"Nothing worth it ever is."
Leone sighed, his shoulders slumped under the weight of the responsibility we all carried.
"Peace... such a strange word," he murmured.
"That’s exactly why we need it," I said. "If no one makes the effort to build something better, what will we be left with? Only more bloodshed, more resentment, and nothing real to sustain the future."
He studied me, likely trying to gauge whether my words were born of idealism or stubbornness. In the end, a broad smile broke across his face.
"You’ve changed, sister. You’re nothing like the little princess who used to sneak away to learn how to fight."
"And you don't look like the pompous male who walked around without a single hair out of place," I retorted with a crooked smile.
He let out a short, amused laugh, shaking his head. In that moment, I realized: even if I stayed here with Malek forever, Leo and I would always be two sides of the same coin.
That thought comforted me.
???
Night fell, and the pungent aroma of roasted meat and herbs drifted through the village. As usual, all the orcs gathered around the bonfire for dinner. I hoped they were busy enough not to notice I was gone.
Lately, I had taken advantage of these moments, when everyone was focused on their meal, to use the An Talamh, just as I had promised Malek. With it, I enriched the soil, making it more fertile and speeding the growth of the forest’s fruit trees.
The changes were small, almost imperceptible to the orcs’ eyes, but they would make a real difference for future harvests. The land of Oksha had never been as fertile as the fields of Ceilte; the High Fae had left behind a lingering darkmagic that had drained the soil, leaving it poor and hard for cultivation.
That was why the Okshai had always relied on hunting and foraging to survive. Yet at certain times of the year, especially in winter, when many animals hibernated, and resources grew scarce, they faced even greater hardships.
I hoped that with the An Talamh, I could help them.
The process of channeling the earth’s magic demanded absolute concentration and a stillness of mind that wasn’t always easy to achieve. Yet the more I used the power, the more natural it became. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath, feeling the ancestral energy flow through me, warm and steady, as if the land itself acknowledged my presence.
The earth hummed beneath my feet. It was the same vibration I had sensed in the forest just after the curse had taken hold, and it was what guided me now. My body absorbed Marukoksha’s strength and channeled it toward the roots and seeds struggling to sprout in the parched soil.
The process calmed me. In that moment, I forgot everything. I was merely a channel, an instrument for the magic. Here, doing this, I felt more at home than I ever had in Ceilte.
A wave of heat spread from my belly, traveling through my arms and down to the tips of my fingers. I opened my eyes. An emerald-green mist shimmered around the plants, a silent sign that the magic was at work.
Satisfied, I withdrew the energy and took a deep breath.
When I turned to go back to the hut, Malek was standing just a few feet away from me, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with an intensity that made my heart race. How long had he been there?
"Is this your magic?"
His voice was low, but weighted with curiosity and admiration. He stepped closer, his scent of wet earth and deep forest wrapping around me.
"Yes. The An Talamh," I explained. "It’s the magic that comes from my mother’s lineage."
Malek furrowed his brow, his beautiful brown eyes narrowing.
"Is it the magic they used to destroy our lands?"
The question struck me like a whip, slicing through the fragile calm I had managed to hold.
"No," I answered quickly, my pulse thrumming. "The An Talamh was never used to drain the life from the earth." I felt my fingers tingle slightly, as if the ground itself were waiting for me to say more. "It only creates and nurtures," I continued, my voice dropping even lower—a whisper that seemed to reverberate through the ancient trees. "All I do is return life, accelerate growth, and protect what remains. I have never taken anything from the earth that should not have been taken."
Malek held my gaze, his brow still furrowed, but a flicker of understanding passed through his eyes. His silence carried the weight of years, loss, battles, and hard-earned distrust. Finally, he drew a deep breath and, in a voice calmer than I had expected, offered a truce:
"Can I see?"
