The next day, after the first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, Atem called the elder goblin to his side. He looked at him intently and asked, "Why do you all refer to each other as the tall one, the short one, or the fat one? Don't you have names?"
The elder hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Master… we are all nameless," he said, his voice frail but steady. "My eldest son… he was the only one who had a name, but… he was killed. After that, we felt it was safer to remain without names. We call what we see… the easiest way to remember each other."
Atem nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I see." He turned slightly, speaking inward, into the presence of the Oracle that resided in his mind. "Oracle… if I name all of them, will it cause me harm?"
<< Master, you have no need to worry, >> the Oracle answered in her calm, echoing voice inside his mind. << Your magicule reservoir has grown significantly, and with access to Veldora's magicule pool, naming them will not affect you in the slightest. I will regulate the flow to prevent any strain. >>
Atem exhaled softly. "Good." He turned back to the elder goblin, his eyes steady and commanding. "Go and call everyone — all of the goblins and the wolves. Tell them to gather here."
"Yes, Master." He shuffled off, moving through the village, calling out. Within a few minutes, the goblins began to trickle in, faces bright with curiosity, some whispering excitedly to each other. The wolves, led by the large male, padded silently from the edge of the village, forming a loose ring around the gathering.
Atem's gaze swept over them, and he raised a hand to silence the murmurs. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "We are now a family. We will rebuild this village together. You cannot remain nameless, especially as our numbers grow. Today… I will give each of you a name."
A soft murmur ran through the goblins. "Really? Master will name us?" "There are so many of us…" Some faces were wide-eyed with anticipation, others with nervous uncertainty.
The elder, voice quivering, spoke up. "Master… naming so many… it could be dangerous. The magic… the power… it may—"
Atem lifted his hand, cutting him off gently but firmly. "Worry not. I can handle it." His eyes met the elder's, steady and sure. "Do not fear. Today, everyone will receive a name. You will be recognized. You will be known."
The goblins shuffled closer, curiosity mixed with a trace of apprehension, while the wolves' ears twitched, sensing the serious air in their new master's voice. The forest was quiet around them, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves, as if the world itself was waiting to see what would happen next.
<< Master, >> the Oracle whispered softly inside his mind, << I am ready to control the flow. Proceed as you wish. >>
Atem nodded ever so slightly. "Very well," he said, looking over the assembled goblins and wolves. "Let us begin."
Atem's gaze softened as he looked at the elder goblin. His voice was calm, yet carried weight, "Elder, from now on, your name will be Rigurd."
The frail goblin blinked in shock, then a trembling smile spread across his weathered face. His shoulders shivered as if a heavy burden had been lifted, and tears welled up in his eyes. "Rigurd… I… I have a name… Master, thank you…" His voice cracked, but there was joy there, a fragile, bright warmth. Atem nodded once in acknowledgment, silently affirming the new beginning for the village.
He moved down the line of goblins methodically, his voice clear and deliberate. "Gobta," he said to the quick, mischievous one darting around the edges. "Gobtu," to the small goblin with sharp eyes. "Tabata," "Bilga," "Kura," "Sern," and so on. Each name landed like a small spark, and the goblins' faces lit up in disbelief and happiness. They whispered their new names to themselves, testing the sound, repeating it, feeling their identity settle within them.
Some of the younger goblins squeaked with delight. "Gobta… I… I have a name now!" One even stumbled slightly as he tried to bow to Atem properly, overwhelmed with excitement. The elder Rigurd smiled and gently steadied the boy. "Remember, these names carry honor now. Treat them well."
After finishing with the goblins, Atem turned to the wolves. His eyes met the large male's steady gaze. "You… your name will be Ranga."
Ranga's ears flicked at the sound, and the deep rumble in his throat felt almost like approval. The other wolves watched, tails low but attentive, their instincts recognizing the weight behind Atem's voice. Atem continued calmly, "Kiba, Sora, Haku…" and each wolf accepted the name with a subtle shift in posture, as if the word itself carried the acknowledgment of their loyalty and strength.
Minutes passed. Atem's palms glowed faintly as he poured controlled magicules into the names, the Oracle in his mind guiding the flow. He sensed the warmth of power flowing through each creature — not dangerous, but potent, like sunlight spreading over the forest.
Then, slowly, one by one, the goblins' eyes began to droop. Gobta yawned, staggering slightly before falling forward onto the soft earth. Tabata's head sank onto his knees. The elder Rigurd's frail body slumped into a seated position, a peaceful expression on his face. Atem's eyes widened. "What… the—"
<< Master, >> the Oracle's voice echoed gently in his mind, << do not panic. This is expected. The act of naming them awakens latent potential within their being. Many monsters, when evolving, require deep rest. The sleep allows their bodies to adapt, integrate the new identity, and grow into their evolved forms. >>
Atem exhaled slowly, feeling a strange mix of relief and curiosity. "Evolving… so that's why they're asleep… It's not harm?"
<< Correct, Master, >> the Oracle confirmed. << They are safe. Their minds and bodies are reorganizing to accept their new forms. This deep sleep is a necessary part of the process. >>
Atem nodded, understanding settling in. He stepped back, eyes sweeping over the sleeping goblins and wolves, noticing how peaceful they looked, almost serene. He could feel the magicules dancing lightly around them, weaving through their forms like threads of sunlight.
"I see…" he murmured to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. "So this is the power of a name… not just identity, but growth… evolution."
He then summoned the guardians — Dark Magician, Black Luster Soldier, and King's Knight — take positions near the sleeping circle. Atem's mind wandered, watching the gentle rise and fall of their chests, thinking about how fragile yet strong this new family was.
<< Rest assured, Master, >> the Oracle added. << I am monitoring the flow of magicules. They will awaken stronger, more capable, and loyal beyond measure. >>
Atem closed his eyes briefly, letting the forest's whispers and the hum of magicules soothe him. Outside, leaves rustled in the soft morning wind, the sun climbed higher, and a new chapter for the goblins and wolves quietly began.