Morning in the Forgotten Forest always had that eerie peace. Birds chirped, light danced through the trees, and Caelen was outside scratching his head.
"I need real food. I can't survive on berries forever. My poop is turning purple."
His trusty Google Brain lit up.
Search (1/20): 'How to get seeds in the wild?'
[Look for dried plants, tall grass, and wild grain patches. Some birds carry seeds in their droppings.]
He didn't love that last part, but hey, survival wasn't glamorous. With a sack slung over his shoulder, Caelen started gathering. After two hours, he had exactly three seeds, a beetle (accidental), and a stubbed toe.
Grumbling, he went back to chopping wood near his furnace. Firewood stock was low again. But as he raised his axe—
Snap.
Caelen froze. Not the kind of snap branches made. This one had intention.
Then came the voice.
"Help! Somebody, please!"
He dropped his axe and bolted toward the sound.
Just past the trees, a girl—teenage, messy black hair, cloak torn—was limping away from a goblin. She stumbled near a log as the creature hissed and closed in.
Caelen didn't hesitate. Pickaxe out.
"Hey, ugly!"
He chucked a rock. Missed. Again.
The goblin turned toward him. Caelen swung his pickaxe hard. It connected with a thwack, and the goblin crumpled.
"Gotcha," he muttered, grinning—until searing pain struck his foot.
An arrow.
"OH COME ON!"
He collapsed backward, clutching his foot.
Search (2/20): 'How to treat an arrow wound?'
[Do not yank. Clean, wrap, elevate. Magic potions help.]
The girl rushed over. "You okay?!"
"Yeah, just your average Tuesday—arrow in foot."
She quickly pulled a tiny bottle from her pouch and handed it to him.
"Healing potion. Drink it. It's not poison, I promise."
It tasted like minty swamp juice, but almost instantly, the pain dulled.
"Thanks," Caelen muttered. "You're lucky I was nearby. Goblins don't play nice."
She gave a crooked smile.
"About that..."
She shimmered.
The girl vanished, replaced by a small goblin with wide eyes and a sheepish look. Same cloak.
Caelen stared.
"...Huh. That explains the potion."
"And the illusion. My name's Zari. I was running from a rival tribe. They're not... nice."
He blinked slowly. "So, you're a goblin. Pretending to be human. In goblin territory."
"Yep."
"Cool, cool. This forest keeps getting weirder."
Back at the cabin, Zari sat near the fire while Caelen re-bandaged his foot.
"So you live here alone?" she asked.
"Yeah. Built everything myself. Even made a toilet."
Her eyes narrowed. "A what?"
"A toilet. You know, for... uh... bathroom stuff. Flushes the waste away. Super clean."
Zari looked genuinely disturbed. "You made a device... just for pooping?"
"Yeah! It's called civilization."
She looked impressed and confused. "We usually just dig a hole or go behind a rock. You humans are really... creative."
He gave her a quick tour. Workbench, furnace, storage chest, and of course—the throne.
Zari stared at the bathroom like it was a holy shrine.
"It flushes? Where does the poop go?!"
"Down pipes, to a filtered chamber. I invented that too."
"You're like a one-man wizard village."
That night, Caelen lay on his grass-stuffed bed, foot raised slightly, Sparkfin the bird snuggled above, and Zari snoring gently near the fireplace.
He hadn't farmed. Or built anything groundbreaking.
But he had a new... roommate?
Search (3/20): 'Can goblins be trusted?'
[Depends. But like humans, some are good. Especially if they share healing potions.]
Caelen smirked.
Tomorrow, he'd farm.
Maybe.
Unless something else exploded first.