Even when Aru’gal was young, he was usually smaller than the other orcs of the mountain. Less muscle. Less brawn. But all the more fire in his eyes. Like all young orcs, he played war with the other children and like all of them it soon became a question who would be the leader. They fought over it, sometimes with sticks as an excuse for axes, oftentimes just with their fists. A friend of his, a young warrior that should die before he became Khan, was beaten to the brink by the kid who declared himself leader and winner. Little Aru’gal knew he could not beat him. He was already beaten enough to know that, and more than anything, the child knew even if he would beat him today, he would try again tomorrow. They would bring him to the ground, mock him the loser, and then beat up his friend once more. It hurted, but he was not going to show. Neither the other children nor his parents. “Train more!” his father always demanded.

“A boy as meek as you has to work twice as hard!” his mother complained before it was his father again who told him. “You are my son, you are meant for greatness, do not waste yourself and excuse it with your height!”

And so he tried. He trained and was beaten once again and again. It was pointless anyway. Whoever would win, would need the strength to hold onto his victory. Otherwise they would be beaten once more and harder than before.

An endless cycle that only a true leader could end, he told himself.

Most other orc children would have tried anyway, most might have been beaten too but he just went home to their cave. Drowned in a deep sadness that was cast into his own shadow. His father once again told him to grow up. To eat more, and train even harder. His mother echoed the same, just with far more disappointment in her voice.

But the future Khan had different plans. He knew some ways of the shamans, even though his father had different plans for the boy. And even though he didn’t know much about runes, the elements or the ancestors yet, he did know about salves, bandages, and poison. Even then other children with darkening hearts like his would have just tried to poison the other boy. They would have tried to give themself a victory by cheating and then they would have been caught and carry that shame for their life.

But the future Khan had different plans. For days he didn’t play with the others. Only his beaten friend followed him. They lurked at the edges of the pines for Aru’Gal knew only there he could hope for his allies.

After a week they found it. A small hole right at the edge of a tree. Inside it would be far warmer than the valley used to be and still neither would go in. For snowsnakes would rest inside. A danger many children wouldn’t know about, but a son of a shaman had seen their vile strength before. He had been told about their dangerous poison and he had seen his father heal those that were foolish enough to fall to the snakes.

Aru’gal remembered where the hole was yet still he practised patients.

They started to play with the other children again, and slowly their playgrounds would extend to the pines. Even more so as their parents told them not to go there. Too dangerous and too close to the enemy.

They should have known that those words only attracted a young orc but like their own parents before them they thought their words would ring like orders in their children's ears.

But no orc child was made for following orders, and less than anyone the future Khan.

In their time, Aru’gal watched the leading child. Sometimes there were fights again, and often it mocked the others for their losses. More than anything that child reminded them all day by day of their weakness.

One day, they finally reached the hole and like everything it peaked the children's interest. They glared inside while Aru’Gal and his friend stood back. “Don’t you think it would be funny if he falls in?..” he whispered to his friend with a wide wicked grin.

His friend nodded and roared over to the others “Hey Bur’rack!” he started to run before he shoved him in “Why don’t you take a look inside?!” The other children laughed and Bur’rack cursed a few times but laughed himself. Dirty laughter spread among them all, even Bur’rack inside the hole. Yet Aru’gal remained silent.

Then the hissing started. Then the screams. He was bitten time and time again. Young Aru’gal could not help but smile for a dark second before he got himself again and rushed in. “Get a shaman!” he yelled to the other children “Quickly!” it was hard for him yet he made his voice sound sincere. “Why?...” his friend asked.

“He will die if not!” Aru’gal screamed at the others and reached his arm inside the hole. “Give me your hand!” he screamed down to Bur’rack. Between the cries of fear and pain the young orc in the whole heard the future Khan's voice and reached for his hand.

While some of the children ran to get a shaman, others still simply stood around, unsure what to do. “Aid me you fools!” Aru’Gal screamed at them, and they listened. Soon Bur’rack was outside of the hole. His skin full of bite marks and his body twitching. He rolled over to puke and twitch while the poison took its toll on him. For a mere second Aru’Gal enjoyed his suffering but the more he saw it the more he feared for his death. His quest of saving him became honest and he looked around the other children. “Is someone getting a shaman?!” “Y..yes!” a girl answered and pointed over the hills to the north.

A little panic was born in Aru’Gal as he saw Bur’rack convulsively empty his stomach from his mouth and twitch more and more rapidly. The boy's eyes were of pure and utter pain. Something he had earned, Aru’Gal thought, yet death would be too much for a fellow Frostsong.

“A yellow flower! It grows beneath trees and has a green centre…it almost looks like an eye!” they listened intently to him while Bur’Rack starting to cry in his spasmic pain. “get me some! And quickly!” Few children started running and blood left Bur’racks mouth instead of his breakfast.

