“We weren’t storming anything,” the orc said, voice deep but controlled. “We came to understand why the wolves circle closer each night.”
The witch bristled. “Because you’re pressing inward.”
“We’re standing where we were placed,” he shot back. “It’s the ground that feels different.”
The wolf barked once, sharp and irritated, not at either of them, but at the tension itself.
Twobble hurried down the steps with both hands raised, clipboard tucked awkwardly under his armpit so he didn’t drop it. Cindy sat on his shoulder, surveying the situation. Or at least that was what I chose to believe.
“No one is pressing. No one is circling. Everyone is simply… overlapping in a spirited fashion. We’re all in this together,” Twobble told them.
I reached the steps and cleared my throat.
“Enough. That’s enough.” My voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be, but it settled over them sufficiently to stop things.
The wolf’s ears flicked toward me immediately, and the orc’s posture shifted to a little less defensive.
The witch flushed and stepped back, as if remembering she was supposed to be learning conflict resolution, not modeling escalation.
Obviously, an orc on the steps of the Academy was startling to a midlife witch. Even in the magical world, most magical creatures stayed hidden. It had been key to their survival for centuries.
“What happened?” I asked.
The wolf shifted partially, enough that his words came clearer.
“We’ve been patrolling. Now that there are orcs and witches returning, the air has shifted.”
The orc nodded once. “Our scouts say the same, but of witches and shifters.”
A few witches lingered near the doorway, whispering softly. They didn’t seem frightened, just unsure.
The Academy hummed faintly beneath my boots. It felt like it wanted to see me during the conflict resolution.
“First of all, has anyone been harmed?” I asked.
“No.” They all answered, glancing at one another.
“Has anyone threatened to cross into violence?” My brows lifted instinctively.
Everyone shook their heads.
“Good because this isn’t about witches, shifters, and orcs. This is the Priestess’s hopes and dreams right here on the Academy steps. She can’t wait for us all to divide and shatter. It weakens us, making us more malleable in her hands. I’ve seen it done with my own family.”
The wolf’s gaze slid toward the trees. “The Wilds don’t feel settled.”
“They haven’t for days,” the orc said quietly.
“We’re all standing closer than we used to,” I said gently. “That’s bound to feel strange. The Wilds are learning the new ways as well.”
The witch cleared her throat. “The orcs are warriors.”
“Aren’t we all?” the wolf asked bluntly.
The orc’s mouth twitched despite himself.
Twobble nodded vigorously. “Yes. Passionate discourse. Very healthy. Almost scholarly.”
“You all are reacting to the same thing,” I said. “Pressure.”
