When they reached the village, their tribesmen were amazed by their skin.
It was brighter than before.
In the eyes of the tribe, they looked more beautiful.
The commotion brought everyone into the village square.
The chief stepped out of his hut to see what had caused the disturbance, only to find that his tribe suddenly had more beautiful goblins.
But when he looked closely, he recognized them.
They weren’t new goblins, but the same ones he had known for a long time.
Then why did they all look different?
Not only the females, but the males as well.
As the chief walked toward them, the crowd parted to make way for him.
He moved at a slow, steady pace.
When he stopped in front of them, he asked,
“Why do you all look so different?”
Mitcha stepped forward, addressing not only him but the rest of the tribe.
“We bathe in stream,” she said before recounting everything that had happened—from Alruk following them, to him running into the stream because he felt uncomfortable with the dirt on his body.
As she spoke, some of the others began touching and examining their own skin.
Even the old female hobgoblin looked at them expectantly as they described how relaxing the bath had been.
But what they did not notice was the chief’s expression growing colder the more they talked.
When they finished, his cold voice cut through the silence.
“So, let me get this straight,” he said as he stepped closer.
“You left the village with a child who could not protect himself and even allowed him to run into the stream.”
He stopped in front of Mitcha.
“What you did was very foolish,” he said, looking down at them.
The difference in height made him resemble an adult scolding children.
“Chief, I sorry, Alruk neede—”
Slap.
A hand struck the left side of her face.
The entire village fell silent.
The chief had slapped Mitcha before she could finish speaking.
“The reason is not important,” he said, looking down at her.
The others watched with fear in their eyes.
Some even looked away, unwilling to witness the scene.
Alruk stood frozen in shock.
He had never expected that accompanying them would bring this kind of punishment upon them.
“As punishment, the women who were involved will sleep outside the huts for one week,” the chief announced.
“And the males will not be allowed to breed during this breeding season.”
Gasps escaped from the gathered goblins.
Whispers spread throughout the village.
When the murmuring finally died down, the chief turned his gaze toward Alruk.
“As for you, there will be no more running around,” he said, staring at him with cold eyes.
“Your blood is stronger than the rest of ours, so you must grow up safely within the village.
You are no longer allowed to leave it.”
He then raised his voice for everyone to hear.
“The same goes for every infant.
Until the third breeding season, training will be done within the village, and none are allowed to leave.”
The crowd nodded in understanding.
It was something they had already practiced, but it had never been enforced as an actual rule.
The chief slowly returned to his hut, and everyone gradually resumed their daily activities.
Most of them sympathized with those who had gone with Alruk.
Only moments ago, there had been smiles and laughter.
Now, they all hung their heads.
Alruk looked up at them with pity.
The punishments might seem light, but to them, they were like heavy chains placed around their necks.
For the females, sleeping outside the hut meant being separated from the other women and enduring colder nights.
For the males, being barred from breeding meant they could not pass on their bloodline.
Some might die before the next breeding season, leaving no descendants behind.
They would also be mocked relentlessly by their peers.
When the crowd had dispersed and the group that had gone with him was about to leave, Alruk stepped forward and said in an apologetic voice,
“Sorry for cause trouble.”
He was genuinely sorry.
Mitcha, always the caring one, stepped in front of him and lowered herself until her yellow eyes met his.
Her eyes were moist, but she fought back the tears.
Her cheek still stung from the slap, yet she didn’t want the little one to blame himself.
“You not do wrong,” she said, maintaining eye contact.
“You need something, you come to older goblin.”
She closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath.
“We wrong for not tell you wait.”
Raka nodded in agreement.
The rest followed.
Even the males, though reluctant, nodded as well.
“This lesson.
No more outside village until third breed, okay?”
Alruk nodded.
He reached out and gently wiped away a tear from Mitcha’s cheek.
After that quiet moment, everyone went their separate ways.
“I’ll have to be more careful from now on,” Alruk thought as he returned to his tree, his gaze sharpening.
Before long, several young ones gathered around him—some curious, others simply wanting to play near the tree.
What I can do now is follow my training plan.
He continued thinking.
I won’t be able to change their society yet.
First, I need to become strong.
In every society, power is necessary for change.
It can be intellectual power, political power, economic power…
Or physical strength.
And in the society he lives in now, strength is power.
Alruk continued refining his training as time passed.
And just like that, a year slipped by.
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