Page 4

CHAPTER 4

G raal walked down the dank hallway on the basement floor of the apartment building. A single lantern hung from the roof, casting a faint brownish glow.

“You don’t need proper lighting down here,” Fernos the vampire landlord had told Graal when he’d shown him to his room. “Orcs and all you cave-dwelling beasts don’t need that sort of thing.”

At the time, Graal had ducked his head and let the insult hit him. He’d been fourteen and living on the streets for weeks. A darkish room was better than nothing.

And he couldn’t deny the comment held some truth. Graal couldn’t speak for other races, but orcs could see pretty well in low levels of light. Still, that didn’t mean they preferred it.

Snippets of Orcish, Troll, and Goblin conversations reached him from behind the half-dozen doors he passed. Several families and couples rented rooms down here on the basement floor. He was one of the few single occupants .

A door opened, and two orcs came out. They glanced at Graal as they passed him.

They grunted in greeting. Graal grunted back.

He knew other orcs found him odd. Whilst half-orcs weren’t rare, that he couldn’t speak the language made him an outsider.

Raised by his human mother and her human husband, Jordan, Graal had just never learnt the orc tongue. He’d rarely even heard the language growing up. When he’d first moved into the apartment building and seen the other orcs, he hoped to get to know them. But orcs tended to be a closed community, suspicious of those they didn’t know. And that he didn’t know the language did not help matters.

He reached his door at the end of the corridor, unlocked it, and stepped in. He lit the lantern and placed the loaves of brick bread, along with some smoked sausages and hard cheese he’d bought, on the table in the middle of the room. After going over to the basin of water on the side table, he undressed and placed his clothes into a sack.

He grimaced at the sight of the cloudy water in the basin. It hadn’t been changed today. The agreement with the landlord was that the water would be changed daily.

Sadly, Graal wasn’t even slightly surprised. This was not the first time it had been left dirty. But Graal knew better than to complain. It got him nowhere.

“You can find somewhere else to live if this place doesn’t suit your standards.” Fernos had sniffed.

Graal’s small room contained only a side table with a basin, a cupboard, a bed, and a table with two chairs. No mirror to help him wash. He didn’t need a mirror apparently.

“Why would you want to see a hideous face like yours every day?” Fernos had said with a laugh as he’d shown Graal the room .

Graal hadn’t even asked about a mirror. Fernos had just wanted to get the insult in.

At best, Graal was ugly. At worst, he was a horrifying monster no mother could ever love.

Still, the agreement was that the landlord would ensure the cleaning water was changed daily and his clothes would be washed. Not that Fernos saw to those chores himself. He hired others to do the dirty work for him. Despite that, it still hadn’t been done.

With a sigh, Graal washed using the dirty water. He put on cleaner clothes. Not clean clothes, since his laundry always came back poorly washed.

Still, he felt better after washing and changing. Then he sat at his table and grabbed the serrated knife. He sawed into the brick bread before biting into the hard slice. He chewed and chewed and continued chewing as he stared at a dark stain on the otherwise blank wall.

What did the pixie’s room look like? He couldn’t imagine Cas in a room like this with its stained blank walls, worn brown furniture, and faded linen. Not a scrap of colour or pattern brightened his room.

Cas’s room would be pretty. A pretty room for a pretty pixie. The room would be decorated with brightly coloured trinkets and fabrics. His wall would hold painted pictures, maybe even magicked or enchanted to sparkle and glow like Cas.

And of course, there’d be Christmas decorations. Christmas decorations for the Christmas pixie. Maybe silver baubles like the ones he wore from his ears today. No doubt there’d be a mirror so Cas could look at himself and see how lovely he was.

But this room suited someone like Graal. Basic, simple, plain, and ugly. He didn’t need pretty. He just needed a room to sleep and eat in. And he definitely didn’t need any of that Christmas nonsense. After all, he’d never had it. Why would he need it now?

At Christmas, his home had been bare when he’d been a child.

“Are we going to have a tree and presents?” Graal had asked his mother once as he put more wood on the fire.

He had overheard the other children in the street talking about them.

Jordan sneered at Graal and looked at Graal’s mother. “Don’t you dare buy a single present for that half-blood monster with my hard-earned money.”

Graal stared at the flames as they flickered. He shouldn’t have asked. He knew he shouldn’t have brought it up. But he’d heard the other children talking. He had gotten his hopes up.

