Art by jabberox
Storms & Sacrifice
Chapter 1
“You look good.”
“You look better.”
“...Sorry.” Adam’s words make me grimace. Knew I shoulda dressed down more for this.
“Come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he huffs from his spot across the table and smiles. “I’m glad you’re doing good. We’ve heard some rumors, and I’ve been worried.”
“Yeah. Like is it true that after you lost the fight to that big guy he fu—oww!” Nate rubs his side where Adam’s elbow hit him.
Adam glares at the mage to his right before turning back to me. “Seriously though, David. Is he hurting you?”
“No, really. I’m fine. Better than fine, all things considered.” I smile back, trying to hide any discomfort over the topic. I can only imagine what they’ve heard—and how much of it is true. “I’m more worried about you guys in here.”
It's Astraday, which is visiting day at the Yash'ak Cr'hol Labor Camp. I’ve been worried about my friends and where they’ve been held since we were first arrested, and this place was no different. Even though Khazak assured me that everything would be fine, that this place was better than an actual prison, I still needed to see it for myself. So, before my first visit, he arranged for a brief “tour” of the camp for me. It’s actually…pretty nice. I mean it’s still a jail, but it’s also basically just a bunch of boring buildings behind a big fence.
It almost reminds me of the knight academy; everyone’s wearing a uniform, the prisoner’s rooms look more like dorms than cells, and half of them leave during the day to work—where they earn actual money. From what I saw (and smelled), the food doesn’t even seem half bad. Khazak told me the place is named after one of the city’s first rangers, and that the term “labor camp” is a holdover from when this place was an actual camp, when most of the city was still made up of tents. All the more reason I think they need to change it; labor camps are something very different where I come from.
This is my second time here, my first being last weekend when I saw Liss and Corrine. Thanks to Khazak pulling some strings, I’m able to sit with two of my friends at a time. After I get patted down by one of the guards, they bring me to a large room filled with tables where they’re already seated. They've got the prisoners split by gender, and since Adam insisted the girls go first—which is a very Adam thing to do—this week I get to see him and Nate.
“We’re alright. It's not as rough in here as you'd think.” Adam gives me a small smile. “The food’s not that bad, and the beds still beat sleeping on the ground outside. They say we’re earning some money while we're in here, too. They’ve got me and Liss working construction, so far just helping to build homes in the poorer parts of the city. It's mostly moving materials around and holding them in place while the mages do their thing.”
“What about you?” I ask Nate, more out of politeness than actual interest. When I was here last week no one had been assigned a “job” yet.
“Corrine and I have been hard at work transcribing books.” He flexes his hand like it hurts. “If they’d just let me use my magic, I could have the whole thing done in a few hours but nooooo...” On both of his wrists are small metal bracelets, the same as I saw on Corrine last week. They’re long-term versions of the city’s anti-magic bracers, lighter and unconnected to make it easier to move around and work while still cutting off the wearer from their magical abilities.
“What about you?” Adam ignores Nate’s whining. “What does... Ironstorm, is that his name?” Yep. I nod. “What does he have you doing?”
“Actually, I’m kinda...working with him and the people who arrested us.” I scratch my head, feeling embarrassed that I’m basically working with the enemy. “It’s not all that different from what we did back at the academy.”
It's been about two weeks since I started my “job” with the V'rok'sh Tah'lj rangers as Captain Khazak Ironstorm’s assistant. I wish I could say it's been an interesting two weeks, but sadly after the investigation we had my first two days, it has been incredibly boring. Khazak—or Sir, as I sometimes know him—wasn’t kidding when he said a big part of his job was filling out paperwork; he spends most of his time in his office doing that.
“Isn’t that kind of weird?” Adam sounds surprised. Understandable, given one of the main reasons we left home was the work we were doing as part of the Northlake Academy of Knighthood—you know, real honorable knight things, like arresting protestors or protecting rich people’s property. “It’s a lot more boring than it sounds. The most exciting thing that happened last week was helping an old lady find her dog.” She was thankful, at least. “Check it out though.” I bring up one of my arms and flex. “They’ve got a gym.”
Just because Khazak has to do a lot of paperwork doesn't mean I do, unless you count the whole “trying to learn a new language” thing. When he’s not making me work through my Learning Atasi book (which is going...alright), we manage to break up the boring downtime with some fun activities. Not like that (Well, except this one time we were stuck there kinda late...). I just mean there’s been plenty to keep me busy.
