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 thewhy, 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?