Chapter 16
The days slipped over one another like fine rain. I woke, trained, took Okshakai lessons with Kalisha, and in return, taught her everything I knew.
Although my training with Malek was irregular—the Ruk’hai spent long periods away from the village on patrol—my determination never wavered. I devoted myself to the axe, practicing until the ache in my arms was no longer an obstacle and the movements became second nature.
Kalisha was a fast learner. In the cold dawns, before the sun touched the sky, we headed to the clearing. Her body, though never previously trained for combat, carried the strength of an Okshai orc, and her movements, once clumsy, gained precision with every session.
The hand that had sparked the rejection of others didn’t limit her; on the contrary, it only reinforced her iron determination, which hardened with every blow and every time she stood back up with her head held high.
Our relationship improved a lot, and with her by my side, I didn't feel so lonely.
Malek had been away on a mission for days, and Drak also disappeared at times, leaving me to train alone in the meadow.
The other orcs, though friendlier than they had been at the start, had their own tasks, and not all of them spoke Common.
Still, with everything Malek and Drak had taught me, I kept practicing until they returned.
The bow and arrow weren’t my strongest weapons in this body. On the other hand, the axe became almost an extension of my arm. Despite its weight, the weapon was effective and allowed me to move with speed.
Kalisha surprised me with her handling of the bow.
She was very good, a natural, just like Drak, the male she was in love with.
Our constant chats proved to be valuable.
In a short time, I was able to speak with her without resorting to my mother tongue, which made my integration into the clan easier.
More than that, our daily practice transformed our partnership into something close to a genuine friendship—one forged between training sessions, cold dawns, and quiet confidences that required few words.
After another training session, we sat side by side on a log to quickly eat some kuruno. The dried root paste was warm as we ate it. The sun barely peeked through the trees, and the air remained frigid.
"Do you miss it?" she asked unexpectedly.
"Miss what?" I took the axe from my lap and placed it on the ground beside me.
"...Home. Oguk."
I closed my eyes, letting guilt wash over me alongside longing. I missed my parents, Leone, and Kristan—not like an open wound anymore, but as a constant weight I had learned to bear. It didn’t hurt as much as it used to, and that, somehow, frightened me.
I took pride in surviving so long away from home, even being what Kalisha had once called me: kor’kam—useless.
Yet, sometimes during the day, I felt a pang of longing for the scent of jasmine on clear Ceilte mornings, my mother’s embrace, conversations with my father at meals, Kristan’s sweet voice sharing gossip, and even Leone’s teasing.
"I miss the people," I replied at last.
Kalisha sighed, a long, mournful sound. In these past days by her side, I had noticed the melancholy that clung to her—the way she would drift into silence, staring into the distance, her thoughts clearly far from here.
My heart tightened at the sight of her, so distant even when she stood beside me.
"I’ve never left Oksha. This has always been my home," she said, pausing briefly. "But sometimes, I wonder if there isn't... something else out there."
She kept her eyes fixed on the horizon, searching beyond the hills and trees that surrounded the village. The wind stirred her dark hair, making her look smaller, almost young, without the armor she wore for the rest of the world.
"Like what?" I asked, carefully.
Kalisha shrugged. "A place where I’m not... different," she replied, brushing her fingers over her own hand. "Where they don't look at me with pity when they think I'm not watching."
I had learned to recognize this silent weight Kalisha carried for never quite fitting in.
The orcs had begun to treat me as an equal, but her presence remained on the margins, not out of cruelty, but because that was how their culture was.
However, this lack of recognition hurt almost as much as intentional cruelty.
"You’re the most determined orc I know," I said, looking into her brown eyes, so much like Malek’s.
She looked away, and when she faced me again, those brown eyes shimmered.
"That isn't enough. Not for anyone," her voice was a whisper of pain. "Especially not for the one I desire most."
"They’re wrong," I countered, impatient with their ignorance. "Strength isn't just lifting an axe. It’s getting back up after a fall. And you get up every single time."
She remained silent, absorbing what I had just said. Finally, she nodded slowly.
"Perhaps," she said. "But it’s not enough for them."
I stood up from the log, determined.
"Let’s continue," I said, extending my hand to her. "And, Kalisha… if someone doesn't offer you the love and attention you desire, then move on. You deserve more than that."
Kalisha stared at me with wide eyes, caught off guard by my bluntness. After a few heartbeats, her expression smoothed over. She took a deep breath, closed her fingers tightly around my hand, and nodded, her gaze now resolute.
? ? ?
We trained until the sun was high in the sky. My arms burned, my shoulders protested, and sweat cooled against my skin. When we finally stopped, neither of us spoke.
We returned to the hut in silence, our bodies exhausted and our steps heavy. As I pushed through the bone beads at the entrance, the fatigue hit me all at once.
I had never exerted myself physically as much as I did there, and, to my surprise, it felt good.
My body responded in a new way—stronger, shaped by constant training and the necessity of survival.
I felt more resilient than I had ever been, not just in body, but mentally.
Every morning, I reminded myself that I was still there. I wasn’t weak.
I closed my eyes, ready to rest for a moment before heading out to forage in the forest, when a commotion outside the hut caught my attention. Kalisha and I exchanged a quick look and hurried out to see what was happening.
The buzz grew as we approached, orc voices overlapping in harsh tones. The air, saturated with the scent of blood and sweat, put me on high alert. My heart raced as I remembered that Malek had been out on patrol. By the Goddess Danu, I hoped he was safe and sound.
