“Getting down
and dirty”
Mr. Clean*
Read my game informer more today. Mmmmm reading. Words are tasty.
Speaking of reading: Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Goblin And It's Master
I'm a simple little goblin. Green and dressed in brown with bright
yellow eyes. And like many I've been summoned from my homeland when I
was born and bound into servitude by a magic caster. My master is a
witch. She's a powerful caster, famous and well known. And not
someone to cross. So far I served her for the past sixteen years of
my life, as I said from birth.
Today though something unusual happened. While the witch worked on
powerful concoction in her cauldron something went horribly wrong and
the cauldron shot forth magical fumes that engulfed her. She fell to
the ground injured, her magic drained, her body weak and dying. I sat
at the edge of the room.
“Goblin!” She yelled with her usual angry, barking voice. “Get
me the white healing potion off the shelf!” Her voice turned weaker
when the pain started to weaken.
I started to go for the potion on my trained instincts of being her
summoned slave but then I realized something: For the first time in
my life she was weaker than me. She was on the verge of death. I knew
what she was working on. I knew in a few moments she would be dead.
I knew if I did nothing she would die and I would be free.
I didn't even know what freedom was though. Did I want it? Would I
prefer to keep serving her until the day I died? I knew that she
otherwise used spells to decrease the rate of her aging so I would be
under her control forever. If I didn't grab the healing potion I
would be a slave forever. But also in a way I would murder her. Would
I murder her for freedom, something I didn't quite understand? After
thinking about all the years I spent with the witch I made my
decision.
I left the healing potion on the shelf.
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