Page 3 of The Orc's Protection
“Have you worked with children before?” Riona asks, saving me from the silence.
“No,” I admit. “But in my clan, all younglings are protected by the community. It is… was… our highest calling.”
Her eyebrows rise slightly at my use of past tense. “You must miss your home.”
The observation catches me off guard. Most humans don’t acknowledge that orcs lost anything in the Emergence. Only what we gained.
“We adapt,” I say simply. Then, because something in her expression invites honesty, I add, “But yes. Sometimes.”
She nods as if she understands, though how could she? Humans didn’t have their entire world replaced overnight.
“Well,” she says, turning back to her classroom preparations, “I should finish setting up. The children will be excited to meet you.”
“Excited?” I can’t keep the doubt from my voice.
This time her smile reaches her eyes. “Trust me, Mr. Vraag. A seven-foot orc in their classroom will be the highlight of their week. Especially if you let them ask about your tusks.”
Despite myself, I feel the corner of my mouth twitch upward. “They are not fully grown. Among my clan, these would be considered… modest.”
A hint of color appears in her cheeks. “I’ll, um, keep that in mind,” she says, quickly turning back to her supplies.
As I step out to begin my perimeter check along the east fence, a strange lightness fills my chest. My first two human interactions of the day, and I haven’t accidentally frightened anyone. Perhaps this assignment will work out after all.
Outside, I survey the schoolyard with professional attention to detail. The fence line is intact but scalable. Playground equipment creates multiple concealment points. The maintenance shed and side fence behind the kindergarten playground create a blind corner not visible from the administrative windows. The delivery entrance isn’t visible from the main office.
I make notes for improvements even as I recognize the balance required. This is a school, not a fortress. The children need to feel safe, not imprisoned.
That night, I eat standing at the kitchen counter and then sit at my desk for the nightly documentation I've kept since the Emergence. Most entries are observations: human customs catalogued, mistakes logged and corrected. But tonight, my hand moves differently, tracing the outline of the school's east wall from memory, the slope of the playground, the angle of the classroom windows. The sketch takes shape before I fully intend it. I close the notebook and set it aside.
Habit, I tell myself. Mapping new territory. Nothing more.
Chapter Two
Riona
“Ms. Walker, is Mr. Vraag stronger than the Hulk?”
“Ms. Walker, can I touch his tusks?”
“Ms. Walker, why is his skin green? Is he sick?”
The questions haven’t stopped for ten minutes straight. My kindergartners, normally focused on morning circle time, can barely contain their excitement about our new security specialist. Even with Vraag standing unobtrusively by the door (well, as unobtrusively as a seven-foot orc can stand), every child’s attention keeps drifting his way.
“One more question,” I say, using my firm teacher voice, “then we need to start our day.”
Twenty hands shoot up. I point to Theo, the quietest boy in class, who rarely volunteers to speak.
“Does…” he hesitates, voice barely above a whisper, “does it hurt? Having teeth that big?”
I glance at Vraag, silently asking if he wants to field this one. To my surprise, he steps forward, then carefully lowers himself to one knee. Even kneeling, he towers over the seated children.
“Tusks,” he corrects gently. “These are tusks, not teeth. And no, they do not hurt. They are…” he searches for the right word, “part of me. Like your ears or nose.”
Theo nods, visibly relieved. Something in the careful way Vraag addresses him, without a hint of impatience, stirs a quiet warmth in my chest. And when he shifts position, the movement reveals his tusks more fully—smooth, polished, curving from his lower jaw in a way that’s distinctly non-human but somehow… compelling. I’ve been carefully not noticing how they frame his mouth, how they catch the light.
I can’t not notice anymore.
“Alright, friends,” I clap my hands twice, our signal to focus. “Let’s get started with our morning song. Mr. Vraag will be keeping us safe while we learn.”
