About the time of Jadal’s conquest, Bosite (II) came to the river Larden, east of the Sapphire Hills, and west of Yiffen Forest, the dark wood that engulfed light and sound, and held the Bog of Glampus, somewhere north within its domain. Accompanying him were three of the strongest beastly bears he had bred, armored and strapped with leather harnesses to carry back large game from his first hunt of the Spring. He spied a young maiden on the other side of the thawed river, among the budding water lilies and wildflowers stretching out to worship the rays of the sun. The maiden knew nothing of Bosite’s presence, as she removed her shawl, leather armor, and outer layers of clothing. The markings upon her flesh, spread in an array of dark symmetry down her shoulders and legs, leaving Bosite pondering. No clan in the region claimed such patterns, signifying her identity as an outcast. For many lived in tribes of their own near the river, keeping their distance from the more established clans.

He watched her, his heart pounding violently seeing her skin glistening like bronze stirred with gold, hair ashen like silver glass, and a physique that could wrestle a boar. She swam out to the middle of the leisurely flow yet chilling ripples, suddenly taking notice of Bosite standing beneath a tree along the bank with his three bears. Her smile appeared welcoming to him and she awaited his presence, undoubtedly holding curiosity of his large scars running along his torso and thighs.

His beard unweaved the dirt clumps that were entangled from long days of tracking his prey as he dove in, and the stench of animal blood and hide became cleansed as he returned above the water’s surface. Seeing his long tails of hair and dangerous eyes drenched in the river shot anticipation down the maiden’s spine, though her greeting did not reveal such a thing transpired.

“Only one man I’ve heard travels with a pack of bears,” she said. “You must be the one called Bosite.”

“My reputation has once more preceded me,” Bosite replied, swimming alongside her, not hiding his gander in the least. “It is almost a shame as I once held a bit of mystery to my name. Though I am much more interested in learning another thing that is hidden.”

“And what is this mystery you wish to know,” the woman asked, not hiding her prying eyes either.

“Your name, of course,” Bosite smiled. “I saw you swimming in the river, and I had never seen such a beautiful creature before in these waters. Imagine my surprise that I learned it to be of my own kind.”

“Flattering,” the maiden chuckled. “But should you wish to truly know the answer to your mystery, then be truthful with me. Did you not see me undress hither upon the far side?”

“If I were to be divinely truthful, I saw you before you undressed,” Bosite sighed, his gaze locked with hers. “And though I have fought and tamed many bears, I could not tame my eyes to cease from being drawn to you. I felt it would be better to die than to turn away.”

“What makes you believe you are worthy to look upon me?” The maiden teased.

“Never worthy,” Bosite reached out and gently grasped her hand. “For what man deserves to see the sun paint the skies of the morn and evening? How does a man deserve to set his sights on the stars above, or have the light of the moon ignite the skies to keep his feet from stumbling? How does one deserve the fires of passion to keep his heart beating with a fervent song that brings life to his bones?”

“My name is Agatha,” the woman spoke, her eyes pulsing and her voice trembling.

“Agatha,” Bosite sighed. “That is a beautiful name for a star.”

Settling first in the small dwelling Agatha had made by the river, their first offspring were twins, Nayla and Belmore, a girl and boy, who grew to be two years old with a natural love for the forest, and Bosite began teaching them how to tame bears. Nayla took to a better understanding of her father’s instructions while Belmore remained untamed, desiring more to challenge the cubs to wrestling matches.

When word spread that the mighty Bosite (II) —the Great Tamer of Beasts—had taken an outcast for his bride and bred with her, many who bore similar markings drew near him, pledging their loyalty to him. Such a thing enraged the clan of his birth and more who dwelt in the Sapphire Hills. The threat of war pushed Bosite and his family deeper into Yiffen forest, where the sun feared to shine through, and unknown beasts stalked in the dark.

“We shall build high above,” Bosite told Agatha. “We shall live among the trees. That way, whatever hunts us, beast or man, will remain beneath our feet and unable to ambush us.”

The massive trees of the forest posed no hindrance for his bears to climb with timber cut and chiseled for building among the branches. Dwellings were carved into the trees and built among the walkways that transcended high into the canopy of the forest. And to the pleasant surprise of completing such a deed, Bosite found the sun’s light and integrated its beams into clear shards of glass, transferring the beams downward into the entire village, illuminating everything as if dressed in starlight.

Many of the outcasts had followed him and assisted in creating the grand structures, and many more would follow with news of the clans hunting down any who bore markings not of a clan. They spoke of children being butchered and families taken to become slaves, which drew Bosite to rage and bewilderment.

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“I swear, I shall find a way to defeat them,” he told Agatha one night. Their home glistened in the moonlight, full and radiant like the night sky. “Yet they know what I have taught them. Now they use it against me and my family. They hunt down the innocent who know only shame and ostracism. I doubt they will cease—they only understand power.”

The cries of Bosite and Agatha’s next offspring came from a boy, whom Agatha named Ripshaul. For his eyes were noticeably green and appeared more like a serpent’s than a human’s. Occupied at the time, Bosite had gathered several to ride north to seek game—reaching the Bog of Glampus upon their bear steeds. In such a desolate place of muck and mire, fog and mist, Bosite spied a bear creature, where the sun’s rays had dared to peek through, lighting up its reddish fur and abominable size.

