Side Story

I know, I promised that we were done with the history behind my experiences, but while I was organizing all my notes, I found myself researching further into the history of Jinge's mother. And normally I hate doing research. Ever since I heard of her, I've had this horrified fascination with her story. I found it, too. She was sick before she died, and wrote while bedridden. I hope that this out-of-context placement error can be fixed later. Maybe a 2nd edition of this guidebook?

           Well, I am even more amazed now that I've read about her story. I thought some of you would like to read it as well, just in case you are ever kidnapped by a goblin and are alive long enough to try and escape. (Incidentally, I hope none of you will ever have to worry about that!) This will pick up where we left off in her story, after her fight with the goblin.

My knife fell to the ground with clatter. The goblin’s dark, massive hand covered my fist entirely, and I could feel the bones in my wrist about to snap. I shut my eyes, refusing to cry.

“Just kill me and eat me now.” I requested. “Don’t play with your food.”

His other, awful hand touched my hair. “You are far too interesting to eat.” he said.

I shuddered. The goblin picked me up and hauled me away over his shoulder. I kicked and struggled, but my efforts were as useless as a small child’s. He ran a long way, and I couldn’t tell where. The wind shrieked in my ears as if it was furious at me for being so weak. Finally, the goblin threw me down in a pitch dark place and told me to sleep. The sun was rising somewhere. I was ready to defend myself, but he left me alone for the time being. My life as a captive began.

We lived in a cave near the seashore. He would sleep during the day, and hunt at night. I would try every waking hour to escape, but far too often the monster would suddenly bind my feet together with a flick of his finger, making me fall on the sandy rocks, or change the way out of the cave into a maze and let me wander until I gave up. I’d try to kill him too. Every day he’d let me try, and laugh when I failed. After a fortnight, he started giving me advice on how to better my attempts. Once he even offered to teach me his magic, the kind he used to disguise himself in the shadows. I spat at him, and he left it at that.

I can’t say that he didn’t take care of me. Instead of hunting my kind, he hunted large fish, and dragged them back to the cave. I always had a dry blanket and plenty of fish to eat. How I hated the smell of fish! And the smell of the low tide! But I couldn’t escape at any other time. When the tide was in, the way out of the cave was flooded. The goblin had made a barrier that would keep the water out, but if I crossed it, I would be crushed between it and the water.

That gave me two times every twenty-four hours to escape. I would usually try for the low tide at moonrise, since the goblin would be out hunting. But the cave was always a maze, and I had no light unless I took a piece of firewood with me, and the goblin never left me more than a few sticks. I would curse my parents for being so old fashioned and not teaching me any of the “fancy” spells, such as creating a floating lantern, or how to make a night-light.

Four steps left, two right, turn left, not right! Now back, around the curve, watch out for the jutt-- ow! I’d remembered the rock jutting out of the wall at eye level, but not the rock at shin level. I’d wander the stupid cave for hours, until I felt water sloshing around my feet. Unless I was halfway out, and could get out of the caves before the tide started coming back in, I would have to turn back, or else I would drown.

I ran into the goblin on his way back once. He had a dead shark over his shoulder. “Well, this won’t do.” he laughed. “You almost made it too far this time.”

My heart sank as the path behind him was lost, and jagged rocks around us melted and changed. There was light coming from behind me. It was the end of the cave, where the fire was still burning.

“This one should be tasty.” the goblin said, indicating the shark. “I brought some special spices from home.” I glared at him, and he smiled back.

Still, I persisted. I made it further each time. I even tried following him out from a distance, but he ran so much faster than I that I lost track of him. I tried mapping out the mazes with charcoal from the firewood, erasing them, and drawing them again.

I realized after six months of my captivity, that there were only a few mazes that he used. He had only designed four labyrinths, and had merely cycled through them until now. Still, he could design a new one any day now, and I had to leave right then, while I had the chance. The goblin had left some time ago. I crossed the barrier.

I felt my way around in the dark. It was maze #3, the one with lots of dead ends. I had to watch my step, too, there were a lot of jagged rocks underfoot. Turn left here, left again, and then right. I could solve this. It couldn’t be longer than a mile, after all! Water suddenly snaked along my ankles. It was too early for the tide to be coming in... had I been wandering in there that long?

I decided against turning back. I was almost there, I had to be. Maze #3 only had two possible ways out now. One straight ahead, and one to my left. My sense of smell was of little help. Each way smelled equally dank and fishy. I tried sense perhaps a slight breeze, but there was no difference between either path. I took a deep breath. To the left.

The water was deeper here. That was a good sign, right? As long as I kept moving... It was up to my thighs now, which made walking difficult. The water rose to my waist. A right turn took me to where I thought the ocean would be. I guess I was right, for a strong current pushed me back against the rocky wall.

My hands were stinging, and I tried to hold on to anything I could find as a stronger and higher current came at me as well. I swam forward with all my might, and caught a glimpse of the sky -- the sky above the open ocean...

