The Death of Promises

9

E ntrances into the Vile Wedge were few. The Citadel had guarded the lower portions of the rivers when it had still stood, preventing the dangerous inhabitants within from crossing by boats. No bridges remained across the bone ditch, the orcs name for the great chasm lining the eastern side. Scouts for Mordan sailed down the Rigon river on the west, reporting to the wall of towers than stretched for miles and miles. But to one skilled with dark magic, even the challenge of the giant rivers proved surmountable.

“Have you even been inside the wedge?” Velixar asked as they stared at the slowly flowing river, whose surface reflected back the stars in a beautiful display. Qurrah and Tessanna both shook their heads as they stood beside him.

“Marvelous place,” the man in black said, smiling. “The orcs rule the majority, but it is a tenuous hold. Hyena-men, wolf-men, goblins, even the bird-men have their places, all castaways from the great war. They were made by the gods, then forgotten when their usefulness ended. But it is time to end their chaos.”

He turned to Tessanna. “My lady, would you be so kind as to grant us passage across?”

“But, I’m not…” She stared at the opposite shore over two hundred feet away. “I don’t know if I can.”

Qurrah felt a spike of jealousy as Velixar put a hand on her shoulder her and gently nudged her closer to the water.

“You are as powerful as you are beautiful,” he said. “And if you do not know if you can, then it is time you learned. You are the daughter of a goddess. Your limits are your own to discover…and then exceed.”

Tessanna looked back to Qurrah, who only nodded.

“Very well,” she said. “I could float us across, but you know that. This is a test. I don’t like tests.”

“My apologies, but I do,” Velixar said.

Tessanna laughed.

“Aren’t you so polite.” Wisps of white ether floated like smoke from her hands. Velixar stepped beside Qurrah and whispered to him as a sudden wind screamed in from the south.

“How much have you seen of her power?” he asked him.

“More than enough,” Qurrah replied.

“No,” Velixar said. “There is never enough. There is always more.”

Tessanna’s black hair danced in the wind. Her hands spread wide, the white mist growing thicker and swirling around her fingers. She let out a tiny moan as her body lifted a foot off the ground, and her head arched back as she let loose her power. With a savage cry, she slammed her hands together. A white beam sliced through the river, accompanied by a great roar of moving water. She spread her hands. The ground shook. The river growled and tossed. And then a pathway opened, dry and barren.

“She could do more,” Velixar whispered as both stood in awe. “And I will push her to it, whether she wants me to or not.”

The blocked river tried to overflow its banks, but Tessanna curled her fingers and enclosed it. A white wall blocked both sides, stretching to the sky. The magical dam captured the water and pressed it ever higher. Despite the enormous power of the river, the girl walked through the pathway she had made with little sign of exhaustion.

“Don’t hurt her,” Qurrah said before walking through. “Just don’t hurt her.”

“I promise.” Velixar pulled his hood low and followed. “And I keep my promises.”

When they reached the other side, Tessanna turned and smiled.

“Wave bye-bye to the river,” she said. Before either could react, she relaxed her body. The white wall vanished. The roar of the water was deafening as it collapsed downstream, overloading the banks and crushing trees that grew along its edge. The girl giggled at the destruction she caused.

“I may not like tests,” she said, “but that was fun.”

Velixar once again placed his hand on her shoulder and led her on. “Truly magnificent,” he said.

I t was Velixar’s decision that they travel by day. Secrecy was no longer necessary. For two days they followed the river north. At the start of the third day, Velixar revealed a portion of his plan.

“There are three main orc tribes,” he explained as they walked. “The Mug tribe is the biggest, followed by the Dun and the Glush tribes. A fourth tribe, however, has sworn off worshiping animals. Somehow they learned of their elven heritage and now worship Celestia, hoping the goddess will remove the curse that poisons their blood. They are a blasphemy against Karak and must be dealt with accordingly.”

They came upon a crude banner made of two sharpened sticks thrust together in the dirt. Draped over the front was what appeared to be the skin of a wolf.