“Riding such a beast would terrify any who would oppose me,” he thought. “The question is, how do I tame such a thing?”

Those present did not follow him into the bog. Even his pack of three bears refused to face the creature.

“I know of no other way,” Bosite thought. “I have to believe in my gift and show no fear.”

His foolishness became apparent when the red beast began to charge. He let out a heavy sigh, seeing his life drawing to an end. However, as beasts are much more loyal than men, Bosite’s bears suddenly stood their ground in his defense, halting the red beast’s onslaught. The three roared, each challenging the red beast that easily outweighed all three. It appeared confused but did not back down, standing upright. Bosite’s bears did likewise, remaining in a standoff until the red beast surprisingly backed down. He turned to see the bears from the others in his hunting party had joined them, whether the warriors wanted to or not. Ten bears now stood against one, all in defense of the one who trained them.

“What are you, human?” a deep and resonant voice growled, striking a trembling sensation of fear up Bosite’s spine. More words followed, undoubtedly from the red beast, slow, and rumbling like the earth cracking open. “What odds you bring against me, much of my kind now tamed to do the bidding of men. Have you come to slay me and take my young as well?”

“Forgive me, but I am not aware bears can talk,” Bosite replied.

“I do not forgive, which is why I still live,” the red beast growled. “Answer what I have asked so that my curiosity may be quenched—so I may proceed in ripping your heart out.”

“I shall answer your question, but first you must answer mine,” Bosite bravely stepped forward, just a few paces in front of the line of bears, who now had no riders, as they had all fled. “Why is it when I was a cub, did your kind come and steal my sister away from me? Your kind began killing us long before any of your kind were tamed.”

“Your kind waged war amongst each other before that,” the red beast rumbled. “Much of our home became destroyed by you. The forests grew dark, filled with sorrow. The rivers tasted like the blood of men, where we once drank the fresh waters of the mountains. The land teemed with prey to fill our bellies until your kind slaughtered them to feed your armies, leaving my kin to starve. Then the days of your destruction slowed, and we hunted you so your kind would not grow into a plague upon the land again. So I ask again, what are you human?”

“The fields teem with life again because of us,” Bosite argued. “I know of the war you speak of that tore the land apart. It was my father who began hunting you, in vengeance, and I followed in his footsteps. One day, I came upon an orphan cub, and I chose pity. And from then, I began to train cubs…”

“Slaughtering their mothers to gain their trust,” the red beast interjected. “It is one way to enslave those who are a threat to your kind.”

“I took an outcast as my mate,” Bosite remained cascading his rhythm of unraveling his story. “Now my kind seeks to hunt me until none of us are left.”

“Why would you bind yourself to a mate with such contempt?” The red beast asked.

“Must I be punished for loving one who no one else will? Bosite answered. “I don’t believe, man or beast, should be forced to live in exile for being orphaned or illegitimately bred, and certainly not for failure to comply with clan tradition.”

“You would war against your own brethren to defend your resolve? Such is the nature of man,” the red beast said.

“No!” Bosite shot back. “I defend those who do not deserve the fate cast upon them. They should not have to hide from the world because of who they are. They are not…”

“Beasts?!” The bear creature growled. “Tell me, why does man hold greater weight over beast? It is survival, nothing more.”

“Then perhaps we begin surviving together,” Bosite sighed. “What if we, the outcasts become brethren of beasts? We avenge your deaths and so will you avenge us. In this way, we give one another permission to live and thrive in the land.”

“You would treat beasts as equals?” The bear creature sounded more curious than suspicious. “No longer would you hold them as steeds, but allow them to come and go as they wish?”

“Yes,” Bosite replied. “Even now, they are free to go. Yet we need them to fight with us, just as much as we need you.”

The red beast appeared to grin, and Bosite watched its form dwindle and its fur fell away to reveal a woman bare, skin blacker than oak, hair redder than the brightest rose, elongated ears drawn to a point, and eyes pulsing with the hues of red clay and starlight. Her slender form approached Bosite, who felt his knees buckle. The creature, who reached out to hold his face, knelt in front of his wide-eyed gaze.

“You will be the link between man and beast,” the creature spoke, just as before. “You will place a son in me, and your blood and mine will be one. Refuse, and your life is forfeit.”

The beastling came forth sooner than Bosite had anticipated. Though Agatha remained enraged by Bosite’s actions for a time, when she laid her eyes upon the beastling, she realized the powerful alliance her husband had made to ensure her line would live. And as it was, she took notice the beastling’s face appeared dominantly as her husband’s and she spoke blessings over it as she cradled it in her arms.

The red beast, now again prowling as a bear creature, had left the offspring in Bosite’s and Agatha’s care till it would come of age to learn the bestowed gifts of turning from man to beast. And the red beast gave the beastling the name Uscer, for it began in a vulnerable form and needed the aid of mankind to survive till its strength grew. Nayla and Belmore embraced both their siblings, Ripshaul and Uscer, calling them beastlings. For both appeared derived from animals rather than man.