Not only do I have a gym to workout in now, but a few days after I started, they tore down the old cells in the yard and converted the space into an outdoor training area. When I can convince Khazak or one of the other rangers to join me, we’ll spar back there. It’s mostly hand-to-hand stuff, which isn’t really my forte against a bunch of muscled-up orcs, but there’s been a few times where I’ve gotten to wield a sword again. I even got my own work-issued shortsword! I know it's only been two weeks, but it already feels like I’m starting to bulk back up.
“You'll be back to your old self in no time.” Adam grins.
“Working out won’t make you taller, David,” Nate snarks.
“So anyways,” I push past him, “if you see the girls, can you let them know I won’t be able to make visiting day next weekend?”
“Why? Everything alright?” Adam tilts his head.
“Yeah, just gonna be spending the week in the woods.” That’s what Khazak told me a few days ago.
“You’re just...going camping?” Nate squints his eyes.
“No, it's this ranger thing. Every week a different group goes out and patrols.” It was one of those patrols that caught and arrested us. “At the end of the week, a new group comes in and takes the old one’s place. They rotate every four weeks or so, and we leave tomorrow for our turn.”
“Huh. Yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Have fun.” I cringe inwardly at Adam’s use of the word “fun,” realizing that I basically just bragged about going on a camping trip for a week while they sit in jail. “If there's one thing we actually got good at in the last couple of months, it’s sleeping outside.”
“Did you have a nice visit?” Khazak asks when I return from the visitation room now that the hour is over. He’s been kind enough to give me privacy when I meet with my friends.
“Yeah, it was good to see Adam.” It has sucked to not have my best friend around to talk to about...any of the stuff that’s been going on. “He’s in good spirits, but he’s always been pretty good at hiding when he's unhappy about something.”
“What about your other friend?” He’s still learning their names.
“Nate? He’s fine. And I told you, he’s not my friend.” I refuse to acknowledge that dick as anything more than an acquaintance. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“Of course.” He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder gently as we walk.
Unlike work, things between Khazak and me have been anything but boring. Not that the excitement has reached anywhere near the levels of crazy drama that first week held. Would you believe I only managed to get spanked once last week? It was my own fault. I let Ragnar, Khazak’s half-orc, half-elf best friend, talk me into pranking Khazak by swapping his regular ink for some that turns invisible fifteen minutes after being put on paper. He didn’t notice until he was writing a particularly long report and the top started to vanish before he had reached the bottom. He said he spanked me once for each field he had to re-fill out on each form. I didn't keep count, but it felt like it.
Outside of that, things have been great. You’d think after almost three weeks of waking up next to and spending the entire day with someone, I’d be sick of him, but we’ve been getting along swimmingly. Even when we do start to grate on each other, I’ll just go for a run around the city or hit the gym at the station for some “me” time. There’s not a whole lot to do around here aside from eating, reading, and exercising, but he always manages to find something to keep us occupied. Which is sometimes me. Safe to say I think I’m getting kind of good at that kind of stuff.
“Ready to pack for tomorrow?” Khazak asks when we arrive back at the house.
“Yep. Do you have a bag I can use?” I’m gonna need a lot of clothes for a whole week. “And do you have an extra bedroll?”
“Mine should be big enough for the both of us.” Khazak walks down the hall, turning into the spare room with me following.
“Your bag or your bedroll?” One of those makes more sense than the other.
“Both.” He opens the closet and pulls out a large bedroll attached to a sturdy looking leather backpack.
“My clothes are gonna fit in there?” It’s sizable but so is he—as are his clothes.
“No, this is filled with tools and supplies.” He slings it over one shoulder. “I meant my other bag.”
I look at him skeptically, assuming he's talking about the pouch he carries around when we go out. I’ve had my suspicions that there’s more to that bag than meets the eye, but I haven’t gotten confirmation. He snorts at the face I'm making, bringing his camping supplies into the bedroom and motioning for me to follow.
“This bag is much larger on the inside than it appears,” he tells me after placing the bedroll on the floor and grabbing his other bag. He turns to one of his clothing chests and grabs a large stack of shirts and pants, a pile larger than the bag itself. I then watch as he proceeds to put all of them into the bag, which bulges out a little, maybe. Not nearly as much as it should—it should have burst by now.
