Dexter

The next week passed by slowly, as did my progress with the rubber. The corner gradually accumulated more and more failed attempts as the ceremony loomed closer and closer. The inkwell definitely helped keep the proportions in order. I think the problem was the latex polymers; once I isolated them from the rest of the sap, they were a fraction of their original volume. As such, I had to anticipate this change and add less sulfur than I thought necessary to prevent the rubber from becoming brittle. It took a lot of trials and innumerable errors, but I finally had a lump of hard rubber the day before the branding. I threw the half-sphere onto the table experientially once it finally became cool enough to handle. It bounced a few times before thudding firmly onto the table. “Perfect.” I sighed, picking the lump back up and palming it gently. The only other thing I had to test was its ability to retain its shape. I walked over to my bucket of tools and pulled out one of the vise clamps littering the inner pockets. I set the piece of rubber on the edge of one of the tables and started winding the clamp closed around it. The material yielded to the immense pressure as I gave the screw a couple of turns. Once I was satisfied that I was properly stressing it, I let out a sigh as I stretched and walked over to Amelia.

She looked up as I sat heavily beside her. “Finally done?” She asked.

I nodded as I stretched a bit more. “I just have to make sure the lump can withstand extended pressure. I already have the heat thing figured out. So, no worries about it melting there. Other than that, I should have the autoclave up in the next day or so.”

She nodded as she looked back down at the spellbook she was reading. We sat in silence for a bit, punctuated only by a few popping joints and the occasional movement of parchment. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” She asked suddenly, looking back up at me again. “Have you settled your thoughts about the branding?

I stopped in the middle of my stretch, unprepared for the question. I let out a sigh as I quickly compiled my thoughts over the last week, trying to come up with a reply. “I don't know.” I finally admitted. “I'm dead set on making sure the orcs understand why I'm fighting, why I earned the title, but I don't know if the symbol is enough. I don't know if it would be good enough to convey that I'm not like what they think I'm like. It feels like some weird inadequacy thing I ran into a lot during projects. I just want to add one more detail to make this perfect. Yet when I try and think of some way to get rid of this feeling, I'm coming up blank.” I sighed heavily as I felt a twinge of anxiety rear its head. “I’m just not committed like I usually am.”

Amelia nodded along as I finished my spiel. “Having all that on your mind would make anyone question their choices.” She agreed. “With what you've promised to do I'd imagine the feeling is even more so.”

I let out a groan as I closed my eyes and rubbed my eyelids. “Don't even get me started on that,” I muttered. “At the rate I'm going, I’ll be lucky to start heading to Nione within the next decade.” I sighed again as I glanced at the table of discarded siege weapon ideas. “I'm also no closer to coming up with a viable weapon for the tribes. I expected to come up with something while I waited, but that's also been a no go.” I groaned again as I turned back to Amelia, the thoughts weighing heavy on my mind. “There are too many variables to consider,” I muttered.

Amelia nodded again as I stretched again, trying to take my mind off the looming notions. “Just give it some time.” She said comfortingly. “Something might strike you in a month or so. You won’t know until later.”

I nodded as I glanced back at the table holding the lump of rubber. The vise grip was sticking from the table like a malformed hilt. “I can only hope so,” I muttered in agreement. “Because right now, I have no idea what I'm going to do.”

Before I knew it, I was being woken up by Amelia on the day of my branding. “Get up.” She whispered. “Bulak is here.”

I let out a groan as I sat up. “Why is she here?” I grunted sleepily, still tired from yesterday’s project.

Amelia’s figure gestured towards the door as I reached for my glasses. “She said you have to get ready for the ceremony. You're going to get the brand at noon.” I nodded as I looked around. The morning light seeped into the barn, for once giving an air of warmth to the building. Spring was approaching quickly.

I finally stretched as I turned and dropped to the floor, letting out a low yawn. “Alright, let's do this,” I said as I pulled on my glasses and started walking towards the ladder. I let out another yawn as I climbed downstairs, rungs creaking beneath my weight. Amelia followed as I approached Bulak. She was wearing a poncho similar to the one she wore at the funeral. Though this one was noticeable more vibrant.

Bulak’s smile only added to her outfit as I stopped in front of her. “Is our Champion ready?” She asked encouragingly.

