I feel lost.
I keep staring into nothingness, yet the weight of the first real choice of my life is crushing me.
I don't know if I'll truly be able to find the courage.
"Master, arrre you all right?" Grogher asks.
The worry in his voice pulls me back to myself.
"I don't know what to do," I admit.
"You must come with me."
That's not what I want.
I can feel it.
I'm afraid—but I don't want to turn back.
"No. This time, I won't obey."
"Don't forrrce me to use strength, Masterrr."
Huh? I almost laugh.
"Come on. Do you really think you could defeat me? I'm not six years old anymore."
"But—"
"Grogher, I'm not being stubborn for no reason. Something very important is at stake. Please… let me explain."
He looks at me in surprise, as if he hadn't expected that.
I have to tell him everything. There's no other way for him to understand.
I sit beneath a tree and ask him to join me.
At first he hesitates, then he does.
I tell him everything. Every single thing. I leave nothing out.
The emotions crash into me all at once.
Passion. Sadness. Anger. Resentment. Despair.
And then—unexpectedly—peace.
I didn't even know I was capable of feeling all of this, but Grogher listens closely.
He doesn't seem to miss a single word.
"That's everything," I say at last. "So… Grog. What would you do?"
He stays silent for a while, staring at the ground, absently playing with a blade of grass.
"Do you know why I fight, Masterrr?" he finally asks.
What a strange question… why would I?
"No…" I reply, puzzled.
"Because I never had the chance to choose. I am the son of an orrrc woman and a troll. When I was borrrn—an abomination born of two races—both peoples cried out in horror. Everrryone wanted me dead. So my parrrents hid me, and they were hunted in the most cruel and terrible ways."
His eyes turn glassy.
His breathing grows uneven.
He looks crushed beneath the weight of his own memories.
He draws in a deep breath, lets it out slowly… then continues.
"One morrrning, at dawn, soldiers broke down the door of our home. My father did everrrything he could to protect us, but he was alone. I was too small. My motherrr was terrified. Alone against fifteen trrrolls… my father fought like a hero. But it wasn't enough. A troll torrre his head off with a bite. My father… died instantly. My mother and I werrre taken prisoner, and because she was an orc, we werrre sent to the orcs. There, Queen Urchoicha made her a slave. Her Majesty could not tolerrrate that she had mated with a troll, and as punishment, she condemned her to carrry a lead weight on both ankles for the rest of her life."
He looks as if he's on the verge of tears.
I don't know what to do.
Everything feels so absurd.
What fault was his, for being born of two different races? And… I don't even know how to name it, but I don't understand. What crime is there in love?
While these thoughts circle in my mind without answers, he continues.
His voice trembles.
"Everrry day. Everrry hour. I watched her drag herself across the mountain, her ankles crrrushed and bleeding. She was given the most humiliating and pointless tasks. She was even forrrced to wash the stone of the mountain after it rained."
Urchoicha.
She never disappoints.
Maybe Grogher shouldn't go on. I place a hand on his arm to stop him, but he shakes his head and continues.
I let him speak. I think he needs it.
"I had to help her. My mother. And even if I hadn't been forrrced to, I would have done it anyway. I didn't want to leave her alone. I wanted her pain to be sharrred, at least with me. The Queen couldn't stand my love for her, so one day she hurrrled a spell at me. I was lifted into the air and slammed to the grrround. Then my tongue was pulled from my mouth, as if by some unseen force, and dragged acrrross the floor of the Throne Hall. It hurt. I was bleeding. I couldn't brrreathe. My mother ran to me scrrreaming, dragging the iron weights behind her. She grabbed me and held me tight. It was difficult—the magic tried to tear me from her arrrms. It was as if an invisible force was striking her. Brrruises bloomed all over her body, but she never let go, not even for a moment. She begged the Queen."
He stops for a brief instant.
Now his voice is rougher, deeper. A flash of ferocity cuts through his gaze.
"To protect me, she was forrrced to lick the floor of the entirrre royal palace in my place. When she finished, they separated us and thrrrew me into the dungeons. 'You are a useless creature, too grrreat a distraction for your mother,' they said. The prrrison was full of rats. They were my only food. I thought I would rot there for the rest of my life. But then… one day, King Bàistec came to me and said that if I serrrved the crown, he would give my mother her freedom. A weak, brrroken orc woman was nothing but a burden. I was given a choice: if I refused, they would kill us both."
I see him shaking, seized by a deep, consuming hatred.
"I didn't carrre about dying. But I accepted. I did it for my mother—and the King kept his word. I saw her leave, all alone on a carrrt, while the orcs hurled insults at her and spat on her. She didn't carrre about them. She only wanted to see me one last time. She searrrched for me with her eyes. We caught only a brief glimpse of each other, from far away… I've never seen her again since. I don't know where she went. I don't know if she's still alive. All I know, Masterrr, is that I never had a choice. You do. So make it. Discover who you are. That is the right thing to do. I will returrrn home and say that I never found you."
