Cicadas chirped and a warm wind rustled through the overgrown tussac grass surrounding him. Draenai’s eyes felt raw and his nose stuffy, as he made his way back home.
Sweat dripped off his back, the midday sun sending out its strongest beams and making him feel as if he was boiling inside.
He knew better than to be out around this time, but his temper had driven him away from the house to cry his angry tears in solitude.
Strangely, he wasn’t able to recall what had upset him. He had some sort of argument with his stepfather but couldn’t remember the details.
It didn’t matter, anyway, he just needed to apologize.
The smell of paint hung in the air, letting him know that he had made it home. His stepfather had recently whitewashed the house to help the structure survive another year now that summer was at its end. The sight of the small white building filled him with unexplainable dread which he ignored as he stepped inside.
Playful screaming welcomed him as his siblings sprinted past, too absorbed in their game to even notice his entrance.
Their joy caused him to grin as he left them to their fun to find his parents in the kitchen.
His feeling of unease grew, and a voice in his head seemed to scream at him to leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he crossed the hallway that divided the living room from the kitchen and was about to open the door when a voice made him stop in his tracks.
“… he is becoming more unstable. Something is wrong, Allia.”
His stepfather's voice was filled with concern, but his words felt like knives to the young boy. Draenai didn’t have to guess, who they were talking about.
“He is just young and going through a rough time …”
“Stop lying to yourself! Being young doesn’t cause a child to have fevers like that, or to have such outbursts of temper. He was about to hit me because I told him to help me paint. That isn’t like him.”
It became harder to breathe as his chest started to constrict, and his hands tingled while feeling clammy.
His stepfather spoke the truth, he had been different these last few months. But hearing it out of his mouth didn’t make Draenai feel any better.
It stayed silent for a moment before his mother answered with a grim note of defeat.
“You think he has magic.”
Her admission caused Draenai to frown. Only bad men had magic. Was he destined to become a bad man?
“I know he does. And you do too.”
Shivers ran over his body as he tried to consider that possibility. Why was this happening to him? What had he ever done wrong?
He heard his stepfather sigh and the distinctive sound of him rubbing over his bald head.
“We need to send him away.”
His determined words caused Draenai’s world to fall apart. His breathing turned harsh and he could feel the heat under his skin intensifying.
Still, he grabbed hold of himself. His stepfather could say what he wanted, but his mother would never allow him to be kicked out.
He almost managed to calm down until he heard his mother’s saddened response.
“I know, darling, but how?”
His mind went blank as the shock of those words reignited the fire within him.
Did she want to get rid of him? Did she not love him? Was he only an inconvenience?
His stomach turned at the thought of returning back to the street. Alone, this time.
“Warchief”
The far-off voice didn’t manage to grab his attention as he could no longer stand the emotions within and thew open the door.
“Amma, don’t send me away!”
Both adults looked stunned at his sudden intrusion, but their shock quickly turned to panic as they could see how distraught he was.
“It is a misunderstanding, Draenai. It is for your own good!”
His mother tried to reason with him, but it only made him feel worse and he shook her off as she tried to pull him into a hug.
“You want to get rid of me!”
“Warchief!”
Anger joined his sorrow and his skin felt itchy as the fire underneath made it dry out and flake off. Sparks of something appeared around him, and his chest constricted further.
“Breathe in, try to calm yourself!”
His stepfather sounded panicked as he instructed him. In fear of what would happen when he lost the remainder of his control, Draenai tried desperately to do as he said but the heat only grew worse.
“We love you Draenai, we only want the best for you!”
He wanted to scream at her, that she wouldn’t throw him away if that were the case, but he couldn’t. Smoke made him cough as the inferno inside his body could no longer be contained.
Then there was a relief as he burst, and his vision was filled with fire, heat, and an unbearable sorrow.
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“Warchief, wake up!”
A sudden splash of cold water caused him to sputter as he tried to sit up, only to be pushed down again. It took a moment for his senses to return to reality and he slowly opened his eyes to see Lidea holding him down. An empty bucket stood beside her, an emergency water source that he kept aside his bed just in case.
“My apologies for that, but you were about to burn the tent down.”
Lidea smiled sheepishly as she let him go. Having sensed he was truly awake now and didn’t pose a threat to himself or others any longer.
“Don’t worry about it, that is what the bucket is for. Anyway, it will dry quickly.”
His overheated skin had already evaporated any dampness of his skin, and the Durgh’ras heat would quickly deal with any that was left.
“Still. It isn’t the most pleasant way of waking up.”
