Kael's POV
I stole the medicine at midnight.
The camp medic was drunk—most of them were after executions got announced. Made it easier to forget what we'd become. I slipped into the medical tent, grabbed bandages, healing salve, and a bottle of infection remedy, then vanished before anyone noticed.
Tom waited outside my tent, keeping watch. "This is insane," he whispered. "If they catch you—"
"I know." I stuffed the supplies under my shirt. "But she's got maybe six hours before infection kills her anyway. What's the point of hanging a corpse?"
"The point is you stay alive!" Tom grabbed my arm. "Kael, I can't lose you too. You're the only person here who's still... still human."
His words hit hard. But I pulled away. "If I let her die without trying, I'm not human anymore. I'm just another monster in uniform."
I left him there, knowing he was right and doing it anyway.
The prison tent had two guards. One was Rodrick—of course it was—and the other was an older soldier named Pike.
"Junior Officer Thornwood," I said formally. "Final interrogation before execution. Captain's orders."
It wasn't Captain's orders. It was a lie that would get me killed.
Rodrick's eyes narrowed. "At midnight?"
"The prisoner's fever is making her delirious. If we want intel before she dies, it's now or never." I kept my voice steady. "Unless you want to explain to Captain Markus why we lost valuable information?"
Rodrick wanted to argue—I could see it in his face. But the threat of Markus worked.
"Ten minutes," he growled. "And I'm listening outside. Try anything, and I'll gut you both."
"Understood."
Inside, Ashira was worse than before. Her breathing came in shallow gasps, sweat soaking through her clothes. The wound in her side had turned angry red.
She didn't open her eyes when I entered. "Come to watch me die, human?"
"Come to stop you from dying." I pulled out the medicine.
Her eyes snapped open. "What?"
"I need you to stay quiet. The guards are right outside." I moved to her side and started unwrapping her wound. It was infected badly—another day and she'd be dead.
She hissed in pain as I cleaned it. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because it's the right thing to do."
"The right thing got my family killed." But she didn't pull away.
I worked quickly, applying the salve and fresh bandages. My hands shook—partly from fear of being caught, partly from being this close to her. She smelled like blood and pine smoke and something wild I couldn't name.
"There," I said finally. "It should hold until—"
"Until they hang me at dawn?" She laughed bitterly. "You've delayed my death by hours. How noble."
"I'm working on stopping the execution."
"How? By asking nicely?" Her amber eyes burned into mine. "Your Captain wants me dead. Your entire army wants me dead. One bastard officer with stolen medicine won't change that."
She was right. I had no plan. No power. No hope.
But I couldn't let her die.
"Tell me about your village," I said instead. "The real story. Not the propaganda version."
"Why? So you can sleep better knowing the truth before I hang?"
"So I know what I'm fighting for when I try to save you."
Something shifted in her expression. She studied my face for a long moment, and I felt like she could see right through me—all my fear and doubt and desperate need to do something good in this ocean of evil.
"Sit down," she said finally. "This story isn't short."
I sat, and she began to speak.
"My village was called Silver Creek. Three hundred people—orcs, yes, but also a few half-elves who'd married in, some dwarven craftsmen who preferred our mountains. We weren't warriors. We were hunters, traders, woodworkers. My father, Grimmar, was chieftain, but that just meant he settled disputes and organized the seasonal hunts."
Her voice softened, remembering. "We traded with human merchants from your border towns for twenty years. Good trades, fair trades. Your people loved our leather work and our mountain herbs. We bought your grain and metalwork. It was... peaceful."
"What changed?" I asked quietly.
"Your Radiant Shield." The softness vanished, replaced by cold fury. "Six months ago, knights came to our mountains. Not to trade—to scout. They mapped our villages, counted our warriors, studied our routines. We thought they were just explorers. Stupid. We were so stupid."
She closed her eyes. "Then one night, my father led our warriors on the Great Hunt—a tradition. Every adult warrior goes into the deep mountains for two weeks, tracking the winter elk. We left the old, the young, the families. They'd be safe. We'd always been safe."
"But they weren't safe."
"No." Her voice cracked. "The second night we were gone, the Radiant Shield attacked. But here's the evil genius—they wore orcish armor. Armor they'd stolen from our dead scouts. They rode through Silver Creek screaming war cries in the orc language, making it look like a tribal raid from a rival clan."
