Chapter 3 - Dreams of Rebellion

As the sun went down, the dwarf town got a warm glow. Wyrtt's house was made of mud and straw and was in the middle of the town. This is where his family lived. They were a part of town, just like the ground they walked on. Wyrtt saw his mother, Yralla, taking care of the fire outside when he got close to their front door. With careful work, her hands brought the flames back to life without any trouble. She looked at her son quickly, and her eyes were full of love and joy. This was not at all like how the other people in their group were acting; they were much colder. "Ah, there you are, my little shadow," she smiled. "Sit down by the fire." When your dad gets home soon, we'll have a lot to talk about. Wyrtt gave it some thought and then agreed. He then sat down on the ground next to her. Yralla kept adding coals to the fire, which he watched grow into a big one. The changing light hit her face and made the lines on it stand out. Each one showed the pain she had been through. She had raised her family in the tough Bloody Fangs group her whole life. "Mother," Wyrtt asked her, "have you ever thought about what it would be like to live a different life?" "There's nothing wrong with this one," she replied. She put down what she was doing and looked at her son. At that very moment, Wyrtt saw that they were starting to understand each other. Though they were too shy to say it out loud, he knew that his mother shared his desire for more. "Life is hard, my child, and our people have always had problems," she said gently. "But I believe that there is more to this world than the path we have been forced to walk." Wyrtt agreed, and a sad look came over his face. "I just wish... I wish things could be different." "Maybe they can be," Yralla said with a smile. "But let's stay in the present for now." We need to get ready for dinner because your dad and cousins are coming back soon. The door to their house opened just in time, letting Gartok, Wyrtt's older brother, come in. There were scars and lines all over the goblin fighter's body from many fights. He was very strong. Lirra, Wyrtt's younger sister, was following him. She held her brother's hand and had big eyes that made her look innocent. "Ah, the family is finally together," Yralla said quietly as she looked at her children with eyes that were both proud and worried. Wyrtt looked around at his family. Even though each person was very different, they were all connected by family and tradition. The fact that they were having problems didn't change how he felt about being with them, even though his heart wanted more. His mother put her arms around him and soothed him. This gave him the strength to dream of a better life. The town of goblins was covered in a dark, scary shade as the sun went down behind the mountains. Wyrtt stood in the small room and looked at the full table made of rough wood. He couldn't stop wondering what was going on outside of their small lives. "Father will be home soon," Lirra said in a nervous whisper as she picked at the frayed edge of her shirt. "He won't be happy if we're not ready." "Then we better make sure we are," Gartok said, quickly scanning the room for signs of trouble. While he waited for his dad to come home, Wyrtt clenched his hands together, trying to hold back the strong emotions that were running through him. Varnok walked in as soon as the door creaked open. He was a huge man who wore armor with scars from war. The air got tighter as he looked at his family, and his eyes narrowed as they hit Wyrtt. "Still daydreaming, boy?" Varnok barked, and his voice was as rough as the rocks that stood in front of their town. "You should be preparing for tomorrow's hunt, not wasting time with your head in the clouds." "Father, I-" Wyrtt tried to talk, but his dad waved him away. He snarled, "Enough," and sat down at the head of the table. "Let us eat." As the family fell into a nervous silence, the only sound that broke it was the sound of chewing and swallowing. Wyrtt couldn't help but think about other things. It had always been strange to him why his father was so committed to the violent ways of the group while he himself had grown to dislike them. The gap between them felt like it couldn't be crossed without making things worse between them. "Father, I've been thinking," Wyrtt said in a voice that was almost whispering. "What if life isn't just fighting and hunting?" "What if there was another way?" "Another way?" Varnok laughed and hit the table hard with his fist, which made the dishes shake. His eyes were angry red. "Hey, that's the only way to do it! The Bloody Fangs have been around for a long time because they are strong and mean. "You make fun of their memory by being so stupid." Wyrtt clenched his teeth and really tried not to cry. His heart was beating very fast. Though he couldn't get rid of the thought that there was something else out there for him to find, He was sure his dad would never get it. Wyrtt said in a low voice, "Strength can also come from within, Father." He felt better when he smiled at his mom. "Enough!" Varnok barked and stuck Wyrtt in the chest with his finger. He was a lot bigger than Wyrtt. "Either you learn our rules and follow them, or you deserve what comes after." "Now shut up and eat." When the food came out again, Wyrtt looked at his plate and felt a lot of different things. The people in his family didn't understand how badly he wanted a different life. He felt stuck in a life that broke his heart. Wyrtt promised himself in his own quiet way that he would find a way to live his life the way he believed in, even if it meant giving up everything he had ever known. The mountains were in the background. Wyrtt was amazed and proud as he watched his older brother, Draknar, sharpen the bone knife