1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Valpar

The gleaming chestnut coat of my horse glistened under the warm sunlight. As I secured the leather tightly around his shoulders, I felt the tautness against his powerful muscles. A slight tension coursed through him when my claws came too close to his neck. With each stomp of his hooves, the ground reverberated beneath us. Protesting, he threw his head back, and his ears flattened against his skull, conveying his displeasure.

I relaxed my face and tensed shoulders, as my palm smoothed down his neck. The horse, whom I have named Ulam, calmed, and I could feel the thrumming of his drum beneath my large hand. My nails ran up and down his neck, his skin shivering at my touch and he leaned into me.

Horses could read an orc. They knew when an orc was sad, happy or angry, and most of the time, territorial. We had been gifted several horses by the Golden Lights' King Osirus, and a stableman to teach us how to care for them. Only a few of us wanted one to keep, as the forest wasn't ideal for these creatures, who often needed open spaces. They had seen us in war, so they knew how ferocious we were. It took months for us to gain these beasts' trust.

Most of the tribe didn't like them, they found them too jumpy. I found them to be smart and useful, if one had the patience.

Patience with animals, I had… with other creatures, not so much.

"Is that the last of it?" Alark called from behind the wagon, which was attached to my horse.

Ulam jerked his head, and his front legs stomped into the soft ground.

I sighed and ran my hand through my messy hair. "Yes, now stop barking near the horses or we won't get anywhere," I replied quietly.

The horses were used to my grunts and barks since I spent more time with them, but this fat fattyu understood nothing. His head was not completely formed.

"They fear everything. We should leave them with Osirus. You must treat them like orclings to get anything from them," Alark said, putting his hands on his hips. He was tall and covered in scars from the war. He was a fool, hot-headed, and dumber than a pixie.

I did not know how his clan could stand him. His ogamie would be sad to know the moss in his skull gets smaller each day.

"Fine, we'll do that. You can haul the cart with all the exports, then."

Exports was a word Osirus taught us. We ‘exported' food, furs and other goods from Monktona Wood that came from nowhere else in Bergarian. In return, we gained gold or other materials such as sugar, flour and other things we could not get called imports.

I grunted and turned away from the male. He rolled his yellow eyes, and I didn't have time to explain simple things. Today was enough to bear.

I let out a low, guttural groan, and the sound echoed through the dense forest. Anger surged within me, causing my hand to clench into a tight fist. As my sharp claws dug into my palm, a surge of pain shot through my body, but I welcomed it, relishing in the release.

It had been an entire year since I last ventured beyond the towering trees of Monktona Wood, and the thought of leaving now filled me with an overwhelming sense of unease.

I wanted to hit something.

I could hit Alark's face.

I enjoyed staying in the Monktona Wood to look after the elders. It was welcomed; it was quiet. I didn't have to dress up in for-mal cloth. I did not have to smile and talk to funny-smelling fairies or shifters.

Thorn, our unofficial leader of the tribe, said he would stay behind to watch out for the elders this time. He told me that I could not stay behind for a third migration.

My chest felt like a boulder was sitting on it. It pushed heavily on my bones as I observed Thorn's slow approach. Exhaustion seeped into my body, weariness accumulating with each visit to the Golden Light or the Cerulean Moon Kingdoms, always returning empty-handed, and my hopes shattered like fragile glass that hung in those fancy castles.

It had been over ten years since the Moon Fairy came to the tribe and promised that our tribe would have females again. She called them mates, not miresas, but it was all the same to us. She said we would have one for each male and never have to share if we did not want to, and we all believed her.

I wanted one so badly. My body ached watching the last female orc pass this world and go to the stars. There were no females left and none to be given to the youngest generation. Our orgamos were withering away with no females, and they were ready for death and to meet them on the other side.

Thorn approached, his eyes trying to give us false hope. His grin stretched across his face. The warmth of his fake happiness was sickening. I could almost hear the joyous hum of his contentment, as he reveled knowing that I was assuming leadership of the tribe, while he would stay behind to rest in peace.

Stupid, ugly-faced ogre.

I grunted and grabbed my sword from the side of the cart. "Are you sure I cannot stay?" I took the sword and slid it into its sleeve behind my back. "I can be of more use here."

