***** Author's Note *****

Don't want to wait for more? Now Available! Read up to Chapter 77 on my discord! Link in my bio!

If you are enjoying the story, I'd love to hear what you think!

Also, if you want more YRWYS content, you can find some awesome new artwork of the characters on the discord (which sadly I cannot upload here on FF. New artwork has been recently posted in the discord for Chapter 16! I'd love for you to go check it out! Also viewable on Ao3, link in bio).

72

Shaken as Alaesia was after her brief, frightening encounter with Ar-Tashk, both she and Zathra were in agreement that it was best to stick together and not go off alone; which meant the hunt for the mystery surrounding his magic would have to wait. Dusk would be soon approaching, and human eyes weren't as well suited for wandering the dark as orc eyes were. It would be safer if they waited for dawn to head back into the forest. Though if Ar-Tashk was able to overcome the magic-induced slumber, the sooner they sought answers, the better.

For the time being, they began to work together, butchering up the remaining warg meat, cooking some, and smoking what else they could, as well as attempting to finish cleaning the hides that Zathra had started on previously. Alaesia set herself to the task of cleaning the beasts' guts and plaiting them into ropes.

Better than rabbit guts, she thought, trying to ignore the smell of bile.

There was yet another weight upon Alaesia's shoulders she struggled to shake as she worked; she could tell that Zathra knew what was going through Ar-Tashk's unconscious mind, and it didn't seem to bother him in the least. It made her nervous, but what else should she really do? She was trapped in more ways than one, both in reliance on Ar-Tashk's strength to keep her safe and alive against everything else in Mordor, and on Zathra's tricks to keep her safe from Ar-Tashk. It made her long for the days past, living in the relative familiarity of Udun. She wouldn't have necessarily called her old life safe, but it was manageable on her own...

Wasn't it? It had her thinking and she didn't like where her mind was taking her.

Maybe she was just fooling herself. Life as an outcast wasn't easy or enjoyable. That was exactly why she had picked a fight with her father in the first place, the day he had disappeared. Alaesia had grown tired of the constant struggle to simply survive; the tales her parents had told her of Gondor's splendor and richness, a veritable paradise, had made her so very bitter at her father for abandoning it. Maybe that had been the start to her recognizing the slow decline of her parents, though she sorely wished she could take back how she had treated them at the time. After years of struggling together, to simply not succumb to Mordor's harsh reality, Alaesia only now was beginning to realize how cruel a punishment exile was. It was meant to be a slow, lonely death, one that perhaps sounded better to the sensibilities of whatever authority had sentenced it: out of sight, out of mind, no blood upon their hands, simply let them disappear like dust to the wind.

If she were being honest with herself, nor was her life back then as independent as she wanted to believe. Her parents had always put her needs first, but even with their efforts, she may not have made it to adulthood, if not for that old Gondorian soldier. He had always kept an eye out for her, for years whenever she snuck out behind her parents' backs. It was only after all three of her loved ones were gone, that she had truly been faced with the actual punishment she had inherited, that dreadful, long decline. The question now seemed to be whether her captivity under the orcs had reduced or lengthened that punishment.

It made Alaesia sick to admit it, even to herself, but she had been very close to giving up after the Gondorian soldier's final goodbye. If she hadn't been captured, she very likely would have let Mordor's hungering maw consume her, if she had been brave enough.

She didn't believe Zathra's platitudes about her supposed bravery. His insistence stung, cutting deep and bringing to the surface the truth she desperately wanted to reject; even if by some miracle of that silvered tongue of his working its magic managed to convince Ar-Tashk to set her free, she had nothing to return except the withering emptiness of exile. Even if she returned to the gate, even if she pled for the soldiers to let her leave, she knew they wouldn't permit it. She was an enemy of Gondor more now than her heritage ever made her before; her scars would tell them her story, and rightfully so, they would curse her for it, like in her dream...

Alaesia had a difficult time falling asleep that night once the fire started burning low, for the worry that such dreams would haunt her again. Zathra had taken small cat naps throughout the afternoon, while Alaesia worked on their supplies. There was the unspoken concern hovering between them, that if the orc were to fall asleep entirely, it might allow Ar-Tashk to awaken. It was a risk neither was ready to take, but she could tell the lack of proper rest was wearing on him. So she did her best not to disturb him when he did rest his eyes. Initially, it surprised her, that he felt comfortable enough to even nod off in her presence, before remembering he knew, probably better than her, that she didn't intend him any harm. She wasn't quite as sure of him yet though, but eventually, she did succumb to sleep, with the orc taking watch in the later hours of the night.

Just before dawn, in the same strange, lifeless silence he had noted the previous day, not even a birdsong to greet the day, Zathra nudged his companion awake with his toe, "Up on yer feet, lass. We've got work ta do."

