Page 13 of X’nath (Dark Orcs of Helfallow)

13

Welcome Home

X’NATH

T he roar of excitement from the clan was deafening, a wave of energy crashing over us as we made our way deeper into the heart of the mountain. Orcs poured from every corner of the cavern, their voices booming as they rushed to greet their returning warriors. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with pride and the kind of rough camaraderie that only orcs could create.

I watched quietly, my eyes scanning the sea of faces. They were mostly older warriors, grizzled veterans of battles long past. The women among them were few, and well beyond the age of childbearing. The younger women, though I had my fair share of flirting with them, have all been mated by now. The children were all boys—young, eager, and growing fast—but there were hardly any females left to carry on the next generation. It was a harsh reality that gnawed at me as I stood there, taking in the scene.

We needed the women. And now that they were here, the clan’s survival, their future—it was all tied to their presence. Without them, our bloodlines would wither. I glanced at Gracie, watching her closely. She had been quiet, her eyes wide as she took in the bustling scene around her. She didn’t look scared, not exactly, but I could see her hesitation, her uncertainty about this strange new world.

My gaze lingered on her, and despite everything else—despite the boisterous greetings, the clamor of voices, and the celebrations—I couldn't ignore the pull. Gracie was sharp, her quiet strength unmistakable. She wasn’t intimidated by this place, but I could see her weighing everything in her mind. As much as the other women had started to settle into the idea of being here, Gracie was holding something back.

I turned my attention back to the men. Greag and Vakgar were bantering with the others, playing down the dangers we had faced, making light of the swamp and the crone’s magic as if they hadn’t almost died in that hellhole. It was typical of them—trying to maintain the facade of invincibility, to keep the morale high. The last thing they wanted was to show any weakness, and I didn’t blame them. But I knew better.

“Those dragons don’t know when to quit,” Greag said, his grin wide as he clapped one of the younger orcs on the shoulder. “But we sent them running, didn’t we?”

Vakgar chuckled, his voice rough. “Yeah, for now. But there are more where they came from. Don’t get too comfortable.”

The banter continued, but I barely listened. My eyes kept drifting to Gracie, noting the way she watched everything with that quiet intensity of hers. She wasn’t like the others. She didn’t buy into the jokes or the bravado. There was a lot going on in that head of hers, and I wondered what she was thinking… what had she been through to make her this way.

The clan had rallied around us, but there was an unspoken truth in the air. We needed these women—not just for comfort, not just for companionship. They were the key to our future. Without them, without more like them, the orc race was on the brink of extinction. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it was the truth, and I could see the realization starting to settle on some of the faces around me.

As the clan members pressed in closer, offering their congratulations and making loud, exaggerated claims about how the warriors had saved the day, I stayed quiet. The noise, the laughter—it was all so much, so loud, and for a moment, I let myself drift. I had been part of this clan for longer than I cared to remember, but I had never felt this kind of pressure before. Not like this.

We had survived the swamp, but that was just the beginning. Now, it was time to see if we could make this work. Make them trust us. Make it work for all of us. But the real challenge? That was still ahead.

As the cheers began to die down, I turned back to Gracie. She was watching me now, her eyes searching mine. There was no judgment there, but there was something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

"Not exactly what you expected?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence between us.

Her lips twitched in the smallest of smiles, though there was still something guarded in her expression. "No. But it’s... impressive."

I nodded, understanding. "You’ll get used to it. And if you don’t, we’ll make sure you’re protected. No matter what."

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze softened just a fraction, and I felt that small connection between us deepen. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that, at least, was something.

The orcs continued to crowd around us, their voices booming with excitement and celebration. The sheer energy in the air was overwhelming, and yet, it felt like we were all part of a much larger, ancient rhythm. The warriors were glad to see us back, but they were just as eager to show off their pride in their clan. It wasn’t just a homecoming for us—it was a statement of survival, a triumph.

“Greag! Vakgar! You’ve brought back something special this time!” one of the older orcs, Korak, shouted as he clapped the two of them on the back. His eyes flickered to the women behind us with open approval. "And I see you’ve brought us life too."

Greag grinned, puffing his chest out. “We’ve brought what we could, Korak. You’ve got no idea how bad things were out there. But we made it. Just like we always do.”

Vakgar chuckled, his deep voice carrying over the noise. “And just look at this—finally some females to help the future of this clan. About time, eh?”

Korak laughed boisterously, slapping Vakgar’s arm. “You mean ‘about time’ for you, don’t you? We’ll see how long it takes before they break your tough exterior.”

The others around us laughed, clapping each other on the back and exchanging greetings. It was a mix of pride and relief—these were orcs who had been fighting battles for years, and now they were seeing something new, something they hadn’t realized they needed so badly.

The younger orcs, who’d been holding back a little, were a little more subdued. They looked to their older warriors with respect but kept their eyes on the human females, as if trying to figure out how they fit into the puzzle of this strange new future.

