Love is worthless. This is a concept hammered into every orc, goblin, and troll's mind from the moment they pick up a blade. Love makes you weak. Love makes you irrational. Love makes you cowardly. Taught to every one of us to make us the perfect soldier.
There is no love in our clan. There are allies, but no friends. Bonds are made only in battle, and only on ability. Mates reproduce and return to work. Everything runs without conflict, and without connections.
For runts like me, they drill it in harder than most. Perhaps if we love less, we'll grow faster. The hate and anger that replaced it would make us stronger.
Since birth I thought this was the way the world was supposed to be. All species held love in the same regard we do, and that was final. That was my view until I met the wanderers.
Thrown out by my tribe for maturing too slowly, I was found fending for myself on a path to a cave. I was ready for my final stand. I bared my teeth, and held my stick out... And they responded with laughter. When I charged, they fought back. Though their skill was greater than mine, they seemed to take care to ensure I was unharmed.
Once disarmed, I knelt to take my fate. One I could be proud of. I closed my eyes... and nothing came. Instead, they told me to stand. The mage reached a hand out. I took it. From then on, I was one of them.
In the first few encounters, I was foolish. I was used to working on my own. Fighting as one, rather than a team. I rushed ahead, and in exchange got beaten to a pulp. Only thanks to the cleric did I stand back up.
They taught me of relationships. Real, personal ones. Through campfire stories, chaotic encounters, and bonds that formed through mutual respect and compassion, I learned how useful love is. I learned about friendship.
And as we stand in the firey hellscape caused by the grandwizard's unstable gem, I recall everything the wanderers have done. They saved my life. They gave me purpose. They taught me love.
All of these lessons show me what I must do. I walk forwards, against the pleas of my party. My companions yell out as I stare at the gem. Their screams are barely audible over the loud rumbles of the earth around us, and the screeching of the gem.
A tear drops from my eye. I grip the gem. As the magic courses through me, I feel it tearing through my soul. It rends my very essence, but I stay still. I must keep the wanderers safe.
The energy exits through every crevice in my body, leaving my friends in safety. I withstand another second before my soul is torn completely, but I've done it. I know with what's left of my consciousness that I did it.
annaxmalina
kianamaiart
blakekathryn
dededos
areudirty
ellievsbear
origamiaround
vaporwave
discoholicmusic
