Zara stared at the mountain—no, the skyscraper—of a woman in front of her. She wasn’t short, a perfectly average five-foot-five, but the leader of the militants still had her craning her neck to look up. The orc wasn’t as bulky as the others, yet she carried an air of authority all her own.

  She looked trained, but not quite battle-hardened, with faint lines on her forehead that suggested frowning came more easily to her than smiling. Zara also noticed that, along with the polished leather armor, the orc woman wore metal bracers that looked expensive but old enough to be considered antique.

  The woman seemed important, awe-inspiring, and at the same time quietly menacing without a single word or gesture. Zara thought about speaking up but decided that drawing attention to herself wasn’t wise. The orc woman didn’t even spare her a full glance before heading straight for the stairs, moving with the ease of someone who had been here many times before. Her entourage followed. Urz, too, tried to follow, but one of the three blocked his path at the foot of the stairs, a silent reminder that no one was to go up.

  Zara hadn’t even realized she’d sat down in the corner of the waiting room, trying to blend into the furniture, until Urz came over and dropped into one of the padded, comfier chairs nearby.

  “I hope Master Khurak will be okay. And Bor… Bor is… I’m s-sorry.”

  The young orc began to sob quietly. Zara couldn’t tell if he hadn’t noticed her or simply didn’t care, but tears were already streaming down his face.

  Orc or not, it sounded almost like a child crying. Zara wasn’t sure how to comfort him, but she could at least try to distract him.

  “Tell me about Master Khurak?”

  Urz hiccupped twice before looking at her. “He’s my teacher. He’s everyone’s teacher here.”

  “And, um… what does he teach you?” Zara was grasping at straws; she still had no idea what was going on.

  The crying youngster frowned slightly, as if weighing his answer. “He teaches me magic. He t-teaches all of us how to h-heal.” Then he started sobbing again.

  Zara suddenly felt that the soft, broken sounds of his crying didn’t match his fierce appearance. Someone with tusks shouldn’t be able to cry, she thought. The contrast was almost absurd.

  She spotted a piece of fabric on the nearby desk, hurried over to grab it, and returned to the crying orc.

  “Did you do your best?”

  “What?”

  “Did you do your best? Did you do everything you could?”

  He hiccupped again. “Yes… I think... I’m sure I did.”

  Zara approached him slowly, a little fearfully, and realized he must be even younger than she thought. Though green, his features looked youthful and his skin was smooth. This close, Zara could make out a few wisps of hair on his jaw, the beginnings of a beard. When it seemed all right, she bent down and dabbed at the corners of his eyes, then gently wiped the tears from the orc’s face.

  “Then you have nothing to be sorry for. You said he’s your teacher, that means he knows better.”

  The orc hiccupped again, but at least her poor excuse of a distraction seemed to be working. Zara had no idea what she was doing; this little toothy green lump was her only source of information, and she really, really wanted to learn something—anything—about where she was.

  “M-Master Khurak said there are lots of h-human towns up north. Which one are you from?”

  “Um… I’m from a big city next to a really big lake.”

  “A city? That must be really far away. H-how did you even get all the way out here?”

  Zara didn’t like this line of questioning at all. She’d cobbled together a few half-truths in her head, but the deeper the conversation went, the further it drifted from her flimsy story.

  “It was evening and I was going home, there was a green light and the next thing I know I’m here.” Zara lied through her teeth.

  Urz frowned again, but before he could question her further, a sound came from upstairs. The young orc shot to his feet instantly, all anticipation and nervous energy.

  Heavy footsteps thudded down the wooden steps, and the face of one of the orcs came into view, immediately followed by the second.

  Urz gave a muffled sob and promptly started crying again. Between them, the two armored orcs carried a stretcher with a body on it. Strangely, the body wasn’t covered at all. The body wore a grey and patchy robe—the same one Zara thought he wore when she had seen him. A red strip of cloth had been draped across the forehead and eyes.

  He had only one tusk.

  “Where are you taking him? What about Master Khurak? What did Zharona say?” Urz began pelting them with questions. The two orcs gently but firmly pushed him aside and continued toward the door with careful steps.