“If you want to get him presents, go find his father in whichever cave you fucked him in,” Jordan spat. “Tell that orc to provide for his bastard son. And he can take the boy too whilst he’s at it.”

“You don’t need to work yourself into a huff!” Graal’s mother snapped. “I never said we’d be getting him presents. And we won’t be.”

Graal glanced at his mother. She sat looking at her husband before turning her gaze to the fire.

Despite the fact Graal was beside it, she hadn’t even spared Graal a glance.

Graal didn’t really know how his human mother and orc father had met. But he knew he’d already been born when Jordan and his mother met. For a while, he’d wondered if she’d been assaulted by his father, but from the snippets he’d picked up on, she’d run off with his father. A few months later, she’d returned to the city pregnant.

Jordan had hated Graal. Not that Graal’s mother had given two shits about him either. She’d taught him how to do chores around the house. But other than that, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. Honestly, he’d never known why he’d not been dumped at a foundling home or kicked out onto the streets. Perhaps he’d been cheaper than a servant.

Graal swallowed the bread he’d been chewing. The chunk slid down his throat and landed heavily in his stomach like it always did. But brick bread was filling and cheap, and it would keep him going. Orcs like him didn’t need lovely sugar cookies or delicate baked goods.

They’d be wasted on him. Graal lifted his massive hand. He’d probably accidentally crush the cookies on the way home. And no doubt the little cookie would look ridiculous in his big ugly paw.

Graal took a bite of the sausage and swallowed it down. Then he bit into the cheese.

Growing up, Graal’s mother had barely looked at him, even when talking directly to him. “Mop the floor,” “Clean out the fireplace,” and “Wash the dishes.” She had told him what chores needed to be done, but she’d never looked him in the eyes. It was like she couldn’t ever bear to look at him.

Graal had been fourteen when Sam, Graal’s half-brother, had been born just a few months before Christmas. They’d kicked Graal out of his room. Sam had needed it, so Graal slept on the floor in the kitchen, which Jordan had said suited him, since Graal did all the chores.

Then one day, soon after Sam was born, Graal had been carrying armfuls of firewood to their home.

He spotted his parents in the street, talking to several neighbours.

“You haven’t met our son yet, have you?” Jordan held Sam in his arms, beaming down. “Isn’t he a good-looking boy?”

The neighbours cooed .

“We are so blessed to finally have a son,” his mother said with a smile as she gazed down at Sam.

Graal’s world tipped. She looked up then. His mother’s eyes landed on Graal. Her smile dropped. Then she looked away, back to her newborn son. Her smile returned, and she resumed doting on the son she wanted.

Numb, Graal entered their home.

His footsteps stuttered as he spotted a Christmas tree in the main room. His mother and Jordan must have set it up whilst he was out. Shiny tinsel and baubles decorated the green branches. His throat clenched.

Pretty little presents wrapped in brown paper lay beneath the tree. Graal didn’t need to ask. He knew none were for him.

These were for Sam. This Christmas, this tree, these decorations—it was all for Sam.

Graal put down the firewood. He walked to the window and stared out at his mother with the family she wanted. In the reflection of the window, he could just make out his own features: his tusks, his pointed ears, his big green, ugly face. No wonder his mother despised him. Graal was hideous. A monster.

He returned to the kitchen and grabbed his few possessions. He left his home without a word.

He doubted his mother had cared.

After that, he’d lived on the streets for a couple of weeks until he found a job at the quarry. It had taken him a little longer to find a room. The first few places he’d gone wouldn’t even take an orc tenant.

He took another bite of the bread and chewed. His thoughts drifted to Cas. The pixie had been so excited and happy, showing off all the baked goods, trying to get Graal to buy something.

But then Graal had made his smile drop .

Just like the sight of his repulsive face had made his mother’s smile drop all those years ago.

Graal stopped chewing. He let out a breath.

He never knew why his own mother had always hated him so much. Was it because he reminded her of his father? Graal didn’t know. He chewed.

He wished he hadn’t ruined Cas’s mood. Guilt churned inside him, making the bread sit heavier in his stomach than it normally did. He might not like Christmas, but the pixie clearly did.

Why hadn’t he tried the cookies? Then the pixie wouldn’t have stopped smiling.

Maybe…maybe Graal could order something tomorrow. Maybe he could buy one of the dainty cookies. He might look silly doing it. They would be wasted on him. But it could make the pixie happy.

And Graal would like to be the cause of someone’s happiness for once. He’d like to cause someone to smile, rather than be the reason they stopped.