Chapter 32
We left Grìosach with the bittersweet taste of victory.
The guards of Ceilte and the orcs marched side by side, with Fenric dragged between them in shackles around his hands and ankles.
At first, he tried to complain about his treatment; however, a single sequence of snarls from the orcs around him was enough to keep him quiet.
Even the Fae soldiers seemed fed up with him and everything he had caused.
Merith departed from us without saying another word. Her work there was already done.
The price we paid was far too high to ignore. Fae and orc lives were lost, not only in this battle but also during the invasion of Oksha. Every step forward carried the weight of those who couldn’t return, reminding us that no victory was complete when it was paid for in blood.
We walked in silence until we reached the borders of Marukoksha, and then it felt as if a weight had been lifted from our shoulders. We stopped to rest in a clearing near the riverbank, the very same one I had found when I first fled from Ceilte.
The soldiers rested, some even exchanging a few words with the orcs, which gave me hope that one day we could be a united people.
I pulled Malek close to my family. My father looked exhausted, probably because he hadn’t slept in days.
His clothes were filthy, and his hair was greasy.
Even so, hugging him felt like coming home after a long journey.
He let out a raspy sigh, squeezing me against his chest, despite my towering height.
"My dear..." he said with a weary smile. "I believe you and your brother have aged me several years.”
"I'm sorry for worrying you, Papa," I said, patting his back.
"At least she's no longer our responsibility now," Leone joked, his arm draped over my mother’s shoulders. "This headache belongs to Malek."
"Watch it, brother," I shot back with venomous sweetness. "Without the favorite daughter to worry about, their attention is going to be entirely focused on you. I can already hear the wedding bells."
The sarcastic little smirk on his face vanished instantly. My mother, who never missed a chance to tease us, nodded in agreement.
"I already have a few suitors in mind. We’ll talk once we’re back in Ceilte."
“What?” he nearly choked. “What suitors?!”
I ignored his meltdown and pulled Malek closer to me.
“Mama, Papa…” I began calmly. “I want to officially introduce my mate, Malek.”
“Ruk’hai Malek ‘o Melk’or, of the Oksha clan,” Malek said, stepping forward to bow, his posture still commanding and dignified.
He still distrusted my parents. Years of war and blood weren’t easily erased; certain memories embedded themselves too deeply to be forgotten. Despite that, he was willing to try, and that was all that mattered.
My father, who had spent the last few centuries with prejudice against orcs etched into his soul, stared at the male before him. His expression was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and, to my relief, respect.
“O’Melk’or,” he pronounced the name carefully, his accent nearly perfect. “You’re the son of the last Ruk’hai of Oksha.”
"Yes. He was killed at the Battle of the Rhys Fields," Malek replied.
It was the same battle where Malek had been taken to Ceilte as a prisoner. My heart grew overwhelmed with sadness, remembering that my father had been directly involved in that battle and, in a way, in the end of Malek's family.
I looked at my brother and mother and saw they were fine despite the battle we had just fought. I didn't know what I would have done if I had lost one of them, so I couldn't imagine the pain Malek must have felt.
My father sighed heavily, and for the first time in my life, I saw the true weight of the years upon his face. Then, to my shock, he bowed his head until it touched his chest.
"Forgive me, child. I know that words could never do justice to everything you have lost, and yet, in the moment we needed it most, you came to our rescue. Therefore, I announce before everyone that my family and I owe a debt to all the orcs of Lyraen."
Some orcs exchanged cautious glances; others remained impassive, as if unwilling to trust what they had heard.
Among the Fae, I noticed shock, restlessness…
and also relief. Words like those didn’t erase the past, but they offered hope for the future.
No one wanted to keep fighting for a cause that had never made sense.
Malek remained motionless. His face was a mask of self-control, but I could feel just how tense he was. When he finally spoke, his voice reached everyone without him having to shout.
“There’s no debt between us, Alasdair Kerridan. But there’s an alliance, sealed in blood.”
Alasdair’s eyes lifted, meeting Malek’s.
“An alliance it is, then,” my father agreed, extending his hand to Malek.
It was the first time in millennia that a Lord of Ceilte and a Ruk’hai of Oksha had joined in a handshake.
Once the moment of tension passed, it was my mother’s turn to approach. She eyed my orc from head to toe with that shrewd look of someone about to stir up trouble; unlike with my father, Malek seemed almost cornered before my mother.
I didn't blame him; Laurelin Kerridan was a force of nature.
Leone exchanged a worried glance with me, which almost made me intervene. However, before I could do so, Laurelin pulled Malek into a hug.
The gesture was simple and, for that very reason, devastating.
For a second, Malek went as stiff as a board, not knowing what to do with such closeness.
He stared at me with bewildered eyes, practically screaming for me to help him.
I gestured for him to return the embrace; otherwise, my mother wasn’t going to let him go. Slowly, his shoulders gave way.
“Welcome to the family, my dear.” Her voice was as soft as someone speaking to a cornered child. “You seem like a good lad to me, and if my daughter loves you, then I love you too.”
My eyes burned at the scene, especially when I saw Malek swallow hard, fighting the lump in his throat, his own gaze shimmering with an emotion he rarely allowed to surface.
