It truly was a joyous evening. We danced, poured ale, and carved roast mutton as if we were one giant family. Old grudges seemed erased. This was no longer God's punishment, but a blessing, a light that had washed away earthly desires and cleansed humanity's Seven Deadly Sins.
When I woke up the next morning and looked out the window, the forest still appeared clear and peaceful. I must have drunk too much ale last night. My father had gone into the forest early to gather wood, and the aroma of reheated stew drifted up to my room. Adults are truly bizarre creatures! How can they party all night but still wake up early and work tirelessly.
I got dressed, rubbed my eyes, and went downstairs. Mother said good morning and scooped a bowl of fragrant, hot stew along with a slice of bread. Oh, I didn't want to eat bread as hard and dry as the firewood my father chopped. I missed the tender, juicy mutton from last night. Reading my mind, Mother said: "Parties are only temporary. Work hard, and one day you'll eat well every day."
I reluctantly finished my breakfast, helped Mother wash the pots and bowls, and took the old clothes out to wash near the river bank. I needed to finish quickly so I could hang out with kids my age and talk about our wild dreams.
"Anna, you drank a lot last night. I thought you'd pass out after the fifth cup. I didn't even dare to drink," Margery said.
"After two cups, I was ready to faint. My dad had to carry me home," Martha chimed in.
"Hehe, I guess I'm not cut out to be the glamorous princess I always talk about," I replied.
Let's start with Margery. She is a year older than me, with bright red hair and a smile always on her lips. Normally I should call her 'sister', but with her kindness, innocence, and easygoing nature, we just used first names. We've been close friends for over ten years.
Then there's Martha. She's two years younger, only 14. Her jet-black hair is grown out and brushed smooth like mine, just a bit shorter. "Infected" by Margery's laid-back attitude, I consider her a peer as well.
"Did you guys notice anything strange about the forest last night?" I changed the subject.
"No, did you see something? It looked the same as always to me," Martha answered. "I think you should've paid more attention to old Sillas. He ate like it was his last meal on earth."
"I don't know if I should say this..." Margery suddenly lowered her voice. "Last night, after we ate, my dog Finn kept yanking his chain and barking frantically at the forest. Maybe he saw or sniffed something weird in there too? What did you see?"
"I'm only telling you two, so keep it a secret. Yesterday, while everyone was having fun, I saw glowing eyes watching us from the trees."
"Are you sure they weren't just fireflies?"
"Positive. I..."
AHHHH! Monsters! A bloodcurdling scream interrupted our conversation. What happened? That sounded like... no, it couldn't be... I sprinted toward the sound, followed closely by my two best friends. I couldn't let anything happen to my dear father. Other villagers also rushed over, grabbing hoes, shovels, and sticks to rescue whoever was in danger. Tears began to well up in my eyes...
When we arrived, my father was lying on his side, clutching his bleeding leg, his face contorted in agony. People quickly surrounded him, helped him up, and supported him out of the forest edge. What had happened to him?
We helped him to the edge of the stream to wash his wound. I could clearly see it was a slash—shallow, but rapidly swelling. I didn't know how can such a small wound make my bold father be in that agony. It must be either a poisoned blade or a severe infection setting in. The cool water seemed to soothe him. His flushed, sweaty face gradually relaxed. After a moment, he began thanking those who had pulled him out of that cursed place.
"What happened to you? Was it an accident?"
"Didn't you hear him say monsters? This place isn't safe. I told you those lights the other day were a bad omen!"
"Could he be possessed? We need to take him to the church for an exorcism immediately!"
"Stop talking nonsense!" I screamed. "Father, are you okay? Is everything alright?"
My father looked up at me. The pain and the crowd had probably made him forget I was even there.
"Thank you all for saving and helping me. I know you have many questions, but please allow me to go home, rest, and be with my family." my father spoke up.
Despite lingering curiosity, the crowd slowly dispersed to resume their chores. I helped my father home. Along the way, he kept looking back at the forest, then at me, deep in thought.
As soon as we entered the house, before my mother could even scream in terror or rush to help him to bed, my father stated firmly:
"We need to leave this village immediately. Stay away from the forest at all costs."
"Honey, what happened?" My mother went pale. "What exactly happened?"
