Chapter 62 The Place Where We Live in Peace, The End of Volume 2

 I could see the haunted expressions on the faces of my fellow goblins and hatchlings. Their eyes were wide with fear and exhaustion, their bodies trembling with cold and despair. We were a pitiful sight, a ragtag group of survivors clinging to the last shreds of hope.

We tended to the hurt hatchlings as best we could, but some were just too much hurt and lost too much blood. The forest had been merciless, and the relentless torment of our captors had taken a toll. We laid them in a pile of soft leaves we had gathered from the cave floor, hoping to provide a little bit of comfort in their final moments. We prayed they would survive, but deep down, we knew the truth.

As the hours passed, the small cave echoed with the faint whimpers and labored breathing of the dying hatchlings. Their once vibrant green bodies, now bruised and broken, grew cold and gray. One by one, their tiny chests stopped rising, their eyes glazing over as life slipped away. We could do nothing but watch, our hearts breaking with each loss.

When the last breath left the most injured hatchling, a heavy silence settled over us. We gathered the dead, their bodies limp and lifeless, and carried them outside. The big tree just outside our small cave stood as a silent witness to our sorrow. Its ancient roots spread out like arms, offering a resting place for the fallen.

With trembling hands, we dug shallow graves, the earth cold and unyielding. Each scoop of dirt felt like a betrayal, a reminder of how cruel the world had been to us. We placed the tiny bodies in the ground, covering them gently with the earth. Tears streamed down our faces, mixing with the dirt as we worked.

"We're so sorry, little ones. Please, forgive us. We tried... we really tried." I whispered, my voice breaking.

Grill let out a choked sob.

"Kaka... he would have known what to do. I'm sorry for all that happened. If only I was stronger... smarter..."

Grub, clutching a small stone, placed it atop one of the graves.

"For you, little ones," he said softly, his voice trembling.

"So you know we remember."

As we returned to the cave, the silence was deafening. We settled down, our hearts heavy with the weight of our grief. The remaining hatchlings clung to us, seeking comfort in their confusion and fear. We had to be strong for them, to show them that even in the face of such sorrow, there was still hope.

The forest was still dangerous, and the world was still cruel, but we had each other. And as long as we were together, there was hope. We would find a way to survive, to honor Kaka's memory, and maybe, just maybe, to find a place where we could live in peace.

Before sleep, Grub turned to me and spoke in a tone that was both weary and stern.

"Hermit, a word of advice. Do not get attached to anyone in this cruel realm we live in," he said, his voice a mere whisper in the dim light of the cave.

"You will be hurt. It is better to not get friendly with anyone, better to keep it to yourself. That way, you won't get hurt."

I stared at him, unable to comprehend why he was saying such cold things, especially considering our recent loss. But somewhere deep down, a part of me felt the harsh truth in his words. With a silent nod, I curled up on the cold stone ground and wrapped myself in my ears, seeking whatever comfort I could find in their familiar warmth.

The night dragged on, heavy with sorrow and the weight of our collective grief. Just as I was about to drift into a fitful sleep, a muffled sound roused me. My heart pounded in my chest as fear gripped me, and I slowly peeked my head outside through the narrow mouth of our cave.

In the pale moonlight, I saw Grub by a tree where we had buried our lost ones. He was sobbing, crying his heart out in a raw display of anguish. The sight of him made my own heart ache even more. Grub had unburied the hatchling graves and was holding their mangled corpses tight in his embrace. Tears streamed down his face in rivers, mixing with the dirt and snot that dripped from his nose onto his arms and the ground below.

Grub's cries were heart-wrenching, a deep, guttural sound that spoke of pain and loss too profound for words. He bit into a nearby branch, trying to muffle his cries so that we wouldn't hear him. But I heard him. I saw him. And in that moment, I realized that Grub was not mean or cold-hearted. He was the most kind-hearted and caring of us all, hiding his pain behind a mask of sternness to protect us, to shield us from the same agony he felt.

