Chapter 12
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AN: Honestly, nobody is more surprised than I that I'm finally posting this chapter. Not only did I have the shittiest year, hence the sudden hiatus, but I rewrote this chapter 6 times. Hopefully, this chapter will live up to your expectations. If anyone is still here. 😅
Warning(s): Brief mentions of death
There are many tomes in the temple library that depict the realms beyond the living world. And you could vaguely remember your teachers explaining that your ability to speak with Eia would guarantee you a fortunate afterlife. You'd be greeted by a feast hosted by the gods, and your ancestors would be in attendance. And for all eternity, your soul would reside in Eia’s palace.
But you couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything around you. Swallowed within a void, with only your thoughts to entertain yourself. Was your soul simply trapped between realms, waiting for Hedis's aid? Before your thoughts begin to spiral, a voice mercifully cuts through the silence, “you thought I would let you die? Do you think so poorly of me?” Instantly, the darkness disappears, and you land on a hard surface. The void has been replaced by candlelight and marble floors. A tall figure in a velvet cloak deeper than the night sky stands with their back towards you. “I will admit, it was getting close.”
“I am relieved you haven’t forsaken me,” you gradually stand up, keeping your eyes on the figure. “It's been too long, Eia.”
“Watch your tone, child,” she warns. “If you haven't noticed, many things are occupying my time.”
“I find it hard to believe that you didn’t have time to spare to give me a sign,” you take a few steps towards her.
“You’re still alive, isn’t that enough of a sign?” Part of you wanted to argue with her, but you decided against it. Eia approaches you, and although she is merely a cloaked figure, you can tell she is looking you up and down. “I see you forgone the pin of my sigil,” she chuckles, “but yet you believe enough to spill your own blood?”
“My faith in you is stronger than a brass pin.”
“But something about it bothers you, my dear,” Eia questions.
“The heraldry of the royal family is imprinted on the back,” a sigh escapes you. “As I learned more about why the rebellion was formed, and as the horde began to feel like home, it felt wrong to wear it.”
“Well, that makes me feel better about what I’m about to ask of you. When you awake, you will need to destroy it, and the one Yanna wears. All the pins are embedded with tracking magic.”
“But wouldn’t they already know where we are?”
“The tool used to track them, which the lieutenant had, glows brighter as it gets closer. Thankfully, it is not precise. And the king would need to send another one to find the two of you again.”
You sigh in relief, “that’s good. I will be sure to destroy them… Although it might prove difficult to convince Yanna to give up her pin. She’s still so young, and she clings to the words of the king's council.”
“If she resists, tell her that once she gives up the pin, Karl’s coughing sickness will never return.”
“I will,” you promise. You glance around the ornate marble hall that you’re standing in, a million questions rushing through your mind. It takes you a second, but you decide to ask the most important one, “Eia, what is happening?”
She sighs heavily, “the royal family needs to end.” Neither of you spoke for a minute, letting the words sink in. “Generations ago, your people pledged their loyalty and subservience to us in exchange for freedom from their captors. We helped them create treaties with the Dwarven Council for their excess land. We chose who would become the royal family because we had faith that they would uphold those values. But their bloodline has since been tainted by greed and ignorance.”
“And by end, you mean killing them?”
“All of them,” she confirmed. She lets you sit with that information before continuing. “We’ve tried many times to correct their behavior, but the royal family continues to ignore us. And this is more than our egos being hurt; the kingdom is suffering. Treaties with the Dwarves keep being broken, more and more magic is outlawed, they’re dead-set on isolating themselves from the rest of the world, and people are starving.”
“Then this is your last resort?”
"No, that would be releasing demons onto the mortal plain," a quiet chuckle comes from the cloak. "This is our second-to-last plan. And considering how well the rebels and the horde get along, I'm fairly confident in its effectiveness." You could only nod in agreement as your brain processed everything Eia revealed.
"If I had heard this from anyone else, I would laugh in their face," you glance at your hands, unable to keep from fidgeting."What will happen to me if this grand plan fails?"
"It won't."
"But if it does?"