I nodded as I stretched again, glad to see an encouraging expression. “Ready as I'll ever be.” I yawned, rubbing away the last of my drowsiness. Bulak nodded as she turned to lead me out the door. I started to follow, but quickly remembered the vise clamp I'd left on the table. “Hang on a second.” I said as I turned toward the table.” Just let me check one last thing.” Bulak turned to me as I walked over to the table. I unwound the clamp and inspected the lump of rubber beneath it. For the last couple of hours, the material had developed an impression of the clamp. Fortunately, the mark that was left was extremely shallow and superficial, mostly concentrated around where the edge of the clamp had pressed down and cut the rubber. I grinned as I squeezed the hardened mass and saw the mark practically vanish before my eyes. I nodded as I tossed the rubber back onto the table, satisfied with my latest product. I then turned back and joined Bulak by the door. “Let's do this.” Bulak nodded as she turned and pulled open the door leading me outside.

As I was walking out the door, Amelia suddenly grabbed my arm, stopping me before the doorway. “I'll see you at the ceremony.” She said. “I think you'll want some alone time to resolve the last of your hesitations.”

My face fell as I was reminded of my lingering thoughts. However, I pursed my lips before nodding, waving to Amelia as I continued to follow Bulak. “I'll see you then,” I affirmed, hiding the unease that had just swelled up in me. I then turned and continued following Bulak down the hill.

Bulak explained the nuances of the ceremony as we made our way down the hill. “The event will be held in the public square, near the eastern gate. You still have some time before the branding. So, we will use it to ensure that you are properly prepared. Your attire may be comfortable, but it is inappropriate for the ceremony. I have proper attire stored nearby. You may don it once we arrive. There are also some ceremonial paints that you require. Since you do not know how to apply them I shall assist you.” I nodded as we continued walking, past nearly finished houses and other newly repaired buildings. The hostility I encountered when first entering the city was almost entirely gone now, replaced by mostly neutral gestures with a few well wishes sprinkled in. Though they did turn slightly hostile again once we ventured further into the Eastern District. Eventually, Bulak led me to a building next to an open area of cobblestone, most likely the square she mentioned earlier. The raised wooden platform nearby supported my assumption. A burning brazier sat upon it, small embers floating up from the coals before fizzing out. A crowd was already gathering and they glanced my way as I passed. I quickly followed Bulak inside as I felt goosebumps forming on my chest.

We stepped into a room filled with racks on racks of furs, each of various sizes and seeming from various animals. Bulak led me towards the rear, past the room of furs and into a back room. In there awaited a small group of orcs, who turned to us as we entered. There were four of them in total, either standing or sitting around a small stool. A set of three rough mirrors stood in front of the stool, giving me a slightly muddled vision of myself as I walked closer. A couple of unopened dressers sat along the walls, filling the room with a musky pine scent. “This is the one?” One of them asked.

Bulak nodded as she gestured to me. “This is the Champion.” She confirmed. The orc that had spoken nodded as he moved to circle me, eyeing me up as he did so. He was barely taller than my shoulders, green eyes inspecting all of me as his short dark ponytail swayed side to side.

He tilted his head as he finally spoke again. “Broad shoulders, long torso, he'll require a larger fur. Yagnar, go get the Appaloosa skin. That should work for his Champion's shawl.” One of the others nodded as he turned and disappeared through another door. The first orc then turned back to me as he pulled out a strip of leather and held it up to me, positioning my arm at one point as he measured several parts of my body. Finally, he nodded and walked back over to the stool. “I have a ceremonial shawl you can wear before the event. I should be able to finish your Champion's shawl before it begins.”

I turned to Bulak quizzically. “Champion's shawl?” I asked.

Bulak nodded as she gestured at the orc that just walked back through the other door. He was carrying a large pelt, brown spots dotting the white fur. “Each Champion is given a shawl when they are branded. It is an additional status symbol bestowed upon them in addition to the brand. Spotted animals are not easy to come by. The rarity of the fur makes it highly valued. Even then, to have a shawl worn by a Champion is a high honor.”

I sighed reluctantly as the tailor orc gestured for me to move towards the stool. I complied as I responded to the explanation. “That's assuming anyone would want a shawl worn by an outsider,” I remarked gloomily. “The fur might be rare, but I know there's still a stigma against people like me.”

