Skirmish (Fangdarr): Leaf

Skirmish (Fangdarr): Leaf

Follow along each week for Skirmishes of characters of the Orcblood Legacy Series. These are real events that take place during the story’s timeline but are not detailed in the book.

Fangdarr growled in agony as blinding pain shot through him. For a fraction of a moment, he felt the intense relief as all negative thoughts fled from his mind. But it was soon replaced by an intense sensation.

The orc had suffered wounds before. His flesh had been cut. It had been torn and burned. But nothing like this. As Driktarr entered his skin, the pain from the laceration was relived a hundred times over as the enchanted weapon absorbed his life force, only to revitalize him with the same energy. His wound tried to close around the axe as it filled him with life, only to be cut again and starting the cycle anew.

Blind pain raced through his chest before shooting through his whole body. The immediate transition between pain and relief continuously flipped back and forth as the cut was mended and torn open repetitively.

Finally, Fangdarr grit his teeth in pained fury and ripped his axe from his chest, ending the cycle. His lips quivered as the lasting agony finally subsided and the wound stitched itself closed for good. Tracing his fingers over the new scar, the orc struggled to regain his breath. He realized it had been the first time he had ever cut himself with his beloved weapon.

As the distraction of the unexpected outcome faded, he felt the profound sadness start to creep back in. Fangdarr groaned in frustration. Is there no respite?! He looked around from where he tripped and gasped aloud as his eyes fell upon a familiar sight in the distance: Gub’s cave.

With a huff of detestment, the orc tried to rise to his feet and turn away from the dwelling. His legs had other plans, however, and Fangdarr crashed to the ground. Lips curled in anger, he cursed his body’s weakness and began crawling in the opposite direction of the cave while muttering to himself.

After pulling himself a dozen paces, Fangdarr could feel his arms grow weary. The pain in his legs was nearly unbearable despite his crawl. His sprint went well beyond his body’s limitations, causing the muscles in his legs to tear and swell. With every motion a new wave of agony surged through him.

Exhaustion pulled him to the earth where he lay face-down and panting. The sorrow he had desperately tried to avoid came back with a vengeance, reminding Fangdarr of his loneliness. Lying face-down in the dirt by himself only added to his grief. I wonder if I will die here. Would it make any difference?

A sigh passed through his lips, blowing the hot air against the ground and feeling it reflect against his neck. All hope seemed lost. If he didn’t move, something would find him soon enough. Part of him wanted to tempt that fate, just to see another creature one last time before his demise. Fangdarr rolled painfully to his back and looked up at the screen of green above. The tinge of brown had started to wither the edge of the leaves as the seasons began to change.

As if on cue, a leaf that had more brown than green floated easily down to the orc. He watched it as it swayed each way with the gentle push of the air. But no matter which way the air tried to coerce the falling leaf, it always continued its descent. Fangdarr smiled at the irony that a single leaf could trudge through its path despite the influences against it. Be like leaf, he thought to himself.

The brown, crispened petal landed on the orc’s chest. For many moments, he just stared at it as if expecting something to happen. Once he realized what he was waiting for, Fangdarr burst into laughter. “It a leaf!” he said between his outbursts. With each heave of his chest came pain, but he didn’t care.

Fangdarr sighed through his smile, knowing his foolishness. “If leaf can do it, so can I.” Determined to not be weaker than the dead fall of the petal, the orc rotated his body in the dirt and began crawling toward the cave.

Posted on: March 12, 2019Bernard Bertram