Guilt

[Therak]

He was a cub again, weak and powerless. It was that night. The sounds of battle was filling the small internment camp. Cries of pain, fury and hate mixing with the wet thudds of blades cutting into unarmored flesh. The smell of smoke, decay and death almost overpowering the small orc, hidden behind a crate.
A grasping hand hoisting him up into the air was the first sign he wasn't s hidden as he had first thought. The giant face of an orc glaring at him, murder in his eyes. ”This is all your fault you little shit, every orc in this camp will be dead by morning.” The stench of rotting teeth and rancid breath cutting through the already heavy stench in the air, making Theraks eyes water and dry retch. ”And it! Is! Your! Fucking! Fault!” Each word followed by the orc smashing him into the already crumbling wall. The pain wasn't as bad as he expected. But fear kept him paralyzed.
The big orc lifted a cudgel made from a broken fence post, a tuft of hair and skin hanging from the business end of it, testifying to the use it had already seen.
Tears welled up in Theraks eyes, this time it wasn't the stench. Finally, he could move, snapping out with his hand, his filthy fingers and nails scoring several red, bleeding gouges down the fearsome face of his captor, one eyeball ruined a gooey liquid running down his ruined face..
Surprise more then pain got the bigger orc to lose his grip, and the pain distracted him long enough for Therak to run, stumbling over corpses, ducking under swinging weapons. His tiny, bony frame keeping them from percieving him as a threat, even if he was noticed at all.
He kept running, squeezing between the bars of the portcullis and beyond.
Panting for breath, he stopped at the top of a cliff, looking out over Stonetalon mountains. A cool breeze washed over him, bringing with it the smell of summer. Taking slow, deep breaths. Therak forced himself to calm. ”Think, assess, act.” he reminded himself. Looking around. A burnt out campfire and an empty sleeping roll was on the ground next to him. Rustling made Therak turn around, an orc rushing towards him. Face familiar. Familiar as family. His brothers face twisted into a mask of rage. Arms held out before him, towering over his much smaller twin. ”It's all your fault!” His brother slammed into him, bringing them both to the ground. ”They all died because of you! You betrayed them.” The bigger orc slamming his fist into the face of the orc-child. ”There's only one punishment for traitors...” He grabbed Therak by the scruff of his neck, dragging him towards the edge of the cliff. The wind picking up, bringing with it the stench of smoke and burnt flesh. Theraks hand settled on a stone, flinging it at Thu'uk. It seemed to move as in slow-motion. Following its course, hitting Thu'uk in the back of his head with a wet thud. The bigger orc toppling forwards, over the edge.
The young orc rushed to the edge, looking down, to see his brother hanging with one hand on a stone. Therak, suddently adult. Reached out with his hand, offering it to his brother. Only to see him let go, falling towards his death, his eyes locked on Theraks. Mouth moving in a soundless ”Kinslayer...”
Once again a child, Therak ran. Ran like a cub knowing he'd done something wrong, but maybe,  just maybe if he ran fast enough, far enough he'd be forgiven.

He still ran, the sun was setting, he was in Silvermoon. Something was chasing, something big, something nasty. He slammed a door open, running through. Straight into the home of ”Flappy”. The young elf he had served with up in Northrend, with a name unpronouncable by anyone not born elf, and his oversized (even for an elf) ears tendency to flap whenever he got excited. The name Therak had called him stuck.
”If it wasn't for you I'd still be alive.” There was nothing excited about the elf this time, Therak, still a cub, felt the glare of the elf scorching him like the burning sun of Tanaris. ”You knew I was too young to join up. You knew I had lied about my age, all it had taken was a word to our commander, and I'd have been home.” The elf walked closer, and Therak could see the red grin, open beneath the chin of the elf. ”It would have cost you nothing, I was even a liability up there at first. The rest of you lot had to train me from scratch...” Arms, impossibly long reaching out, closing around Theraks neck. ”Just one short conversation, and you would have spared me the sights, the horrors, the pain. One short talk, and I'd have been here all along, helping my sister. One little whisper, and she wouldn't be chased by creditors, calling in debts I gathered up while drinking myself into a wreck, finally giving me the courage to finish it...” The elf flung the orc into a wall, kicking him hard in the stomach. Pain erupted everywhere, Theraks vision wavering. Everything sounding distant, the words ringing in his ears. ”It's all your fault...”

Therak woke with a start, clutching his stomach, taking deep breaths to calm himself. After a few moments he was composed enough to take in his surroundings. Tents, the sound of a river nearby. Snoring from all around him. Slowly things began to make sense. Uldum, the gut wound. It was all a dream. ”Bloody hell, all her fault for bringing it up old shit....” He was muttering to himself, looking over his stomach, the wound had re-opened. Probably ripped it, twisting during the dream.
Throwing off the blanket Therak looked at the burnt out fire, grabbed needle and thread from his pack, sitting in silence, gritting his teeth as he put the needle to the wound.
There would be no more sleep tonight.

[Thrash'Nak]

(( :< So sad.. Great job however. ))

[Grekthar]

((Next time I'm just going to cauterise the bugger... great story though ))

[Sadok]

((An interesting concept piece. I loved how time and location were played with to create an emotional and somewhat nonlinear narrative. And the literary leitmotif of 'if not for you... it was your fault... etc' certainly drove home the message.))

[Therak]

((The time and place was played with, simply because dreams tend to ignore such matters ))