“Tell me you weren’t out there just for the women,” one of the younger orcs, Rook, teased Greag, his voice light but carrying a touch of curiosity. “Tell me you didn’t just bring them back to keep this clan going, eh?”

Greag’s grin widened, and he shook his head. “If you think I did it for the women , Rook, you’ve got another thing coming. But sure, let’s go with that story. Easier than explaining the whole swamp mess.”

Vakgar nodded, his expression darkening just a little. “We did what we had to do. The swamp’s no place for any of us, but especially not for them.”

Rook tilted his head slightly, looking from the women back to us. “They’re different, aren’t they? They don’t look like us.”

“They’re survivors,” I interjected, my voice low but firm. I could feel the weight of the truth in my words. “They’ve been through things you haven’t. We all have.”

The men fell quiet for a moment, the shift in the air palpable. It was clear that Rook wasn’t the only one noticing the weight of the situation. The women weren’t just here as companions or to ease the burden of the orcs. They were part of something far larger—part of a changed future.

Greag nodded at me, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “Yeah. They don’t need to be coddled, X’nath. But they also don’t need us messing this up.”

Vakgar grunted in agreement. “What they need is a safe place to breathe. We’ve got the mountains now. But the question is... do we really have a place for them?”

I looked back at the females. Some of them still looked hesitant, still trying to piece this place together in their minds. It wasn’t just the orcs that were different—it was the world around us. The mechanical contraptions, the clanging of metal, the firelit forges... it was a far cry from what they had known. I could see the uncertainty in their eyes, but I also saw their determination.

“Let them settle in first,” I said, finally. “They’ll find their place. Just like we did. But I won’t have you disrespecting them.”

Korak laughed loudly. “Don’t worry, X’nath. No disrespect here—if anyone’s going to get things done, it’s the ones who survive, right?”

The rest of the clan laughed in agreement, their voices booming with the kind of camaraderie that came from years of fighting side by side. But as the cheers died down, I caught a glimpse of Gracie again, still standing quietly off to the side. She hadn’t joined in the conversation, hadn’t really let her guard down.

I took a step closer, my voice low enough only she could hear it. “You seem to have a lot on your mind.”

She glanced at me, and for a moment, I could see the weight of everything in her eyes. She wasn’t asking for answers, but she wasn’t offering them, either.

“Just... trying to figure out what’s next,” she said quietly, her voice a little more guarded than usual.

I nodded, respecting her silence. “A strong female like you, I have no doubts you’ll figure it out.”

"It’s not like you gave us any choice in the matter," she snapped. I was taken aback, yet oddly drawn to her. No matter what we faced out there, nothing seemed to dampen her inner fire—and, truth be told, I didn’t want it to.

"Well, if you wanted a choice, I could’ve given you one," I teased, trying to throw my best charming smile her way. "But then again, why would you want to choose anything other than me? I’m your best chance at survival, after all."

She shot me a look that could freeze fire. "Keep talking, X’nath, and you’ll find out just how good I am at surviving without you," she said, crossing her arms, clearly not impressed.

I laughed, the challenge in her voice only making me more interested. "I’ll take my chances. Though I do admire a woman who knows what she wants."

She scoffed, clearly annoyed, and turned away. "You’re really not as charming as you think you are."

That only made my grin widen. Something about her rejection—the way she stood her ground—made me want to get closer, to see if I could break through that tough exterior.

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us. "You know, for someone who pushes me away, you’re making it pretty obvious that you’re intrigued," I said, my voice low, teasing. My eyes swept over her face, trying to gauge the cracks in her composure.

She didn’t back away, but her stance stiffened. "I’m not intrigued, X’nath," she snapped, turning to face me fully, her expression one of pure exasperation. "I’m just trying to survive. And that means dealing with you, no matter how insufferable you are."

I couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped me. "You say that like it’s a bad thing. Most women would be flattered by the attention."

Her eyes narrowed, and the fire in them was unmistakable. "Trust me, X’nath, I’m not interested."

I paused, letting her words sink in, the sharpness of her rejection only making my pulse race. The way she looked at me—defiant, stubborn—was more of a challenge than I’d ever expected.

But instead of retreating, I leaned in just a little more, my voice softer now. "Maybe you should be."

She stepped back, her gaze cold, and for a moment, I thought I saw the hint of a smile tug at the corner of her lips. It wasn’t a smile of amusement, though. It was more like a silent victory.

"Take the hint through your thick skull, X’nath," she repeated firmly, her voice calm but resolute.

I stood there for a moment longer, studying her, letting the silence stretch between us. She clung so stubbornly to whatever idea she held, but I couldn’t help wondering—what would it be like to have that kind of loyalty by my side? Didn’t she realize that, as much as she tried to highlight what she saw as faults in me, it only made her own strengths shine even brighter? Her honesty was refreshing.

But for now, I stepped back, watching her turn away with that same determined posture.

The challenge was on, and this was far from over.

But I was looking forward to the fight.