Bulak shrugged as the orc tossed the fur over my shoulders and began measuring again. “It is a long-held tradition. You may have joined us under extraordinary circumstances, but you still have shown dedication to our traditions. It is only right that you are respected in kind.”

I sighed again as the orc continued to work on me, one particular tradition coming to the forefront of my mind. “It’s probably not going to change things that much,” I muttered. “A lot of them will still hate me and I’m hardly one to show off my chest. I won’t have many reasons to wear the shawl either. The shirts I have are just more comfortable.”

Bulak let out a sigh as the orc continued his work. “The shawl will not give you the honor you deserve.” She replied, almost wistfully. “That is a regrettable fact of our people. You have given so much to help us and they still see you as an outsider.” I let out a sigh as I glanced at one of the mirrors. I could see Bulak in the reflection, glancing towards the door sorrowfully. “I wish that were not the case, but wishes are not so easily granted.” I saw her shake her head as she turned back to me. “No, only you and your actions can sway the thoughts of others. That is how you came to be a Champion. That is how you can sway more to your side.” I let out another sigh as I turned to the other mirror, watching the tailor work away at the shawl, using small needles to pin the fur in place. I looked at my reflection as I pondered Bulak’s words. “The title won’t give me the respect I was hoping for.” I realized. “I should have expected as much, but with all the excitement I guess I got a little bit ahead of myself.” I let out a sigh as I pondered the implications of the idea. “It shouldn’t matter that much. That just means I have to work a bit harder. I have to prove myself to the rest of the city. Prove that I can be trusted. That the ideas I present can benefit others. … Almar can be postponed, at least for a little while. For now, I need to prove to this city that I can be trusted. That I am worthy of the title bestowed to me.”

Suddenly, the tailor orc spoke again, interrupting my thoughts. “Well, I, for one, think it is an honor to have a Champion gracing my shop, even if you are an outsider.”

I sighed as I was reminded of where I was at the moment and not where I wanted to be right now. I tried to turn to the tailor, his position behind me making the task difficult. “I appreciate that, but not everyone is as honored as you are. Hell, I'm pretty sure at least one person out there secretly wants to kill me.”

Bulak shrugged as she moved in front of me, giving me a clear and unmuddled view of her. “That may be, but you have already managed to sway the minds of many of the orcs here. I am confident that you can continue to do so for any others.”

I sighed as the orc finally finished and pulled the skin off me again. “I know you’re right, but I’m afraid that some people just can't be swayed. The ones that already have probably had a subconscious belief that not all outsiders are like Him. I'm just the push they needed to have their opinions change.”

Bulak shook her head again as the orc tossed another fur over my shoulder, this one a solid brown hue. “You underestimate your contribution.” She countered. “You were still the deciding factor in that change. The city would still hate outsiders if it was not for you. … myself included.”

I turned to her nervously as the orc pulled off the shawl and tried another, one of a dark black color. Bulak glanced away as if she suddenly realized what she said. She refused to meet my gaze as I watched her look towards the door. I finally sighed as I relented and turned to watch my reflection again. “I guess you have a point there,” I admitted, trying to encourage her. “I've accomplished feats that would possibly change some perspectives,” I hesitated for a moment then let out a growl as I remembered the angered looks I’d received walking over. “but there's still a lot of orcs that haven't changed. I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid that they’ll never change.”

Bulak turned to me, a look of sympathy on her face. She seemed about to say something when the front door was pushed open, causing a little bell to let out a small tinkle. She and I turned to the source as heavy boot steps approached the back room. Finally, the door was pushed open and Shurkul stepped through, metal poker resting on his shoulder. “Ah good, you are here.” He remarked, glancing between me and Bulak. “I wanted you to see what is going to mark you.” He then pulled the metal bar from his shoulder and showed me the other end. It was adorned with a series of bent and curved bars that formed a swirling butterfly pattern. The body itself was about as wide as my thumb and the wings that splayed out from the center were at least the width of two hands. Each wing was patterned with two swirls on the upper and lower wing, filling the space that would otherwise be empty. Meanwhile, the antennae ended in their own swirls, almost touching the wings in the process. I felt a pang of regret as I thought ifShel might like it. “It’s a butterfly. Of course she’d love it.”

