8 years passed and Tu-lock had grown very much an outcast amongst most of the tribe. Disregarded by most of the male elders, except for Go'rath, who was very much like a grandfather to him. However, most of the women of the tribe respected Tuva enough to watch over the child as one of their own.
He had but two friends his whole life. Sova, Darlock's nephew, who treated him very much like a blood brother. And L'yra, a female who adored him as much as he did her.
Those of Darlock's blood and family had tattoo markings upon their faces and or bodies. Sova, who was two years older than Tu-lock, was set to get his markings on his next birthday. Tu-lock always wanted to fit in with his adopted family. While at play one day, he and Sova wrestled in the mud. After tiring each other out, Tu-lock began to paint himself with the mud with the same markings as Darlock. “What are you doing?” Sova asked.
“Nothing..” Tu-lock says. “Muds no good for that.. it'll just wash off.” Said Sova. “Hold on.” He added as he raced off. Minutes later he came back with paint he had found. “Let's use this!” They began to paint the markings on each other's faces, arms and chests. “Now You look like an Orc, cousin!” Sova laughed. Tu-lock felt proud and laughed too. They splashed mud at each other and wrestled some more. Sova let Tu-lock win one round and Tu-lock pranced around proudly and they laughed some more.
Darlock and some of the elders exited a nearby tent after a meeting. One of them noticed the boys and brought it to Darlocks attention. Darlock looked and saw Tu-lock painted with the markings on his face.
A great rage boiled within him. He let out a loud roar. The boys turned and froze as they watched Darlock stomp toward them. “HOW… DARE YOU!! You, You.. ARRGGHH!!”
He raised his right hand up ready to strike Tu-lock down with the back of his hand. But surely such a blow would've killed the small boy. Sova pushed Tu-lock aside and took the hard blow from his uncle. One of his tusk teeth splintered and flew from his mouth as he went soaring to the floor.
Tuva and Sova's father rushed over and pushed Darlock back. Darlock looked at Tu-lock with such rage. He had never seen Darlock so angry. Filled with great fear he ran away.
“Tu-lock! Tu-lock!” Tuva called to him. But he continued to run.
Tu-lock ran all the way over to a nearby riverbank and dropped on his rear and cried into his arms and knees.
Shortly thereafter, Tuva found him. She sighed with a slight breath of relief, seeing he was safe. She walked down to the riverbank and quietly sat a little behind him. Her legs and arms crossed, she looks and watches him.
Feeling her gaze upon him, he tries to take control of his sobs and wipes at his tears and cheeks.
“Are you finished?” She asks quietly.
He sniffs, but does not answer.
“Come.” She says calmly.
He remained silent and still.
“Come, Child..” She says, this time a bit more sternly.
He gets up, turns, with his head down, walks a few steps to her and sits in her lap.
She cradles him close, pulls out a moist rag and begins to clean his face of the dirt, mud and paint.
She cleans him in silence for a while.
Tears well once more in his eyes.
“Why.. why does he hate me so much..?” he sobs.
She stopped wiping his face and sighed.
“Darlock does not hate you.. it's more that.. he doesn't know, or understand you.. not like how I do..” She returns to cleaning him.
“Tell me. Why did you do this to your face?” She asked.
“I just.. I just wanted to be like you.. like him.. like the family…” he sighed.
“I see..” she says, “You must know. These tattoos.. have a meaning to this family.. A tradition. I, did not always have them.”
“You didn't?”
“No, dear child. I earned them.. just like you will someday.”
“What do they mean?” He asked.
“Ah, Well.. As it was told to me, long ago. Before this land was the home of The Oh'ani. Darlocks ancestor. Fought a great dragon to earn these lands for him and his people. He suffered many wounds and scars from the battle. These tattoos represent those scars. In the end, he bested the dragon and beat him..”
“He slayed a dragon!?” He exclaimed.
She smirked,
“Actually.. He spared the dragon's life.. as a sign of respect. In return, the dragon swore an oath to protect these lands and our tribe for as long as he lived..”
Tu-lock's eyes were wide with amazement and wonder at the tale.
But then a thought came to him and he frowned once more.
“What's wrong?” She asked.
“I could never do such great deeds.. I won't earn my tattoos..”
“What makes you think that?”
“I am not Orc…” tears streamed from his eyes and down his cheeks.
“Let me show you something..” She says.
She pulled out her knife, held out her hand and gently cut her palm.
“Hmm.. you see that?” She asks.
He sees the crimson red blood drip from her wound and he nods.
“Come..” She gestures for his hand and he presents it to her.
Even more gently, she made a tiny cut in his palm and he saw the same crimson red drip from his own hand.
His eyes widened as he looked up at her.
She smiled kindly.
“You may not be OF my blood.. But we are the same blood.. You are MY son, and I, your mother.. and nothing..”
She takes both their bloody hands and holds them together..
“Nothing.. will ever, ever change that! Do you understand?”
He nodded and sniffed. She wiped away his tears.
“Is Sova ok?” He asked sadly.
She nodded and said, “Sova is fine. He is strong and will learn something from this..”
“Learn what?” He asked.
“To Duck!” She said with a mischievous grin.
He couldn't help but laugh as she started to tickle his sides and stomach to make him laugh harder.
He wrapped his small arms around her and she held him so tightly.
They sat together by the river for a while. Until he grew tired and fell asleep in her arms. She carefully lifted him up and carried him back home.
