Page 27 of X’nath (Dark Orcs of Helfallow)

27

Unveiling the Truth

GRACIE

I t had been two days since I’d seen X’nath or Yargol. Karg had returned, and it seemed Erin and he had patched things up quickly, her laughter echoed behind his home, their joy unmistakable. She had chosen to stay with him the other night, which left me alone in our communal home. Honestly, it was fine by me. My nightmares had been getting worse, and I didn’t want to disturb Erin with my growing issues. It was easier to suffer in silence, especially when I had no intention of letting anyone see just how fragile I was inside.

But each morning, I’d wake to find small gifts left outside my hut—wooden trinkets, fresh cuts of meat, and even a bouquet of wildflowers that seemed to bloom just for me. The other women had started noticing, their eyes filled with a mixture of envy and admiration, as if I had somehow won a prize. They teased me about it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Who was leaving these things? More importantly, why?

At first, I tried to ignore it. Gratefulness, yes, but the constant attention made me uneasy. It was as though I was a pawn in some twisted game, being set up for something I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

Then there were the chores—always mysteriously taken care of. Firewood stacked high outside my house each morning, meats for meals prepared without a word, and even my home’s roof patched up after a rainstorm without me lifting a finger. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate it; it was just the way it kept happening—too perfect, too precise.

I had survived far too long on my own to be coddled now. If someone was going to help me, they should at least have the decency to show themselves. After days of growing frustration, I decided to confront the one orc I suspected knew something—Old Barak, the one with the white beard who had winked at me with far too much familiarity. Maybe he was behind this strange kindness, and it was time I had answers.

With a determination I hadn’t felt in days, I marched toward his shop, my thoughts a mix of annoyance and curiosity. When I arrived, I found him outside in the back, bent over a workbench, meticulously arranging dried herbs with the air of someone who had all the time in the world.

“Old Barak!” I called out, my hands resting firmly on my hips. “We need to talk.”

His face lit up when he saw me, the surprised expression quickly replaced by an amused grin. “Ah, Gracie! A pleasure to see you. Come for a lesson in the finer arts of herbology?”

“No, I’ve come to ask about the gifts that have been showing up around my home,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You know something about this, don’t you?”

His chuckle rumbled in his chest as he ran a hand down his beard. “Gifts, you say? Well, it’s the least I could do for such a lovely lady. I might’ve had a hand in it or two... here and there.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? You did all of this?”

“Of course,” He puffed out his chest, clearly proud of himself. “It’s only fitting to shower the beautiful with some kindness. They say Old Barak’s heart is as big as his beard!”

But something in his eyes told me he wasn’t being entirely honest. I took a step closer, narrowing my gaze. The more he spoke, the more I could sense the half-truths lurking beneath his bravado, a glimmer of mischief dancing behind those wrinkled eyes.

“Look, Barak,” I said, my tone dropping to a quieter, more serious note. “I appreciate what you think you’re doing, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself—and the other women if necessary. We don’t need to be treated like we’re helpless.”

“Ah, but my dear, it’s not about helplessness. It’s about camaraderie, bringing a bit of joy into your day,” he replied, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

I stepped closer still, folding my arms. “If this is your idea of camaraderie, then you can stop. I want to know who’s really behind this. Someone is leaving me these things, and I deserve to know who.”

Barak hesitated, his smile faltering for the briefest moment before he cleared his throat, the mirth fading slightly from his eyes. “And what if it’s just a simple gesture of kindness? Must you ruin it with your probing?”

“Because I refuse to be a pawn in anyone’s game,” I shot back, frustration bubbling over. “I want the truth.”

Barak chuckled again, but this time, it sounded more guarded, almost reluctant. “Alright, my fiery friend. If you must know, I might have some inkling about it, but I can’t reveal my sources. A promise is a promise, after all.”

I squared my shoulders, stubbornly refusing to back down. “Then I’ll find out myself.”

“Careful, my dear,” he warned, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of amusement and something darker. “The truth isn’t always what it seems. Some things are better left to the shadows.”

With that, he turned back to his herbs, his attention clearly shifted. I stood there for a moment, trying to process everything he’d said. His words hung in the air like an omen, leaving me more determined than ever to uncover the mystery behind the gifts and the help I hadn’t asked for.

