Page 5 of Storms & Sacrifice
A shaman is a natural spellcaster, like a druid or a witch. They get their spellcasting powers from a connection to the world around them—the whole “magic is everywhere” deal. All natural casters can see and communicate with nature spirits, but shamans’ abilities allow them to connect to them directly, able to channel and amplify the spirits’ powers with their own. I know all this because Mike used to go on and on about random magical info.
“So,thisis one of the little shits I felt a few weeks back.” Wu’dag gives me a once over. “Scrawnier than Iexpected.”
“I’m working on it.”I’ll show him a littleshit…wait.
“Huh.” The older orc steps closer, squinting his eyes as he peers at me. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a weird aura, kid?”
“...Not exactly.” They didn’t use the wordweird. “My twin is a wizard. I’ve got um...”Shit, what did that woman from the elven institute call it?“Latent magical potential. All my siblings do, but me a little more. It rubbed off on me, or we share enough of the same genes or something?”
I’m not doing a very good job of explaining it, but it basically means that while I can’t use magic to cast spells, I still have some flicker of it inside me. It’s like having the flint but no fuel for a fire. There’s no way to “turn on” the magic because there’s nothingtoturn on; it just is what it is. Nowadays, it doesn’t mean much since most magical items are configured to work for anyone, but it used to be that they’d have to be powered, or at least activated, by the magic of the person wielding them. A spark to lightthe flame.
“Huh.” He squints again. “Yeah, I guess that could do it. Looks like we need an extra compass stone.” He stands up straight and turns to the rest of the group. “Alright, stones out. Time tosync up.”
All of the orcs around me, including the shaman, reach into their pockets and pull out smooth red-colored stones, no more than an inch or two wide. They gather in a circle, hands outstretched, clutching the stones together. The shaman takes his free hand and holds it aloft over them, slowly chanting a spell. I see Wu’dag’s eyes glow first followed by the stone in his hand, then I see the same glow coming from each of the others’ enclosed palms.
“This is for him.” Wu’dag drops the stone he held in Khazak’s open palm. “I will be in my tent if youneed me.”
“Alright, David and I will take the first patrol, then Glasha, then Arik.” Khazak speaks to his troops. “See you back here for dinner.”
Everyone salutes and disperses, Khazak turning to me. “We will fill our waterskins and grab our equipment, then head out. We will be walking for at least a coupleof hours.”
My eyes go wide. Hours? Wow, okay. We go back to the tent and retrieve our weapons and a pair of waterskins from Khazak’s supply bag. After filling them at a barrel under the big tent, we start to walk away from camp. I see the illusion warble as we pass through it, and a glance behind us reveals nothing but the forest. We walk for a while, not following any sort of path that I’m able to pick up on. I try to look for landmarks like before but don’t see anything. We go straight for a while before turning in another direction. We do this for a while in silence before I finally need to ask.
“Are we following an actual route here?” My voice ringing out in the quiet forest almost sounds wrong.
“Hmmm.” Khazak smiles, considering me for a moment. “Yes and no. There is a general path we are following, but we have a lot of leeway. We need to cover a certain amount of ground, and sticking too much to the same path might make it easy for someone toslip by.”
“Is that something you have to worry about a lot?” It seems like they’ve been doing thisfor years.
“Not really, but we do not want to get complacent.” He turns to me and smirks. “Cannot have someone raiding our ancienttemples.”
I roll my eyes at the obvious dig.That was one time!We continue walking in relative silence. It’s nice though. After spending these past weeks together, the two of us have gotten pretty comfortable around each other. Plus, seeing as this is a patrol, spending the whole time talking would be distracting and kind of defeatthe point.
“I was curious...” The sun is starting to set when Khazak breaks the silence between us. “Does it still bother you when people bring up the arena and ritual? Our match?”
“I wouldn’t say it bothers me, exactly.” I’ve gotten over that part of it, at least. “It can just be a little embarrassing when I think I’m meeting someone new, and it turns out they were a witness to me very publicly losing my virginity.”
“Would you like me to say something?” It’s a genuine request. Despite what he says, I know there are some aspects of the way we “met” that he still feels guilty over.
“No, I know they don’t mean anything by it.” I can handle the teasing. I know it’s notmalicious.
“Alright, another question. Was that truly your first time?” It’s not an accusation; there’s a measure of concern in his voice betraying why he’s asking. “Not that I have any reason to doubt you. I just know by the time I was your age I had already experimented quite a bit with both men and women.”
“I mean, you know I had girlfriends. I did alotof kissing back in the day, and I’ve touched more than my fair share of tits over dresses. But no,” I shake my head, “you’ve been my first for everything else.”
“I see.” He’s trying not to, but I can hear a little disappointment. “I feel I need to apologize. Your first time should have been more—”
“Hey, come on. We’ve been through this already.” I turn to face him, walking backward. “Not only were we both tricked, I ended up liking it anyway. Plus, as screwed up as it was, you can’t say it wasn’t memorable, right?”
“I suppose you are correct,” Khazak huffs, begrudgingly agreeing with me. This has been a minor sticking point for us. He continues to relive his guilt over what happened—him basically ravishing me in an arena full of strangers—while I would just prefer to move on.
“What wasyourfirst time like?” I jump at the chance to change the subject. I’ve never actually heard him talk about anyone in his past like that before.
“Awkward and hurried. And a little painful.” Khazak shakes his head as he recalls. “I think we were fifteen? Me and another boy from school. We were in my bedroom, and somehow the house was empty. We had no idea what we were doing.”
“Painful, huh?”I know that feeling.
“Yes, but not for the reason you are thinking,” he gripes. “He was very...enthusiastic about oral sex.Tooenthusiastic. He sucked me so hard, he gave me... I think you call them ‘hickeys’ on the head ofmy cock.”