“We’ve entered their territory,” Velixar said. “It won’t be long before we find one of their camps.”

“Why a wolf skin?” Qurrah asked as they passed by the banner.

“The wolf-men to the north often raid their homes for food. The orcs here use their skin to make their banners, blankets, and huts.”

Tessanna started laughing.

“Bad doggie,” she said as they passed by a similar banner. When both men gave her a funny look, she only laughed louder, the sound hollow among the quiet, dangerous land.

They traveled over the dry, yellow grass, until the encampment was within sight.

“There,” Velixar said, pointing. “Karak has whispered of them for many years, but at last I see them with my own eyes.”

Hundreds of tents covered the nearby hills. On each and every one was a triangle. Two lines stretched outward from the bottom. A tree, Qurrah realized. Drawn in the blood of animals was a tree, the old symbol the elves used for Celestia. For the first time Qurrah saw orc females, their sex no longer hidden behind heavy war armor. Their breasts were flat, and more muscle than milk. Children ran about, wrestling and playing games with rocks and toys carved from wood. In the center of the camp was a tent far larger than the others, with red trees on each side of the entryway.

“How have they not been conquered by the other tribes?” Qurrah asked.

“That is the mystery,” Velixar said. He licked his lips. “Somehow they have held off any and all attacks. The other tribes talk of how a goddess protects them. This sort of blasphemy is dangerous, my disciple. It changes the order of things and renders the land even more chaotic. Follow me. We will show them their place.”

Velixar walked down the hill, his arms held at his sides in an apparent gesture of peace. Guards lined the exterior of the camp, and when they spotted him they raised a ruckus in their native tongue. Orcs flocked together. Qurrah and Tessanna approached, hand in hand. The half-orc had never felt more conscious of his gray skin. He could feel his tainted blood coursing within him, and for the first time he saw their civilization.

“I could have been their god,” he whispered. “Their deity.”

“And I could be a goddess in any place I choose,” Tessanna whispered. “But that is not my place in this world, and these huts are not yours.”

A wall of spears surrounded them. Velixar halted, his hands still held high and wide. His hood had fallen low to cover his eyes, but beneath lingered his smile. Beyond the ring of orcs Qurrah saw women holding their young, watching. He was shocked when he realized many of them were praying.

A particularly large orc broke through the ring and shouted at Velixar in the orcish tongue. The man in black laughed and then spoke back in the same guttural language. The orc seemed surprised at this, and began questioning those around him.

“What is going on,” Qurrah asked.

Before Velixar could answer, the big one turned toward the giant tent and shouted the same word three times.

“Darnela! Darnela! Darnela!”

“Darnela?” Tessanna asked.

“At last I understand,” Velixar said, his grin growing. “An elf priestess of Celestia came and tamed them. She’s filled their head with dogma of forgiveness and pathetic begging in hopes of revoking of their orcish blood. Keep ready, both of you. I find it unlikely we will get along.”

In the distance they saw a sleek feminine form exit the main tent. She wore a cloak made of wolf skin. Her tunic and breeches were made of leather. She carried a scepter in one hand and a jeweled sphere in the other. She seemed a strange cross of elf and orc, elegance and roughness. All throughout the camp, orcs parted to grant her passage, bowing their heads as she passed.

“She’s beautiful,” Tessanna said.

“Yes,” Velixar said. “And as dangerous as she is beautiful. I know this one. She has changed her name since we last met.”

Qurrah felt his whip curling on his arm, bits of flame flickering from it even though he gave it no such order. Tessanna chewed on her fingernails as the girl approached. She had long hair, so long that it floated past the small of her back and beyond the length of her wolf head cloak. It was a dark brown, the same color as her eyes. When she saw Velixar, a frown marred her beautiful face. The last of the orcs parted, and she stood before the trespassers to her camp.

“Greetings, Fionn,” Velixar said, bowing low. “It has been too long since we last met.”

