Tragic Innocence

Chapter 16: Goblin Emperor

            The dreaded conversation Sinot had dug up was now forgotten by the fearsome uproar.  Pentulla grimaced from the sudden rush of wind that blasted her silver hair upward, as it ruthlessly tossed small bits of gravel and odd debris into her stinging eyes.  The feeble flames of the miniature torch hissed to a silent standstill, plunging Pentulla into a thick darkness.  She squealed loudly from astonishment and fear.

            “What was that?”  Sinot jerked furiously as he strained to peer into the forbidding darkness. 

            Pentulla felt her skin prickle and the fine hairs at her arms rise on their own accord.  A presence she could feel, threatening, yet possessive, entered their realm of imprisonment.  She struggled against the shackles as best as she could, ignoring with much fervor the lacerating pain against her tender wrists.

            “Sinot…” she called out feebly in a quavering voice, too engrossed in her state of fear rather than thinking about the blackguard she had called for her rescue.  She was rendered vulnerable without her magic to aid her, nor could she feel the evil’s intentions as she had thought of earlier as a nuisance.  No, it was more of a blessing to be able to decipher one’s enemy’s motives through the aura they emanated!  How she cursed herself for spiting it!

            From a twist of a moment, a clamorous jumble resounded within the underworld as if a whole army marched with perfect synchronization, creating an atmosphere of doom.

            “Sinot!” Pentulla panicked as she lurched like a small desperate animal from a hunter’s trap, calling out his accursed name nonetheless.  “They are coming--they are coming!”  She trembled, trying to writhe away into the darkness, wishing she could turn herself invisible.

            Sinot’s chest heaved just as fiercely as Pentulla’s.  His sword had been confiscated, and he nonchalantly had left Mik’s bow and arrows in the cave.  He grumbled under his breath as fear burned like a flame engulfing a tree, smothered with anger and disgust.  If only I had been quicker or had managed to keep that dagger of Mikash’s, I could at least die with honor by trying to defend myself! 

            Then, just as quickly as it was heard, the hob regiment came to an abrupt standstill. 

            *You are no match for me...*

            Sinot heard a voice as clear as a bell ringing in the still air.  His darting eyes searched the oubliette desperately, seeking to connect the voice to an unseen face, but with no succession.

            The icy voice then burst into a mocking laughter.

            “Who is there?!” the wood elf frantically called out.

            “What?  Who are you talking to?”  Pentulla hung motionless as the dank air suddenly became too silent for her liking.  What were the goblins doing about this time?  A cold shuddered tore through her as she remembered their last encounter.

            *I am the Goblin Emperor.*  The voice was as smooth as cream, too suave and majestic to be that of a goblin,  Sinot noted with a bitter distaste.

            *What would cause you to believe that I am no goblin?  I am as goblin-blooded as are my loyal followers.*

            “Get out of my head!” Sinot screeched as he tightly squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his aching teeth.  He shook his head hysterically, as if it would help expel the voice that taunted him.