Page 14 of Lost to the Orcs

“Will he lie?” The words bring a smile to my lips.

U’snar grimaces. “I cannae say. Usually, he is honest. But he is grieving.”

So, with that in mind we walk up to what I would call a mud hut. A house made of mud with a mud top. It doesn’t look flammable which is good. But it is still completely unattractive. U’snar laughed at the face I made when I first saw it and I smacked his forearm since I couldn’t hit any higher without stretching on my toes.

“Irf.” U’snar calls from the other side of the walled curtain. There isn’t even a door.

A cough is heard on the other side and some language is uttered. Sounding surly and irritated.

U’snar replies in an equally surly and irritated tone before taking my hand and bodily walking in.

Irf snaps up from his slumped position over the table. There are barrels of what I’m assuming is soured liquor all over the place. And most of them, empty. But what strikes me most, is when the sun comes in the room and glances off the Orc at the table, I can see how attractive he is.

He is no Orc like U’snar. Though U’snar assures me he is smaller than some, Irf is even smaller. He’s maybe a bit over six and a half feet but he’s still a head shorter than U’snar. His hair is long, swept up on one side to tangle into a sloppy bun, while the other side has fallen out of it and is in a wave like loop where some strands still hang onto the bun like their lives depend on it. His eyes are a shade of burgundy brown, and his skin is a pale green with a peach undertone. His ears are just like U’snars except his have several earrings. Including chains and feathers dangle beautifully from them.

I can see why he would probably get U’snars romantic partners, especially those who weren’t serious. U’snar is a commitment simply for the fact that he is an Orc. Irf might be an Orc but he could also be an elf. Or the closest thing to what a human and an Orc could look like.

Irf’s eyes stare holes into my skin. Not too kindly, I might add. He looks at me like I cannot compare. As if I am shit upon his boots. He barks something at U’snar. His tone even more surly than before. U’snar is right to say that this male is in mourning. He seems to be hating the very air that I breathe just because I am human.

U’snar shakes his head, speaking in the language my brain seems to understand. “I weel no’ insult my mate by speaking around her.” Awww, you big handsome guy. Thank you.

Irf barks a laugh before walking not so steadily towards me. His eyes are hooded and full of angry fire. “She doesnae smell o’ ye, U’snar. Nor o’ Jaedason. She is no Orc mate.” He sneers at me and I cringe a step back. “She will leave once she has a taste o’ Orc seed ock? Will take away ouer sons an’ daughters like all o’he rest!” He waves a clawed hand at me as if to dismiss me from his presence.

“She is delight an’ beloved. Pretty Little Lost. Mate an’ mine.” U’snar insists.

The sharp tang of Irf’s pain is a flavor so sodden with salt and sorrow, it feels like I am drowning in a sea. I can but imagine how terrible it must be to lose as he did. Tears track softly down my cheeks. “For ye, I would hope. For Jaedason, I pray. We have lost many a mate an’ many a child t’he after. Now, please, leave me.” I watch as he wraps the dirty robe he is wearing tighter around his thin form. He turns, truly dismissing us. The light catches his eyes and my lips fall with a silent gasp.

Oh. Oh my god. I can’t believe it didn’t hit ‘till just now. H’nash was sharing. U’snar said H’nash was sharing with Irf! It was both of their child. Just as U’snar and Jaedason lost theirs, he not only lost a child, but a mate, and a father. But I know any reassurance I try to provide will be met with hostility. The pain in his eyes cannot hide behind the bitterness.

“Wait!” I grab at a sleeve but immediately remove my hand when he bares his teeth at me in a snarl. “Please,” I implore. “I need to know if I have seen a dream weaver.”

“I am ‘he only dream weaver in these parts an’ I donnae know ye.” His words are a growl as he gazes at me with disgust.

“Please, check. I need to know.” I hold up my hands for him to inspect. Whatever he will need. I have to know.

Growling in irritation, Irf grips my wrists in a biting grasp, causing me to yelp in pain. I shake my head when U’snar steps forward to break the connection between us. He stops but glares at his nephew.

Irf’s brows meet in a deep frown. His grip loosens as his eyes become faraway. A pale imitation of the deep colors that swirled therebefore. “Yer no’—but that is impossible.” He mutters. “I cannae…” he drops my wrists as if I’ve burnt him. He steps back, horror in his gaze. Fear slices through me. “Ye’re dead. I should ‘ave… Ye donnae smell o’he dead. It would ‘ave smelled foul ‘he second ye entered ‘ere. How are ye walkin’? Breathin’?”

“I was shot. I thought I was dying. But I woke up here.” I whisper.

The male shakes his head. “No. ‘he soul in this body must ‘ave died. This,” he indicates all of me, “is no’ yer body.”

Mouth agape I stare at him rightfully as if he’s lost his mind. Maybe grief has addled him. If not the drink. “No. I’m pretty sure I know what my own face looks like and I’ve seen it.”

Irf snorts, rolling his eyes before waving at all of me. “It might be yer face but isnae yer body.” He turns and takes a swig of his drink from the table. He grimaces but asks, “What happened as ye were dyin’?”

Blinking, not sure what he means I let him know. I remember thinking about that book. I remember not wanting to die. I wished to continue my life. Fulfilled. Not die on my carpet.

He nods as if all of this makes sense to him. “Ye used magic. A primitive form. But ‘he spirit ‘ere answered. Like she was tired. Wanted t’ rest in ‘he after but her body, she knew would survive whate’er befell her. So, she took yer place.” His eyes so reminiscent of blood chocolate, bore into my own. “And ye took hers.”

“So, I’m dead?” My breath hitches and my hands start to tremble. U’snar takes my hand in his, bent forward at an angle. But I have eyes only for the male before us.

Irf’s mouth twists. “Yer true body likely is. Obviously, ye are no’.” He shakes his head. “I’ve only heard o’ this. Paralleled. H’nash would ‘ave loved t’ o’ seen ye. Vida also.” His hand absently caresses a small rectangle amidst the sticks and wet plates on the table.

A breeze flutters the cloth at the front once more. I suck in a breath. It’s not sticks but paint brushes. That breeze shows me all of the color everywhere. On the wet plates, the pallets, the walls. Everything was covered with the beautiful visage of this Vida and H’nash. On the table in the small rectangle, is a small family. An Orc, a woman, and a baby. All beckoning the viewer to join them.

“Thank you, Irf. May ‘he mother guide you.” The male scoffs but continues to stare at the painting. Caressing each of the faces in turn. “Jaedason asked me t’ see if you would be joining us in ‘he mountain?” There is a sort of pleading in U’snar’s voice but Irf merely shrugs giving a noncommittal grunt.

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