“I knew it,” I whisper to myself. Magic bag. I’ve seen them before. Well, I’ve seen one before, once. “Where did you get that?”
“A port city in the north.” He motions me over, holding the bag open so I can peer inside. “My sister and I made the journey there together. It is known as a ‘spacious satchel.’ I’ve had it over a decade.”
Looking in the top of the satchel is weird. It’s pitch black, like a void. I’m almost scared to put my hand in. “How does it work?”
“After you have put something inside, you simply need to picture it in your mind as you reach in to retrieve it,” he explains.
I give it a shot, picturing one of the shirts I just saw him put inside. The inside of the bag feels cool as I insert my hand, and suddenly my hand feels full. Pulling it out, I can see that I’m now holding the shirt in question. I repeat this with another shirt and a pair of pants. Then I try inserting my entire arm, touching the bottom of the outside of the bag with my other hand at the same time and ignoring the smirk I receive for my antics.
“That's awesome.” I would love to get my hands on one of these myself. It would be so useful for traveling. Not only does it give all that extra space, but anything inside is basically weightless. I could carry all sorts of equipment and loot in that thing.
“I trust this will suit our needs, then?” He hands me the satchel so that I can start adding in my own stuff.
“Perfectly, Sir.”
Khazak and I leave for the patrol the next day after lunch. We’re both in uniform, him carrying the bedroll and supplies while giving me the weightless bag holding our clothes and other items—I packed a couple of books in case it gets boring. He wasn’t going to let me carry anything else until I convinced him to at least let me hold his bow for him, so I have that strapped to my back with my sword scabbard.
The guards open the gates for us when we approach through some mechanism I don’t see, but I’m willing to bet is magic. They both salute the captain as he passes through, closing the large doors behind us once we are on the other side. Immediately, we are greeted by the sight of the forest. As we make our way forward, the trees around the city walls look larger than the rest, covering the wall hiding the city behind it. Their height seems to even out to normal levels fairly quickly as we move away, and you probably wouldn’t even notice if you didn't know what you were looking for. More magic or just good landscaping?
The forest is quiet aside from the occasional bird chirping or squirrel rustling the leaves. It’s so peaceful and untouched, despite the fact that there’s a city not even a mile away. There are no paths—that would probably defeat the purpose of the city being hidden—so it feels a little bit like we’re just wandering randomly through the woods. Khazak seems like he knows where he's going though, so I don't question it.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Okay, maybe I do. “I mean, are you doing this from memory, or is there some kind of trail I'm not seeing?”
“Afraid you might get lost?” Khazak muses as he looks over to me.
“No... Maybe.” The last time I was out here I ended up getting arrested so...
Khazak laughs and pulls me up to walk alongside him. “At this point, I could probably get to the campsite blindfolded if needed, but there are landmarks. Remember that large tree we passed a short while ago?”
I nod. “It looked like some of the branches were bent strangely.” Almost twisted together.
“We left the city through the west gate and walked two kilometers until we reached that tree.” That’s around one-and-a-quarter miles—my twin brother Michael would be proud at all the math I’ve been doing lately. “Then we turned northwest and have been walking another two kilometers looking for...that rock formation.”
He points to a pile of mossy boulders coming up on our left. The smooth surfaces tell me they’ve been here a while. The largest of the boulders sticks up from the center, almost making the pile resemble some sort of throne.
“From here it is another kilometer north until we reach a stream with a fallen tree spanning it, and then after a short hike northwest from there, we will be at the camp.” Khazak marches forward confidently as he speaks.
I nod, glad for the instructions. I’m not actually worried, but if for some reason I do have to make it back to the city on my own, at least I know how. I try to pay attention to how long it takes us to cover a kilometer at our speed; it’ll mean less math to do in my head later. I keep my eyes peeled for the stream in question, though I figure it will be pretty hard to miss. Unless the direction we’re going is completely wrong, we’ll have to cross it eventually.
I end up spotting the fallen tree before the stream. It would serve as a very useful bridge to cross if the stream wasn’t little more than a trickle. I barely have to jump to get to the other side. When we’re both across, Khazak leans back against the fallen log with his hands clasped in front of him, waiting for me to tell him where we need to go next. Easy. We were already walking north, but I look up at the sun's position just to verify.
“Camp is that way.” I point northwest from our position.
“Lead the way.” He pushes himself up.
“Oh, is this my job now?” Despite my words, I start walking in the direction of the camp.