She worried her bottom lip, making Warchief feel guilty. How often now had she helped him? He couldn’t even remember a night in the recent weeks that he hadn’t suffered from his night terrors.
“Where is Crystal?”
The healer was notably absent. Although either of their help was appreciated, he worried about the toll his condition had on Lidea. Even if she showed maturity beyond her years, she was barely an adult in his eyes. In contrast, the battle-hardened healer was able to not let his illness get to her as much.
“Getting more cream. Your back needs treatment.”
He had barely noticed the searing welts. By now, the pain had become nothing out of the ordinary for him.
“It seemed to be a bad one tonight.”
Lidea prodded carefully, clearly knowing it was a sensitive subject but unable to contain her curiosity any longer. It amazed him that it had even taken her so long to ask about it. Maybe she had thought he would tell her on his own, but he wouldn’t. Not this.
“It was.”
Usually, he just dreamed of the fire and the imaginary screams of his family. In reality, they never had a chance to utter a word as they had been instantly scorched to death by his flames.
Her eyes studied his face and he waited patiently for her response, knowing it would come. At first, he had thought she was rather quiet. Only talking when she thought it mattered, and preferring to stay out of playful banter. However, he knew better now. It just took her a while to answer, not because she was slow-witted, but because she meticulously considered every word she spoke.
“I used to see my father each night. How his body hung from the noose, his neck at an impossible angle. It haunted me. Then after my imprisonment, more faces joined him. Every man whose death I caused, would be there to torture me through the night until I could barely sleep.”
Her sudden admission startled him. He had seen her awake at night often enough to know that she suffered nightmares as well, and it had been easy to guess what those nightmares were about. But he hadn’t expected her to broach the subject with him. It allowed him to ask about something that he had noticed recently.
“You seem to sleep better since we left.”
“I still get them from time to time. But they no longer torment me like they used to. I realized that my feeling remorseful was a disservice to them. If I truly want to save Lynoës, then it means that more people who decide to follow me will die. So if I decide to keep on fighting, then it means that I can not bury myself in sorrow. I need to become stronger, and better so I can prevent as many deaths as I can. That is how I can and should honor their deaths.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. She made it sound so easy, but he knew it wasn’t.
“You are a good man, Warchief. You don’t deserve to be suffering like this.”
With those words, she left him to his thoughts as she exited the tent.
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Even though it was late in the afternoon, the Durgh’ras heat didn’t let up as they made their way across the unending savannah. His horse’s hooves crunched against the dry, cracked earth, creating small clouds of dust with every step. Blades of stiff grass whipped around his feet, and thorny bushes snagged as they went past. A lone tree stood further up ahead, its sparse canopy not offering any shade from the unforgiving sun. He had forgotten what an inhospitable place it was, despite having fought here for more than five years.
A brown shape in the grass, one almost invisible to the untrained eye, caught his attention.
“Snake.”
He warned the other two as he steered his horse to the side. Hearing rather than seeing the others follow his example.
All of them had gone quiet ever since their departure that early morning. Despite their many breaks, the heat was unrelenting and weighed down their spirits as soon as they started moving.
Looking over his shoulder, he eyed the two women. Both didn’t fare well in this weather.
Lidea’s fair skin had turned almost crimson even with Crystal’s protective cream. It had become so severe, that she had resorted to covering herself with clothing from head to toe. As she had said that morning, she rather be sweaty than cooked. Still, he kept an eye on her. Concerned that she might faint due to heat exhaustion.
Crystal didn’t fair much better. Her skin and lips had cracked due to dryness, and her movements looked sluggish.
As he was watching her, the half-demoness came up to him and reached him a water bottle. He accepted it without question, knowing their water intake was crucial to surviving this hell.
Each of them had been equipped with their own drinking flask which held a ration of water for the day. But Crystal carried a secondary refilling flask, a nifty device that used magic to convert air into water. It took a long time to convert even a little, but it was better than relying on the small amount of water sources down the road.
Because of this, she had been put in charge of making sure they all drank sufficiently.
“Thank you.”
The half demoness nodded, as she pulled up her scarf to cover more of her mouth and nose. A futile attempt to keep the flying dust from entering her airways, as she fell back to ride beside Lidea and offered her the bottle as well.
Warchief turned his gaze forward, squinting his eyes to discover any potential resting places for the night. Daylight disappeared fast here, and they needed their camp to be ready before the temperature dropped.
