Casimir hears no noises that night and wakes refreshed the next morning as he jumps out of the tent. The light is already penetrating through the fluttering trees, but the air is not yet warm, for the tip of his nose is icy and the leaves are covered by clear dew. He quickly finishes a simple breakfast on the grass near the edge of the clearing and gets ready to say farewell to this campsite. His horse is almost frisky, sniffing fragrant grass in the fresh wind from Northwest. He rides off along a path that winds its way across the woods and slants down towards the north end. Suddenly he comes out of the thick forest again at the foot of the hill. There he looks out over lands under the pale morning of which the sun is blocked by the clouds and a thin sheet of white mist. The road ridge vanishes out of sight into remote glimmer blending with the hem of the sky, ahead which there are green feet of more steep hills into another deeper and broader valley. It is a country of grass and springy turf on a cloudy day, and the distances seem now all hazy and deceptive. He progresses carefully, until he can see an opening between two steep shoulders and the hills become flatter and flatter as if receding into the land, and a long dark line of trees can be perceived. Yet the landscape becomes rockier, for there are cold standing stones, pointing upwards like jagged teeth. The weather makes him slow and bored after several timeless hours, so he decides to have lunch early. He leans his back against the side of one stone and attempts to warm it with his body heat. There he takes food and drink as good as a fine afternoon snack while the unburdened small horse strays upon the grass. He then springs to his feet and rides steadily again. The mist grows into a fog, thick, cold, and white. The wind starts to blow again, and the air is silent, heavy, and chilly. Casimir can feel the extreme dampness following a gale, but he has to head down into a foggy sea, and it is not long till his hair hangs lank, dripping on his forehead. When he has galloped for two more furlongs it is so chilly that he halts and puts on his cloak and hood, which soon become bedewed with grey drops. Sometimes the mist flows past him in shreds and tatters as the wind hisses over the ground. Casimir urgently takes more strokes along the road, hoping to leave the blanket of fog sooner. Another two hours pass, and the wild fog becomes sparser and sparser, and finally he can see the path clearly again, but the small drops of water become downpour and he has to squint on the horseback.

The land rises up gently and Casimir approaches the edge of some woods spreading southwest and northeast. He does not wish to linger any longer in the woods, but he does go into the thick trees for several feet so that he can shake heavy water off his soaked cloak. When he has done this, he wishes to go on at once, but at that moment he hears some distinguished sound despite the noisy trickling of water---footsteps and wheels crushing earth. He presses himself on the half-dry forest ground and listens, and this time he can even hear some whispering. Casimir gives a shudder, but quickly runs to the left and hides behind a small enclosure of short standing rocks and thick trees. Snow Hoof quietly stays beside him, and Casimir presses his hand on horseback to let it get down too. There he and Snow Hoof all stay quiet. He grows curious, for he wonders what kind of folks might travel in this place in such gloomy weather, or perhaps it is just an illusion. He crouches his body, bending toward the tree and peers cautiously through a thick crotch.

From the road on the left several heads come into sight, and then Casimir discovers that it is a company, neither too big nor too small in size. On the first tall horse sits a short man crouching on the saddle clad in black, whose face is unseen under the deep hood, carrying a brown sack. His right hand holds a black dog, and the left hand grips the leash tightly. Following him comes a group of stunted walkers, all holding spears made of wood and covered from face to feet with rectangular iron masks, armors and boots. Strangely, these small iron creatures are not the same as fearful soldiers, rather they look a little clumsy, for they waddle in their walk and their eyes roll in peepholes. Their iron shoes step into soft mud on the forest floor, leaving small round footprints behind. The creatures come close to Casimir’s hiding place, and he is totally still to listen and watch as a bad feeling comes over him. He has not seen those people ever before. The dog held by the first rider reaches the tree and stones and is level with Casimir, and it slows down suddenly as if sniffing to catch an elusive scent and turns its head from side to side of the road. The rider also slows down his pace and Casimir hardly dares to breathe. Though after half a minute of extreme nervousness the company slowly goes on and pays no further attention to him as the horse steps forward and then breaks into a quick trot and dwindles into the distance. ‘Maybe they just have that dog to detect dangers for themselves and do not wish to hunt anyone.’ Finally all the iron creatures leave him behind and the wet woods become quiet again, except the sound of water falling from leaves into the dirt. Casimir crawls out to the edge of the path and waits for several minutes till he starts off again.

