4. Thrag

4

THRAG

T he rhythmic scrape of steel against stone fills my cavernous temporary hideaway. I sharpen my axe diligently, its edge glinting in the dim light. But the distant roar of orcs—a sound I've long tried to forget—cuts through my solitude, sending a jolt of unease through me.

I step outside. The chill of the night air bites against my skin. From my vantage point atop a snow-dusted slope, I see the chaos unfolding below. A human female is sprinting for her life, pursued by two of my kind. She stumbles, falls, but finds her footing again, a testament to her will to live.

My grip tightens around the hilt of my axe. I should turn away. Humans and their problems are not my concern. But as her scream pierces the silence, ripping through the frigid air, it echoes with the ghostly wails of my sisters. The past, with all its bloody hues, floods back to me—a tide of memories I can't escape.

"Damn you," I growl under my breath, the words forming a cloud of mist that dissipates into the night. I take a step back, ready to retreat into the shadows of my cave, but something anchors me in place. The sight of the orcs grabbing her, her desperate struggles, the sound of her defiance—it's a scene etched in my mind, a dark reminder of my own failures.

I watch, frozen, as they start to drag her away. Her continuous screams stir something within me, a primal urge to act, to protect. But I've walked that path before, and it led only to ruin.

With a snarl of frustration, I turn back to my cave. I can't save everyone. I couldn't even save my own clan. But as I start to retreat into the darkness, the echo of her screams linger, a siren call that I can't ignore.

With a final glance at the darkness within my cavern, I make my decision. "Time to remind them why they fear the night," I say, my voice a low rumble that matches the growing resolve within me.

A low growl rumbles in my chest, an ancient reflex I can't suppress. With a snarl, I leap and roll down the massive slope, landing in a crouch before the orcs. The first one barely has time to register my presence before my axe finds its mark. The blade cuts through him with a wet squelch, and a spray of hot blood paints the snow crimson. He crumples to the ground, life fleeing his eyes.

The woman gapes at me, her eyes wide with shock. The second orc roars in fury, tossing her aside like a ragdoll. She hits the ground with a dull thud. I square off against the remaining orc, our weapons clashing in a deadly dance.

"You're a dead orc, traitor!" he spits, his eyes burning with hatred.

"Then come and claim my head," I retort, my voice a low growl.

We clash, axe against axe, the ring of steel echoing through the night. He's strong, but I'm fueled by a raw fury that's been simmering for years. I parry his blows, each one jarring my bones, and then I strike back with deadly precision.

"The Icefang Clan will destroy you!" he snarls, trying to throw me off balance. "And the woman—she'll wish for death long before we're through with her!"

His words are meant to incite fear, but they only fan the flames of my resolve. I drive my axe deep into his side, feeling it bite into his flesh. With a final, guttural roar, I twist the blade, and he collapses at my feet, his lifeblood seeping into the snow.

I stand over him, my chest heaving. The taste of victory mingles with the coppery tang of blood in the air. I turn to the woman, who stares at me with a mixture of fear and awe. Her face is pale, her body trembling from the cold—or perhaps from the shock of what she's just witnessed.

Blood drips from my axe, pattering softly onto the snow. I meet her gaze, my amber eyes locking with her wide, brown ones. For a brief moment, we're the only two beings in this vast, frozen wilderness.

Without a word, I turn and begin to walk away. I've done what I set out to do. I've saved her life. Now, I need to put distance between us, to return to the solitude that has been my only companion for so long.

"Wait!" she cries. Her voice is weak, but it carries in the stillness of the night. "Mr. Orc? Can I… can I follow you?"

I pause, my back to her. My shoulders tense, and I can feel the force of her gaze on me. I'm not used to being followed, to being needed. I'm a lone wolf, a solitary figure in a world that has turned its back on me.

I grunt in response, neither an invitation nor a rejection. She takes it as a sign to approach, her steps hesitant, her breath coming out in ragged puffs.

We soon walk in silence, the only sounds the crunch of our footsteps on the snow and the distant howl of a winter wind. I can sense her fear, her uncertainty, but there's something else there too—a spark of determination that I can't help but respect.

As we move deeper into the night, the woman stumbles after me, her body pushing past the limits of exhaustion. I could leave her behind, but I find myself slowing my normal pace, allowing her to keep up. I tell myself it's because I don't want her falling prey to some other beast, but deep down, I know it's more than that.

The night closes in around us, a shroud of darkness pierced only by the twinkling of distant stars. I lead her through the wilderness, my instincts guiding us away from the dangers that lurk in the shadows. She follows without question, her trust in me a heavy burden to bear.