NOVEL NEXT Chapter 42 – The bitter truth
"Y-ya don't think... Captain, ya don't really think he could be there, right?" Morgana softly asks, her voice nervous and shaky. The ogre remains seated on the back of Juliette's horse as the blonde woman slowly and carefully follows the fresh trail of blood left by the wolf she injured just a short while ago.
The sun now proudly presents itself on the sky, casting bright rays of light across the dense forest as the day properly begins. Some of Juliette's soldiers ride a few meters behind her, providing escort for their captain, while the rest scout other sections of the woods... Close by her side, though, trots another horse that carries the nosy orcish ambassador and his elf assistant.
"I hope not... But we have to make sure." Juliette replies, keeping her eyes on the crimson traces covering the ground, and at the same time staying alert for any kind of menace. "Are you sure you don't want to wait in the camp...?"
"No, Captain... I-I'm sorry, I need to be 'ere..." Morgana sighs, holding back tears. "It's me fault this happened. I just... I-If little Garret really is..."
"Heeeeey, don't say that." Orok quickly butts into the conversation, moving closer with his steed. "Bet he is alright, we'll find him! Then you and I can go have some drinks to celebrate~." He winks his eye at the ogre, causing Juliette and Nova to annoyedly grunt at the same time.
Morgana remains silent for a second, before sweetly smiling, her gloomy expression lightening up. "Y-yes, ya are right, luv! I know he is okay, and I know we'll find 'im soon!" She states with determination, probably trying to reassure herself. "I have to stay positive."
"Gahaha, yeah! Now, about those ogre girls in your village who want to have a baby... If you had to rate each of them from one to ten, considering a one is terribly ugly and a ten is-"
"Uh, Morgana?" Nova calls the ogre's attention, desperate to switch the topic to anything else. "Forgive me for being so curious, but I want to learn more about your race... Why are your people so afraid of outsiders?"
"Oh! Well, it's kind of a long story, innit." The woman rubs her chin as she starts explaining. "To sum it up for ya, many centuries ago we faced persecution from all the other races due to our appearance... I believe we were mistaken for demons or somethin' similar..." She makes a small pause. "But, even after more time passed and people stopped considerin' us evil creatures, we continued bein' hunted just for these..." She points at the straight horns on the top of her head. "They were supposed to be very valuable!"
"Your horns? My friend Pink is a succubus and has horns too! Think they are worth something?" The orc ambassador interrupts.
"B-blimey, ya are friends with a succubus, ambassador? What an interestin' life!" The ogre's light grey eyes widen in surprise. "But I believe they must simply be made of bone, just like mine are... Ogres in the past had longer, ivory-made horns. Now we evolved into them bein' worthless, even growin' with a reddish tint to appear like they are part of our skin."
"Not that worthless actually, they probably make great handlebars~!"
Morgana tilts her head to the side. "Handlebars? What do ya mean'?"
Nova huffs, discreetly punching on the side of her master's body to stop his impertinent comments. "C-cut it out, retard! You are insufferable today...!" She angrily hisses, trying to not be heard by the other two women.
"Gahaha, it's your fault for not giving me an early morning blowjob. I'm all pent up!" He whispers back.
"I-I'll... I'll give you one later... J-just shut up for a minute...!" The elf sighs, her cheeks slightly blushy as she directs her attention towards Morgana again. "Please continue."
"Oh, aight, luv." She clears her throat. "So, over time, our ancestors simply decided to start isolatin' themselves to protect our kind from harm. It became a sort of survival strategy, and that fear of outsiders was passed down through generations and generations, even after we stopped bein' in danger..."
"Yet... Your people made that alliance with Malena." Juliette adds.
"Correct! That was impulsed by me father, actually. The previous leader. He was... Well, I believe he had beliefs close to mine about our relationship with outsiders, even if he kept 'em to himself..." Morgana melancholically smiles, one of her hands going upwards to caress the spot on her neck where her antique collar previously was, before promptly remembering she left it in her village, under her protegee's care. "We asked for protection and guaranteed privacy in yer territory, offerin' a direct tradin' route with our village. Ogres are expert artisans and builders, it's in our nature! We exchange our best crafts for materials and resources we can't get for ourselves."
"Yes, I've heard about that before from our royal advisor. She once gifted me a flute that was made by-" The captain starts talking just to immediately shut up as the trail of blood finally comes to an abrupt end. The wounded wolf she had previously fought now lays inert on the ground, its tongue limply hanging out while its unnatural red eyes keep themselves wide open. "Hmm..." The blonde steps down from her horse, using her palm to signal the mounted soldiers behind her to halt, then approaching the corpse and kneeling next to it.
"...You play the flute, Juli?" Orok asks after some moments of silence. The captain doesn't answer, just lets out a little embarrassed grunt as she continues examining the area around the dead animal, suddenly noticing what seems like a narrow entrance to a hidden cave nearby, cloaked by the abundant vegetation of the forest.
