Book Two — Chapter Fourteen
The road to the Blasted Lands, years before the events of Book One
The land changed before the signs did.
Trees thinned.
Grass lost its color.
Streams ran shallow.
The wind carried dust that tasted wrong.
Vegetaone noticed because the road had taught him to notice.
Once, he would have waited until something attacked.
Now he saw danger in absence.
No birds.
No insects.
No travelers singing.
Even the sky seemed farther away. He passed a milestone half buried in red earth. Someone had carved two words into it.
BLASTED LANDS
Vegetaone stood beside it.
“That is not an encouraging name.”
No one answered.
He missed Borak.
And Zuro.
Even Harvek.
Traveling alone was quieter than it used to be.
The first camp he found belonged to soldiers. Horde banners snapped in the dry wind.
Orcs.
Trolls.
Forsaken.
A few Tauren.
Everyone looked tired.
Not travel tired.
War tired.
Vegetaone approached the gate.
A guard inspected him.
“Destination?”
“Dark Portal.”
The guard looked at his armor.
Then his axe.
Then his bag.
“First time?”
“Yes.”
The guard nodded toward the camp.
“Stay tonight.”
“I can keep moving.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
Vegetaone almost argued.
Then stopped.
Progress.
The guard noticed.
“Someone trained you.”
“Several people tried.”
The camp commander was an orc named Varkesh.
Older.
Scar across one eye.
No interest in conversation that did not matter.
He studied Vegetaone’s route.
“Booty Bay?”
“Yes.”
“On foot?”
“Mostly.”
“Why?”
Vegetaone thought about the answer.
Because he wanted to see what was beyond the next road.
Because there was a portal to another world.
Because after everything he had seen, stopping felt stranger than continuing.
“I’m not sure.”
Varkesh nodded.
“Better answer than most.”
He pointed east.
“The Portal is guarded. Roads aren’t.”
“Demons?”
“Sometimes.”
“Alliance?”
“Sometimes.”
“Other things?”
Varkesh looked at him.
“Yes.”
Vegetaone waited.
“That’s all?”
“That’s enough.”
That night, Vegetaone sat beside a low fire with soldiers preparing to move east.
Their equipment was better than his.
Their armor carried repairs.
Real repairs.
Not decorative.
Not temporary.
Plate patched where something had nearly cut through.
Shields burned black around the edges.
One warrior sharpened a sword missing part of its guard.
Vegetaone understood those objects.
Things that had held.
Things repaired because someone needed them again tomorrow.
A young troll noticed the enchanted edge of Vegetaone’s axe.
“You do that?”
“A little.”
“Can you improve mine?”
Vegetaone examined the troll’s dagger.
The enchantment was nearly gone.
“I might make it worse.”
The troll shrugged.
“Still counts as different.”
Vegetaone smiled.
He worked slowly.
Used a little dust.
A little oil.
The magic settled.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
The troll tested the edge.
“Better.”
Vegetaone felt something he had not expected.
Pride.
Not because the enchantment was powerful.
Because someone else would carry it.
The attack came before dawn.
No horn.
No warning.
A scream beyond the eastern fence.
Then fire.
Vegetaone woke with his axe already in hand.
Shapes moved through the smoke.
Not quilboar.
Not centaur.
Not anything he knew.
Long limbs.
Blackened skin.
Eyes like coals.
One climbed over the barricade.
A soldier met it with a spear.
The creature broke the shaft.
Vegetaone struck from the side.
The enchanted axe bit deeper than it should have.
The creature fell.
Another came behind it.
Vegetaone did not chase.
Held the line.
Protected the gap.
Waited for the soldiers beside him.
That was new.
The fight spread across the camp.
A supply tent caught fire.
Someone shouted for water.
Another shouted for the east wall.
Vegetaone saw a wounded soldier fall near the gate.
Months ago, he might have pursued the creature that struck him.
Instead, Vegetaone grabbed the soldier by the armor and pulled him behind cover.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.”
The man tried.
“No.”
“That answer changed quickly.”
Vegetaone dragged him farther.
The attack ended as suddenly as it began.
The creatures withdrew into the red dawn.
No victory cry followed.
Only breathing.
Groans.
Work.
The soldiers immediately repaired the fence.
Extinguished fires.
Counted wounded.
Prepared for the next attack.
Vegetaone stood in the middle of it.
This was not adventure.
Not the Valley of Trials.
Not a mystery in a watchtower.
This land had been fighting for so long that survival itself had become routine.
Varkesh found him near sunrise.
“You held the east gap.”
“Yes.”
“You followed orders.”
Vegetaone looked at him.
“That sounded insulting.”
“It was praise.”
“I’m not used to it.”
“Learn.”
Varkesh handed him a cloth strip marked with the Horde symbol.
“What’s this?”
“Pass marker. Show it at the forward posts.”
Vegetaone took it.
“You’re letting me continue.”
“I was never stopping you.”
“You told me to stay.”
“For the night.”
Vegetaone looked east.
The horizon burned red beneath the rising sun.
“How far?”
“Portal?”
“Yes.”
“Day if nothing finds you.”
“And if something does?”
Varkesh shrugged.
“Longer.”
Vegetaone smiled.
He liked the answer.
The road east was scarred.
Cratered.
Broken.
Old bones lay half buried in the red dust.
Vegetaone did not examine them closely.
He passed shattered siege equipment.
Stone blackened by old fire.
Places where nothing grew.
Meris’s words returned.
Some places remember what happened to them.
Now he understood a little.
The Blasted Lands did not feel empty.
They felt wounded.
He walked more quietly.
Not from fear.
Respect.
Near midday, he found a broken wagon beside the road.
A dwarf lay beneath it.
Alive.
Barely.
Vegetaone stopped.
The dwarf opened one eye.
“Horde.”
“Yes.”
“Could’ve been worse.”
Vegetaone crouched.
“Alliance?”
“Yes.”
“Could’ve been worse.”
The dwarf laughed despite the pain.
Together they pushed enough of the wagon aside to free his leg.
Broken.
Vegetaone splinted it.
The dwarf watched.
“You a healer?”
“No.”
“You people really need to stop saying that after you start medical work.”
“I’ve heard that.”
A patrol appeared an hour later.
Alliance.
Weapons raised when they saw Vegetaone.
Vegetaone stepped back from the dwarf.
Hands visible.
The dwarf shouted before anyone attacked.
“He pulled me out.”
The soldiers hesitated.
One human lowered his sword first.
Vegetaone picked up his axe.
No fight.
No friendship either.
Just a road where everyone had more important enemies.
He continued east.
Late that afternoon, the sky changed. Green light touched the clouds.
Vegetaone stopped.
The road climbed.
Wind pushed against him.
Something enormous stood beyond the ridge. He could not see all of it yet.
Only the upper curve.
Stone.
Metal.
Green fire.
His heartbeat quickened.
He walked faster.
Then stopped himself.
Smiled.
And walked normally.
No need to rush.
The Portal was not going anywhere. At the top of the ridge, Vegetaone finally saw it.
The Dark Portal.
For once, he had nothing to say.
End of Chapter Fourteen