He is soon on the rainy plain of wild Phoenixford and it takes him a while to recall the journey and realize that the sky is getting dark. ‘The weather has procrastinated my journey’, he thinks, looking through the endless bleak rain, ‘I should be there in no more than two hours, but look at the road! Anyway, I must arrive and sleep there tonight, otherwise I could be soaked in a night of dampness!’ In a hurry he whips the riding crop and gallops forward as fast as he can in the rain and forgets the time in traveling. The light fades away completely after the regular supper time, though Casimir has no intention to eat or take rest before he reaches the destination.

In the dark following the slanting road, he comes to a small field half covered with tamed woodland lying against the mountain stretching east and west from the north side. Arriving at a familiar land, he jumps down from the horse and fetches a lantern from his bag and looks over the road. He leads the horse and walks quickly down the narrow path across the sparse trees and stops in front of a wide solid gate. There he taps the knocker and shouts: “Mom! Uncle Trevor! Ezra! Elie! It’s me, Casimir!” Ezra and Elie are two brothers who are now about eighteen and sixteen, respectively, and they are Trevor’s adopted sons who have lost their parents fifteen years ago in Atol’s hunting for North Kingdom kins who might seek revenge, from which Casimir’s father also died. They now live with his mother and uncle and can help look after the big farmlands. With a creak of the gate a man with a short beard clad in a dark blue cloak comes out with a lantern in his hand. “Oh my! Casimir! It’s you!” he shouts. “Glad to see you again, uncle!” “Come in! Your mom is taking a bath and she will finish in a moment.”

Casimir follows him into the big garden and Trevor locks the gate behind him and murmurs: “Strange folks are appearing in this land. Better to lock the door securely… Have you eaten, Caz?” “Not yet, uncle.” They advance into a large brick house like that of Casimir’s and hang their cloaks on the shelf at the door. The interior is warm yellow and the floors are wooden, with a large rectangular table and a circle of sofa in the dining hall on the left hand. Casimir sits down while Uncle Trevor gives him a full plate of food and a large cup of milk. Hungry as he is, Casimir quickly shoves a spoonful of dinner into his mouth. “Fresh vegetables picked yesterday,” uncle chuckles proudly, “Have more!” Meanwhile two more youths come down the stairs. “Cousin Casimir! What brings you here in the middle of the night?!” says the taller one. “Ezra and Elie! Long time no see, huh? Come on, it’s not that late. I come here for important matters…But now let’s wait and discuss together when my mom is here!” So they start to laugh and talk about other more lighthearted topics.

When Casimir is almost finished with his supper, a middle-aged woman with the same fiery eyes as Casimir, wearing a long grey tulle robe comes down from the second floor. Her body still smells of perfume and her long hair is shiny and wet. “Mom!” Casimir jumps up and the two wrap each other into a long embrace. “Oh Caz, I should have known you were here… on this rainy night?! I assume uncle has fed you well? ” she says this with a soft chuckle. “Of course, Trella!” Trevor cannot help laughing.

But Casimir turns serious suddenly: “Mom, I come here for a very urgent affair that could affect the fate of the whole continent…” Trying hard to suppress his excitement, he tells the whole thing, from the Arenders’ invitation to the information of North Kingdom, to the other four. Then he speaks: “I shall not sit here and do nothing, Mom and Uncle, and plus Lennox said this will not be too dangerous, just an exploration and preparation for wars… Tomorrow or the day after it, I must go. I did not bring much luggage with me, so you can give me more supplies perhaps.” Trella, who seems overwhelmed by all the information, pauses for a moment, and speaks: “If Atol is truly planning his further aggression, you’re right, you should go as long as the Arenders take care of you well. But you must be careful, Caz, for Atol’s power is strong and the elves could not totally defeat him even if they could limit him. He has done too much ravage to us, to the ones who fled from North Kingdom to Leorilien. Ezra and Elie’s parents were killed, and your father also died at the hand of his native orcs from Mouth of Melgols led by that traitor human Tristan. As for that symbol, I too have no idea so far. Yet pay attention to three lands if you go: Realm of North Kingdom, Mouth of Melgols, and Melgols. Atol’s base must be in one of these three or further north. I bet you can find something.”

“Tristan…I should have known that…is he still serving Atol?”