“Merely testing your skills,” he defends as he follows.
“Uh-huh. You just wanna stare at my ass.” I’ve gotten a lot more confident in the flirting area (at least with a guy).
I hear a thoughtful hum from behind me but no denial. Yeah, he’s totally looking at my ass right now.
We’re only walking for a couple of minutes when I feel Khazak’s hand on my shoulder. “Wait.” He points ahead of us. In the distance, I see a figure walking away from us: a person. An orc. Must be one of the other rangers headed to the campsite.
Khazak lets out a noise from my left, something between a growl and a bark. It’s not loud, but it does make me jump. It also makes the orc ahead of pause and turn around, returning the noise and throwing an arm up to wave when they see us. They start walking back to meet us halfway.
“You didn’t just say something, right? That wasn’t a word?” Otherwise, learning this language is going to be even more complicated than I thought.
“No,” he chuckles. “Just a signal.”
Once we get closer, I recognize the orc. Not just from the station, but...shit he’s one of the orcs I fought in the ruins. The one who was slightly burned before I feinted his attack and uh, kicked him. He’s a little shorter than Khazak, and a little chubbier, with medium length brown hair and a beard but no mustache. His left tusk is gold, either plated or replaced, and his arms are covered in tattoos, way more than the crest on Khazak’s chest or the bands on his upper arms, probably more than I’ve seen on any other orc so far. Shit, what was his name? Ranger... Bighands. Nope, that’s not it. Widefingers? No, wait it’s— “Deepfist!”
Both orcs turn to look at me for my sudden outburst.
“That is my name.” The ranger in question leans in and leers at me, winking. “Maybe one day I can show you exactly why they call me that.”
“I—I—” I stammer, the implication of his words making my body flush immediately. Khazak had mentioned something about fists in passing the other day, and my morbid curiosity made me press him for the details of what exactly “fisting” was.
“Wow, Deputy Rockfang was not joking. It is easy to rile him up.” Deepfist pulls back, a smirk on his face.
“If you are quite done,” Khazak chides, but there’s no irritation in his words. Probably just mad he didn’t think of it himself first.
We resume walking toward the camp in silence. Comfortable for them but awkward for me.
“I’m still really sorry about the day in the temple ruins!” I blurt out after another minute or two.
Deepfist tilts his head at my second outburst. “No need to worry, kid. You are practically one of us now.” He smiles. “Besides, I was mostly over that once I saw you give the captain just as much trouble in the arena. Not bad for a human.”
“You were at the arena, too?” I really shouldn’t be surprised by that anymore.
“Pretty much every ranger not on duty was there,” he states like I should already know. “And the rest of the force was told the story in very graphic detail.”
“...Great.” You’d think after working with them for two weeks, I wouldn’t still get embarrassed learning someone was a witness to my very public fucking, but here I am, feeling too warm in my clothes. Going forward, maybe I should just assume anyone new I meet has already seen or heard about me having sex.
“Hey, I said I was impressed. Most of us were.” At least they’re not dicks about it. “Call me Arik.”
“...Thanks Arik.” Khazak gives my shoulder a squeeze as we walk. I’m looking ahead for signs of the camp, but all I see is more forest. Did I send us in the wrong direction? No, Deepfist was going this way too. Where the hell are we?
I jump back when a few yards ahead of us an orc just appears out of nowhere. Both orcs I’m walking with pause, but it’s more because of my reaction than the orc who apparently knows how to teleport. She’s dressed like a ranger, so I know she’s no danger, but fuck. The new orc waves at us as she passes, giving me a funny look but walking past as if nothing strange has happened.
“I forgot to tell him the campsites are camouflaged.” Khazak’s voice is full of realization.
“That would do it.” Deepfist chuckles.
“What the hell was that?” They must have pretty fucking good camo around here.
In response, after walking forward a little farther, Khazak sticks his arm out ahead of him, and everything up to his elbow disappears from sight. Oh, “camouflaged” with magic. It’s not something Nate or Corrine can do, but it’s a pretty common practice to protect a campsite from wild animals—or other intruders—when traveling outside. With another chuckle, Deepfist walks forward past Khazak and vanishes into thin air. Khazak tosses his head in the same direction, and as I walk over the threshold with him, a campsite appears where before there were only trees.