The scepter shook in the elven priestess’s hand.

“I am Darnela now,” she said. “Do you bring your war and hatred to my orcs? They seek peace, dark prophet, and forgiveness from the goddess. We are not interested in whatever sins you bring.”

“Your name used to be beautiful and pure,” Velixar said, ignoring her question. “Yet you now claim a name meaning war and anger, all while preaching peace to the orcs, Celestia’s cursed and abandoned?”

Qurrah winced as the whip tightened so much that his fingers tingled from the pressure. He dared not remove it, though, not with so many orcs with spears and swords desperate to attack.

“Be gone,” she said. “Karak’s taint is leaving their blood. We all see it plain as day.”

“Indeed,” Velixar said. Still grinning. “The…taint…is leaving.”

Darnela took a step closer, glaring at the visage beneath the black hood.

“I swore to kill you, and I did,” she said. “Celestia forgive me for thinking you would give Dezrel a gift and stay dead. Now leave.”

“Qurrah,” Velixar suddenly shouted. “Show our beautiful hostess here your weapon.”

Slowly the half-orc let the whip uncurl and fall into his hand. The leather pooled upon the grass and then burst into flame. He watched Darnela’s face, and he saw her rage grow. All around, the wall of orcs grew larger as guards from every corner of the camp gathered.

“I also made a promise,” Velixar said. “I would use your husband’s whip to return the favor for what you did to me. But not yet. You think these orcs your pets? You think they believe what you feed their minds? I speak the truth, Darnela, and even these shallow beings can feel and understand that.”

He turned his back to her and gestured to the crowd. His voice boomed impossibly loud, every word he spoke thundering in the ears of those who heard.

“Orcs of the wedge, hear me! I am Velixar, and I speak with the voice of Karak himself!”

“Silence,” Darnela shouted. The man in black turned and glared at her. For a moment they stared, their eyes locked. When the priestess did not attack, Velixar continued his shouting. Qurrah noticed he shouted in the common tongue of man, yet the orcs appeared to understand.

“What you have been told is true. You were once elves. You were cursed by the elven goddess, but that curse did not make you what you are today! Karak gave you the strength that saved you from extinction. Karak bound you together for war, and through him you crushed your enemies and fought for a place in this world. You feel that strength fading now, don’t you? It is Celestia who cursed you, Celestia who abandoned you, and now you cry out to her like a dog licking the boot that just kicked it?”

All around orcs began shouting, some in defiance of what he said, others in response to their old bloodlust stirring. As Qurrah looked around, he could see Velixar spoke truth. Few orcs were as muscled as the orcs he had watched assault Veldaren years ago.

“Do not listen,” Darnela shouted, magically strengthening her own voice as well. “He is a speaker of lies, a preacher of death. He would make you kill for his own gains, and when you died he would bring back your bones to fight again. He is chaos, he is slaughter, and he is the reason your kind was first cursed by the goddess!”

More shouting, more posturing with crude weapons. Tessanna clutched tightly to Qurrah’s waist as she glanced about.

“I’m scared,” she said, her face buried into his shoulder.

“Just stupid beasts with sticks,” Qurrah told her. “You can defeat every one of them with a lift of your finger.”

“But they’re all scared,” she said. “They’re hurt, they’re confused, and they don’t know what to believe. The goddess weeps for them, Qurrah, can’t you hear it?”

“I come offering what your kind has always embraced,” Velixar continued. “I offer you war against those who drove you to this wretched land. You act as if your blood is a curse, but I call it a boon. Embrace your strength! Embrace your bloodlust! Darnela seeks only to pacify you and make you weak!”

“He lies!” Darnela shouted.

“Remember her own lessons! Let them show my truth! She wanted you to throw down your weapons, end your fighting, and turn away from all you once knew. You are a stone’s throw away from being massacred by wolf-men, hyena-men, even the weakest of the goblin tribes. The elves have always wanted you dead. They know they cannot do it in war. But if they poison you from within? Look at yourselves, warriors of Karak, look at yourselves!”

