Grouchily sitting back on top of my tall rock staring at this stupid fruit, it feels as though I’ve uselessly come full circle. Some clarity has certainly been received on the state of my attributes. However, is that really everything? I tried intensively training again to see if teasing out the song may be possible now. That didn’t work. It’s not as though the status changes caused the endurance attribute to belatedly appear since the athletics song was already maxed out. It’s definitely still broken. It’s only easier to see that it’s broken now.

  Reaching out with half of my divided consciousness, I swat at the creeping tether slinking down from the top of my head. The slime certainly desires this fruit very badly. I’m lucky that I buried it deep inside my pack for safekeeping, otherwise it would likely already be gone. Keeping it at bay while I ponder the fruit is annoying, but at least it’s been good practice.

  At any rate, my minds work properly, even if my stupid, little body is a dud. Is it really worth eating this awful thing? The deep mind clearly doesn’t trust the serpent. In fact, it violently despises it. The mud mind’s quiet on the issue entirely. Almost a complete reverse of the normal situation with the big ones. That’s interesting.

  “Ha’koff. Gew har,” I shout, readying for another experiment.

  Grumpily lumbering over to the base of the rock, the little one obstinately scowls up at me. Humoring the interesting possibility of having someone else test the fruit for me, I toss it down for him to awkwardly catch. For a moment, his eyes almost tear up at my offer of a rare gift. However, after smelling the produce, he heavily gags, nearly vomiting up the remnants of whenever we last ate.

  That's exactly what I thought. We goblinkind don’t eat any of that stupid, worthless plantlife of the ground. Cleaners of the mud. Order restorers of a proper, comfortable chaos! We eat meat. Bone. Flesh! The fresher, the better.

  Stomping off dejected, Ha’koff absentmindedly abandons the fruit in the dirty soil beneath us. Should I even bother fetching it again? Is it worth keeping? Am I really accepting an entire lifetime stuck as this feeble weakling?

  No, no, it’s not acceptance. It’s only distrust. I’m simply inclined to trust the deep mind’s instincts over the witty eloquence of that stupid, big serpent. It’s an intimate part of me, after all. There must be another way to become strong, even if my limp, pathetic arms will forever remain this way. The lowly body songs simply aren’t meant for me.

  Perhaps if I double down on the arcane, then there’s another way. Those songs are so much more attractive already anyways. Yes, that’s right! I remember how utterly broken and powerful that Linus was in the last dream. My minds nearly shattered as he rapidly rode that crazy spacial wave back to the tower. Spacial magic, my definite passion. Maybe the dreams are still teaching me something after all?

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  The dreams, yes. I’ve been hazily remembering more dreams every time we sleep. Far more than ever before. However, I can barely manage to hold on to them in my waking moments. Flickering, simple shadows of the mundane. Rehearsing for their strange mission. Friendly conversations in the market. More tense discourse with the guild. Eating lunch out of one of his hidden pockets.

  It’s funny, he always mixes his own food, never sharing as the others do. He also very quietly procures large amounts of raw ingredients in bulk at different, random villages scattered throughout the wheel. Is it cautiousness? So inefficient. He should just snatch some from someone nearby. He’s certainly powerful enough to take what he wants.

  Whatever other collective, common oddities that I can enumerate, the dreams are no longer as vivid as before. More of a simple, continuous stream that I’m passing in and out of with every deep rest down in the mud. What happened to the crisp, clear, critical moments from before? Is my teacher tiring of me? Tiring of the stupid, noodle armed weakling who can’t do anything right?

  Enough useless wallowing in negativity. Hopping off the rock, I pluck the dusty fruit off the ground, tightly wind it inside a strip of leather, and then bury it deep inside my bag. Should the situation change, it’s always an option. However, I’ll plan to forget its existence for now. I certainly don’t need any more burdens than those I already possess.

  “Ha’koff! Agobs gew. Gew ood. Fras,” I announce after walking over and heartily tapping him on the shoulder.

  The little one scowls at me again, but reluctantly nods. On a whim, I check on him more closely for the first time in a long while.

  At least I have one true friend and teammate amongst all the treacherous horrors here. One reliable partner. Partner? Like with the strong one? The strong one did have a partner too, but now he’s dead. Does that mean that the partner’s no longer the partner? Where did his arcane energy glow the strongest? The eyes. Oh, no, no, that won’t do at all. That would confuse him with the leviathan monstrosity flying around in the void. Can’t allow that sort of ambiguity. Let’s see, the quiet one? The wretched bather? Hm, this is a lot more difficult than I first thought.

  I wonder what became of the ex partner after the death of the strong one. Is he lost without his other? Will Ha’koff be lost if I die and lose my first mud? Will I be lost if Ha’koff loses his second? There’s also the slime! If I lose my first mud, then won’t he too be lost and left behind? Ugh, see! So many brutal burdens borne onto my shoulders already. I don’t need to add some stupid, worthless vegetable to it all.

  Back at the pits, I affectionately shove Ha’koff into his little hole and then pile the dirt on top of him. I’m so exhausted that I take my time when digging my own. Is it really alright living here in the void? The horrible serpent, the chattering teeth, the eerie, dangling eyes, the powerfully emanating walking sticks. This is almost certainly a short sample of the true list of horrifying denizens of this home.

  Therefore, is it really my home? It’s where I was born. Or created? My family, the brothers, are all here when not busy on Kyklos or the expeditions. Although, they’ve increasingly shown themselves to be quite the bores when not active. Except for Ha’koff, of course. What’s actually keeping me here?

  Regardless, time for rest. When next I wake, all the burdens will still remain for me to carry once again. Of that I can rest assured.