I reached the center of the village, and amid the voices and shifting bodies, Malek was the first thing I saw. He was covered in dirt, and dried red blood stained his leather armor, but his eyes remained sharp.
Relief washed over me all at once, unexpected, loosening something in my chest I hadn't even realized was tight.
Air seemed to return to my lungs, and the tension that had accompanied me since the day he left began to dissolve.
Seeing him standing there, whole, made my heart slow down, even if the worry still refused to leave completely.
After all, there was High Fae blood staining his clothes. Drak was there too, limping slightly, his face marked by exhaustion but carrying an evident pride. Wherever they had been, it hadn't been easy.
As if sensing my gaze, Malek turned his face in my direction, and our eyes met. My heart stumbled, sending a sudden warmth spreading through my body. I stood frozen there, in the middle of the Okshai orcs, staring at the Ruk’hai as if he were the only thing that mattered.
Something inside me stretched toward him, that same silent tug I had felt before. My feet moved on their own accord. Malek seemed to respond to the same call, stepping toward me, his long strides cutting a path through the other orcs.
His scent—sweat, earth, and blood—reached me before he did, strange yet somehow familiar, like my body already knew what my mind refused to accept.
The sensation, too insistent to be ignored, brought an urgent need to touch him, to confirm with my own hands that he was alright.
The feeling frightened me, because it shouldn't exist, not between us. He was an orc, and I was a High Fae.
I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and kept moving forward. When his lips curved into a slight smile, almost imperceptible, heat rose quickly to my face, leaving me blushing like a virgin. From the way Malek’s smile widened, revealing his adorable dimples, it was clear he noticed.
Kalisha, beside me, made a strange sound in her throat, which prompted me to look away from Malek. Her gaze was fixed further ahead, where Drak was talking to Sahak, the beautiful orc who ran the kitchens.
A pang of compassion shot through me, but it was short-lived.
The massive orc in front of me quickly captured my attention.
Malek was impossible to ignore. Taller and broader than any other I had ever seen, he dominated the space effortlessly.
The scars on his skin told ancient stories, echoes of battles long past. His muscles were evident even beneath his leather armor, and the axe strapped to his back looked ready to be wielded at any moment.
He examined every feature of my face. His dark hair, messy and stuck to his forehead with sweat, framed features that a month ago I wouldn't have found beautiful. Now, his face made my heart want to leap out of my body to meet his.
"You’re here," he said, his voice coming out raspy with exhaustion.
"I was training," I replied, tilting my chin up in a futile attempt to maintain my composure.
"Good. You need to stay strong."
His attention weighted on me, making my stomach contract. I shifted my focus to his leather armor, following the trickles of red blood that still seeped down his arms.
"What happened?" I asked.
Malek took a moment to answer, as if evaluating how much he should say.
"Fae from the Autumn Court. We intercepted a convoy."
My eyes widened at the same time a silent fissure opened inside of me.
"They were marching toward Ceilte," he continued, staring at me with intensity. "With a cage."
"A cage?" I repeated, unable to hide my confusion.
Malek nodded. "We couldn't open it," he said, almost to himself. "But we brought it with us."
A cage protected by Fae magic, resistant even to his strength, could only hold something of extreme value.
"What’s inside?" I whispered.
Malek turned, casting a glance at the crowd of orcs that was drawing near, proud and expectant. When he spoke again, there was something resolute in his tone.
"I don't know." He faced me again. "But we’re going to find out."
With that, he walked away, heading to his hut, leaving me in the middle of the excited crowd.
What was happening in Ceilte for the Autumn Court to march there? And worse still, what, or who, was trapped in that cage?
The questions piled up in my mind, along with a growing concern for my family and my people. I needed more information, but Malek had already disappeared into the hut, and the other orcs had dispersed—all except for one.
I walked hurriedly toward Drak, who was still talking to Sahak.
"Drak!" I called out, my voice louder than I intended.
Both turned to look at me—the warrior without losing the sly smile that seemed tattooed on his face, and Sahak with open indifference.
"Akra’yn," he greeted me, the reverence in his tone more mocking than respectful. "It seems you’ve been training even without your favorite teacher. Very good!"
"I want to see the cage," I said, not beating around the bush.
His smile flickered before disappearing completely. "It’s not a toy, akra’yn. It’s dangerous."
"Malek said I could," I lied, a sharp pang of guilt twisting in my chest.
Sahak wrinkled her nose and joined the conversation, her expression heavy with contempt.
"And why do you think you can?" she provoked.
I shot her a cold look, feeling the familiar spark of fury ignite within me at the blatant disrespect.
"I didn't ask for your opinion."
Sahak growled, but Drak intervened before the tension could escalate, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Calm down, Sahak. The akra’yn’s just curious." He turned back to me, assessing me with that ever-watchful gaze, amusement glinting beneath the surface. "The cage’s in a secure place. If you want to see it, Malek will take you."
"I’m an adult, Drak. I don't need him to accompany me."
"Then speak with the Ruk’hai," he retorted, ending the matter with a dismissive gesture before turning his attention back to Sahak.
I shot them both an indignant look. Drak was wasting words there when he could have been by Kalisha’s side.
Instead, she was forced to watch him flirt with every single female in the clan except her.
I hoped that one day, when Kalisha was happy with another male, he’d finally realize what he had lost.
Without waiting for explanations, I turned my back on them and marched toward Malek’s hut.