  “This poor bastard is dead. Commander Zharona instructed us to take him back to the compound for study.”

  “Study? D-don’t do that. Master K-khurak said you can’t interfere with the House of Healing.”

  The armored orc in front snorted, full of self-importance. Then he seemed to realize who he was speaking to and his features softened.

  “I’m sorry, but we have our orders. Commander Zharona will explain… probably,” he added while not meeting his gaze.

  He then threw one glance behind him at the stretcher, and with that, he opened the door and the two stepped outside. Apparently, they were planning to walk the whole way back on foot. Weird.

  The young orc walked back to the padded chair and just sat down. Not crying anymore but red-eyed and just staring out into the room, looking at nothing in particular.

  So much for cheering him up…

  She followed Urz and approached the chair beside him. She was confident this was the wrong time to try to strike up a conversation. A day ago the mere existence of orcs was laughable. Yet now she was wondering how best to approach… well… any topic.

  They didn’t seem to be as tough as you’d expect a movie orc to be. Then again, what movie shows orc children? You just see them as fully grown green mean war machines, kinda like the two that just left. The older one, Drakar was it? That’s the one I need to talk to, I think.

  The young woman really wanted to go home. She had locked herself in a mental negative feedback loop. Zara desperately needed to think about something—anything—to keep her mind off her current predicament, yet the only thoughts that came were about things she had absolutely no explanation for.

  Scary green men with tusks. The fever dream that was her previous stone body. Multiple dead bodies. The fact she didn’t know where she was or how she got here. Even scarier green men with tusks. Magic. Rituals. And a scary green woman with tusks, just to keep it fair.

  She made to sit next to him again, but one single look at his expression made her reconsider. She felt sorry for him, really. However, her own problems selfishly took priority right now.

  Zara felt a breeze on her skin coming from the single open window near the reception desk.

  I need to get out. I need to go home. I need air…

  They were near the chairs, presumably for the incoming customers or patients. Which meant the door was only a few steps away. One sweeping glance around the room to confirm no one was looking at her and she started walking, the light yellow floorboards creaking louder with every step the closer she got to the entrance.

  She grasped the metal door handle, warm from the sunlight, and looked back. Urz hadn’t even noticed she moved and was now curled up in a ball on the soft padded chair, staring at the stairs.

  The heavy wooden door swung open and she stepped outside onto the stone porch and just stood there, slowly looking around. Zara had no idea what time it was, but it was fully bright and pleasantly warm outside.

  Well, at least it’s warm… I wouldn’t want to be wearing this in a blizzard…

  She looked down at the sundress that fit perfectly on the body when looking at it from her stone prison. Now it seemed just a little bit too small. It revealed her knees, so fortunately she wasn’t flashing everyone. She had always been pretty lean, so the stomach area wasn’t too bad either… her shoulders, however, were a different problem. It felt like she was only one not-very-large movement away from snapping the back open.

  And also… it reeked of sweat and herbal essences. Possibly the orcs trying to cover up the smell without actually washing her while she was out.

  Perfect. I smell like a homeless person too.

  She was standing on the first of five large stone slabs laid out as a path between the House of Healing and the dirt road. The entire house was surrounded by a low wooden fence, sturdy but beginning to show signs of age. It had been repaired with mismatched colors of planks.

  Is that a sundial?

  Halfway between the entrance and the outer gate, there was a sixth stone slab. At first, she thought it might be part of a structure that had been demolished or simply decoration. But there was a ten-foot slab with a—Zara had no idea what the pointy bit was called—that cast a shadow on the slab below.

  Let’s see…

  She looked up at the sky and back down at the sundial.

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

  I have no idea which way north is but… it’s showing between six and seven so… it’s either six in the morning or six in the evening?

  Zara Silverhart walked barefoot on the grass. She had nothing on except for her dress. It wasn’t freshly mown, but it wasn’t overgrown either. It was beautiful. Dandelions and other garden variety yellow flowers were in bloom all around. Flowerbeds with white roses and tulips flanked the entrance, noticeably better cared for than the rest of the yard.

  Ouch!

