During the last year of her six years surviving with only herself and her furry companions, Marasia had stumbled across a small group of orcs, creatures similar to man, but with green skin and differing physical traits, such as pointed ears, and sharp tusk-like teeth.
The orcs she came across, inhabited the forests at the farthest peak against the ocean, a land far from human settlements where they could live in relative peace.
Having never seen another race with such pale skin, the orcs were cautious, unlike her.
She grinned a maniacal grin as a thought came to her mind, which frightened the orcs. They backed away slowly, before bolting away. Foolish they were, having led her to their village.
Seasons later, the lives of the orcs changed drastically, but not all for the worse.
A lowly farmer brings a gathering of food into the center of the village. He falls to the ground on his knees, taking out one single fruit from the sack he carried on his back, and holding it out.
"Mistress... Here is, the, harvest."
Before him was the largest home in the village, made of mud, sticks, and animal hide; the home of the clan's chieftain, Marasia. She sat with her legs crossed, and with a demeanor of a callus leader. It was as if she were mimicking her master, looking down on the orc with a bored and cold expression.
"Bring it."
They both spoke in common, Marasia's first language that she forced the orcs to adopt, but yet they had not managed to fully grasp the tongue fluently.
The orc, still on both knees and holding up the fruit, crawled toward her. She reached out and took the fruit from his calloused and dirt-covered hands, splitting it open with ease.
It resembled a melon, a bit larger than her hand, and its red insides were both meaty and juicy, with a single large seed buried in the center.
The rest of the orc villagers stood on the sidelines, quietly watching as she tasted the fruit.
"It is acceptable."
Her words made him sigh in relief. "Thank you, mistress."
"It is not me you should be thanking, it is our lord." She raised up her hands as if in awe of the heavens. "Our god! The one who blesses us with this food! If not for him, you would still struggle to eat! Praise him!" Her eyes lay upon the orcs as if demanding them.
Be it man, woman, or child, they all knelt before her, chanting: "Thank you, lord and master!"
It could be said that the power and influence were going to her head, but her loyalties remained strong, or better said, her love and infatuation.
Alone and in the dark confines of her enclosure, she would pleasure herself to the mere recollection of her lord. She dreamt vigorously of the day she would stand by his side, and wept at the horrendous thought of never seeing him again.
She erected an altar to him at which she prayed, kneeling as low as she could, her chest flat against the wooden floor, and her arms splayed straight and ahead of her. She had done so numerous times every day, for months. She had never received a response in return, until a whisper... "Marasia."
She jolted in shock, uttering through a heartfelt gasp of air. "Master..."
By now, it was the nearing night and she had was still stark naked, but she was unable to hold back her excitement, rushing outside to shout to all of the orcs.
"He is coming!! The lord is coming!!"
The orcs rejoiced, and the next day, they gathered all the food they could: fruit, fish, and boars, and waited in anticipation for the arrival of the god prophesied to them for so long. Their faith was at its peak, to the point that they would offer up a sacrifice among even themselves if need be. They knew no better, knew nothing of the outside world, and were simple-minded, expecting the heavens to tear open, and for their god to float down before them. However, as they waited for the arrival of their god, their heads against the ground, all of them gathered and kneeling patiently, their expectations, were met stale.
The horse snorted as it pulled the rickety wagon into the village. Grasping onto the reins, Chester sat stiffly at the sight of the strange people kneeling in the dirt. "Uhm... Milord..." He called out over his shoulder. "Are ya sure this is the place? These... People, look strange."
Erik merely glanced at one of them before realizing what they were. "They're orcs."
"Excuse me, milord. What is an orc?" Astra asked.
"They are."
The wagon came to a stop with all the orcs peeking up from the ground in confusion.
Marasia too, knelt with a wide and excited grin on her face, hardly able to keep her own breathing under control as she panted heavily.
The villagers, Chester, and Astra, were all at a loss, unsure how to act, too nervous to move comfortably
Erik, however, was far from it. His boot hit the mud as he stepped out. He walked forward, confidently and with the demeanor of a god among mortals, all the way up to the center where the food was gathered in large bundles, fish simmering on skewers next to a crackling fire, vibrant red fruit in baskets, and swine, tied to posts.
