Kara was never a warrior but always a fighter. She was never a shaman and quite resistant to wisdom. Never was she a hunter, yet she had fought against the greatest of prey. So did her Grandfather. So did her Mother as she finally embraced her child once more. So did her father and her aunt. So did all of their kind when they broke the chains and ended the fight that had begun before the first of them could walk.

  The dead had fought alongside the living and all songs of orckind would remember this day. When the Dragon fell and the snake was slain.

  After their fight in the windhall Bruna wasn’t granted a moment to understand his new position. It was never his plan to become Khan, not since he was a boy, he only sought to slay the man that had brought doom over them all. And so he did. Aru’Gal was dead and the riders waited for his command. The wind was touching his face and drew lines of ash over his cheek. He looked around and grunted. “The caves are collapsed, villages are buried under snow. Aid them.” He uttered and the first flew off. He knew they would try and find their own families first. He would have done the same. “And bring me the Chieftain.” He commanded Ur’Back. After he punched his chest once more the Watcher flew off too.

  He looked over to Sha’Raph without her mask. It took him a moment. Before he spoke again. “I feel that your path leads you away from us.”

  “So it does.” She answered. Her face remained cold while it was touched by wind and ash. “My own clan must have faced just as much peril, I must aid them.” She continued before she punched her chest. “My Khan.”

  “Go then.” He answered and punched his own chest before he looked at Raila and his sister. “We will go down and aid where we can. You can heal, we are strong. Let us find as many as we can.”

  Mara nodded and Raila punched her own chest before she rushed down the path from the windhall and to the caves. Bruna and Mara looked at each other a moment longer, but even now there was still no time for words. So they followed.

  Sha’Raph remained motionless up in the hall. Sir Raimond was about to speak just when she took small steps towards Aru’Gal’s corpse. Once next to him she kneeled down. The fire in his eyes was gone and his face frozen in his last struggles. She took her glove off and touched his cheek. With closed eyes she huffed. “Fool…” she whispered and felt tears started to run down her cheek. She huffed and took her mask back on, then her glove. “We will help my clan. Then fly to yours.” She told Raimond in her broken human tongue and saddled Dustfang once more.

  He only nodded. This was not his place to speak. And soon they flew off and away, together with the breeze of ash to the grey dunes.

  There was no rest over the night. Riders and clansmen did their best to free their kin from the caves and the snow. As expected the caves had taken more lifes than the avalanches and there bodies were piled up outside.

  To the surprise of the clan greenskins and Ogres started to aid the outer villages. Their steps were careful at first, and both had their weapons ready for each other. Yet they had all witnessed the song and the battle and knew, at least this day, they were brothers.

  Third-Fist commanded the Ogres to aid just the same. Thick-Skin, even though uneasiest among their old enemies of the north, had given the order as high chieftain to aid the Frostsong. And so they did.

  Kazzok and Rika held their eyes out for Mara, yet over the night she wasn’t found. She was with her brother and others inside the mountain and freed as many as they could. Soon she was one of many healers that tried and mended everyone they found. The dead were carried outside with the stones and brought down into the valley. There were no cries of joy or sorrow, for the dead had fallen in battle to the Dragon. Slowly they were gathered until they formed a hill of themselves. A mountain of corpses from the caves and a hill from the villages. Once morning arrived they set fire to them, right next to the dragon’s gigantic corpse. And yet their ashes went higher than the dragon’s ever would. They were burned in tradition of their clan and their people and went on to the last of all battles. While the dragon, would be meat and scales, and bones. It would be harvested as soon as the pyres were done. Once the sun would go again.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Even with his gaze on the Dragon and the fires before him, Bruna didn’t allow his heart to feel victory. Not for the dead, but because he had caused it. The Dragon was forced to action by Aru’Gal and his plans with the scroll. And it had been Bruna in his exile who brought it to him. He thought back to the coward he had slain back in the ashen plains not that long ago. How he had taken the scroll and his tomahawks off him to be a loyal rider. Loyal to a snake.

  He huffed a sigh away for he remembered the days when Aru’Gal was not spitting poison. He was a leader once, despite his lack of height or muscle. When he spoke, they were listening. Now they called him Khan, and he would have to do the same. Without poison, only with heart.

  Among the mountain of the dead burning in a grand pyre before him, Gor’Mash was laid to rest. He wished he could have thanked him, but knew he would see Darkscale again once their ashes were one beyond the horizon.

  Mara was not far from Bruna who stood alone inside a crowd, watching the fires. He held Defiance before him and Darkscale’s remains were still on his back. He looked so similar to their father now. She still felt guilt cursing through her heart. About Kara, about her betrayal about everything they had ever done to each other. Slowly she took steps towards him.

  He didn’t turn when he heard her feet in the snow. A sound that was almost muffled by the cackling pyre’s before them. In silence she went next to him.

  Neither of them wanted to break the silence. Finally Mara said without emotions. “My Khan…”

  “Don’t say that..” He uttered. She sighed and another long silence followed. This time he broke it again. “I shouldn’t wear this title…” He shook his head while his eyes remained on the pyres. “I brought this over us…” He struggled to speak further but did after a deep breath. “Over her..”

  Mara took her eyes from the pyres to him. She saw the sorrow that would always remain part of his heart. It echoed into her own. “Maybe it is not a reward, but a redemption.”

  He huffed. “What redemption can there be for a father unable to protect..?”

  She looked down and back to the pyres. Her words were chosen with care. “You heard her too didn’t you?”

  Finally his eyes went over to meet hers, even if only for a second. He nodded and his words came close to a whisper. “I did..”

  “She is waiting for us.” She said as both aunt and shaman. “But we must live and earn our place next to her.”

  “I will.” He declared plainly.

  Silence followed again.

  Both of them had a thousand words racing in their minds yet it was the Khan who mangled them together first. “I left you alone with her…I won’t do so again. Even as Khan I will be here and watch you. I won~”

  “No.” She broke through his words. “Bruna…I’m not a child. And I’m not her..far from it I say.” She had to chuckle at the last words and even he formed a hint of a smile. Then her eyes caught his and she spoke further. “There are many dangers behind the horizons of the west, and you will have to protect far more than me. I..” She struggled and looked away but took his hand. Once she did she looked up. “I’m proud to be your sister.”

  His heart sank but he wouldn’t allow himself to cry. Instead he nodded a few times. “I’m…” he had to fight much harder than her to speak his words. “I’m glad to be your brother..”

  She allowed the tears to float and without much warning embraced him in a hug. He couldn’t fight his own much longer and answered her just the same. For once they were close and even though they would fight again, they would always be at each other's back. The son and daughter of Ara’Gash the mountain. The Shaman and the Khan. The Heirs of his Hatred.