Alaesia roused herself, stretching the stiffness of the hard ground from her muscles, and gratefully accepted a portion of meat from the orc as he outlined his plans to her.

"We can't keep yer olog asleep ferever, so we need ta work out everythin' we can sooner than later. We'll run by the stream, then..." He trailed off, seemingly contemplating something that had him lost in thought.

"Then...?" Alaesia had to prompt him.

He looked at her with a critical eye, "Been meanin' ta ask ya something. 'Ave ya noticed anythin' about the forest? Like... something pullin' ya in?" When his inquiry got him only a confused look in return, he tried to clarify, "Something about them woods is talkin' ta me. I'm thinkin' my magic has been tryin' ta tell me where ta go, but I just wanted ta know if ya felt anything of the sort yerself?"

"I don't think s-so?" She shook her head, not that she knew for sure. Alaesia hadn't been particularly attuned to anything on their previous excursion, other than her wariness around Zathra.

He nodded with a grim sort of look, "Well, then, I hate ta say it, but I think I need ta follow where my magic wants ta guide me." Wandering aimlessly didn't exactly sound promising and he knew it, "It's gotten me this far-"

"I-It's probably best to trust it then, r-right?" Alaesia found herself interjecting. "Follow where it l-leads?"

The orc didn't try to hide the relief that crossed his face that she seemed to have concluded the same as himself, "Right. If we don't find anything by midday, we'll come back ta regroup and... maybe, iffin yer up to it, try lettin' yer olog wake up? We'll still 'ave my magic as it is now and I'll be right there ta stop him if anything goes rotten. I promise."

Alaesia nodded. Somehow, it felt easier to lean into the idea that Zathra's magic was an entity apart from himself. If his magic was the key to keeping Ar-Tashk's temper under control, and it had some inclination as to what might increase its abilities, she would be remiss to oppose it.

Finding their way back to the stream, even in the early, chilled mists of dawn, was easier this time around. Zathra had hoped that returning might offer them an opportunity. While Alaesia took the chance to wash the butchering residue off her hands, he made his way over to the leavings from the warg.

Alaesia nearly vomited herself at the sight of the orc rifling through the pile, but the orc himself seemed unbothered. He pulled a bit of mangled armor from it, shook it loose of any flesh and bone remnants, and rinsed it off in the stream. He was hoping against hope, as he unbuckled a small hidden fold in his old bracer, that perhaps, his hidden stash of lockpicks might have withstood the crushing jaws of the warg, but as it fell open, several broken metal pins and hooks clattered to the ground. Zathra couldn't help but curse under his breath; there was no luck to be had here it seemed.

The entire time that they had made their way to the stream, Zathra had once again become overcome with a desire to follow that foggy sensation in his head, but this time, he didn't have to fight it. The pull it had upon his chest was long and drawn out, perhaps even stronger than it might have been before. He lead Alaesia through the underbrush like a tracker on a scent, yet all the while realizing that that awful stench of Mokob-hai was growing stronger and stronger the deeper into the woods they went. It was getting to the point that even Alaesia's weak nose was able to detect the herbal smell in the air.

All Alaesia could do was hurry along to keep up with the orc. Despite having lost a limb, he seemed quite at ease navigating around overgrown thickets, clambering through the greenery with little effort. Brambles hardly slowed him, and more than once she nearly lost sight of Zathra entirely. He seemed to be rushing faster until Alaesia could only hear him through the trees. If it hadn't been for the clank of the metal fastenings of his armor, she would have left completely alone.

"W-Wait!" She breathlessly clutched at her burning chest with one hand and took a moment to lean against a tree as she came up behind Zathra where he had seemingly stopped in his tracks. "I... can't keep up... p-please slow down..."

The orc glanced back at her, as if he had forgotten she was there at all, "Oh... Shrakh... Sorry 'bout that... It's just... I think this is it."

The hair on the back of Zathra's neck was standing on end and the fog in his mind had clouded his very thoughts in his single-minded pursuit of the call that was beckoning him. His face was curled in a disturbed scowl that made Alaesia's own nerves grow sharp until she realized why. The whole area was covered in a horribly familiar plant. Trellised from tree limbs, creeping up walls of rock, and choked over almost every surface was endless amounts of Mokob-hai.

Zathra had stopped dead in his tracks at how powerful the odor was. It was enough to make him nearly vomit on the spot, and he was usually among the few orcs who would even consider handling Mokob-hai at all. For it to be so powerfully present that it made even him recoil, was very telling. The whole place was as foul to him as a mound of bloated corpses left in the sun might be to Alaesia.

However, as much as it disturbed him, this seemed to be exactly where he felt his magic was trying to lead him. Why here of all places? The orc wondered irritably, covering his mouth with his hand, the ghostly one having seemingly decided to make itself useful by appearing now. Worse still was the sight of uncountable thousands of the berries that the plant produced ripening on their vines; it was enough to supply a fortress with poison for... he couldn't even fathom how long!

