Savages

                   Savages

         It was a fierce battle that had been raging on for days now. The orcs surprised them almost a week ago and took the first half of the fortress. Now there were no more borders to defend or attack. No matter where you went the sound of steel clashing and arrows striking flesh was present, like a horrid nightmare you could not escape. There was no time for sleep anymore; if either side slept too long they would fall.
         Underneath the battle, the orcs found an entrance into the catacombs of the fortress that ran deep into the earth like an endless labyrinth. In defense a human battalion charged headfirst into the dark catacombs. Only a day into the battle human and orcs forces had scattered throughout the maze, and it had changed from a massive assault, into an individual's fight for survival.
         One human had been alone for days now; his sword had broken, and he had taken an axe soaked in dry blood from one of the orcs he had killed earlier. His studded tunic was worn and bared scars from many close encounters. His long red hair, once tied into a ponytail, was now undone and stained with streaks of blood. His eyes were heavy with pitch black bags from lack of sleep. They carried the terrifying memories of battles that plagued his mind.
         It had been almost two days since he had seen another human. For all he knew, he was the last man in this fort, and the orcs had already taken it. Perhaps the orcs had left in the catacombs below to wander like a ghost of the past. He felt his legs growing heavier, and his own sweat began to weigh down his clothing until he was forced to sit against the wall to rest for a moment, but still he remained alert. The human wiped the sweat from his forehead and hesitantly began to take a quick nap in a position that made him look dead.
         Just as he was about to let sleep take hold of his mind, he heard a footstep down the hall. It was heavy, and slow, almost vibrating the ground; it was either a giant of a human, or an orc. He stood and readied his massive orc-sized axe; the monster would turn the corner any second now.
The orc quickly spotted the man as he turned the corner. The orc hesitantly reached for his mace, but as he began to wrap his hand around it and declare an instant hostility, he stopped, and began to think for a bit. His muscles were sore from countless battles, and his hand ached from many swings of his mace. Instead of mindlessly charging into one more battle, the orc boldly held his empty hand in the air as an attempt to declare a brief peace.
         The man lowered his weapons at the sight of the orc, he couldn't quite figure out what to do, every part of his being screamed for him to charge the orc while his weapon was down. However, a little voice deep inside the human's mind began to speak to him, telling him not to attack, and to drop his weapon as well. Putting his entire existence at risk, the man sheathed his axe, and hesitantly walked towards the orc.
         The orc followed the man's example, and in a timeless moment, the two approached each other, each attempting to read the others thoughts. They searched each others' eyes, looking for the slightest reason to strike down the other. No battle that either of them saw had ever been as tense as this. The moment of truth arrived as each of them came face to face with each other, waiting for the other to make some sort of move. Finally, the orc spoke in a low musical voice. "I'm tired, and I know you are too... Before we fight, let's sit down for a moment..."
The man stood shocked at the words he had just heard, he had never heard an orc talk before. Until coming face to face with an orc, they had always looked like nothing more then generic enemies he had to kill. The orc held up his hand as to shake the humans, and said "Zar-kil". The human was dumb-founded for a second, but that tiny voice in the back of his head grew, and told him to shake the orc's hand. "Aaron..." he said, and then shook the orc's giant hand. Zar-kil was about a head taller than Aaron, but not quite as muscular as most orcs Aaron had encountered. His face was rugged and stern, but he had soft eyes that bore no hint of hostility for the moment.
         The two of them finally sat against the wall together, both felt awkward at the thought of being only inches from the enemy. These feelings were easily overcome with a sense of relief that each had a moment to rest before one of them would have to die. They could still hear the distant sound of swords clashing above, but it was distant enough for them to rest in relative ease.
         "I've never heard an orc talk before..." Aaron finally broke the silence
         "I've never talked to a human..." Zar-kil answered.
         "Yeah..." Aaron said shutting his eyes. He trusted Zar-kil already, he didn't know why, but his soft eyes drained all fear from Aaron's body. He looked over at Zar-kil and saw a human sized dagger sheathed at his side. Aaron's heart seemed to stop, seeing it reminded Aaron that Zar-kil had to kill a human to get it, and that this orc was still his enemy. Zar-kil saw that Aaron had spotted it, and leaving it sheathed, showed the weapon to Aaron.
         "This dagger belonged to your second in command, I'm sorry I killed him, but I'm sure you understand. It's a gift for my son; he wanted me to bring a human weapon home to him." Zar-kil said.
         Aaron thought for a second, ‘His son... He has a family too then?' Aaron began to think about his family, and about what would happen if he died. He couldn't bare the thought of his wife and children being alone. He knew Zar-kil probably felt the same way, and he began to think about every other orc he had killed in this battle. For so long Aaron had seen the orcs as nothing but savages, and would kill them without hesitation. This was the first time he ever began to really think about what he had been doing. "Why are we even in a war?" Zar-kil asked "Our kind has been fighting yours for so long no one can even recall how it began..."
         Aaron dove deep into his own mind to try and find an answer, but he couldn't. He listened to the voice in his head that told him to make peace, the voice that overcame the greater voice telling him to kill the orc. That's what he always did at the sight of an orc - kill. At this thought, the answer to Zar-kil's question had thrown itself to the front of Aarons mind. "We're all savages I guess..."  Aaron darkly said, "We like to think you're savages, we like to think you're monsters... What do you think of us?"
         "The same, I was always taught you were monsters." Zar-kil answered.
         "I suppose we are..."  Aaron said, "I've killed at least 30 orcs in this battle..."
         "Don't worry; I've easily killed as many humans..." Zar-kil said.
         "Savages..." Aaron said to himself, "I guess our world is filled with them..."
         "Yeah, savages killing each other..." Zar-kil said standing up, "Well... We're still enemies; I guess one of us will have to die..."
         "Good luck then." Aaron said as he readied his weapon.
         "And you too..."

         Returning home after the words Zar-kil printed into Aaron's mind was a bitter victory. He could recall stepping back into his house for the first time in over a year. He could recall the look on his wife's face as he first walked in the door; and the little arms of his children that wrapped around his legs when they saw for the first time in what felt like forever.
He was sitting at his table, listening to his 10-year-old son shower him with questions about the battles he'd seen, and he couldn't stop thinking about what Zar-kil's family must be going through. For every solder that went home another family would be torn asunder. The thought of a funeral taking place the very day his family was celebrating his return was nearly too hard to hide.
         "Did you kill any orcs daddy?" He asked.
         Aaron put on a fake smile and answered his son, "Yeah, lots of them."
         "I'll bet they tried real hard to kill you! But you were too tough for them, weren't you!" His son cheered.
         Aaron looked down and into his son's bright, innocent eyes that gave him just enough strength to answer, "Yeah, and hey, I got a gift for you..." he said as he pulled out the dagger that Zar-kil had shown him.
         "Wow! Did you take that from the savages?" He brightly asked.
         Aaron felt a deep cry jump into his throat, but barely subdued it, still, one tear formed in his eye long enough to manifest itself and fall onto the floor. "No" he said, "I got it from a good friend."