Rise of the Warrior of Everfen

Chapter 50: Mist and Smoke

"Am I dead?" Erinne asked softly as she looked around her. She knew where she was, but she wasn't sure what it meant. It was the same place where she'd once met with the ancestors of the orcs, and her parents, when she and Cold Hammer had taken the loostqa flower. It was just as cloudy as before, a thick fog filling every inch of the air. When she looked down, she couldn't see her feet through the fog. It was endless.

She didn't know if she would get an answer when she spoke, but she did. "No, my child, you are not dead...yet."

She turned but saw none. She didn't know what to make of those words either. Was her body still dying? "Where are you?" Her voice was still gentle, but she was feeling a little tentative in this place of strange mist and smoke.

"Everywhere." The voice that answered filled the entire space of this place, however much space that happened to be. She couldn't tell how far it went, but the voice went with it. It did sound like it was everywhere.

Erinne frowned and crossed her arms, "I don't like games." This wasn't funny. Her last memory was lying in a pool of her own blood with Cold Hammer's arms around her. If she was dead, she wanted to know now. Sharp laughter filled the air, leaving her straddling the line of irritation and uncertainty.

A shadow finally eased through the fog until an orc appeared before her. He wasn't nearly as big as his voice had made him sound, and there was an undertone of amusement in his eyes. His black hair was braided and was distinctly long, longer than any other orcs she'd ever seen. He had tribal markings on his face and arms and chest, painted in red and blue, bringing out the red undertones of his brown skin. He was beautiful, if an orc warrior could be considered as such. Every chiseled edge was well toned, healthy, full of life, as though he'd died at the very prime of his being.

He was, in fact, dead. She was in the place of the Ancestors, but he'd told her she wasn't. Why wasn't she dead? If she still lived, why was she here? Why was this orc here? She was full of questions and unsure if she'd get any answers. The Ancestors had been less than forthcoming last time, punishing her for confronting them.

Still, she risked speaking, "If I'm not dead, why am I here?"

"You are at a precarious point of life, a point between living and dying. You are neither here nor there, fully." He explained and even as he stood before her his voice echoed all around her like a mighty wind blowing through the air. "The shaman works hard to save you, just now Cold Hammer is begging the Ancestors for your life." He paused and smirked softly, "He has not prayed to us since his parents' perished. That was the last time he asked anything of the ancestors. Since then he has believed only in doing, not praying."

"Does it actually work?" She asked him, but her question was full of earnestness.

The orc took her question in stride, "The shamans say that this place is of another realm, a spirit realm. That, for the most part, we simply observe, but that our prayers give the ancestors power...in many ways, they are right." He studied her as he spoke and she studied him, as well, curious about the decorative paint plastered across his body. "That is why the whole clan dances and sings for you tonight. The more of them that pray, the more we can hear them. Listen..." he tilted his head and she strained to hear but heard nothing in the fog. She frowned and started to open her mouth but he threw up a fast hand to silence her. Just as she started to ignore his silent command, she heard them.

Erinne twisted her head, listening, straining to hear. Voices...so many voices...sorrowful and woeful, calling her name, calling to their ancestors. It was like a beautiful, sad song. Tears filled her eyes. "My clan..."

"They love you dearly." He murmured. "You have wandered this realm more than most, you visited your human family and the ancestors here. It is a vast realm for souls. You can understand how it would be hard to focus on the outer realm. The prayers...they give us strength to focus, though it is not always enough to intervene."