31. Cagan

“ You giving up on me?” I shout jokingly at Sharog as she kicks her shield away.

She brushes her hair out of her face, sweat making a few strands stick to her forehead. “Never.”

She lunges at me once again and I easily dodge her attack. It’s so easy to get her angry and make her lose focus on me.

I kick her in the back of her knees, making her tumble to the ground. She accepts defeat, laying there.

“Checkmate,” I offer my hand to help her up.

Sharog rolls her eyes. “Please. I let you win. Think of that as your wedding gift.”

“Ah, well in that case, thank you so much for your gracious gesture.”

We laugh heartily and share a quick embrace. Finally, life feels back to normal.

Our lighthearted moment is suddenly interrupted by the sound of angry shouting nearby. I turn towards the commotion, instantly on alert.

There, in the training pit, two male orc recruits are facing off, circling each other aggressively. Though they are new recruits who I haven’t become acquainted with yet, the rage burning in their eyes is unmistakable.

They are young and powerfully built, muscles bulging beneath their leather armor. One is broader while the other is a bit taller and slim, but they seem evenly matched in strength and volatility.

The larger orc is barking heated words, jabbing his finger accusingly. The other shoves his hand away with a snarl, yelling something in retort.

Their movements are tense, hands curled into fists at their sides. It seems a physical confrontation could break out at any moment. They are like coiled springs ready to unleash their aggression without warning.

As I quickly size them up, their body language screams hostility and wounded pride. Whatever sparked this rage between them runs deeper than a random dispute.

They continue circling, posture threatening. Their voices are too distant and muffled for me to decipher their words. But the tone carries clearly on the air—these are not idle threats being exchanged.

Something dangerous brews here beneath the surface. The two recruits are moments from losing control, like wild beasts ready to tear each other apart.

I can't make out everything over the din, but manage to pick up heated phrases between curses:

“I saw you! Don't try to deny it!” the larger recruit shouts, jabbing his finger into the other's chest.

“I did no such thing,” the other yells back, swatting his hand away.

More shoving follows as their voices rise.

“You spoke with her, I know you did!”

“Lies! I never went near her!”

“Ha! So you admit you know exactly who I'm talking about,” the larger recruit crows triumphantly.

“I admit nothing,” comes the furious reply. “You know not what you speak of!”

Another exchange of violent shoves nearly knocks them off balance.

“Enough with your deceit,” the larger growls. “I know what I witnessed!”

“You witnessed nothing but your own delusions!” His retort cuts like a knife.

The incoherent yelling resumes as they circle each other. The confrontation seems mere moments from turning into an all-out brawl. Fists are clenched, muscles tense—violence brews beneath the surface, ready to explode at the slightest spark.

Their anger is palpable as curses fly faster. The shouting fades to background noise as I focus on keeping them apart. But I've heard enough to know this dispute is far from over.

I ask Sharog, “Any idea what this is about?”

She sighs. “Some dispute over a new arrival. That's all I know.”

The shouting rises as tensions boil over. One recruit throws a punch and the fight turns physical.

The surrounding orcs cheer rather than intervene. But this has gone too far. I dash over moving the others out of the way.

“Enough!” I boom.

They barely give me a glance.

“What did you say to her?” The first one takes another threatening step toward his opponent.

As the recruits resume their shoving match, I dive between them and forcefully push them apart.

“That's enough!” I yell. “Stand down, both of you!”

The bigger recruit struggles against me. I shove him back hard and fix him with a stern gaze.

“I said stand down! Now!”

With a final frustrated growl, he takes a step back.

Panting, he points a threatening finger at the other recruit. “This isn't over,” he spits. “We'll settle this on our own terms.”

Before I can respond, he turns and storms off as the surrounding orcs scramble clear.

I watch his retreating form, eyes narrowed. His anger runs deep. This is far from over.

I turn to the remaining recruit. He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“I didn't do shit to that guy,” he spits out. “Someone needs to get him in check.”

“Go clean yourself up,” I order him, gesturing to his bleeding lip that is now dripping onto his shoes.

He grumbles and walks back to the camp, stomping angrily.

“I better not get put on kitchen duty for this. He started it!” The recruit yells back at me one last time.

Muttered speculation rises from the gathered onlookers as the angry recruit storms off. Sideways glances are exchanged as everyone tries to make sense of what just transpired.

“What was that all about?” one orc asks in a hushed tone.

“They seemed ready to kill each other,” another replies in awe.

More hushed whispers follow as they speculate on what could have sparked such violent confrontation.

“It must be about that girl he won’t shut up about-”

“I heard she spurned his advances.”

“Is that truly enough to drive him to such rage?”

Each theory seems wilder than the last. But whatever the cause, the end result is clear—this matter is far from resolved.

As we watch the seething recruit's walk into the distance, tension hangs thick in the air. Though the violence is halted for now, I know trouble still brews beneath the surface. I think everyone here can feel it.

This situation requires caution. I must act swiftly to diffuse it before that simmering anger erupts again. But with so little information, my options are limited.

For now, an uneasy peace resumes, completely disrupting what was supposed to be a much needed training session. But the dark speculation in the onlookers' eyes tells me that more conflict lies ahead. I'll need to keep a very close eye on this feud.

One thing is certain—that recruit's rage remains barely contained, ready to explode at the slightest spark. And the other will be wanting revenge. I can only restore order for so long unless the true cause is uncovered.

Until then, trouble lurks just out of sight, biding its time, waiting to strike once more. I must get to the bottom of this, and quickly, before violence consumes my people.

I won’t let Burning Sun descend into chaos. That only leads to more pain and destruction, and I refuse to go through that again.