Night fell heavy over the Vjerniskógur Outpost, its once-peaceful forest groaning under the weight of war.
The alarm rang—a single, haunting horn.
ORCS.
The vile stench of them crept in before their hulking forms did—filthy beasts, eyes gleaming like coals, tusks bared in twisted grins.
Mei-Ling froze as the ground trembled beneath the charge.
Jingfei cursed, gripping a cooking ladle like a sword. "Perfect. it has been two moons, and the neighbors drop by for dinner."
"And we're the meal," Mei-Ling muttered, summoning her magic—but nothing came. Her palms sparked weakly, the air around her dead.
Panic clawed at her throat.
"Jingfei... I can't... it's gone."
Jingfei grabbed her arm. "Then run, dammit! Live now, magic later."
But the orcs were on them—massive, drooling, reeking of death. One swung his club, smashing through a wooden wall like it was paper.
Mei-Ling's eyes landed on a fallen elven blade—ornate, heavy, beautiful.
Without thinking, she lunged, lifting the sword with trembling arms. "Come on then!" she snarled.
Four orcs advanced, hulking shadows. One grinned, sharp teeth flashing.
"A pretty one. You'll scream nice."
Another licked his lips. "We eat her slow."
Mei-Ling's stomach turned, but she stood her ground. Bái Gui roared—his white fur streaked with blood, lunging at the closest orc, ripping flesh from bone.
The second orc didn't last long—a blur of silver hair and cold steel cut him clean in half.
Aelric.
His blade danced—elegant, brutal. Each strike a death sentence.
Mei-Ling's knees nearly gave, but she forced herself upright. "I had it," she lied breathlessly.
"You did not," Aelric snapped, eyes flickering toward her, then back to the enemy. "Stay behind me."
Before she could answer, a thick-fingered orc lunged from the shadows, seizing Mei-Ling from behind as if she weighed nothing. He hoisted her effortlessly, meaty hands tightening around her waist. Leaning in, he inhaled against her neck, shivering. "Smells... sweet."
Mei-Ling gasped, struggling wildly, her nails digging into his rough, leathery skin. "Let me go!" she hissed, thrashing harder.
The orc's yellowed tusks gleamed as he grinned. "Mmm... tender meat." His grip shifted—adjusting her as if already imagining the taste.
Aelric spun, eyes narrowing—but before he could move, another cry split the air.
"Jingfei!" Mei-Ling shrieked, the name barely leaving her lips before a second orc charged from the darkness. It collided with the first, breaking the ogre-like grip that held her. The jolt tore Mei-Ling free, stealing her breath as she stumbled.
But before she could regain her footing, a coarse sack was yanked over her head. Rough hands seized her—different hands, leaner but no less strong.
Then—steel flashed.
Aelric was there. His blade sliced through the night like silver lightning. With swift, merciless strikes, he cut down the orcs, each one falling before they could cry out.
But it was too late.
Jingfei was gone.
"NO! Jingfei!" " Mei-Ling shrieked, trying to chase, but white-hot pain lanced through her leg—she crumpled hard.
Aelric snarled, blade gleaming. "Lorianthel! With me!"
"On it!" Lorianthel appeared, bloodied but grinning, already hot on the trail.
Mei-Ling, gasping through tears, grabbed Aelric's arm. "Take me... I'm going... I must..."
"You can barely stand."
"I don't care."
Aelric cursed under his breath—then scooped her up, tossing her onto his horse. "Don't slow me down."
With a sharp whistle, Bái Gui leapt to Mei-Ling's side, tail lashing. "Stay," she choked. "Protect them here."
Reluctantly, the tiger obeyed.
****
The woods clawed at them—branches tearing flesh as they pursued Jingfei's captor. Lorianthel's sharp eyes caught the trail.
"There!" he hissed, pointing.
They skidded to a halt at a clearing—two grotesque ogres cackling around a bound and gagged Jingfei, already prepping the fire.
One ogre licked his lips. "Leg first?"
"Nah. Belly's where the fat is."
Bound to a Tree, Jingfei's muffled voice came—still somehow snarky. "Joke's on you, boys. I'm all bone and gristle."
Mei-Ling bit back a sob. "She's buying us time."
Aelric's jaw clenched. "We end this."
They burst from the brush—swords gleaming. Aelric cleaved the first ogre in half.
Lorianthel wasn't so lucky—his blade knocked from his hand, back slammed into a tree.
The second ogre roared, raising his club over Lorianthel's head.
"No!" Mei-Ling screamed—her eyes flaring silver.
Wind howled—swirling around her as she raised her hands. Magic—pure, raw—erupted, freezing the ogres mid-swing.
They hovered—shaking, snarling—but trapped.
With grim efficiency, Aelric drove his sword through their guts. They collapsed like broken dolls.
Lorianthel blinked up at Mei-Ling, awe dawning. "Remind me... never piss you off."
Mei-Ling stumbled toward Jingfei, cutting her free. Jingfei fell into her arms, laughing weakly. "Took you long enough. I was about to be dinner."
"You okay?"
"I'd kiss you if you weren't covered in ogre guts."
Lorianthel cleared his throat awkwardly. "What about me?"
