David Dalglish - Weight of Blood

“Qurrah Tun, my lady,” Qurrah said with a bow that sent Harruq’s jaw dropping. “It is a pleasure to meet you. May I have the name of the one who has brought civility to my brother?”

Aurelia laughed at Harruq’s flabbergasted look.

“I am Aurelia Thyne,” she said, offering a quick curtsy. “And it will take years to civilize that big lug. I’m not sure I have the patience.”

“If your patience matches your beauty then my brother will soon be dressed in nobles’ finest, sipping wine and commenting on the taxing errors of our dear King of Neldar.”

Aurelia blushed. She smiled at Qurrah. “You surprise me. It truly is a pleasure to meet you.”

“And it is a pleasure to meet the elf that my brother is so smitten for.”

Aurelia giggled at Harruq’s squirming. “He’s a loveable puppy dog, but I do not think he is smitten. Are you, Harruq?”

“Um, course not,” the half-orc said. Aurelia and Qurrah shared a quick, knowing smile. The frail half-orc’s face lost much of its lifelessness, and a gentle caring filled his eyes. His seriousness quickly buried it, but Aurelia had seen enough.

“I shall leave you two to your studies and sparring,” Qurrah said after a long pause to torture Harruq. “Although I doubt the wisdom of leaving him alone with such a beautiful teacher.”

“Good thing you will not have to worry about that, considering I see no beautiful teachers around,” Aurelia replied.

Qurrah walked to Aurelia and bowed again, taking her hand in his and kissing it. As Aurelia smiled, he rose and whispered into her ear.

“He loves you, elf. I can feel it. Do you love him back?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Will you hurt him?”

“Never.”

“Then accept my blessing.”

Finished, Qurrah bowed once more, wished his brother good luck, and then trudged through the forest toward Woodhaven. When he was out of earshot, Aurelia walked over to Harruq and jabbed him in the side with a finger.

“Now why did you take so long to let me meet him?” she asked.

“I, but, he, but…”

“No buts. He was a perfect gentleman.”

The half-orc threw his arms up in surrender.

“Me just be all stoopid,” he said.

Aurelia twisted her fingers and whispered, causing a magical spring of water to burst up from the ground. The spring vanished quickly as it came, leaving a soaked Harruq glaring at Aurelia.

“Speak properly,” the elf warned, “or another bath for you.”

“Buh, wuh, you,” Harruq stammered.

“Yes, dear Harruq?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, walking over to her. Before she could react he swooped her off her feet and bear-hugged her, soaking her dress. He then set her down, ignoring her open-palm smacks to the side of his head.

“Stupid half-orc,” she muttered.

“Ready to teach me to read all smarty-like?”

“Yes. Just one second.”

Vines emerged from the woods and wrapped around Harruq’s arms and legs, lifting him off the ground and holding him snugly in place. The elf grinned, crossing her arms over her wet dress.

“Um, why am I hanging from the air like this?” he asked. A spring of water soaked him.

“Felt like it,” she answered.

“Oh. Alright. Should we start?”

“Sure.”

Aurelia took out a small book and levitated it before Harruq, letting him read aloud. Whenever he purposely erred, or took too long on a page, the elf blasted his face with cold water. It was an effective teaching method. When the half-orc finally finished the book, Aurelia let it slowly descend to her hands.

“Why does your brother speak so strangely,” she asked, trying to broach the subject casually. She sat stretched out on the grass, her legs crossed and her weight leaning back on her arms. The whole time they had taught she had found her mind wandering to the sick, spidery voice Qurrah spoke in, a voice that had nearly spoiled his otherwise surprising charm.

“Qurrah was sold to a necromancer. I told you that, right?”

Aurelia nodded. “I believe you did.”

“Well, he caught my brother practicing a spell once. Qurrah was forbidden from ever casting magic, yet he tried anyway. He’s like that, always been, always will. Anyway, his master took a hot poker and shoved it down his throat. Said that way he’d never cast again.”

Harruq chuckled.

“He was wrong, obviously. Qurrah was stuck talking like that. Like a snake hiss or a raspy whisper.”

“Or a dying man,” Aurelia whispered, so soft that Harruq could not make out her words.

“Could you let me down, now?” the half-orc asked. Aurelia shrugged.

“Ready to spar?”

“You bet.”

The elf ordered the vines to release him. Harruq landed with a plop, a drippy mess in stinking leather armor.

“Sparring time,” he said as he rose to his feet.

“I’m ready, water-boy” Aurelia said, taking up her staff and charging.

T he streets were all the same to him so down them all he wandered. The image of Aurelia and Harruq danced in his mind, and conflicting feelings tore up and down his chest.

“She seems a kind enough elf,” Qurrah said, talking to himself since he had no one else. “Beautiful as well. Of course Harruq would be attracted to her. We have elven blood in our veins, do we not?”

The words felt hollow against the constant ache in his heart. Hard as he tried, he could not place it. Was it anger? No. Surprise? A little, perhaps. Jealousy? Certainly not. Worry? Fear? Doubt?

The only emotion he was certain of was confusion. So he walked, and would walk for the rest of the morning, wishing there was something he could do to banish the sick, hollow feeling in his stomach. There was nothing he knew to do, though, and that made it so much worse.

T heir sparring ended, Harruq and Aurelia sat side-by-side against a tree, both glistening with sweat.

“Getting better,” the half-orc said. “You’re going to be beating the orcy out of me in a few weeks if you keep learning as fast as you are.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, patting his hand. “Your orcy is safe with me.”

Harruq laughed at the absurdity of what she said. Aurelia, meanwhile, absently drew lines in the dirt. He watched for a moment, suddenly nervous and quiet. The words of his brother echoed in his head.

“Aurry?” he asked. “You said most elves remember when men were created…do you know how orcs were made?”

The elf looked at him. She was trying to read him, Harruq could tell, but he endured it without protest.

“When Ashhur and Karak warred, there were elves that sought to end their war,” she said. “Against Celestia’s orders, they joined Karak, hoping with their aid the conflict would finally end. When our goddess imprisoned the two gods, she cursed those elves. She stripped them of their beauty, their intelligence, and their long life. They weren’t evil, Harruq, but Karak offered them strength and they accepted it. The dark god drove them to war against elves and men. Finally the orcs were banished to the Vile Wedge between the rivers.”

“Do any still worship Karak?”

“Most don’t,” Aurelia said. “They’ve turned to worshipping animals now. I’ve even heard of some worshipping Celestia once more, hoping she will forgive them and remove their curse. They are a sad race, Harruq, but believe me in saying there is no shame in your blood.”

The half-orc shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Aurelia’s eyes. He watched her trace lines in the grass. Seeking a way to lighten the mood, he asked her how to spell his name.

“Harruq?” she asked. “Hrm. My best guess would be H-a-r-r-u-k.”

A soft blow of air from her lips turned the grass to dirt so that a large space lay available for her to write on. She wrote ‘Harruk’ in the dirt with her finger, spacing out each letter. Harruq stared at the words representing his name, feeling a tiny thrill.