She never knew her mother and father. All that she knew was what – or who they left behind. Her. She knew that she was half human and half-orc. The monks couldn’t tell her anything about who dropped her off on the deserted island. Brother Oralndo told her that they’ve never seen her parents. All they knew was her name: Senosha.
The darkness rolled around the temple. Shadows slowly pooled into the grotto cooling Senosha’s skin.
She banged her fists against the dummy. Rude clashes of flesh and wood broke the silence of the temple. She didn’t hear Brother Garion walk toward one of the pillars and lean against it.
Fighting always made her feel at peace.
“Hey, you,” he called. The punching stopped. Senosha turned to look at Garion’s smug expression.
“Not today, Garion,” grumbled Senosha and she turned back around to the dummy. Her massive fists clinched. Her nails almost cutting into her grey flesh. She continued to pound it pretending it was Garion’s vile face.
“I heard about what happened in Roxwood Port today,” he pressed and moved towards her noiselessly.
“Yea, what of it?” she snarled still pounding the large wooden doll.
“I heard you punched a man,” he said. “Like the way you are that dummy.”
She continued to hit her target.
He moved to her left.
“That’s not what monks do, Patience.” He clasped his hands together.
Senosha stopped, and she turned to faced him. He knew how much she hated that human name. He was close to her now, almost three feet away. Easy enough to grapple, she thought.
“You must remember your training” he said in a sing-song voice.
Senosha towered close to 6 feet tall with large massive arms and even larger legs. Garion wanted to fight. Or he didn’t and wanted to make her lunge at him just to go screaming to Father Oralndo. He could never let it down that Father loved her more than him. Her! An orphan!
These thoughts raged in her mind scarring the peace she felt prior to this weasel’s presence.
“You know what, Garion?” she said rather pleasantly,”You never liked that Father liked me best. A half-orc; an orphan.”
“Yes, in fact,” Garion whispered. “But I am sure you will not let Father in our little secret.”
Senosha growled. “Go away, Garion. I am not in the mood.”
“But I am,” he smiled. “You see, Father isn’t going to like you punching random people.”
Senosha kept her composure and stared into his deep green eyes. She said nothing.
“Once he finds out what you’ve done, you’re out,” his grin widened. His laughing eyes mocked her in the dancing firelight.
She hated the idea, but he was correct. Senosha swiftly turned to the right and stormed off. Her barefoot slapping on the stone floor. She walked so fast that Garion couldn’t keep up.
She flew from the training area to the courtyard. Bewildered monks hastily stepped out of her way.
Thoughts raged inside her mind like streams of water through a mountain. Where were her people? Why did her parents leave her? The stream turned into a pool forming into an empty void inside her. In that moment, she decided she wanted to leave.