Thorn's disappointed gaze pierced through me, then his judging eyes looked straight toward my gut. I could almost taste the words he wanted to utter hovering on the edge of his tongue. I stood before him, distinct from the rest of the tribe, my figure softer around the midsection. Yet, my strength remained unwavering and fierce enough to protect our tribe from any enemy.

So what if my body differed from the others? I could still slaughter more than the rest.

"Valpar, it has been too many moons since you have visited either kingdom. I must push you to do this. Our ogamie would want this for you."

I furrowed my brow, clenched my teeth and pushed my jaw forward stubbornly. He knew the thought of our ogamie was a soft spot in my heart. He used it many times to manipulate me into taking action.

I sighed and rubbed my neck. "I dislike when you bring up our birth ogamie . It isn't fair."

Thorn frowned and stepped forward to put his hand on my shoulder.

None of the orcs enjoyed touch, but since he was my brother I allowed it. We were of the same clan, the same ogamie. We may be from different orgamos, but we were still close in each other's eyes. Especially since our ogamie left this world.

Thorn spouted off nonsense to ease my pain, to help me realize that this was for my own good, and to find my miresa- the female that was meant to be mine, my soul mate or fated mate, as many Bergarians have called it - but I could hardly pay attention.

I gazed at my horses, and the excitement of the rest of the tribe. I couldn't understand it. It had been ten years since the war and not one of us had found a miresa. I often had intrusive thoughts that the Moon Fairy was never real, when lying under the stars at night. It could have all been a lie.

Perhaps we all drank bad ale and wished for the Moon Fairy to give us miresas.

I huffed in annoyance once Thorn stopped speaking. No, I could not get my hopes up.

"The shifters smell like wet animals, and the fae and fairies smell too sweet. I don't see how I will find my miresa amongst a bunch of terrible smells," I spat.

Sugha, the youngest of our clan, came up behind Thorn and I with a frown on his face.

How long had he been there?

"Yes, and the Bergarians look at us differently too, don't they?" Sugha said, wringing his hands together.

Sugha was the happiest of all of us, and here I was making the poor, adult orcling sad.

Bassza, I couldn't do anything right.

Shifters could change from animal to human. Fae, fairies, pixies and sirens all looked human. Orcs didn't look human at all. We were green and couldn't change our appearance.

We were so different.

We were monsters in their world, and not just by the way we looked.

Orcs couldn't be around each other for long periods of time. We were very much alphas. We all lived in our own territories because of our aggressiveness toward each other. We only gathered in time of trade, when one might need help with building a new home or taking down trees.

We didn't socialize with one another unless we needed to.

Thorn sniffed the air, his mind taking him to other places. He turned, his heavy feet carrying him away from us and toward the wall. He grazed it with his fingers, and his nose flared while he traveled deeper into the Wood.

Strange male.

He was most likely faking that he had something better to do than leading the tribe.

Sugha's mood lightened. With his bag on his back and a wide grin on his face, he ran in front of Ulam, who didn't see Sugha as a threat in the slightest. "Ready to go, buddy?" Sugha reached into his pocket and grabbed a few sugar cubes.

Ulam pranced on his feet and grunted.

"Do not feed my horse sugar. It will make him jumpy!" I yelled and stomped over.

"A treat won't hurt!" Sugha waved me off, holding out his hand.

Ulam greedily took it, licking his palm until it vanished, and then my horse flicked his lips toward me to show me it was gone.

I let out a low grunt, the sound mingling with the creaking of the leather reins as I freed them from their position around his neck. My grip tightened around the worn, weathered leather, its texture comforting in my hand. Glancing back, I scanned the formidable caravan of orcs following closely behind us, their heavy footsteps creating thunderous movement along the path.

They were all talking amongst themselves, not as lively as they were the first time we had taken the journey, but everyone was accounted for. Bags, satchels of things to trade, and still odd murmurs of finding their miresas…

"Yup, got my stuff. I'm going to look around the coast this time. Maybe she's in the water," Sugha said excitedly, as I tugged on the reins for Ulam to follow.

I made a gagging sound as we trotted over the wall line, which was what separated the Monktona Wood and the Bergarian lands. "They smell like fish. You hate fish."