Waves of heat shimmered above the ground, distorting the landscape and making it hard to see anything. Scanning the horizon, he noticed something wasn’t right before he even realized what had been bothering him. A couple of dark dots, far off in the distance, were moving.
“Get off your horses, now.”
He hissed urgently, catching both women by surprise. Without waiting to see if they did, he jumped off and led his horse towards a slight hill where the grass had grown particularly dense. It wasn’t much, but there weren’t many places to hide oneself in a place like this. He tried to get the animal to lie down. Cursing as the stubborn thing didn’t respond.
“You are making it nervous. Let me do that.”
Crystal’s soothing voice had an immediate effect on the animal and he didn’t think twice about giving her the reigns.
“What is happening?”
Lidea asked as she attempted to mimic the healer, but was as successful as Warchief had been. Leaving the healer to grab her reigns too.
“Ulaks are coming this way. We should stay low and hope they don’t come near us.”
Though the grass would hide them when looking from far away, it wasn’t high enough to cover them completely from sight.
“Ulaks? Do you mean orcs?”
Fear colored Lidea’s words, as she lay on her stomach and pushed some of the grass to peer out. Clearly struggling to see anything.
“No, I mean Ulaks. They are one specific type of Orc.”
That caused Lidea to pause and Warchief deduced that her dragon rider book had conveniently skipped that magical race. What a shocker.
Again she gazed at the horizon, trying to find the people he had just spoken of.
“I don’t see them.”
He came to lie beside her and looked through the same patch of grass before directing her gaze.
“Look toward the tree, and then beyond. They are still a while off. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Looking over his shoulder, he saw all three horses lay flat on the ground and whispered a thank you to Crystal, who just grinned smugly and shook her shoulders. As if to say it was no big deal, but Warchief was glad for the Udrän’s ways of thoroughly training their horses. It would have been painful if they had to continue traveling by foot.
With the horses taken care of, Crystal crawled between them, squinting her eyes at the horizon.
“I would have thought those were rocks.”
She remarked when she noticed what he was pointing out, causing Lidea to frown and stare intensely. Her human eyes were simply unable to see so far.
“Rocks don’t become bigger on their own.”
He remarked simply. Earning him a smile from the half-demoness.
“Fair point.”
The black dots had formed into small figures now. Establishing that they were indeed coming towards them.
It took longer than expected for the shapes to draw near enough so he could confirm them to be Ulaks. Their yellow-greyish skin color almost blended into the grass they traveled through. They were on foot and it was a big group. Not something he wanted to face if he could help it.
They are so slow.
His stomach started to form a knot as he could only imagine one reason why that could be.
Lidea's sudden intake of breath clued him into when her eyes were able to distinguish them too.
“They are bigger than I imagined.”
She whispered and Warchief nodded. They were big, monstrous even, standing over two meters tall and with shoulders easily double as wide as a human's. Fighting against one was a nightmare, fighting against multiple was a dead wish.
“They are slow though.”
Lidea remarked after a while of watching the Ulaks travel. Echoing his earlier observation.
“It means that something is slowing them down.”
He stated bitterly.
Before Lidea could ask, Crystal answered so he didn’t have to.
“They have slaves with them, probably.”
The human blanched at that, her face contorted by pity.
As they drew closer, Warchief could distinguish a group of around twenty Ulaks in front with several dozen beings trailing behind them. Some of the slaves looked human, others were fellow orcs that had been sold, but all were shackled by the same heavy iron chains. Their skins carried the traces of abuse, open wounds, and bruises, as they shuffled bare-footed over the scorching sands.
They were followed by another group of Ulaks. The drivers, whose job it was to keep the caravan moving.
One of the slaves fell, and immediately the crack of a whip sounded followed by the man’s anguished scream.
“Keltj zaide zheli itt, sinfer!”
Rise or die here, you vermin.
His brain instantly translated the sibilant Ulak language, and the threat made his blood boil with righteous anger. Fire simmered beneath his skin, his body primed for a fight.
However, Warchief forced himself to stay still.
There were at least forty Ulaks, and even he wasn’t conceited enough to believe he could defeat that many without a plan.
So he waited, violence thrumming in his veins, as the man struggled back to his feet, stumbling to keep pace with the rest of the slave caravan.
Warchief knew he wouldn’t make it. He was already too weak, and the nearest Ulak settlement was still miles away.
Beside him, Lidea tensed and even Crystal, who was usually immune to cruelty, pressed her lips together as if to stifle a growl.
Holding their breath, they watched as the caravan passed, oblivious to the foreigners hiding in the grass just fifty feet away.
