Ragon blinked, staring at the strange and fragile hands before him.
He couldn't believe that his hands were very tiny
"Am I… a baby?"
He tried moving again but felt the awkward, clumsy swish of tiny limbs.
"He's so cute" he could hear the cries of the elderly woman holding him, and the proud joy in her.
"How did I get here?" Memories flooded back. The golden halls of Olympia, the deafening clash of weapons, and the rage of Zeus echoing as he defended his honor against the Olympian council. The gods couldn't overpower Zeus directly, so they targeted Ragon instead. His body was half-mortal, half-divinity which made him vulnerable. They struck him , stripping him of his life before he could ascend fully into immortality.
"They took everything from me… and now I'm in a baby's body? Is this the gods' idea of a joke?" Ragon thought as he was focused, trying to summon even the faintest spark of divine energy. He clenched passed for fists, but nothing came.
"Hmmm!" He with a hitched breath, but nothing happened. "I'm empty. No power. No aura. Just… mortal" he finally let out.
His eyes darted to the elderly couple smiling at him.
"Why are they looking at me like I'm some kind of precious relic? I mean, sure, I was gorgeous before, but this is ridiculous."
Natasha pressed her cheek to his tiny face. "Oh, he's so perfect!"
Ragon groaned internally. "Perfect? Lady, I'm a former god. This is far from perfect.
Far from the Elenadrom village, the orc horde marched,
"Aaah hoooo!" guttural chants could be heard.
Graknar, their warlord, rode a monstrous warg at the front, with his battle-axe shining in the fading sunlight.
"Another village," growled one of the lieutenants, his tusks gleaming. "These humans are weak. They'll fold just like the others."
Graknar nodded, his cruel grin revealing jagged teeth. "Weak, yes. But useful. We don't kill them all. The strong ones will serve the horde. The rest... will feed the beasts."
"Ahhh hooo!" They stroke their chest which was an expression of taking orders. As they approached the outskirts of the village.
*Bing! Bing! Bing!*
Sounded the village bell which was the first sign of trouble.
"Nooo! It's happening again" Ragnar heard the distant rumble of drums as it sent a chill down his spine. He stiffened, listening closely.
"Honey, stay inside," he said firmly, grabbing his staff.
"What's going on?" Natasha asked, clutching Ragon tighter.
"Orcs. Hide the child. Go now!" She hesitated, clutching the infant Paul to her chest.
"Go!" the old man barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.
With trembling hands, she descended into the cellar, closing the door behind her. Ragon could feel the old woman's heart racing with fear if her husband not returning.
Above them, the old man stepped outside, his staff glowing faintly with runes. Paul focused his senses, watching intently. The man began to chant, and a bolt of light shot from the staff, striking an advancing orc square in the chest.
"Just stay hidden," Ragnar repeated as he went to his wall and brought down a wooden staff. It looked like a scepter as he stepped outside, his staff glowing faintly.
Ragon watched him go, but couldn't do anything because he was barely a baby.
"I've fought titans, dragons, and Olympian demigods. Now I'm stuck here, helpless, while a mortal goes to protect me? This is humiliating."
Meanwhile, the orcs stormed through the village, smashing through doors and setting homes ablaze.
Various screams from the assaulted villages could be heard as they scattered, some wielding makeshift weapons, others running for their lives.
Ragnar stood firm in front if his house, his staff raised,
"MARA DELISH VAR'ENTASH!" He muttered an incantation, and a barrier of light appeared, slowing the orcs' advance.
Various orcs who saw that he was a mage became pissed off as they all swarmed towards the Golden protection barrier in other to break it. They all slammed there clubs into the barrier. "Old man, your tricks won't save you!"
The barrier cracked a bit but Ragnar persistently stood his ground.
Ragnar hands trembled as he chanted another spell,
"Azcàr lin'muresh...rah'kem rah'delish..." He sent a bolt of light into the orc's chest.
*Ahhhh!"*
The creature roared, staggering backward.
"Leave this village!" Ragnar commanded, loudly as it seemed as if his voice was amplified despite his weakening strength.
Graknar dismounted his warg, eyeing the old man with interest. "A mage," he rumbled. "Haven't seen one of your kind in a village like this in years."
Ragnar straightened, though his breath came in labored gasps. "I'll protect my home. Leave now, or face the consequences."
Graknar laughed, his deep voice reverberating. "You? Protect this village? You can barely stand."
The orc warlord raised his axe, swinging it with deadly force. Ragnar conjured another barrier, but it shattered under the impact, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Ragon's mind screamed in frustration. "Get up! Fight! Don't let them win! But his tiny body refused to obey.
An orc's club struck him in the side, sending him crashing to the ground. He groaned, struggling to rise, but his body refused to obey.
Natasha cellar door creaked open. Stepping out, clutching a knife. Ragon wanted to scream at her to stay hidden, but she moved forward.
"No!" she cried, throwing herself between her husband and the orcs.
She stood her ground, her voice shaking. "Please, spare him. Spare my husband. Take me instead."
"Move, human," he said, his voice a low growl as one if the Orcs raised his club to kill both of them
Ragon felt a faint pulse of energy stirring deep within him. It wasn't enough to act, but it was there, buried beneath layers of weakness.
"Wait."
The warlord's gaze fell on Ragon, who she held desperately watching the chaos with helpless fury.
"I gave an order," Graknar barked. His tone turned cold as he added, "Only the useful ones live."
Without warning, he swung his massive axe. The hesitant orc's head fell to the ground, his body crumpling in a heap. Blood sprayed across the dirt as the remaining orcs flinched, murmuring apologies.
"There's something... strange about this place," Graknar said, his eyes narrowing. He pointed to the crib. "Bring me the child."
"No!" the old man shouted, struggling to his feet. "Take me, but leave them alone!"
Graknar walked forward with his huge body and as he stared straight into the eyes of Ragon and it felt like he was drawn by an intense force as both their eyes were locked up.
For some minutes he didn't move, then finally he cut of his gaze as he shaked his head.
"Chain them all. We'll decide their fate later."
The orcs moved quickly, binding Ragnar and his wife.