I couldn’t fight against the current. But I found that crossing it was easier. I swam sideways to the next corner (I crossed the passage in zigzag pattern), and held on there. I pushed off of each wall and swam right after the peak of each wave. The last one was the hardest, but I’ve never been more determined in my life. I reached the outside wall and held on while the water pushed me back, I got my shoulders past it, and pulled myself over -- the tide swept me away from the cave. At last! It carried me to the shore. I stood up dizzily.

The moon was shining over the sea. The wind was so free and beautiful against my face. The sand was smooth and damp under my feet. For the first time in six months, I cried.

My limbs were shaky and unfit to run far, but I ran as long as I could, along the shore. I looked for light in the sky, for the sign of a lighthouse, or a town, but could see nothing. I went further inland. It was all rock and forest. If I could keep running until the sun rose, he would have to go back to the cave and wait until nightfall. I could escape!

I heard nothing following me. I traveled in a daze. The sun was so bright. Too bright. I found a fishing village, one I’d been to before, briefly. I got strange looks, and no one talked to me. They sold fish. I didn’t care what they thought. I walked on. My house wouldn’t be far.

My parents were both medicine dealers, but since I had no head for distilling medicine and salesmanship, they taught me wifely spells. I wasn’t very good at those either, and they hoped I’d get married to someone who didn’t mind that I was stupid. I was actually on my way back from a trip to meet a prospective husband when the other people in the caravan’s camp were suddenly panicking and running in every direction. A man in front of me was on the ground, bleeding with a knife wound in his back. I had done what I was taught: heal first and ask questions later.

As soon as the wound had closed up, I saw three giant shadows looming over me with faintly shining grins. They laughed. The shadows laughed, and I ran. I was cornered. There was no where to go. The closest one ran at me in the night, a moonbeam glinting off of his knife.

You know how that ended.

My home was not so far from the seashore. I reached it by that nightfall, and knocked on my parent’s door, since I knew it would be locked by now. I could see a crack of light on the threshold. The door opened. It was my father, squinting at me in the dim light.

“What do you want?” he asked. “We’re closed.”

“Father, it’s me!” I said, crazy with joy.

He only stared at me in horror. My mother came to the doorway, holding a candle. She screamed in fright at the sight of me. “What evil spirit is this? Begone! Don’t haunt us here! Our daughter died! Let her rest in peace!” She threw some liquid at me. It would have been acid to an evil spirit or walking corpse. As it was, it still stung.  She soaked the threshold with it, and my father shut the door and bolted it. I pounded on the door, hoping they would open it again. I yelled, begged, and pleaded. They did not open the door again.

The goblin found me around midnight. I was sobbing in the shadows behind my parents’ garden.

“I thought you would enjoy your freedom.” he said softly, his voice a low rumble.

“What did you do to me? What did you do?!” I shrieked. “They don’t know me anymore! My own parents! What have you done to me?”

“You look the same to me.”

“They didn’t recognize me!”

“Well,” the goblin shrugged and gestured towards the house. “Were they expecting her to come back instead?”

Through the window of the house my old portrait could be seen, candles lit up around it like a shrine. A portrait of a well-fed, smiling young girl: hair perfectly combed, and dressed in a clean, wrinkle-free dress. I leaned forward to see my reflection in the pond. My dress was torn and stained beyond repair, my hair was tangled like seaweed, my cheeks were hollow, and my eyes were wild, filled with rage. I looked like an undead spirit that someone had dragged through the deep. A tear fell in the pond, distorting the image.

I fell back to the ground. The goblin gently picked me up and carried me back to the fishy, smelly cave. There was no point in resisting. He traveled much faster than I did, and we were back in his home before sunrise. He built a fire, and we sat and stared into it. I noticed that he was staring at me.

“What?” I asked wearily.

            “I’m surprised.” the goblin said. “When your death was certain, and when you had absolutely no chance of survival, you refused to give up. You would fight me day and night, with such spirit. But after you’ve finally proven your strength and wit, you pale at an old man and a woman telling you that you’re dead. You’ve given up now. I could do anything I wanted and you wouldn’t even care, would you?”

            “I have nothing to fight for anymore.” I said, looking into the fire.

“Is that so?” the goblin grinned and came close to me, too close for comfort. I backed away, frowning. He reached for me, but I smacked his hand away and rammed my elbow into his throat.

The goblin coughed and laughed. “That is more like you.” he said.

“What do you want me for, anyway?” I asked, pushing him further away. “Why did you bring me here in the first place?”

“I told you from the start. I want you for my wife.”

“You mean for your plaything.”

“You have been fun to play with.” the goblin admitted. “I’ve enjoyed our games. But have I ever mistreated you?”

He had not, not really, but I’d figured it was only a matter of time.

            “I want you to be mine because I like the fight in you.” the goblin explained. “So fight for yourself. If there’s anything worth fighting for, it’s you.” He looked at me seriously and gently closed his hand over my fist. “Don’t give up again.”