David Dalglish: Weight of Blood

“Well, yeah, some jumps and flips. We tried to see how high we could make one climb before… what?”

She was smiling, but when pressed she refused to answer him. Instead, she stood, brushed off her dress, and flipped her hair over her shoulders. “Same time tomorrow?” she asked.

“Sure,” Harruq said. “But how many times will we be doing this?”

Aurelia shrugged. “Until I feel you have paid me back.”

“So what, a couple days?”

“You know very well I can’t obtain any proficiency in such a short time,” she said.

Harruq shrugged. “Fine then,” he said. “How long you want me stuck here with you?”

“Two weeks,” she said. The elf danced away behind a tree. Harruq followed, but all he caught when he stepped around was a tiny line of blue fading on the afternoon wind.

“Well that was interesting,” he said before returning to Woodhaven.

D eeper into the forest, Aurelia stepped out of a glowing blue portal. An elf waited there, a wicked bow slung across his back.

“So do you think it could be him?” he asked her.

“Perhaps,” Aurelia said. “I think it’s in him. Something is wrong, though. He’s too light hearted, too free.”

“What does that mean?” the other elf asked, his fingers twitching at the string of his bow.

“I don’t know, Dieredon.” Aurelia sighed. “It means he’s capable, but would not do so without reason. If he’s butchering the children, he’s doing it for someone else.”

“Who?” Dieredon asked.

She shrugged. “My guess is his brother. He sounds like a necromancer.”

Dieredon nodded. “I’ll find him, then, and watch him for a bit. If either of them slaughters another child I will see it, and I will end it.”

Aurelia pulled a few strands of hair away from her mouth and tucked them behind her ear.

“This seems like a small matter for a scoutmaster to be involved. Are you sure you have nothing more important to do?”

“Murdered human children?” Dieredon shrugged. “Let the humans and orcs do as they wish, but when they butcher their young they must be made to suffer. You were right to contact me, Aurelia.”

“I hope so,” Aurelia said. “I saw one of the bodies, and what was done to him, those vile carvings…”

Dieredon kissed her forehead.

“Put it behind you so you may focus on the task at hand. If the half-orcs are guilty, they will make a mistake soon enough. Your eyes and ears are vital in confirming their guilt.”

“I’ll try to keep him talking, then,” Aurelia said. “And I’ll find out more about his brother. I hope I can bear Harruq’s company in the meanwhile. He can be quite a brute sometimes.”

“Come now,” Dieredon said, his face suddenly brightening into a smile. “He sounds like a real fine man to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you two got married. Perhaps a kid or three. Little gray-skinned Aurrys crawling over the forest, wouldn’t that be cute?”

She smacked him with her staff and then teleported away, leaving Dieredon to laugh long after her departure.

W here did you get the bruises?” Qurrah asked when Harruq returned to their squalid home.

“Practicing,” Harruq said. “We have anything to eat?”

His brother motioned to a small plate of bacon and some eggs still in their shell.

“Wonderful.”

The smaller half-orc watched his brother wolf down the meal.

“Would you accompany me into madness?” he asked. Harruq gave him a funny look, half a piece of bacon still hanging in his mouth.

“Of course I would,” he replied. “If you go mad, I’ve got no chance in this world. You brains, me brawn, right?”

“Yes,” Qurrah said absently. “That’s right. But would you kill? Without reason, without pause. Could you?”

Harruq cracked open an egg and swallowed it raw.

“Don’t I do so already?” he asked. “If I had to pick between the world and you, the entire world would be a bloody mess.”

He swallowed the other egg, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and burped.

“Well put, Harruq,” Qurrah said.

D id you practice the spells I taught you?” Velixar asked as Qurrah took his seat by the fire.

“Yes,” Qurrah said. “I am more than pleased with them.”

“You will need to keep a fresh supply of bones with you,” Velixar said, reaching into his pouch. “Take these for now until you can obtain more.”

Qurrah accepted the bones, stashing them into a small pocket he had sewn onto his robe. A silence fell over the two as far away a wolf howled.

“I wonder,” Velixar said, gazing in the direction of the howl. “Do you have a brother?”

Qurrah shifted his weight a bit. “Why do you ask?”

Velixar looked up to the moon and stared as he spoke.

“I have had dreams. I see you beside me, a strong ally, but I see another half-orc leading my army. He is strong and wields two enormous swords. Again I ask, do you have a brother?”

Qurrah pulled out a bone from his pouch and stared at it.

“I do,” he said. “You wish for him to aid us?”

“He will do more than aid,” Velixar whispered to the moon. “His power is as great as yours, Qurrah. You two are vessels of flesh unseen in centuries. It is as if one of the gods had a hand in your creation.”

Qurrah chuckled. “If any god had a hand in creating us, we were forgotten soon after. We both have suffered, I more than Harruq. We never had a home, or a family. By will alone we survived. There is nothing special about us, not even our blood.”

“And that is why you are strong,” the man in black said with ever-changing lips. “All things are for a reason. Even those who dwell in the darkness such as I will not deny this truth. You were meant for me. I will train you, and you will aid me in sundering all that brings false stability to this chaotic world.”

“For death and power,” Qurrah whispered.

“For Karak,” Velixar corrected. “When can I meet your brother?”

The half-orc shrugged, and while he seemed calm, the man in black did not miss how his eyes still refused to meet his.

“Give me time,” Qurrah said. “Let me make sure he is ready.”

“Is he not open to Karak?” Velixar asked.

“He is open,” Qurrah said a bit too vehemently. A glare from Velixar calmed him before he continued. “My brother can be a mindless butcher, but he must be angered or spurned into battle. When peaceful, his mind entertains ideas that run… contrary to what he and I are.”

“And what is that, Qurrah? What are you and your brother?”

The fire sparked a shower of orange into the sky as Qurrah spoke.

“Superior.”

In the distance, elven eyes watched that cough of flame stretch to the stars, as well as the sight of those two huddled figures talking long through the night.

T he first week of training went well for both Harruq and Aurelia. The half-orc kept offensive, determined not to add a fresh set of bruises to his body. Aurelia still fell for the feints, however slow, but her blocks were already quicker and more precise. They fought until both collapsed against trees, their bodies soaked with sweat.

“You’re starting to get the hang of it,” Harruq said after their fifth session.

“Don’t flatter me,” Aurelia said, refastening one of her braids that had come loose. “You’re still going too easy.”

“If I move too fast you won’t learn anything,” Harruq insisted.

“How do you know?” she asked. “Do you train elves often?”

The half-orc grinned. “All the time. I’m known for it, in fact. Harruq Tun, trainer of elves, slayer of dragons, and man of the ladies.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Not this lady.”