As I walked away from Barak’s shop, my mind was spinning. The nagging feeling of being watched, of being a pawn in someone’s game, ate at me. Whoever was behind this, I would find them. I wouldn’t rest until I knew their true intentions. Because if they thought I would sit back and accept their gifts without understanding the why , they had another thing coming. I wasn’t the type to let anyone hold something over me, especially not a debt that could be used against me later.

As I walked back to my home, my mind swirled with a cacophony of emotions—frustration at Barak’s cryptic behavior, confusion about the gifts, and a growing determination to uncover the truth. I pushed through the front door and paused, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

Just then, a figure popped into view from outside my window, startling me out of my thoughts. It was Garbock, the village alchemist. He stood there, a tall, eccentric orc wearing a wildly colorful hat made entirely of various plants. Flowers drooped from one side, while strange vines cascaded down the other, creating a surreal and somewhat comical appearance.

“Ah, Gracie!” he exclaimed, his voice bright and chipper. “Just the person I was hoping to see.”

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his enthusiasm. “Garbock, what are you doing here?”

“I came to deliver this,” He pulled a small vial from his pocket, filled with a fragrant, golden liquid that shimmered in the light. “It’s herbal tea—one that helps with night terrors. I thought you might like to try it. I added some Juniper and a drop of mugwort. Quite the concoction I made, if I do say so myself.”

I stared at the vial, then back at him, my mind racing. How did he know I was having nightmares to begin with? Was I screaming in my sleep or something? I flushed with embarrassment. “You made this? Why?”

His plant hat bobbed as he nodded vigorously. “Oh, you know how it is. I’ve heard tales of your nightmares. A female of your stature shouldn’t be troubled by such things. It’s bad for the spirit.” He leaned in closer with his elbow in my windowsill, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “And I happen to know just the perfect concoction for it.”

My heart raced as a realization struck me, hitting me like a wave. Garbock had been the one leaving those gifts. It had to be. My nightmares must have been worse than I realized. Wasn’t his home close to mine? He could have easily seen seen me the night I bolted out of my home, shaken and vulnerable, pacing.

“Why did you do this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of gratitude and frustration flooding through me. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Oh, little human, where’s the fun in that?” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “I wanted to surprise you. And besides, it’s much more rewarding when you realize the kindness comes from the heart.”

I felt my chest tighten. Was that truly it? I should have felt grateful, but all I could think about was the absurdity of it all. “And how many other people know about my nightmares?” What if they think I’m weak?

He laughed, his goofy demeanor unwavering. “We all have our struggles, and admitting them is a sign of strength. Besides,” he added with a conspiratorial wink, “what’s more powerful than a woman warrior who fights her own demons?”

I blinked at him, stunned by his earnestness. I was a mess of conflicting emotions—gratefulness for his kindness, annoyance at his lack of seriousness, and anger at the situation. “This is all so… ridiculous. I’m not a damsel, Garbock. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. But we all need a little help sometimes. Life is too heavy to bear alone,” he said, his tone sincere now. “You’re surrounded by a community that wants to lift you up, not bring you down.”

As he turned to leave, I felt a rush of mixed feelings—as well as the heaviness of betrayal, as if I was betraying X’nath.

“Wait!” I called after him through the doorway, my voice stopping him in his tracks. “You… you’ve been watching over me?”

Garbock turned, his expression softening. “Not just you, my dear. All the women. We’re all in this together, whether we like it or not. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

As he walked away, I stood there in the doorway, the vial of tea clenched tightly in my hand, a storm of emotions raging within me. I felt torn between the warmth of the unexpected support and the cold sting of my own pride.

But something still felt off. This whole interaction with both men... it wasn’t adding up. My mind raced as I thought about X’nath and Yargol—how long had it been since I’d seen either of them? Days? The gifts, the odd disappearance—none of it sat right with me.

I couldn’t just sit here, feeling unsettled. I was done waiting for answers. If no one was going to be straight with me, then I’d find X’nath myself and demand to know where he’d been. I wasn’t going to let this weird silence continue. I turned on my heel, ready to find him and get to the bottom of it once and for all.