Kael's POV
I survived by becoming a ghost.
Two weeks. Fourteen days of killing people who didn't deserve to die. Fourteen nights of Captain Markus watching me, waiting for me to slip up so he could hang me like the others.
I stopped asking questions. Stopped thinking. Just followed orders and tried not to look at the faces.
Tom did the same. We barely spoke anymore. Words were dangerous.
Then everything changed during a routine patrol.
"Movement ahead!" Rodrick hissed, raising his sword.
Our ten-man unit froze. We were deep in orc territory, checking an abandoned camp. The forest pressed in from all sides, dark and hostile.
"Probably a deer," someone muttered.
The arrow came from nowhere.
It punched through the soldier's throat before he could scream. He dropped, gurgling, drowning in his own blood.
"AMBUSH!" Rodrick roared.
But there was no army. Just one figure that exploded from the trees like a nightmare made flesh.
An orc warrior. Female. Covered in blood and moving like lightning.
She had a spear in one hand, a knife in the other, and fury burning in her amber eyes. A warrior who'd already been fighting—wounds covered her arms and legs, but she didn't even seem to notice.
She was magnificent and terrifying.
"KILL HER!" Rodrick charged.
Big mistake.
She sidestepped his sword swing, drove her knife through his shoulder, and kicked him into a tree. He went down hard, screaming.
Two more soldiers attacked together. She spun between them, her spear a blur. Both dropped. One wouldn't get up again.
"She's just one!" someone yelled. "TAKE HER DOWN!"
But she was faster than all of us. Better trained. She'd been fighting since childhood while we'd had two weeks of training.
We didn't stand a chance.
I watched her move, and my tactical brain started working despite my fear. She favored her left leg—an old wound. Her breathing was ragged—exhaustion. She was amazing, but she was dying on her feet.
Tom rushed in. She deflected his sword easily and punched him in the face. He staggered back, nose bleeding.
"NO!" I ran forward without thinking.
Her spear swung toward my head. I dropped and rolled—pure luck, not skill. Came up behind her and saw it: a deep wound in her side, bleeding heavily.
She was dying. She just wouldn't stop fighting.
"ENOUGH!" I threw my sword down.
Everyone stared at me like I'd gone insane.
The orc warrior spun, spear aimed at my heart. But she was swaying now, vision blurring.
"We surrender," I said in Common, hoping she understood. "You win. Just... just stop."
She laughed—a harsh, bitter sound. "Humans don't surrender." She coughed blood. "You just regroup and attack from behind."
Then her legs gave out. She collapsed, still trying to raise her spear.
Before I could react, three soldiers dog-piled her, pinning her down. She fought like a wildcat, but she was too weak.
"We got her!" Rodrick clutched his shoulder, face twisted with rage. "I'm going to make this monster suffer—"
"NO." My voice came out harder than I expected. "She's captured. She's a prisoner of war now."
"She killed three of our men!"
"And she's wounded and defeated." I stepped forward, using the authority I'd somehow earned over two weeks of horror. After I'd saved our unit from an orc trap using tactics from my books, they'd made me a junior officer. I hated the promotion. But right now, it was useful. "Prisoners get questioned, not tortured. Those are the rules."
"Rules?" Rodrick spat. "She's an animal—"
"She's my prisoner." I met his glare without flinching. "Captain Markus will want intel on orc positions, troop movements, supply lines. Torture won't get that. Smart questioning will." I was making this up as I went, but it sounded good. "Take her back to camp. I'll handle the interrogation."
Rodrick looked ready to argue, but Tom stepped beside me. "Kael's right. Command wants information, not revenge."
It was the first time Tom had supported me out loud in two weeks. Something passed between us—a silent acknowledgment that we were still on the same side, even if we pretended not to be.
"Fine." Rodrick grabbed the prisoner's hair, making her hiss in pain. "But when you're done questioning, I get her."
Over my dead body, I thought. But I just nodded.
They threw her in the prison tent like garbage.
I waited an hour, letting everyone settle down, before I entered. The guards smirked as I passed.
"Have fun with the monster, sir," one said. "Make her scream a bit for the boys we lost."
I didn't answer.
Inside, the orc warrior sat against a tent pole, chained at the wrists. Blood pooled beneath her from untreated wounds. Her amber eyes tracked me with pure hatred.
"Go ahead," she said in surprisingly clear Common. "Torture me like your kind does. I won't tell you anything."
I pulled out my water skin and offered it to her.
She stared at it like I'd offered poison. "What?"
"You're wounded. You need water." I moved closer slowly, the way you approach a dangerous animal. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Liar." She spat at my feet. "All humans are liars."
