I tossed another log onto the small campfire and watched the flames consume the wood. I’ve grown used to the smell of campfires to the point I think I enjoy it. I didn’t necessarily connect the smell with good times, and I just found it pleasant.

Any smell beats the smell of a battlefield anyways. It turns out corpses burnt by fire magic and the inside of people’s stomachs don’t smell very delightful.

We didn’t manage to get to the designated rendezvous point before nightfall. And unlike us Elves, Beastmen needed to sleep regularly like Humans. Veme and Bella also had been walking from Nactus the entire time, so they needed the rest. However, Veme offered to stay awake on guard duty with me tonight. A choice born from the awkward atmosphere amongst us.

Perhaps it was my and Sylvia’s attitude that gave off a distrusting aura. Or maybe these two have just been around long enough not to trust people blindly. Either way, I had no complaints.

Veme was a mostly agreeable watch partner. She didn’t speak much and just stared listlessly into the fire. Pretty much the same thing I do nowadays.

Traditionally we should have been separated from the camp and go patrolling every so often. Even Dem and the group used to employ this tactic. It was just common sense. Being attacked by a monster or a bandit was always a possibility.

But an Elf and Bestmen guard combination could forgo that if they wanted to. With my hearing and Veme’s sense of smell, it was doubtful anyone or anything would be able to get close to us.

I stopped staring into the fire’s warm abyss and peered up at Veme. Veme wore a simple brown leather and chainmail outfit that was common amongst adventurers. A simple Dwarven Steel sword laid across her lap.

Like Elves, it was difficult to discern a Beastmen’s physical age. As a race, they seemed to be blessed with a youthful appearance. Although I had seen Beastmen, I would say they were old. More often than not Bestmen had the appearance of being in their twenties or late thirties.

Sorn, the bear Beastmen who helped me escape and led me to The Keepers, didn’t look a day past twenty. Yet he was almost forty years old.

I wonder if he is okay. I haven’t forgotten about you either, Sorn.

In Veme’s case, I couldn’t be sure how old she was. Her gray and white hair didn’t help me discern anything, and her placid, although beautiful, face wasn’t much help either. If I were to compare her to a Human, she wouldn’t be older than thirty. So if I had to guess, Veme was either younger than she appeared and she was trying to act older, or Veme was much older.

Veme’s cyan eyes drifted up from the fire and landed on me. “Perhaps we should hold a conversation. We have many hours until we swap positions with the other two.”

“I don’t mind either way,” I said more coldly than I had meant. A flash of sadness washed over Veme’s face for only a moment.

Ah, perhaps I was too harsh… I feel like I’ve been through this before. Have I regressed so much?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so indifferent. Would you mind if I asked you a question?” I said.

Veme seemed interested for a second, and she nodded slowly. “As long as I can ask you one in return.”

I was about to ask my question when Veme put up a single hand. “But first, would you care for a drink?”

I tapped my mask slowly with a finger. Veme gave me a nod of understanding and unslung her pack, and began fumbling around in it. “I hope you don’t mind if I make myself something.” I waved off her concern, and she set to work bringing out various apparatuses I had never seen before.

She took an iron cup, filled it with water, and then set it to boil on top of the fire. There wasn’t any need to clean her water as I assumed she had done it beforehand. Just because light mages exist in this world didn’t mean dysentery didn’t.

That’s why I wish I could use water magic. Talk about lucky. Perhaps the grass is just always greener on the other side.

I watched curiously as Veme shook a bag as something earth-brown and granulated fell into a metal cylinder. Veme grabbed the iron cup full of water with a double-wrapped gloved hand before it reached boiling. She poured the steaming hot water into the cylinder with the grinds, and I had a weird feeling that this was familiar. Then the smell wafted towards me, and I started having flashbacks.

It’s been fourteen years since I last smelled this. You couldn’t walk into an officer’s quarters without smelling this in the morning. I was never one to drink it, but it always smelled phenomenal.

“What is that you are making?” I asked.

Veme tilted her head to the side slightly while shaking up the cylinder and putting it over the fire. “Is that your first question?” She had a weird inflection in her voice that I didn’t quite understand. She sounded rude but for some reason, I don’t think she was trying to say it that way.

