• Chonky ChonkTranslator

The Orc's Awakening c9

Updated: Sep 19, 2021

Chapter 9: The Orc and Soul Fire


It’s hard staying calm when【DEATH】is looking over your shoulder.


In fact, it’s hard doing anything when someone is watching your every move.


I gather the ores to one side of the furnace, and the Ent stacks a mountain of firewood on the other side.


All that remains is to start the fire.


Though I never had to do it under pressure, I like campfires. It’s one of the few things I could do and enjoyed doing outdoors.


I went camping during grade school, and it’s been at least a dozen years since I’ve made my last one, but I still remember the basics.


My hands shake.


My body trembles.


My breathing is shallow.


I feel lightheaded, but I manage to stay on my feet.


I’m absolutely terrified, but I can still make a fire.


Orc: (I can do this...)


I take a sharpened stone and take a fully dried out piece of wood. I make a stack of shavings, and place logs around it like a bonfire.


I take a dark rock which I’m pretty sure is flint and ignited the shavings with a few sparks.


I blow on the small flames, and the fire slowly comes to life.


Orc: (Good...it's going...)


There is something about fire that is mesmerizing. How it flicks, dances, spreads, and changes.


Am I a pyromaniac?


Do I just like setting things on fire?


I do enjoy a good blow'em up simulator, but I thought everyone does in general.


The flames begin to grow, and the wood begins to crackle. Heat spreads into the room, as I throw in a handful of ores into the fire. Hopefully, it won't kill it.


As the fire tickles the rocks, I feel it. Something similar to the [Earth] magic. My consciousness takes hold of the flames as the fire suddenly roars into life.


What am I doing?


How am I doing this?


The heat singes my skin.


But something hotter than the fire reaches out from within me and pours into the fire itself.


Unlike the [warmth] that heals, this was something different.


【PASSION】


【DESIRE】


【HOPE】


【CREATION】


Something deep inside me lurches out of me as it screams to be released.


Pure 【OBSESSION】takes over me as the fire begins to consume my mind.


The adrenaline kicked in and pain became an obsolete detail.


I was going to make something.


I wanted to make something.


It was like my【SOUL】was listless and in agony, trying to scratch an itch that it couldn't quite reach. 4

Before me was the fire and within it was the ores.


[What do you want?]


It wasn't anyone's voice I recognized. It wasn't the Treant's.


[What is it that you need?]


I don't know.


[What is it that you want to do?]


All these questions and not a single answer.


Orc: "(snort) I need a weapon........."


[Why?]


Orc: "(snort)......to live........"


[And then what?]


Something ignited within me and erupted outwards.


It was an ancient thought, a long-abandoned feeling.


Decades of pent up regret, humiliation, anger, and sadness poured out into the fire and was instantly incinerated and disappeared.


Orc: (What did I want?)


Life used to be simpler.


But somewhere along the way, the fire inside me was extinguished. An empty void replaced where my heart was, and the gaping black hole consumed me.


Nothing mattered. Nothing was worth it. Nothing made any sense any more.


But now....


Energy poured in and began filling that endless void.


In my mind, I saw the entire universe pour everything into that gaping hole, andーー


ーーthe void cracked.


It bubbled and churned and writhed and shook.


It shrieked and screamed and squealed andーー


Orc: (I.......just am......)


It's that simple.


Orc: (I..........just want to be.........)


Orc: (I.......am...........!!)

Whips of flame in the shape of three-pronged claws reach out of the furnace to gather more wood and ores on its own and greedily stuffs it into its gaping mouth. I can feel it demand more space, more air as it pushes against the walls of the furnace.


I sit before it shocked.....and dazed...


What happened? What just happened right now?


My head swirls, as the flames lick at my burnt skin as I take a step back.


The fire belches and spits out a solid piece of metal onto the ground before me. The heat running through the iron hurriedly reforms and reshapes it as I feel my will pouring into it.


Something is still calling from the depths of my very being.


Something is pounding on the doors and wants to be let out.


I form a giant tub like container next to me as cool water pools into it.


I pour the water onto the red hot iron.


Steam hisses and explodes filling the room with a foggy mist.


It scalds my skin, and I shut my eyes but still feel the piece of iron before me cool.


My anvil.


A solid piece of black, shiny steel appears before me as the fire belches a smaller piece of ore. I quickly shape it similar to the iron as fire runs through its length as it does in my mind. The construct of the metal is etched into my memory, as the square and cylindrical shape takes form.


I throw it into a newly filled tub of water as it hisses, explodes, and blows out water on impact.


As it cools, a wooden handle connects and wraps around it, as it falls into my hand.


My hammer.


I swing the large heavy mallet to test it out, and it feels good.


I used up most of my ores.


I probably only have enough for a small blade.


Completely in a trance, the fire places the remaining small pieces of ores in one pile on top of the anvil as the hammer comes crashing down to smash it into one piece.


The flames roar as it reaches for the blade that is forming as I continue hammering away.


My blood pumps savagely as it seeps out of me, drops down the hammer, and lands on the blade.


The flames take a handful of dirt as it crushes it in its hands and pours the remains of the dust into the mix.


I strike down with tremendous force as each impact etches my will and life into the blade that begins to form. The insides lock into a complex lattices as the matters within the ore gather, align, combine, reorganize and dance according to my desires.


An unbreakable blade.


A razor sharp edge.


A deadly point on top.


Because if this world wants me dead, then I'm willing to fight.


With each stroke, the hammer crashes and the air is filled with a metallic shrill. The ground thunders with each swing of the hammer.


Inexplicable light infuses with the metal as it continues to flow brighter with each strike.


On the final stroke, my mind goes blank, as an explosive impact throws me to the far wall.


Everything. Goes. Black.


<<<<>>>>


CREDITS


Written by ChonkyTranslator

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