Summoned A Hundred Years Too Late

Alexandra opened her eyes right before 6:00 a.m. At least, she wagered it was about that time. She didn’t know if it was all of Laika, or just Lanterne, but her hosts didn’t have a clock.

Somehow, her back hurt even more than yesterday. “Too used to modern comfort,” she grumbled as she pushed herself up from the straw pallet. Lara and Therion were already up. She could hear them busying themselves in the main room.

It felt strange to wake here. No, scratch that. What felt strange was that her mind was perfectly clear. There was only one thing occupying her thoughts: her next quest.

Two minutes passed as she stood up, stretched, and chased the morning haze away.

She summoned her journal.

Perhaps years of following the exact same routine had conditioned her for this moment, but she was just in time. On the first page, new words were etching themselves on the paper, her previous daily quest already erased.

Quest Journal

Daily Reset: 06:00 | Streak: 1 Days | 0% All Stats

Next Milestone: 10 Days

Daily Quests:

Slay a goblin (0/1)“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. That would be a lot harder than picking flowers. Yet, at no point did the thought of giving up cross her mind. She would do it.

It was just a goblin. Not a dragon. The weakest creature in fantasy, allegedly.

Shaking her head, she pushed the door to the main room open, and was greeted by her hosts. Lara was sitting at the table, sharpening a small sickle, while her husband tended to the fire, feeding it wood to revive it.

Lara smiled when she saw her. “Alexandra, I hope we didn’t wake you up.”

Alexandra shook her head. “I’m an early riser. Don’t worry about that.”

Following Lara’s gesture, she sat down in front of her.

“I’ll get you something to eat in a minute.”

Alexandra thanked her, but insisted that they didn’t need to bother with her. Lara had a task to accomplish, and she didn’t want to interrupt.

“Nonsense,” Lara chastised her. “A guest’s a guest. This sickle isn’t going anywhere.”

Breakfast was the same as last night’s dinner, along with a few slices of bread. Nothing fancy, but it was nutritious enough.

Lara returned to her sharpening. “Tell me, did you receive your daily quest?”

Alexandra nodded. “I wanted to ask your advice about it. Are there goblins around here?”

Her host paused, and even Therion looked at her from beside the fire.

“Goblins?” he asked. “Why would you need a goblin?”

Alexandra shrugged. “I’m not the one writing the quests. It says I have to slay one.”

Therion scanned her with his gaze, her slippers, her earth clothes filled with holes and grime from yesterday’s adventure.

“I know how I look. But I have to try.”

Therion snorted. “You don’t have shoes, let alone a weapon.”

Lara sighed. “Speaking of which, I should lend you a pair.”

“Of shoes?” Alexandra asked.

“Well, I can give you a sickle, too.”

“Lara!” Therion protested.

Alexandra nodded. “Please.”

“I’ll need to sharpen the spine.”

“You’re not seriously entertaining her?”

Lara rolled her eyes. “Therion, look at her. She’ll hunt barehanded if she has to.”

Alexandra choked on her spoonful of soup as she heard that.

“Don’t give me that,” Lara said. “You know I’m telling the truth.”

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“But…” A stern look from Lara was enough to stop her protests. “Sorry, you’re right.” She would absolutely try barehanded if it came to that. Could they blame her? Well, they didn’t know about her streak.

Therion stood up, leaving the fire to sit with them. “Fine. That’s a terrible idea, but fine. A sickle isn’t really a weapon, though.”

Lara agreed. But that’s all they had to offer. “Still better than a kitchen knife.”

“Or my hands.” Alexandra joked, though it didn’t land as well as she expected.

She finished her breakfast, the silence only interrupted by the regular grinding of the sickle on the sharpening stone. It took a while to get the spine to a usable state. As farmers, Lara and Therion only used the belly to harvest their Aetherveils.

When she was done, Lara disappeared into the back room while Therion tested the sickle’s edge with his thumb. She returned with an armful of clothing and set it down on the table without ceremony.

”Put these on.”

“But—”

Lara glared at her. “No buts. We don’t know where you came from, but you can’t walk around Lanterne with those weird clothes you’re wearing.”

It didn’t take more to convince Alexandra. Her friend was right, she couldn’t be seen in earth clothing. What if someone more knowledgeable identified her as a summoned. It wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Maybe they’d treat her well. Maybe not. It wasn’t worth the candle.