  Then she realized that walking barefoot was probably not the best idea, so she stepped back on the stone. In the distance, she could see the houses in the valley, or maybe she was up on a hill. Curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to go towards the small hill just outside to get a better view.

  Carefully minding where she stepped as to not hurt herself again, she slowly made her way to the nearby hill. It wasn’t more than a five-minute walk. She could do it. There was no way she was going back in there again for now. It was a bright and sunny day, and she was really latching on to the distraction that exploration brought her. It wasn’t like it could get much worse.

  One step, two steps, don’t step on that nettle, four steps, go around that gravel, twenty-one steps, dodge that puddle of mud. It really brought to mind how much she took shoes, of all things, for granted.

  At the seventy-four-step mark, she was just at the foot of the hill. Walking like this was really a lot more tiring than it had any right to be. She sighed internally.

  Looking wearily at the climb, she was now in step-counting mode. To her extremely inexperienced eye, it looked like another twenty steps to the top, give or take. Luckily, on the way up she had several thin trees to grab on to for support. It wasn’t a large hill, but it was relatively steep.

  She grabbed an oily tree and almost recoiled in disgust and fell back downhill but managed to grab on to another tree just in time.

  Eww! What’s with this tree? What’s this slimy gunk? Ewwww!

  Zara wiped her hand on the bark of the tree she was holding on to, hard enough that she suspected she might have just gotten a splinter. The incredibly sticky brown sap was coating the tree. On first glance, it appeared blackened, dead, but looking closer, it was anything but. The crown was leafy and green like every other tree, but the entire trunk was a dull grey and nearly completely encased in that sticky tar-like gunk. Only the young and thin branches seemed to lack this resin coat. At least it didn’t smell bad. It smelled like pine tar, but not as acrid.

  Adding this new obstacle to her ever-expanding list of things to avoid touching or stepping on, she eventually reached the top. At least she was already smelly, fresh sweat wasn’t going to make it that much worse. Or so she hoped.

  One small victory. The hill was conquered and all was right in the world. Until her field of view finally opened up, and suddenly it wasn’t.

  The few houses she spotted out the window were just a handful. They paled in comparison to the sprawling town she saw in the valley below. Zara was not good at judging distance, but this was easily a mile wide. The orcs had said village, so she expected some kind of large camp or hamlet, but not this. This village was easily a small town. One large cluster of buildings in the center, multiple rings of increasingly less dense dwellings. The houses near the outer rings were surrounded by various fields of corn, sunflower, and other crops. If she squinted, she could even see carts moving about on the roads.

  She sat down on a lush patch of grass, overlooking the valley, dumbstruck.

  These are all orcs? Freaking orcs? Growing fields? Living in towns?!

  This was too much. She had already been pretty certain that she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Her first clue were the orcs. As an added bonus, the village was on the edge of an enormous body of water. Nothing could be seen on the horizon other than water as far as she could see. This had to be a sea or ocean, and it was green; pale green near the coastline and a deepening hue the further from land it went. And it went really far. The city and coastline were in a valley, which meant she had a relatively high vantage point.

  It was beautiful, in a horrifying sort of way. What would make a body of water this green? Algae, perhaps? If the town is on the coastline, does it mean they fish from there too? She decided to avoid fish while she’s here.

  She didn’t know where she’d get food or shelter. Hopefully, she could convince the orcs back in the House of Healing to house her, at least for now. But what would she do in the long term? How would she get back home? As far-fetched as it was sounding, she was pretty sure over half of what she knew didn’t apply here.

  Oh that’s right… I’m a maid… level one… heh...

  Why am I a maid? I could’ve really used being something—I don’t know—stronger? More useful? What am I going to do? Clean houses for a living? Bet the pay is incredible.

  While still staring out at the valley, she felt as if she was about to start tearing up. She dabbed at her eyes with her stinky dress a couple of times before thinking better of it and instead decided it was time to see what’s on the opposite side of her little hill.

  But it was no use. All she could see were trees. The city may have been even lower in the valley, but she herself was not at the top. Even whilst standing on her little hill. All she could see were trees, a picturesque, thick forest climbing ever upwards with no clue as to how far it went or what may be beyond. It felt comforting, and it felt isolating.

