CHAPTER 8

"An offer from another world"

Gal’oth, son of Holle’oth, was a proud orc of the Keth tribe. The mystery hidden behind all the secrets that magic and guardian spirits revealed to his father, the shaman of the tribe, had always attracted him. And not for weapons or brute strength, which his progenitor insisted he develop so that he could help him in his absurd revenge against Gal’oth’s only uncle, Haze’oth, the current chief of his orc tribe. Whom his father wanted to steal the title that his grandfather, the previous leader, had inherited to Haze’oth before he died.

A fact that his father could not overcome, not even five years after his uncle ascended to power, much to Gal’oth’s annoyance and embarrassment.

This was the hour when he could not understand why his father kept insisting on it when everyone could see that it had been the best decision for the tribe, yet his progenitor kept embittering and trying to ruin their lives in the process of plotting his very failed and undeserved revenge.

His uncle was a good leader, and Gor’oth, his older cousin and future leader of the tribe, had always been a good friend and mentor, despite knowing the darkness in Holle’oth’s heart. Not only was his cousin patient and had taught him to fight knowing that his heart was not in it and that he was only doing it to please his own father, but he had also taken a risk and stolen a book of magic which he did not hesitate to give to Gal’oth with excitement.

Neither of them understood a single letter or symbol of those described therein, as they could not read. But just seeing the complex symbols and drawings that were stamped there were more than enough to stimulate Gal’oth’s heart.

And now, that thin book was his secret and his most precious treasure, something he hid inside his thick battle boots, so that his father could never find it when he was forced to leave home.

Not even today, when he was sent through the portal with the other orcs of his tribe, had he dared to leave it behind. His father might find him and destroy him. Or worse, discover its mysteries and never reveal to him a single word of the dark secrets that were hidden there. And even use them to harm his uncle and his beloved cousin.

It was with great fear in his heart that he jealously guarded his treasure.

Gal’oth really wanted to learn magic. And he hoped, deep in his noble heart, that someday his father would put aside his old grudges and stop forcing him to become a mighty warrior with the intention that he would challenge his cousin to a duel to the death and steal his right to lead in the future. Instead, he would allow him to learn and inherit his position as the tribe’s shaman.

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Part of him believed that, if he succeeded in this campaign, perhaps his father would finally recognize his worth and respect him enough to begin teaching him his mystic arts.

Perhaps then, he would be worthy of having such knowledge. And he would stop being just another warrior, a bunch of muscles without enough brains between his ears, who, like the rest of the people of his tribe, except for his father, did not know how to read or write. And like other orcs, he was good with an axe and mace, thanks to countless hours of arduous training.

But he did not want to be like the rest.

He only longed to be worthy of his father’s teachings and to have his respect. But with each passing day, his hopes seemed to die with each passing hour as he tirelessly trained to become stronger, becoming the strong warrior he had never wanted to be.

Gor’oth, his cousin, concerned to see his heart wither before his eyes, had sworn to him that when they returned from this mission, he would try to seek an alliance with another tribe of orcs, one with a powerful shaman who would instruct him in the mystic arts. He had even gone so far as to swear to him that he would be the only shaman he would accept into the tribe when he became the chief.

And though his militant heart had been warmed by the sincerity of his vow, deep down, Gal’oth knew it would not be the same. Just thinking about it felt like a hollow victory.

But right now none of that mattered.

Because right now, Gal’oth, son of Holle’oth, was tired of the little female human’s lack of movement in front of him. He had even given her enough chances to defend herself and die an honorable death, something he doubted his kind would do with other species, but she just kept lying there on the ground doing nothing.

So he decided to end it all at once, and walked towards her.

****

For her part, Kalysto closed her eyes in defeat. Still, she had caught a glimpse of that green giant raising his huge arm, mace in hand, as he strode swiftly in her direction.

And it was just at that instant, when she had given up and had lost all hope, that a mysterious screen, this time violet, appeared in front of her.

The strange glow forced her to open her eyes, only to notice the strange slowness with which that orc was moving. She looked around her strangely, unable to understand what was happening. And it was then that she realized that time had stopped for an instant. And no sound reached her, nor did the pain.

What the hell is going on? She thought. Feeling completely confused at what her eyes were seeing.

In front of her, above the blue screen, was another, smaller screen. Inside it, a simple question highlighted in white-colored text, immediately caught her attention.

[Do you want to survive?]