There were more orders barked by Aru’gal and once they returned with the flowers he did his best to save his victim. It wasn’t much he had learned from his father yet, but he used what he did and with the flowers pressed into the twitching boy's nose he at least stopped puking, yet his body felt cold and the spasms became less and less.

Soon after the other children arrived with Cra’Gal. His eyes widened and he started to heal the boy. Partly with salves and tinctures he carried on the leather bags of his belt, partly with prayers to the elements themselves.

After that day, all the children were told off by their parents. Most of them beaten too. For a young orc had almost died by their foolishness. All but Aru’Gal. He was praised for his bravery. Both by the adults and by the other children.

Despite his hate for Bur’Rack he made sure to meet him in his recovery. The boy could not help but thank the future Khan, for he knew that he saved his life.

After that day, there were no fights for a leader in their group anymore. There wasn’t even talk about who it was. There only was, the smallest and weakest of them, Aru’Gal who gave orders. And they all followed. Those that started to disobey were beaten by Bur’Rack after his recovery. In time other children started to have similar stories to Bur’Rack. Some saved in honesty, others with darker truths behind them. Even when the future Khan and his friends became old enough to carry weapons, he continued to get the most loyal of friends. Even though it was often times more than just using them as his servants, but real friendship, few ever came close to the closeness he should feel to the likes of Sha’Raph and Bruna.

Still, so many of them became part of his riders once he had risen to take the title of Khan. Some of them died, but others became proud followers of their mighty Khan.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

So did Bur’Rack. A rider that was proud about his position and his Khan, yet many whispered he would have never become one if not for his supposed friendship with that very Khan. To him it did not matter and as Aru’Gal’s orders echoed through the mountain he was excited. A wicked grin was born on his face and he started near his own home cave. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear him!” the fat rider screamed and knocked his obsidian axe against the wall a few times. Some families looked outside their wooden doors and somewhere a baby started to cry. “It is almost midnight..” a man Bur’Rack knew as a smith said “We worked at the mine the whole day w~” Bur’Rack shoved him against the wall and showed his teeth. His fat belly aiding his fist in pressing the smith.

“You heard your Khan didn’t you?!”

The smith nodded with a glare of anger in his face.

Bur’Rack rammed his axe into the door right next to him. “Then listen you lazy excuse for a hammer!” with the sound of wood cracking he got his axe out of the door again and simply punched the smith. “All of you! The Khan demands your presence at the mine! Get moving!”

The smith huffed a few times and was about to throw a punch himself as he heard more riders in the other caves. The sound of their obsidian boots only added to the many screams. Among them, the voice of the old Rider, Gor’Mash. “Hit the drums! Let the mountain know!” drums were hit and horns were blown. “Those of you from the villages! Do your work and take flight! The Khan demands all!”

“Yes…” Bur’Rack repeated and stared back at the smith with a wide grin “The Khan demands all!” He took his own wyvern warhorn and blew it. Like many others it echoed through the mountain before he continued.

Even though the mountain endured it first, slowly over the night all villages of the Frostsong were awoken by riders and forced to gather at the mine. No matter if they were of the Frostsong Valley, the last edge at the boiling sea, or the hollow mountain itself. All were awoken by riders, horns and screams. Those that had started to ride their wyverns had started to let them roar through the night and over the villages.

Those who tried to disobey were punched into submission. Some until tusk or cheeks were broken, others until they spilled blood into the white snow. Few would whisper that some vanished that day, others that the spark of anger was snuffed under obsidian boots. Yet once the sun was rising they were all gathered at the mine.

None of the Frostsong had ever seen them all in one place like this, and even the elders were surprised by the amount of people their clan did hold. Far far too many to have them all in the pathway down to the mine again, but behind it. Where the valley would go down more and more until it was reaching the distant pines.

Riders were gathered around the big mass of Darklings and few circled above them all. They were waiting while the cold of the night still lingered on them all, despite the rising sun. Some tried to warm each other. To warm the youngest, the elders, the sick. Many felt fury in their hearts, and some started to scream their anger despite the mighty wyverns around them. But they all stopped when Aru’Gal landed his sleek and winged beasts on one of the gigantic dolmen around the mine. He looked down at them with fury and waited. Proud in his poisonous wyverns saddle he waited. Slowly all their voices vanished and they looked up. Even the Wyverns seemed to silence themselves. Soon all eyes and ears, of both beast and Orc were on him, and once only the wind remained in the valley he added to its voice.

“The Seer..” he raised his fathers obsidian staff “Is dead!”

Whispers were the answer and hidden in the crowd without even the mountain's crown Chieftain Nar’Ruuk’s eyes widened. Many eyes formed to panic, others to disbelieve.

When he spoke again it felt like the staff was vibrating in his hands while his voice was carried even to the most distant clan members.

“I tried to do it in the old ways! I tried to make us work together! But the time of asking is over and the time for commands has come!”

