The punch was swift and would have broken his jaw, had Learn not reacted quickly and blocked the blow. The punch still hurt, smashing into Learn’s forearm with a crunching sound. Conquer stood before him, and where Learn would have expected anger to line his father’s face, there was instead a blank expression. Conquer didn’t look like he cared at all about what Learn had said. He seemed… bored.

“You’re still Whelp,” Conquer said, “no matter what your Command may be.” The older orc hoisted Learn up by his arm, yanking upward until Learn stumbled to his feet. “You listen to me, your clan leader. Your father. If you dare show me any disrespect, you will face consequences.”

Learn could do nothing more than nod. Even now, his Command was firing in ways that he wasn’t yet used to, supplying him with information he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. Like how Conquer was holding back his fury, keeping his expression blank but showing his anger in the tensing of his neck and arms, the veins pushing their way to the surface. Like how there was little love for Learn in the way Conquer acted. Like how his father wasn’t lying; how Learn would be beaten if he stepped out of line. Maybe even killed.

“Good. Learn,” Conquer rolled his son’s name around in his mouth, grimacing at the taste. “Go help salvage from the field. Find a use for yourself.”

Learn felt the attention of every orc like a physical pressure, one he wasn’t unused to, but one which he felt capable of dealing with now. Like a wave, they pulled back, leaving ample space around him, forming a vague circle. There was a clear field, around one hundred feet in the circle, and Learn could look straight at his father with nothing in between the two of them.

His father’s eyes were rimmed in red, his tusks were thrust forward, his muscles were tense and bloodshot. He was always used to being in charge, and Learn felt a petty stab of pleasure in knowing that he had his father flustered.

“You listen to this?” Conquer shouted the assemblage. “This traitor! Giver-away of secrets! He has no tusks! He is no orc!”

Learn walked forward a step, toward his father. Nobody moved to stop him. He raised a hand toward the rope around his neck, to the tusks that hung from it. Each step had them bounce lightly against his chest, reminding him of their presence, and he rubbed a finger up the surface of one of them. It was smooth and cool to the touch.

“I earned my tusks.” he said as he took another step forward. “Free himself took them, branded me as you do now. I earned them back. Took them from the god’s own hand.”

He looked around him, at his people. Some had tense expectation written on their faces, some pure anger. But all of them were looking at him, not at Conquer. If Learn misstepped, if he had miscalculated even slightly, he would die, here and now, torn apart by his brothers and sisters.

But then, if he had miscalculated, his people weren’t worth the effort. If he had miscalculated, orcs were nothing but their basest, their most violent, bloodthirsty impulses. And Learn believed that they could be so much more than that.

“Conquer has misled you,” he said to the orcs. “Where a good leader would secure you peace, he has brought war. He has taken you out of the Red Desert, out of our homeland. And for what?”

“Learn—” Conquer growled menacingly. Learn ignored him and continued speaking, though his heart and stomach flip-flopped and begged him to stop.

“Conquer has misled you and denied you your freedom, in order to deny my freedom. It goes against the god! I left of my own choosing! A mistake, perhaps, but a necessary one. Nothing was stolen! Nothing taken, no great loss. There is no compensation to be taken from Shrike; innocents. They know nothing of our ways.

“Conquer! I challenge you to the rite of strength!”

Conquer stepped up to Learn, loomed over him.

“Why should I accept?” his father asked. “If all it took to rule was pretty words, your own mother could have ruled in my stead. It takes work, boy. Thankless, bitter work. And now you want to profit off of my labor? Smelt the iron from the sand I have gathered?” he laughed. “I don’t think so, Whelp.”

Learn stood silent, only looking over at the orcs around him. None stepped forward, none dared to interrupt.

“It is my right to challenge you,” Learn said. “Everyone here knows that to be true. Do you deny me that right?”

Conquer growled, but didn’t step forward. Learn was in the right here, and nobody was going to take that right away from him. As scared as Learn was, he was happy to see that his people were not tied to Conquer’s will as entirely as they could have been. Good, in that his people were following their own will. Bad, that they seemed to enjoy throwing their strength against Shrike, that they would so engage in needless bloodshed. Conquer said nothing, so Learn tossed out his last shot. He needed to get Conquer to accept.