He's lost his mind.
The memories have overwhelmed him.
"The Queen knows everrrything. She might even know we're talking right now! When you return, she'll have you killed!"
He looks at me.
Smiles.
Bitterly.
"What would it change? I've never trrruly lived. Dying would be a precious gift. I'm tirrred of living as an outcast."
No.
I won't accept that.
I didn't know about his past.
It's horrifying.
And even more horrifying is the thought that, if I don't make the right choice now, his story could become mine as well.
Now I know what to do.
"You're not going to die," I say instead. "You'll come with me. You're one of the most skilled soldiers I know. You'll help me train Aileen."
"They told me she's a child… She'll be terrrified of me when she sees me. The Elves won't even let me get close to her—maybe not even to them. I'll die anyway."
"That's what you think. Aileen is far stronger than you imagine. And… deep down… the elves are, too. Come on. From now on, we're companions on this journey. So enough with the formalities."
We head toward the village.
Hercules follows behind us.
-----
He's despicable.
Cruel.
A liar.
What reason did he have to treat me like that?
I hate him.
Without even realizing it, I find myself standing before Baelkers, inside the hall where he meditates.
He walks toward me, studying my face with curiosity.
"Did it go badly?" he asks.
I'm crying like a river—how else could it have gone?
"He threw me out! He treated me horribly. He even pushed me, and said awful things to me! He looked completely out of his mind!"
The Master places his hands on my shoulders. His expression turns serious.
"He was shaken. Do you truly believe that facing the truth about his past is an easy thing?"
I sigh.
"No…"
"Try to put yourself in his place. Try to understand him. He'll come back."
Really? That's wonderful!
Uh—wait. Wonderful? Not at all.
Jerk.
"I can't wait to hear his apology when he comes back!"
Baelkers smiles at me.
"While we wait, shall we study a bit of magic?" he suggests.
What an idea! That actually lifts my mood.
"Oh yes! Let's start!"
-----
Stupid, stupid Bàistec!
Why does he never listen to me?
Why?
"Open the door. Now!"
I burst into the Throne Hall and march straight up to his massive head.
For a moment, he almost doesn't recognize me. Ridiculous.
Those useless Councilors spot me, snap to attention, and bow.
"Greetings, Your Majesty!"
I don't have time for this nonsense.
"I need to speak with you. Alone. Now. It's urgent."
"Yes, yes, leave us. We'll continue later…" He turns back to me. "What happened, my dear? Has something occurred with Dorcha?"
"I can no longer see him."
"What do you mean you can't see him? And the Princess? And Grogher?"
"None of them, Bàistec! As if they've vanished. As if they were dead!"
He staggers. I grab him before he can fall.
"Oh, come on. This is hardly the time to faint like a little orc. Pull yourself together!"
With effort, he steadies himself. Finally.
"Dorcha… Dorcha isn't dead, he can't be… that's not possible… right?" he gasps.
What a foolish thought.
"Of course it's not possible, you idiotic orc! I would sense the energetic shift immediately! He's alive—just like that cursed girl and your useless, hideous servant. But for reasons I can't comprehend, I can't see them anymore, and I can't even determine where in the abyss they might be!"
"And is that… serious?"
"Of course it's serious, you spineless fool! First of all, it means that since the destruction of the Parchment, my powers are weakening. And secondly, it means I can no longer control him. Every shred of influence I had over him is gone!"
"So what do we do now?"
"Nothing. We can't even send another soldier after him—without my guidance, they'd get lost. I don't even know if Grogher has reached them. The moment they entered the Elven Realm, I lost his trace almost immediately."
I force myself to regain my composure. Then I fix my gaze straight into his eyes.
"All we can do is wait for Dorcha to complete the mission… and hope he does not come back to himself."
"If that happens… would he recover all his memories?"
"Hm. Listen. I spoke with the Queen of the Trolls. Badney told me her husband is considering training their troops, just in case. She asked whether we intend to do the same."
"Troops? Have all three of you lost your minds? What could a boy and a helpless little girl possibly do? Entire armies against them?!"
"You're as shallow as ever. Something elven flows through the Princess's veins—I can feel it. And that is dangerous! Do you truly believe Baelkers and Aeltiàfisar won't awaken her powers? Fool. If I were you, I'd ally with the trolls immediately."
"…They're not exactly known for their intelligence…"
"But they are stronger than we are, Bàistec."
Bàistec takes a few moments to think.
"So be it. I'll follow your advice and give the orders."