  Turning back towards the valley, she saw small flickers of light appearing. First one near the center, then several more along the sides of roads, and finally in some of the windows. The town was getting dotted with yellow lights. Sometime during her exploration, the sun had started to set.

  The sun was headed straight for the water’s side of the horizon, its glow mixing with the water’s green to create an eerie golden-green sunset. It was both beautiful and alien.

  It was at this time Zara remembered she needed light to walk back. Slowly and carefully making her way back down the small hill, she managed to step on something squishy and probably disgusting only once. But none of it stuck to her foot, so she didn’t bother stopping to investigate. She underlined and drew a red circle around her previous mental note to ask for shoes.

  At the foot of the hill, she saw two figures on the dirt road in full sprint towards the House of Healing, running rapidly, raising a small cloud of dust behind them as they ran. They wore leather armor but no helmets this time, probably more of that Zharona woman’s subordinates.

  Zara had never seen anyone run that fast. She’d seen faster movement, of course, but it was still inhumanly fast, especially considering they were wearing full sets of leather armor and were carrying weapons. She had no idea how much an axe weighed, but she doubted she’d be able to run like that while carrying one or even without one, for that matter.

  She was sheltered from view from the road by her little hill unless one decided to look back for some reason, but neither did. It made her feel exposed to be on the road, but walking back on the grass in this dim light would mean spending way too long looking out for pebbles. Five anxiety-inducing minutes later, she was standing at the door of the House of Healing.

  Zara Silverhart gripped the door handle, swallowed, and pushed.

  The floorboard creaked and she was met by the eyes of Urz, now standing behind the reception desk.

  “You’re back,” the young orc commented, almost as if he’d forgotten she existed.

  “I just had a look outside,” she replied, now more aware than before of how dirty she must have looked. She probably smelled to begin with, but after being outside like that, it was probably worse.

  “I…”

  “Drakar pro…” he spoke over her, then went quiet.

  “I had…”

  “He’s almo…” he cut himself off again.

  It was awkward. Zara smiled, looking embarrassed.

  “I just had a look outside. It felt wrong to intrude.”

  “I think t-they’re almost done u-upstairs.”

  Urz looked slightly better than before. His eyes were still red, but he now had a more resolute expression.

  “Can that woman help Master Khurak?”

  “I h-hope so. I don’t know that much, but she’s a m-mage too—one of the highest l-leveled ones we have.”

  “Level? What does tha—”

  But she was again cut off, this time by the sound of voices and footsteps coming down the stairs. Urz entirely forgot about her again and darted to listen and watch.

  Zara herself was mildly curious but didn’t think she could get away with being there, so instead she just sat down on one of the chairs again, intentionally picking one without any kind of padding as to not dirty it.

  The woman’s voice caught Zara off guard. Deep. Rough. Only barely a woman’s. Their conversation entered the room slightly ahead of them.

  “…tell that runt to fetch the axe. There will be repercussions for this, I guarantee it.”

  The very tired-looking Drakar nodded at Urz as he came into view. He didn’t reply but instead went straight towards the basement.

  “At once, Commander.”

  Zara didn’t know either of them, but she could swear there was just the smallest hint of sarcasm in that last word.

  “Master Khurak will be given the highest level of care as is befitting. I can assure you this much.”

  At this, the two grunts Zara saw earlier were now coming down the stairs, this time no stretcher, but they were carrying the entire bed with presumably Master Khurak in it. Zara studied him as they went by. He too was huge like the other orcs. Tall, less muscular than the other orcs she’d seen thus far, a little pot-bellied, with a long braided beard. He looked like some kind of religious figure if orcs had those.

  There was no more time for further inspection, as it seemed they wouldn’t be waiting for their leader but instead went straight out the door, with the bed and the orc in it.

  “Look…” Zharona continued. “If anything can be done, it will be. I too am honor-bound.”

  “I’ll send Urz to ask for news tomorrow.”

  “Don’t bother,” she replied—and to her horror, the woman began walking toward Zara.

  “Human!”