I let out a sigh and nodded as Shurkul lowered the brand. “That's certainly impressive,” I remarked, fighting the knot of guilt that threatened to well up within me. I turned back to Bulak as I felt my eyelids dampen slightly. “I'm guessing this means it's almost time?” I asked, hoping this could be over quickly.

Bulak gave me a look of sympathy and shook her head. “There is still time before your ceremony,” She replied softly. “Your approval was the last affair to bring to order. You may collect yourself if you wish.” I sighed as I glanced back at the metal rod, rubbing my chest nervously. “What am I afraid of? Is it a misunderstanding? Am I uncertain of how the orcs will view me? The brand will only afford me the privileges they allow. If they despise me, it won’t do jack shit. If they knew more about me, they might be open to the idea.” I reached up and scratched my face as I closed my eyes and contemplated my feelings. “I could always ask for the ceremony to somehow be modified, make the orcs present more informed on why I fought. That won't do; it wouldn't help anyone after the ceremony in understanding my motivations. If I want them to understand, I need it to somehow stick out after the ceremony. The butterfly symbol is unorthodox, but there are still expectations of the kind of person a Champion is. I need to-”

I opened my eyes as my mind suddenly clicked and the pieces fell into place. I turned to Bulak with a deadly serious expression as the orc pulled the shawl off my shoulder again. “Can I make a change to the ceremony?” I asked, my nervousness dissipating.

Bulak tilted her head as she gave me a look of confusion. “It depends on the change. Unless you have a good reason for it, I cannot guarantee it will come to fruition.”

I nodded as I glanced at the brand again, my unease replaced by determination. “Don't worry, this is definitely a good reason.”

It took me a while to convince the others to go through with my plan; Shurkul specifically, considering he was tasked with applying said brand, but after a long-winded explanation he finally agreed to it. “If you are sure it will help you attain better footing with the other orcs and supposedly ‘preserve the honor' of the other Champions, I suppose I can comply with your request.”

I nodded as I turned to Bulak, her face contorted as she continued to consider my request. “You must be certain of this.” She warned. “This brand is not something that can be undone, not once the mages heal you and enchant the wound.”

I nodded determinedly as I glanced at the piece of metal. “It feels like the right thing, all else considered. I think I even have a speech planned out. Once everyone out there understands, that'll spread through the city and then Gashur. It'll be perfect to convince the rest of them to trust me.”

Bulak paused, then sighed, moving over to one of the dressers and opening a small drawer. “I would try to convince you to reconsider, but we run short on time. I doubt I could convince you to change your decision anyway. Now don your ceremonial shawl. Apply this to the area where you want the brand.”

She then turned and tossed a clear glass bottle over to me, sloshing about with a clear liquid. I caught it and examined the flask, the smell of alcohol radiated from the glass. “Anesthetics?” I guessed, looking up at Bulak. “Something to dull the pain?”

Bulak nodded as she walked back over. “It will not eliminate your pain entirely, but it will greatly reduce it.”

I nodded as I looked back at the flask, clear liquid continuing to sway as I examined it. Finally, I tossed the vial back to Bulak, unopened. “Bonus challenge, I'm going to do it without painkillers.”

Bulak looked at me skeptically as she caught the bottle. “Are you certain?” She asked. “This brand is by no means gentle. Champions used to go hoarse without this.”

I nodded as I started pulling off my shirt, discarding it to the floor as I explained. “If I'm going to make an impression, the emotions need to be real. You guys may be tribalistic, but empathy can override tribalism.” Bulak was about to protest again, but I stopped her. “Don't worry about me, I was stabbed several times and broke a few bones in the process. Compared to those, this'll be a cakewalk.”

Bulak paused again, considering my additional request. Finally, she sighed and returned the flask to the drawer. “Then I suppose you had better get ready; the ceremony will be starting soon.” I nodded as the tailer orc stepped forward and handed me one last shawl, the black one that I had worn earlier. I took it and draped it over my shoulders, letting the fur fall down my back as I glanced down at my denim-covered legs.

I looked up at Bulak as a thought occurred to me. “I hope the pants aren't going to be a problem,” I remarked. “I don't think I'm comfortable wearing a loincloth yet.”

