Page 58 of Her Orc Blacksmith

Heat slammed into me, dragging me out of sleep.

I bolted upright, my chest heaving. The air was thick—too thick. Smoke clawed at my throat, burning my lungs. The peaceful remnants of the night evaporated as reality crashed down around me.

The smithy was on fire.

“Vorgath!” I choked, my voice barely cutting through the haze. My hands fumbled in the darkness, desperate to find him. Bare skin—there. I shook him, harder than I meant to. “Wake up! We need to go, now!”

His eyes snapped open, confusion vanishing as alertness took over. He was on his feet in a single fluid motion, yanking me up beside him.

“Move!” His voice was a command that cut through the growing panic.

We scrambled for our clothes. I grabbed my shift, not bothering with the laces, while Vorgath roughly tugged on histrousers. We had to hurry. The flames were already licking at the beams above us, a hungry roar growing louder by the second.

Crack.

My eyes shot up in time to see part of the roof buckle. Vorgath moved faster than I could process, his arm shooting out to pull me back just as flaming debris crashed to the floor, inches from where I’d been standing.

“Stay close!”

His grip tightened on my arm as he led us through the chaos. The smoke was so thick now, it blurred everything. I could barely breathe—each gasp felt like inhaling fire. I stumbled, coughing, and in an instant, Vorgath scooped me up, his stride unbroken despite the flames closing in around us.

The door. Just get to the door.

We burst into the cool night air, gasping as the fresh air hit our lungs.

Vorgath set me down gently, his hands roving over my body. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice hoarse with worry.

I coughed again, shaking my head. “I'm fine. But the forge—”

Before I could finish, shouts erupted from the village. Flames danced higher, casting an eerie glow over the darkened homes. The fire was spreading—fast.

“Water! We need water!” A voice rang out, and suddenly, everything was moving around me. Villagers appeared, buckets in hand, forming a line to battle the inferno. But the flames were already too high, too strong.

I stood there, frozen for what felt like an eternity. The forge—my forge—was vanishing into the fire. Everything I’d worked for, everything I had built for Elias and me. Gone. Just like that.

“Soraya!”

Vorgath’s shout yanked me back to reality. A bucket was thrust into my hands before I could think. Reflexively, I tossed thewater at the flames, but it felt like throwing a cup of water into the ocean. Useless.

“Soraya, keep moving!” Thyri’s voice broke through the chaos. She ran toward me, her hair wild and face streaked with soot. She shoved another bucket into my hands, panting hard. Where had she come from?

The heat was unbearable. My skin burned, prickling under the force of the heat.

Vorgath reappeared beside me, a giant in the smoke and flames. His powerful arms hurled water at the blaze, his muscles straining as if he could will the fire to stop through sheer force. By the Alders, he was strong, but even he couldn’t fight a force this overwhelming.

I grabbed another bucket, throwing the water as hard as I could, but my eyes darted to my house, just across the street. Elias. He’s in there. Sleeping. Fear coiled tight in my chest. What if the fire spread? What if I couldn’t—

“I've got him!” Mrs. Crumble’s voice cut through my panic like a knife. She appeared beside me, her mossy hair singed at the ends. “Your boy's safe, love. He's with Milla.”

Relief hit me like a punch, leaving me gasping. Thank the Seven. I nodded, choking out a “Thank you,” though my voice barely worked. The weight of the fear loosened its grip, but only slightly.

Mrs. Crumble nodded, then vanished in a swirl of leaves, reappearing moments later with an armful of wet blankets. She tossed them over the smaller flames licking at the edge of the forge, smothering them with surprising efficiency.

The bucket brigade stretched out before me, a line of grim faces illuminated by the sickly glow. I recognized old Godfrey the cooper, young Mya from the bakery, and even Lady Hargrave's gardener. As I worked alongside my neighbors, gratitude washed over me. These people had come running in the dead ofnight to help. Yet even as warmth bloomed in my chest, a chill of isolation crept in.

They were here now, fighting alongside me, but tomorrow? When the embers cooled and reality set in?

I'd be alone again, facing the ruins of my dreams.

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