When my friends and I were first told there were “orc camps” in the area, this is a little closer to what we pictured. Around a large central campfire are several tents, eight total with two on opposite sides that are much larger than the rest. One of those is open air, and I can see four orcs congregated at a table under it. Deepfist is over near one of the smaller tents, probably putting away his things, but Khazak leads us over to the group.
“Captain.” A female orc dressed a little more officially than the rest—more like Khazak or his deputy Ragnar—stands and salutes on our approach. Which around here is done by clasping your fist over your chest. With black hair and brown eyes, she is as tall as the other orcs I’ve seen. Her left tusk is shorter than her right, like it was damaged, and the top has been smoothed out. She’s got a short, cropped haircut, honestly not that unlike Khazak. It suits her.
“Deputy Captain Keenguard.” Khazak returns the salute. This is his second deputy, the one that works out of the other ranger station. “Here to relieve you. Anything interesting to report?”
“Just another quiet week in the forest, sir.” She doesn’t sound too upset by that. “Afraid you had all the fun out here three weeks ago.” Her eyes fall on me. “This must be David.”
“I do not believe you have had the pleasure of meeting him yet.” Khazak half-turns to me. “David, this is Deputy Captain Morgal Keenguard.”
Morgal holds out her hand to me, and I reach for it, only remembering a split second after she grabs my wrist that they do handshakes differently around here too, and I’m pulled in for a quick hug, her other arm slapping my back. Oof.
“Nice to meet you, David. Sir.” With another salute, she hoists a large bag over her shoulders and makes her way out of the camp. I see the air around the camp’s border shimmer as she passes through, the air snapping back into place once she’s on the other side.
“Let me show you where our tent is.” Khazak calls my attention back to him, walking us around the campfire to one of the smaller tents—though it still looks slightly larger than the others.
“Is this tent bigger?” I ask as Khazak undoes the ties holding the opening flap down.
“Yes, by ten whole square meters!” He says it like I’ve won a prize.
“What did I do to earn such incredible accommodations?” I deadpan.
“Sleeping with the captain comes with perks,” he jokes, stepping inside and dropping his bag to the tent floor before stepping back out. “I am going to go speak with the rest of this week’s patrol unit. Please put our things away and then come find me there, pup.”
“Yes, Sir.” I can do that. The fact that it wasn’t a request isn’t lost on me. He’s gotten more confident with his orders in the last couple of weeks, and I don’t mind it. I like following orders, when they aren’t being given by a dickhead.
I put our weapons to one side and drop my bag in one corner. The tent isn’t very big, maybe ten-by-eight feet. The walls and floor are made of a thick leather attached to a sturdy wooden frame, the corners of which are buried to firmly anchor it to the ground. The poles go straight up for about five feet before bending at a point to meet in the middle. I can stand up alright towards the center, but the orcs probably need to crouch some.
First thing to take care of is the bedroll. I pick what I decide feels like the softest patch of earth under the tent floor and unfurl it, smoothing out the corners with my hands. I find a small pillow in the center, realizing now that we forgot to pack a second one. Dammit. I grab some of our clothes out of the smaller bag, making sure to keep them all neatly folded and stacked. I don’t think we need anything else, so I straighten up the bags and weapons, nodding to myself when I’m finished before stepping back outside.
I make my way over to the open tent where Khazak and Arik are standing with the other orcs. I don’t recognize two of them, but the third I’ve gotten to know pretty well—Glasha Silentfang. She smiles when she sees me, her short brown hair falling over the right side of her face. The left side of her hair is shaved, exposing the silver rings pierced into her right ear. Most orcs around here seem to have brown eyes, but she’s one of the few I’ve seen with green. I first met her when she helped me kick Khazak’s ass in a rug’bal game (it’s basically football) during my first week here. Since then, I’ve seen her at the station, where we’ve had lunch together, worked out together, even sparred a little. I like her a lot.
Khazak notices my approach and smiles, pulling me over to him. “For those of you who have not yet met my avakesh, this is David.” Khazak uses the title for me in his language that means something between slave, servant, and pet. You get used to it. “David, these are Officers Stonearm and Proudblade.”
“Hi.” I say much more meekly than I intend. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
Men of few words. Works for me.
“Over the next week, Rangers Silentfang, Deepfist, and I will periodically walk a patrol route through this section of the forest while the officers remain here and keep guard at the campsite,” Khazak instructs. Mostly me. Okay exclusively me, since everyone else obviously knows what they’re doing. “We will walk one more patrol today before it gets dark and we have dinner. Then we each take a two-hour shift, keeping watch overnight until morning.”
