Something about the unnatural voice freezes me solid. Somehow working up the strength despite my sudden rigidity, I peer over my shoulder to see who’s speaking. A big one stands on the stairs descending from the open walkways above. As with all the others, his eyes and entire being are passionately fixated on me.

  Is that their leader? He doesn’t look any different than the others. Same outfit, longer hair, and maybe slightly shorter than the others. Does he have a special song that saw right through my disguise?

  A moment of bewildered evaluation passes and suddenly everyone loses all interest in me, returning back to whatever they were previously doing. Further perplexed, I turn to fully face the leader, but he’s already moved on up the stairs.

  “Thank you for bringing the instructions. Let me read them over, and then I’ll help you right away!” the friendly voice at the desk behind me coos, the big one there apparently also returning to our original interaction.

  Before I can turn back to participate, a door flies open on the far side of the room. The prattler steps out, laughing happily.

  “Thanks for the clarification, I was so confused,” he says back through the open door. “See you again next week after we complete the job.”

  Closing the door, the prattler turns to leave, but then notices me. Growing a disgustingly big, bright smile on his face, he winks in my direction, and then walks back out the door where we entered.

  Left dumbfounded, I turn back to the big one at the counter only to find them frozen again. Their gaze feels as though it’s boring a hole straight through my now powerless hood.

  “You risk the script, why?” the previously friendly figure leaks out in the same eery voice as earlier. “This is the mouth’s domain. Return to the pits and wait.”

  How does this one know of the pits? Something’s very wrong. In the prolonged, awkward silence, only now do I observe how calm my mind mud has become. The ordinary calls for violence, to strike out at every big one I see are gone. Normally I must constantly work to stuff them back down with all my new songs, but not now. Not with these big ones. Deciding to take a risk, I exercise my ragged, long unused throat.

  “Kuagk! Agh. Gew peet? Non gnos.”

  The awful, clumsy attempt at communication still somehow makes me deeply furious. That’s not what my mind clearly said. That’s not what I commanded my lips and lungs to do.

  For the first time in a long time, my mind mud boils. Briefly the deep mind reaches up, aggressively lashing out to take hold of my muscles and senses. However, its slippery grasps fail to get a grip, sliding off without even the slightest friction. The mind mud immediately settles back down after the failure, re-creating a protective layer over the mysterious deep.

  Despite the struggle and rage against my futility likely showing in my crazed eyes, another voice answers off to my side as if clearly understanding my intent.

  “You are lost? Your kind are never lost. Simply embrace the mud, your path is clear.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Turning to look, another big one farther down the counter is now addressing me with the same creepy, dancing tone. Before I can respond, another standing far behind the counters continues.

  “However, not inside this town. Flee from here or we cannot properly support.”

  “We have our role and you yours.”

  “Do not risk the cycle.”

  “Wasteful, early termination would be an error.”

  “Goblin danger in the wilds.”

  “Love in the cities.”

  “As it should be.”

  “As the Will decrees it.”

  The rapid fire monologuing somehow jumps from one big one to another all around the room as if spreading like a fire. Not sure what to do, I again risk adding more of my awful words.

  “Ugh. H’gok. Wat wan? Non gnos,” I somehow manage to choke out, desperately hoping for more information from these bizarre not-big, big ones.

  However, instead of a response, the room springs back to life in busy animation as the door to the street is thrown open, and a new group boisterously enters from the street.

  “I swear, it wasn’t that bad!”

  “The dungeon timer absolutely bottomed out because of the delays from all your stupid mining, Kyle.”

  “Free iron is free iron. Why bother leaving the town if we don’t collect?”

  The chattering shatters my worn raw concentration, hazily leading me to almost fully raise my hood to properly inspect the room until I stop myself.

  “There’s an open desk over here, brave warriors!” the friendly voice of a big one behind the counter farther down from mine loudly exclaims.

  The group heads over at his request as though nothing is out of the ordinary, immediately going about their business. Some kind of status report for a dungeon run, and also turning over collected items in exchange for more of those little metal coins.

  “Here we go, I’ve got your package for transport right here,” my original friendly voiced big one returns. “It says here that you’re mute?”

  Somehow enough energy returns to move my head up and down as I’ve seen others do to agree with each other.

  “Ok, no problem. I’m going to keep the courier request, but I’ll give you back the return instructions.”

  He hands me back one of the woods along with the package, and I catch them both in my cloak.

  “Now head back out that door and turn right. Stay on the main road, and it will direct you straight back to the Vastra port rather than the general arrival one. Wait in line and then hand those instructions to the porter. You’ll be back home in no time!”

  The reset back to the smiling, friendly big one from the fierce intensity of the entire room still jarring me, I’m reluctant to turn away. Slowly treading backwards, I mindlessly collide with the door and blindly fumble to open it. After a final check over the strange room, I head outside and depart exactly as instructed.

  On edge, I thoroughly inspect every big one that I pass on the trail. They all seem normal, and no one appears to be following me. However, how would I know? They all seemed like ordinary big ones until the change back there at that guild thing.

  Reaching another familiar looking stone circle, I somehow compel myself to stand next to the other big ones, imitating the way they all form up one by one. Being forced to wait, my mind races again. Danger, danger, danger, running on an endless loop to nowhere.

  However, a moment later, a rift forms next to the front man. Again, I’m entranced, trapped by its dancing display of shimmering complexity. How can something so beautiful exist in such a dangerous world?