Tessanna began to weep as a deep rumbling swept the camp. Darnela herself sensed the change. She had worked valiantly to redeem the souls to the goddess. She had preached over and over forgiveness and humility. And now, at the booming words of the man in black, it would crumble.

“You will die one day,” the elf said to him. “And when that day comes I hope to look down from Celestia’s paradise and laugh at your torment in the fire and darkness.”

“Should that day come,” Velixar said, his voice back to its normal volume, “I will rule as a prince. And even there I will seek to break the will of the goddess and storm your wretched home.”

“Make them stop,” Tessanna whimpered. “Please, Qurrah, make them stop.”

“You will be buried underneath a wave of those you sought to make docile,” Velixar said. He smirked at Darnela’s anger. “Fitting, don’t you agree?”

The priestess slammed her scepter and orb together. Flames consumed both, and a yellow pillar of fire fell from the sky. Orcs scrambled away as the pillar consumed her, swirling about her body as she prayed ceaselessly to her goddess.

“Kneel to me,” Velixar shouted. “All who bow and confess their lives to Karak will live. Those who refuse will die by my hand!”

Dark magic swirled around his hands. He kissed the air as Darnela prepared her assault.

“Hold yourself together,” Qurrah said, grabbing his lover by the arms. “What is the matter with you?”

“No!” Tessanna screamed, shoving him aside. She leapt in between Velixar and Darnela. Her right hand faced the elf, the left pointed directly at the man in black. She looked each in the eye as the orcs cried out in anger and confusion. Pure magical essence curled around her fingers, throbbing with her heartbeat.

“If either of you moves I will leave nothing but dust for the wind to spread,” she said. Wisps of black smoke floated from the corners of her eyes.

“Of course, my lady,” Velixar said, seeming unsurprised by her actions.

“Are you mad, girl?” Darnela asked. Her hair danced inside her pillar of fire. “Do you know what he is? You travel with him, yet still defy his will?”

“I don’t need to know,” she answered. “Let those who believe Velixar’s words leave your camp in peace. The rest may stay under your command. Is this clear?”

“I accept your proposal,” Velixar said, bowing. “Not your command.”

For the first time a bit of anger flickered in his eyes, but Tessanna was unconcerned. She looked to the elf as the magic on her fingers crackled with dark lightning.

“Do you accept?” she asked her.

“You are a disgrace to the goddess,” Darnela said, her jaw clenched tight. “But I will accept. Take the faithless and go.”

Velixar looked around the camp. Almost half the orcs knelt, their heads bowed as the others nearby beat them and cursed the prayers they prayed. The man in black lifted his hands and called out to them.

“Come east, children of Karak. Abandon your weakness, for it is your blood that shall unite the tribes against Neldar!”

Hundreds of orcs took up their possessions and did as they were told. Tessanna remained between the two powerful casters until the stream of orcs had fully left the camp.

“I will see you again, Darnela,” Velixar said as he bowed. “I still have a favor to repay you.”

The priestess only turned and stormed off, the pillar of flame dissipating into fading embers in the air. When she was far enough away, Tessanna closed her hands and let go of the spells she had prepared. Velixar immediately grabbed her by the wrist.

“We will talk,” he said, his red eyes seething.

“I know,” she replied almost casually. He let her go and stormed away. Qurrah took her in his arms, holding her as her resolve vanished.

“Shush,” he said, stroking her hair as he guided her east. “You did no wrong here.”

“I know,” she said, drying her tears against his robe. “But I risk what we have when I do this. He needs me, and he needs you, but he’s patient, Qurrah. So patient, so dangerous.”

“Why’d you do it, then?” he asked her. She looked up to him, kissed his lips, and then held his hand as they walked. She did not answer.

“Very well,” Qurrah said. “I do not need to know the reason. I will still defend your choice to my death.”

“I know,” she said, gripping his hand tighter. “But it’s good to hear you say it anyway.”

