Count Rassier’s ancestors used to have the title of margrave. Upon the division of the house over a hundred years ago, the title was broken up and was downgraded to mere counts. According to history, the internal conflict was so severe and messy that the king of that time demoted the divided houses with full backing of other noble houses. Tristan Rassier, the current head of the Rassier, managed to unify his house once again. His vassals expected him to regain the title of margrave once more. However, four months passed by without a single letter from the royal family of Steterra. His close and loyal vassals were rightfully angry toward the royal family. The count himself was on a crossroad as well. Does he dare make noises or does he remain silent? Remaining silent was hardly an option because, by doing so, it meant that he was going to accept being a mere count. Interestingly though, one of his “direct and loyal” vassals was entirely missing from his private court. Perhaps even more interestingly, neither cared.

  “Ohhhhh - !”

  Gavin had his ear right on Isabel’s belly over her modest dress.

  “My baby is in there!” he exclaimed with a delighted face and voice. “My child! A son or a daughter, no matter! It is my child! My lovely wife has my child!”

  Ansel and Selena were observing them obediently by door. They were at Isabel’s chamber.

  “B, Baron…, please…” Isabel looked awfully embarrassed. Her face was red even. “There are eyes…”

  He glanced back at them. “So what? One is Ansel who is almost like my son. The other is the head maid and your personal maid also. They have the right to see.”

  She couldn’t talk back because he was right. Both Ansel and Selena had the right to see how the couple got along. Isabel declared her pregnancy in her second month. She must have wanted to make sure absolutely and ended up consulting with Selena in private prior to the disclosure. Anyway, Gavin hugged her from where he was, which was a kneeled down position, making him hug her hips instead, burying his face sideways against her groin. She must have been really embarrassed and pushed him away. Selena poked Ansel with her elbow, which was a signal that they should excuse themselves.

  “Baron and baroness, we shall excuse now,” Ansel spoke. “And congratulations.”

  Gavin waved them away, looking uninterested about them. “Yes, yes, leave us be.”

  Bowing, the duo left and closed the door gently.

  “Oh, my, the baron is really, really, happy,” Selena remarked as they walked down in a hallway.

  “He should be. He waited 43 years for this.”

  Giggling, she said, “Anyway, congrats on your birthday. You are twelve now.”

  “Yay,” he replied nonchalantly.

  “Teens of your age would be happy.”

  “It’s not like there is anyone who truly cares about my birthday anyway.”

  “I care.”

  Eyes slightly wide, he looked up to her who was looking back down on him.

  “Thanks,” he replied, again nonchalantly.

  “Do you not feel anything, like at all?”

  “I do have feelings. I just don’t show as easily as others do.”

  It was sort of a lie. He did have feelings but they were always subtle and weren't something he cared to begin with. Unless they were extraordinary and profound, he never showed it or, to be more precise, he couldn’t care less.

  He added, “This is just the way I am. Please understand.”

  At least, he knew that it wasn’t an illness of some sort. He was a voidkin.

  “Well, it’s not like we can change you now. It’s probably too late. You are already twelve.”

  I am fine the way I am. You don’t need to force your ways onto me. But he kept his thoughts inside.

  “Excuse me now. I am going to go patrol the town.”

  “You go out there almost everyday. Is there something you need to do daily?”

  “Yes, there are plenty.”

  In fact, he wasn’t going out to patrol exactly. It took months but it was finally decided to remove ruined structures as well as large debris within the town, which was quite frankly a sore sight and reminder of the recent conflict.

  The only reason it took this long for them to finally decide to do something about it was the lack of manpower as well as the need. It took months, but finally people were starting to return en masse. Therefore, the town needed a clearing up in order to start rebuilding. They still lacked the man power but decided to go ahead with the plan.

  “Yo, Ansel,” Finnic threw a casual greeting when he reached the market where ten soldiers were gathered. Gavin always manned the wooden gate to the manor with a pair of guards, meaning they had twelve soldiers in total. The gathered soldiers weren’t clad in armor on this occasion. Instead, they were all wearing casual clothes because it wasn’t a battle they were going to participate in on this day.

  “The baron will grant you a whole pig once we are done with this,” he declared which made the men cheer loudly. Gavin wasn’t aware of this generosity however. He was making his own call and had the authority to do so even.

  The baron probably couldn’t care less. He is too preoccupied with his life now.

