Maybe it was the wolf hunter's words that had convinced the Boar Druid, maybe it was the tears of a young darkling girl, or maybe her aunt's story of the north. No matter what it had been, there was no turning back now as they took their way through the pines towards the big glade of its tribe. Rika walked next to Branak as the great brown wolf carried the remains of the wyvern while the rest closely followed Kazok. He knew the forest well, well enough to be the druid he was meant to be, there was no doubt for him in that.

But he also knew that it would all be taken at a test. Not only by the tribe now but after Rikas experience with the voice this morning, him as well. Kazok had feared that he would watch them but he thought that he would feel him if he was to enter his pines. The fact that he did not, angered him more than it scared him, yet both feelings were lingering in his heart, even more so as he imagined what master Rakkan would have said. There was a time when they disagreed on the voice, when they fought day by day over it. Kazok as the young brash orc he was, as the man who saw the horrors the voice had brought to the clan, and Rakkan as the old Druid, desperately defending the old ways. The ways that had brought them so much after all. Their fights were loud, and even sometimes ended in the only ways an argument between orcs could ever end. Fists flying, boots kicking, tooth loosing. Yet somehow they still always returned to being master and student and both of them always knew it was because of Rika. She was the one to remind them of their duties, the one who told them that they had to care for the oak and the pines again, and despite their butting heads they always listened. Rakkan to his daughter, Kazok to a girl he always told himself was like a sister.

Back then the rest of her family was at the Oak as well. A mother that was with the tribe now, and a brother that was sent away by the voice to retrieve the very scroll that scared all of them so much now. When it wasn’t Rakkan he argued and fought with, it was her brother instead. Just orc boys doing their thing. Butting heads, throwing fists and barking their victory into the forest, while the other swore for his revenge. Yet Rikas brother never truly swore for revenge, nor did he truly fight back some days. There was a darkness surrounding him, a melancholy Kazok was too young to understand.

He always thought of him as a coward, yet when the wolf brother took the voice’s mission that had changed. For the first time in years of growing up together, of snorting and barking at each other, and of arguing about his sister, he respected him. Even though he did have no respect for the voice, he knew what would have happened if the wolf boy didn’t offer the aid himself. For after the old rites, it would have fallen to Kazok instead. Even though he was taken into the family of the Oak by druid Rakkan, there was no one left of his own bloodline. And the voice always chose those that were left alone. Yet when enough orcs offered themselves as striders or sometimes members of the wild hunt, the price to the pines was paid. Like it always had been, paid in both blood and honour, to make sure that summer may return and that fire and flood was kept away from tribe and pine.

The day the Voice, the Archdruid, the horned Croak, sought for striders, was the last day the three children of the Oak were allowed to be young. They had been adults for more than one cycle that day, yet it was the last time they could pretend that the old times would never die. That they could continue to argue at day, and laugh at the campfire protected by the great egg, at night.

As he gathered with the other striders that were sent away by the voice, they looked at each other as men for the first time in their short lives. For they knew the other had now taken the path that was meant for them and both were happy about it now. When usually there was hate, or at least a constant competition, now there was only respect. Kazok knew it was him who should stand there, and the wolf boy knew the young druid was needed more in the tribe. His father was old, there was no one else who had taken the path.

They held each other's wrists and nodded. No word was spoken, yet all was said. It was the last time they would ever see each other.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

In the years after that, things had changed. When once the voice was respected, more and more started to question, for the land of the druids was slowly dying. Some striders of the tribes had seen the coast at the west, and how rotten it had become. Others feared the ever growing ash that was slowly conquering the savannah. Disease and dangers had spread in the distant south of the western shore. Yet the old pacts still had to be fulfilled. Prey had to be paid with blood and once every cycle the Voice would return and demand more of the tribe. The more time had passed the more often it did not only send striders on a quest, but demanded people for its wild hunt. Orcs that were sent away to conquer the north, only to be never seen again. All the talk of honour only ever went so far, for the young that were left alone soon started to question, where that honour truly went. What it truly was those on the hunt were dying for. There was nothing they brought back to the tribes, for they never returned. There was no victory they ever heard of and it never had stopped the north from sending its riders to raid the tribes of the south.

Spite and split grew among the tribe, as well as in the family of the oak. But if anything Kazok knew how to handle such. For there was much spite growing up at the oak. Not only as the one student of Master Rakkan, but also as part of their family. The fact that the Druids bloodline took him in meant a lot to the young boar, even more when he grew old enough to understand. He started to see that it was far from the usual and he knew very well he would have had it worse if he had stayed in the tribe. Of course they still were always met by some of them, and went to the tribe on dire days. Days of importance, days of joy, or days of grief. As Rakkan’s student he always went with him, to see how he handled the people. How he acted as the main healer, and the tribe's connection to their totems and the spirits. To all the beasts of the pines, their ancestors and the forest itself. It was an honour to learn from the druid and even young Kazok knew it meant a lot that he was the only one chosen, despite everything. Over the years he became more than a student to master Rakkan, even though it would take until his death when he spoke it out loud, he was the third child of the oak. Maybe not by blood, but most certainly in spirit.

When Rakkan died by age and illness, a plague that slowly was befalling all the glades of the south, he whispered his last rasping words in the oldest tongue. “Krag’lugan ach’reighko”. My family is yours, my duties fulfilled.

Kazok knew what it meant. For the only ones left, where the old wolf mother, and her daughter. It had been two years since the brother was sent away with the striders, and since then the tribe's connection to it had changed so much that they weren’t sure if his quest should ever be succeeded. Too much darkness had surrounded the Voice and its ever growing requests of blood, not only for the land and its prey, but itself. In his last year, even his master started to show doubts, doubts that seemed as if they would age him quicker. Rakkan had aged like others would in the course of ten, maybe even twenty years, in but his last.

There was simply no other option left for the old druid than to prepare for his death, and so, despite their arguing, despite the fact that he had a son in the far distance that might return one day, he appointed Kazok to protect those that were left. The tribe, the pines and most of all, the amber bloodline of the great oak. It was a lot, but the boar knew he was prepared for it all his whole life and he would not be a disappointment to the dead.

He snorted deep in those thoughts. “All well?..” Mara asked him and ripped him out of his memories. She had started to walk next to him. Rika on the other side just shared a short look with him before he turned to the young shaman. “Just thoughts…” Another short snort escaped him before he continued “The tribe won’t be easy on you..” “on all of us..” Rika added while scarred but not so little Kara just walked behind them looking from one to the other as the adults talked.

Kazok nodded at Rikas words “Ha! Yeah..all of us..” Mara raised a brow “Won’t they respect your word as their druid?..”

Rika couldn’t help herself but form a grin at that before she looked away while Kazok answered with a grunt “Bah! Barkheads! The lot of ‘em!”

Slowly Mara started to doubt their chance of success, “Is there any hope they will even listen to us?”

Kazok waved his hand and shook his head “They are good orcs..great hunters..”

Rika nodded to that as he spoke “They will listen.” He sighed “Maybe I have to punch the words into them..but they will listen.”

She almost felt hope until his last words but stopped talking while they continued their long walk through the pines.

Soon the forest's eyes were upon them. A crow that flew by and the silhouette of an orc, leaning on its spear while the crow landed on its arm.