V elixar was no stranger to leading armies, especially one made of orcs. They had little supplies, no food, and over three hundred mouths to feed. If they were to survive, they had to pillage. He marched throughout his small army, shouting and encouraging. He knew he needed a warchief, so he looked for the biggest and the strongest. He found his perfect candidate in a one armed mountain of muscle named Gumgog. His eyes were yellow, and his nose flattened upward like a pig.

“Celly wanted us to be nice,” he said when Velixar asked why he left Darnela’s camp. “Gumgog don’t like to be nice. Gumgog like smashing, so you let me smash, me lead like you say.”

Velixar grinned, liking the orc already. Where his arm had once been was now a giant club with a stone tied to the end. To call attention to himself, Gumgog took the second ‘arm’ in his other hand and used his entire body to slam it to the ground.

“GUMGOG SPEAK!” he shouted, and all around orcs quit their squabbles to listen. Velixar laughed. He had traveled with several warchiefs, some appointed by him, others already in power when he enlisted their service. He easily liked Gumgog the most.

“We going to the Mugs,” Gumgog shouted to the three hundred. “We going to make them help us, maybe swear allegiance to us. Then we go to the Duns and the Glushes, and make them do the same! We make an army, and we follow the human in black. All hear me?”

When an orc near him raised a hand to speak, Gumgog gripped his giant club and swung in a great heaving motion that used his entire waist and chest. The stone connected against the orc’s skull with a giant crack. The limp body flew ten feet before crumpling along the grass.

“Any others need help hearing me?” Gumgog bellowed. No help needed. All understood.

W e can travel at least a day without food,” Velixar said as he joined Qurrah and Tessanna by their fire. “I’ve got several hunting and butchering any animals we find, but the wedge is pitiful for living off the land. However, that should buy us time until we reach the first of the Mug camps.”

“Who leads them?” Qurrah asked.

“Lummug,” Velixar said. “At least, he did last I was here. You never know with orcs, do you?” The man in black chuckled. “No, and you never know about how children of a goddess will react either. You cost me troops, Tessanna. Even worse, you went against my will.”

“I never swore my life to you,” Tessanna said. She sounded sleepy, and her eyes drooped as she stared at the fire. “I swore it to Qurrah. And how many troops did you lose? A hundred? Two?”

Velixar narrowed his eyes.

“Those that died I would have brought back,” he said. “At least six hundred would march by my side.”

“How many orcs are there in all the tribes?” Tessanna asked. “How many thousands? You whine like a child.”

She laid her head against Qurrah’s shoulder and closed her eyes. The half-orc looked to his master, trying to gauge how much of his anger was truth and how much was bluster. He doubted Velixar had ever been challenged as he had been by Tessanna.

“Will the other tribes swear allegiance to you?” Qurrah asked, hoping to shift the topic of the conversation.

“In times past I have enlisted the aid of their warchief to keep the orcs in line. The time for such trickery is past. The orcs will swear their loyalty to me, and Karak, or they will die.” He pointedly looked at Tessanna. “Does that please our princess?”

The girl smiled.

“Yes, master, but don’t worry about pleasing me, I’m here to please you. Isn’t that right, Qurrah?”

The half-orc stammered an unintelligible response. Tessanna laughed and buried her face into his robes. Velixar stood and turned his back to them, and in the light of the fire he seemed a hunched, angered demon.

“Sleep well. The Mug tribe will not follow, not until we show them our strength. You will kill tomorrow, both of you. Be ready for it.”

“Yes, master,” Qurrah said.

“And Qurrah…” Velixar shifted his head. “There is a world beyond you and your lover. Never forget that.”

He left them to the dwindling light of the fire.

T essanna’s arms were empty when she awoke. She pushed herself up on her elbow and glanced around. The morning was still early, with only a sliver of the sun climbing above the horizon. The orcs were still asleep.