"Probably true." I set the water skin within her reach. "But you're dying. If you want to die spitting defiance at me, fine. Or you can drink and maybe live long enough to escape. Your choice."
She studied me for a long moment, those fierce amber eyes searching my face for the trap. Then, slowly, she grabbed the water and drank deeply. Some ran down her chin, mixing with the blood.
"Why?" she asked finally.
"Because I've seen enough death." The words came out hollow. True, but hollow. "And I'm tired of being the one who causes it."
"Then don't join armies."
"I didn't have a choice."
"Everyone has a choice." She laughed bitterly. "You chose to invade our lands. Chose to murder our children. Chose to burn our villages while we were away hunting—"
"Wait." I held up a hand. "What did you just say?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You know what you did."
"No, I mean... your village. You were away hunting when it was attacked?"
"Of course. Your holy knights waited until our warriors left for the seasonal hunt. Then they came in the night, wearing stolen orc armor, and slaughtered everyone. My mother. My younger brother. My baby sister." Her voice cracked but her eyes stayed hard. "When we returned, there was nothing but ashes and bodies. Children burned in their beds."
My hands started shaking. "The knights wore orc armor?"
"Why are you pretending not to know?" She strained against her chains. "This was your plan! Attack us while dressed as orcs, then attack your own villages and blame us! Start a war where there wasn't one!"
"I didn't know." The words barely made it out. "Most of us didn't know."
"Then you're fools as well as monsters." She leaned back, exhausted. "Your Radiant Shield came to our territories months before any attacks on human villages. They burned our homes, stole our relics, killed our scouts. When we tried to send peace delegates to explain, your knights shot them full of arrows before they could speak." She coughed, more blood. "This war you're fighting? Your people started it. Your people are the savages. And now you'll win because you have more soldiers and less honor."
Every word she said matched what Captain Markus had drunkenly admitted. Every word confirmed the nightmare I'd been living.
"What's your name?" I asked quietly.
"Why do you care?"
"Because I'm Kael. And if I'm going to be talking to someone, I should know their name."
She studied me again, and something shifted in her expression. Not trust—she'd never trust me. But maybe... curiosity?
"Ashira," she said finally. "Ashira Ironmaw. Daughter of Chieftain Grimmar. War-leader of the Iron Peak Clans." She smiled without humor. "And soon-to-be corpse, once your Captain realizes keeping me alive is pointless."
"I won't let them kill you."
"Why?" The question was genuine. "I killed three of your men. I'd kill you too if these chains broke. Why would you protect me?"
I didn't have a good answer. Maybe because she was the first person in two weeks who'd told me the truth. Maybe because I was so tired of death that saving one life felt like redemption. Maybe because looking into her eyes, I saw the same horror and disgust I felt every time I looked in a mirror.
"Because someone has to stop being a monster," I said finally. "Might as well be me."
For the first time, Ashira looked at me like I was a person instead of an enemy.
"You'll die for protecting me," she said quietly. "Your people will call you a traitor."
"They already want me dead."
"Then we're both corpses waiting for execution." She closed her eyes. "At least I'll have company."
I left the tent as the guards changed shifts. No one questioned me. I was just the junior officer doing his job.
But I couldn't sleep.
I lay in my cot, staring at nothing, Ashira's words echoing in my mind. Your people are the monsters.
Tom's voice came from the darkness. "You talked to her."
"Yeah."
"What did she say?"
I told him everything. Every word. Every accusation. Every piece of evidence that lined up perfectly with what we'd witnessed.
When I finished, silence hung between us.
"So what do we do?" Tom finally asked.
Before I could answer, shouts erupted outside.
We scrambled out of the tent. The entire camp was gathering at the command post, where Captain Markus stood on a platform, looking pleased with himself.
"ATTENTION!" he bellowed. "Tomorrow we execute the orc prisoner! Public execution at dawn! Every soldier will attend to witness what happens to our enemies!"
My heart stopped.
"But I claimed her for questioning—" I started.
Markus's eyes found mine across the crowd. "Orders from High Command. No prisoners. She hangs at sunrise." His smile was cruel. "Unless someone objects?"
It was a trap. A test. If I objected, I'd be marked as a traitor in front of everyone.
But if I stayed silent, Ashira died.
And I'd become exactly what I hated—someone who let innocent people die to save himself.
Tom grabbed my arm. "Kael, don't. He's baiting you."
I knew. Of course I knew.
But I also knew that if I let Ashira die without fighting for her, I'd be dead inside anyway.
The question wasn't whether to act.
It was how to save her without getting us both killed.
I had twelve hours to figure it out.