Page 30 of Orc’s Little Human

KORRATH

T he sound of waves against stone carries on the salt-tinged breeze, mixing with Thali's delighted laughter as she discovers another cache of shells tucked into the tide pools.

Three weeks we've been here, and she still acts like each dawn brings new treasures to uncover along this stretch of coastline.

"Look, Korrath!" She bounds toward me with her latest prize—a spiral shell the size of her fist, its surface gleaming with pearl-like patterns. "It's singing!"

She holds it to her ear, amber-green eyes wide with wonder. The same expression she wore when she was barely walking, finding fascination in every shadow and sound. Some things never change, no matter how far we've traveled or what we've left behind.

"The ocean spirits are trapped inside," I tell her, settling the massive timber I've been dragging into place. "They whisper secrets to those brave enough to listen."

"What kind of secrets?"

"Where the best shells hide. Which tides bring the smoothest stones. How to build houses that won't fall down when your brother gets clumsy with the construction."

Selene's laughter drifts from where she's working on the walls of what will become our main room.

The sound still catches me off guard sometimes—light and genuine, nothing like the sharp, defensive bark she used when we first met.

This laugh belongs to the woman who chose to stand with me against Rusk's soldiers.

Who claimed her power instead of running from it.

"I heard that," she calls without looking up from where she's carefully fitting stones together. "And for your information, these walls are going to be perfectly straight. Unlike certain support beams I could mention."

I grunt, examining the timber. Maybe it leans slightly to the left. But it's solid neptherium-touched ironwood, harder than steel and flexible enough to withstand the coastal storms that roll in from the southern seas. A little character in the grain never hurt anything.

The foundation we've laid follows the natural curve of the cliff face, working with the stone rather than fighting it. Selene suggested the design—something about how water flows around obstacles instead of through them. Smart thinking from someone who understands survival.

Three separate sleeping chambers branch off from the central gathering space, with thick walls between them for privacy.

Storage rooms for food and supplies. A workshop where I can practice my blood-forging without accidentally setting anything on fire.

Everything planned and built with our own hands, exactly the way we want it.

No clan rules. No death camps. No one else's expectations or demands.

Just us.

"The walls need to be higher here," Selene says, running her hands along the stone. She's gotten good at reading the flow of my magic through the rock, sensing where the mineral veins run strongest. "If we build up another two feet, we can install proper shutters for the storm season."

I move to where she's working, letting my palm rest against the stone beside hers.

The familiar warmth builds between us, magic flowing from my blood into the neptherium deposits that streak through the coastal cliffs like silver threads.

Under our combined will, the stone reshapes itself, growing upward in smooth, even courses.

No pain this time. No weakening drain that leaves me hollow and shaking. When Selene channels my power, it feels like breathing. Natural. Right. The way it was always supposed to be.

She glances up at me, gray-blue eyes bright with satisfaction. "Better?"

"Perfect."

And it is. The wall rises straight and true, fitted so precisely that no mortar will be needed. Strong enough to weather anything the coast can throw at us, but still shaped with the organic curves that make this place feel like home instead of a fortress.

Thali has abandoned her shell collection to investigate our progress, scrambling up onto the half-built wall with the fearless agility that gives me nightmares. At nine years old, she still thinks she can climb anything, jump from any height, explore any dangerous-looking cave without consequences.

"When will the roof go on?" she asks, balancing on the narrow stone edge like it's solid ground.

"Carefully," I tell her. "Down."

She rolls her eyes but obeys, dropping lightly to the sand. "I want to help with the roof."

"You can help by not falling off it."

"I won't fall. I'm not clumsy like?—"

A splash from the direction of the water cuts her off, followed by creative cursing. We all turn to see Selene waist-deep in the tide pool she'd been using to wash the morning's construction dust from her hands. Her copper-gold hair has escaped its braid and hangs in wet tangles around her face.

"The rocks are slippery," she announces with wounded dignity, water streaming from her clothes.

Thali dissolves into giggles. "I thought you said water flows around obstacles."

"Water is treacherous," Selene corrects, wading back toward shore. "It lies in wait, pretending to be helpful, then attacks when you're not paying attention."

I wade in to help her out, catching her elbow as she navigates the uneven stones. Her skin is cold from the water but warm underneath, and when she looks up at me, there's something in her expression that makes my chest tight.

Gratitude, maybe. Or wonder. Like she still can't quite believe this is real.

Neither can I, most days.

A month ago, I was preparing to die fighting thirty soldiers in a mountain pass.

Now I'm building a home with the woman who saved my life and my sister who's finally free to be a child again.

No councils questioning my decisions. No warriors challenging my authority.

No clan obligations pulling me in directions I don't want to go.

Just the three of us and the sound of waves and the satisfaction of creating something that belongs only to us.

"We'll need to stock up before storm season," Selene says, wringing water from her braid. "The fishing boats that passed yesterday—they might trade for worked stone. I could make jewelry, or..."

She trails off, still not entirely comfortable with long-term planning. Too many years of surviving day by day, never knowing what tomorrow might bring. But she's learning. We're all learning.

"There's a settlement two days north," I tell her. "Traders, mostly. Neutral ground. They won't ask questions about an orc and a human living together."

"And Thali?"

"Will charm them into giving us their best prices."

It's true. My sister has always had a gift for making people forget their prejudices. Something about her fierce curiosity and complete lack of fear when it comes to strangers. She'll have half the settlement wrapped around her finger within an hour.

The afternoon passes in comfortable work.

Thali sorts her growing collection of shells and stones, creating elaborate patterns in the sand while she tells elaborate stories about sea spirits and underwater kingdoms. Selene and I continue raising walls, our magic flowing together as naturally as breathing.

By sunset, we've completed the main structure. Tomorrow we'll start on the roof—proper wooden beams covered with slate and sealed against the weather. But for now, it's enough to stand in the doorway and see the space we've created.

Four walls and a floor. Nothing elaborate or grand. But it's ours.

"It needs a name," Thali announces from where she's building a miniature castle out of shells. "All proper homes have names."

"What do you think?" Selene asks, settling beside her in the sand.

Thali considers this with the seriousness she brings to all important decisions. "Something with 'stone' in it. And 'wave.' Because of the cliffs and the water."

"Stonewave Keep?" I suggest.

"Too formal," Selene objects. "This isn't a keep. It's a... haven. Stonewave Haven?"

"Perfect," Thali declares, and somehow that settles it.

Stonewave Haven. The first place that's ever truly belonged to me. Not inherited from my father or conquered from enemies or assigned by clan tradition. Built with my own hands and blood, shaped by my own will.

Ours.

The stars are coming out over the water, bright and clear in the salt air. Thali has curled up against Selene's side, exhausted from a day of exploration and construction. Selene's hand rests gently in my sister's wild hair, and something in my chest loosens at the sight.

Family. Not bound by blood or clan law or necessity, but by choice. By the decision to stand together against whatever comes.

"Thank you," Selene says quietly, her voice barely audible over the waves.

"For what?"

"For this. For choosing us over everything else."

I reach out to brush a strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering against her cheek. "You saved my life in that valley. Both of you did."

"You saved ours first."

Maybe. Or maybe we just found each other at the right moment, when we all needed saving. When the alternative was losing everything that mattered.

"We should go inside," she says as Thali's breathing deepens into sleep. "Long day tomorrow."

Tomorrow we'll work on the roof. Next week, we'll build proper furniture. Before winter, we'll have completed the workshop and storage rooms. Simple goals, practical plans.

No grand conquests. No clan politics. No death camps or magical experiments or soldiers hunting us through mountain passes.

Just a home by the sea, and the people who chose to build it together.