Bulak chuckled slightly and shook her head in response. “That will not be a problem.” She replied. “You merely need the shawl for the ceremony. The rest is optional.”

I nodded as I glanced towards Shurkul. “How do I look?” I asked. “Anything I need to do before going out there?”

Shurkul looked me up and down for a minute, then shook his head. “I believe you have adequately prepared.” He then reached down and picked the brand back up. “I will await you on the platform.” I nodded as he turned and walked back out the door, footsteps rippling through the floor as he went. I let out a sigh and looked down slightly when I finally heard the bell marking Shurkul's egress. My heart was starting to pound in my chest as I considered the near future. “One more step. In for a penny, in for a pound.”

I glanced up at Bulak as I started to hear my heart in my ears. “What do you think?” I asked, spreading my arms out to show off the shawl. It covered my entire torso in its heavy embrace. “Would you look at someone like me and think, ‘Champion'?” I genuinely hope she liked it.

Bulak paused again, rubbing her lower lip with her thumb as she stared at me. She then took a step forward and placed a hand on my shoulder, causing my heart to go slightly faster. “I believe that all depends on you. If you present yourself as a Champion, they will believe you to be one, even if they despise you for it.”

I chuckled as I let out another breath of air as a familiar phrase waddled through my mind. “Fake it till you make it.” I then grinned as I looked up at Bulak. “Let's do this,” I said encouragingly.

Bulak grinned in response and nodded before letting go and leading me back towards the door. The smell of fresh fur was potent as we walked through the shop. The racks were weighed down by the fur as I was weighed down by mine. Finally, we reached the front door and we stepped back into the square. The noise of a crowd washing over me as we stepped back into the light. I looked around apprehensively at the orcs in the square. They were focused on the platform I saw earlier. Shurkul was currently standing on it, staring intently at the brazier in front of him. Bulak led me along the square and towards the platform as people turned to watch us. I ignored them and focused on following Bulak, the dark fur quickly heating up under the exposed sun, contrasting my exposed skin in the cool air. We finally climbed up the stairs and onto the platform, my eyes turning to the apparatus in the center. It was a chair-like structure, back angled out forty-five degrees and without arms. Bulak had explained it was meant to allow the subject to brace against the back without it looking like they were bracing. I followed her to the center and stopped when she stopped. Instinctively, I turned and stared out at the gathered crowd. Hundreds of eyes stared back, judging me. I let out another breath as I forced my back to straighten, looking out confidently at the orcs.

Bulak waited for a minute, eyes scanning the gathered crowd then addressed the crowd in a booming voice. “The Profession Of Warrior Is Hard To Obtain. To Receive The Title Of Champion During Your Profession Is Harder Still. Today, We Honor One That Has Manage Both In The Span Of A Few Weeks. One That Has Joined Our Ranks Under Unique Circumstances But Has Since Shown His Allegiance To The Tribe State Of Gashur. Today, We Honor Dexter As A Champion And Bestow Upon Him His Emblem Of Champions.” She then turned to the other side of the platform. I followed her lead as I felt a heavy foot make an impact on the platform. Dubak had stepped onto the stage, massive battle axe gripped tightly in his hand. He walked towards us, each footstep making another impact on the sturdy wood. I couldn’t help but swallow nervously as he loomed closer. Finally, he stopped and let the end of the grip fall and rest on the wood.

Dubak stared at me as he let the silence hang in the air, his eyes a mixture of hesitation of appreciation. Finally, he spoke in an equally reverberating voice, addressing me as well as the crowd around us. “Will You Serve This City And This Tribe To Defend Me And Those I Reside Over?”

I nodded and tried to mimic the speech voice but fell short as the butterflies threatened to escape me. “To The BeSt Of My Ability.” I stammered.

Dubak nodded reassuringly, giving me a sense of ease in the situation, before continuing his speech. “Will You Work To Improve The State Of The Tribe And Allow Us To Reach Greater Heights?”

I nodded again, swallowing as I did, determined to speak clearly. “To The Best Of My Ability,” I replied, this time voice unwavering.

Dubak nodded again as he continued. “And Will You Work To Preserve The Peace, Both Within These Walls And Without?”

I grinned briefly, the dawning of the reality of the situation finally coming into focus, and nodded again. “To The Best Of My Ability.” I beamed, grinning wide at the idea.

