Chapter Eight: Reconciliation

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Chapter Eight:

Reconciliation

            The wind blowing through the trees was the only sound while I digested what Soren told me. Every cell in my body ached to reject it and prove it wasn't true but deep down in my bones, I knew he wasn't lying. The revelation had me shivering.

            My mind whirled with the memories of the past; bits of stories that at first had no meaning now held all the answers in the world. They way the other villagers looked at me, the scornful whispers as I streaked by them with a bow in my arms, reveling in the feeling of solitude in the freezing forest, the ambitious drive that pushed me to be faster, stronger, smarter, better than all the others, the way I stood strong in the first year of the Permafrost while everyone collapsed around me. It all made sense except for one thing that sunk in my stomach like a large stone.

            "You didn't..." I could scarcely get the words out. "Have anything to do with the raid on my village, did you?" I fought the dread threatening to swallow me as I waited for his answer.

            Soren's eyes shone brightly with concern; it was like looking at a whole different person.

            "No," he said and my heart sunk in relief. "During the time of Lydian's raid, I was busy finalizing my lordship."

            I shuddered. It was no secret that younger goblins usurped and killed their sires when they became strong enough to rule in their place. If there were goblins loyal to their old lord they were dealt with just like the overseer was all those years ago. For a young goblin, the path to power was always stained with blood.

            "When I came to the village it was already in ruins," he continued on. "You can imagine my surprise when Lydian threw you in front of my feet."
Lydian. Even his name turned my veins to ice. That man—no, that thing­—was more evil than any creature I would ever encounter. Ever. I looked away as Soren searched my face. I didn't want him to see the fear there.

            "I don't know all of what he did to you, Janneke," he said softly. "But I know some of it and I know I will never let him touch you again."
             I took a deep breath, pulling my arms around me. The temperature had dropped to freezing by now, the sun all the way past the horizon. In the dark, moonless sky, the trees stretched up like fingers trying to steal the stars. It was so quiet, so still, nothing but the sound of the breath in our lungs.

            "So why was I a slave?" I asked, the question burning inside of me.

            Soren shook his head. "That wasn't part of the original plan. But the original plan was foiled when Lydian captured you. When he gave you to me, it was as a slave. I couldn't change that without a proper loophole. I tried to make it easier...make it so you would be spared from the labor and be able to stay by my side. So that one day, I could claim you had forsaken your human roots and thus were a slave no longer."

            The wind howled around us, I swore that the roots we sat on were coming to life. The Permafrost was full of the sounds of night; hooting owls, the calls of wolves, and the far-off cries of fighting goblins. My mind wandered back to the camp, where Rekke and Elvira were. I wouldn't put it past Elvira to be plotting another way to kill me; after I injured her snow cat she looked mad enough to disembowel me right there and then.

            I looked down at my hands. The tawny colored palms were full of callouses and old scars. Hard muscle shaped my arms and shoulders; rippling down my sides. Was this the body of a human or a goblin? Did these hands, which could bear the razor sharp bowstring of a Permafrost bow without bleeding, belong among other humans who would never understand then?

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