Trillia woke in a pile of blankets and furs, Amelia curled up next to her. The last thing she remembered was listening to Amelia's calming voice and eating soup. Which had turned out pretty good, even with Trillia helping.
Normally she was full of vim and vigor this early. But the heavy conversation from last night still sat with her. She lay there curled up next to her friend.
Trillia trusted Amelia. She had pieced together that Amelia's mother was dead. That's what war meant, death. People she loved and cared about would die, Amelia might die.
Tears threatened to well up again. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fist. NO! She screamed into her head. She was done being weak and crying.
Trillia had to be strong. For Amelia, for her parents, and for Uncle Cordaos. She would be strong. Trillia may not be the standard orc, but dammit! She was going to learn how to be a useful orc regardless.
She trusted that Amelia would help her. Trillia's only fear was that she wouldn't be able to repay her friend.
Glancing over to the pile of gently snoring dark fur that was her friend. She made a vow. Trillia would get strong enough to help Amelia retake the minotaur's city and destroy whatever had taken Amelia's mother.
Trillia would have to work hard to do so. Quietly she slipped away and out of the tent -which she now recognized as her parent's tent- she didn't see her parents outside. But did see some orcs preparing meals.
Trillia sat in front of the two orcs slicing vegetables. Two young female orcs, both in their late teens. Their skins were both soft forest greens with faintly glowing white eyes. They stopped when she sat there. Most orcs in the camp knew of Trillia. They all knew of her status and her struggles. Orc culture made them all want to help her become better, become stronger.
"I'm sorry to bother you both. Can you show me what you're doing and how? I want to learn how to cook and be helpful."
Trillia said it with a confidence that surprised even herself. The two girls smiled wide. One turned and grabbed an extra knife and some more vegetables. They both walked Trillia through the process very slowly.
Two hours later, Amelia finally emerged from the tent, rubbing her eyes. The poor minotaur girl had been truly exhausted after all of the events that had transpired recently. Looking around, she found Trillia sitting near some other orcs, intently staring as they sliced meat and prepared the more delicate parts of food for the camp.
Trillia had asked to help, but they informed her she was too low of a level to do this part. Even the teen girls who had chopped vegetables weren't allowed to work on this yet, needing a much higher skill level. Apparently, preparing megapede meat required a certain amount of Cooking skill otherwise, you risked poisoning the dish.
Trillia didn't mind. She wouldn't run off to play or get sad that she was told she was at a low level. Instead, she sat there, intently staring at their work and making sure to absorb as much as she could doing so might give her cooking experience maybe it didn't.
Either way, Trillia had awoken today with a fire in her belly to learn and be better. She would be three and a half soon. It was time to start acting like it! At least those were the thoughts bouncing around the child's head as she watched.
Amelia moved over and sat next to Trillia. As Trillia glanced her way, Amelia offered a smile. Both the girls sat in silence. The two cooks preparing the meat explained what they were doing, and why they were doing it. Giving various tips for how to clean this meat, as well as other types of meat.
Orcs weren't kind to outsiders, but the minotaurs had been long-standing allies, so most orcs merely viewed them as a neighboring tribe. While they weren't kind to outsiders, they were fierce about helping their own.
Minotaurs were much the same. They were strict with their young. But a lifetime of hard living and fighting everything that crawled up from the deep parts of the world forced them to be.
After thirty minutes or so, the cooks were finally done, and food was served. Trillia and Amelia found the tent their respective parents were in. They sat down in the corner to eat, as the leadership of both factions were discussing scouting parties. Amara's confident voice cut through as a bunch of people began to speak at once.
"Enough! Primordial Spawns means that the Primordial sleeping under the Shattered Lands is waking up. We may have days, or we may have decades, without a deity, or a source of fresh divinity, we cannot seal it. We must seek out help. I know that some of you are worried about asking elves, dwarves, and the drakken for help. But we have no choice. If this Primordial is waking, so are the others."
Cordaos slammed the table with his open palm, and everyone jumped a little -save for Amara- none of them were used to the mighty minotaur losing his cool.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
"It won't matter, Amara! We could rally every damn mortal on this plane, even the dragons! You know what a Primordial beast is capable of. It took all five of us, with the [2nd Axle]'s help and we could still only seal the damn things! Stas lost both of his damned arms!"
His voice rumbled in the tent, everyone got quiet as Cordaos and Amara stared at one another. The latter could only shrug.
"What choice do we have Cord? Let the thing rampage? Not fight it? We are still pact-bonded. We are still the best choice this plane has to offer in terms of defense. Unless we can wake up some sleeping immortal deep in the earth, we don't even know if any are still here."
Cordaos shook his head. Barely able to fit in the tent as it was, his horns tapped the supports.