Sugha shrugged his shoulders. "But if she is supposed to be mine, then it won't matter. I'll love her smell no matter what."

I didn't say anything in reply. I kept my eyes on the path I'd taken over the years. Orcs still traveled by themselves and went on their own journeys to find their mates, but the big migration every six months, we all did together, for the mating balls. Except for the elders.

"Whatever you say. Just don't drown. You can't swim. And Thorn and your seeded orgamo would get angry with me. I can't watch you all the time."

Sugha stopped in his tracks and put his hand over his mouth. "You know, I forgot about that. Think she will still feel the bond from the shoreline?" Sugha placed his hand across his smooth face and scratched his cheek.

Ah, that bond everyone talks about. I see it at these mating balls. They sniff or look at each other and just know that is who their mate is.

I never stick around too long to watch the other creatures get their miresas. I became too tired and disappointed. My miresa has never shown up. No orc has ever claimed their mate. What if there was something more we needed to do? What if it wasn't a smell or a look? Do we need to touch them?

I hated touching.

"I'm sure she will come to you," I told Sugha, to appease him.

How could Sugha be so excited after all this time waiting? He was always the optimistic one, even as a young orcling.

I pulled on my messy hair, tugging at the head pain that was coming. Ulam, sensing my discomfort, nudged my arm and I wrapped it around his head.

His touch didn't bother me. Maybe it was because I spent most of my time with him. I never felt threatened by the beast. It was a new concept for orcs, caring for an animal, but amongst those in Bergarian they were called pets .

Once, my orgamos said they wanted to cook Ulam, and that was the first time I'd felt fear.

He has never been anywhere near my seeded orgamo or orgamos ever again after that.

"What do you think, do you think I would attract my miresa with this?" Sugha stepped in front of me and walked backwards to keep up the pace. When I gazed up at him my head reared back in shock.

Sugha was wearing a bright pink tunic, opened in the front, showing no hair on his chest at all.

I frowned and side-stepped. "It's hideous."

Moon Fairy, save me. Must I be tormented by such a clan brother?

Sugha fluffed up his tunic. Other orcs behind us barked in laughter and pointed at his ridiculous cloth.

"Hey, I don't see you having any miresas on your arm, or on your shaft! Mind your own!" Sugha shouted at the others.

I groaned and ran my hand down my face. "Take it off! You are causing a scene," I hissed and tugged on his tunic.

"No, I think my miresa will like it." Sugha ran his hand down the large ruffles in the middle of the shirt. He didn't even have pants on, just his long cloth that exposed his thighs. It looked ridiculous.

"You look like a bird. That is what you look like. A funny, skinny bird with bright colors. You want your miresa to be the most beautiful, not you."

Sugha smiled, and his cheeks turned a dark shade of green. "Ah, Valpar, do you think I am beautiful?" He blinked his eyes rapidly in my direction.

My mouth hung open, and I turned away from him, keeping my head on the path. "I, uh. No, I do not. I find you disgusting and, bassza, very annoying. Now leave me be and let me lead the caravan."

Sugha squealed, skipping up to me. "But Valpar," he said in a higher-pitched voice. "How can I ignore it when you find me so captivating." He flipped the invisible hair on his shoulder behind him and tried to intertwine his arm around mine.

I snarled, gripping his arm and putting it around his back. Instead of screaming in fear, he laughed, giggling while the other orcs watched in amusement. "Do not touch me," I growled. "And stop with your foolishness. This is serious."

Sugha calmed and nodded his head when I let go. He straightened himself as we carried on, but it was just a few minutes later when he spoke again.

"You still want to meet her, then?" He tilted his head, and I shook mine in reply.

"My job is to get the tribe there. If I meet my miresa, then great." I dropped my hand on my thigh, and it echoed through the wood.

Sugha studied me from my peripheral and, for once, I wondered what was on his mind.

"We are going to find them," he murmured.

Okay, maybe I didn't want to know what was on his mind.

"We are going to find them when we least expect it, and the wait will be worth it."

Good for him; he had hope. But my hope had run out. I was ready to accept my life to live alone. All I needed was my seeded orgamo, who still lived back in the Monktona Wood, and my horse, Ulam, who didn't argue back.