Orc Lord

Varoon felt his heart beating fast, but due to anxiety, not excitement. For a moment, he genuinely thought that having a successful daughter and living a peaceful life had caused his mother to mellow out. In fact, maybe it had. But no matter how relaxed and happy she was at the moment, Oolga was a warrior. She was a woman strong enough to force the strongest chief to mate with her. Varoon couldn't believe that he wouldn't be scolded at all for his weakness.

He was even more sure of it, knowing that his precious little sister wouldn't be around to witness it.

After dinner was over, Varoon reluctantly followed his mother to the chief's hut.

“I'll wait outside until you two have caught up,” Irsha rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly.

No, I wish you would come, he thought helplessly.

Once inside the chief's hut, Oolga hung a leather curtain in front of the entrance, for privacy, and removed the covering that had been set down to block a glittering light spell.

Nobody said anything, and Varoon shifted uncomfortably in place, kicking the ground and wringing his hands. “Momma, are you,” he looked up nervously, “really not mad at me?”

Oolga looked over her shoulder at him. There was no easygoing smile on her face. Her eyes which were normally squinted into friendly crescents were fully open and staring at him without compassion.

“I'm not mad, Varoon, because I never expected anything from you in the first place. Running off to become a War Orc was your own decision. I never particularly wanted it.”

Varoon felt his heart sink. This cold and calculative warrior was the mother he remembered.

“Are you at least happy that I found a strong mate?” Varoon tried to keep his throat from choking up.

“Well, you did fairly well in that aspect. Or rather, that woman’s standards might be too low.”

Varoon gritted his teeth, his eyes feeling hot.

“Why are you putting up a nice act in front of her?”

“Nice act? I'm not acting at all. I can't help but feel more like a satisfied grandmother than a mom when I see my precious baby.” She pulled in a deep breath through her snout and sighed contentedly. “All my troubles just seem to wash away.”

Varoon glared coldly and asked in a deadpan voice, “You didn't really want to talk to me alone so we could catch up, did you?”

“Of course not,” Oolga shook her head. “I have something important to tell you that absolutely must not leave this room.”

Varoon, influenced by his feelings of worthlessness, wondered why she would even bother to tell him something so important.

“I won't tell anyone,” Varoon promised regardless.

“Do you remember the first I received? I told it to you before your father was replaced as chief.”

Tears welled up in Varoon’s eyes. “I remember.”

“Say it,” she demanded.

Varoon’s lip quivered and kept him from speaking for a moment. He took a shaky breath. ““Mate with the strongest Orc, and you will conceive the Orc Lord.””

Oolga nodded, her eyes shining with something between motherly love and madness.

“Well, after I found the correct Orc to mate with, I received the second of my life: “In one hundred twenty days, you will give birth to the Orc Lord.” There is no doubt. And the arrival of my precious baby Vyra can mean only one thing.” Oolga’s face hadn't broken out into a bloodthirsty grin since she left the hunting grounds, but it did so now. “The Orc Race is soon to face destruction. Hehehe. It's been awhile since I participated in a large scale battle. I'm eager to see how my new magic will change the field.”

Varoon shivered where he stood. Of course, someone like his mother could never fully embrace a blissful, peaceful life. It may be a real part of her that desired it, but the other part craved battle.

Swallowing the saliva in his mouth, Varoon worked himself up to ask something he had always wondered.

“Momma,” his throat got caught when her bloodthirsty eyes found him, but he recovered. “Why didn't you evolve into a War Orc?”

“Huh?” She frowned at him. “I certainly taught you about the Four Aspects of Sapient Beings. If I didn't evolve into something or other it's because my Soul didn't match.”

“But,” Varoon was unwilling to yield on this, “you're even more battle hungry than most of the War Orcs I know. It just doesn't make sense to me.”

“Heh,” Oolga grinned. “Well, you would notice after living in a place like that, wouldn't you? In truth, a proper Race didn't exist to suit my soul. The spirits gave me some ridiculous number for a completion time. It's been three years, but still nothing.”

“Should it take so long?!”

Oolga smiled wryly. “I also thought it was excessive. Until I thought, what if it’s missing a piece?”

“That,” Varoon tilted his head slightly and flicked his ears. “What could it be missing?”

She raised one three-fingered hand and conjured a flame over it. “The elemental attribute is also part of the Soul’s domain. I went my whole life without developing mine. I started to wonder if the Race matching my soul necessitated a certain level of competency with magic.” She crushed the flame in her hand, a determined gleam in her eyes. “I'm certain, if I can reach second level Magic caster, I’ll have all the pieces in place.”

Varoon’s knees felt weak. His mother hadn't given up the pursuit of strength at all. Underneath everyone’s noses, she was growing ever more powerful. And all for the sake of--he swallowed back the pain he felt--for the sake of his little sister; the only child she’d actually wanted to have.

***

[[New Race Model has been created. Assigning to user… success. User’s Race has advanced from to .]]

[[Conditions met. Advance in Race designation has changed the user’s stats. Strength up, Intelligence up, Courage up, Willpower up, Toughness up.]]

