To Fly the Soaring Tides

Cira had it on good authority that goblins did not experience any manner of circadian rhythm and only slept during their digestive cycle. This meant it didn’t matter what time she popped back in. She didn’t forget about them—how could she?

The meeting didn’t take long after she learned Cap Kieran was someone that Black Scourge Don did a fair amount of business with. Evidently, he was a regular buyer of deritium as well, but James said he probably just had someone paying him top dollar for it somewhere else.

In an attempt to not be interested in where it was going, Cira turned to the caves. This was a great opportunity to check on the shadow goblins and keep her mind occupied as the sun went down.

One of those bugs dared assault her on the way in and was reduced to base ingredients. It was a light stroll. Cira stopped in front of the stairs and turned around to look at her shadow cast from her magic.

“Okay, you can come out now.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall impatiently. “I said you can come out now!”

““Byahh!!”” Six more shadows stumbled out of her own, crying and tripping over themselves. They had to shield their eyes and shrunk back until Cira dimmed her Lamplight.

“Sorry guys.” Cira pulled six fish from her pockets and distributed them—she found herself in another surplus. Her pockets were practically overflowing with it. “Thanks for the help back then.”

She didn’t know how specifically they understood her, but still felt the need to express gratitude. It was more than a couple months later at this point, but they really helped out carrying the essence loom after the boats burned up.

““Yahh!!”” They giddily hopped around, tugging at her robes and making disturbing yet joyful noises.

“Simmer down, now. We’re moving along.” Cira would ask how they ended up in her shadow in the first place but knew she wouldn’t get an answer. She also found herself wondering if they had been there the whole time or if they hid somewhere during the reforging.

The destination of this visit was the heart of her goblin kingdom. Formerly known as the residential district of Archaeum, these lands were now under Cira’s rule.

So, I’m the goblin king. Cira thought, walking through the streets with her shadowy posse. What am I supposed to do for them? I’m leaving soon, after all. I can’t stay and oversee their lives, nor do I feel comfortable pumping one full of mana to create a new king in my absence.

One thing was clear as Cira walked through the ruins, though. She should be ashamed to call such shambles her kingdom. The smell of must and eternally unsettled dust, the clattering of broken shutters in the steadfast breeze, bricks beneath her feet swiftly returning to the earth.

Now that Cira’s aura was back, she could see deep into the shadows. The entire residential district was like this. Only a few centuries and much of it was hardly standing. The goblins likely had a large role in this, but she didn’t blame them. No one was to blame—this was simply the state of affairs. But only one sorcerer shouldered the responsibility.

This is my kingdom? How disgraceful. No matter what I decide, I can’t leave these guys like this, nor can I let them further tear down Kuja’s heritage.

A crowd formed in her wake and the goblins silently followed her on surrounding streets, but it seemed the masses were too shy to show themselves in her Lamplight. After experimenting for a while, she landed on a close analog to moonlight to disturb them the least, but it seemed they weren’t sure how close they were allowed to get.

It wasn’t until reaching the plaza that her people appeared in droves. Contrary to the silence that followed, some were cheering or snickering with each other. Excitement was clear in their big, beady eyes and she could feel a pensive joy through the connection she made to speak into their minds.

Dammit, now I can’t let them down because they’re already worried I will. Why is being a ruler so hard?

In her head, before she thought about it, this seemed like a simple plan. Head on down below and talk to the goblins all at once.

It was only when she stood in the center of hundreds, if not thousands of them, all anxiously peering in from the dark, that Cira realized she just threw herself into the exact sort of mush pot that drove her to the caves in the first place.

It doesn’t really matter if they’re goblins or regular people… it’s basically the same thing, right? What in the world drove me to gather everyone present to hear me speak? Am I an idiot?

The anticipation in Archaeum grew so dense Cira would struggle to punch a hole in it. Their murky yellow eyes sparkled exponentially as she slowly spun in circles, letting her gaze pass over them all.

I can do this right? My Dad was a Goblin Lord, so how hard could a measly king have it? I’ll never unite the nations of Mudrock if I can’t do this much.

Cira took a deep breath.

“Good evening, people of Stygian Deep” Cira felt a wind of confidence at her back from coming up with a solid name on the fly like that and found herself somewhat emboldened, “I am pleased to be here today.”