“I am Tasked. I have learned the sorceries of Shrike, the secrets of Know. This is my strength, and my advantage. The Rite of Strength doesn’t preclude uneven challenges; but let us even the scales. My hands stay bound. Are you still frightened, Conquer?”

Conquer, quick as a whip, latched his hand around Learn’s throat. Learn didn’t resist, but held his breath and looked down, got some of his chin in the way. He tried to swallow the panic that swelled within him, the urge to fight back, to try and break free. There were so many ways for this to go wrong, but he had to keep pushing, had to get Conquer to agree, to free his people. If Conquer killed him here, if he was wrong about the orcs, they would disagree with Conquer, but the fight would rage, and both Shrike and the orcs would become shadows of their full selves. He dangled, getting the low, tight breaths that he could force in.

“Don’t dare to presume what I feel, Whelp.” whispered Conquer. “I do not fear you, I don’t deem you worthy of my time.” A blatant lie, as Conquer had brought all orc-kind together to get Learn.

Someone stepped up and pulled Conquer’s arm away from Learn’s neck. Learn took in a gasping breath, savoring the rush of cold. The orc who had interfered looked somber, with tusks withdrawn and brows furrowed in sadness. It took Learn a moment to recognize the man; Wreck. His father’s second in command. The man was brutal, violent, and vicious, but he stood by tradition. Until now, Learn had never seen Wreck do anything to defy Conquer’s will. He gave Wreck a nod. Wreck didn’t return it.

“It is his right.” Wreck said. Conquer gnashed at him, but Wreck simply stepped back into the crowd. Finally, Conquer tossed aside his weapon. He cracked his neck to one side, then the other.

“I accept your challenge.” Conquer spat. “Here. Now. Hands tied, traitor.”

Learn’s pulse quickened, and he backed up as far as he could go. The orcs backed up, locked shoulder to shoulder, withdrawing the rough circle around the two, enough space for them to fight and grapple and bleed each other until one stood victorious.

This was it. This was the crux of his plan. Learn had needed to leave the Red Desert, because in just the same way he couldn’t trust the Biters to let him follow his Command, they were unable to trust him, the odd, different one. The outcast. Learn had left, and in doing so found himself a community. Found himself people he could trust, who accepted him faults and all. He wanted to bring that to his own people, to his clan and family. The family he couldn’t choose.

He turned back. The walls of Shrike were tall, but Learn could see a tower, one of the city’s churches, it’s too-tall tower peeking out from behind the walls. He wished he had more time to test, more time to experiment with Lrfshmn’s powder. Life, as always, failed to operate on his schedule. He would have to hope that his theories were correct, and that everything would work the way he needed it too.

He took another deep breath, his throat protesting. And all he had to do was trust. If he was right, if his plan would work, today would be the dawning of a new age for orcs. A period of trust, of communication and partnership with all species. Difficult, for sure, but worthwhile in the end. The events of today he had set in motion by his own hand, but he had no hand in them now. No agency, no power. Just trust in himself, trust in his plan, trust in his people; not the orcs, but the kindred spirits he had found in Shrike. Who put his needs before their own, whom he could wake in the middle of the dark, wet night and beg assistance.

He turned to Conquer. His father stood in front of him, both at the center of the circle. To his surprise, Learn saw wetness form in the corner of Conquer’s eye. What?

“You’re making me do this, Learn.” Conquer whispered. “This was never my choice.”

“I make you do nothing,” he responded. “Forfeit. Let me lead our people into a golden age.”

“You will lead them astray.”

“You already have.”

Conquer blinked, once, letting the single tear drop. He blinked, and his face was the same picture of rage that it had been.

“So be it.”

The two were opposite sides of the makeshift arena, Learn closer to the wall of orcs, Conquer further away. They looked toward each other, and a moment paused in which the world stood still. Absolute silence, both beyond the shields and in front of them.