  Whether it was love for his wife or a fixation for a child, he started to care progressively less about the town affairs, leaving almost all decisions to Ansel. The days were gone where he battled paper works. Since Ansel could now read and write, he left such tasks to him entirely as well. He spent most of his spare time with Isabel. He no longer worked out in the morning also. Ansel realized that Gavin retired truly and decided that he would no longer call him to arms. He would probably refuse to participate anyway. Ansel felt that a phase in Gavin’s life was over. He remained rather young in spite of his advanced age due to his active duty as a soldier. Since that phase was now over, he couldn’t help but feel that Gavin was aging rather rapidly in both appearance and behavior. But it was probably for the better. The man deserved a little peace and delight in his life. Besides, the more he was smitten with the baroness, the easier it was going to be for her to convince her husband to move away from Count Rassier.

  “Alright!” Finnic cracked his fingers. “That’s what I am talking about! Let’s get to the work, lads! Let’s get the town cleaned!”

  Nobody expected Ansel to help out, given his small physique. And he wasn’t going to. He knew what he was capable of, and physical labor wasn’t one of them. Instead, he was going to oversee the whole operation, barking out orders here and there while inspecting the town.

  “Mr Page, Mr Page,” a shirtless miner called him casually when he was passing by. In spite of having a last name, Asvete, town folks called him Page since he was more known as the baron’s page.

  “Yes?”

  “We found a weird goblin.”

  “A weird goblin?”

  “Ye, miners found some lone goblin that was apparently mining? We were going to kill it since it’s alone, but it hasn’t bothered us at all? So, we are leaving it alone right now.”

  A deep goblin?!

  “Lead me to the goblin.”

  “Sure thing.”

  A deep goblin was a rare variant of common goblins. In spite of sharing the common ancestor as the gobkind, common goblins and deep goblins were very much polar opposite. It was also known as one of very few monsters that were not hostile toward humans.

  “This way, Mr Page.”

  The shirtless miner led him down to path two, the middle of the three paths in the mine. Whether a coincidence or not, this path two was also the one without goblins during the recent mine clear out event. Where Ansel was led to was the very end of the path where a lone goblin was using a small pickaxe to dig. It was really minding its own business in spite of two miners looking dumbfounded nearby.

  “Oh, foreman. You brought help?” one of them asked.

  “This is the page.”

  Again, in spite of the conversation, the goblin was simply picking away rocks without paying any attention to them. However, when Ansel approached it, its ears pricked up and it startled, turning around in an instant and pointing its pickaxe toward him.

  “Guba!” it exclaimed. Of course, nobody, including Ansel, knew what it was saying. What Ansel could deduce at least was that the goblin didn’t like him approaching. Given the fact that it was ignoring the miners, the answer seemed simple, at least to him.

  “You are a mana user, aren’t you?”

  A voidkin was a disaster for mana users. Gadric once told him that his skin tingled when he was too close to him. Of course, the goblin wasn’t able to answer him but his reaction was a clear indication. The deep goblin had goggles to protect its eyes and was shirtless as most goblins were. Apart from the goggles, it looked almost identical to ordinary goblins although its overall demeanor looked less menacing.

  “Everyone, leave us be,” he told the miners. With nods, they swiftly left the tunnel. Once left alone, he raised his hands to his ear level, trying to convey that he meant no harm.

  “Guba! Guba!” It continued to bark at him regardless. Ansel stood still with his hands up midway. The two were at a stalemate for a moment until the goblin lowered its pickaxe slowly. Perhaps it finally got the message that he meant no harm.

  Does “Guba” mean stay away or something like that? He wondered.

  “Ni Guba?”

  Ni means no? Let’s take a shot at this.

  “Ni Guba,” he said.

  “Ni Guba?”

  “Ni Guba.”

  “Guwa?”

  While he had no idea what “Guwa” meant, the trajectory of the conversation led him to believe that the goblin was asking why. He pointed at his mouth slowly and pointed at him.

  “I want to talk,” he added.

  “Gak?”

  Again, he took a hunch.

  “Gak.”

