Clover
We were over the ocean for a long time, but now I see the country of Uzrirgard.
It’s nothing like I expected.
From this height, I can see everything spreading out below us like a living map. It’s such an incredible sight I don’t even feel uneasy when I look at the ground.
The first thing that strikes me is the sheer amount ofgreen. Fields stretch in every direction, vast and verdant, broken up by forests so thick and dark they look almost black from up here. Rivers cut through the land like silver veins, and I can see the glint of lakes scattered across the terrain. I bet they’re freshwater lakes, filled with things I’ve only read about in books.
It’s the opposite of everything I know. Where my country is brown and dead, this place isalive. It’s thriving and so beautiful it takes my breath away. This is what it used to look like on our side of the world, before The Salting.
“Wow,” I breathe out, then feel a flicker of panic, because I’m not sure if that’s showing weakness.
“Yes, Uzrirgard is the most beautiful country you’ll ever see,” she says gently, smiling. “King Lix’tuk remembers a time when your country looked like this. Sadly, he’s the only one left who does, other than a few elder wolf shifters.”
Since she seems proud of her home and understanding of my awe, I continue staring, momentarily allowing myself to put the Reparations Penalty in the back of my head, but it lingers there, like the crack of a whip. Something I’m going to hear soon, and it won’t come from a human. It’ll come from an orc who can rip human limbs off with their bare hands. But showing strength means I can’t focus on that. I have to accept it with dignity.
As we fly closer, I start to make out more details. There are cities. Massive ones, although none rival Concord City in size. But there are so many of them that Concord City suddenly feels less impressive.
None of these buildings resemble what I saw in our capital. They’re built from dark stones looking like they were carved from the earth in some places. Metal covers large sections of the stone, riveted like the panels on the ship and etched with similar designs. They’re lit up enough for me to tell theirtechnologyrivals what I saw in Concord City. It would have to, since they have flying ships.
As we continue moving across the landscape, I see smaller settlements dotting the horizon. They look older and simpler than the cities, but the structures look better than anything in Troona. Smoke rises from some of them. I can see what could be forges based on the way the fires glow, even from this distance.
Beyond that, I see endless fields of crops stretching out in every direction. Grain that ripples like golden waves. Orchards filled with enough fruit to feed Troona for decades. Vegetable gardens laid out in patterns. I can even see some livestock in the fields, likely grazing on all the green that surrounds them.
“Not much further until we reach Zrogmul. It’s where King Lix’tuk has chosen to spend his final days,” Lady Frax’mo says.
“Oh, we’re going there right now?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“Yes, the humans got you all dressed up,” she says, gesturing to my attire. “You’ll never look more presentable for meeting a king.”
The ship dips toward the ground, then veers left, and I have to steady myself. I’m no longer impressed by the sight of Uzrirgard. I’m worried about the Reparations Penalty again. I’m about to meet King Lix’tuk.
I already felt gift-wrapped in this dress, and now I actually am. Will I be wearing it while I’m whipped, too? Will it be torn off me, or will the whip handle that part? More shudders of fear shoot through me as the ship lowers toward the ground, moving toward what looks like afortressin the distance.
“Zrogmul?” I ask nervously.
“Yes,” Lady Frax’mo replies with a smile. “This used to be a stronghold, but now it’s just a place for an old orc to spend his final days, remembering the battles he commanded from here during The Great War.”
“How long do orcs live for?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the cracking of the whip in my head.
“We normally have similar lifespans to humans, although yours have only gotten shorter and ours have gotten longer since The Great War,” she answers. “Because King Lix’tuk is from an ancient bloodline blessed by the Twelve Gods, he’s lived several lifetimes, but I guess you could say he’s reached his last one.”
We get closer to Zrogmul, and I start to notice some of the features. The stone is weathered and aged. The metal is cracked in some places, rusted in others. The symbols are faint, barely even noticeable. There are large orc standards with various designs, but they’re faded, and several are ragged.
“This place looks kind of abandoned,” I observe, then bite my tongue, hoping I didn’t just insult some historical landmark.
“Only one ghost still haunting this place,” she says casually as the ship comes to a stop on a gigantic stone landing pad. At least that’s what I assume it is. “King Lix’tuk sent his servants and staff away years ago. But he’s still our king, so we make sure he’s well taken care of.”
The pilot doesn’t say anything at all. Lady Frax’mo gets up from her seat and opens the door. The ramp lowers and she gestures for me to follow her, and I obey, doing my best to look dignified. As dignified as a girl with trembling legs can manage.
The fortress looks menacing and cold. Like some kind ofprisoninstead of a home. Is this where I’m going to live for the rest of my life? With an old orc in his final days? If he’s the only one inside, does that mean he’ll whip me personally? I shudder at the thought. But if he’s old enough for these to be hisfinaldays, maybe he’s… not so strong anymore. I’m grasping at any shred of hope now.
“You’re on your own from here,” Lady Frax’mo says, sweeping her hand toward Zrogmul.
“Wait, on my own? Does he know I’m coming?” I ask, my eyes widening with concern.
“He knows a gift is being delivered, yes. My husband informed him when we reached Uzrirgard. He doesn’t know what the gift is, but he’ll figure it out when he sees you. Just remember to be respectful, polite, and address him properly,” she reminds me.
