Chapter 69
Orange and Caramel
The first sensation that hit Adom as he stirred from his forced slumber was the peculiar scent that pervaded his senses; a sweet, tangy aroma of oranges, intermingled with the delicate fragrance of strawberries and the rich, inviting smell of caramelized sugar. It was an oddly comforting blend, reminiscent of a festive market he had once visited in his earlier years.
As consciousness slowly seeped back, Adom became acutely aware of the gentle yet curious touches on his face and hair. Small, delicate hands explored the texture of his skin and curls, their movements hesitant and feather-light, as if the owners of these hands were discovering something novel and intriguing. The soft sounds of children's laughter echoed in the background, playful and carefree.
Lying on a surface that felt both firm and somewhat yielding, Adom opened his eyes to a ceiling seemingly crafted from wood and iron. The interplay of materials gave off a rustic yet sturdy vibe, with beams of light peeking through gaps, casting patterns that danced across his vision. The room was warmly lit, with the light enhancing the golden-brown tones of the wood and creating a cozy, welcoming atmosphere.
As he propped himself up on one elbow, the room came into sharper focus. It was modest in size, with walls adorned with simple tapestries and shelves filled with various trinkets and books. The source of the sweet scents was a bowl of fresh fruits on a nearby table, among which oranges and strawberries were prominent, alongside a plate of what appeared to be caramelized treats.
The curious hands retreated as he moved, and Adom turned to see a pair of orc children, a boy and a girl, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes. They couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. Their hair was tousled, and their faces smudged with what looked like berry juice, giving them a mischievous, carefree appearance. They giggled, whispering to each other, their expressions a mix of awe and delight.
Adom's head felt heavy, his thoughts still tangled in the remnants of the magic-induced sleep. The room spun slightly as he sat up fully, his senses adjusting to the reality of his surroundings. He noticed the gentle warmth of the room, a stark contrast to the cool night air of the forest where he had lost consciousness.
"Where am I?" he murmured, more to himself than to the children, who now stood at a cautious distance.
"You're in the healer's home," a soothing voice answered from the doorway. Adom turned to see an orc woman, her hair a cascade of silver waves, her face lined with the gentle marks of time and wisdom, her tusks adorned with gold and silver. She held a tray with a steaming cup and a small bowl of what seemed to be medicinal herbs.
"The children found you fascinating," she continued with a smile, her eyes twinkling with a motherly warmth. "They've never seen hair or skin like yours before."
As Adom tried to stand, a wave of dizziness washed over him, prompting the woman to hurry to his side, setting the tray down and assisting him to sit back against the pillows propped up behind him. Her hands were warm and firm, her touch imbued with a healer's skill, offering support and exuding a sense of calm.
"Take it slow, immortal" she advised, her voice a melodious blend of concern and authority. "The portal's magic can be disorienting. Rest and let your body recalibrate."
The mention of the portal jogged Adom's memory, pieces of the previous events falling into place. He had been rendered unconscious to pass through the orc's concealed gateway, a necessary precaution to protect its secrecy. Now, in the safety of the healer's home, the peculiar journey through the forest seemed like a distant dream.
Adom inhaled deeply, his mind swirling with the impending complexities of forging alliances and navigating the intricacies of orcish politics. The subtle scents of fruit and sugar in the air mingled with the earthy aroma of the healer's home, anchoring him in the present. As he pieced together his strategy, the chirping voices of the children broke through his contemplations.
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The boy, with a puzzled frown knitting his brow, turned to the woman they called Nula. "Nula, why does this orc look so weird? Where are his tusks?"
Beside him, the girl's eyes sparkled with fascination as she peered at Adom. "I think he's cute! And he's not hairy like Appa!" Her comment drew a gentle laugh from the room's corners.
Nula, the silver-haired orc woman, cast a reproving glance at the children, her voice firm yet gentle. "Hush, children, Sorei, what did I tell you?" She chided, and the boy, knowing the lesson well, joined her in saying, "We do not tell people they're weird."