  It folded his arms and fell into thoughts, or at least it looked like so to him. It took something out of its pocket and showed it to him. It looked like some sort of quartz crystal cluster except it had ocean blue hue. The color was very much identical to the content of the mana potion he received from Gadric. Since speaking to it wasn’t possible, unless he knew more words at least, he pointed at himself, and it nodded. The goblin walked a few steps forward and placed the blue crystal cluster on the rocky ground. He carefully picked it up. The moment he touched it, it could sense a familiar sting flowing through his arm. It was mana.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “A mana stone?!” he blurted. But the sensation didn’t last long, and the color of the cluster was visibly being drained toward him, eventually leaving a colorless, crystal clear, cluster. The amount of mana he absorbed from it was very faint, not even enough to replenish the cost of dark vision he cast a while ago. He placed the cluster down where it was, and the goblin picked it up, inspected it very closely, and soon looked very giddy.

  “Good, Good!”

  He blinked his eyes in amusement. It looked like the humans and the goblins shared a word. Its face was clearly that of joy and it pulled out something from its pocket and carelessly tossed it toward him. It looked like a tusk that was very much straight. Initially, he thought it might have been an orc tusk, but it was just too straight to be theirs.

  “A tusk?”

  It was pretty much the same size as a short sword. He had to wonder how it could have stored it in its tiny pocket.

  “Is it mine?” he pointed at himself while asking.

  “Gooba.”

  He wasn’t sure whether it meant “yes” or “yours”. Nevertheless, he carefully grabbed the tusk and it felt very heavy, far heavier than an object of the same size.

  “Ah -” The goblin pointed behind him, and naturally he glanced back only to find the goblin gone when he found nothing and turned his attention back. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds at the most. It must have been the teleportation spell.

  “Well, that was a fruitful experience regardless,” he said to himself. Not only did he meet a deep goblin, he even communicated with it while learning a few words, and then even received a gift for service. He eventually exited the mine and met up with the foreman.

  “Have you ever mined some blue crystals before from the mine?”

  “Blue crystals? Nope, never. If we ever mined something like that, it would have been big news and words would have spread. Did you kill the monster?”

  “Well, no, we talked and it left.”

  The foreman narrowed his eyes. “You… talked to it? It’s a goblin though?”

  “It’s a deep goblin, a far more mature kind. I knew it could talk. But, boy, I did not expect to be able to communicate like civilized beings.”

  He noticed the tusk in Ansel’s hands. “And what’s that? A tusk?”

  “Yes, indeed. The goblin gave it to me.”

  “Woah, I learned something new today. Talking to a monster and then receiving a gift from it?”

  “Trust me. I am just as surprised as you are. Do you know which creature this belongs to?”

  “Can I examine it?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Woah, this thing is fucking heavy!” he uttered as he took the tusk over from Ansel. He had a closer look and shook his head. “No clue. But let me try this…”

  Pulling out a dagger, he slashed at it. Interestingly, not only did it leave no scratch, it sounded like metal. Then he placed the tusk on the ground and slashed it really hard, only to snap his dagger in half instead.

  “No ordinary tusk,” he concluded. “You are going to need to see a proper blacksmith. Maybe this is a dragon’s tooth?”

  Ansel chuckled. “Surely, you jest.”

  “Yeah, I am just talking outta my arse. But I am sure that this is no ordinary tusk. Maybe not dragon’s, but this must be from a powerful monster or creature.”

  While he handed the tusk back to Ansel, he asked, “Is the mine clear now?”

  “Yes, you may resume your work.”

  “Thanks, Mr Page.”

  Given how heavy it was, carrying it around wasn’t really an option. Therefore, he went back to the manor and left it in his room which was just a guest room. Instead of joining Finnic to oversee the debris cleanup, he sat down and pulled out a piece of paper. He had plenty of papers and ink since Gavin wanted him to master reading and writing fast.

  “So.., the goblin language… It’s not much of a language. They seem to be using individual words to get messages across…”

  He began to write down what he learned from the day’s encounter with a deep goblin.

  Ni = No

  Guba = Stay Away

  Guwa = Why / How come

  Gak = Talk

  Good = Good

  Gooba = Yes / yours

  There was a faint grin on his face. “Never in a million years have I thought that goblins and we shared a common word…”

  He grew an urge to talk to goblins to learn their language but soon realized that it was just wishful thinking. An encounter with a deep goblin was rare.

  “I do wonder whether the words the deep goblin spoke can be used against common goblins…”

  It reminded him that he could have tried talking to orcs as well since it did seem like they had their own words like the goblin. Thinking back, it seemed like their language structure was similar, using words to convey meanings without verbs, adjectives, and such.

  “...............”

  “...............”

  He was in a whirlwind of thoughts. By the time he snapped out, he realized that everything was orange. It was evening.

  “Oh, shoot…!”