The shirt and pants were linen, loose at the shoulders. Over it went a leather vest, stiff with age, that Lara buckled from behind without being asked. She adjusted the belt herself, tightening it until the vest sat properly. Nothing fit exactly right, but it all held together.

Therion handed her the sickle. She strapped it to her belt. Lara presented her the shoes, one size too large. It would have to do.

“Do you even know how to fight?” Therion asked as he and his wife led her outside. As he noticed her sheepish expression, he added, “Forget I asked. Be careful.”

“Goblins never stray far from their burrows,” Lara added. “Too dangerous for them.”

The plains stretched wide on all sides of Lanterne. Flowers of myriad colors shimmered under the rising sun, painting the land in a pastel hue. It was quiet. Too early for the buzzing cacophony of insects, too exposed for birds to sing to their heart’s content. Alexandra walked in the direction Therion had pointed her toward, looking for her prey.

In the plains, goblins lived in burrows. She’d expected a cave, or a rudimentary camp so it came as a surprise. They’d warned her that the greens could be hard to spot as they were too small to peek over the growth.

A good thing, in a way. Smaller meant less dangerous.

Thinking, she had decided, was not going to help her today. Specifically, she was not going to think about the word humanoid. She was not going to think about the fact that goblins had hands, presumably, and faces. She wasn’t going to remind herself that she’d never killed anything, let alone a perso— No, that was a box she was going to leave closed, nailed shut, and dropped into a river.

She was going to dream about her streak instead.

Sure, it was only a streak of one. But today, it would become two, then three tomorrow, and four, five and so on. The number would only go up, never down. Unless, of course, she failed a quest. She wouldn’t let it happen. Not because of some misplaced ethical concerns—

Stop. The box was sealed, buried, drowned.

The field was beautiful. Pink-edged flowers catching the early light, stems swaying under the gentle wind. It was just warm enough to be comfortable. She could lie down in the sun, take a rest, a well deserved nap.

The weight of the sickle strapped to the belt Lara had gifted her, along with shoes and more appropriate clothes reminded her why she was out there.

She kept walking.

Therion had been vague on his instructions. Deliberately, she suspected. The man probably hoped she would give up her foolish attempt. With each of her steps, she grew more understanding of his stance.

She stumbled. Too busy looking into the distance, she hadn’t paid enough attention to the ground in front of her. She caught herself, straightened her posture, and looked at the source of her misery.

A bone.

Alexandra wasn’t going to pretend she recognized the creature it belonged to, but in her head a clear picture had already formed. Small, green, pointy ears, sharp teeth, wide smile: this was the bone of a goblin.

She swallowed, feeling her saliva crawl down the walls of her throat, then whispered. “I’m not ready.”

She’d never wielded a weapon. The sickle barely counted as one, and she was no farmer either. Not even a gardener. The bulk of her physical activity was carrying pizza boxes and typing on her keyboard. Goblins, on the other hand…

The fear was there, as always, harder to push away than ethics.

One goblin, she told herself. Find the smallest one. Slice it before it sees you. Don’t think about it too hard.

She slowed when she saw the first burrow entrance up close. Dark and low, packed earth around the rim, wide enough for a toddler to move through. It had sprung up on her out of nowhere.

Not going in there.

She would have to crouch. It wasn’t a good idea, anyway. Alexandra wasn’t a fighter, but she knew better than to give her opponent the home advantage.

She took a step back, and scanned the vegetation ahead.

Nothing.

Then the grass to her left moved, and there it was.

A goblin. Roughly the height of her waist, green-green skin pulling tight over a wiry frame, dressed in rags. It was crouched over something in the dirt, focused, apparently indifferent to her existence. Its ears were large and mobile, rotating slightly as it worked. Its hands moved with care and patience as it was shifting through the earth. Was it looking for something?

She put that thought back in the box.

Smallest one, she reminded herself. This is a small one. It was. Objectively. She was bigger than it, probably, and certainly taller, and it hadn’t noticed her yet, which meant she had the advantage of surprise. If she was going to do this, she should do it now, before her brain caught up with the rest of her and lodged a formal complaint.

She shifted her weight, reaching for the sickle.

The goblin turned its head, looked directly at her, and screamed.

Not a scream of fear, a short, sharp sound closer to a whistle. An alarm.

Answered, immediately by two of its kind from somewhere behind the burrow.

Alexandra stood very still for a second.

She’d forgotten something about goblins. Of course. Of course there were more.