Chapter 46: Different Paths
Za’r jerked awake as though someone had called her name. Her breathing quickened, and before her mind had fully caught up, her hand instinctively reached toward the space beside her. Her fingers brushed nothing but cold hay, causing her heart to skip a beat. She sat upright immediately, her sleepy eyes darting frantically around the dim chamber until she realized the bed beside hers was already empty.
"Ka’z?" she called softly, her voice still thick with sleep.
"Don’t worry," Tong’a’s calm voice answered from across the room. "He woke up quite a while ago. He’s already back to work."
Za’r followed the voice and found the old Oracle seated comfortably on a wooden stool. Beside him sat Kurg, his shoulders drooping and his ears hanging low. The usually timid kobold looked unusually quiet, as though something heavy weighed upon his heart.
"Sister..." Kurg forced a smile when he noticed she was awake. "I just heard Tud’or made Ka’z a captain. He’s already outside training his own squad."
His smile widened for only a brief moment before sadness quietly seeped back into his voice. "Amazing... right?"
Za’r blinked several times. Her thoughts were still sluggish, struggling to escape the haze of exhaustion. Slowly, the pieces began falling into place. Ka’z had recovered. He had already left. He was leading warriors now.
A small smile appeared on her face and then it disappeared almost as quickly. She lowered her eyes toward her own hands and the room suddenly felt much quieter than before.
Their lives as kobolds had always been cruel. Every sunrise demanded labor. Every sunset demanded endurance. They hunted, built, gathered, repaired, trained and survived. The little time left afterward belonged to sleep. There was hardly ever room for anything else.
Even after the nightmare of the previous night, even after everyone had nearly died. The colony simply could not afford to stop.
Life continued because it had to.
Za’r slowly leaned back against the cave wall before curling into herself. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face between them, trying to hide from thoughts that refused to leave her alone.
She could still see them.
Every time she closed her eyes, the battlefield returned. She remembered crawling through mud soaked crimson, desperately trying to keep Tud’or alive while his life slipped away beneath her trembling hands.
She remembered Tu’ka lying motionless beside him with an arrow buried deep in his neck. She remembered Ka’z barely standing, swollen beyond recognition, stubbornly refusing to let go of that staff despite barely remaining conscious.
Her healing magic had saved lives. Yet, It hadn’t saved everyone. Nine kobolds never came home.
The thought crushed her chest.
"I don’t want to go back..." she whispered, her voice breaking into quiet sobs.
"I don’t want to see that again."
The tears came silently. She wasn’t ashamed of being afraid. She was simply exhausted.
Everything she had witnessed the previous night had been far beyond what a girl barely older than two years should ever have experienced. The only reason she had endured it at all was because Ka’z, Tu’ka and the others had needed her.
Without that purpose, she knew she would have broken much sooner.
Tong’a quietly watched her without interrupting. There was no disappointment in his eyes.
Earlier that morning, Kurg had sat in exactly the same place wrestling with exactly the same fears. He blamed himself for staying behind and for contributing nothing while everyone else bled for the colony.
Yet despite all that guilt, he was still terrified of battle. Tong’a understood those feelings all too well. Every generation eventually reached this crossroads.
He had watched it happen to his own companions. Then he had watched Lan’ka, Lady Zira and Tud’or discover who they truly were after facing fear for the first time. Now, It was Ka’z’s generation standing before the same choice.
Not everyone was born to swing a spear or meant to stand at the front lines. The colony survived because each kobold eventually found the place where their own strengths mattered most.
"And you don’t have to go back."
Tong’a smiled gently as he stretched out an aged hand toward her. Za’r slowly raised her tear-filled eyes.
"You’ve already done enough. Would you help me instead?"
She blinked.
"Help you?"
Tong’a nodded.
"Our wounded still need healing. Our people need comfort. Our children need hope. The first faces they should see after tragedy should belong to someone who reminds them life is still worth protecting."
Za’r stared at him speechlessly. Her breathing gradually steadied.
"You mean... I can do that?" Her voice trembled.
She instantly understood what Tong’a was implying. Tong’a nodded without hesitation.
"You can."
She lowered her gaze again.
"But... I can’t receive visions. I’ve never heard the voice of the Greater Kobold. I haven’t built a relationship with God yet."
Tong’a chuckled quietly before dismissing her worries with a gentle wave.
"The first duty of an Oracle isn’t speaking with the Greater Kobold."
He tapped his own chest.
"It’s speaking with the people."
He pointed toward the cavern outside.
"They’re frightened. They’ve lost family. They’ve lost certainty. They need someone willing to carry a little of that burden. Your relationship with the Greater Kobold will grow with time. But your relationship with His people begins today."
Za’r slowly lifted her head. The hopelessness clouding her eyes gradually faded. For the first time since waking, hope quietly returned to her heart.
She could finally be useful without needing to kill people.
Beside them, Kurg suddenly grabbed Tong’a’s leg with both hands, his tail wagging uncontrollably.
"Are you really taking me to meet him?"
Tong’a looked down with amused eyes and nodded.
"Yes, like I promised, I will take you to meet the legendary elder who dug out our home."
Kurg’s eyes sparkled.
"The one who controls all the tunnels and built every defense beneath the colony?"
His excitement completely overshadowed the sadness he had carried moments earlier.
When Kurg had confessed his fears that morning, he had expected Tong’a to tell him to become braver. Instead the old Oracle had told him a story of a person whom was born in the same era as him and O’nil.
Long ago, there had been another kobold exactly like him. No... Perhaps even worse. The elder had been painfully shy, he hated crowds, feared blood and the sight of battle made his legs shake uncontrollably.
Unable to fight alongside everyone else, he secluded himself beneath the earth and devoted every waking moment to mastering his Earth Affinity.
While others became famous hunters and celebrated warriors that nameless recluse quietly reshaped the entire underground.
Every tunnel.
Every hidden chamber.
Every emergency escape.
Every defensive wall.
Every collapsing passage.
Every maze capable of trapping invaders.
All of it had been created by a single kobold. He had never sought recognition or attended celebrations.
No one outside Tong’a’s generation had even seen his face. Yet everyone slept peacefully because his hands had built the home protecting them and he was secretly always protecting them even till this day.
He was the invisible shield of Vaal’kor. The silent guardian hidden beneath the mountain and the only Gold Core warrior remaining within the colony.
The true final line of defense should every other warrior fall.
Kong’gong.