The moment broke, and Conquer brought his weight to bear toward Learn, rushing at him full-speed. Learn took a deep breath in, forced down the mounting panic rising within his throat, the bile that was threatening to spill out of his mouth. He forced his face into a neutral expression as his brutal, vicious father came to tear him apart, bit by bloody bit.

Nothing happened for a second, the hillside was silent save for the crunching of dried leaves beneath Conquer’s feet and Learn closed his eyes. He thought that it was too late, that he was dead, and he tried to order his thoughts to focus, to cast a spell, to do something —

There was a noise, like an explosion. Learn opened his eyes and saw Conquer’s head rock backward, blood spurting into the air from the center of his forehead. His father’s momentum carried him forward, and he landed on his face, hard, skidding forward until the rough terrain stopped him. He didn’t move from where he fell. After a few moments, Learn stepped forward.

Learn knelt down next to his father. Everything was still there, all of the muscle, the war-torn slabs of craggy skin, and as Learn turned his father’s face toward the sky, he saw even the rage and hatred that lent Conquer his strength. Learn carefully, gently, closed his father’s eyes, though the bindings made the motion awkward and clumsy. Especially now, he had to be careful. It was a fine line to walk, between honoring the traditions while maneuvering to discard the worst of them. He stood, eyes flickering over the orcs until they settled on Wreck. He knew Conquer, and their traditions, well.

“You. Get others, take my honored father’s body. Prepare it for the pyre.” He need not speak loudly, he had the orcs’ rapt attention. He had won a rite of strength, using magics with which they were entirely unfamiliar, which seemed to come from nowhere. Wreck nodded, bowed his head. Learn turned, surveying the people — his people now. They all stood, regarding him with mixtures of apprehension, fear, and respect.

“Lay down your arms,” he said, putting a force he didn’t feel into his voice. A quiet moment, then one orc; he did not recognize her, placed down her axe. She knelt, and was soon followed by others, who had more and more following, until the assembly was kneeling, showing their new clan leader the respect he had just won. Learn’s euphoria was tainted with bitterness at the price it had cost, but it did not outweigh what he had accomplished.

An entire war averted, all at the cost of one life. And so what if that life was important to him? This was a price he would pay again, if he had to. His was the correct path, he was certain of it.

“Wreck.” Learn said. “You served my father well, and so will do the same to me.” Wreck, honored by being referred by the new leader, nodded and placed his fist to his chest.

“Withdraw our — withdraw my people from the walls. Let the human soldiers see that we mean no ill. The war was the efforts of one orc, and we do not want the same things he wanted.” This would, too, hopefully mean that Wreck, a rabble-rouser by anyone’s standards, couldn’t interfere with Learn’s attempts at bringing peace with him. Wreck nodded and got to his task. Slowly, the pivotal moment dissipated. A new order had established itself, and the orcs would follow their leader, rely on him for safety and prosperity. Learn looked toward the wall, toward Asch. He said nothing, but simply motioned with his hands to the orcs behind him, weapons left on the ground, withdrawing from the battleground.

Asch conferred with one of the squad leaders, whispers impossible to hear. The soldiers lowered one of the massive shields, and Learn stepped through, back into Shrike. Already, the whispering of soldiers surrounded him, hushed and awed by the tremendous mystical power that Learn wielded.

He wouldn’t hear until later that rumors were flying. While the secrets of Satisfaction’s school weren’t widely spread, some knew of the requirements of her spellcasting. That Learn, the newest apprentice to the Mage’s Forum, with his bloody focus, could do away with not just verbalizing his spell, but with his somatics and components too. That this brute, this orc, could cast a spell silently, without movement, and bring down a giant of a tyrant. That he exerted some form of control over the orcs to withdraw them.

No longer was Learn just an orc, just one of the Other. No longer was he an unrecognizable face in the crowd, nor an eccentric, allowed only for the value of his entertainment. These soldiers, they whispered these rumors, and always were they followed with his name, with his Command, with him.

“The leader of the orcs. The strongest mage in the Forum. Tasked. Genius, cunning, intellect.”

“Learn.”