Page 53 of Bound in Flames

“The first, I saw the clan standing against the Darkness, forming a circle around the women and children. We stood side by side, bloody like we had been fighting. The Shadows kept coming and they consumedeverything. They wrapped around you and pulled you in. I tried to hold on, but I wasn’t strongenough. The darkness swallowed us all. I could only watch as everyone screamed and begged for help.”

I paused to draw in deep breaths, my chest tightening as the memory of it surged back, the well of emotion constricting my throat. “There was nothing left, just a void, and it felt like it would swallow me too. The quietness of it was…” I trailed off, shaking my head.

His eyes were dark with fear, his hand dropping from my chin to grasp my hands instead. “And the second?”

I hesitated, the second vision flashing through my mind. It had been so vivid, so overwhelming, that even now, it felt like a part of me was still trapped in that moment, reliving the pain. “The second was different. The Darkness came, just like before. But this time, I stepped forward to meet it. My magic—it wasn’t just inside me anymore. It was everywhere, wrapping around the clan, shielding them.”

His gaze burned into mine, his expression haunted as he listened. “You meanus.”

Thick tears clouded my vision. “I fought back, and my magic destroyed the Darkness. It wiped it out completely, burned it away until there was nothing left-” My throat raw with emotion.Breathe, Cleo.I took a heavy breath, my chest heaving as I fought off the mounting panic.

“I saw myself glowing, burning from the inside out. The magic was too much and it turned on me. You shielded the clan from it, somehow you kept them safe as you watched me burn,” A tear slipped down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. “When the pain stopped and light faded, there was nothing left of me but ash.”

The silence that followed was thick. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Dex, couldn’t bear to see whatever emotion was written in his expression. But he didn’t let go of my hands. His thumbs stroked over my knuckles, reminding me that he was still there.

“Don’t be scared Cleo, we will find a way.” His voice was desperate, doing nothing to calm my racing thoughts.

I nodded as the truth of his words settled over me. “I don’t want to lose myself, Dex. But I don’t want to lose you, or this clan, either. What if… what if I can’t find another way?”

“There is always another way. I refuse to lose you when I have only just found you!”

I looked up at him, my eyes searching his for some kind of reassurance. “But what if the magic takes over, like it did in the vision? How can I stop it?”

He shook his head, his grip on my hands steady and unyielding. “Then I’ll be there to pull you back. Always. You won’t fight alone, Cleo. Not while I’m breathing. You pull on our bond and you hold on tight. That’s what mates are for.”

His words broke something inside me, a dam that had been holding back the weight of my fear and uncertainty. A sob slipped past my lips before I could stop it, and Dex pulled me into his arms without hesitation. His embrace was crushing, his hand cradled my head as he held me tight to his chest.

“I’m scared.” My voice was muffled against his chest.

“I know. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”

I clung to him, the warmth of his presence slowly easing the cold knot of fear and despair in my chest. His words, his touch, his unwavering belief in me. They were enough to help keep the anxiety at bay.

“Chieftain?”

We turned to see an older orc woman standing at the entrance to the hall, her silver hair braided and adorned with small beads. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to Dex, her expression unreadable.

“Seer Arna sent me. She asks that you and the shaman join her in the healer’s rooms. we have more injured.”

The airin the mountain stronghold carried a quiet stillness, a sense of anticipation before the inevitable storm of conflict. I had spent most of the day in the infirmary, tending to the sick and injured. The stronghold’s infirmary was carved into the stone like much of the fortress, but despite the unyielding rock walls, the room was alive with warmth. The scent of herbs mixed with the faint tang of wood smoke softened the space. Healers moved quietly between the injured warriors, the elderly, and the children. It was a place where strength and vulnerability coexisted.

At first, being surrounded by so many lives depending on my help had been overwhelming. But as the days had passed, something shifted. I found myself connecting with the orcs—not just as their shaman, but as someone learning their hopes, their fears, and their quiet moments of resilience. Their stories, their laughter, even their pain—every piece of it wove into something larger than myself. It felt like a family.

Standing at the bedside of a young warrior, I inhaled deeply, grounding myself as I called on my magic to heal. His face was pale, his breath was shallow, the deep gash on his leg festering despite the other healers’ best efforts.

I placed my hands over the wound and closed my eyes to reach for the threads of magic within me. By now, the sensation was becoming second nature, though it still resisted when I pulled on it. It was like weaving together strands of vitality, pulling them tight to mend what was broken. Green light glowed beneath my palms, flowing into the wound like water into parched earth.

The orc’s life force pulsed beneath my fingers, steady but weak, and I focused on feeding it, strengthening it. Slowly, I wove the magic into his torn muscles and damaged tissue, binding it with care and pushing out the corruption until the jagged edges softened. The would quickly closed, leaving smooth, unmarred skin.

The warrior sighed in relief, his breathing evening out as the pain ebbed away. His amber eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude. “Thank you, shaman.”

I offered a small, reassuring smile in return, grateful to be able to bring relief. “Rest now. You’ll be back on your feet soon.”

He nodded, the exhaustion pulling him back into a peaceful sleep. I stood, wiping the sweat from my brow, and glanced around the room. The firelight cast a soft glow across the infirmary, deepening the shadows and softening the hard lines of the stone. It felt like a place where the strength of the orc people was distilled—not just in their warriors, but in their mothers, their children, and their elders. Each of them a thread in a tapestry that had endured so much and refused to fray.

Moving from bed to bed, I continued my work, using the magic I was still learning to wield. With every life I touched, I felt myself forging deeper connections—not just as a healer, but as someone becoming a part of their story. Fathers, daughters, sisters, sons. Their lives not defined by the shadows gathering outside but by the moments of joy and resilience they carved out here, in the heart of the mountain.

An older woman with silver-threaded hair and sharp green eyes took my hand after I healed her aching joints, her grip surprisingly strong. “You’ve got the hands of a true healer, not just in your magic, but in your heart.”

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