  He rushed out of his room and met up with Finnic.

  “Dude, where have you been?”

  “I am sorry. Something came up.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I am sure you were busy. Normally, I’d say you are lying, but you are indeed a busy person, so I won’t say anything.”

  Ansel looked around. Some work was done but, overall, there was so much more to do.

  “Can you give an ETA for this?”

  Wiping sweat away with a small, dirty, towel, Finnic responded, “Five days minimum. I think ten days realistically. We can’t go all out every single day.”

  “Might need more than a single pig then…”

  “Now yer talking. Anyway, we are about to hit the tavern. Wanna tag along? I know you turned twelve recently. Let’s have some beer.”

  Under normal circumstances, he would have refused. However, it was a good day for him and he did feel sorry for skipping the entire day. Therefore, he accepted.

  “Sure, why not.”

  This response made Finnic’s eyes go wide. “Dude, are you sick?”

  “Come on. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

  Chucking, he had his arm around Ansel and marched toward the tavern. Unfortunately, his day wasn’t going to end on a good note because he found someone familiar in the tavern.

  “... Clara?” He was shocked to find Clara, the former maid, working as a waitress in the tavern.

  “You know her?” Finnic asked. He may have seen her a few times. It wasn’t apparently enough to remember her face.

  She seemed to be surprised to see Ansel as well. “Mr Page! I …, uh, didn’t expect to see here!”

  It made perfect sense. Sending letters afar cost money even though the cost was very little. But, if she was sending it from within the town, all she had to do was just deliver the letters by herself.

  “Finnic, you go ahead. I need to have a talk with her.”

  He snickered. “What, is she your ex or something?”

  “Worse than that.” Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her toward the tavern owner who recognized Ansel.

  “Mr Page? Do you know Clara?”

  “Sir, may I borrow a backroom?”

  He seemed clueless. “Sure? Go ahead.”

  The backroom had nothing more than a cheap bed and a desk. Ansel dragged her and threw her to the ground. Sitting down on a stool, he crossed his legs and arms. Looking down on her imposingly, he demanded.

  “Leave.”

  She made no attempt to get up. Instead, she remained exactly how she landed, looking like a damsel in distress.

  “I can’t…”

  “Why not?”

  She remained silent.

  “Leave,” he demanded once more, adding. “The baron won’t forgive you. In fact, he may execute you if he sees you. He is in awfully good mood right now. Ruining that will do no good for you.”

  “I cannot leave…”

  “Then tell me the truth.. Why are you here?” he demanded.

  It took a while for her to answer. “I want to … I WANT TO MARRY UP!”

  “Marry up?”

  “Working as a maid in a noble household is the only way to easily marry up. Even marrying a butler is a huge step up for a commoner girl like me!”

  “So, that’s why you hit on Wallace.”

  She reluctantly nodded.

  “Did you know that he was a married man?”

  She lifted her face and looked up to him with tears in her eyes. “I swear to the tri-moons. He told me that he was single.”

  Sighing with exasperation, he replied, “I was not joking when I said the baron might execute you. You cannot expect him to help you. Believe me, I tried.”

  “You... tried? Can you help me at least?”

  “It is a letter of recommendation you are after, yes?”

  She nodded slowly. She was obviously going to hit on a butler in another noble household. Gavin was right. She was only going to drag his name through the mud.

  Should I … kill her?

  Such a thought came across his mind. She was only going to cause problems. Removing her from the occasion seemed like a wise idea in the long term.

  “Like I said, the baron won’t help you. But, if it’s just a letter of recommendation you want, I can write one for you. As the baron’s page, I do have the authority to write one. But it won’t be under the baron’s name.”

  Her face lit up regardless, but he had to make it clear.

  “I don’t think you will be employed by the majority of noble houses with my letter of recommendation since my name isn’t known. But some backwater noble houses may. Try finding a baronet house.”

  Upon listening to him, she looked clearly hesitant.

  “This is better than nothing, mind you. Why don’t you just continue to work as a waitress and get hooked up with one of its patrons?”

  “NO!” she exclaimed then lowered her voice. “I want to marry up…”

  “Then take my letter. It is better than nothing.”

  Very reluctantly, she gave him a nod after a moment of consideration.

  “I will write one up right now. Get your stuff packed up and ready to leave once you receive the letter.”

  “Can’t I stay here for a bit longer…?”

  “I won’t give the letter to you unless you agree to leave right now. I will inform the tavern master. You just pack things and wait at the market.”

