Two weeks had passed in the blink of an eye.
And for Valkar, those weeks, surprisingly, were quiet, almost peaceful.
In fact, they were too peaceful; he didn't even encounter any living being, and for that, he was on edge more than normal.
The mountain was never peaceful.
The silence itself was a warning.
Zura always taught him that.
In their training, she sometimes informed him that she would attack him out of nowhere, and he must be ready; she never did—it was a lesson. To always be on guard.
Only when Valkar dropped his guard would she give him a beating so brutal he would remember it for a week.
And now, as he moved through a forest of petrified trees, their bark black and hard as stone, their branches reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Valkar was moving from cave to cave, eating only Sorrow-moss flowers, saving the dried meat that his sister gave him for emergencies.
He was fortunate that the mountain wasn't short on caves.
Some were small, barely enough for him to lie down in. Others were vast and deep, their floors littered with the bones of creatures he could not name.
But each one of them was empty.
Only one time did Valkar spend too much time looking for food and forget about the coming night; he searched for a cave but found none.
So he did what Zura taught him to do when no caves are near.
He dug.
He dug with the ferocity of a cornered beast, his hands and knife tearing through the hard-packed earth and stone, creating a shallow trench just large enough to lie in. He pulled the loose earth over himself, leaving only a small gap to breathe through.
That night, he learned why Zura's lesson was so important.
He heard them.
They moved like the wind, their footsteps silent, their presence a cold void that sucked all warmth from the land. He heard their whispers, soft and sibilant, like snakes slithering through dry grass. He didn't dare to take a peek; in fact, he specifically covered his eyes with dirt, focusing on nothing but the beating of his own heart and the heat of the rage within him.
He felt weak, like an ant at the mercy of a giant.
He had never felt so helpless in his life.
Those creatures were something else... In fact, calling them 'creatures' for Valkar was incorrect.
It felt like the night was 'alive' with malice.
Fortunately, he survived. From that night, Valkar never dared to miss the sunset again.
Now, as he moved through the petrified forest, his senses were on high alert. The 'peace' was driving him crazy more than if he were constantly fighting for his life.
"Need to find Mother's cave," he told himself. "Mother's cave is safe."
Zura' thrax had told him about a cave, a hidden sanctuary deep within the mountain, where she had spent many nights during her own great hunt. It was a safe place with great natural defenses. She had given him a detailed description of its location.
However, the most important thing wasn't the cave, but what was inside it.
Weapons.
A spear and an axe.
Crafted from the black bones of a terrifying beast, Zura had slain herself. She didn't say anything to Valkar about the beast, but from the bones, he could guess how big and powerful it must have been.
She crafted three weapons, and she only managed to bring one axe with her. And that axe was superior to anything the tribe could forge.
It could even cut hard stones like it was firewood.
Valkar had held that axe before; he knew its power.
And now he was determined to find those other two weapons.
Before the great hunt, the tribe provided them with basic weapons.
A bow, 20 arrows, and a primary weapon they could choose.
Valkar picked the shield, as it had more uses than a sword or a spear. He knew how to use it well; Zura had trained him to be a master of defense.
"Valkar good at taking hits," he said with pride... only to realize how stupid that sounded, even for an orc. Hell, he never landed a solid hit on his mother even once. But he still lasted longer than any other youngling, even longer than Thraxa.
"Valkar, focus."
He followed his mother's instructions, navigating the treacherous terrain with a newfound urgency. He climbed over jagged rocks, through narrow passes, and avoided patches of shimmering, colorless sand that Zura had warned him about.
...
After about two hours.
His ears caught a new sound.
It was a faint, rhythmic tapping, like stone against stone.
"!!!" Valkar froze. He ducked behind a large petrified tree, peering through the gnarled branches.
He saw nothing.
But then a faint pink smoke started to rise from behind a cluster of rocks in the distance.
A campfire?
But what kind of monster used fire?