"There! That has to be their lair." Juliette points at it, standing up straight again. "Let's go take a look." She states, resting her hand on top of the round pommel of her greatsword.
Lanterns in hand, the group of four take turns squeezing through the small entry of the cave into its surprisingly spacious, yet unsurprisingly pitch-dark interior. "It seems like no one is home... Stay alert, though." The captain says, holding her oil lantern up as she cautiously starts exploring her now dimly-litted surroundings. Her three companions mimick her...
"It smells terrible in here." Nova coughs, using her free hand to shield her nose and mouth from the repugnant odor of death flooding the area.
Juliette nods her head. "I know this stench well..." She sighs, furrowing her brow as she passes next to some half-eaten rabbit remains. "Keep your eyes open, maybe-"
"I think I found something!" Orok exclaims, his eyes shining with excitement as he crouches down to grab an item partially buried beneath a pile of rubble in a corner of the cave. "Gahaha, woah! What's this doing here?" He says as, with a fast, eager motion, he pulls out a majestic-looking sword from the ground, its blade reflecting the yellowish light of his lantern in a dazzling display.
The immaculate weapon is made of what seems like polished steel, adorned with swirling, sophisticated patterns etched along its length and handle. While the blade is of a very light-grey color, almost pure white, the elegantly shaped hilt maintains a gleaming, golden hue. "So cool! I'm keeping it." The orc widely smiles as, despite the contrast of the refined sword with his brash personality, it feels perfect on his hand, almost weightless.
Captain Juliette intensely eyes the fancy sword. Almost salivating. "Y-you have to give that to me." She impatiently demands, walking close to Orok.
The orc takes a step backward. "What!? No!" He frowns. "You already have a sword."
"But I'm in charge of this operation and that means that every sort of treasure we find here has to be-"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." He rolls his eyes. "Finders keepers."
"T-that does not apply here, orc! You are directly stealing from Malena." The blonde accusingly points one finger at him.
"Finders keepers~."
"I just said that does not apply! Y-you are not even supposed to be here, I've never invited you!"
"Finders keepers~~~." He keeps smugly repeating.
"Hey! Stop acting like- eeeek!" All of a sudden, Nova, who decided to intervene, lets out a short squeal as her high heel hits some kind of strange lump in her way towards the arguing pair... "P-please come quickly!"
In the ground, amidst other scattered bones and remains, lies the corpse of an adult human man, his body ravaged and torn apart by what appears to be the ferocious appetite of the wolves who claimed the hideout as their own. Morgana's stomach sinks as she approaches... With trembling hands, the ogre illuminates the man's face, revealing a bald head, sunken eyes, and a rather distasteful goatee. The most disturbing part, though, must be the strange, black, bubbly foam... or what appears as foam, that covers his mouth and jaw.
"Oh no..." Morgana's voice quivers as she recognizes the man. "It's him! This is the bloke who... N-no, no, no... Garret!? Are ya 'ere, luv!? G-Garret, please come out! P-please!" Her cries echo off the rocky walls of the cave, filled with desperation and fear.
"Don't panic. Maybe... Maybe the wolves dragged this man here but... but the boy managed to escape and is somewhere else..." Juliette clumsily tries to give some comfort, though her words falter, not seeming to have any effect on the nervous ogre who hurriedly drifts away from the group.
"Gah, disgusting... Serves him right, though." Orok sighs, poking at the cadaver with the tip of his flamboyant new sword.
Nova, eyes wide with concern and alarm, points to the unsettling dark substance oozing from the man's parted lips. "Wh-what's that thing on his mouth...?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Juliette shakes her head. "I... I have no clue." she uneasily admits. "I've never seen anything like that before."
Morgana's heart pounds in her chest as she frantically searches through every nook and cranny of the cave's interior, the light cast by her lantern turning feeble from her erratic movements. "Garret, where are ya!?" she calls out once again, stepping into the deepest part of the large cavern, where the entrance of a short tunnel lays... and by the end of that tunnel...
The ogre collapses to her knees, overcome with grief and guilt. Tears freely drip down her cheeks as her jaw hangs open. "N-no... I'm... I'm so sorry. Garret, I'm so sorry..." She sobs, dropping her lantern and tightly hiding her face behind her palms.
The rest of the group then finally catches up with her, staying frozen in pure shock and horror at the sight in front of them, even the orc ambassador's carefree expression drops. "H-how's that possible...?" He confusedly mumbles under his breath.
At the end of the passage, surrounded by extinguished red candles and ancient crumbling tomes, is laid a makeshift ritualistic altar. Upon it rests a tiny, bound skeleton with short red horns, its bones unnaturally clean, devoid of any trace of flesh clinging to them... Surrounding the altar, erratic unknown symbols and what seems like smiling faces, scribbled with the same kind of black foamy liquid found before, adorn the walls.
The weight of the moment hangs heavily in the air as the group struggles with the macabre exhibit... The cave seems to close in around them as the darkness pushes in on all sides... An unseen malignant presence delights itself with the fear and anguish it witnesses...
