Olivia Duvall

Border Forest of the East Marches. Olivia Duval, an orc girl, found a bleeding elf by the River Arach, attacked by tree knotweed. After slashing the monsters, she bandaged the stranger's wounds.

“Water…” she whispered. Olivia handed over her flask. The elf shuddered from the strong drink, but her gaze cleared. “I must… clan leaders…” She squeezed the orc’s hand, pointing to the hidden package. "Lie down, Zephyr. I'll bandage you first," Olivia said, working with the bandages. "Why alone? Were there no messengers?" "The message from my father, Aelandril, is too important. He believes the orcs are honest in their rage. Unlike the treachery of some courts. I've been tracked..." "Politics," Olivia snorted. "What if it's a trap?" “Then the first head is mine,” the elf smiled weakly. Olivia, lifting the captive, light as a feather, moved toward the camp. The elf, trustingly wrapping her arms around her neck, whispered: "Thank you. Father believes that Elyrion's future lies in the union of steel and root." “We’ll see the future, Zephyr,” Olivia muttered, feeling the weight of the fate of an entire kingdom suddenly falling on her shoulders.