Human Eyes

Here at the center of our great orc village, over a hundred of my brothers and sisters gather around me and the clan chief. I had hoped today would finally be the day. I had hoped that this morning be a good one.

The bruises sting. I'm down on one knee and I can't get back up. I look up to Udraq'Ulam, the clan chief. His black hair and beard look like a mane around his gaunt green face. He stares at me with stony eyes.

"Enough, Griz. You've lost."

"No. No, not yet."

My breathing is heavy. I push through the pain and rise to my feet, but my left knee buckles before I could stand fully. At the same time I cough and spit out blood. It splatters on the dirt and my vision starts to fade.

"Hael"

Udraq waves his hand towards me and casts a healing spell - his rare-blood magic. Most orcs have innate self-healing magic that allow us to power through many injuries, like flesh wounds and mild blunt force trauma. Some unique orcs, like Udraq, can even heal others, while other unfortunates like me...

"I admire your... tenacity... in challenging me for the title of chief, Griz'Garzo, but every time we face, I beat you faster than the last. You do not have the talent for battle. It is time you accept that."

"No! Not until you give the word and march us into battle. Those elves. Those... thieves!"

"Enough."

"They take lands not theirs, treasures not theirs, does the pride of our lineage mean nothing-"

"ENOUGH!"

His nostrils flare. The people around us have been silent all throughout our battle, as is custom, but now a tense air sets in. Disagreements are meant to be resolved inside the ring, and left behind after. But this is a matter I cannot let rest. Not like this.

"No more orc blood need be spilled today. I have healed your injuries but you must still take time to recover. Go."

I clench my jaw and bow my head before turning to leave. I respect Udraq but his insistence on being passive towards the elves' trespasses will be the end of us. The elves have yet to take anything from our village but it is only a matter of time, I know it.

My yurt, close to the denser part of the Deepwood comes into view, but I feel restless. Resting at home does little to calm my mind. Perhaps I shall visit the old tomb and pray for guidance.

The path leaving the village towards the tomb passes a creek. The morning light passes between the trees, shining one ray of light after another across my face as I walk. As usual, I make sure to only impose my challenge for chiefhood during my rest days, so no one should find issue with me leaving the village to wander the woods, as long as I return by nighttime.

There, atop a small hill stands the old tomb. Trees surround the towering structure as vines and overgrowth creep all over it, but there it still stands, proud and unerring, built with steel no forge could today could produce.

"Come to offer your prayers again, Griz?"

The wood nymph Sofi stands from her tree stump, the grass beneath her feet seems to follow her direction wherever she moves. Her dark eyes look at me for a moment before she closes them with a tired yawn.

"I have, Lady Sofi. You seem tired."

"The magic around here has been strange lately. It bothers me, even at night."

Magic. Something I have very little knowledge of and connection to. I look around but nothing seems particularly off compared to the last time I was here.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Thank you for asking, but I've already asked Thariam to look around and see if he finds anything. He should be- oh, there he is."

Lady Sofi, looks to her right. From behind the trees emerges Thariam, the lone wolfkin hunter that's been hunting around these parts for the past four years. His black furry silhouette makes it look like a part of the forest's shadow has come to greet us.

"Nothing too unusual Sofi. Some of the animals might be sensing the same thing as you and are staying away from the old ruin. Nothing drastic though. And hello Griz. I saw you coming earlier. Come to talk to the ghosts of humans again?"

I grimace reactively to Thariam's gravelly voice and mocking words. He's never been one to believe in the miracles and wisdom of humans, but I don't understand why he feels the need to make it know every time we meet here.

"Ghosts aren't real. And yes I've come to leave prayers to the tomb."

"Why? Why leave prayers to a race long dead? You do realize humans aren't gods, right?"

"No, they are more than fickle gods. They were here, they left their mark in these lands, spoke to us, walked with us. Humans are much more than invisible, imagined gods."

Thariam rolls his eyes and shakes his head. We've never been good company to one another but I must admit, lecturing him about the glorious humans of the past has been one of my favorite pastimes of late. I wonder if Lady Sofi will listen intently or take a nap this time around. Right now though she seems to be staring at the tomb.