"Yes, orc, welcome. But remember, if you hurt my sister, we’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth," Leone declared, giving Malek’s shoulder a slap that was harder than necessary.
To everyone's surprise, the Ruk’hai gave a half-smile and pulled me by the waist into an embrace that made my stomach do cartwheels.
"I’d like to see you try, kir’shakur."
The orcs, having witnessed the entire scene, let out low, amused laughs and cast defiant glares toward the Fae. Even my father, Alasdair, who had spent his entire life despising Malek’s people, allowed himself a small, reluctant smile.
"I think we’ll have peace for a while," my mother commented, her gaze fixed on Fenric, who was sitting on the ground flanked by two massive orcs.
I let out a laugh at his discomfort, but it died quickly. Slender arms closed around my waist, and the unmistakable scent of walnuts and blackberries enveloped me like a soft, warm blanket.
I turned around just in time to see Kristan’s beautiful face. Relief was etched across her features, mixed with the exhaustion that marked her eyes.
"Fiona! You’re alright!"
"Kristan! I was so worried! Where were you?"
She let go of me and looked at me, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Drak was introducing me to some orcs." Is it my imagination, or did her cheeks flush at the mention of the warrior? "Sorry for not coming to see you sooner."
"You were with Drak this whole time?" I asked, not hiding the smile on my face.
Kristan glanced away toward the orc, who was approaching with a wide grin.
"Yes. He’s... interesting."
I arched an eyebrow but said nothing. She could tell me everything when we were alone, without so many ears nearby.
"I’m glad he kept you safe." I pinched her cheek with a hand that was now significantly larger than her face. Then I turned to Drak. "Thank you for looking after her."
Drak gazed at Kristan with a look far too intense to be innocent. I felt a twinge in my heart for Kalisha, since the female clearly had feelings for him. Fortunately, she stayed in Oksha to protect the village.
"It was a pleasure, akra’yn," Drak replied, his voice deep and his smile wider than usual. He turned toward Kristan and winked. "She is the most beautiful flower I have ever seen in my life," he said in Okshakai, taking advantage of the fact that my friend only understood the Common tongue.
Kristan shook her head, confused, and giggled.
"What? I didn't understand a single word."
I gave Drak a discreet nudge with my elbow, but he only laughed, amused, and shook his head.
"Nothing much.”
"Well," my mother interrupted with a weary yet satisfied sigh, "I've loved the reunions, but what I really need now is a bath and a good night's sleep." She cast a firm look at us. "It’s time for us to leave."
I exchanged a silent look with Malek. There was no doubt there, only the quiet certainty of someone who had already made their choice. I approached my parents, my heart racing.
"Mama, Papa…" I said softly, without preamble. "I’m going back to Oksha."
Her eyes widened.
"But… I just found you again. Won't you stay with us for even a day, Fionnuala?"
I took her hands in mine, gently stroking them, trying to express all that words could not.
"No, Mama. They need me now." Then I smiled calmly. "But Ceilte is in good hands."
My mother opened her mouth to argue, the protest already on the tip of her tongue.
"Darling, Fiona now has her own responsibilities," my father said gently. His eyes, though sad, also held a glimmer of pride. "Let her walk her own path. And when she can, she’ll come to visit us."
My father embraced me, the gesture carrying the weight of a temporary farewell, yet brimming with love.
"Take care of yourself, my dear. And take care of your people."
"I will, Papa."
Leone approached, his blue eyes amused.
"I'm going to miss you, sis. But I know you're in the right place."
"Take care of Mom and Dad, and don't marry the first Fae female they throw at you." I winked at him, and he laughed, pulling me into an embrace.
"I promise to try."
Finally, it was my mother’s turn. She tried hard, but she couldn’t disguise her tears. Sensing that she was about to break down, I hugged her tightly.
“No one ever prepares a mother to lose her little girl,” she sniffled against my chest.
"You’ll never lose me, Mama."
"Damn right I won’t."
She stepped back, carefully wiping away her tears, and then offered me a knowing smile, the kind that said I understand without needing anything else.
"I’m so proud of you." Her voice still trembled a little. "And remember: just a tiny drop of Fyrin sap."
I laughed openly, shaking my head, my chest feeling light despite the farewell.
"I’ll never forget, Mama."
I watched them depart, the Ceilte troop following my family, the sound of their footsteps becoming more and more distant until it disappeared completely. I turned to Malek. He was waiting for me with his hand extended, the strength and tranquility in his gaze warming my heart.
"Ready, krash’uk?" he asked, his voice deep.
"Let’s go."
I took his hand, and we left the clearing, marching toward the heart of the forest where the Oksha village—my home—lay.
The journey back felt lighter, guided by the hope of a new future.
For the first time in centuries, Oksha and Ceilte would stand side by side, united by a love as improbable as it was world-changing.
Fate had written the events in a way that no one, especially me, had expected. The curse had become my greatest blessing, the war had given way to an alliance, and hatred had been replaced by the strength of a love that transcended legacies and appearances.
And it had all started—and been fulfilled—with a touch of magic.