My blood ran cold. "They framed other orcs?"
"Exactly. They burned homes with families still inside. Cut down anyone who ran. My mother tried to hide my baby sister in a grain cellar. They found them. Burned them alive." Her chains rattled as her fists clenched. "My ten-year-old brother, Kral, he loved carving wooden toys. Always making little wolves and bears for the other children. They killed him in his workshop. Just a little boy surrounded by wooden animals, and they killed him."
Tears ran down her face, but her voice stayed steady. Telling this story hurt her more than any wound.
"When we returned from the hunt and found the ashes..." She paused, breathing hard. "My father fell to his knees and howled. I've never heard a sound like that. Pure grief turned into noise."
"I'm so sorry," I whispered. It felt pathetically inadequate.
"We found tracks. Human horses, human swords dropped in the rush. We found pieces of the stolen armor they'd worn. We knew the truth—this wasn't rival orcs. This was humans." She met my eyes. "So we did what anyone would do. We tracked them back to your settlements. We sent a peace delegation—unarmed—to your border lords. We wanted justice, not war. We wanted you to punish the knights who'd murdered our families."
"What happened to your delegation?"
"Your Radiant Shield shot them full of arrows before they could speak. Killed all seven. Left their bodies rotting as a warning." Her laugh was broken. "Then your propaganda started. Orcs attacking human villages. Orcs killing innocents. Suddenly we were the monsters, and your whole kingdom was crying for orcish blood."
"But the human villages that were attacked—"
"Were attacked by the same Radiant Shield knights who killed my family!" She leaned forward despite her pain. "Don't you see? They dressed as orcs to destroy our village, then they dressed as orcs to attack your own people. They created both sides of the war. They gave you a reason to hate us and gave us a reason to fight back, and now both our peoples are dying for their lies!"
The tent spun around me. Everything she said made terrible sense. The timing, the methods, the convenient escalation—it was all planned.
"Why?" I asked. "Why would they do this?"
"Power." Ashira's voice was bitter. "Your kingdoms have been divided for generations, fighting each other. But give them a common enemy? Suddenly humans unite under one banner. One leader. One empire." She stared at me. "This war isn't about orcs, human. It's about your own people consolidating power. We're just the excuse."
I thought about my brother Aldric, becoming Grand Commander. About Father's pride. About the Radiant Shield's sudden importance. About Seraphina standing beside Aldric, already planning their wedding and their future in the new unified kingdom.
"Oh gods," I breathed. "You're right. It's all been planned from the start."
"Now you know the truth." Ashira slumped back, exhausted from talking. "So what will you do with it? Stay silent and live? Or speak and die like those three men they hanged?"
Before I could answer, shouting erupted outside.
"FIRE! THE MEDICAL TENT'S ON FIRE!"
Rodrick and Pike ran toward the commotion, leaving the prison tent unguarded.
This was my chance. Maybe my only chance.
"I'm getting you out of here," I said, pulling out the key I'd stolen from the medic along with the medicine.
"What?"
"You're not dying at dawn." I unlocked her chains. "You're escaping tonight."
"This is suicide! They'll execute you for this!"
"Then they execute me." I pulled her to her feet. She was weak but could walk. "But at least one person in this genocide will survive to tell the truth. You said I had to choose—speak or stay silent. I'm choosing."
"You fool," she whispered. But she let me help her toward the tent flap.
I peered outside. The guards were gone, everyone distracted by the fire. We could make it to the forest if—
"Going somewhere, brother?"
I turned.
Aldric stood in the tent entrance, blocking our escape, his sword drawn. He wasn't in uniform—he'd come here in secret.
And he wasn't alone.
Captain Markus stepped in behind him, grinning like a wolf who'd caught its prey.
"Well, well," Markus said. "Treason. Aiding the enemy. Freeing a prisoner. That's three hanging offenses." His grin widened. "Hope you enjoyed your last act of heroism, Kael. Because it's the last thing you'll ever do."
Aldric's face was cold, emotionless. "Guards! Arrest them both!"
Soldiers poured in—too many to fight. They grabbed me and Ashira, slamming us against the tent poles.
"The fire was a test," Markus explained. "We knew someone might try to free the prisoner. So we created a distraction and waited to see who'd take the bait." He patted my cheek. "You're so predictable, boy. Always trying to be the hero."