I open my mouth but before I could get another word in, the ground rumbles. I look to the ground and steady my footing. Before I know it, Thariam already has his bow drawn and aimed at the tomb. The doors slide open and from within an elf walks out, gawking and staring at the sky, before finally noticing the three of us.

How? There shouldn't be any other way into the tomb and those doors have been sealed for hundreds of years. Could it be? The strange magic? Is it that elf's doing? Why? How many more sacred ruins of the Deepwood must they desecrate before they are satisfied?

"Thieving elf!! What did you steal from the ruins!?"

"Griz, wait."

Lady Sofi speaks up but the elf makes a sudden move.

He points at me.

Then pain.

Pain! All over me, in me, my entire body feels like it's burning! Like it's being stretched! But underneath the agony, surfacing from it, what is this? What is this fiery stength? My body grows, I feel larger, stronger. My skin, my deep green skin, it's becoming redder.

What is happening to me? No, what has he done to me? I look back at the elf, but now, with calmer thoughts, I notice, that is no elf. Those eyes, those are not elven eyes. Eyes of red and blue and green and gold. Colors shifting and swirling. His gaze, it looks at me, through me, in me.

His ears are not pointed, his frame seems smaller, more fragile. He does not have the gait of a fighter, or hunter, or explorer, yet his expression is stoic and immovable. His clothes, though not as colorful, have the same kind of quality that beastfolk nobles and merchants would wear, not makeshift pelts or leathers.

No. It can't be. Can it? Is it? Am I face to face with... a human? Is... Is this his tomb? Has he awoken from some thousand-year slumber? Have my prayers been answered? And this power, this power he has granted me... Does he know of my plight? Have I been given exactly what I need?

Without ever breaking eye contact, he nods at me, firmly.

He knows. The lord-human knows. He has heard the voice of my heart and given me the means to accomplish what must be done.

Without a word the lord-human turns around, and returns to his abode. The ground rumbles once more and the doors close shut.

"What in the nine lands was that?"

Thariam exclaims with jaws agape. He retracts his bow and looks to Lady Sofi and me. He looks me up and down and all around.

"You uh... look a little red there, Griz. You alright?"

I raise my hand and look at my palm. I try to focus magic onto it, like all the previous times, like all the previous failures. It's like trying to force blood to collect to one spot of your body, then letting it burst out. It is said if you have an affinity for magic, your innate magic should come out. Most orcs, even at an early age, should feel a burst of energy. If cut or injured, that energy would cause rapid healing. I never felt that feeling.

I still don't.

Instead I feel heat. I feel fire. I feel a blaze coalescing at the palm of my hand. I feel the burning warmth, but no burning pain. Red, then orange, then yellowy white. I feel the explosive energy of a fireball at my disposal.

"As I said Thariam, ghosts aren't real, but humans were. Humans are."

I clutch my hand closed and the fire dissipates.

"For my prayers, I have been granted a miracle. Perhaps now you believe me, hm?"

Thariam looks to Lady Sofi, then the tomb, then back to me.

"You're... Is that... Was that a human?"

"What else could it be? An elf with no bow? A beastfolk with no tail? You saw where he came from and where he went back to."

"...huh."

Lady Sofi has not moved. Her eyes are still fixed on the doors. She speaks without turning.

"The strange magic disappeared by the way, right after Thariam's return, right before the human appeared."

"What about now?"

Lady Sofi walks back to her favorite tree stump right next to the doors to the ruins. Her leafy visage seems to glide like a gentle breeze.

"Now I get to sleep."

Thariam looks at her dumbfounded but unsurprised. She's already balled herself on the stump with eyes closed. Even the nature around her seems to do the same and move on as if nothing of importance had happened. Tree leaves sway, birds chirp, and the sacred ruin stands proud and more wondrous than ever.

"...You sure you're feeling alright, Griz?"

"Hmph. As I am now I could take on two of you."

"After all that, just two?"

"Arrogant mutt."

I turn to take my leave as well.

"Where are you going?"

"What does it matter?"

"You know what I'm asking."

Thariam's tone is grave and I can feel his piercing glare on my back. We've known each other for years. I know enough about him, and him enough about me.

"I've been given an chance. Such generosity, I shall pay forward."

I walk on.