Again, Cira had no idea to what degree they understood her, but these words were spoken through emotion and concept, sent directly to their minds. The ability basically manifested itself when Undina granted her a gift.

The goblins cheered and clapped, threw their hands up and even hugged each other. They seemed a very tight-knit people. In Cira’s timid heart, she found the response wholesome. It helped that she could feel the relief they felt. In their shoes, Cira would think it too soon to feel that way, but now she was even more obligated to do right by them.

“Bring me your smartest individual and your strongest caster” Hopefully the first one existed, or they may not understand what she meant. Somehow, she saw a lot of goblins looking around. Perhaps they were smarter than she gave them credit for.

After a short ruckus, only one goblin stepped forward.

She kept looking, but that was it. He slowly stepped closer as Cira waited for more, but there were none.

“F-forgive…” His mind replied, despite the unintelligible cries he spoke. Cira was a little worried looking at this one’s muscles—like a spitting image—but he fell to his knees, “Please, King! Forgive!”

He hung his head low and the newfound silence from the crowd had started to grow restless. A few even mirrored his actions and cried, “Forgive!”, as best they could in goblin speak from the ground.

The only way about it was to nip this in the bud. Her orichalcum staff appeared and crashed into the ground, sending a single small quake through the island.

“Enough. Stand when you ask for forgiveness.” The goblin before her started, while a large number stood around the same time. Some noticeably had to figure it out, but there wasn’t a single goblin left kneeling.

“Forgive, please… King.” The goblin stood before her with his fist clenched in front of his chest, staring into Cira’s eyes with more resolve than she had seen from many men.

“Forgive what?” It had to be asked.

But he suddenly looked anxious, “My… my father. He fight—"

“I see.” Cira stopped him with a hand. His father punched her in the face, and she bludgeoned him to death—probably in front of this boy’s eyes. Strangely, it was the child who wanted to be forgiven. “There is no need. Your father’s sins died with him.”

It felt blunt, but it also felt like the right thing to say.

The boy’s eyes glazed over, and he tried to fall to his knees again, but Cira quelled it with an upward motion of the hand, “I am the king now, so do not trouble yourself with the past. Are there any others who can speak to me?”

The goblin looked around briefly then returned to Cira a little downcast, “No.” was the gist of it.

“Then bring me your most powerful casters, or strongest wielders of magic.”

He shouted something that was probably goblin names. It was difficult to say whether they sounded closer to animal calls or words, but there was a shuffle in the crowd.

One goblin stepped forward after a minute or so. She wore dark robes that completely covered her body and face, but wielded a broken stalagmite with a rock tied to the top. Cira was impressed to feel mana within it.

“Gah!” She said.

Cira blinked a few times, looking at the first goblin.

Instead of replying, he turned to the new girl and shouted something else. In response, she held up her staff and shrieked as fire bloomed above their heads. Still short of the ceiling, an explosion shook the cavern and crimson light slowly fizzled out.

Overjoyed at this development, Cira clapped, “Well done!”

“Thank you, my King.” The gobliness knelt before Cira.

Cira could feel her unfounded respect, and it at least felt better than the reverence she received from humans on the surface.

“You can understand me too?” She was surprised that the girl annunciated better than the former king’s son.

“Y-yes. I just learn.” Her grammar could use a little work, but Cira must have had a genius on her hands, or perhaps it wasn’t too difficult for the magically inclined. Either way, it was too bad she was set on leaving later. She could easily stay here for months and write a book about it, but the winds called her name.

“King!” The boy shouted as darkness welled up around his fist, “King, Look at me!”

Apparently vying for attention of perhaps compliments, the son of the goblin Cira killed’s face lit up with glee and he brought his fist down hard into the ground. An explosion of shadow cracked the earth and Cira realized how the residential district had likely fallen apart in so few centuries. The moonlit Lamplight flickered out and nearly shattered from the force.

Abrupt as it was, Cira couldn’t help but be impressed by the display. Even some of the surrounding goblins clapped.

This makes my job easy. I need to get these guys out of Archaeum.

“Everyone, listen to me.” The attention didn’t bother her this time, and they all eagerly hung on her next words, “The time has come for you to follow me to your new home.”