His sobs echoed in the stillness of the night, a reminder of the love and loss we all shared. As I watched him kneel and cry, I felt a deep sense of empathy and respect for Grub. He bore the weight of our suffering on his shoulders, carrying it silently so that we might find some semblance of peace.

At that moment, I understood the depth of his words. Grub's advice to not get attached was not born out of coldness but out of a desperate need to protect us from the heartache that came with loss. Yet, it was also clear that even Grub, with all his strength and resilience, could not escape the pain of losing those he cared for.

As Grub's sobs slowly subsided, he gently laid the hatchling corpses back in their makeshift graves, covering them with earth once more. His movements were tender, almost reverent as if he were tucking them in for the last time. He whispered something, a quiet farewell, before turning away and making his way back to the cave.

I quickly retreated inside, curling up on the ground once more. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions - grief, understanding, and a newfound respect for Grub. 

The morning came too quickly, and we slowly got up, our bodies aching from the trials of the previous day.

 The memory of Kaka’s suggestion to reach the open plains and leave the forest echoed in my mind. It was a daunting task, but it was our only chance at a better life. We couldn’t stay here, surrounded by memories of pain, monsters, and loss. We needed to move forward, to find a place where we could heal and rebuild.

With a heavy heart, I stepped forward, wobbling a bit on my scrawny legs, feeling the weight of every single terrified eye on me. The whole gang of gobbies - shivering, wide-eyed, and dumber than rocks, just like me - looked up with that blank, hopeful look that said they expected me to know what I was talking about. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum made out of soggy mushrooms, and my hands shook, but I forced myself to stand tall - or as tall as a bony goblin can stand, anyway.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound like Kaka used to when he gave us one of his wise speeches. Except Kaka was actually smart, and, well, I’m me. But someone had to say something, right? We couldn’t just stand around forever like confused ants looking for crumbs.

“Ahem! Uh, right. So, listen up, gobbies!” I began, my voice cracking like a rusty door hinge.

 “We... we gotta get outta here. Like... like real soon. This place, it’s... uh... bad. Real bad.” I waved my hands around as if that would somehow make me sound more convincing.

 “Monsters everywhere, and... and pain! You remember the pain, right? ‘Course you do, it’s all we ever feel in this place! And that’s... that’s bad! So, uh... we gotta leave. Yes, we do!”

I scratched the side of my head, trying to remember what Kaka used to say when he wanted to sound smart. Something about hope or the future or whatever. I tried to pull my thoughts together, but they were all jumbled, bouncing around in my skull like pebbles. Still, I had to keep going. They were counting on me to be... brave, or something.

“And... and you know what Kaka said! Yeah! Kaka was smart. Smarter than me, smarter than all of us put together, right?” I nodded, trying to hype myself up.

 “He said... he said we should go to the open plains, right? And that’s... that’s what we’re gonna do! Yeah! ‘Cause the plains are... uh... they’re better than this! They gotta be. No more trees full of monsters tryin’ to eat our faces off. No more goblin masters beating us with sticks or torches... or, uh, shoving things where they don’t belong.”

I shuddered at the memory but quickly tried to recover, puffing out my chest like I was some kind of big, brave hero instead of a scrawny goblin slave.

 “So! The plains! It’s... uh... it’s wide and open, right? Lots of space for us to... to live! No more cages, no more whips, no more hiding in the dirt. We can... we can build stuff, like... like huts or something. Yeah! Huts! With roofs! And maybe some walls, if we figure out how to do that. But we’ll learn, right? ‘Cause we’re goblins! And... and goblins learn stuff! Sometimes... eventually.”

I paused, feeling like I was starting to lose them. Their eyes were glazing over, and one of the hatchlings had already started chewing on a stick he found on the ground. Panic gripped me for a second, but I took a deep breath and pushed on.

“For Kaka!” I blurted out, and that seemed to snap a few of them back to attention. 