“Sure…” I said.

“I recently purchased this bean powder from a merchant. It’s something relatively new called Jinx Bean. I was told it was from Syn’nari.”

Jinx Bean? Well, at least it’s a bean in this world as well. But there was no doubt that this new Jinx Bean was indeed coffee. And it’s from Syn’nari…

“Why is it called Jinx Bean?” I wondered out loud.

“Two questions before I ask one? That’s not very fair, Mr. Voker.” Veme frowned at me, and I think she was trying to imitate pouting, but she didn’t change her eyes, so the effect was lost.

“Ah… sorry? And you can just call me, Voker.”

Veme shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll count it as one question just for you, Voker.”

Uh, huh…

“The merchant I bought it from said it was because of the smell. The aroma is enticing, and one would imagine the liquid brewed from the bean would taste as good as it smelled. However, the taste, at best, is bitter. As for why I would drink a bitter-tasting drink, I found the flavor to be enjoyable. I was never a fan of the leaf water Human and Elven nobility enjoys so much. The slight boost to energy and focus is also enjoyable.”

I can agree with the dislike for tea. I never enjoyed the drink when I frequently taste-tested it at the Sandervile mansion upon Adria’s request. I personally feel that she was forced to enjoy the taste… as for my old life, I feel like coffee was the same way. Humanity was hopelessly addicted to caffeine.

Veme carefully grabbed the boiling cylinder and gently placed it on the ground to cool. “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

It’s from Syn’nari… from home… I’ve never had coffee before… I kind of want to try it.

Veme smiled faintly at me. “I’ll face the other way if that makes you feel better.”

Ah… this is a bad idea…

“Sure. But if you—”

“Turn around, and there will be a problem?” Veme said coldly. Then she gave another half-smile. “I understand. I won’t turn around.”

Veme brought out a wooden cup and carefully poured the dark brown liquid. The bold aroma of the black coffee was intoxicating as it was carried on the cold wind. There were a few different smells inside the coffee, but my untrained nose could hardly discern them. All I knew was that it smelled good. It might even smell better than I remembered from my previous life.

Is that because I’ve changed or because the coffee is different? I can’t be sure.

Veme handed me the cup and took her own, and I eyed it suspiciously. Veme, seemingly discerning my invisible gaze, attempted to assuage my worries. “Don’t worry. It’s not poisoned or anything. Here.” Veme took a sip of coffee from her cup and even directly from the pot, which was a mistake.

Veme stuck her tongue out while whimpering and fanning her tongue. The coffee had burnt her, and the Beastmen’s attempts to stop the pain failed. Veme let out a sigh of relief as she settled for grabbing a chunk of snow and rubbing it on her red tongue.

I don’t know whether to laugh or just feel bad. At least it wasn’t poisoned. I mean, I did watch her make the drink. It was just me being over cautious.

Veme finally settled down and gave me a meek look while turning around and facing her sleeping partner. I was somewhat surprised Bella had managed to stay asleep the entire time.

I turned around and faced Sylvia, who was pretending to be asleep. I could tell just by her breathing that she had yet to fall asleep in her sleeping bag. I placed the cup down on the ground and put some spare winter gloves on. I pulled my hood over my head and settled in. I made sure my hair wasn’t being exposed, and my skin was well hidden.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Doing this was probably a mistake, but… I want to do this, so screw it. Worst comes to worst I can always just kill them.

I gently took off my mask and placed it into my ring just in case I needed to put it back on quickly. However, it wouldn’t matter since my skin and hair color changed in a slow wave effect. I brought the cup to my nose and enjoyed the smell of the coffee one more time before I took a sip. The hot liquid hit my tongue, and I immediately coughed and nearly spat out the bitter-tasting drink.

I could hear Veme giggle quietly to herself as her emotionless voice called out to me. “A little on the bitter side, no? How about I help you with that.”

I quickly put my mask back on and gave the changing effect a few seconds to finish before turning back around. Veme only turned when she heard me face her completely. She took the cup from me and shook another small bag. “It’s sugar. You can taste it if you don’t trust me.”

It wasn’t likely that it was poisoned. If it was, I am inches away from Sylvia who could just heal me. If it was a slow-acting poison, all the better.

