The sun was setting over the jagged cliff. The sky glowed orange and pink, painting the rocky peaks in warm light. The wind blew hard through the tall stones, carrying the smell of pine tree.

Borg stood on a narrow ledge, his body stiff, claws ready at his sides. His torn cloak flapped like a broken flag, and his eyes shone with malicious intent.

Across from him, Shava stood like a giant hill. The elite orc's huge body was full of muscle, her green skin marked was slick, devoid of battle scars Her tusks flashed as she showed her teeth in a mean growl, her axe held tight in one hand, its blade catching the sunset like it wanted blood.

"You think you can sneak away, little rat?" Shava's voice was a deep growl, shaking the small rocks at her feet.

"You turned on Kragg. You turned on me! There's no hole deep enough for you to hide." Shave was hurt he would do something so foolish even though she had suspected he was lying for quite sometime, she never knew it would escalate to this degree.

Borg's mouth turned up in a smirk, but his heart beat was fast. He was no match for Shava in a fair fight—her strength was famous, her anger like a wild storm. But Borg lived by being smart, not strong. He raised his hands, palms out, acting like he gave up.

"Shava, Shava, let's not rush. We're old friends, right? Partners in this mess? No, you're my woman," Borg corrected himself with the very last four words uttered.

"Partners?" Shava spit the word like it tasted bad. She took a step closer, the ground shaking under her heavy boots.

"You sold us to the humans. You're their pet dog, that's what you are. I should cut you open and leave your body for the birds." Shava meant every word coming out of her mouth.

Borg's eyes flicked to the axe. One swing, and he'd be cut in half. He needed to keep her talking, buy time, find a way out.

"Come on, my love. You're not clean either. Who told Kragg to trust me? Who backed every plan I made, even when he knew something was wrong?" Borg questioned.

Shava's eyes got thin, but she didn't swing. Not yet.

"You twisted my words. Used me to get near him." Shave pointed out but in doing so, accepted her ole in all of this.

"Maybe," Borg said, his voice smooth like water.

"But Kragg listened to *you*. Not me. You were the voice in his ear, my fierce Shava. If I'm a traitor, what does that make you?" Borg knew all that mattered in this world was the narrative one was able to present, the truth was irrelevant.

The orc's hold on her axe got tighter, her knuckles making popping sounds.

"Don't play tricks, Borg. I'll smash your head before you blink." Shava barked but her voice cracked.

Borg took a careful step back, his boots scraping the ledge. The drop behind him was straight down, a fall into the dark that would end him just like Shava's axe. He had to be careful, exact.

"Go ahead, then. Kill me. But what happens when Kragg finds my body? You think he'll just forgive it?" Borg questioned.

Shava stopped for a second, her axe dropping an inch. Borg saw his chance and jumped on it.

"You know Kragg," he went on, voice low and quick.

"He's always worried. You kill me, and he'll ask questions. Who was with me? Who let me get this far? And you, Shava—you were always next to me, saying I was good. Every meeting, every plan, you were there, agreeing. All I need is to leave a small note, a whisper in the right ear before I die telling him you forced me to do it, and Kragg will know you helped." Borg revealed because nothing was stopping her from reporting him. So why did she choose to kill him if she wasn't trying to cover tracks?

"You must have guessed it but I'm not working alone," Borg added to further solidify the possibility of her being revealed as the mastermind behind all of this.

"You lie." Shava's growl weakened, her eyes showing doubt.

"Do I?" Borg's smirk grew. He took another step back, closer to the edge, but his voice stayed calm.

The wind picked up, pushing Shava's braided hair across her face. She brushed it away with an angry swipe, her axe shaking in her hand.

"You dare threaten me?" Shave questioned.

"It's not a threat. I would never do that to you, my love," Borg said fast.

"Kill me, and you lose everything. Let me go, and we both walk away with the possibility of gaining everything. You keep Kragg's trust. And my heart. No one has to know this happened today." Borg revealed.

Shava's chest went up and down fast, her breath coming in big puffs. But Borg's words were a different weapon, cutting into her on a psychological level. She could smash him with one hit—her muscles wanted to—but the price was too high. Kragg's trust was her lifeline. Without it, she was nothing.

"You snake," she hissed, but her voice was not as strong as before.

I will forget this happened. If I catch you again, I'll tear you apart, no questions."

Borg's smirk came back, though his legs shook with relief.

"Deal. You won't catch me again," Borg revealed. This also meant he had no intention of stopping what he was doing.

He took a slow step away from the edge, then another, keeping his eyes on her axe. Shava didn't move, her gaze locked on him, full of hate but held back by cold thinking. Borg left the edge of the ledge, where a thin path curved down into the growing shadows. He gave her a fake wave.

"I will see you at home, Shava," Borg said his goodbye.

With that, he turned and hurried down the path, his big body disappearing into the dim light. Shava stood still, her axe hanging at her side. The wind blew louder, like it was laughing at her. She roared, a sound of pure mad feeling, and swung her axe into a nearby big rock. The blade dug deep, sparks flying, but it did nothing to calm the storm in her chest.

Borg was gone. She had let him go. The orc had beaten her, not with strength but with words. She hated him for it, hated herself more. Kragg could never know. She would hide this evening, hide the truth from everyone. She was Shava, the unbreakable, the loyal one.

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