Goblin Kid

The First Saga of Goblin Kid

Kid had no memory of the world above—only whispers of it, carried on the cold drafts that slithered through the tunnels of the Underworld. He was small, even for a goblin, with eyes too wide and curious for a place where curiosity often got you eaten. The other goblins called him Kid because he never stopped asking questions, and because he still believed there was more to life than scavenging fungus and avoiding the teeth of bigger things.

The Underworld was a labyrinth of black stone and glowing moss, where rivers of molten rock hissed like angry serpents and the air tasted of iron. Kid had grown up in the shadow of the Great Maw—a cavern so deep that even the bravest goblins dared not peer over its edge. But Kid had heard the stories: that somewhere beyond the Maw, there was a way up. A way to the surface. A way to more life.

One night, while the rest of his clan slept in the hollowed-out ribcage of a long-dead beast, Kid slipped away. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. He carried only a chipped dagger, a pouch of dried cave beetles, and a shard of mirror he’d found in the ruins of an ancient hall. He didn’t know why he kept it—only that when he looked into it, he felt like he was meant for something else.

The journey was brutal. He crossed bridges of bone that creaked under his weight, waded through rivers of black water that whispered his name, and hid from the shadow-beasts that prowled the deeper tunnels. Days—or maybe weeks—passed. Time in the Underworld was a shapeless thing.

Finally, Kid reached the edge of the Great Maw. The abyss yawned before him, swallowing the glow of the moss and the sound of his breath. Somewhere far below, something moved—slow, massive, and ancient. He felt its gaze, though it had no eyes.

“Why do you seek more life, little goblin?” a voice rumbled from the dark.

Kid’s knees shook, but he gripped the shard of mirror tight. “Because this can’t be all there is. I want to see the sky.”

The voice chuckled, a sound like stone grinding against stone. “Then you must give something in return.”

Kid hesitated. He had nothing but his dagger, his beetles, and the mirror. Slowly, he held out the shard.

The darkness swallowed it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, from the depths, a faint light began to rise—blue and cold, like moonlight on water. It wrapped around Kid, lifting him from the edge.

But instead of carrying him upward, it pulled him down.

He screamed, but the light was gentle, almost comforting. The voice spoke again, softer now: “To find more life, you must first walk through death.”

When Kid opened his eyes, he was somewhere deeper than he had ever been. The air shimmered with strange energy, and in the distance, he saw a city of black crystal, pulsing like a heartbeat.

The Underworld had not let him go. It had given him a new path.

And Kid, though afraid, smiled. His saga had only just begun.