My father began his story. As usual, he had gone into the woods to gather branches and reset his animal traps. But this time, something bizarre had occurred. All his traps were gone, replaced by strange footprints—prints only the size of a six or seven-year-old child's. Furious, thinking a kid or a prankster had stolen his catch, he grabbed his axe and followed the tracks to a cave. After shouting threats at the entrance and getting no response, he made a fatal mistake: he walked into the dark cave without a torch.
Suddenly, a sharp pain slashed across his leg, and the darkness lit up with yellow eyes. Panicking, he fled, leaving his axe behind and screaming for help. By the time he reached the forest edge, the wound worsened, his leg went numb, and he collapsed. That led to what we just witnessed.
Yellow eyes... That was exactly what I had seen. A chill ran down my spine. An unprecedented evil was now reigning in this forest.
"We must leave right now. First thing tomorrow morning, we leave."
"But shouldn't we warn the village?"
"There's no time for that. You and our daughter start packing immediately. If we happen to see them again, we can apologize later." He grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry for this hasty decision, Anna, but I trust my instincts."
That very afternoon, we began packing. By nightfall, all our belongings were loaded onto a wagon. Meanwhile, my father dug a hole under the fireplace and buried a portion of our money and some small tools.
Just as we finished our final preparations, piercing screeches echoed from the forest, crashing down upon our peaceful village like a tidal wave. Sillas's dog began barking furiously, straining to snap its chain. Everyone rushed out of their houses, lighting torches, gathering around, and murmuring about the fading screams.
Then, the flickering torchlight revealed the silhouettes of children about seven years old. Their skin was a sickly green, their long ears pointed outwards, and their orange eyes burned with pure malice. We had never faced anything like this. Some brave men (or just curiosity) stepped forward, wielding knives and axes. At first, the green goblins seemed hesitant against the men. But then, acting on some unseen signal, they drew wooden spears and crude stone tools and charged.
Quickly, the villagers' bravery turned into foolishness. Their deaths rapidly proved how dangerous these green demons were. "Get on the horses, now!" my father roared.
I didn't hesitate. Mother and I scrambled onto the wagon with our essentials and fled as the village sank into a sea of fire and agonizing screams. The fear only began to fade from our minds when the village was far out of sight. We looked at each other: What the hell was that? Green dwarfs pouring out of the forest, slaughtering and burning everything in their path. At the same time, I silently thanked my father; his sharp instincts and decisive action had saved us from the massacre.
That night was the longest of my life; none of us could close our eyes. The wagon traveled through the night, pulled by two horses my father had somehow managed to borrow, bringing us to the nearest town by dawn.
When we reported the invasion to the local Lord, he simply laughed. I still remember that booming laugh, as if we were lunatics or the best actors he had ever seen. If we hadn't sworn upon our lives and all our property, we probably would never have received any help. Eventually, he dispatched over a hundred cavalrymen to investigate. We were forced to accompany them as guides and to verify our story.
The cavalry marched until evening and rested. The next morning, we returned to the village where I was born and raised. Now, it was nothing but ruins. The stench of charred wood mixed with the smell of corpses made me nauseous.
Suddenly, I thought of Margery and Martha. Were they still alive? Then I realized: among the corpses, there were almost no women. For a brief moment, I felt truly relieved. The guilt of abandoning my friends vanished. Perhaps the men had managed to help the women escape to safety?
"These footprints," my father said to the cavalry captain. "They lead into the forest, probably to the cave where I first encountered them."
"Lead the way," the captain ordered.
We split into two groups. While Mother and I stayed behind to search for survivors and watch the horses, my father guided the knights into the woods to exterminate the goblins.
After a while, screams and roars began echoing from the forest. Mother and I huddled together in terror. We truly didn't know who we could rely on anymore. The sounds lasted well past noon before slowly fading away.
I saw the cavalry emerge with my father. They carried unconcious women over their shoulders—it seemed they had been dragged into the cave. Others carried the carcasses of the goblins. But some men had lost their ability to return in that deep cave; I recognized two horse-hide blankets draped over two bodies.
And among the rescued, I spotted one of my friends - Martha. Their naked bodies were covered in bruises and wounds, hastily wrapped in animal skins likely taken from the dead goblins.