Apocalypse respawn

The statue before them was made of stone. It held a scepter in its left hand and a parchment in its right, both made of stone.

"And... so?" asked Rargnes after the initial joy.

"By grabbing one of them, a quest should activate. Normally, the scepter should be a mage's object, while the parchment... I'm not sure," replied the goblin.

Rargnes let them approach first, then, seeing no attack from the statue or trap trigger, he craned his neck to read.

It was some sort of hieroglyphics. A triangle was recurrent among them.

"And? Can you read?" he asked.

"Goblins cannot read other languages..." the goblin replied.

"You can speak but not read?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Then why?"

"Even if it were phonetic, I couldn't... someone needs to read them for me to understand roughly. The person needs to have the mastery. A goblin understands the essence, and communicates through their essence."

"And you don't have a language at birth that sets you apart from other goblins?"

"I'm not sure if a goblin can speak with their mouth. Surely the elites, the king's ministers, do."

"But does your mouth move?"

The goblin smiled. "It's more comfortable for our masters, but as you can see with goblins who have lost their minds, they can no longer hide their thoughts and speak almost constantly."

So, the goblins from his second life were conscious? Something was off. Rargnes furrowed his brows unconsciously, then turned to Sengrar, who had his hands on the scepter.

"Is it not activating?"

"Put some mage energy into it."

Sengrar suddenly disappeared, along with the presence of the scepter.

"He will reappear once his trial is finished," the goblin said expressly.

Rargnes nodded and waited. Even though he could put warrior energy into the parchment, he was safer waiting, to avoid being stabbed by the goblin on the way out. And then, it was probably for mages or lords.

"Otherwise, is there really no goblin who can remain uncorrupted and choose to stay?"

"They're not all sick, it's more of a generalization. But theory doesn't always match practice. Someone needs help, and we know someone who really wants to give it, in exchange for a favor, you understand? Some lords send goblins to not appear suspicious."

"And what are they looking for?"

"Those with abilities."

"And... can they attack?"

"I don't know enough, I would say yes, but they would want them alive, normally."

Rargnes was certain that his second version had died when he screamed in pain at the second arrow, and the goblin from the building next door had come out with a knife and bled him – tortured him. But even then, that goblin had only taunted him; he couldn't hear his thoughts.

Sengrar emerged a few moments later, his head filled with black and red circle tattoos.

"Wow, you've changed a lot. What was in there?"

"Wait." he seemed surprised to see him? He turned to the parchment, quickened his pace, and disappeared with the parchment.

There was silence.

"We can leave if you want."

Rargnes didn't respond.

"He'll be a few hours. We block the entrance and we leave?"

"But no, we'll wait for him."

"Magic, interests destroy even the deepest friendships."

And this one wasn't even long-lasting, Rargnes thought, leaning against the wall.

"In any case, he has no interest in harming you."

"Now, yes. But beings don't think with logic but with their feelings."

Rargnes had read in a book that if someone lost their feeling brain area, they couldn't choose between attending a meeting for work or picking up a pen. The guy had lost everything, everything, and he was talking about it with a smile. Nothing mattered anymore without feelings.

"Oh, shut up."

Rargnes sighed, meditated, and calmed down when Sengrar returned with apologies and a little smile. They slept and continued on their way, looking for opportunities.

Rargnes hastened to seize other opportunities and heard remarks from Sengrar, discontented. He moved his sleeping spot a few steps away to have time to wake up, just in case. He slept in fear, making his sleep light.

"Rargnes?" asked Sengrar in the middle of the street, shocked. "What is this?"

"Huh?"

The goblin approached and made a perturbed face.

Rargnes approached. They were on a scene soaked in blood. The corpse lay on the ground, its entrails open, its fingers cut off. A fluorescent green butterfly emerged from its mouth and went back in.

"No, this can't be possible," Rargnes swallowed.

It was his body from his second life!