They didn’t move till they were long gone. After even Warchief couldn’t perceive them anymore and the sun had nearly sunk behind the horizon.
“We should set up camp.”
It was Crystal that broke their silence and jumped to her feet to get the horses up. The half-demoness was always the fastest to recover from a tense situation.
Although Warchief nodded in agreement, the anger still lingered inside his body.
“I don’t understand how they can treat them that way. Aren’t they supposed to be precious merchandise?”
Lidea’s sounded offended and repulsed by the whole ordeal. She was trying to find a reason behind the Ulaks' pointless violence, not understanding that they were just different. Ulaks simply loved cruelty.
“You are wasting your time if you try and find meaning behind the actions of monsters, Lidea.”
She frowned at his answer before walking off towards the horses.
At least the heat was finally dying down as Warchief started on dinner while Crystal tended to the horses, and Lidea set up their tents and blankets.
His mind lingered in turmoil as he stirred the stew. Periodically glancing up to the horizon where the Ulaks had disappeared. They had gone so slow. He should be able to catch up with no problem.
The desire for a fight crawled under his skin. With the cover of night, it would be easy to take them by surprise and inflict some justice.
“Don’t you even think about it.”
Crystal’s harsh words made him look up. Finding that the half-demoness had seated herself across from him and was staring angrily. She knew him too well by now.
He didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop her from trying to talk sense in his head.
“We have no time for you to try and be a hero. Just eat and go to sleep. We have enough on our plate as is.”
Warchief didn’t answer. Knowing that nothing she said, would stop him. His monstrous side already too eager for the promise of violence.
“What is the matter?”
Lidea came to sit beside him and looked from Crystal to Warchief and back again.
“He is planning to free those slaves.”
Crystal answered before Warchief could prevent her. Lidea’s reaction was instantly as she turned to him, looking aghast at the mere proposal.
“You can’t be serious.”
Warchief kept stirring the stew. Keeping himself from answering.
“By hell, you are. Did you see those things? I counted fifty-three of those monsters. Even you can’t fight that many, and for what? Are you going to escort those slaves to safety? You will just save them from slavery only to condemn them to death by dehydration.”
Warchief’s jaw clenched as he listened to Lidea’s words, his eyes still fixed on the bubbling stew. She was right. Even if he freed them, it was likely they were going to die. But at least, he could give them a chance. He knew what the Ulaks would do to them, after all, he had seen it before. Dying was preferable to that fate.
Letting out a heavy breath, he tried to expel his anger before answering.
“I’m aware. It is just frustrating.”
He uttered as if defeated. Knowing they would never see eye to eye on this matter.
Her steel grey eyes softened and Warchief knew that she believed his act.
“It is awful. I wish we could help, but even if we free them. They will just be replaced. You would need to uproot the whole country to make something like this stop.”
She spoke calmly, trying to soothe his fury with reason, which didn’t work but he nodded nonetheless.
“Let’s talk about something else, we will have a hard time sleeping as it is.”
Again he nodded. Letting her believe that he had moved on, and she smiled gratefully, which caused his conscience to squirm.
They ate in amicable conversation, as Warchief tried his best to hide his growing excitement. As the sky darkened, Lidea yawned and stretched, rubbing her tired eyes. She wished Crystal good night before turning to Warchief and lingering at the entrance of her tent.
“Get some rest, Warchief.”
She said softly, her tone laced with concern. The words stabbed his guilty conscious further.
“I will.”
Lidea smiled before finally crawling inside. Leaving Warchief behind with only Crystal.
“You should be ashamed for lying to her like that.”
The half-demoness looked down on him as if disappointed by his behavior. He should have known that she wouldn’t be fooled.
“I will be back before light. She will be none the wiser.”
Crystal huffed, as she watched him rise quietly and gather the few belongings he needed.
“Sure that. Things have a habit of not going the way they were planned when you are involved.”
Throwing a small water bag over his shoulder, he grinned.
“I can’t deny that.”
She harrumphed before smiling in concern.
“I would go with you..”
“Out of the question. We can’t leave her on her own.”
They both glanced at Lidea’s tent. It wasn’t like they thought her to be helpless, but they needed her to be safe. For Lynoës, and Asmeon as a whole.
However, her tendency to sleep like death didn’t fill Warchief with confidence either about her self-preservation skills.
“Fine. Just try and use your head. We need you back here before dawn.”
Warchief nodded, glad for her understanding as he started towards following the Ulaks’s track.
“I will do my best.”
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