Fireside

It was always hardest to take the middle watch. A body had settled in and started to dream by the time he was shaken awake. Jack jostled Thraug again.

“It’s time. I put your kettle on, and the leaves are next to the bench.” Thraug made sounds of acknowledgement more than actual words as he sat up and pulled on his boots.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Now it’s time to get some sleep for me.” Jack replied with a chuckle.

Thraug wrapped a cloak around himself and grabbed a random nearby weapon as he headed to the fire. Things had been peaceful on this range patrol, so he didn’t take the time to fully dress and armor himself. Any bandits would get an eyeful if they chose to disrupt the camp in these waning hours.

Thraug had settled in and gotten the tea into the vessel before the kettle began to sing. It was useful to have the routine to focus on while one woke up. The dreams had been odd. Feelings of being lost and unable to read a map correctly. With an annoyed chuff, Thraug poured the hot water, and let the leaves steep.

At 60 degrees from his facing, an owl hooted before taking flight. Thraug assumed it took flight, anyway, because the flight would be too soft to hear. A figure stepped into the edge of the fire light, as silent as the owl’s hunt. It was a courtesy, because a Kargaroth would have slit Thraug’s throat without warning if that had been the intent.

Standing, Thraug gestured in welcome to a nearby bench. A tilt of the head exposed the neck just enough to show respect for the Elder Orc. Humans have bowing, but this tradition was less ambiguous about showing vulnerability.

Ufnar poured himself a cup, and stood next to the fire rather than sitting. The red glow of the flames normally made one look like they had stepped from the hells, but no glow was needed for that effect with a Kargaroth.

As much Thraug knew the dressing down he was about to receive wouldn’t be fun, it was nice to see his mentor again.

“How did the challenge go? You failed yours.” Thraug hesitated, caught between telling a misleading truth or being honest. Bruzog had not flinched. Technically.

“I have not given the challenge, or sworn the oath.” Thraug said as he looked into flames, unwilling to meet the gaze of the other orc.

“You announced yourself by horn or roar?”

“Yes.”

“You failed to challenge him?”

“Felix- Not -Felix was there. I was distracted by his threats to the people. I challenged him instead.”

“And you failed to hunt FelixNotFelix?” Ufnar asked as he took a drink.

“Not yet.” Thraug replied as the red Orc shook his head.

“Again, you fail. Your sent no longer carries the stink of pinkies, but your mind continues. The last oath you swore? You said that none would stike down the vampire but you. Even shoved the spirit back into him when someone else tried to kill him. You failed that task. Snaga would do better than you.” Ufnar looked down with a look of disgust. “If this task is important enough to leave the youngling, perhaps you should stop being so weak. You should not be weary yet.”

“They are among the Tribe.” Thraug protested with the beginnings of a growl in his voice.

“Those will teach them to be a thief and a pirate. Not a hunter. Not a spirit speaker. Every day you waste here, they drift from the path.” Ufnar finished the cup and set it on the bench. With a nod, he walked into the darkness, but never turned his back to the grey orc. A small sign of respect, but it was still there. Not sure if it was actually the Kargaroth, or just his memory of him, Thraug drained the cup and poured another as the jingle jangle of a familiar friend strode up to the fire and sat on the bench.

An ancestor looks like they did in life, but also one could see beyond them. They were like a stained glass window, and Kelora sat there as a shade of shifting blues, greens, and laughter.

“Hello, cousin. You are extra grumpy today?” She asked as Thraug poured her a cup and set it down next to the spirit. Kelora nodded in thanks and then pretended to forget about the cup that could not be picked up. It was an offering, and a sign of thanks, even if it wasn’t drank. “There was pull in the crystal recently. Was that you?”

“Yes-no. Poet missing the you. Wanted to show new wings to Kelora.” Thraug added more fuel to the fire without saying the words that hung in the air, unspoken.

“Im glad she has her wings! I am not to come back, though.” Thraug nodded in agreement with her statement. “These things have a time. They have a place. Mine is here, now.” Thraug nodded again before speaking.

“She wept when I told her. I will not force to be here. You are an ancestor now.”

“You can force spirits back?” Thraug nodded again before shrugging.

“Maybe? I am not knowing. Other side of portal? Yes. They came, they went, my connection controlled them. Here? I have not tried enough.”

“Ooooo. If you ever do, it will cause many problems, I think.” Thraug shrugged again.

Another figure sat across from them, on a separate bench. This ancestor was the stained glass of bright gold and mischief. Kelora made a sound like the sharp intake of breath, but spirits do not breathe. Thraug looked from Kelora to the figure as he seemed to set his floppy hat on the bench.

“Ah. Is not same. Similar peacocks, different flock.” Thraug clarified for Kelora. It seemed this night was important. One visit is significant. Three in a watch was a portent worth remembering. “Fox? This is not being your land.”

“Yet, I am here. You’re in the mess, it seems.” The rogue flashed a grin as he began to pat his pockets looking for the pipe. He took his time loading and lighting it, though it was all part of the projection that spirits gave. In spite of it being an illusion, Thraug could’ve sworn that the pipe smoke could be smelled. It was as moss on a fallen oak, mingling with the rummaged pine of the fire. “The young one is doing well, and doesn’t seem to understand who they summoned as a watching spirit. I’m happy to oblige, and adore them already.” Thraug grunted a thanks and noticed that Kelora was still staring at the figure. Thraug spoke up.

“It is not him. I cannot pull him from the Long Walk, and do not think he is among the ancestors.” She nodded in agreement and stood up. Walking away without a word, she had other things on her mind.

“I’m used to offending, but I usually know what it is that I’ve done beforehand?” The figure turned the statement into a question at the end.

“You look like her son. He was. Lost.”

“But you can’t summon him?” The dandy asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“No. He is not gone, but I am thinking maybe I should be looking. Let her have peace.”

“That poor sod. Cursed to be this beautiful.” He laughed at his own joke. “I’ll be off, then. Work to avoid and pranks to manage.” The figure drifted away in bits like incense in a gentle wind.

Thraug poured another cup, and pondered what was around the corner. It wasn’t going to be tonight, but strong events lay ahead.