It began with silence.

  Never trust silence in a garden. It’s the kind of silence that waits, coiled like a vine with secrets, just long enough for you to start enjoying yourself—and then it pounces. Ren was off planting marigolds and whispering to squash like they were sacred monks in a root-based monastery. Mimi was suspiciously absent. I was reclining—yes, swords can recline—on a smooth rock, basking in a rare patch of sunlight, dreaming of a time when I was feared.

  Then came the sound: a shriek. A bleat, to be specific. Followed by a thunk, that was followed by a very offended grunt.

  I was lifted—unceremoniously, might I add—by Ren, who ran toward the source of the noise with me clutched to his chest like a shiny security blanket. We rounded the lavender patch and found her. Mimi. Standing over a shattered terracotta pot and what appeared to be the broken head of a garden gnome.

  The gnome’s hat was still spinning.

  Ren blinked. “Oh no.”

  I hummed low and dark. “Oh yes. The war has begun.”

  There were at least three more gnomes. One had fallen over into the chives. Another had been relocated—violently—into the birdbath. The last stood defiantly beside the watering can, unbothered, with its arms crossed in eternal ceramic judgment.

  “She’s gone rogue,” I hissed.

  “She’s just confused,” Ren said, as if this was a reasonable response to an unprovoked assault on ornamental lawn dwellers.

  Mimi snorted and headbutted the birdbath for emphasis.

  Ren, of course, decided this was an opportunity.

  “Maybe she’s trying to protect the garden,” he offered as he set me down beside the destroyed gnome remains.

  “From what?” I snapped. “Statues that vaguely resemble retired accountants?”

  And that’s when the system—traitor that it is—pinged.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  [Quest Accepted: Miniature Uprising – Investigate strange animosity between goat and gnomes.]

  [Reward: Unknown.]

  I don’t trust quests with “unknown” rewards. They usually involve slime. Or trauma. Or sentient compost.

  But Ren was already crouched beside the fragments, inspecting them like a battlefield archaeologist. “This gnome has cracks along the base,” he murmured. “Like it moved.”

  “No,” I said. “No, no, no. We are not doing this. We are not diving headfirst into garden gnome conspiracy theories.”

  Ren didn’t listen. He never listens.

  We set up a stakeout.

  I was placed—once again—on the fencepost. The goat stood beside me, chewing on a leaf with an air of military discipline. She had smeared dirt under her eyes. I don’t know where she got the tiny goggles from….

  And We watched.

  The sun dipped low. Shadows stretched. Somewhere, an owl coughed dramatically.

  And Then….. the gnome moved.

  Just an inch. A twitch. But enough.

  Mimi growled—a tiny, nasal sound that sent the birds scattering. I gasped. “Oh no. They’re real.”

  [New Title Unlocked: First Witness of the Garden War]

  The gnome turned its painted head. Not fast. But deliberate. It was looking at Ren. Then at Mimi. Then, horror of horrors, at me.

  The air thickened. Tension rippled through the soil and somewhere in the carrot patch, a worm screamed and passed out dramatically.

  Then the gnome waved.

  And Mimi lost it.

  She charged, horns down, hooves pounding like a tiny cloven cavalry at the gnome. I screamed. Ren screamed and The gnome stood its ground until the very last second, then vanished—just blinked out of existence, leaving behind a faint smell of peppermint and smugness.

  Ren fell to his knees. “I think… they’re testing us.”

  “I think,” I muttered, “we just declared war on an underground terracotta syndicate.”

  [Quest Updated: Miniature Uprising – Gnome Presence Confirmed. Garden War Initiated.]

  [Reward Unlocked: +1 Goat Morale | +1 Lawn Awareness]

  I don’t even know what Lawn Awareness is.

  That night, Ren wrote a truce letter on a leaf and placed it in the birdbath. Mimi patrolled the perimeter with a broom. I tried to file a formal objection to reality but was denied by the daisies.

  And as I hummed into the night, thinking it couldn’t get worse, I remembered it always got worse….

  [Next Time: The Gnome Ambassador Arrives. He Brought Cookies.]