None that he knew of. More importantly, smoke should be black, not pink. This was something else.
Curiosity warred with caution. His training screamed at him to turn back, to find another path. But the promise of answers, of an end to this unnerving silence, was too strong.
He moved closer.
The tapping grew louder. More deliberate. And it wasn't like stone against stone, as he first thought.
But a sound he knew too well.
The sound of flesh against flesh.
"Mating?" he whispered to himself, a frown forming on his face.
Who would mate here? In this cursed place?
He crept forward, shield held loosely in one hand, the other resting on the hilt of his small bone knife. As he rounded the rocks, the scene unfolded before him.
And it made no sense.
"Ugh!!" Valkar barely resisted the urge to puke.
What Valkar saw was something that his tiny orc mind couldn't comprehend. A scene that went against the very laws of nature.
There were many creatures, some he recognized, like bears, wolves, boars, goblins, trolls, and even orcs. All of them were mating with each other.
The creatures didn't just mate with their own kind or the opposite gender. The bear was with the goblin. The wolf with the orc. The troll with... with everything. They were a tangled mess of limbs and flesh, a writhing mass of bodies, all locked in a bizarre, unholy union.
He even saw two male orcs, their bodies entwined in a way that was both familiar and deeply disturbing.
This wasn't natural.
This was wrong.
"!!!" He recognized them. They were from the great hunt. They were the ones who had chosen the mountain path. They were supposed to be strong warriors, not... this.
Valkar's stomach churned. He felt a wave of disgust, followed by a surge of cold, hard anger. These were his kin. His brothers. And they had been reduced to... this.
Their bodies were covered in the same pink smoke that rose from the center, where a stone pillar stood.
Above the pillar was a palm-sized pink orb that pulsed with a soft, rhythmic light, matching the frantic, desperate movements of the creatures below.
The smoke, the light, the frantic, mindless coupling—it was all coming from that orb.
Valkar's rage began to build. It was a cold, calculated anger, not the wild, uncontrolled fury of his awakening. He wanted to destroy that orb. To free his kin from its influence. To avenge this violation of everything it meant to be an orc.
But then he froze before he could even move a muscle.
There, behind the pillar, was a creature that Valkar had never seen before.
She looked like a female, based on the curves and her overall shape.
She was a slender, tall figure with pale skin that had a faint pink hue. She was naked, or at least that's what Valkar thought at first. On a closer look, he realized her skin was tight and had a strange, rubbery texture.
As if her skin was some kind of leathery suit.
She had no hair, and her face was... too damn ugly.
Even Valkar thought he was more handsome. And he was a bloody orc!
If he had to describe the female creature, the closest thing would be a giant walking pale bat.
She had large, pointed ears that jutted out from the sides of her head, and a wide, flat nose. Her eyes were small, black beads that seemed to absorb the light around them.
But the most distinctive feature was her massive, webbed wings that were currently wrapped around her body like a cloak.
She was observing the scene with an expression of detached curiosity, her head tilted to one side.
"AHHH!"
Suddenly, a scream came from the side, and when Valkar followed the direction, he noticed a familiar orc.
Grosh.
He was lying on the ground, trapped by some kind of pink rope that pulsed with the same light as the orb.
He was trying to break free, but the rope was too strong. It tightened around him with every struggle.
Grosh was the only one who seemed 'aware' of what was happening; the rest were lost in their mindless frenzy.
"Sigh..." Valkar let out a long sigh.
He could leave. No one would know. He could continue his journey, find the cave, and survive. This was not his fight.
But...
'ORC HONOR!' A roar echoed in his mind.
Zura's words came back to him.
"A warrior does not abandon his kin."
Valkar's jaw tightened. The choice was made before he even realized it.
He looked around, scanning the area for any weakness, any advantage. His gaze settled on a pile of loose rocks to his right side.
A plan formed in his mind.
It was simple. Brute. And very, very orcish.
"Valkar must save brothers."