I woke up feeling a little off that morning. Maybe it's because I slept crammed in between stacks of tablets. Fiara must have stayed up late writing or researching, because she still looks dead asleep.

Lying there, curled up in her nest-bed. I see that the thin leather covering she usually drapes over her head has shifted away a bit. There’s about three inches of thick brown hair growing on her head.

… I'm jealous. I thought Wisdom Orcs just didn't have hair, like regular Orcs, but it looks like it has to grow in naturally after the evolution.

There’s nothing particularly bad about being bald, but I still want hair.

I shift my body to stand up, thinking that I'd better wake Fiara, but something collides with my waist. I can feel activate, so it must have hurt. Then a stack of tablets collapses around me.

Obviously I'm not hurt. I'm just stunned and confused by the loud noise and unexpected situation.

The loud sound wakes Fiara, and she panics upon seeing the fallen tablets. I know that look. That's the look of someone who just dropped their cellphone and is desperately hoping it isn't broken. Still, she controls herself and calls out to me first.

“Chief, are you okay?!”

“I'm fine,” I answered back. I'm just confused is all.

I pushed the various stone tablets off of me and stood up. No. I tried to stand up, but something pulled me down by my waist and I tipped back over. Fiara sucked in a lungful of air when I landed on her tablets. They won't break that easily, so relax.

“Chief, is your new form difficult to stand in?” she asked with concern.

New form? What is she talking about?

I look down to figure out what keeps holding onto me, and I find some thick growth coming out from my waist, covered in tannish-white feathers. I don't understand.

I reach down and touch it gingerly with my hand, and find that it's warm. I squeeze it a bit, and I poke at where it joins my waist, and there doesn't seem to be any pain. I grab the lump with both hands and tug on it to bring the end out from under the tablets.

Isn't this a wing? I investigate and find one on the other side too. Each one is about six feet long, and about three feet wide if I pull it open to full size. They’re heavy. With both of them combined, I think I've doubled my weight. They were numb when I first woke up, but the feeling is starting to come as I play with them.

Also, I couldn't help but notice when I brought my hands down that they have five fingers… and tan skin…

Did I evolve?

Spirits, what Race am I?

[[Information is accessible. User’s Race is designated as a .]]

A Dominance Orc…

I dig my feet out of the mess to examine them. They aren't hooves anymore, but actual feet, like a Human’s. I warn myself not to be too hopeful, and lift my hands up to my face.

It isn't quite Human yet. My skull and jaw structure seem much more Human now, but I still have small tusks, and floppy triangle pig ears. My eyes are bigger and less beady, and I no longer have a snout, but my nose still turns up completely at the tip. I guess it's a mini-snout.

I'm still bald, but maybe hair will grow if I wait?

More importantly is if I can even use this new body. It has huge and heavy wings attached that concern me.

“Fiara, I evolved,” I say in a dumbfounded voice.

“Yes, chief,” she said tensely. “Here, let me move a few things so you can have some space to work in.”

So she said, but she’s clearly just trying to save her tablets out from under me. Since it's difficult to move, and I'd probably just make a mess if I tried, I just wait patiently for her to be done.

When I have some room, I stay sitting on the floor where I am and try to lift my wings with their own power. It feels really strange the way they connect. I think part of my pelvis was extended up a bit at the sides and hollowed out to make two new bone sockets. The main bone of my wings fits into there. Muscles from my back, abdomen, hips, and legs all seem to stretch and weave into them at the base. It seems my lower body will provide the main power when I want to flap them.

I managed to raise them, but it seems there’s a joint in the middle, so they just turned into inverted “V” shapes.

A new body part… is going to take a lot of practice, isn't it? Because of their location and how the muscles feel, instead of like having a new pair of arms, it's like I have a new pair of legs. A pair of legs that grow out from my hips.

To keep myself from falling down, I get on my hands and knees and slowly stand up. If I balance myself right, the weight from my wings actually helps keep me grounded. It feels stable.

But then I had an accidental muscle spasm and folded one of my wings up. Of course I fell down.

Getting back up again, I tried to take a step. As expected, if I do it with my wings dragging on the ground, I'll fall over. I'm starting to get pissed off.

“Is it that difficult?” Fiara asked from the side.

“Yes!” I said back. “These things are heavy, and I don't know how to move them well yet.”

I'm not having any problems controlling my hands and feet. Maybe it's because I've had them before.

As I move around more, the numb muscles on the far sides of my wings start to wake up. I gradually gain more control of how they move. I test the rotation, and they're about as flexible as my legs are at the joints. They really feel like huge legs growing from my hips. I can't find any better description for this feeling.

My immediate concern is walking. My center of gravity has become volatile thanks to growing an extra hundred pounds of wing from each hip. Is it even possible to fly with these? Wouldn't I just tip over?

I don't really want to be in public looking like an injured bird, but there’s not enough room in Fiara’s house for me to adjust to this new body. It's good that there’s still no lessons this morning. I'm going to need some time to adjust.