years.

I had spent so long avoiding people and avoiding life itself that isolation had become my normal.

I used to tell myself it was because the world had beaten me down one too many times, but deep down I knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

No. The truth was that I had let it crush me.

I let them win. The bullies, the world, and worst of all, my own damn fear.

Instead of fighting back, I buried myself in games, hiding inside virtual worlds where none of it seemed to matter, until one day my body finally gave out. And then I died.

I wasted my life alone in a dark room, unnoticed and forgotten, earning what had to be the most pathetic ending imaginable. Never again.

Talia’s voice softened, carrying a hesitation that hadn’t been there before.

Her hands trembled ever so slightly, betraying the weight behind her next words.

"I’d do anything to protect my people."

"Then do it without me."

Her gaze met mine and held, sharp enough to pierce through every excuse I could make.

"And if you are the Chosen One?"

I scoffed. "I don’t care."

The words left my mouth easily enough, but something twisted inside me the moment I said them.

Because deep down, beneath all the anger and refusal, there was a small part of me that wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

Talia stood there in silence for a long moment before her shoulders slowly slumped.

Her expression became impossible to read, and when she finally spoke again, it was barely more than a whisper.

"That’s unfortunate."

She turned away and lifted a hand, pointing toward a nearby hut.

"You’ll sleep there tonight." She paused for a moment before adding more firmly, "Tomorrow, you can leave."

I gave a small nod, accepting her words without argument, then turned and made my way toward the hut, feeling her gaze linger on my back the entire walk.

The inside was simple but comfortable, warm and quiet, with a large woven mat covering most of the floor.

It wasn’t exactly luxurious, but considering I was a goblin, even the cold ground would’ve been enough.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I lowered myself onto the mat.

As soon as I did, a small blur of fur leapt onto my chest. Drako.

He immediately nuzzled into my neck, his tiny body radiating warmth as his slow, steady breathing brushed against my skin.

I exhaled and stared up at the dark ceiling, my thoughts refusing to settle as they swirled endlessly through my mind like a storm.

But after a while, Drako shifted again, curling up even closer until his warmth seeped through my skin and into my bones.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel alone.

A slow breath escaped my lips as the tension gradually drained from my body, and before I knew it, my eyelids grew heavy and drifted shut.

Then...

The world shook.

BOOM.

My eyes flew open as the force rattled the hut hard enough to send dust cascading from the ceiling.

Before I could make sense of what had happened, a deep, bone-chilling war horn tore through the night, its haunting call echoing across the village and sending a jolt straight down my spine.

Instinct took over before conscious thought ever had the chance.

I lurched to my feet, every muscle tightening as my hand found the haft of my axe without hesitation.

Drako let out a startled squeak and scrambled onto my shoulder, his tiny claws digging into me as I burst through the doorway.

The moment I stepped outside, chaos slammed into me. Screams filled the air.

Flames were already spreading from hut to hut, turning the darkness into a sea of flickering orange, while terrified goblins ran in every direction.

My stomach sank.

The village was under attack.

And the ones attacking us were...

"Humans?!"