“Nothing for sure. But I believe he is the stronghold guarding Mouth of Melgols. What a villain! He was the general of North Kingdom, according to your grandmother Geonna, but he turned to Atol driven by his craving for domination and helped hunted down so many innocent ones…”

An impetuous anger regarding this felonious crime rises inside Casimir’s body, but he takes a deep breath to suppress it and continues the discussion barely with patience: “I see…by the way, have you ever seen strange iron creatures in these areas? I met a group of them this morning, in the forest on the way. They are led by a short man clad in black riding a horse, but I hid well.” He scowls.

Trevor frowns too: “Iron creatures…Nope. At least I haven’t seen them clearly. But strange folks are indeed appearing in this land…as I told you when I locked the gate…They usually come out at night---numbers not clear, but also small creatures--- prowling and making strange noises in the trees outside our place, but fortunately they did not intrude upon us. At first, I thought they’re just wild inhabitants who migrated to this land, goblins perhaps. But since you have also met small, strange folks yourself in a rainy and unpeopled nearby forest…well…we shall see what will happen.”

“Goblins?! That’s Atol’s favorite soldiers! Is that even possible?”

“Don’t be so afraid, Caz. But bad things never come singly,” Trevor takes out his pipe, “I think you’ll be alright with these Arenders with the help of Eorl. They are all righteous elves who have shielded our family and kins throughout those years from outside dangers. Luckily our family story is only known among them. Tell them to no others, however.”

Trella nods: “True, Trevor. Caz, you’re already twenty, and I’m not worried about your basic living skills anymore since you have lived alone in the center of Phoenixford for four years and studied there. If the Arenders are inviting you, I think you should take this opportunity. Some kind of payback for covering for us all these years; it will not be grateful of us if you don’t go. Personally, I’m also an adventurous person, and I wish you could be brave… Alas! Don’t fear nevertheless, send letters to me if you need any help. Oh yes! Bring the eagle Silverfax with you. Remember it? He’s now ten and can fly as fast as the wind and identify his master’s scent in a heartbeat. He has been trained by me myself and knows the way home wherever he is and will follow you. Fine species from the South. And perhaps you will play a crucial part in their task. Do be careful however.”

“Yes, Mom. Then as soon as I have taken enough rest I will set out and meet with Lennox’s team.”

            The rain outside the window has stopped. The five people stand up, and Elie suggests taking a walk in the back garden with Casimir. So, they leave the house, and Casimir’s mother also follows. Ezra goes on to read a book and Trevor begins to clean the plates. A fresh wind scented with grass is already blowing outside the house, and they feel rather cool and comfortable and head out to the far farmlands. They walk west across the cornfield and come to an orange grove at the edge outside the fence. Chatting excitedly and paying no further attention to the road, they by the way approach the trees and wander through them, and soon reach a pile of mountain rocks that stand against a small glade behind it----a sign that they have arrived in the center of the grove. The branches are swaying in the dark and no stars could be seen. “Oops. We have come too far into the grove. Let’s better return now, especially during night,” Casimir murmurs to the other two. Elie lights a lantern and holds it in his left hand: “Feel safe to walk, Casimir; the path is flatly paved, and we won’t accidentally step on anything----” In that moment there comes an almost imperceptible sound of rustling on the other side of the glade. Yet Casimir with his sensible ears stops: “Did you hear that?” Trella puts her right hand on Casimir’s shoulder and slows down too: “Kind of…Right. Strange creatures are coming out at night as you have heard from Trevor. Before we figure out who they are, boys, let’s just go back and visit the side beyond the glade tomorrow morning. I too haven’t come here for over two months.”

            Yet the rustling sound appears again, and this time much louder, even accompanied by constant clattering and distinct squeaking. Trella turns pale with fright: “That could be the clattering sound of these strange folks! I think I’ve heard that several times before, but not here and fainter in further woodlands! Go back now! We don’t have any weapons with us!”

            “But why mom! I’ve heard enough rumors and we could figure it out right here! It could just be an animal!” Casimir mutters.

            “Well then…Elie, you keep the lantern and go straight to your father. Tell him to come and bring a bow and arrows or swords!” Trella commands. Elie runs back along the path in a rush, and the son and mother squat behind the pile of rocks, hearing the endless noise growing bigger…

            After a long while the two men have returned in aid of Casimir and Trella. “Shh. Here sis, hold a sword,” Trevor whispers to Trella, “You know what? Maybe Casimir and I can sneak into the woods over the glade and see what’s in here. You and Elie stay here and help us if we need. I have expelled strange creatures before and protected our gate, and plus these might just be some badgers who want to steal fruits. Wait till we catch these animals.” “Yes. Uncle. Time to warm up by hunting.” “Alright. No time for arguing now. Be careful and watch out!” Trella warns as a sound of fighting exists there.