  “Hi! I’m Zara. Zara Silverhart.” She replied automatically, as if questioned by authorities.

  Zharona’s eyes narrowed, and the aforementioned frown wrinkles were put to use.

  “What was that explosion?”

  “What explosion?”

  “The one that put you and the two others in bed for the past couple of weeks.”

  Zara was confused. She had no idea about any explosion. Moreover, she was barely here for a day as far as she knew. She definitely was not part of any kind of explosion. This time last week, she was on the phone asking about her lost shipment of chicken drumsticks.

  “I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied defensively, palms raised by her sides.

  Zharona let out a low growl, then turned back toward Drakar.

  “Don’t let this human leave. After I see about Master Khurak, I will have questions.”

  Questions? What questions? She literally was not here for any kind of explosion.

  She tried to argue, but the words were stuck in her throat, and Zharona was already walking away.

  “Sergeant Margo!” Zharona yelled.

  An orc in slightly more faded leather armor than the ones Zara had seen before stepped in the door. He too was wearing a leather helmet, but his was different, the coif covered his entire face save for a thin T-shaped slit.

  “Yes, Commander.” The voice that replied was completely unbefitting of an orc. So far, they’d all had throaty voices, but his sounded almost human. Charismatic, even.

  “This human is not to leave the House of Healing.”

  “Yes, Commander.” He nodded and stepped back outside. A few steps later, it was as if he was never there.

  Zara opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get any words out, Urz had returned from the basement, axe in hand, and covered her mouth, slowly shaking his head at her.

  “Good,” Zharona barked as she took the axe from him and strode for the door herself.

  “Commander Zharona! Thank you for the help!” Drakar shouted after her, but she was already out the door before he could finish his sentence.

  Both orcs sighed and slumped their shoulders. Drakar in particular looked as if he’d run a marathon.

  “C-can they help Master Khurak?”

  “Hey, it’ll be okay. They have the best healers.”

  “Master Khurak is the best healer,” the young orc interjected.

  “He’ll be fine.”

  There was no hesitation in his voice, but Zara could tell that was the line of an adult reassuring a child.

  “Um, hi!”

  “Hey, Zara. I forgot about you,” Drakar said while scratching at the back of his head.

  “Can I stay here? Please? I can clean or… something.” She knew there wasn’t anything she could offer him in return.

  “Don’t worry. I said we’d help you get back. We’ll work something out in the morning.”

  Zara sighed, relieved.

  “Hey, d’you really not know anything about that explosion?”

  “I’m not lying. I really don’t know how I got here.”

  She was sort of twisting the truth, but it was mostly truth.

  Drakar frowned. “Really hope she won’t be too salty about that axe.”

  “Could I borrow some shoes?”

  “What?” Drakar shook his head in confusion at the change of topic.

  “Shoes,” Zara said, pointing at her dirty bare feet.

  “Oh. Uh, hey Urz, get her some sandals. Don’t think we have yer size.”

  “Anything will do. Thank you so much!”

  “Don’t mention it, hey.”

  “I wasn’t joking. I can clean or work. If you’ll house and feed me for a little while until I can understand what’s going on.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Just not now, please.” The orc sighed. “I still need to go and see if Veyra calmed down. I don’t know what we’ll do from now on.”

  And with that, he went up the stairs again and she was left with Urz.

  The young orc didn’t wait to be prompted.

  “You can s-sleep downstairs. Drak usually cooks, but I’ll manage. I’ll bring you the sandals too.”

  “I’m not hungry, but thank you. I won’t be any trouble.”

  She felt a wave of relief wash over her. Outside of the otherworldly kind of excitement, she’d never once been in a position to have nowhere to sleep for the night. Along with the relief, exhaustion also began to set in, even though she knew she probably hadn’t even been awake for twelve hours.

  Zara made her way back down the stairs to the now familiar room with beds. She sat down on her bed in the corner. Dead bodies had been in these beds recently. Very recently. She hoped really hard that not in her particular bed.

  A few more troubling thoughts weren’t enough to offset her sleepiness, and very soon she was out for the count. Dirty feet on the bed.

  Her mom would have flipped her lid.