Just a Silver Spoon

Once upon a time, in a half-collapsed ruin that smelled like burnt rat and broken promises, a goblin and a kobold reached for the same silver spoon.

Zruk’s grubby green fingers froze an inch from it.

So did Kippi’s claw.

They stared at each other over the dull gleam of the utensil, both crouched like criminals in a pantry, neither blinking. The spoon sat alone on a velvet pedestal in the centre of the stone room, bathed in a beam of light that came from nowhere and smelled faintly of judgment.

Zruk hissed through his teeth. “I touched it first. You saw.”

“You looked at it first,” Kippi said, eyes wild and glinting. “Which makes it mine under Rule of Magical Discovery Clause Five: Finder’s Keepers, Loser’s Teleporters.”

“There is no clause five!”

“There was! My master wrote it! Probably!”

Zruk snorted, standing upright. “If your ‘master’ was so brilliant, where is he now, huh? Bet he picked up one spoon too many and choked on his own genius.”

Kippi puffed up like a blue feather duster. “He exploded in an astral accident involving twelve fire golems, thank you very much.”

“Ah, yes,” Zruk nodded, “the classic ‘he exploded’ excuse. Very convenient.”

They both looked back at the spoon.

It wasn’t anything special—just silver, maybe old, with a weird rune on the handle. But it had that look. The look that said: this is treasure, even if it isn’t, and you’ll kill each other trying to prove otherwise.

Zruk cleared his throat. “Clearly… this is no ordinary eating device.”

“No duh,” Kippi muttered. “It’s a Scrying Spoon.”

Zruk blinked. “A what?”

“Scrying Spoon. You stir it in water, and it reveals the location of any treasure in the world. Maybe. Depends on the water.”

He squinted. “That’s not real.”

“It is real,” she said quickly, not blinking. “My master—before he exploded—used it to find a cave full of gold that only he knew about. He used to say, ‘Once upon a time, a spoon found a kingdom.’ So yeah. It’s real.”

Zruk opened his mouth, paused. Then: “You’re full of—”

They both lunged.

Their hands collided above the spoon with a loud clang—followed by a louder CRACK as the floor lit up with angry red glyphs.

The door behind them slammed shut.

Zruk yelped and stumbled back. “What did you do?!”

“What did you do?!”

A smooth, cold voice echoed from nowhere.

“Entry Violation Detected. Chamber sealed. Truth required for exit.”

Kippi froze. “Oh no.”

Zruk narrowed his eyes. “You know this trap?”

She nodded. “Truth chamber. It won’t let you out until you tell the truth. Like… real truth. Not just lies with extra adjectives.”

“I always use extra adjectives.”

“Exactly. We’re doomed.”

Zruk groaned and slumped against the wall. “So… now what?”

Kippi looked at him.

Then at the spoon.

Then back at him.

“I get the spoon.”

Zruk bared his teeth. “Like hell you do.”

The room stayed sealed.

Kippi sat cross-legged on the floor, arms folded, muttering equations under her breath. Zruk lay flat on his back like he was melting. Time passed. Or it didn’t. Ruin chambers had a way of cheating clocks.

Zruk finally cracked.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll go first.”

The glyphs flickered faintly.

“I… don’t know what the spoon does.”

The glyphs glowed a little brighter.

Kippi squinted. “Really?”

“Yes! I just said it was powerful because you said it was powerful. I figured, if you wanted it, it had to be good.”

“Huh,” Kippi said, blinking. “Same.”

“What?”

“I have no idea what the spoon does either. I made the scrying thing up because it looked magical, and you were drooling.”

Zruk sat up, furious. “You don’t know what it does?!”

“No! But look at it! You don’t put something on a pedestal like that unless it’s magic! What are we, amateurs?”

Zruk opened his mouth, paused, then nodded slowly. “That is… honestly a fair point.”

The glyphs pulsed green. The door creaked open an inch. Then stopped.

Zruk rolled his eyes. “Ugh. One of those puzzles. Gotta be candid.”

Kippi stood and dusted off her robe. “Alright. Real truth, then.”

They faced each other, tension crackling.

Zruk grimaced. “I’m not a licensed rogue.”

“No!”

“I lied on the application. I just said I was ‘knife-literate.’”

Kippi gasped like he’d kicked a baby.

He pointed. “Your turn.”

“I never graduated from the Academy of Arcane Thought.”

“I knew it!”

“I forged a scroll with macaroni and glitter!”

Zruk laughed so hard he choked.

Kippi kept going. “My master didn’t explode. He fired me. For setting his carpet on fire. On purpose.”

“Oh come on, why?”

“He called me ‘dispensable.’”

The glyphs pulsed again. The door opened wider. One more truth, maybe.

Zruk frowned. “Okay. One more.”

Kippi nodded. “Make it count.”

He sighed. “I’m not here for treasure. I just… wanted to bring something back. Something cool. So the other goblins stop calling me ‘Zruk the Useless.’”

Kippi blinked. “You too?”

He looked up.

“I don’t care about treasure either,” she said. “I just wanted to find something magical so I could go back and prove I’m worth something. To anyone.”

Silence.

The glyphs vanished. The door swung fully open.

Neither moved.

They looked at the spoon.

Then at each other.

Then—wordlessly—they both lunged.

Zruk grabbed the pedestal.

Kippi grabbed the spoon.

The pedestal spun like a top, flinging Zruk backwards into a pillar. The spoon lit up in Kippi’s claw, humming with sudden energy.

She laughed. “It is magic!”

Zruk groaned from the floor. “What’s it doing?!”

Kippi’s eyes went wide. “It’s showing me a map! A glowing treasure map in the air!”

“No way.”

“Yes way! It’s pointing north, to the Mountain of Hollow Echoes!”

“Give me that!”

He leapt at her.

She ducked.

He slammed into the wall.

The spoon shifted colour.

Zruk staggered up, snarling. “You can’t even use it! You failed magic school!”

Kippi bared her fangs. “Better a dropout than a fake rogue!”

They fought like rats in a sack.

The spoon bounced across the floor.

Spells misfired. Traps reactivated. Somewhere, a stone lion screamed. Everything turned blue for a moment. A chicken exploded.

They scrambled for the spoon at the same time, again.

Zruk yanked it free—then immediately froze.

His eyes widened.

“…It’s just a spoon.”

Kippi blinked. “What?”

He turned it in his fingers. The “rune” was just an old family crest. The glow? Residual mana from the pedestal. The “map” was gone—a trick of the room’s enchantments.

“It’s. Just. A. Spoon.”

Kippi took it from him.

Held it up to her eye.

Sniffed it.

Licked it.

Made a face. “Tastes like soup.”

They sat down, breathing hard.

The ruin groaned overhead.

Kippi tossed the spoon onto the floor with a clang.

Zruk stared at it.

“So what do we do now?”

She shrugged. “Find a real treasure, maybe.”

“Or fake one and lie to everyone.”

“Or that.”

They sat in silence.

After a long while, Kippi asked:

“…You want to keep it?”

Zruk looked at her.

Then down at the spoon.

He picked it up.

Turned it once in his fingers.

Then slipped it into his bag.

“No,” he said. “But I think I will.”

And the two of them walked out of the ruin, arguing the whole way about who would get to lie first.