Cassian's POV
"Section Nine, move out! Dawn patrol leaves in five minutes!"
I jolted awake, my heart already racing. This was it. The death trap.
Around me, other conscripts groaned and stumbled out of their bunks. None of them knew they were marching with a dead man. None of them knew Roderic had arranged this whole thing.
"Cassian?" Garrett, the veteran, frowned at me. "You're on the Section Nine list? That's weird. You just got here yesterday."
"Special assignment," I muttered, strapping on my useless leather armor.
"Special assignment to die, you mean. Section Nine is a meat grinder." He grabbed my arm. "Listen, kid. Stay in the middle of the formation. Let the veterans take the front. Don't try to be a hero. Just survive."
If only it were that simple.
Outside, twenty soldiers assembled in the pre-dawn darkness. Most were conscripts like me—young, scared, gripping weapons with shaking hands. Three veterans led the group, including a scarred woman named Captain Reyna who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.
"We're patrolling the road to Millbrook Village," Reyna announced. "Intelligence says orc raiders hit it last night. We secure the area, count casualties, and report back. Stay alert. Stay together. Don't do anything stupid."
Millbrook. My stomach twisted. Another village destroyed.
We marched out as the sun rose, turning the sky blood-red. Bad omen, my mother would have said. If she'd lived long enough to say anything.
The road was empty. Too empty. No birds singing. No wind. Just silence that made my skin crawl.
"Something's wrong," one of the veterans muttered.
"Everything's wrong," Captain Reyna replied. "Keep moving."
After an hour, we smelled it. Smoke. Thick and black, like burning meat.
Then we saw Millbrook.
The village was destroyed. Houses collapsed into ash. The well poisoned with bodies. And everywhere—EVERYWHERE—were the dead.
"Gods above," someone whispered.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. Villagers lay in the streets, cut down while running. Children clutched their mothers. An old man still held a pitchfork, as if that could have saved him.
And orcs. Dead orcs scattered among the humans, their green skin stained with blood.
"Secure the perimeter!" Captain Reyna ordered, her voice tight. "Check for survivors!"
We spread out. I moved through the destruction, stepping over bodies, my rusty sword ready for enemies that were already dead. This was war. This was what Seraphine meant when she said orcs were monsters.
Then I saw something that made me stop.
Near the burned temple, three soldiers in plain armor—no kingdom colors, no unit markings—were dragging orc bodies and arranging them in piles. One of them held a branding iron, burning symbols into dead flesh.
"What are they doing?" I whispered.
The soldier with the iron looked up and saw me. His eyes went wide. "You! What unit are you with?"
"Section Nine. We're—"
"You weren't supposed to be here yet!" He dropped the iron and reached for his sword. "Captain said no witnesses!"
My mind went blank. Witnesses? Witnesses to what?
The other soldiers turned toward me, their faces hard and guilty.
"Kid, forget what you saw," one of them growled. "Turn around and walk away, or—"
War horns exploded across the valley.
Real war horns. Orc war horns.
"AMBUSH!" Captain Reyna screamed. "BATTLE FORMATION NOW!"
The world became chaos.
Orc warriors poured out of the forest—dozens of them, massive and roaring, painted for war. The Bloodfang Clan. They weren't raiding. They were hunting.
"SHIELDS UP!" Reyna bellowed.
I didn't have a shield. I barely had armor. I raised my rusty sword as the orcs crashed into our line like a wave.
The soldier next to me went down immediately, his throat opened by an axe. Blood sprayed across my face. Hot. Sticky. Real.
"HOLD THE LINE!" someone screamed, but there was no line. Just conscripts dying and veterans trying desperately to keep us alive.
An orc warrior charged me—huge, scarred, eyes full of hate. I'd never fought anyone before. Never trained. Never—
He swung his axe at my head.
Instinct made me duck. The axe whistled over me. I stumbled forward and my rusty sword—more by luck than skill—caught him in the leg.
The orc roared in pain. I yanked the blade free and stabbed again. And again. And again. Until he stopped moving.
I'd killed him.
I'd actually killed someone.
My stomach heaved. I turned and vomited into the dirt while battle raged around me.
"CASSIAN, BEHIND YOU!"
I spun. Another orc. This one bigger. His club came down like thunder.
