Page 26 of Orc’s Little Human

KORRATH

T he swamplands of southeastern Tlouz stretch before us like a fever dream painted in shades of green and brown.

Moss drips from twisted branches overhead, creating a canopy so thick that sunlight filters through in scattered coins of gold.

The air hangs heavy with moisture and the rich scent of decay, while somewhere in the distance, a brox croaks its three-eyed warning to unseen predators.

Thali darts between the massive roots of ancient trees, her bare feet sure on the slick ground despite the treacherous footing. She's adapted to our journey with the resilience that only children possess, treating each new landscape like a gift unwrapped especially for her wonder.

"Look!" She spins around, her amber-green eyes bright with excitement as she points to a cluster of luminescent fungi growing from a fallen log. "They glow like the lumiolas back home, but they're not flying!"

Home. The word sits strangely in my chest. Gor'thul isn't home anymore—hasn't been since the moment I chose Selene over everything I'd built there. But watching Thali's delight at every new discovery, I realize she's already building new definitions of belonging.

"Don't touch them," I call out, adjusting my pack as I navigate around a pool of stagnant water. "Some swamp fungi are poisonous."

Thali nods solemnly, then immediately crouches down to examine a peculiar vine that spirals up the nearest tree trunk. Her attention span for warnings lasts exactly as long as it takes for something more interesting to catch her eye.

Selene walks beside me, her gray-blue eyes tracking Thali's movements with protective attention even as she takes in the alien landscape around us.

The past week of travel has changed her—not just physically, though the sun has brought out more freckles across her nose and cheeks—but in ways that run deeper.

She moves with less of the defensive tension that used to define her every gesture.

"She's fearless," Selene observes, watching as Thali leaps from root to root like some woodland sprite. "Doesn't she realize how dangerous this place could be?"

"She knows." I step over a tangle of thorny vines, then extend my hand to help Selene across. The brief contact sends familiar warmth up my arm—the magic that flows between us has grown stronger since that night by the fire, more natural. "But she also knows we're here to protect her."

Trust. It's such a simple concept, yet watching Thali explore with complete confidence in our ability to keep her safe, I'm struck by how rare true trust really is. How precious.

"You raised her well," Selene says quietly, and there's something in her voice that makes me glance at her more closely.

The compliment sits uncomfortably in my chest. Praise for my parenting feels foreign—in orcish culture, children are raised by the clan, not individuals. But Thali and I never had a clan in the traditional sense. Just each other, and the weight of survival pressing down on both our shoulders.

"I did what I had to," I reply, then immediately wish I'd chosen different words. They sound dismissive, like raising my sister was some burden I bore reluctantly instead of the most important thing I've ever done.

Ahead of us, Thali discovers a patch of strange purple flowers growing directly from the swamp water. She kneels at the edge of a shallow pool, her reflection wavering as she reaches toward the blooms.

"Thali, wait." Selene moves forward quickly, her hand catching my sister's wrist before those small fingers can touch the petals. "Those look like numiscu blossoms. The sap paralyzes anything that touches it."

My chest tightens with a mixture of gratitude and something that might be fear. In my focus on navigating the swamp's physical dangers, I missed the botanical ones entirely. But Selene caught it, protected Thali without hesitation.

"How did you know that?" Thali asks, settling back on her heels with obvious disappointment at being denied her prize.

"I learned a lot about dangerous plants in the camps," Selene explains, her voice carefully neutral. "Knowledge that kept me alive."

The camps. Even now, weeks after our first real conversation about her captivity, the casual references to that horror make rage kindle in my chest. Not at Selene—never at her—but at the humans who used her, broke her, marked her for purposes she's still discovering.

"Come on," I say, offering Thali my hand to help her up. "Let's find drier ground for midday rest."

We walk in comfortable silence for a while, following what might charitably be called a path through the endless green maze.

The swamp teems with life—hidden splashes as creatures disturb the water, the rustle of small animals moving through underbrush, the occasional cry of some bird I can't identify.

This landscape couldn't be more different from the rocky hills and sparse grasslands around Gor'thul. Everything here is lush, alive, overwhelming in its abundance. Like the world decided to pour all its growing energy into this one place and see what happened.

"It's beautiful," Selene murmurs, echoing my thoughts. "Dangerous, but beautiful."

I study her profile as she takes in our surroundings. The wariness that used to define her every expression has softened into something more open, more willing to find wonder even in uncertain places. It makes something shift in my chest, a recognition that goes deeper than physical attraction.

She sees beauty where others would see only threat. The realization strikes me with unexpected force. Even after everything that was done to her, she still looks for light.

"The first time I used my blood magic," I find myself saying, the words emerging without conscious decision, "I was eight years old."

Selene's attention sharpens, though she doesn't turn to look at me directly. Ahead of us, Thali has discovered a fallen log that bridges a particularly wide stretch of water and is using it as a balance beam, her arms spread wide for stability.

"My mom died in childbirth, as many orcish women do. It took Thali’s mom a long time to conceive, and she, too, died in childbirth.

