Snak's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

The first three students left after two weeks. Snak woke one morning and found their bunks empty, their training weapons abandoned in the dirt. No explanation, no farewell. He stood in the silent compound and felt the weight of it settle in his chest. He'd pushed them hard—maybe too hard. Or maybe not hard enough. He walked to the dining hall and saw the banner one of them had touched, still blank. The tables sat empty. The weapon racks waited unused. He had built everything right, but something in his teaching had failed. Snak sat on the stone bench and stared at the compound he'd worked so hard to create. Warriors needed more than walls and training equipment. They needed a reason to stay, and he hadn't given them one yet. He spent the next three days building new training obstacles. If the drills were too simple, the students got bored. If they were too hard, they got hurt. Snak constructed a platform with spiked metal spokes around the edges, anchored by aged cables he'd found near the ruined structure. The surface rotated when weight shifted on it, and burgundy moss covered the metal in slippery patches. He tested it himself and nearly fell twice before catching his balance. Young orcs would hate this thing. They would also need it if they wanted to survive real combat. He set up a practice target near the dining hall—a stone figure already cracked and scorched from whoever had used it before. The damage would show students what happened when defense drills went wrong. Snak walked to the edge of the compound and found a small cascade spilling over dark burgundy stones. The water looked lime green in the fading light, dripping into a quiet basin below. He sat down and watched it for a while. The sound was soft, almost peaceful. He thought about the three students who left and wondered if they'd found another teacher. Maybe they'd gone back to their clans and forgotten about training altogether. He rubbed his face with both hands. This place was supposed to make warriors stronger, but all he'd done so far was drive them away. He stood and walked back through the compound. The rotating platform waited in silence. The cracked target stood ready. The small waterfall continued its steady drip. Everything was here—everything except students who believed in what he was trying to build. Snak picked up one of the abandoned training weapons and turned it over in his hands. He needed to change his approach. Walls and obstacles weren't enough. Next time, he would teach them why they were fighting, not just how. The compound felt empty tonight, but Snak wasn't ready to quit. Not yet.