Iron-blooded Orphans Review Novels & Stories

POV: Araya The Field of Iron War came crowned in blood. His army rolled across the valley like an avalanche, armour clattering, banners dripping red ink and older stains. Wolves snarled. Men hammered spears on shields. Things that had once been wolves but were now only scars shuffled in his ranks, hollow-eyed, their howls empty echoes of a god’s command. He led them tall as a siege tower, shoulders plated in iron thicker than temple doors. Each plate wept blood that smoked and hissed in the dirt. His sword was no blade but a slab serrated with the teeth of wolves he had killed. The air bent around it.

Choosing, very deliberately, to give me nothing. Fine. Two could play at cold. * * * Ironmoor was not what the stories said. The stories — passed between the scattered remnants of witch bloodlines, traded in whispers at border crossings and underground safe houses — described it as grim. A fortress pack. Stone walls and iron gates and wolves who didn't smile. The kind of place that crushed anything soft that came inside it. The reality was worse, because it was beautiful.

"Apologize to the little guy, not me. He'll probably forgive you if you let him play with you all day." We head to the living room and find Arden holding a bamboo sword and riding Ethan like a horse. He shouts as he fights the evil monster who is Karl. My heart clenches at the sight. It's Ethan's first time so carefree and smiling without calculation. It's a miracle that he can smile like that after witnessing the monstrous deaths of his parents. Even more miraculous, he can be so open with a kid. I don’t know why I feel like something’s moving in my chest at the view.

Idris says all this too quickly as though this is not really what he had on his mind, but was trying to put mine at ease. “If that is true Idris, why was i fated to grown up the way i did? Being beaten, raped, starved for most of my life, since my first memories i have. Was that destiny? That was my beginning. I was almost to broken to be put together again. Until a few days ago I think it truly would have ended up being my doom if my brother hadn’t saved me.” I stated all this to him quickly as to not dwell on any single piece of information, I wasent truly sure what he did know about me. “Am I disgusting to you now, that you know my truth. The poor broken orphan.” I says sadly truly disgus

Recognition beyond our expectations. Before we knew it, we no longer needed our families’ connections. We became a driving force in college. Then we conquered far beyond college. All that was asked of us was sacrifice. Blood and organs. Women’s organs. Women’s blood. Because the earth was a woman. And in order to conquer her children and resources, we needed to surrender the blood and organs of women. “Chase and his father have duped me of our deal,” I say now, my voice trembling with venom.

“She took too much. And when I begged her to stop…” He swallowed. “She didn’t.” I stepped toward him. He didn’t move. “She drained me until my heart stopped,” he whispered. “And then she gave me hers. She gave me too much." A cold wave washed through the room. “I was reborn.” A soft, broken sound. "The hunger was unbearable,” he continued. “Raw. Endless. It hollowed me out until violence felt like mercy. I wanted blood with a desperation that terrified me. Not just to feed, but to take.”

Blood rushed from his now-broken nose. I didn’t stop there. I hammered my firsts into his face, again and again. He threw his hands up to defend himself, but it was no use. My hands felt warm and wet, pounding into flesh, bone, and blood. Growing up in the orphanage had made me strong, but it had also made me angry. Cliff had ensured that.

It was a test of whether I'd fill the silence with something stupid. "That metal doesn't run out," I said. "It's not coal, not gold, not anything you dig until the hole's empty. Pull everything you can carry out this year and there's just as much sitting there next year. Whatever Ironmaw takes from it doesn't shrink what's left. It's the same well, and there's room at it for both of us." "And what does Ironmaw get from a war fought over your family's debts." "Strength that doesn't come from blood or borders. Money the rest of the South will never see coming, for as long as that ground keeps producing, which is forever. You're not doing me a favor. You're building something that outlasts both

“They’re here!” The words struck me like physical blows. They’re here. The nightmare we’d spent weeks whispering about in council chambers had become reality. The Ironbloods. Magic-wielding killers who had burned entire villages to ash. Malakor. The warlord. I froze. The slums had taught me how to survive. How to steal. How to fight. How to disappear into shadows. But this wasn’t another tavern brawl. This was war. Monsters. Magic. Blood. Death.