  Sobbing weakly, she agreed, “Fine…”

  After informing the tavern owner that Clara had to leave ASAP, which bewildered him but couldn’t argue, she was sent to her room to pack her belongings. It turned out that she was a pretty good waitress and was getting pretty popular among patrons. He was sad to see her go but had no power to stop him Ansel. On his way back to the manor to write up the letter of recommendation, he genuinely considered assassinating her because she was going to cause trouble. He ultimately decided against the idea - for now -. If she came back to beg once more, then he was going to assassinate her personally. He wrote up a letter of recommendation swiftly. The most important bit was at the end where the name of the guarantor was written. He chose to use “Page Ansel of Baron Durrell”. He opted not to use his full name, Ansel Asvete, because he did not wish to taint the Asvete name. Should Clara mess up once again, the mud was going to be thrown at “Page Ansel”. She was unlikely hired by any reputable noble house anyway with this level of recommendation. Folding it gently and placing it in an envelope, he took it to Clara by the market. There was no red wax to seal and stamp. He was just a page after all. The mere lack of the red wax meant most butlers wouldn’t even bother reading it.

  “Here you go.”

  She had a large bag in her hand and was wearing crude pants and shirts, a stark contrast from a moment ago where she wore a daily decent dress. It looked like the dress was for the tavern.

  “There is no seal…”

  “I am just a page, you know.”

  She looked very disappointed.

  “It’s not going to work… Butlers won’t even read it.”

  “Which is why I told you to go to a backwater county.”

  “Did big sis…, Selena, mention about me, like at all?”

  “No,” he lied.

  “Figures. She never sent a reply, either…”

  “Are you taking the letter or not?”

  With a long sigh, she took the letter and started to walk. Her steps seemed heavy, and her posture projected utter dejection and loneliness. As much as Ansel wanted to have sympathy for her, he simply couldn’t because he felt that her misfortune was of her own making. He compared her with Isabel Grimhill. The latter married down to perhaps find her happiness. Clara was on the same boat. She was trying to marry up to find her happiness. Neither method was wrong, he felt. Isabel had the leeway to marry down whereas Clara was at rock bottom.

  “Each to their own,” he whispered to himself while watching Clara’s figure getting progressively smaller. When he got back to the tavern, the only waitress left was having a hellish time because of Clara’s sudden absence. Finnic and his men weren’t making things easier, either, because they were tippy at this point and were harassing her. Ansel sat down on a stool in front of the counter where the owner was observing the increasingly worryful situation.

  “Is she gone?” he asked.

  “Yes, she had to leave due to her family issues.”

  “She told me that she was an orphan though.”

  “She must have lied.”

  He heard a woman’s scream and looked back. One of the soldiers grabbed the helm of the waitress’ skirt. He was trying to pull up her skirt.

  “Mr Page, you’ve got to do something about this. She cannot quit now especially when she is the only waitress left,” he pleaded.

  “Could I get a mug of beer first?”

  “You are a bit too young for that.”

  “A mug please and this will be taken care of.”

  With a sigh, he opened up a keg behind him and poured him a mug of beer. Ansel took a long sip.

  “Well, it tastes as bad as before.” He finished about one third of the mug. Placing it down, he stood up. Taking a deep breath, he bellowed.

  “FINNIC!”

  Everyone in the tavern main hall froze.

  “Get a hold of your men, Finnic. You are a fucking knight. Act like one.”

  This was the moment he realized the major difference between Gavin and Finnic. The former was a model knight. The latter was just a man in a shiny suit of armor.

  “R… right,” Finnic gulped and nodded. “Lads, tone it down. Miss, just leave us be.”

  The waitress rushed to the backroom in haste. It was at this point where Ansel realized that Ted wasn’t among the men. He wondered why he was absent.

  “Well, since I’ve ruined the mood, I will excuse myself.” Having said so, he walked out of the tavern. He had an interesting thought. It was that he felt more comfortable talking to a goblin than humans. The goblin paid for the service Ansel provided fair and square. That was how a functional relationship was supposed to be, give & take. Human relationships were often one-sided.

  “And one-sided relationships tend to fall apart eventually…,” he whispered to himself, enjoying the slight warmth generated by the beer inside him. “Well, maybe beer isn’t so bad after all. It tastes like shit, but the warmth is sure nice.”

  He wished to meet the deep goblin again. He felt that it was far more beneficial than dealing with humans.