Dubak nodded and lifted his battle-axe again. He lowered it so that the flat of the blades barely touched each of my shoulders as he continued one last time. “Then I, Dubak Farod, Officially Declare You, Dexter, A Champion. You Shall Henceforth Hold The Title, Champion Of The Butterfly.” There was brief applause following that declaration, echoing around the square as a drumming sound joined the chorus. Upon that, Dubak gestured towards the chair. I complied and lifted the shawl off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as I stepped towards the structure. I knew I was supposed to sit back to back with it, but for my plan I straddled the seat, chest pressing into the back, allowing me to look out at the crowd. They seemed visibly confused as I folded my arms around the wood and pressed my knuckles together, bracing for the pain. I briefly heard movement behind me before a few whispers drifted over me. I couldn't hear the words they exchanged, but I wasn't told to change positions. After another minute I heard the shifting of wood and a puff of embers floated out from just beyond my vision. I felt my pulse quicken and sweat start to sprinkle my back as I sensed an increase in heat just behind me. I gritted my teeth as the anticipation hung in the air.

The wait was agony. Time almost seemed to slow as I sat there, ready for the branding that was to occur. I had one more minute to wait, but it felt like an hour before I finally felt something red hot pressing into my back, causing an overwhelming wave of pain wash over me. I yelped before gritting my teeth and letting out a pained groan as I felt Shurkul press the brand into my back. My muscles tensed and I heard several of my joints let out a low pop. It was like an inferno was tap dancing across my body. The pain came in wave after wave and didn't let up for a second. The brand was held there for what felt like several minutes as the smell of burning flesh filled the air. I tried not to give too much thought to that, only fought desperately to stay still as the brand did its job. Sweat poured down my face as I began to pant heavily. My stomach churned angrily from the pain, threatening to void my breakfast if the pain didn’t stop soon. Finally, I felt Shurkul release me and I let my head fall forward, sweat dripping down as I panted. Despite the dew on my face, my mouth felt dry and I swear I could taste a bit of acid from my stomach. I took a minute to compose myself, letting the ebb and subside before I finally straightened and stood up from the chair. I staggered for a moment, my legs protesting at the sudden decision to stand after the event of firey pain on my back.

I swallowed the protested and stood straight to address the crowd in front of me. I felt more drops of sweat drip down my body, despite the cool air, as I panted for a few more minutes. I sighed as I let my mind clear. I had no speech planned out, though I wish I did. Maybe then I could be more sure of what to say next. This moment though, I decided to speak from the heart. If nothing else, the orcs would listen to what my heart has to say. Finally, I started my speech, voice carrying as much of a boom as I could muster. “I Did Not Join You Under Normal Circumstances.” I began, trying to capture the same power and authority that Bulak and Dubak had before. “I Was Torn From My Own And Thrust Into This One. During My Stay Here I Have Learned Of The Hardships And Conflicts You Face On A Daily Basis. Since Then, I Have Grown To Care For This Place I Now Call Home And The People That Reside Here, Though I Miss My Own Home Dearly. In The Course Of These Events, There Are Those That Lost Their Lives, Despite The Efforts Of All Here. I Have Since Chosen To Join The Fight In Their Protection; So That All Those Here Will Not Repeat The Deaths Of Those Lost. That Is Why I Have Chosen To Move My Champion's Brand; To Remind Myself And Those Around Me Why I Fight; Not For War, Or Glory, Or Fame, But For Those That Cannot Fight For Themselves.”

I then raised each hand as I continued. “In My Right Hand, I Will Carry My Sword Into Battle, To Slay Those That Would Do Them Harm. In My Left Hand, I Will Carry My Shield; So That Even If My Sword Breaks I Will Be Able To Defend The Innocent And Protect Them From Harm. That Is Why I Fight And That Is Why I Shall Continue To Fight For Those That Cannot.” I then turned around to display the mark, seeing the look of suspicion on Dubak's face and the grin currently gracing Bulak's. I then raised my left hand triumphantly, fingers clenched into a fist, and shouted equally defiantly. “FOR THE PEOPLE OF GASHUR!” A new wave of applause radiated from the crowd behind me, much louder than before, echoing around the square as I finally let out a relaxed breath. I had won them over. They would know my intentions. I grinned slightly, briefly forgetting the pain currently radiating throughout my body. I finally let my arm fall back to my side as Dubak gestured me forward. I complied as I noticed the tailor orc stepping up onto a platform, carrying a white skin covered in dark spots.

