Goblin (Old and Unedited)

Chapter Nine; Lineage

"W-wait!" I stuttered. Mom had moved so fast down the hall and around the staircase I swear I was getting whiplash. "Where are going? What're you trying to show me?"

She let go of my hand, standing before the door of the basement. I watched as she reached into her shirt and held out an old-made key, a string of silk laced through its center hole. Mom took the makeshift necklace from around her neck and began to unlock the three bolts on the aged door. She twisted the rusted knob, and pulled. I leaned over and stared down the newly-discovered room, down at the wooden staircase that lacked a rail. Nothing looked safe about that basement at all.

She took hold of my right hand and squeezed before descending down the staircase. The pressure of her heels caused the stairs to moan with every step. My Reboks weren't so heavy in comparison, and caused mere squeaks. I landed at the bottom level two steps behind Mom, and when I looked around it seemed as though there was nothing spectacular to see in the barren basement. The smell was of dust, and cobwebs took refuge in every corner. There had been several boxes scattered upon the floor, all small and seemingly unimportant.

Mom's hand guided me further through the room, and with an audibleclicka warm light filled the empty space. Spaces that were once dark became more visible, and the basement seemed more inviting than before.

Mom had turned right from the staircase and continued further into the basement, where the brown stone wall began to square in. She reached ahead with one hand and pressed her fingers to a very specific block. I watched, seeing as the block further inserted itself within the wall, and the surrounding pieces followed suit, drawing backward. The moving wall had began to unveil the flooring different from this room, and eventually the dusty stone split at the center and divided in half, framing the open entrance to entirely new room. My legs reacted quicker than my mind had, stepping forward ahead of Mom. I hadn't fought my curiosity as she didn't fight to keep hold of my hand. I felt her hand slip from mine as I further investigated the new attachment to our home.

Candle holders had been attached high on the walls, the white sticks of wax burned with a gentle glow and the tiny embers dancing to subtle drafts. I looked straight ahead once further within the room and on the stone wall had been an arrangement of ancient weaponry. There had been a double-sided axe at the center of the wall of offensive arms, alongside a halberd, pole axe, three spears with various blade crafting, a wooden crossbow, and a medieval sword even. Standing on four wooden legs had been a simple looking table, and lain upon it were a set of daggers, pocketed in a brown leather belt holder. I looked over my shoulder, realizing that Mom had posted herself upon the open wall with folded arms and simply watched me.

"Did these, belong to us? Our family?" I asked, placing my hand on the wood table.

She nodded a faint smile on her face. "Mhmmn."

I smiled back, then looked down at the neatly placed daggers, and couldn't help but to admire their sleek blades, and the finery of their black leather handles. Carefully my hand traveled toward the set of weapons, fingers tips barely brushing the handles, smoothing over the tiny stitched design of our family crest. I looked up, realizing that the design had their own special place imprinted on each of the weapons hanged on the wall.

"The daggers were a gift from your grandmother." Mom said to me, and I turned back around to look at her.

She had already been walking over to me, her arms tightly crossed as she observed the daggers beside me. I could see the nostalgia express itself in her eyes as she stared down at her own weapons. It made me think of all the flesh those blades must've seen, and all the fights my mother had been in. Even all the near death experiences with these fights, because I'm sure that with fighting a Gobelin, those are bound to happen to someone.

"Your grandmother wasn't like grandfather, but she accepted him," She said. "Her father was a blacksmith, and she learned how to take care of a sword from him. And so, she managed his weaponry. His sword."

Mom reached to the wall and touched the double-edged sword with a gentle brush of her fingertips. "I recall the nights I saw my mother wait for him, standing by the door, hoping he'd return fully intact. I can imagine how relieved she was when the gift passed down."

"But then it passed down to you."

"Yes. Yes it did. And she gave these to me. These daggers." She lifted them by the belt holder, their weight obviously more than I anticipated they would be. She turned to face me. "Now, I'm giving them to you."

I shifted my body and kept my eyes on the four daggers that weighed heavy in her hands, my lips parted as I tried to prepare some sort of verbal response. These weapons, that caused any sort of flesh to split and bleed, were mine now?

"But . . . I don't even know how to use these things." I stammered.

"You'll learn how, don't worry." Mom assured me, as she always had.

"Oh," I sighed, remembering that I wouldn't be home much come Friday. "Yeah."

Mom quickly placed the belt of daggers on the table surface, and then took my face within her palms, staring me square in the eyes. "Audrey, don't let this get to you so easy. We're all here for you. Every last one of us."

"Even so . . . It's a lot at once. I'm not freaking out or anything, I'm just, reflecting. That's all."

She let go of my face and nodded, smiling at me warmly. "You take as long as you need to reflect. Stay in here as long as you need. And, here."

She reached within her pocket and took out the key that was laced upon a ribbon, putting it over my head and around my neck. "This room will be better use to you now."

I gave her a nod, forcing a small smile. "Thanks, Mom."

"Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning." She gave my forehead a kiss, then made her way back upstairs.

I watched as she walked back up the creaky staircase, and as I heard the door open then shut, I looked back over at the four daggers. These weapons belonged to me now, and in some miraculous was I was going to learn to use them in battle. I dared a touch of one of the blades, and my fingers glided further down and removed the dagger from it's pouch by the hilt. Brandishing the weapon around took a bit of effort; it had a fair amount of weight on it. It was obvious that not just anyone could actually wield and use this weapon properly. And I'm betting that if any amateur did try to do so, they'd probably harm themselves.

The dagger was put back in place with the others, and instead of leaving the belt on the table I took it. I figured since I would go into some sort of training soon these were better off with me instead of being down here. I left the secret room, and when I began to head up the steps the wall took it upon itself to seal shut once again. Before it looked normal, but now that I knew what secret lay behind it, the wall stood out more than anything ever did in our house. I smiled, shook my head, and went along upstairs.