I waved her concerns away, and she put a pinch of sugar into both of our drinks and handed it back to me. I repeated the same process and took another sip of the drink. The bitterness was still there, but it wasn’t nearly as overpowering, thanks to the sugar.

Not bad… not great though…

“Better?” Veme asked.

“Better.”

“That’s good. Now then, I have a question for you. Did you really kill that Wyrm?”

“I did. We got lucky, but we made it out with our lives. I could tell you about the fight if you like.”

“No need. I read the report,” Veme stated.

“You read the report? How did you even see it?”

“Do you not know? Your report is being used as a training exercise to defeat adult Wyrms if one ever shows up. Unfortunately, there aren’t many records of people fighting one.”

“I wasn’t aware…” I muttered.

Oh, no… what have you done, Dominick.

That report was utterly fabricated. I indeed wrote what I would have done theoretically in a straight-up fight against a Wyrm, but that was it. After all, I could hardly write down that Sylvia used ancient Vampire magic to kill the thing almost instantly.

Well, hopefully, my combat theories show results. Having people die because of a falsified report would be disastrous. I’ll write a letter when I get to Luminar.

I finished off my coffee mostly in embarrassment and half because I didn’t want to have my mask off for so long. “Is that all you want to know?” I asked.

“Sure, you can ask another question,” Veme said.

Once I was ready, I turned back around to face Veme, and she did the same. I had a few questions to ask, but I figured I should first ask the least personal one.

“You aren’t from around here, right? So, where are you from?” I asked.

Veme nodded her head slowly. “Yes, I’m not. I’m from the United Tribes of Khiz. I left Amoth about twenty years ago and haven’t returned.” Veme looked up at me and narrowed her eyes slightly. “You are not from this area either, are you?”

The United Tribes of Khiz, huh? That’s the region in the southwest of Amoth, I believe. It’s a country of Beastmen that came together after a leader united all the Beastmen tribes. Unfortunately, my knowledge about the country and that part of the region is sparse. I wonder if Cerila’s Beastmen side of the family is from that place.

“Yes, I’m from Syn’nari, actually.”

It wasn’t common knowledge that I was from Syn’nari, so I had no problem sharing that fact. Also, I’ve never been to Tel’an’duth or Amoth, so if somebody questioned me, I wouldn’t be able to provide a sufficient lie to cover myself.

“I heard there were a few High Elves in Syn’nari,” Veme said idly while sipping her coffee, prompting me to ask another question with her gaze.

“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” I asked.

Veme mouthed hypothetical out slowly to herself then frowned slightly. “I’m sorry, I do not know what that word means.”

We spoke in the Human language, so perhaps it was lost in translation. I figured she was speaking Beastmen, but I didn’t know how to say hypothetical in that language. Beastmen was my worst-known language out of the three.

“It’s just a question based on an imaginary situation,” I said, trying my best to simplify the word.

Veme shrugged. “I don’t know why you would want to ask me such a question, but I don’t see a problem with it.

“Okay… if, by chance, a Beastmen was born deaf in your tribe. What would happen?” I asked.

“They would be put out of their misery. Even a child of the hunt wouldn't be allowed to suffer such a life.” Veme’s voice was completely void of emotion. She said it so matter of factly even I couldn’t help but be slightly surprised.

Maybe sensing my surprise, Veme continued. “Perhaps that is foreign to an Elf, but Khiz is a harsh place to live. Winter is twice as long there, and food is scarce. If a child was born weak, they would not last the cold and would only be a burden to the family. A Beastmen with weak blood would also go on to breed weaker and weaker children, and this is unacceptable.”

I see… it makes sense. Healing magic can’t undo illnesses or defects people are born with. In Cerila’s case, she would have been killed as a child if she had been born in Khiz. Just because it makes sense doesn’t mean I have to like it.

“Can I ask you why you asked me such a question?” Veme asked.

“Sure, I’ll even tell you for free,” I said, trying to lighten the mood slightly. But Veme just stared at me blankly. “Anyways… I had a friend who was born deaf. I was just curious how her people would have seen her if she was born in Khiz.”