“Qurrah,” she asked, rubbing away the tiredness from her eyes. She saw a hunched form far from the camp, sitting cross-legged with his back to her. She stood, pulled her thin clothing tight about her, and started walking. In the cold she could easily see her breath. The sky was gray and overcast. She wondered if it would snow.

The lone figure shifted, and as she neared she could see it was Qurrah busy reading Velixar’s journal. Her slender mouth frowned at the sight of him, cold and shivering with the book on his lap.

“You should be by a fire,” she told him. The half-orc looked up from his reading.

“The cold helps me focus,” he said. “Velixar was right, Tessanna. That damn specter’s always been right.”

She sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“What’s bothering you, love?”

“I’ve become passive,” he said, slamming the book shut. “I do as commanded, as expected. I disappoint him.”

“That’s easy to fix,” she said, brushing away his bangs to kiss his forehead. “Take charge. Give your opinion, whether he wants it or not. You are no fool and no weakling. Even the wisest would listen to your advice.”

“I plan on doing more than that,” Qurrah said as they stood together. “Much more.”

He returned to the camp. In her heart she wanted to follow, but she knew Qurrah needed to find the answer on his own. The life he had shared with Velixar was unknown to her. So she stayed and watched the sun rise, letting the little warmth it offered seep into her pale skin and sad black eyes.

North of the camp Velixar waited, also watching the rise of the sun. He sensed Qurrah’s approach but did not acknowledge him.

“Where is the next camp?” Qurrah asked. The man in black crossed his arms and remained quiet. “I asked where is it?”

“Several miles north. About four hundred orcs, just a pittance of the Mug tribe’s numbers. Why do you ask?”

“When we arrive I will recruit them. I know what will make them bow.”

“I have led many armies, Qurrah,” Velixar said, raising an eyebrow. “And I have had thousands of orcs swear allegiance as my puppets. Have you?”

“I have the blood of orcs in my veins,” the half-orc said. “And I will make them respect it. They will swear to you, all of them.”

“They will swear to Karak,” Velixar corrected.

“I don’t care. I don’t do this for him.”

The man in black chuckled and gestured back to the camp.

“Yes, I know. You do it for her. For Tessanna. Whether she wants it or not.”

“She does,” Qurrah insisted.

“How many will you kill to heal her mind?” Velixar continued. “You would sacrifice this entire world just for that? And what happens, Qurrah? What happens when Karak comes and rids her of the child, of the apathy, of the wild animal? Will you recognize the girl that remains? Will the lives you have ruined be justified?”

The half-orc glared at Velixar, meeting the burning red eyes without fear.

“You question what I do? You question the very acts you yourself wish me to commit?”

“It is not the end, Qurrah, it is the means that matters!” Velixar insisted. “It is what we do, every bit of it, that defines who we are. I do not want you as my disciple if your allegiance to Karak is only of convenience.”

He quieted as he turned back to the sunrise. Qurrah looked to the ground, remembering what he had told his brother when he questioned their killing of children. Take pride in everything you do, he had told him. So did he take pride in what he did now, marching alongside orcs in a campaign to release a war god into his world?

“You were so promising,” Velixar said, breaking their silence. “For a time you saw what Karak offered. Everything you have now, Karak gave you. All you desired was power and the skill to use it, and I gave you both. In my absence you lost your way. You’ve succumbed to womanly flesh, forgetting that it is a pleasure, not a purpose.”

“What is it you want from me?” Qurrah asked.

Velixar turned, and the force in his eyes sent Qurrah to one knee.

“I want you at my side, but not for her. Not to mend a mind that is beautiful in its chaos. I want you to relish, and worship, every second of what you and I are, and what we are meant to do. You once relished the thought of Neldar burning. I want you to feel that excitement once more.”

“What of my brother?” Qurrah dared asked.

“Ashhur has corrupted him. I made a choice, him or you. You were always my disciple, and he, your bodyguard. Without you I have no need of him. So I chose you.”

The half-orc stood, a sudden fear piercing his gut. He met Velixar’s gaze.