A few riders grinned at his words. Others like Gor’Mash stared at him anxiously.

As Aru’Gal looked around them, he still carried the fury and loss in his eyes. Slowly his heart started to be a drum once more and he knew he could not hide his pained face. “I wish it didn’t come to this…” He continued and breathed heavily as he felt a tear. For a moment he looked down and closed his eyes. After another big breather he sat up straight and proud in his saddle once more. “But treason has befallen our clan!”

Nervous looks were shared among them.

“Not just disobedience, but cowardly, dishonourable and utter hateable, treason!”

He pointed down at the mine behind him. “The mine was only the beginning and I will not accept a loss of an~”

He stopped his speech as he saw two riders approach over the dawn of the pines.

“The watcher…” Gor’Mash uttered silently, just below Aru’Gals dolmen.

“Bruna…” Aru’Gal uttered in return.

Neither could see the riders eyes. But while the Watcher was full of disbelief as he saw the Clan gathered, Brunas was nothing but beathen. A tired husk of the Orc he had been just days ago when he regained his name. For what did it matter anymore? In front of him, loosely wrapped in leather, was his daughter's corpse. While he guided the Wyvern with one hand. The other never left her cold body. He would bring her home, no matter the cost.

Slowly they approached the Dolmen and Aru’gal guided his Wyvern down. Some in the clan attempted to go but were reminded by the other gathered riders and their roaring wyverns that it was not the time.

Once the two landed, Aru’gal was already down. Ur’bak jumped off his Wyvern and approached his Khan. He pressed his fist against against his chest as the usual greeting and asked “What is happening…” He pointed at their gathered clan.

Aru’Gal just pushed the watcher to the side and approached Bruna who went down the old Wyvern. All so carefully he then took the wrapped small body from it as well. She was big for her age, yet still far from grown. He held her in his arms before him. Her wrapped body stiffened already.

Once Aru’Gal arrived at him he held a hand on his shoulder while Bruna struggled to look anywhere. “Brother…” he said, as it dawned on him who he carried. “Is this…is this her?”

Bruna drowned a sob and nodded.

Carefully Aru’Gal moved a bit of the leather away and took a look at her face. Seeing her empty stare, none of her fire remaining, Bruna clenched his teeth and looked down again. Fighting the tears.

The Khan took another bit of leather away. His eyes widened as he saw her wound. He looked back at Bruna. “This was her axe..” he stated, but there was no reaction. “Wasn’t it?” Still Bruna could do nothing but fight his anguish. Aru’Gal tugged his shoulder which finally forced him to look back at him. “Brother…a shaman made this wound…”

Bruna nodded.

“Then tell me…did that traitor suffer?...” Bruna’s breathing became heavy and ended in huffs from his nose. He shook his head. “She lives…”.

The fury in Aru’Gal’s eyes was lit anew and he placed the leather back on the wound but not the face before he walked to the edge of the hill the dolmen was standing on. The clan still gathered below him. He pointed at Kara’s corpse behind him. “This! This is what is happening to our clan! A daughter of the mountain, slain by her own blood! By a shaman! A healer! A woman who she trusted like her mother!!”

While Aru’Gal spoke, Bruna held his dead daughter tighter.

“Kinslayers!...” For but a moment Aru’Gal had to think about his words, for he caught the twisted irony in them. “On each side! A father who forces his son's hand, and a sister who takes her brother's child of pure spite!”

Bruna wanted to correct him, but he wasn’t sure about reality anymore. There was only one fact that cursed through his mind and he held that in his very arms.

Aru’Gal’s face was wild with anger and emotions and once he talked spit flew with his words like a barking wolf. “I demand you to unity! I demand you to be ready! I command you to kneel for your Khan!”

Looks were shared at his words, not only among the clan but the riders too.

Aru’Gal raised his fathers staff and spoke again “I shall be your protector, I shall guide your path to glory once more, but to do that. To show you the warmth of summer once more, I need your loyalty! And I will not see another daughter of the mountain fall to Frostsong hands!”

Chieftain Nar’Ruuk stood as but one of many in the crowd yet still his eyes caught the Khans. For a moment of defiance he stood there, then Aru’Gal finished his speech.

“The age of our Dragon comes to an end! And the age of the Orc, shall come to pass!”

Aru’Gal stared down at Nar’Ruuk with clear and utter fury. For but a moment the Chieftain stood proud, then Aru’Gal rammed his fathers staff against the dolmen next to him two times, to let its metal sing like it did for the seer.

The wyverns all roared in response and most of the riders cheered.

Closing his eyes defeated, Chieftain Nar’Ruuk the Ire, kneeled and slowly the rest of the Clan did as well. Even the Riders that stood on the ground did such, while those on the Wyverns made a bow, some even together with their beasts.

Gor’Mash did not, for he felt nothing but fear.

Ur’Back did not, for he felt nothing but terror.

Bruna did not, for he tried to feel nothing.