A spectral blue hand reaches from the cloak and lands on your shoulder, “as long as your faith in me doesn’t waver, you will be fine.” You glimpse at where her face would be, but you couldn’t make out anything beneath the cloak's shadow. “There is something else you will need to do for me when you awaken."
"I presume I know too much to say no?"
"Exactly," she teases.
"What do I need to do?"
"This plan relies on your budding relationship with the Otoschlibt." She holds up her other hand to keep you from interrupting, "it was Frua's idea, don't blame me. But she is right, love is a powerful motivator."
"I can't force him to love me.”
Eia laughs, “he already does, my dear. He hasn’t professed it because you are keeping him at arm's length. How many people need to point it out to you for you to believe it?”
“Too many, apparently,” you mumble while wringing your hands. “It still feels wrong. All my life, the elders have warned me that romance and lust will stray me from my divine path. Won’t our connection be severed if I lose my maidenhood?”
“Your elders have filled your head with lies. They told you that to control you.” Her hand moves from your shoulder to gently cup your jaw. “Their rules are worthless to you now, so forget them.”
“You won’t be mad if I choose to live a more Orcish life?”
“As long as it is me you are praying to, I do not care. Do what feels right, what makes you happy, and rediscover yourself. Promise me?”
“Yes, Eia, I promise.”
“Good. Now wake up.” You didn’t even have a chance to process her command before everything around you vanished. The shock makes you bolt upright from your slumber. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the light in the room, and you looked around. Somehow, you were already back in your quarters, buried beneath the furs on the bedroll. The flickering of the fire caught your attention, but the sight before it was truly a surprise.
Kurakh knelt beside the fire, sitting on the heels of his feet. His eyes were closed, and his hands rested on his lap with palms facing upwards. You couldn't help but be amazed at the sight of his supplication. Not only because the orc's form of prayer was so different from your own, but also because you could hardly imagine Kurakh begging for anything. "Kurakh?"
His eyes opened as he turned to look at you. Relief washed over his face as moves toward you. "Otoshkar heard my prayers," he says, kneeling beside the bedroll. His hand quickly envelopes yours, turning your arm to access your wrist. The cut you made was already long gone; only the pale mark of the sigiled iron was left as you expected. "A little warning would have been appreciated."
"There was not enough time," you shrug and glance at your wrist. "I've done it many times before."
Kurakh sighs but doesn’t bother to argue. “Yanna took care of the rest of the injured while you were asleep. The Lieutenant hasn’t woken up yet, but Yanna thinks he should be fine.”
“Poison wreaks havoc on the body; he’ll be sleeping for a while.”
“Good, the less I have to deal with him, the better.”
“You'll have to deal with him eventually,” you sigh and pull your knees to your chest. “How is Yanna?”
“Very quiet and timid. But, she seemed to be happy with her placement with Galta, Maaga, and Schelura.”
“Good,” you unceremoniously kick the blanket and furs off with your feet. The motion was suspiciously easier than it has been the last couple of weeks. You lift the skirt of your habit, not caring that Kurakh could see. You gently pressed on the warg bite, and for once, there was no pain at all.
“What is it,” Kurakh asks, concernedly. You untie the garter, roll down the stocking, and rip away the bandage. There was absolutely no sign of the warg bite. Kurakh looks at the leg, shocked, “is that normal?”
“I don't know,” you touch the skin almost in disbelief. “I've never been injured when doing that kind of ritual before,” you shrug before pulling up your stocking. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that Kurakh has graciously focused his gaze elsewhere. Once your garter was secured, you swung your legs to the edge of the bedroll.
“What do you think you're doing,” Kurakh raises a quizzical brow.
“I need to see Yanna.”
“It can wait; you need to rest.”
“Kurakh, I’m fine.” Your stockinged feet hit the floor, the stone immediately sucking away the warmth. “Where are my boots?”
Kurakh sighs and stands to retrieve your boots. “I suppose nothing I say will stop you?”
A smirk tugs at your lips, “you're learning." You watch as he sets your boots on the ground. Although his face was neutral, you could see the concern in his eyes. “Would it make you feel better if you walked me there?”
Kurakh smiles, “it would ease some of my worries.”