After a brief pause, the boy looked at Adom with apologetic eyes. "Sorry..." he murmured, to which Adom responded with a soft smile.
"It's okay, you're curious, that's quite normal," Adom reassured, his voice tinged with amusement. The natural inquisitiveness of children, he thought, was the same across worlds and species.
The girl, her excitement undampened, leaned forward eagerly. "What are you? You're not an orc, right?" Her words tumbled out in a rush, a cascade of curiosity.
Adom chuckled, the sound light and warm. "No, I am a human," he explained, his amusement growing as he observed their intrigued expressions.
"A hyuman?" the girl echoed, her pronunciation adorably incorrect.
"No, a hu-man," Adom corrected gently, articulating each syllable clearly. Her eyes widened in realization and delight.
With a triumphant bounce, the girl turned to the boy, her voice jubilant. "See? I told you he was not an orc!"
"Hmph!" the boy huffed, his arms crossed defiantly. "He looks like an orc to me. Nula, are humans all like this?"
The orc woman, Nula, shook her head with a smile. "No, they are also slightly different among themselves, just like us," she explained patiently.
The boy's curiosity seemed unquenchable as he pressed on. "Then, there are humans and things like that mouse and that blue-horned girl outside?" he asked, probably referring to Valiant and Zara.
Nula's expression softened, correcting him gently, "Not things, creatures. And yes, there are many of them, so much that even I don't know them all."
The girl looked up at Nula with wide eyes. "Not even you, Nula?" she exclaimed, her tone mingling surprise with a hint of admiration.
"Yes, Akja, not even me," Nula affirmed.
As she poured him a cup of herbal tea, Adom’s thoughts began to coalesce, his mind engaging with the nuances of his current predicament. The room filled with the quiet laughter of the children playing in the corner.
With a grateful nod, Adom accepted the steaming cup, feeling the warmth spread through his fingers, soothing the lingering tension in his muscles. The tea's aroma, earthy and invigorating, helped further clear the fog of enchantment-induced sleep from his mind.
The woman watched him for a moment. After he took a few sips, allowing the herbal concoction to work its subtle magic, she spoke again. "You should get better soon. My name is Dojka, by the way," she introduced herself, a slight smile gracing her lips. "Nula means mother in orcish; these are my children. Sorei and Akja. I am the healer of this village."
Adom, taking another gulp of the tea, felt its warmth spreading through him, not just physically but also offering a sense of mental clarity and reassurance. He met Dojka's gaze. "My name is Adom," he replied, his voice steadier than before.
"Our general said you were an immortal who could heal his daughter. Are you perhaps a healer as well?" she inquired, her voice laced with cautious optimism.
Adom set his tea cup down, meeting her gaze with a level of sincerity and understanding born from his own experiences. "No, I am a sorcerer, more versed in magical research" he clarified, "but I learned how to reproduce the cure since it will be discovered in the future."
Dojka's expression, initially marked by a flicker of seriousness, softened as she processed his words. "I see," she murmured. "If you manage to save her, you would become an honored guest of our village." She paused, her gaze distant. "This sweet child, Ajna, does not deserve such a condition..."
Adom felt a stir of empathy, a resonant chord struck within him as he thought of his own battle with shadowfade. The shared narrative of illness and the fight for a semblance of normalcy with Aroth's daughter brought a deeper, more personal dimension to his mission. His mind, ever analytical, shifted gears, pondering the political and social intricacies that lay ahead.
Aroth, not yet the Orc Lord, would be a critical ally in the dungeon raid. Adom’s thoughts raced as he considered the need for approval from the current orc lord, Sarukel, whose disdain for Atlasian humans and elves was no secret. The complexity of gaining Sarukel's sanction, coupled with the risk Aroth, the orc's best general, would face in risking his life joining a dungeon raid for a stranger's cause, presented a significant challenge.