Page 22 of The Orc’s Comfort

As they continue talking, something in me relaxes that I hadn’t realized was braced. Seeing them find common ground, my mother gradually recognizing Rhazgar’s knowledge and Rhazgar showing genuine interest in her teaching experiences, creates a connection I hadn’t anticipated.

My mother stands, stretching slightly. “I must admit, my back hasn’t felt this good in years.” A pause as she meets Rhazgar’s eyes directly. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter, Rhazgar of WarmHearth. I can see she’s been in good hands.”

Something profound passes across Rhazgar’s usually stoic features, a flash of emotion so intense it transforms him momentarily. Hearing his care for me acknowledged by my family clearly holds deep significance for him.

“It has been my honor,” he responds formally, bowing slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I should prepare tomorrow’s healing broth.”

After he leaves, my mother turns to me with her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline.

“Just neighbors, huh?”

“Mom,” I warn, looking at the ceiling.

“Honey, I’ve been teaching for forty years. I know when there’s more to the story.” She pats my hand gently. “And for what it’s worth, I like him. Anyone who notices my back before I've said a word about it, and then fixes it as though it’s the easiest thing in the world, has both talent and manners.”

Chapter Ten

Julia

My mother left yesterday, two days after she arrived. Whatever she came looking for, she found it, and stopped asking questions before she left. My condo feels different now. Quieter in the way that means something has shifted, not gone back to how it was.

Now that the doctor has cleared me for limited weight-bearing, I’m hobbling around my condo in a flexible brace and still relying on the crutch. Between cautious laps around the condo, I keep returning to my computer to research orc healing traditions with growing fascination.

Friendship bond, the paper calls it. A formal declaration of care between preparer and recipient.

Of course. It isn’t just soup. It’s a cultural expression of friendship, prepared with all the seriousness WarmHearth traditions seem to require. I close the laptop feeling warm and just a little foolish for searching for mysteries where there weren’t any.

Just past noon, my phone chimes with a text from him: May I bring something different today? Requires your participation.

The message, formal yet somehow intimate, sends a flutter through my chest. I quickly reply: Absolutely. I’m getting stronger every day.

His response comes immediately: Good. The next stage of healing benefits from active engagement.

I smile at his typically exact phrasing. As I’ve learned over these weeks, Rhazgar expresses care through precision, not sentiment.

When he arrives an hour later, the focus in his eyes immediately tells me that today’s preparation holds special significance. He carries a small wooden box carved with intricate symbols alongside the usual containers.

“You’re moving better,” he says, and immediately I forget how to walk like a normal person.

“Your potions are working,” I tell him, sinking into the chair he pulls out. “At my last visit, the doctor was baffled.”

His lips quirk. “Good.”

As he unpacks his ingredients on my kitchen counter, I notice his movements seem more measured than usual, almost ceremonial. Whatever he’s preparing today holds deeper cultural significance than what he’s shared with me before.

After a few moments, he seems to feel my gaze on him.

“You’re staring,” he observes, not looking up.

“I’m documenting,” I say. “Professionally.”

The corner of his mouth almost lifts. He reaches into the wooden box and goes still for a moment with his hand inside it, as if steadying himself. Then he lifts out a small bundle of silvery-green leaves, whole and unprocessed, nothing like the dried fragments I’ve watched him crush before.

The scent reaches me first, sharp and unmistakable. “Silver thistle,” I say before he can, and his shoulders go taut.

“This is the plant itself,” he says. “Not dried, not ground.”

My eyes widen. “You actually have something from your world?”