“Then it’s settled,” you finish tying your boots and raise your hand. Kurakh takes the hint and pulls you onto your feet. Once you’re standing, his other hand lingers on your waist to steady you. You chose to ignore the heat crawling up your neck, “how long was I asleep?”
“All day, the sun will set soon.”
“Heavens, it certainly didn't feel like that long,” you sigh, hesitantly stepping to the side. Kurakh moves to let you pass, and you could feel his good eye watching you like a hawk. Embarrassment quickly washes over you as you take the first few steps forward. Your feet feel as if stones were tied to them. Kurakh quickly moves beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “It seems my legs are still sleeping.”
“Shall I carry you,” he asks with a smirk.
“You would like that too much. I will be fine in just a moment.” Kurakh chuckles as he follows behind you. You carefully walk to your chest of belongings, grabbing the sigil pin from atop the chest. “I need to get Yanna’s, and we need to destroy them. They have tracking magic.”
“You didn’t think to mention that before,” Kurakh frowns.
“I didn’t know until today, she just told me.”
“Who told you?”
“Eia,” you show him the sigil in your hand for emphasis.
“Wait, you and Yanna can talk to your gods directly?”
“Only I can speak with Eia when she wants to,” you explain as you head towards the door. Thankfully, your legs were cooperative by the time you reached the door. You turn to look at him, “are you coming or not?” Kurakh simply hums in response, confusion written all over his face. “What is it?”
“It’s interesting, realizing how much power you have. ”
“I don’t, it’s simply dumb luck.”
“You may not see it as power because it is all you’ve ever known, but you are powerful. Even the wisest Orcish shaman cannot speak to Otoshkar directly. I have only heard of this ability in myths.”
“Does it make you think of me differently?”
“I have only gained more respect for you,” he smiles as he steps closer. He glances at the pin in your hand and motions to the door, “I suppose we should follow Eia’s order.” A smile creeps onto your face as you open the door, turning quickly so he doesn’t see. Luckily, the hallway didn’t feel as cold as it did when you first woke this morning, which made the walk to your friend's quarters more enjoyable.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach their quarters. Laughter could be heard from inside, prompting Kurakh to roll his eyes. You knock on the door and mentally prepare for whatever may be happening inside. The door swings open, and you are instantly greeted with Schelura shouting, “you’re alive!” She didn’t even give you any time to react before wrapping her arms around you.
Kurakh laughs as she pulls you into the room, lingering in the doorway as she fawns over you. “Oh, we were so worried,” she rolls up your sleeve and inspects your arm. “No scar?”
“There never is one when I do a ritual like that,” you shrug as she shows your arm to the room. You look around the room for Yanna and find her sitting on a bedroll in the corner, trying to keep her distance from the others despite the size of the room. She sits up straighter once she notices you looking at her. You step away from Schelura and knelt before her. The younger girl's eyes land on Kurakh standing in the doorway behind you. Upon noticing this, you choose to speak in the Vorren tongue, “trust me, he wouldn’t dare put a hand on you.”
Yanna’s eyes darted around the room, and she nervously responded in Vorren, “I watched him kill our countrymen.”
“For him, it was a matter of survival. Despite what you’ve been told, there is not a bloodthirsty bone in that Orc.” You sigh and gently take her hand, “I wish I could explain everything to you, but the gods will be angry with me if I say too much too soon. But, I can promise you everything that has happened, is the gods trying to save us from something worse.” She bites her lip as she stares into your eyes, searching for any hint that you may be lying to her. “I promise you.”
“I'm scared.”
“I can imagine,” your eyes land on the sigil pinned to her apron. “Before I forget, while I recovered, Eia spoke with me in my dream. We need to destroy our pins; they have tracking magic.”
“I want to be found,” she frowns.
“I understand that you are uncomfortable being surrounded by those you believe are your enemies, but I need you to trust me. And, if you cannot trust me, then I need you to trust Eia.”
“This is madness,” she pulls away from you.
“Karl's coughing sickness will never return.” Her eyes widen before looking at her pin, then to the sky as if to ask for guidance. “Eia always keeps her promises.”
With a deep sigh, she removes the pin and places it into your hand, “I pray I will not regret this.”