"You didn't see these things in action, Amara. Primordial Spawn are dangerous as is, but this trait, this [Mana-Warped] was like magic didn't affect them. Some of it even seemed to make the damn things stronger and more aggressive. Maven was a level three hundred and seven Minotaur. She was one of the greatest damn mages I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. She was in our home, our kingdom. In full armor, with a full retinue of buffs. She was killed in a single fucking attack."
Amelia stiffened at the mention of her mother's name. Trillia put a hand on her friend's arm and squeezed gently to help calm her. Cordaos' voice felt strained as if he hadn't still processed or grieved his lost love.
That made Amara pause, and fear crept into the faces of those around them. Amara sat in the chair behind her, running her hands over her face with a heavy sigh.
"What do you suggest? We can sit here and shiver in terror of the fucking things all day, but that doesn't solve the damn issue Cord. I'm sorry about Maven. She was a good woman and a damn fine mage. But if we don't find a solution, either crossing these mana rifts and getting help or doing it ourselves. It won't just be Maven. It will be all of us. Once we die the Primordial will have free reign to gather power on the surface and twist other creatures into its spawn."
"I know, Amara. I know. But we can't approach this without a plan. I swear you and Brutus will never change. I just don't want us to think we're prepared because we aren't. I genuinely think even if all five of us Pact-Bonded stood together, we'd still only maybe take three or four of these damn things. Any more than that and we might lose the fight."
Amara rubbed her eyes, mind spinning rapidly, trying to find a solution to a problem that didn't seem solvable. Leaning her head back -eyes closed- she spoke softly.
"Let's just focus on getting scouts across the rift first. Get word to Kincairne, and see if Stas or Brutus are still there. If not, we can try to get word to Kadessa across the sea. Alliyah will probably know more than us about all this. That woman has a knack for being entirely too well informed."
Cordaos nodded.
"I don't mean to sound hopeless, Amara, but with so many of our spells and magics weakened because of this severed divinity. We just aren't fighting at full strength. Maybe that's another avenue of attack to solve that debuff. If that debuff is gone, we stand a significantly better chance with all our magic working properly."
Amara stood up and looked at her husband.
"Let's invest all of our resources into getting scouts across with the letters we prepared before. Add another letter asking for ideas on how to cleanse this debuff. Cord is right. I doubt the city would have fallen if spells weren't so weak right now."
Varga said a few quick things to the others as everyone left the tent, leaving just the girls quietly sitting in the corner, finishing their breakfast, with Amara and Cordaos. Amelia spoke up, seeing the conversation was mostly at an end, the two veteran warriors staring at a map and thinking.
"Father, can you ask Grand Alchemist Mort if I might have use of his books on channeling mana and the mana training crystals? I want to help Trillia access her mana and see what type of mana she has."
Cordaos grabbed a sheet of parchment and quickly wrote something out, rolling it and sealing it with his seal. Extending his hand and the order to his daughter.
"I'm sorry I haven't had more time, Amelia. I know you're going through a lot. Thank you for helping Trillia."
Amelia and Trillia smiled. Amelia hugged her father as Trillia moved to hug Amara. Trillia spoke up.
"It's ok. We understand that you guys are responsible for all of us. We'll get stronger so that we can help as well!"
The two girls left shortly after, moving to find Mort and get the things needed to start today's lessons. Some of the conversation they didn't understand, and many of the names said were certainly unfamiliar. But both also understood that whatever threatened them was giving even their mighty parents pause.
Mort was in the outskirts where the minotaurs had begun forming homes made from stone. Amelia now led the duo through this part of the camp. Walking inside, she lightly bowed.
"Forgive the intrusion Grand Alchemist. I have a letter from my father that explains my purpose here."
Trillia watched as a minotaur standing around nine feet in height turned his head. His eyes didn't hold just a faint glow of mana but seemed to be moving orbs of the stuff, bright greens and golds swirling together. A long dark blue robe hung around his frame, a dozen pouches strapped to various parts of his body, and several books that were easily larger than Trillia hung on chains at his waist. His fur was a crimson color. When he moved, it almost seemed as if he was floating, not walking.
Moving over to take the letter from Amelia, the Grand Alchemist broke the seal and read the letter. After a moment, the letter was ash in his hands.
"Very well, I will gather what you requested, but you must utilize them here in this building so that if others have need or use of them, they are readily available."
The minotaur didn't wait for a response before turning to gather what Amelia requested. Trillia looked around the room, whispering her scan over and over again. So many new things to learn about in just this building alone.
The two girls moved over to the table the wizened old minotaur had set things on. Trillia sat on the bench next to Amelia but could barely see the table. A few bricks later and she was at just the right height. Amelia opened the first book and began reading it to Trillia, showing her how to sound out words and teaching her the minotaur's language.
Amelia let Trillia read a few paragraphs on her own. Telling the girl to read them out loud. She opened the case in front of her. Two dozen perfectly cut crystals were neatly tucked away. Similar crystals to what Trillia's parents had used previously to see what sort of mana she had. The Minotaurs had a much more expansive collection.