But my father had two children, and even as young as eight, he wanted me to go on raiding missions.

I just didn’t know he’d be killed while I was on one.

" The memory tastes like copper and ash in my mouth.

"The Ironfang clan invaded while many of the warriors were away.

Thali was barely a year old, couldn't even walk yet.

The elders were arguing about what to do with us —whether to split us up, send her to a nursing mother in another clan. "

I step carefully around a patch of ground that looks suspiciously soft, my boots squelching slightly in the mud. The physical discomfort feels appropriate somehow, a small echo of the pain that memory still carries.

"I couldn't let them separate us. She was all I had left of family, of... anything that mattered." My voice roughens despite my efforts to keep it steady. "So I cut my palm with my father's hunting knife and pressed it to the stone floor of the longhouse."

The magic had responded instantly, hungrily. Power flowing through my blood into the earth beneath our feet, reshaping it, making the ground itself tremble with barely contained force.

"The stone cracked from wall to wall," I continue, watching Thali reach the other side of her makeshift bridge and punch the air in triumph.

"Split right down the middle like the earth itself was choosing sides.

Every orc in that room felt it—felt my power claiming territory, demanding recognition. "

Demanding they acknowledge what I was willing to do to protect her.

"They let us stay together after that. Gave me the resources to raise her, train her, keep her safe.

But the price..." I flex my left hand, feeling the familiar ache in scars that never quite healed properly.

"Blood magic always demands payment. Every time I use it, it takes something from me.

Strength, blood, pieces of myself I can never get back. "

Selene stops walking, turning to face me fully. Her gray-blue eyes are soft with understanding, with recognition of shared burdens.

"But you kept using it anyway," she says quietly. "To protect her."

"To protect her. To lead the clan. To survive." I meet her gaze, seeing my own history reflected in her careful attention. "My entire life, my magic has been both gift and curse. The thing that saved us and the thing that marked me as different, dangerous, not quite trustworthy."

Until you. The words want to spill out, to give voice to the truth that's been growing in my chest since that first night she responded to my power. Until the magic found something it wanted to heal instead of harm.

"I understand," Selene says, and the simple statement carries weight beyond its words. "Carrying something that makes you necessary but never quite welcome. Being useful but never truly safe."

Yes. She does understand. The brand that marks her, the way it amplifies magic while making her a target—it's not the same as blood-forging, but the isolation is familiar. The burden of being needed for what you can do rather than who you are.

Thali's voice breaks through our shared moment of recognition, bright with discovery and completely unconscious of the heavy conversation happening behind her.

"There's a whole family of brox here! Come look, they're so fat and funny!"

I watch Selene's face transform as she focuses on my sister—the careful attention, the genuine warmth, the protective instinct that's become as natural as breathing. She moves toward Thali without hesitation, kneeling beside her to examine the three-eyed amphibians basking on a moss-covered log.

"Don't get too close," Selene warns gently, but there's affection in her voice rather than sharp concern. "Brox can jump much farther than they look like they should be able to."

Thali giggles, a sound like wind chimes in the summer breeze. "Everything in this swamp is sneaky. The flowers that look pretty but hurt you, the ground that looks solid but isn't, the brox that look fat but can probably leap over my head."

"Exactly like people," Selene murmurs, and something in her tone makes me wonder if she's thinking about herself. About how she must look to others—small, fragile, broken—when the truth is so much more complex.

She isn't just survival. The thought crystallizes as I watch her with Thali, patient and protective and utterly without the self-pity that would be justified given what she's endured. She's strength. The kind that bends without breaking, that finds ways to grow even in impossible circumstances.

Like these swamp plants that flourish in conditions that would kill anything else. Like Thali's laughter echoing through a landscape that could swallow us all without trace.

Like the warmth building in my chest as I realize I'm not just bound to Selene by magic or attraction or even gratitude for her acceptance of my sister.

I'm falling in love with her.

The recognition hits like lightning, sudden and illuminating and impossible to ignore.

Not the desperate claiming of that first night we came together, driven by power and proximity and the animal need to possess.

This is something deeper, built from watching her choose kindness when she could choose bitterness, protection when she could choose self-preservation.

Built from the way she makes Thali laugh, makes my sister feel safe and valued and heard. The way she's become not just my lover but my partner in the most important responsibility I've ever carried.

"Korrath?" Selene's voice pulls me back to the present, where she's standing with Thali's hand in hers, both of them watching me with expressions of mild concern. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

I've seen the future. The thought whispers through my mind, dangerous and hopeful in equal measure. And for the first time in my life, it doesn't terrify me.

"Just thinking," I reply, moving to join them beside the brox pond. "About how far we've come."

Selene's smile is soft, understanding flooding her eyes as though she can read the truth written across my face.

"We should keep moving," she says gently. "Find higher ground before the afternoon rains start."

But as we gather our things and continue deeper into the swamp, Thali chattering about everything she's discovered, I catch Selene watching me with the same careful attention I've been giving her.

She feels it too. The knowledge settles in my chest like truth finally acknowledged. This thing growing between us, stronger than magic, deeper than desire.

Love.