“Well, we do all that alone while you get a nice warm body to keep you company,” Deepfist half-jokes, half-gripes to my right.
“If you are so jealous, get one of your own, Arik.” Glasha rolls her eyes.
Noises behind me have me turning around, facing the other large tent across the campfire. When it opens, a small amount of smoke billows out as a sixth orc steps out to join our band. He looks different from the rest with no uniform to speak of, instead wearing brown robes that reach the forest floor. His long grey hair is matted, the individual locks adorned with jewelry that look to be made of bone and metal. His equally grey beard reaches his chest, and when he gets close, I can smell him. He doesn’t smell bad exactly, but well... Dude’s been out here a while. He speaks to the group, and not in Common, so I just nod politely.
“David, this is Wu’dag Bonespirit, the camp’s resident shaman.” That’s what that smell is. “He is responsible for creating and maintaining the wards and illusions in this part of the forest.”
A shaman is a natural spellcaster, like a druid or a witch. They get their spellcasting powers from a connection to the world around them—the whole “magic is everywhere” deal. All natural casters can see and communicate with nature spirits, but shamans’ abilities allow them to connect to them directly, able to channel and amplify the spirits' powers with their own. I know all this because Mike used to go on and on about random magical info.
“So, this is one of the little shits I felt a few weeks back.” Wu’dag gives me a once over. “Scrawnier than I expected.”
“I’m working on it.” I’ll show him a little shit…wait.
“Huh.” The older orc steps closer, squinting his eyes as he peers at me. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a weird aura, kid?”
“...Not exactly.” They didn’t use the word weird. “My twin is a wizard. I’ve got um...” Shit, what did that woman from the elven institute call it? “Latent magical potential. All my siblings do, but me a little more. It rubbed off on me, or we share enough of the same genes or something?”
I’m not doing a very good job of explaining it, but it basically means that while I can’t use magic to cast spells, I still have some flicker of it inside me. It’s like having the flint but no fuel for a fire. There’s no way to “turn on” the magic because there’s nothing to turn on; it just is what it is. Nowadays, it doesn’t mean much since most magical items are configured to work for anyone, but it used to be that they’d have to be powered, or at least activated, by the magic of the person wielding them. A spark to light the flame.
“Huh.” He squints again. “Yeah, I guess that could do it. Looks like we need an extra compass stone.” He stands up straight and turns to the rest of the group. “Alright, stones out. Time to sync up.”
All of the orcs around me, including the shaman, reach into their pockets and pull out smooth red-colored stones, no more than an inch or two wide. They gather in a circle, hands outstretched, clutching the stones together. The shaman takes his free hand and holds it aloft over them, slowly chanting a spell. I see Wu’dag’s eyes glow first followed by the stone in his hand, then I see the same glow coming from each of the others’ enclosed palms.
“This is for him.” Wu’dag drops the stone he held in Khazak’s open palm. “I will be in my tent if you need me.”
“Alright, David and I will take the first patrol, then Glasha, then Arik.” Khazak speaks to his troops. “See you back here for dinner.”
Everyone salutes and disperses, Khazak turning to me. “We will fill our waterskins and grab our equipment, then head out. We will be walking for at least a couple of hours.”
My eyes go wide. Hours? Wow, okay. We go back to the tent and retrieve our weapons and a pair of waterskins from Khazak’s supply bag. After filling them at a barrel under the big tent, we start to walk away from camp. I see the illusion warble as we pass through it, and a glance behind us reveals nothing but the forest. We walk for a while, not following any sort of path that I’m able to pick up on. I try to look for landmarks like before but don’t see anything. We go straight for a while before turning in another direction. We do this for a while in silence before I finally need to ask.
“Are we following an actual route here?” My voice ringing out in the quiet forest almost sounds wrong.
“Hmmm.” Khazak smiles, considering me for a moment. “Yes and no. There is a general path we are following, but we have a lot of leeway. We need to cover a certain amount of ground, and sticking too much to the same path might make it easy for someone to slip by.”
“Is that something you have to worry about a lot?” It seems like they’ve been doing this for years.
“Not really, but we do not want to get complacent.” He turns to me and smirks. “Cannot have someone raiding our ancient temples.”