Another tradition shared among the males of the tribe. Is the branding of the Tribe sygal of The Fist upon one's chest. At a certain age the Males of the tribe are taken into the wilds of the woods and abandoned, with nothing more than a blade or ax. Those that survived and found their way back to the tribe on their own, were branded with the Mark and considered a true Orc and a true member of the tribe. It meant the world to Tu-lock and he figured, if he could not earn the tattoos of his family, he would earn the Mark of The Tribe.
Tuva raised him as an Orc. Showed him how to make his own tools and weapons. How to hunt and make pelts and food from the animals he hunted. She taught him how to defend himself. How to live and breathe as an Orc.
Two years passed.
Tu-lock, Sova and L'yra were strolling along when talk came up of the trials and the Mark.
“Mark my words, friends. That brand will be emblazoned on my chest!” He said joyfully.
Nearby, Za'rak and his band of friends overheard Tu-lock's boasting.
“You wouldn't last a breath in the forest!” He grunted. Za'rak was an Orc of 17 years. A brand already on his chest.
“Even if you lasted a day.. little nomad.. You'd be prey for the Forest Witch!” He mocked.
Tu-lock had a questioning look on his face.
“You do know of the Spirit of the Forest, don't you?” He asked.
“The Forest Witch isn't real! Don't listen to him, Tu-lock!” L'yra said as she tugged on his arm to lead him away. “Let's go. His stench sickens me.” She added.
Za'rak growled at her with a nasty grin. “Oh, she is real alright.. you will see, little Nomad… you will see..” He called after them as they marched away. Sova, giving him a stern look from over his shoulder.
“Oh… you will see..” Za'rak mused softly. Muttering something to his friends, they all chuckled and grinned wickedly. A devious prank was set in motion.
A short time later, Sova parted ways with Tulock and L'yra and went home.
Tulock escorted L'yra to her home. As they strolled along in conversation, their hands brushed against each other. Startled, they paused for a second and shyly smiled at the moment. Tulock blushed to himself. They continued on in silence. L'yra always made him feel silly, He thought. Always made his stomach tie up in a knot. He had no idea why, but he felt, to the best as he could describe it, warm and weird. They came upon her home and before he could say his good night, She planted a wet kiss upon his cheek.
Startled, he asked, “What was that for?”
She simply shrugged and shoved him to the ground and rushed off, giggling as she went.
He got up off his rear and scratched his head, confused, and as he stood there in a stupor, he felt that warm and weird feeling again. Plus that pesky stomach knot. He sighed and shook his head, “Girls are strange.” He muttered to himself and turned toward home.
Tu-lock took his time getting home. Trying very hard to not think about what had just happened, and failing at it.
That's when Za'rak struck. Under the guise of friendship, Za'rak and his friends convinced Tu-lock to join them by a fire. “Come little-Nomad.. join us.” He said.
“Stop calling me that!” Tu-lock said sternly.
“Forgive me.. Orc-ling.” He scoffed under his breath. “Come.. join us..”
“No thanks. I'm late.. mother would be mad.” Tu-lock said shyly.
“You hear that?! His mother. Would be mad..” Za'rak mocked as his friends started laughing.
“Real Orc Men don't care if Mothers get mad! We drink.. we feast.. and we fuck our females!.. That! Is what makes a True Orc Man!” Said Za'rak. “You do want to be an Orc Man.. don't you? Get the Mark of our Tribe?.. I can help you.. tell you the secret of how to survive the forest..”
Tu-lock thought to himself. Wondering if he should join them.
“Sit! And drink..” Za'rak told him, offering him a cup of brew.
Tu-lock stepped forward and sat amongst them. He took the cup and drank a strong sip. It burned and choked him. He had never had brew before.
The group laughed loudly.
“Drink boy! Drink makes you strong!” One of them slapped his small back.
They all drank. Tu-lock followed along. He was still young and not experienced with Brew. It took only one full cup to make his head spin. A sip or two from a second cup and Tu-lock passed out into darkness. Little did he know. His cup was not all brew.
They stripped him down to nothing but his loincloth and abandoned him deep within a dark section of the forest.
Word reached Tuva the next morning and she nearly killed Za'rak and his friends.
But Darlock stopped her, claiming, “If its fate is to die in the wild.. Then so be it.”
Her eyes widened, “He is too young for the trials! You know this! By tribe law..”
“I make the laws!” Darlock interrupted.
Her eyes were aflame. She snorted and spat at his feet, “To the pits with your laws then!” She said,
She whistles for her hunting party to gather. But with a wave of his hand they froze in their tracks.
“If you search for it.. you search alone.” He says.
Tuva glared at him, “Why are you so willing to condemn our son to death!?”
“IT, is not, My Son!” Darlock spat, “My… my son died years ago…”
His words stung her heart. She inhaled back her tears, turned away and marched for the woods alone.
Darlock knew he hurt her. But did not call back for her.
Tu-lock awoke. Cold and alone. His head pounding and the world blurry. It was so dark in the forest. He surveyed his surroundings. He did not recognize these parts of the woods. He felt a wave of fear wash over him. The sights and sounds of the foreboding woods chilled him to the bone. He cried out for his mother. He called and called, but no soothing voice answered back.
After a long while, he wiped away his tears and realized something. This was his chance to prove himself, and prove himself he will.
With a deep breath he stood up and marched deeper into the wilderness, disappearing into the thick brush. Unaware of the dark specter that moved within the trees behind him.