Dubak turned to him and took the skin. “Thank you, Nildud.” Dubak voiced. He then turned and presented the fur to me as I felt another wave of agony wash over me. “Your shawl.” He explained.

I nodded as I took the fur, draping it over my arm. “I don't think I can take any pressure there right now,” I explained quietly, doing my best not to move my back.

Dubak nodded as he gestured towards the end of the platform. “A mage will be with you shortly. Go and rest back at your abode. I imagine you have much to think about.” I nodded as I started shuffling towards the end, the brand making it difficult to concentrate on movement.

I felt Bulak's hand on my shoulder as she began helping me down from the platform. “Allow me.” She said softly, doing her best to avoid agitating the mark on my back. I nodded as she began leading me back to the barn, being careful not to touch the extremely sensitive burn mark currently sizzling on my back. I suddenly felt a softer hand on my other shoulder and I turned to see Amelia wincing beside me.

She grinned as she saw my expression of pain and exhaustion. “That was very inspiring.” She said encouragingly. “I doubt there was a better way you could have put that.” I chuckled and nodded then stumbled slightly as another wave of pain washed over me. “This is going to be one painful hour.” I thought as we started climbing the hill.

I finally stumbled weakly into the barn, sweat practically flowing from my face now. Amelia rushed ahead and cleared a few things off the nearest table. Bulak helped me limp over as another wave of pain radiated from the brand. I laid on the table as I felt more beads of sweat drip from my body. I folded my arms in front of me and buried my head in them as I felt more pain wash over me. “It looks good,” Amelia said encouragingly, lightly touching the skin around the brand. “I don't suppose you have any aloe in the car?”

I let out a groan as I shook my head. “Not really something you need in a city like Atlanta,” I grunted, holding back the pain as best I could. “I was lucky to have what I did when I came here. Right now, I'm wishing I brought some painkillers.”

I felt another hand on my other shoulder and I turned to see Bulak's comforting smile stare back at me. “That was the purpose of the bottle.” She said, half laughing.

I let out a laugh of my own as I cradled my head in my arms again. “And here I was thinking it would be badass to forgo said bottle,” I said jokingly. I let out a grunt as another wave of pain wash over me. My entire left side felt like it was burning. “For now, I think I'm just going to wait this out. I doubt that bottle would do anything now but worsen the pain.” I heard silence, then two pairs of footprints walking away followed by the shifting of weight onto a chair. The other set of footprints continued briefly before the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor filled the barn. I looked up in time to see Bulak sitting down in a chair in front of me. I grinned slightly as I let my head rest on my hands and stared at her. “This is good too,” I whispered. Bulak grinned in kind as she folded her arms in front of her chest and crossed her legs. I sighed as I sat there silently, enjoying the company amidst the pain. Somewhere out of my field of vision, I heard Amelia mutter something about a camera.

It took another half an hour for the mage to arrive. He spent only a minute on my wound, the pain vanishing quickly as he worked, before angling up a mirror for me to see. “This would have been easier had it been on your chest.” He muttered.

I nodded as I stared at the brand, the darkened and raised skin proudly displaying the swirling emblem I'd chosen. The butterfly's antennae were angled towards my shoulder, centered just to the left of my heart. It looked as if a large butterfly had landed on my shoulder blade. “To be fair, I came up with the idea only a few hours before the ceremony,” I said, unphased by the mage’s muttering. “I didn't go down there expecting to have my back branded. I probably messed up a few of my back muscles in the process.”

The orc shrugged as he put the mirror away and finished packing up. “In any case, you are now a Champion. Understand that much will be expected of you because of this. You may even be asked to resolve some petty squabble between two individuals. In that case, your word will hold the same power as the chief, within reason.”

I nodded as I turned and sat up. Muscles glad to be moving again. I turned to the orc as he started walking towards the door. “You won't have to worry. I'll make sure to help out whenever I can.”

The orc continued walking as he waved goodbye. “The people will expect it.” He warned before walking out the door. I nodded as I dropped down from the table and reached for another shirt.

