aconknight

[aconknight]

Durotar's quiet was like no other, Orizhki thought. Neither night nor morning, but the starry, early moment when the sky opened wide and the wind swept the heat from the ground. When you could dig your toes into the dirt and hear the land north of Sen'jin awaken, begin to sing: the snuffling of boars, the breeze through the silverleaf, and, far away, the slow wash of ocean water across the beach.

When she had been small, her sister had taken her up onto these hills and turned her chin up to the sky. Long years and distance lay between them now, but out here now Orizhki thought she could all but feel her sister's calloused fingers on her cheek, smell her furs and leathers and peacebloom tea.

It was sobering, really. As a child, her sister had stood so tall in Orizhki's eyes that she had served as her north star. Nowadays Orizhki had to wonder what it was that made grown-ups shine like giants in children's eyes, if there was perhaps some magic that the rest had forgot to teach her. She felt lost and unequal to each task that passed between her hands, and she lay awake at night wondering if she was still a child herself underneath it all, understanding nothing.

"Mom?"

Orizhki stirred from her thoughts and looked down. Garrlok had come over to her knee, his one eye turned up to her.

He, too, slept little. A year ago he had come to Orizhki as a foundling from Brackenwall, and none from the Stonemaul clan knew who had left him in the marsh. Matron Battlewail had sent a missive to her about the boy, knowing then — as did most of the tribe, the busybodies — that Orizhki was childless.

"He cannot sleep at night and sneaks out to read, much like someone I used to know," she had written, underlining someone in a long, dark slant that ticked up towards the end. "It has been some time since you took a wife. Krog and Draz'Zilb remember your brave deeds and have asked for you by name. Come and meet the boy."

They had sent the Brackenwall flightmaster, Shardi, up with the child by wind rider, and she had lingered in Orgrimmar to speak with Orizhki and the matron. It was Shardi who had sewn Garrlok his little book, a colorful replica of a mage's tome with a quilted cover and a handful of embroidered linen pages. Garrlok had been using it as a pillow when Orizhki had first arrived at the orphanage.

"I would take him in myself, if I had the means," Shardi had said regretfully over a steaming cup of tea; she and Orizhki had walked to Miwana's Longhouse that day to talk out of earshot of the little ones. "He likes magic, Orizhki. He keeps insisting that poor Tosamina read him the same story about the ogre magi and the magic wolf night after night."

"I know that one," Orizhki had told her. "My sister told me it many a time herself."

Shardi had given her a knowing look. "Maybe it's faaaaate."

"You just want a lok'amon to sing."

"Faaaaaate, Orizhki!"

"But maybe it's not fate," Orizhki had said. "Surely Ekinka and I are too young to be mothers — too young, too stupid. Are there no ready women in the Marsh?"

"You know the plight of the Stonemaul," Shardi had said, and her earlier playfulness had faded with a shake of her head. "And with all those spiders near, well, you've seen them."

"Mm."

"Zanara swears she's seen them make a meal out of a grown orc. Garrlok would be just a snack."

Orizhki had still not forgotten those marsh spiders. She had faced demons, the dead, and dragons all in battle, yet it was those stupid darkmist spiders that woke her in the night. She wondered from time to time if Garrlok had seen them, too; if they crept into his dreams, too. It had been a year since she and Ekinka had taken the boy in, and he still struggled to sleep.

It was why she had thought to take him up on the hills just outside Razor Hill at this hour to see the stars. The two had flown out on her magic carpet, Garrlok still with his plush book, oft-mended and faded by use, but Orizhki had to hold him by the hand until they had touched down safely to the ground. Once he had clung to her leg everywhere they had gone, his face buried in the fur of her boots. Now he had already scampered up the rocks.

"I can get all the way up this rock!" he called back to her now, waving. "And this one, Hand-Mom! And this one!"

"Be careful, kiddo," Orizhki said. She sent her staff up ahead and closed the distance between Garrlok and her with a few moments of careful climbing.

"And this one!"

He was bouncing in place when she gained the topmost rock and drew level with him, more slowly now. For all the knowledge and wisdom of age, her knees had nothing on his.

"Everyone's asleep!" he told her excitedly, pointing at the roofs visible below them. "They're all beddy-bye. Like Song-Mom."

They had first taught Garrlok to tell them apart when he needed to by their clans; Ekinka with the Warsong and Orizhki herself with the Shattered Hand.

"They are indeed all in bed, Song-Mom included." Orizhki said. She knelt to rub a smudge from his cheek with her thumb. "She's been very sleepy lately. You've been very good to not wake her up to play with you while she's resting."

"She's sad sometimes," Garrlok said. He looked down at his feet, raised a chubby little hand to touch Orizhki's own. "It makes me sad too."

"I know, peanut. Sometimes grown-ups are sad," Orizhki said quietly. She moved her hand from his cheek to his chin, and gently turned his face back up again. "But it's okay to be sad. Look, all of the stars are out tonight."

"Wow ..."

She let him slip out of her hands and look up, up, up to the violet stretch of stars.-

"You know," she said, settling a bit more on the hill, "I once fell down one of these hills when I was small myself. Tore up my leggings and both my knees. Gave my sister a right scare."

"Your sister Takta?"

"Mhm."

He was still looking around. "Was she mad?"

"No. No, she was proud. Takta said that I could only fall down that far because I made it up the rock further than I had ever done before."

"Like me!"

"Yes. Like you." Orizhki smiled, though it still brought her a measure of pain. "Okay, well, maybe she was a bit mad about the leggings. But you can't let leggings stand between you and adventure, Garrlok."

"Was Song-Mom mad?"

"No, I didn't know your other mom then."

She watched him walk a few steps with his head bent back, gazing at the peaks and clouds about them.

"We're up so high, Mom," he said in wonder.

"You bet we are," she said. "This is the best place in the world."

He beamed at her, all sorrows quite forgotten. "We can see everything from up here!"

"Oh, kiddo," she said. "Yeah. You bet we can."

[aconknight]

hi hello everyone. this is a side tumblr of @yves-and-scessernee. profile pic is from Cult of the Lamb, head art is from Pathologic. I write silly video game stories here regarding my player characters.

I am not affiliated with any video game whatsoever; this is just fanfiction I do for fun.