“What do you mean you made a choice?” he asked, his voice nearly shaking with kindling rage.

“I killed Harruq’s child,” he said. Each word pierced Qurrah like a burning arrow. “I sent her into the woods and told her to play. It needed to be done.”

“You?” Qurrah said, his fists shaking. “You turned my brother against me. You tore apart our lives like we were your playthings!”

“I did it with a heavy heart!” Velixar shouted back. “I had to make you see what you yourself were in danger of becoming. Harruq turned his back on Karak. I would not lose you as well.”

A terrible silence fell between them. Qurrah felt all he knew flailing in a cyclone. He remembered the pain on Tessanna’s face, and how she had shrieked against him in her sorrow.

“Do you understand now,” Velixar asked. “Aullienna died because you thought of nothing else but your lover. You felt your end justified your means, but the truth is your actions should justify themselves. I will kill thousands, but I do it for my god, without remorse, without pity. You will kill as many, but what phantom do you do it for?”

“You think me a disappointment,” Qurrah said, his soft voice gradually rising in anger and volume. “But I will show you the strength I have gained. When we reach the camp, I will make them bow and serve Karak. I will not cheapen my sacrifices, Velixar. I will not regret what I have done.”

He stormed off. The man in black watched him go, his calm facade turning into pride.

“Welcome back, Qurrah,” he whispered to the morning air.

Tessanna found him an hour later, marching north with nothing but his whip and Velixar’s journal. His breath was labored and weak, and his stride unsteady, but his eyes were wide with fury and determination.

“Why did you leave me?” she asked him as she dismounted from Seletha.

“Do you want what I have offered?” Qurrah said, whirling on her and grabbing her shoulders. “Do you truly want your mind made whole?”

“I want what you want,” she said, shying away from him.

“No!” Qurrah shouted, not caring that he spit blood as he did. “What is it that you want? Do you want me to change what you are?”

The girl bit her lip and shook her head.

“I like myself, Qurrah. I thought you liked me, too.”

The half-orc collapsed to the ground and buried his face in his hands.

“Then what is it you want,” he asked. “For what reason can I justify the massacre of thousands? I was to sacrifice this world for you, Tessanna. I still will. But I march with the murderer of my brother’s daughter. Karak has guided my life as if I am a pet, trained to fight and kill, but for what reason?”

The shyness vanished as Tessanna heard his words.

“Velixar killed Aullienna?” she asked. The half-orc nodded. She knelt down and pulled his face up so they could look eye to eye.

“Do you know what I want?” she asked. Tears filled her eyes as he shook his head. “I want to live in a world where I don’t feel my mother watching every step I make, preparing me for a fate I don’t want. I want to live where no god will meddle in our lives and kill those we love to ensure our paths.”

“How,” Qurrah asked. “I would accept that so desperately, but how?”

“Velixar offered us escape,” she said. “Thulos can send us away from Dezrel. We keep our promise, and he keeps his. That is what I want.”

“But what we do, is it wrong?”

Tessanna crossed her arms and frowned at him. “Since when do you care about right and wrong? Too many people are suffering. I don’t want us to be one of them.”

The half-orc reached out, and this time she did not shy away. He pulled her close and kissed her lips.

“Before you I wanted nothing but power,” he said.

“And you still should,” she whispered. “I like it when you’re strong. I always have. Don’t change on me now.”

For the first time since Aullienna’s death, he felt the confusion that had clouded his mind finally lift. He kissed her again, nearly shoving his tongue down her throat as he held her tight.

“I’ve almost forgotten what it means to be stronger,” he told her when their lips parted. “What it means to take a life and truly enjoy the taking. I will remember today. Come with me. The camp is not far. We’ve already passed several of their banners.”

“Velixar and his orcs are not far behind,” she told him.

“We don’t need them,” he said, taking her hand. “Not when we are together.”

The girl smiled. “That’s the Qurrah I fell in love with.”

Hand in hand, they marched north, feeling warm despite the cold winter air.