Zathra swayed back on his heels, trying to shake the overwhelming scent that had his head swimming, before he stumbled slightly back into Alaesia. She grimaced, just barely able to brace against his weight, and helping him stay upright, "Wh-What's wrong?"

"Shrakh..." The orc mumbled, glancing back at her. "Ain't the smell gettin' ta ya?"

"No...?" She shook her head, brow furrowed in concern. The area certainly had an aromatic quality to it, one she found a bit pungent, but not enough to unduly bother her. The fact it had such an effect on Zathra, however, had her on edge. This place didn't seem like the rest of the forest either. Before them lay a particularly long narrow area that disappeared around a bend. It seemed, perhaps in a strange way, as if it was structured that way?

She stepped past Zathra, crouching down to the ground to brush the coils of Mokob-hai and the underlying sediment of detritus out of the way. Zathra watched intently, still covering his mouth and nose, though if the ghostly had was helping, he couldn't particularly tell, until she gestured to him, "Look at th-this! I think there w-was a road here!"

"A road? Ain't nothin' out this way needin' roads..." Zathra hissed in discomfort, trying to force himself closer to spot what the woman had found. Sure enough, beneath the plant life and a layer of dirt, there was the unmistakably broad flatness of great slabs of stone, but the telltale proof that it wasn't natural was the intricate pattern of seamlines between perfectly cut edges in the surface. Alaesia shifted to uncover more, while Zathra tried to clear some with his own feet.

Both were at an utter loss, but Alaesia scanned around, eyes narrowing on a particularly wide rock wall that was entirely covered in greenery. She tore the foliage away, revealing not a natural rock formation, but underneath was clean-cut stonework that had been hidden away for who knew how long!

"Strike me. Yer right! What in the blazes is this place?" Zathra uttered. He wanted so badly to help, but couldn't bring himself any closer. Instead, he glanced back the way they had come, noting a similar wall of stone draped with moss that he had completely missed in his headlong rush forward. "There's more back this way too!"

However, the moment Zathra started to step backwards, that pulling sensation in his chest returned full force. It didn't want him to move even a pace away. He couldn't bring himself to move forward, nor back... like being caught in a whirlpool, trapped in place by the conflicts between his body and mind. The hair on his neck bristled even more. If he found what his magic wanted him to, would it permit him to leave? He wanted to spit a string of curses at it, but instead met Alaesia's eyes.

"I need yer help, lass," Alaesia couldn't help but notice Zathra's voice waver, unsettled with his confusion. "I've got myself all tied up in a snare. My magic's tellin' me this is the right place, but I can't go any further. The orcsbane's just too strong."

Alaesia bit her lip nervously, "Wh-What do you need from me?"

"I don't think ye'll be in any danger as long as ya don't eat the berries or light anything on fire... An' like I said before, there shouldn't be any other big beasts in these parts," He tilted his head towards the overgrown thoroughfare, much to Alaesia's growing trepidation, "Do ya think ya could just... go a bit further on? See if ya see anything?"

Alaesia followed his line of sight, suddenly feeling very small in the strange tunnel of greenery, before murmuring, "I can t-try... What am I supposed t-to be looking for?"

"I... can't really say? Maybe something blue and glowy? Ta match my magic?" As he responded, Alaesia started making her way down the road. There were unnatural forms to either side of the opening, and as she went she paused to tear away some of the vines from one of them. Underneath was revealed a long-since broken statue, or at least what looked like the robed legs of a statue. It was difficult to say for certain, but with no mystical glow about it, she continued.

Just as she began to go around the bend, a good couple hundred yards down the path, she was met with a mound, rising above her eye line, filling a broad clearing that was ringed by tall trees... or perhaps there were other structures, but without clearing the whole area, she couldn't tell what was natural and what wasn't. The mound itself was massive, stretching deep into the undergrowth to either side, and before her on the front face, the whole thing looked like the Mokob-hai was spilling out of it like a beautiful, if not noxious, waterfall of plants.

A myriad of bugs, bees, dragonflies, even butterflies hovered around the mound as the barest hints of early morning daylight filtered in from the lush canopy. A tiny songbird startled at her approach and chirped angrily from where it was perched on a branch overhead. Dappled shadows intermingled with the mists, creating a lovely golden hue that filled the area with warmth. It was so peaceful, Alaesia couldn't help but feel as though she should treat such a place with extreme reverence, but still it seemed so welcoming at the same time.

Through the curtain of leaves cascading across the mound, there did seem to be deeper shadows. An opening perhaps? She moved cautiously forward, brushing the plants aside to get a better look.

***** Translations *****

Mokob-hai - Orcsbane (Plant)

Shrakh - Shit

Skaita - Dammit