Page 29 of Bound in Flames

“The walls were impenetrable,” one of the older orcs, Ograk, added, his voice rough with age. “Solid stone, reinforced with magic—our magic. Not the kind the human mages wield, but magic that came from the earth, from the stones themselves. Wild magic not unlike yours, shaman. We lived in harmony with the land, and it gave us its strength.”

My steps slowed as I took in their words, a quiet ache building inside me. The orcs weren’t just warriors, not just the fierce and strong race I had always imagined them to be. They were builders, traders, and farmers. They had been masters of the land.

Gornak continued, his voice taking on a rhythmic cadence as he recalled their way of life. “In the forests, we built hunting hides in the canopies—great platforms woven into the branches high above the ground, where our warriors would wait for the game to pass. We could move through the forest without a sound, using the trees as cover. The forest was our hunting ground, our sanctuary.”

Kaldor’s eyes shone with interest. “I didn’t know we had lived in the trees!”

Gornak nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Aye, we were one with the trees. We had hunting blinds and watchtowers hidden among the branches. No one could move through these forests without us knowing.”

There was a pride in his voice, but it was tinged with sorrow—sorrow for what they had lost.

“But the humans came.” Gornak’s voice hardened, the warmth draining away. “The Silver Hand came with their magesand their knights, with their armies of steel and fire. We fought with everything we had.”

“The first wave wasn’t so bad,” Ograk added, his tone dark. “They underestimated us. They thought we were nothing but savages. We drove them back, time and again. But then they brought their darkest magic, and cursed illnesses that ran through the clans.”

The air seemed to grow colder as the conversation shifted. Even the forest around us seemed to hold its breath, as though it, too, remembered the war that had scarred this land.

“The dark mages,” Gornak spat, his lip curling in disgust. “Their magic wasn’t like ours. It wasn’t born from the earth, from the stones and trees. It was something else—something darker and unnatural. They wielded death. Magic that consumed everything in its path.”

I felt a chill creep down my spine as I listened. The magic of the earth, the lifeforce that pulsed through the soil beneath my feet, was strong and steady, but I could feel the echoes of that other magic. The kind that sought only to corrupt and consume.

“Then came the knights.” Gornak’s voice dropped, heavy with memory. “They rode in and they never stopped. Our warriors fought with honor, but the humans... they didn’t care about honor. They didn’t care about the land or the people who lived on it.”

“Their goal was to take it all,” Ograk said bitterly. “To wipe us out, or push us out of Ostelan. We fought for every last inch. Until the rivers ran red with blood. But the humans outnumbered us. They brought wave after wave, more knights, more mages, and we?—”

He paused, his jaw clenched tightly. I thought he might stop speaking altogether, but then he took a deep breath and continued. “We knew we couldn’t win. Not in the end. So, the clans rode out to meet the Silver Hand, to give our peoplea chance to flee. I saw them kissing their wives and children goodbye, knowing they were going to certain death,” Gornak said quietly, his voice thick with grief. “A group of our oldest warriors stayed with the Chieftains in battle, holding the line long enough for the Chieftains’ mates to lead the clans back to their homelands, flanked by their personal guard. They all knew they were going to die. They gave their lives so that the rest of their clans could live.”

I swallowed hard, the full weight of their sacrifice settling heavily in my chest. The orcs hadn’t just lost their land. They had lost their people, their culture, their way of life. And they had been forced into hiding because of it. My throat burned with unshed tears as I could imagine the despair as they ran for their lives.

“The Blackfoot Clan retreated to the mountains,” Ograk continued, his voice quieter now. “The humans didn’t follow us here. They thought we were broken, that we were beaten. They left us in these rocky caves torot, thinking we would wither and die.”

“But we survived,” Dex said, his voice filled with quiet defiance. “We rebuilt, but we never forgot what was taken from us. We never forgot the price we paid.”

I could hear the pride in his voice, but also the bitterness—the anger that still simmered just beneath the surface. Humans had tried to massacre them, and now they were another race fighting to survive, clinging to the remnants of their former glory.

Kaldor glanced at his Chieftain, his brow furrowed. “Do you think we’ll ever reclaim what we lost?”

Dex didn’t answer right away, his gaze sweeping over the forest below, the trees that had once been their sanctuary. “Maybe,” he said finally, his voice low as he glanced at me.“Maybe one day. But we’ll need more than just strength to do it. We’ll need allies, and we’ll need the land to fight with us.”

The land. The earth. The lifeforce that pulsed beneath our feet.

I glanced down at my hands, feeling the magic humming just beneath the surface of my skin.Me?The land had always been with them, hadn’t it? The orcs had fought with the earth at their side, drawing strength from it, just as I did now.

“You’re not alone,” I said quietly, the words slipping from my mouth before I could stop them. “The land is still with you. It hasn’t forgotten; it’s energy follows you.”

Gornak’s gaze shifted to me, his eyes narrowing. I thought he might brush my words aside, but then he nodded slowly. “Maybe,” he murmured. “Maybe you’re right.”

We continued on, the mountain path growing steeper, the cold air biting at my skin with every step. I could feel the pulse of the earth beneath me, steady and strong. The orcs had lost so much—more than I could ever imagine—but they had survived. And now, with the magic inside me, I felt a strange sense of responsibility to help them.Could I do that without turning my back on my own people?

The mountain rose before us, its shadow growing with each step, a silent sentinel of stone. Dex’s hand brushed against mine again, a silent reassurance that he was there, by my side. Our eyes met, the determination in his a mirror of my own.

I felt the pulse of the earth beneath me, steady and sure. The past couldn’t be undone; its scars were etched deep into the land and its people. But perhaps, with time, those scars could become part of a new foundation. Maybe we could begin to heal what had been broken, to grow something new from the ashes of destruction.

Dex’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and filled with conviction. “I’m proud to call you my mate. Your spirit isstrong. Your courage to confront the lies you were raised with is remarkable.”

His words washed over me like a tide, swelling a warmth in my chest that no cold mountain air could touch. There was a tenderness in the way he held on, as though I were something precious.

“Dex, you give me too much credit. I understand what it’s like to suffer, to feel powerless. I don’t want anyone to feel that way.”

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