I roll my eyes at the obvious dig. That was one time! We continue walking in relative silence. It’s nice though. After spending these past weeks together, the two of us have gotten pretty comfortable around each other. Plus, seeing as this is a patrol, spending the whole time talking would be distracting and kind of defeat the point.
“I was curious...” The sun is starting to set when Khazak breaks the silence between us. “Does it still bother you when people bring up the arena and ritual? Our match?”
“I wouldn’t say it bothers me, exactly.” I’ve gotten over that part of it, at least. “It can just be a little embarrassing when I think I’m meeting someone new, and it turns out they were a witness to me very publicly losing my virginity.”
“Would you like me to say something?” It’s a genuine request. Despite what he says, I know there are some aspects of the way we “met” that he still feels guilty over.
“No, I know they don’t mean anything by it.” I can handle the teasing. I know it's not malicious.
“Alright, another question. Was that truly your first time?” It’s not an accusation; there’s a measure of concern in his voice betraying why he’s asking. “Not that I have any reason to doubt you. I just know by the time I was your age I had already experimented quite a bit with both men and women.”
“I mean, you know I had girlfriends. I did a lot of kissing back in the day, and I’ve touched more than my fair share of tits over dresses. But no,” I shake my head, “you’ve been my first for everything else.”
“I see.” He’s trying not to, but I can hear a little disappointment. “I feel I need to apologize. Your first time should have been more—”
“Hey, come on. We’ve been through this already.” I turn to face him, walking backward. “Not only were we both tricked, I ended up liking it anyway. Plus, as screwed up as it was, you can’t say it wasn't memorable, right?”
“I suppose you are correct,” Khazak huffs, begrudgingly agreeing with me. This has been a minor sticking point for us. He continues to relive his guilt over what happened—him basically ravishing me in an arena full of strangers—while I would just prefer to move on.
“What was your first time like?” I jump at the chance to change the subject. I’ve never actually heard him talk about anyone in his past like that before.
“Awkward and hurried. And a little painful.” Khazak shakes his head as he recalls. “I think we were fifteen? Me and another boy from school. We were in my bedroom, and somehow the house was empty. We had no idea what we were doing.”
“Painful, huh?” I know that feeling.
“Yes, but not for the reason you are thinking,” he gripes. “He was very...enthusiastic about oral sex. Too enthusiastic. He sucked me so hard, he gave me... I think you call them ‘hickeys’ on the head of my cock.”
I can’t hold in the guffaw that flies out of my mouth and quickly clamp both my hands over it. “He left hickeys on your dick?!”
“Several,” he deadpans. “He took the ‘sucking’ very literally—” Khazak cuts himself off, eyes going a little wide. “David, do not move.”
I freeze in place. What?!
“Everything is okay. Just stay still.” Khazak’s hands are out toward me, but he doesn’t look panicked. “Look down. Just behind you.”
I slowly peer downward as requested, and right behind my left foot is a plant, a dark purple flower, maybe a foot high. Actually, there’s a whole patch of them.
“What is it?”
“A very poisonous flower known as ‘Ralor’s crown,’” Khazak speaks calmly. “You have not touched it yet. Just step over to me carefully.”
I nod slowly, moving away from the flower patch. I see now the way each of the petals bloom out then curl back in, each flower resembling a small purple crown.
“What does it do?” I ask when I’m safely away.
“In its current form, it would leave you with a very unpleasant rash before making you feel sluggish and causing your muscles stop responding correctly.” He looks down at my legs to make sure there’s nothing on them. “The real danger comes when it is processed into a poison. That increases its potency tenfold, enough to kill a person.”
“Fuck, and it just grows out here?” Seems like a bad plant to keep around.
“It is native to the area, but we do not normally allow it to grow so near the city. It is too dangerous.” He eyes the patch suspiciously. “This must have cropped up recently.”
It is spring, time for plants to start growing. “What do we do about it?”
“You and I will do nothing, but once we get back to camp, we will let Shaman Bonespirit know so that he can take care of it.” Makes sense. Plants are probably that guy’s whole deal.
“Sounds good.” We have been walking a while now. “Is it time to head back yet?”
“Yes, actually.” Khazak doesn’t move though, instead reaching into his pocket. “Here, this is yours.”
He hands me one of the red rocks from earlier, the compass stone Wu’dag handed him for me. He then takes a few steps away from me. “Hold it in your fist and stretch your hand toward me.”