Bulak stepped beside me as I pulled the fabric over my head. “What now?” She asked, concerned. “Will you go see my uncle?”

I thought about it for a second then shook my head as I flattened the cloth across my chest. “It's too soon for that; I don't even have a weapon yet. If I want him to help me, I'm going to need something he'll be impressed with. No, right now I'm going to finish the autoclave and get ready for my classes. I'll probably come up with something in the next month or so.” I then grabbed my backpack and sighed as I stared at the door. “For right now, I need some more sap.” I then quickly wrapped my arm around Bulak in a quick hug then began walking towards the door, waving goodbye to Bulak as I did so. “I'll see you later,” I called. Bulak grinned warmly and waved in kind as I stepped out the door and towards Mabel's clearing.

I stepped through the archway again as I felt the fabric rub on my wound. It had rubbed all the way here and I still wasn’t used to the feeling of it. I looked around as I noticed the milkweeds were absent from the center. The animals took no notice of me as I walked forward, looking around skeptically. “Mabel?” I called out. The air held a palpable silence as I got closer to the center. I looked down at where the milkweeds had been earlier, grass still stained with the latex sap that dripped from their stems. I looked around as I called out again. “Mabel?” I called loudly. Still nothing. I looked around at the animals. They munched lazily and still ignored me. I called out one last time. “MABEL?” This bellow finally got a response. I felt something pounce on my back, pushing me forward slightly. I instinctively responded by reaching up and behind me to grab whatever was clinging to my back. I grabbed a large tangled mass and pulled it forward, bending over as I did so and causing the figure to flip over me and land with a large wham on the ground in front of me. I pulled my fist back to strike but stopped as I saw Mabel's laughing form grinning up at me. “Shit, Mabel. Don't scare me like that.” I unclenched my fist and offered my hand.

She took it and I hauled her up as she continued laughing. “Apologies; I saw an opportunity to test you again and I just could not resist.”

I let out a sigh as I rubbed my head. “Just don't do that often. I don't need a heart attack every time I come down here for sap.” Mabel nodded as she gestured at the ground. Another dozen tendrils sprouted from the ground and carried more clay jars. Mabel had one of them hand a jar to me as the rest laid theirs on the ground. I took the jar and slipped it into my backpack as I stared at the collection of jars before me. “That's a lot of sap,” I remarked.

Mabel nodded happily as she grinned at them. “It only took a day to harvest. I am now certain I overdid it when it comes to my modifications.” The way she said that made me think she wasn’t regretting the decision.

I nodded as I glanced at the now empty patch of grass. “I'm assuming the milkweeds are now somewhere in the forest.”

Mabel nodded as I knelt and began packing the jars into my pack. “They were starting to become an eyesore, so I moved them.” She replied, kneeling next to me. She watched me carefully set jar after jar in my bag. I hadn’t noticed at first, but she was giving me a strange look. Suddenly, she reached over and lifted the back of my shirt, exposing my brand to the forest air. “When did you get this?” She asked curiously, rubbing one of the swirling wings.

I let out a small laugh as I set the last jar into my pack. “To be honest, not three hours ago. It's just one of the great things about being Champion.”

Mabel gasped as she suddenly let my shirt fall again. “A Champion?” She asked, amazed. “That is certainly a high honor, especially among the orcs. I suppose it must come with many privileges if your burn looks like that.”

I chuckled again and nodded. “It's actually how they mark their Champions; that way there can't be people laying false claims.”

Mabel raised her eyebrows higher. “That is how they honor them? I knew the orcs were primitive, I didn't know they were barbaric.”

I shrugged at that remark. “To be honest, it's not that bad. Modern human cultures have a similar tradition, though this is definitely not part of my culture. The only reason it's healed right now is because of the aftercare they provided. Magic is really useful when you know how to use it.”

Mabel paused, then shrugged as we stood and I set the pack back onto my shoulders. “I suppose you have a point. Magic is certainly a useful tool. It is a shame that not everyone can use it.”

I nodded as I glanced towards the tree line. “That seems to be the way of things.” I agreed. “Anyway, I should get back home. I still have an autoclave to finish.” Mabel nodded as she waved me off and I started making my way back to the barn. “Quartz production, here I come.”