Is there a place?

Grak stared after the warrior as the women ushered her off. Clearly, they knew her well. Perhaps this was best.

“You wear the robes of sorcery, tov’rosh,” an elderly orc man observed in a tired, gravelly voice, pulling Grak’s attention back to his own circumstances.

It only then occurred to him that this village might not be as …. tolerant, of his eccentricities as his own. He respectfully put his fists together in front of his chest and bowed his head. “Yes, Elder. I have discovered a talent for the human magic.” And completely failed as a shaman, he did not add. Maybe it wasn’t necessary.

The old orc just nodded thoughtfully. “Have you found fulfilment in your studies?” he asked, curiosity plain in his words.

The question gave him pause. It wasn’t something he thought about. He had a talent for magic, so he attempted to be a shaman. Shamanic spells eluded him, so he studied human sorcery. He was good at it. It never occurred to him to wonder if he enjoyed it. He felt the muscles around his eyes tense as he attempted to answer. “I do not dislike it,” he said slowly. “And I do have a talent for it.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “If I had one wish, it would be to have a greater capacity to help my people,” he confessed.

The old orc’s eyes crinkled at the corners in well-worn lines. “Perhaps you just haven’t yet had the opportunity, youngster,” he said with great amusement. “I am Kagor, I teach the youngest of our shamans. I am glad you found an outlet for your unusual talents.” He held out a hand, inviting Grak to join him.

Grak ducked his head modestly and followed Kagor. “It was a great disappointment to my family when I tested so highly in magical talents, yet failed to master the most basic of shamanic spells,” he admitted quietly.

Kagor shook his head vigorously. “People are not puzzle pieces, they are puzzles unto themselves. And some are more complicated than others. It is the duty of the individual to solve their own puzzle, no matter where that solution may fall. Trying to solve another’s puzzle only leads to disappointment to all involved.”

Grak raised an eyebrow. “Interesting wisdom, Elder,” he said uncertainly.

The older orc laughed out loud. “Don’t mind my ramblings, youngster, I’m just an old teacher who is entirely too fond of puzzles. Building and solving them.” He led Grak to a low-roofed building. “But I should cease my ramble and let you wash the road dust away.” He opened the door to the warm steam room. “We have built a second entrance to the Sona. Sometimes it’s helpful, like when the women take over.”

Grak performed his ablutions in a perfunctory manner, taking far less time than he would in his home village. It was difficult not to linger, it had been so long since he’d had a civilized bath, he wanted to treasure every moment. But he was also curious about the warrior. If he was honest, he felt a little worried as well.

She seemed rather unwell during their journey, and he was certain it wasn’t the lack of alcohol.

Once clean, he walked out to the hot spring enclosure. Steam filled his nose, mouth, and lungs in a comforting cloud. He looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. Winter was almost on them. Soon the snow would start to fall.

Would they still be here when the trails became impassable?

When did he start thinking in terms of “they” and “us?”