“Yeah! We’re doin’ this for Kaka! He... he wanted us to be free, right? To... to be more than just scared little goblins huddling in the dirt! So, we owe it to him. We gotta do this, for him. And... and for all the gobbies we lost along the way. All the ones who didn’t make it. All the gobbies who... who got eaten, or stomped, or burned, or... or worse. They didn’t make it, but we did! We’re still here! We’re still kickin’, and that means somethin’, right? Right! It means... uh... it means we gotta keep goin’. We can’t give up now. We made it this far, didn’t we?”

I puffed out my chest again, trying to look brave even though my knees were shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

“So we’re gonna leave this place. We’re gonna find the plains, and we’re gonna start over. We’re gonna... we’re gonna live, really live! Not just survive like scared rats in a hole. We’ll be free, and... and strong! We’ll be together, and that’ll make us... uh... safe! Kinda. Sorta. In a goblin-y way.”

I looked around at the group, hoping they were buying it. 

“And we’ll be smart! Smarter than we are now, anyway. We’ll learn how to build stuff, and maybe even grow food! Yeah! Imagine that! We won’t have to eat dirt or feces or... or grime anymore! We’ll have real food! And water that doesn’t taste like feet!”

I was getting carried away now, my voice rising with excitement.

 “We’ll be... we’ll be free goblins! No more masters! No more beatings! Just us! For Kaka! For all the gobbies who didn’t make it! We’re gonna do this! Uh... yeah!” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. 

“So, like I was sayin’... let’s go.”

The others nodded, their eyes filled with grit and sorrow. The loss of Kaka and the hatchlings weighed heavily on us all, a wound that time might never fully heal. But it was this shared grief that fueled our resolve. It was a small spark of hope in the darkness, but it was enough to keep us going.

Driven by the memory of those who had fallen and the promise of a better future, we ventured off, our steps slow and careful. The forest, once a place of horror and suffering, began to thin out as we walked, the oppressive canopy of trees giving way to glimpses of sunlight and patches of open sky. The journey was fraught with hardship. Our bellies growled with hunger, and our bodies were weakened from days of malnourishment and abuse. Every step was a struggle, every breath a reminder of our fragility.

Grub and Grill took turns leading the way, their familiarity with the terrain guiding us through the thick underbrush and over treacherous ground. Pebble and Grit supported the younger hatchlings, Wiggly and Nibbles, who stumbled often, their tiny legs barely able to keep up. Snuggle, Ears, and Squirt stayed close to each other, offering quiet words of encouragement and comfort.

As the day wore on, the landscape began to change. The dense forest gradually gave way to more open spaces, and the air grew fresher, and less oppressive. Finally, we reached the edge of the forest. We stood on a small cliff, and before us stretched the most beautiful sight we had ever seen: the green, empty plains that extended as far as the eye could see.

For a moment, we were all silent, our breath taken away by the sheer beauty of it all. The plains were a vast, open expanse of rolling grasslands, dotted here and there with patches of wildflowers and gentle hills. The sky above was a brilliant blue, unmarred by the dark shadows of the forest canopy. It felt like a different world entirely, a place untouched by the horrors we had endured.

Our hearts, though broken with sorrow from our loss, swelled with a newfound sense of hope. Here, in this place, we could start over. We could build a new life, free from the torment and suffering of the breeding farm. We could honor Kaka’s memory by surviving, thriving, and living the life he had dreamed of for us.

Tears streamed down my face as I turned to the others.

 "We made it," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion.

 "We’re free."

Grub placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

 "Yes... yes, we did, Hermit. We made it. We will be happy here. For Kaka. For all who we lost."

We stood there for a while, taking in the sight and letting the reality of our freedom sink in. It was a bittersweet moment, filled with both the sorrow of our past and the promise of a better future. We would survive. We would rebuild. And we would honor Kaka's sacrifice by living the life he had wanted for us, a life of freedom and hope. 

Or at least we thought so.

The end of volume 2. Volume 3 coming soon.