I wonder if that’s why her brother and sister hated Cerila so much. Her brother once said she was a stain on their race… I can see why now. I should have slammed Celidon’s head harder.

“Your turn,” Veme said.

My eyes drifted towards Veme’s neck, and I couldn’t help but notice she didn’t have that on from the last time I saw her. A thin brown leather band was tied around her neck.

The leather didn’t appear to be anything special but a few tiny shards of orange and green jewels were embedded into the leather. The campfire illuminated the gems and gold stitching used to bring the whole piece together. It looked similar to a choker I once got for Cerila.

“Around your neck… what is that?” I asked.

Veme looked at me blankly, then tugged on the leather choker slightly. “A collar. Woof.”

Huh? Wait, is there really no deeper meaning behind it?! And why did she say woof? She didn’t make the noise an animal would make. She just said the word…

Veme blushed slightly and avoided her eyes while her wolf ears flattened down. “That was a joke…” Veme cleared her throat and stood up straight on the downed log. “I’m sorry… I have often been told that I am not very funny.”

Is this what people call kindred souls? Have I found one? Oh, Veme…

“Don’t worry. I’ve been told much the same…” I said more despondently than I intended.

Veme eyed me and smiled brightly. “I suppose you are a serious man. Perhaps being funny is not in the cards for us in this life.”

I nodded my head enthusiastically at her words. “Yes, yes, it appears to be that way. I’m just happy I finally found someone who understands my plight.”

“Plight… pl-i-ate… you say weird things, Voker. Even when I first met you, you said something strange. What was it… harm and foul?” Veme shrugged and waved her hand. “Anyways, I’m glad you and I have something in common. I tend to struggle with connecting with people.”

I chuckled to myself and scratched the back of my head. “Yes, very much so. I’m sorry about my earlier behavior…”

“It’s fine. I’m sure you have your reasons. And to answer your earlier question, the best way to describe this would be to compare it to a Human’s wedding band or ring,” she said while caressing the choker. “Are you familiar with that practice? I believe some Elves practice it as well, but they are mostly from the Holy Kingdom.”

Oh, my god… what have I done? She knew. They both did, didn’t they? That’s why Cerila acted the way she did… she understood and didn’t say anything to me… Mom…

You know what? Mom, you better hope I don’t see you anytime soon because we are going to have an earnest chat that you are not going to enjoy.

“Is something the matter, Voker?” Veme asked.

“Ah, it’s nothing. And yes, I’m aware of the practice… would there happen to be a certain way to go about it? Like a ritual of some sort?”

Veme grunted in the affirmative. “Once again, it’s similar to what Humans do. My mate approached me with the offer, and I accepted it.”

Mate?! Please… my heart… use more friendly words, Veme…

“Ah… yes, I got that much. But uh, your mate? How exactly did he go about it?” I asked, unable to hide my embarrassment.

Veme narrowed her eyes at me. “I do not understand what you are asking me,” she stated flatly.

“For example, typically the Human asking to marry the other Human will take a knee and offer the ring, yes? Then if the Humans agree, the asker slides the ring onto the askee’s finger. For you, was it like that?”

Please tell me it’s all a big misunderstanding….

Veme smiled and nodded with her eyes closed. “Yes, it’s very much like that. Upon my agreement, my mate placed this around my neck, and well…” Veme blushed and looked away. “I would rather spare you the details, Voker… sorry…”

Shit. Mom… I always knew you were a witch…

Cerila… why didn’t you say something to me! The image of a furiously blushing Cerila played back in my mind. I can’t believe I did that… I want to crawl into a hole and die.

I didn’t know what I was doing and I never imagined doing that to Cerila. So why did she even agree? Was it because she was just going with the flow? Did she see through me and just went along because she knew that I didn’t understand? Or…

If I wasn’t taken from the village… would I have that kind of relationship with Cerila? Would things have happened like that? More importantly, would I have ever wanted that… so much has happened between now and then… I… I don’t know…

Sylvia rustled in her sleeping bag, and I turned around to face her. Her dark blue eye was glaring at me. “Go to bed, Voker.’

Why does she sound angry?

“It’s fine, I’m not even tired, and you have a few more hours—”

“Go. To. Bed.”

“Okay…”