I do as asked, and the stone in my hand begins pulsing in a steady rhythm. I drop my hand and the pulsing stops, only to return when I point my fist at Khazak again.
“The stones are all linked. When one is held and pointed in the direction of another, it pulses.” He takes out his own stone to show me. “The stronger the pulse, the closer the target stone. Try and see if you can find camp.”
“Okay.” I turn to the direction I think camp is, holding the stone out in front of me. I slowly scan it across the horizon until I feel it vibrate in my hand, and I freeze. It starts to beat steadily, but much more slowly than it did with Khazak. “I think I found it.”
“Glasha and Arik would have left for their own patrols by now, so it could easily be one of them. Keep looking, and see if you can tell the difference.”
I nod, happy to prove that I know what I'm doing. I keep using the stone to scan the horizon line, finding two more pulsing beat patterns. One feels almost as slow as the first, but the second is a little stronger. It’s also in between the other two, so that has to be it.
“Okay, got it this time.” I turn to Khazak, confident in my answer.
“Lead the way, pup.”
It’s nearly dark by the time we get back to the campsite. I see the two officers and Wu’dag seated around the campfire, some meat cooking over the fire. My stomach growls at the smell, hungrier than I realized.
“Welcome back.” Wu’dag greets us with the officers as we join them by the campfire. “Anything out of the ordinary?”
“Actually, yes.” Khazak frowns. “We found a patch of Ralor’s crown about five kilometers north.”
“Huh. I just cleared out a patch of that last week.” Wu’dag frowns. “I will take care of it first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you, friend.” Khazak nods, the two of us joining the group, and I groan happily when I take my seat on a log by the fire. I’ve done more walking today than I have in three weeks.
Glasha returns about half an hour later, then Arik another half hour after that, and the seven of us sit down for dinner—which ends up being some rabbits the two officers caught while we were patrolling, a signal of what future meals out here may be like. I’ve had rabbit before; it's not bad. Plus, by now I’ve learned to trust the orcs of Tah’lj and their cooking.
The rest of the night is quiet. After eating, the orcs hang around the fire and swap stories from their weeks. Glasha has her sword out, applying oil to it slowly as she listens to Arik talk about a barfight he broke up two nights ago. I join the two of them, happy to prove to Khazak I know how to take care of my equipment. I see Khazak disappear with Wu’dag into his tent for a minute at one point, but then he’s back out and sitting next to me by the campfire. After a couple of hours of this, everyone heads into the tents to sleep except Khazak and me, ready for the first round of watch.
“It’s kinda nice being able to do this with someone else,” I speak low, not wanting to disturb anyone sleeping. The only noises are the crackling of the wood in the campfire and the chirping of the crickets in the forest. We can relax a little more now than when we were on patrol. Me and my friends would do the same thing when on the road, but with five of us, we always had to do it alone. We also didn’t have any magical illusions to help hide us.
“It is.” Khazak smiles as he adds another log to the first to keep it going. “Having you here all week with me will be nice.”
“And will make Arik jealous,” I joke.
“Can you blame him?” Khazak walks over to where I'm sitting, standing in front of me. He gently takes a hold of my chin, stroking his thumb over my lip. “I certainly do not plan to keep my hands off of you.”
My breath hitches a little as the words pass through me, heating something familiar in my stomach. I’m nearly eye level with his crotch, and I can already see a familiar lump starting to form. I look up at his eyes, heavy with lust.
Then a cough rings out from one of the tents, and I remember we’re not actually alone. I stumble back from his hold, falling off the back of the log with a thud. When I look up, I see Khazak with one hand over his mouth, struggling to hold in his laughter. He reaches out with the other to help me up, clearing his throat when he's finished and mumbling an apology.
After that a display of nerves, he doesn’t try to make another move, and two hours later, we wake up Arik for his watch shift. The orc bids us goodnight as we crawl into our own tent, Khazak first. We undress, though not fully nude like we would at home—never know when you might have to get up at a moment's notice—and Khazak slides into the bedroll, holding it open for me to follow. I curl into his side, resting my head on his shoulder. Since we didn’t pack a second pillow, he can be my pillow.
“Sleep well, David.” Khazak turns his head to kiss the top of mine. “We have a busy day tomorrow.”
I nuzzle against him, too tired to reply, the sounds of the crickets in the night air already putting me to sleep.
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