I rolled sideways. The club shattered the ground where I'd been standing. I slashed at him wildly, cutting his arm. He barely seemed to notice.
Then an arrow sprouted from his eye.
The orc fell. Captain Reyna was there, bow in hand. "Stay close to me, kid! Don't—"
A spear punched through her chest.
She looked down at it, surprised. Then she fell, and an orc warrior yanked his spear free, roaring victory.
No. No, no, no—
"RETREAT!" someone yelled. "FALL BACK TO THE FOREST!"
But I couldn't move. Bodies everywhere. Conscripts trying to run, getting cut down. The veterans fighting desperately. It was all falling apart.
Pain exploded in my shoulder.
I looked down. An arrow stuck out of my leather armor, buried deep. Blood poured down my chest.
"I'm hit," I said stupidly. "I'm actually hit."
The world tilted. My legs gave out. I stumbled backward into a burning building, the heat washing over me.
Through the smoke and flames, I saw my unit being destroyed. Roderic wasn't even here—he'd sent us to die and stayed safe at the fort. Just like he planned.
I was going to die in this burning building. Twenty-one years old. Still a bastard. Still nothing.
My back hit a wall. I slid down, leaving a blood trail. The arrow in my shoulder burned like fire. I couldn't breathe right. Smoke filled my lungs.
This was it. This was how it ended.
Footsteps.
Heavy. Deliberate. Coming through the smoke.
An orc. Had to be. Coming to finish me off.
I raised my sword with shaking hands. "Come on," I whispered. "Let's get it over with."
The figure emerged from the smoke.
It was an orc—but not like the others. Female. Tall. Silver braids decorated with bone charms. Amber eyes that glowed in the firelight. She carried a huge axe, still dripping with blood.
She looked at me. I looked at her.
This was my death. Staring at me with ancient, knowing eyes.
She raised her axe.
I closed my eyes.
But the killing blow never came.
Instead, she spoke—in perfect, unaccented human language:
"You're just a boy."
My eyes snapped open. "You... you can talk?"
"Of course I can talk, you idiot." She lowered her axe slightly, studying me like I was a puzzle. "Why are you here? Why do you fight us?"
"Because you—you're attacking us! You're burning villages! Killing people!"
Something flashed across her face. Anger. But also... pain?
"Look around you, human boy," she said quietly. "Look closely at the bodies outside. Look at the symbols burned into my people's flesh. Look at the soldiers in unmarked armor."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your people did this." Her voice shook with rage. "Your Holy Radiant Order slaughtered this village themselves. Killed orcs and humans both. Made it look like we did it. So they could justify killing more of us."
"That's insane—"
"IS IT?" She grabbed my shirt, yanking me close. "I found the orders, boy. I found the letters from your precious Commander Seraphine. She's orchestrating this whole war. False attacks. Fake massacres. All to steal our lands. And you—" She shoved me back. "You're all too blind to see it."
My head spun. From blood loss. From smoke. From words that couldn't possibly be true.
"You're lying—"
"Then explain those soldiers tampering with bodies. Explain why this village was already burned before we got here. Explain THIS."
She threw a blood-stained envelope at my chest.
It bore a seal I recognized. The silver star of the Holy Radiant Order.
"Read it," she commanded. "If you survive the next five minutes, read it. Then decide who the real monsters are."
The building groaned. The roof was collapsing.
"We need to go NOW," the orc woman said. She grabbed my arm—the one without an arrow—and hauled me up.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because someone needs to know the truth." She dragged me toward a hole in the wall. "And because I'm tired of watching children die for powerful people's lies."
We burst out of the building just as the roof collapsed behind us. The battle was ending. My unit—what was left of it—was retreating. The orcs were pulling back into the forest.
The orc woman shoved me toward the tree line. "There's a tunnel system under the old well. Hide there. They'll search for survivors to kill. Don't let them find you."
"Wait! Who are you?"
She looked back one last time, amber eyes fierce and sad.
"My name is Eryndra Moonshadow. And your people murdered my little brother six months ago." Her voice cracked. "He was eight years old."
Then she was gone, vanishing into the smoke.
I stood there, bleeding, clutching a letter I was afraid to read.
Around me, Millbrook burned.
And in my hand, the truth—whatever it was—waited to destroy everything I believed in.