"Master Gadrin?"

Four years. Gadrin silently did the calculations in his head. One thousand four hundred and sixty days. Antu had been dying for one thousand four hundred and sixty days.

Gadrin turned from his work and smiled at Jenxa. "Yes, atal'ai?" Atal'ai. The orcs translated it as 'devoted one', but even that didn't convey all the subtle shades of meaning. 'Atal' was not just mere devotion, but unfailing, almost fanatic loyalty. The 'atal'ai' was someone who loved beyond love. Four years ago, Gadrin had told Jenxa to be a good daughter and take care of her dying mother. She had listened.

Jenxa stood silhouetted against the bright midday sky. She was pale. Her arms hung limp at her sides, unmoving. "Master Gadrin...will you please come with me?" Gadrin stared up at the girl, startled by the sound of her voice. Normally, Jenxa ran around Sen'jin village piping like a songbird. Today, her voice was as deadpan as her expression. Her face was a blank slate, her yellow eyes wide and empty.

Slowly, Gadrin rose. "What's wrong, girl?"

"I think…" Jenxa paused, her frozen expression breaking. A tear rolled down her cheek, cutting a shimmering streak through the dust coating her face. "I think that my mother is dead."

Gadrin let out a sigh. He reached out and clapped a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'll get some men to come around and pick up the body. We'll cleanse her and bury her tonight." He offered her a sympathetic smile. "Don't cry, dear. Don't cry. We knew this was coming, didn't we? Antu wouldn't be pleased to see you crying."

Another few tears spilled down Jenxa's face. Her chest hitched with suppressed sobs. She clutched his wrist. "Master Gadrin…" She paused, body heaving with quiet sobs. "Master Gadrin, I think that I killed her."

For a moment, Gadrin held his breath. He stared at the troll girl gripping his arm. The skin around her eyes was purple and puffy and her cheeks were striped with tear tracks. The skin under her jaw was mottled green and black with the beginnings of a bruise. "What do you mean, Jenxa? What happened?"

Her hand closed around his. Her hands were soft, the hands of a girl who'd never lifted anything heavy. Wiping the tears off her face, she lead him toward her hut. Jenxa and Antu lived alone on the far side of the village, their hut placed far away from all the others. Their hut was a tiny mud structure, the walls packed hard to keep the infection inside. Jenxa had lived all these years in a quarantine hut. As they approached, Gadrin covered his mouth with a cloth. If Antu was truly dead, then the infection was free to seek another host.

The hut was dark and quiet. The only light inside came from the dying fire in the brick oven. Two small cots stood in the corner of the room, one piled high with thick furs and pillow and the other nearly bare. A low stone table filled the space between the cots and the oven. Draped across the table was a thin, nearly skeletal figure, a fire poker jutting out her chest. Puddles of blood spilled onto the table, soaking into the crevasses of the rock and spilling onto the dirt floor. Gadrin stood in the doorway, clutching the hand of the troll girl. Jenxa sobbed quietly, face hidden in her arm. Her palms were stained red.

"Antu." Gadrin breathed, letting go of Jenxa's hand. The cloth covering his mouth dropped to the floor. The fire poker pinned Antu to the table, forced in so hard that no amount of pulling could budge it. Gadrin yanked and pushed, but the fire poker remained firmly lodged in the corpse's chest. He turned sharply toward Jenxa, who shied away. "Who did this?"

"I did." Jenxa responded.

Gadrin narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you. You're not strong enough. It'd take a berserker to force this thing in so far." He gestured wildly to the poker. "You expect me to believe a little girl-whelp like you did this? A little skinny-armed girl? Tell me the truth, Jenxa."

Jenxa let out a desperate cry, the tears beginning afresh. "I did it, I did it! There was a pearl and Mama was mad and she came at me with the poker and I got so scared and I don't know what happened and I grabbed it out of her hand and I killed her!" She let out a pained squeal, like a kicked dog, and dropped to her knees, crying hard into her hands. Gadrin stared at her. Her palms were indeed red, but was that solid evidence?

"Tell me the truth, girl. You couldn't have killed Antu. You couldn't have." Gadrin whispered, kneeling down next to her. Gently, he gripped her shoulders. Gadrin had seen Antu alive just the other day. The old woman could barely move, let alone lift a heavy fire poker and attack her daughter with it. And Jenxa! Jenxa was like most traditional troll girls, a lovely little peach but too soft to kill anyone. Whoever had killed Antu had shoved the fire poker clear through the old women, hard enough to lodge it in the stone table beneath her. A little flower like Jenxa could not have done that. "Is it a boy? Are you covering for a boy you like? Jenxa, listen to Gadrin, no boy is worth—"

"It's not a boy!" Jenxa screamed hoarsely, shoving his hands away from her. "If a boy killed my mother, I wouldn't let him live! I killed her! I took the fire poker and I killed her!"

Gadrin slapped her across the face. "Hush, girl! Do you want the whole village to hear? Do you know what they'll do if they hear you? They will stone you to death, girl. Do you want that? Do you?"

Jenxa whimpered, covering her face with her hands. "I deserve it."

Gadrin pulled her hands away from her face. "Listen to me, Jenxa. Stop crying, listen to me!" The troll girl stared at him, her yellow eyes awash with tears. "I don't know how this happened, whether this was an accident or a murder. I don't believe you did it, but there is nothing I can do to force you to tell the truth."

Jenxa wailed. "Why don't you believe me! I did it!"

Gadrin growled. "Don't make me slap you again, girl! If the village hears you murdered your own mother, they will kill you. They will tie you up, drag you out into the square, and stone you to death. You are a good girl, atal'ai. I know you loved your mother. You would not do such an unnatural thing."

"Master Gadrin…"

"Hush! You will listen to me. I know you are a good girl. I had hoped that one day you would be a good wife for my young brother. But that is not to be, atal'ai. You will die if you stay here. You are lucky you spoke to me first. I can save you."

"But…"

"I said, be quiet! Listen, I have lived a long time and I have seen many things. There are many people who owe me favors." He gripped her shoulders hard. "Go to Orgrimmar. Speak to the priest trainer and tell him I sent you. Learn to be a priest. You are too soft to fight, but if you work hard, you can learn to heal. Your training will take you far away from here. No one will know what happened."

"Master Gadrin, I…"

"Do not speak. You will do as I say. I will take care of the body. Go!" Jenxa scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress. For a moment, she hesitated, staring down at the old troll before her. She gazed at him, then at the body, then back at him. Finally, she turned and ran. Slowly, Gadrin rose. The hut stunk of sweat and filth and disease. He turned to look at Antu's body. Many years ago, she had been a beautiful and powerful troll warrior. The wasted thing on the table was but a shell of what she used to be, a useless husk. No one would miss her. No one would ask about her death.

Gadrin knelt next to the body. "Your girl's going to be a healer, Antu." Leaning his whole body against the fire poker, he managed to dislodge it. "It's funny, isn't it?"