they shared. The flickering fire moved across his rough face and cast shadows on the hut walls where they lived with their family. When Wyrtt thought about what would happen if he kept going this way, his heart sank. "Do you ever think about what life might be like outside of our tribe?" Wyrt asked Draken. When Draknar stopped, his dark eyes narrowed when they met Wyrtt's. "Why do you care?" This is where we live and who we are. We were born to have bloodthirsty teeth, and that's how we'll die. "But don't you ever wonder if there's more to life than just fighting and killing?" Wyrtt pushed and tried not to raise his voice. "Do you really believe this is the only way we can live?" "Enough!" He barked and hit the wooden table with his hand. "You talk like you're embarrassed by who we are!" You're going to question the fact that our tribe has been strong and smart enough to stay alive. What kind of goblin are you?" "I just want to know if there's something else out there, something better for us." When Wyrtt was really mad, he spoke quickly. "I can't help but feel like there has to be more to life than this." He spat, "Then you're a fool," and his lip curled in disgust. "Your dreams and weaknesses will destroy you." "You disrespect our elders by being so stupid!" Wyrtt was very angry when he clenched his hands. Is it possible that I'm not hurting them? They might have been the ones who were lied to and are now idly going down a path of murder and cruelty. "Watch your tongue, little brother." He pointed his knife at Wyrtt and spoke in a low, scary voice. "You are treading on dangerous ground." Wyrtt looked at his brother with a stubborn look in his eyes, and his heart was beating fast. He felt like he couldn't hold back any longer because he wanted a better life so much. He had to say something. "Maybe it's time for someone to question our ways," Wyrtt said, his voice shaky but strong. "It's okay if that makes me a bad guy or a fool." These chains are not going to be a part of my life. He charged Wyrtt with a knife raised, and his face turned red with rage. But before he could strike, their mother stepped in and powerfully pushed Draknar back. "Enough!" she yelled, and tears came to her eyes. "This isn't the way." "You are both my sons, and I won't let you fight." "Mother, how can you defend him?" Draknar sawthed and tried again to get away from her. "He is a disgrace to our family!" As she looked from boy to boy, she begged, "Let him say what he thinks." "There is no harm in asking for a better way." He growled, "Father would never let this happen." He finally gave up, pushed them both aside, and stormed out of the hut. Wyrtt felt the heavy weight of being alone fall on him as the door slammed behind him. His family was very angry with him because he dared to question what they thought. It seemed like they would never be able to get along again. Even though he was in a lot of pain and fear, he had a small amount of hope that he could still find the life he so badly wanted. When there was a soft knock on the door, there was still a lot of stress in the hut. When Wyrtt thought about another fight, his chest got tight. When the door creaked open, his younger sister, Lylla, walked in. She looked around between her mother and two boys with wide eyes. She asked with worry, "Is everything okay?" as she pulled at the torn ends of her shirt. "I heard shouting." "Everything is fine, little one," their mom said softly as she looked at Wyrtt. "Just a disagreement, that's all." She thought for a moment, then walked across the room to stand next to Wyrtt. He felt a little better being with her because he knew she was having the same worries about how violent they were. She was close to their father, though, and Wyrtt could tell she was having a rough time inside. "Draknar is wrong, you know," she said in a low voice that was hard to hear. "There has to be more to life than just bloodshed and conquest." Wyrtt could tell how his sister felt by the look in her eyes. While he tried to shield her from the harsh truths of their world, he couldn't hide the fact that he was eager to leave it all behind. He could go, but would that mean he was leaving her? "Thank you, Lylla," he said in a low voice under her shoulder. "But I don't want you to pick me over our family." "That's not fair to you." "Maybe... maybe there's a middle ground," she said, and her eyes begged you to understand. "A way we can change things from within the tritribe instead of leaving it behind." Wyrtt thought about what she said, and many ideas came to him quickly. Could they stay true to their roots and make peace with their people at the same time? He considered going that way, but he knew it was risky. "Perhaps," he said, but he wasn't sure. But it won't be simple. A lot of people will try to stop change and hurt us. "Then let them try," she told them, her eyes shining with intent. "We're stronger than they think." Wyrtt felt sad when he saw how determined his sister was. He was both proud of how brave she was and afraid for her safety. It was in his heart to believe that they could make things better, but he missed the freedom of not having to follow the rules of their group. "Promise me you'll be careful, Lylla," he said as he tightened his hold on her shoulder. "I can't bear the thought of losing you." "I promise," she said quietly, looking serious. "And I'll always stand by you, Wyrtt, no matter what path you choose." Wyrtt felt the weight of his choice fall on him as those words played over and over in his head. He knew that the road ahead would be hard and painful, no matter what he did. But he couldn't help but feel hopeful when he looked into his sister's brave eyes. The people there had hope that they could find a way to connect their ideals with the harsh truth of their situation.