            So, Trevor, holding a long dagger and carrying a big thick net with heavy pegs on the four corners, and Casimir, who also takes out his sharp hatchet from the leather case on the belt, quietly approach the wood where the noise comes from. Watch their surroundings carefully, they follow the track of the sound. Soon they discover something as the trees become sparser around them. Among two thick boles are two short black figures who curl and roll together on the ground, making fierce roars toward each other. By the faint moonlight, Casimir can distinguish that the figures are about the same stature as the iron creatures he saw in the afternoon, but they’re not wearing distinct armors since no metals are reflecting moonlight as perceived by eyes. But he finds out from their sharp hissing and bellows that they’re not humans or elves, at least not the kind he knows. Trevor crawls to him and whispers: “Caz, let’s catch those with the net. We’ll sneak secretly behind them and throw the net to cover while they’re fighting between themselves and not paying attention to the surrounding. Make the pegs stick thoroughly into the ground! There’s only one chance.”

            They approach the trees slowly, Trevor in front of Casimir, holding the iron pegs. Trevor, holding his breath, first sticks the left-front peg deeply into the stump not far from the two fighting creatures in the dark, and picks up the right-front peg and walk to the other side of the figures, and luckily the net is big enough for stretching long distances. Then suddenly he gives a swoop down toward them from the back and pushes the peg down with his best effort. Casimir quickly drives the back pegs into the mud, but the two creatures start to struggle and scream so violently that even the net cannot hold them for long. “Mom!! Elie!! Come! Come!” One of the creatures opens his mouth and shows its long sharp teeth that give a flash under the moonlight, which is growing brighter and brighter as the clouds disperse; his bloodshot eyes are wide open. “Goblin!” Casimir screams in fright and falls with an uncontrolled heavy blow of the hatchet. With another cry the blood spills out onto Casimir’s face.

            “Caz? Caz! Trevor! Are you okay?!” Trella speeds into the wood holding her sword, Elie following. “Trella! Help us subdue this monster!” In a chaos the four work together to bond the living goblin tight to the ground with the help of the dagger, the sword, and the hatchet. Finally, all is set down again. “Where do you come from? Speak, Goblin! Or you will die with another blow!” Trella hisses in rage. But he has already lost too much blood in the battle, and with another struggle the small creature takes his last breath. The grove is quiet again and the four haven’t recovered from what has happened.

            Elie moves his lantern close to the dead goblins’ bodies: “So these are of the alleged goblin kinds who have murdered Cousin Casimir’s father?”

            “Yes. Nasty murderers who have served Atol and hunted down our last kins.”

            “I was too scared and killed one with my hatchet. I saw goblins when I was five. They were terrible monsters, although the ones I saw fifteen years ago are much bolder.”

            “They might not be Atol’s servants, Trella, and Caz. They could be the strange folks that are bothering us for months.”

            “But dad, goblins should not appear in this south land. Good or not, they’re indeed nasty ones from the north. In this case Casimir’s journey is more necessary.”

            “Yes. This latent threat and the strange folks drive me on,” says Casimir, “and now I won’t hesitate.”

            “What shall we do with their bodies?”

            “How about dragging them out of the grove and burning them straight away outside the gate? I’m afraid their bodies might attract more goblins here.”

            “Sure. I can go and prepare a torch, uncle.”

            They leave the manor and bring the corpses to an open space near the narrow road. There Trevor and Trella and Elie cut down a short tree together and chop the wood into pieces and pile them up, the bodies on top of it. Casimir pours a bucket of fuel, holds a lit torch in his right hand and moves close to the pile. Before he ignites it, he suddenly catches a glimpse at the goblins’ feet and discovers that they’re wearing rectangular metal boots like little boxes, which look rather funny to him. He lifts the torch and starts the burning with a touch. The pile catches flame and the smell of charred smoke spreads quickly in the night air.

            When they return to the house, Ezra is already asleep on the sofa. Casimir is given a separate small bedroom with a window and a dome on the second floor, near the bedrooms of Trella, Trevor, and the two brothers after he has had a bath with warm water and balmy soap. He puts on his nightgown and lies comfortably on the bed, and it isn’t long before he falls asleep after a whole day’s trotting.