It was only a couple of minutes that passed before another 30 or so indlovu stepped with still-surprising stealth from the grass with several huge casks held over their shoulders. Qaqambi prepared a massive bonfire with his guards’ help, and in the space of fifteen minutes or less, a roaring fire with a spitted oxfiend was surrounded by jolly indlovu and still confused keelish.

“What are we supposed to do about this?” Sybil asked me, her tone forcefully happy so as to be misunderstood by an indlovu that might somehow be capable of understanding our body language and tone.

“Eat, I guess.” I answered. “He doesn’t seem to have meant it as any sort of a challenge or affront. I’d guess that they think that one provides the food and the other the drink. Since the conversation took place in our camp, we provide the food?”

“I understood as much. But how are we to interact with them? There are nearly 50 of them now, and there is no way to tell that there will not be more. Most of the keelish do not speak any language that the indlovu do, and there is no communication between us or them about what this is meant to be.”

“True.” I answered. “But even if we suffer minor damages, I think that whatever happens here will be preferable to whatever might happen if we’d somehow managed to offend them before and were forced to engage in all-out battle.”

Sybil flicked her tail once. Forcefully. Then, she gathered her wits about her again and spoke. “Some of the tribe are confused about why they’re doing this now, since they refuse to believe that we could be worthy of it. Most, however, are simply pleased to be offered the opportunity to enjoy the festivities, even if unnecessary.”

“Then I suggest you go out and speak with them however much you can with your magic. Bekizo reacted quite favorably to that before, so you might be able to break down some barriers between us with your unique position.”

“As you command, my Alpha.” The slight bite of Sybil’s good-natured sarcasm belied her obsequious response, and she walked off to a group of four indlovu. I would have hesitated, but I could see the moment when her magical “voice” joined the rest, since every single nearby indlovu turned to stare at her. Before any of us could react, a dozen trumpeting calls of welcome or glory or some other positive emotion echoed through the gathering and the indlovu swarmed Sybil and began wrapping their trunks around her.

“Ashlani! Help!” she cried out, but still, quicker than I could rush forward, my Beta was lifted up by at least five different indlovu and held aloft. Sybil fought to steady her tone, and instead called down, “I believe I will survive. Do not hurt anyone.”

Confused, concerned, and a little amused, I watched as Sybil was carried around like a glorified baby. At each indlovu, she was apparently made to say something with her magic, and the new indlovu trumpeted out their own laugh before joining the caravan of excited giants. Before long, Qaqambi’s earthshaking steps approached me.

“You should have said that your love was one of us! “ He chucked, the rumbling words shaking in my chest and visible to my [Tremorsense], even in the air.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“I did when I first introduced myself!”

“Ahhh. But the Enkulu’s lands don’t only border on the Badlands but are mostly found within them! Why would I take their word seriously?”

“I… why wouldn’t you?”

“Their territory lies within the Badlands.” He stated as if that was supposed to mean anything to me.

“We don’t have our own territory. Why would we care where a different people’s tribe’s lands are?”

“I need to apologize once again, my friend. The indlovu people’s lands are everything to us. We are stewards, guardians, protectors, and nearly divine to those under our care. Those who cannot be trusted to care for bountiful lands cannot be trusted to speak truthfully or to trade honestly.”

“And… why are the Enkulu’s lands in the Badlands?”

“They were entrusted with more prosperous lands in the heart of the Republic in the days of my youth. Then, every five decades, when their stewardship was examined, they failed to pass evaluation. After every failure, they were relegated to a less prosperous land. They lost their herds, their ufudoluk, everything but their askari. After failing five times, the Enkulu lost all responsibility for the lands of the Republic, and have only a small slice of the very borders of the Republic.”

“Wait, but aren’t your lands near the Badlands?”

“Near, but not within!” Qaqambi nearly shouted at me.

“I apologize for the offense.” I quickly responded.

“No, you did not deserve that reaction. You do not know my people nor our ways. In truth, our land is a wonderfully blessed one. Prosperous, healthy, and good. It comes with an additional responsibility, due to its proximity to our borders. I am glad to have met you, Ashlani, and your people, because of these additional responsibilities.” As he spoke, Qaqambi reached out to a passing indlovu and grasped two indlovu-sized cups with his trunk. He offered one to me, and the smell of fermented something struck me in the nose.

“Now, drink and enjoy our meal!” Qaqambi cheered before putting the tip of his trunk fully into his cup and swiftly sucking every bit of the alcohol in before raising his trunk to his mouth and spraying it in. Taking the cup in both hands (unable to hold it securely with just one hand), I raised it to my mouth. I hadn’t drunk from a cup since my reincarnation, and I felt the liquid spilling out the corners of my mouth as I attempted it. The sticky liquid burned my throat as it went down, and I couldn’t hold a coughing fit back. I spilled more of my drink as I nearly lost hold of the cup, and the indlovu nearby laughed, though not mean-spiritedly.

“You wouldn’t have tasted alcohol before, would you?” said Qaqambi. “It is a drink that will make you more willing to engage in the party. The taste is one you will need to accustom yourself to, I’m afraid.”

“More than the taste,” I justified, “I just haven’t drunk out of a cup before. Let me try again.” I lowered my face into the cup and sucked deep. The booze, whatever it was, was thick like syrup, and it coated my mouth and throat the whole way down. The burn too was stronger than any spirits I’d drunk before, and a part of me wondered if the alcohol used for firebombs was this same stuff. Snot ran down my face as I breathed deep of the air outside of the cup, and the indlovu cheered at my willingness to drink. The drink, in my belly, burned, and I looked into the indlovu chieftain’s face.

“Strong.” I gasped.

“Needs to be to affect us!” He clapped me on the back and strode off to offer another the poison. Would that be enough to make me drunk? Could a keelish even get drunk? “Nievtala bless us.” I muttered under my breath as the heat settled into my belly and I imagined I could feel my legs wobble. I fought to keep my composure, and it wasn’t long before I learned the answer of if keelish could get drunk.