"My lord!" Marasia exclaimed, her back arced and with her arms spread out. "Welcome! I have prepared as much as I could for your arrival!! All is yours! This home, here, is yours as well!"
He made his way to her, noting the change in her appearance and her legs. "Serve me food." He said, raising his shadow into the form of a seat for him to rest in, facing towards the orcs who astonished at the sight of his shadow bending.
"Of course, my lord." Marasia obediently did as told, gathering food on a tray and offering it to her master on her knees. He took only a fruit. "My lord, that is a bragon fruit. It is quite sweet. Since I have taken over this village for you, I have managed to cultivate a large quantity of the trees that grow it. Is it to your liking?"
"It's fine. Have the orcs been taught to speak?"
"Orcs? Ah, yes. They have learned moderately, my lord."
"And manners?"
"Yes. They were but savage creatures, as I once was, but as you taught me, I taught them."
"Good. You may eat." He raised his voice.
The villagers were quiet, but after a few moments of hesitation, the first of them got up to get food, igniting the rest to follow in their steps.
They ate with their bare hands, though slowly and mannerly, as much as could be expected.
"You." He pointed to one of the men. "Come here."
The orc looked to the left and right before slowly stepping closer. "Y-Yes?" He muttered
"No. You will refer to me, as lord. As you all will."
"Yes... My lord..."
"What is your name?"
"Cho."
"And do you speak Common, Cho?"
"Y-Yes. I study every day."
"Good. Explain to me your people's ways. First off, your relations. Do you have a concept of marriage?"
"Mer... age...?"
"Yes. Do your people mate for life?"
"Yes, m-my lord."
"I see. Tell me, Cho. Would you find it strange to see a pair of siblings as mates?"
The orc felt his chest go numb, unsure how to think of the question. "Yes. That is strange." He answered, keeping his eyes down.
"I see. What of cousins?"
"...No... My lord."
"I see. From now on, such relations are forbidden. Deviancy of all kinds is also forbidden, and your marriages will now be considered void."
He spoke loudly enough that his words could be overheard by the entirety of the village
One of the orcs stood up against him, a gleam of confidence and boldness on face. "Our marriage, is, sacred."
Erik scoffed at the orc's resolution. "I will personally go over your marriages and deem whether or not they are allowed."
The orc furrowed his brow in anger. "Who deem you, god?"
"Who deemed me god? I did. I am your god, but I, unlike the known gods of man, am real."
"You. Not god!" He pointed and balled a fist.
Marasia burned with rage at the orc's audacity, but refrained from even speaking, not wanting to upset her master with any unwanted actions.
Erik, however, remained calm. He stared the orc down, those cold, unflinching blue eyes of his were unnerving to even the orc who was previously undaunted.
"What I deem to be law, is for good reason. Perhaps you do not trust me, and you would be right to think so. Regardless, the way I see it, you have no choice." He stood up, his seat retracting into the ground at his feet as he made his way to the standing orc.
The orc stepped back. He was tall, and while the majority of the orcs were practically skin and bone, he had noticeable muscle and battle scars. It was clear he was a hunter of the tribe.
"It is pointless to explain or argue, with a fool." He stepped up to the orc, staring him dead in the eyes. "Strike me. Kill me, and free your people. Otherwise..."
The orc swung and roared in rage, bare-fisted and fully intent on laying all of his strength onto his opponent, but his momentum was cut short. The sound of a loud, bone-cracking pop sent him stumbling back, groaning in pain and holding onto his shoulder. Already, his shoulder was dislocated and swelling up, but Erik didn't stop there. He needed to show the rest what would happen when they stepped out of line; to force obedience in the simplest way. The carrot, and the brutal stick.
He broke bones in several areas with swift and precise strikes with just his bare fist. Even when the orc fell to the ground, unconscious, he made sure that he would wake up in agonizing pain, at every part of his body, but would live without any damage that wouldn't heal.
Those watching looked away, or hesitated to stop the brutal abuse, opting to stay silent and still.
"Marasia." He held out his blood-covered hand with a handkerchief, prompting Marasia to quickly rush over to clean. Not a sweat broke on his forehead, nor a change in his demeanor. "Remember. Those who disappoint will be punished. Those who obey will eat."