Ashira struggled against the guards. "Let him go! He's not part of this—"
"Oh, he's very much part of this." Aldric stepped closer, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes. Not anger. Satisfaction. "Do you know how long I've wanted an excuse to get rid of you, little brother? All my life, you've been a stain on our family name. The shameful secret. The bastard in the corner. Well, congratulations—you've finally made yourself useful. Your execution will be the perfect example to the troops of what happens to traitors."
"You started this war," I said, my voice shaking with rage and terror. "You killed innocent people to build your empire!"
"I saved humanity!" Aldric's mask cracked, showing the fanatic underneath. "The human kingdoms were destroying themselves with petty squabbles. I gave them purpose. Unity. Power. So yes, I sacrificed some orcish animals. A small price for human dominance."
"They're not animals—"
"They're whatever I say they are!" He grabbed my throat. "And you're a dead man who just doesn't know it yet."
Markus cleared his throat. "What about the girl, sir?"
Aldric glanced at Ashira, then smiled. "Double execution. Dawn tomorrow. Make it public. Make it painful. Let everyone see what happens to traitors and monsters."
They dragged us out together, chained side by side. The entire camp was gathering, woken by the commotion.
Tom's horrified face appeared in the crowd. I saw him start forward, saw other soldiers hold him back.
"Don't," I mouthed. "Stay alive."
As they threw us into a cage—a real cage meant for animals—Ashira looked at me.
"You're insane," she said. "You threw your life away for someone you just met."
"I threw my life away for the truth." I leaned against the cage bars, feeling strangely calm. "If we both die tomorrow, at least one person tried to do the right thing."
"One person isn't enough to change the world."
"Maybe not." I looked at Tom through the bars, at the other young soldiers who looked confused and disturbed. "But maybe it's enough to plant a seed."
Ashira followed my gaze and understood. "You think someone will question this. Someone will see what's really happening."
"I hope so."
She was quiet for a moment. Then, incredibly, she smiled. "You're still insane. But... you're brave. For a human."
"You're not so bad. For an orc."
We shared a look—two people from opposite sides who'd found an unexpected ally in each other.
Then Markus's voice boomed across the camp: "AT DAWN, WE EXECUTE TWO TRAITORS! THE BASTARD KAEL THORNWOOD AND THE ORC SAVAGE WHO CORRUPTED HIM! LET THIS BE A LESSON—BETRAYAL EARNS DEATH!"
The crowd roared approval.
Tom pushed through them, his face desperate. He reached our cage, guards letting him approach.
"Kael," he whispered urgently. "I'm getting you out. Tonight. I'll find a way—"
"No." I grabbed his hand through the bars. "They're watching you now. If you try anything, you die too."
"I don't care—"
"I do." I squeezed his hand. "Live, Tom. Survive this war. And when it's over, tell people the truth. Promise me."
Tears ran down his face. "Kael—"
"Promise me!"
"I promise," he choked out.
Guards pulled him away.
Ashira and I sat in our cage as the camp slowly settled back down. We had maybe five hours until dawn. Five hours until our execution.
"Any brilliant escape plans?" she asked dryly.
"I used my one brilliant plan to steal medicine and free you. That's my limit."
"Then we die."
"Yeah."
We sat in silence for a while. Then Ashira spoke quietly: "Thank you. For trying. For believing me. For..." She paused. "For being different."
"Thank you for not killing me when we first met."
She laughed—actually laughed. "The night's not over yet, human."
But there was no malice in it. Just dark humor in the face of death.
As the moon rose higher, I realized something: I'd only known Ashira for hours. But in that short time, she'd become the most important person in my world.
Because she represented the truth I'd been desperate to find.
And tomorrow, we'd both die for that truth.
Unless a miracle happened.
I didn't believe in miracles.
Then, in the darkness beyond our cage, something moved. A shadow that didn't belong.
Tom's voice, barely a whisper: "I'm breaking you out. Both of you. And I've got help."
More shadows appeared. Six other young soldiers from our unit—boys who'd looked disturbed during our arrest.
"We're all going to hang for this," one whispered. "But Tom's right. Something's wrong here. Something's evil. And we're not being part of it anymore."
Hope exploded in my chest.
Maybe miracles were real after all.