Jingfei's grin turned wicked. "You? You get this."
She kissed his cheek, leaving a bloody smudge. Lorianthel stood frozen—face flaming red.
Aelric, cleaning his sword, snorted. "Romantic."
"Shut up," Lorianthel muttered.
"Let's go," Aelric ordered. "More will come."
****
As the group rided back to the Outpost, the remaining legion men erupted in cheer, already busy clearing the battlefield and setting fire to the orc corpses. They paid tribute to the fallen comrades, offering and singing a solemn Elven funeral song.
'Amidst the ancient woods, where shadows weave, We gather 'neath the stars, our hearts to grieve. A soul now departs, to realms unknown, In whispers of the wind, your name is sown.
Through moonlit glades and silver streams, Guided by starlight's ethereal gleam. A chapter ends, a spirit takes flight, In the tapestry of time, your memory ignites.
Fair journey, kin of twilight's grace, Beyond the mortal veil, to find your place. In the hush of night, we sing your song, A melody of love, forever strong.
Amongst the constellations, you'll reside, A radiant star in heavens wide. In the embrace of the elven breeze, Rest now, dear one, amongst the trees.
Farewell, dear soul, to distant shores, In elven hearts, your spirit soars. With reverence, we bid adieu, Eternal light shines, in realms anew.'
Mei-Ling stood back, tears streaming down her face, haunted by the painful aftermath of the attack and the countless losses. The melancholic melody resonated through the night until it gradually faded, leaving only the crackling sound of the bonfire and the shimmering night sky adorned with countless stars. The tired men eventually retreated to their tents, seeking much-needed rest after the harrowing events.
****
Mei-Ling, Later, restless, decided to freshen up by going to a nearby pond. Carefully not to be seen, she removed her clothes and stepped into the cool, calming water. She took a deep breath submerged her head, emerging with water streaming down her face. As she combed her long hair with her fingers, the moonlight illuminated her beautiful face, accentuating her bare breast and stomach.
Until... a splash.
She quickly turned, instinctively covering her exposed chest.
From the water emerged Aelric, Dripping, shirtless, muscles rippling. Equally stunned.
"You... spying?!"
Aelric scowled. "I was here first."
"You... you saw me!"
His ears burned. "Tried not to."
Mei-Ling covered herself, furious. "Get out!"
"I'm stuck," Aelric growled. "Foot... rocks."
Aelric exhaled slowly, his voice low as he offered the truth Mei-Ling hadn't asked for but perhaps deserved.
"I was here first... before you came," he began, avoiding her gaze. "I'd settled near the rocks—needed a moment to clear my head. But then... I saw you."
A shadow flickered across his face as he remembered, shame and something darker twisting in his gut. "I should've left... should've called out. But you were—" His words faltered, the memory of her slender figure shimmering beneath the moonlit water pulling at him even now.
A bitter chuckle escaped him, dry and self-deprecating. "Tried to slip away, quietly... but I lost my footing. Got my damned foot wedged between the rocks." He shook his head, lips pressed into a grim line. "Serves me right, I suppose."
"Serves you right," she hissed—but the sight of him, bare, wet, unguarded... did dangerous things to her mind.
For a moment, he stood there, reflecting on the absurdity of it all—how a single careless glance had rooted him in place, snared not by stone, but by the dangerous beauty of the moment. It wasn't the rocks that had trapped him. It was her—Mei-Ling, radiant and unknowing, gleaming like a siren in the moonlit pool.
"I was... distracted," he admitted at last, the weight of the word hanging between them.
"Turn around!" She firmly requested, allowing her to retrieve her scattered clothes. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but notice that Aelric still managed to steal occasional glances. In the midst of her attempt to put on her silk dress, an unexpected loss of balance then—she slipped backwards.
In a fluid and rapid motion, Aelric propelled himself out of the water, intercepting Mei-Ling's fall just before impact catching her, their wet naked bodies crashing together.
For a heartbeat, they simply stared—chests rising and falling, breaths ragged in the heavy night air. A flicker of surprise, mingled with raw vulnerability, danced across Mei-Ling's slightly parted lips. In that suspended moment, an irresistible urge surged through Aelric—an impulse to lean in, to taste her mouth for the very first time. But he held himself back, jaw tightening as he fought the sudden desire.
Reality snapped back like a whipcrack.
Mei-Ling gasped and recoiled, her eyes wide with something between panic and shame. She spun away from him, snatching up her damp slip dress with trembling hands and hastily covering her naked, glistening body.
Aelric flinched, the spell broken. He turned, awkwardly shielding himself with a hand as heat prickled his skin—whether from embarrassment or the lingering tension, he couldn't tell.
"I... I should go," Mei-Ling stammered, not daring to meet his gaze. Without waiting for his reply, she gathered the rest of her garments, her bare feet splashing against the wet stone as she fled into the night—back to the safety of her quarters.
Aelric stood there, naked and alone under the indifferent moonlight. An owl hooted mockingly from the darkness, its cry slicing through the silence.
"Oh, shut up," Aelric muttered bitterly, casting the bird a scowl as he began retrieving his clothes, the cool night air biting at his skin.