As Veil stepped through the entry of the chief’s chambers, he was greeted with an unwelcome scene: a nurse standing over the chief. His robe was open at the chest, and she was listening to what Veil assumed was his heart or his breathing through some form of rudimentary stethoscope.
“It all sounds fine. I’m not seeing what you’re telling me, sir, but you do have a guest, so I should go.” The nurse leaned up from her hunched position.
“Thank you for coming, Elise. Your thoughtful and quick response warms my heart. Be a dear and close the door on your way out. I wouldn’t want to catch a draft,” the chief said politely, waving off the nurse.
The nurse shuffled off and closed the door behind her.
Veil was unsure of how to proceed, his words escaping him momentarily. He started and stopped speaking several times until the chief spoke up.
“I’ve been feeling a little under the weather recently. My movements have seemed sluggish to me, but the doctors and even Elise have been telling me I’m fine. Maybe I’m being a little, I don’t know, old?” the chief finished.
“You’re fine, then?” Veil asked.
“Yeah, I suppose I am,” the chief said.
“That’s great news,” Veil said humbly.
“Anyways, do you know why I asked you here today?” the chief asked while shakily standing up.
“I’m guessing it has to do with the trials tomorrow,” Veil replied.
“Yes and no,” the chief replied. “We’ve been watching you over the last six months.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Veil said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. His hair had gotten long over his time in Nova, with no barber in sight. So had his beard, which he had been succumbing to the urge to scratch thoughtfully when he ran out of things to say or just needed a second to think.
The chief cleared his throat in annoyance. “As I was saying before being interrupted, we’ve been watching you and have come to a decision.”
“A decision on—?” Veil asked leadingly.
“On your place in the village and whether or not we would be deeming you the true beast master.”
“Oh,” Veil replied sullenly, peering down at his feet to avoid the gaze of the chief. “And what did you decide?”
“We’ve decided, win or not tomorrow, you are the beast master. The hero of lore. And to further that, your mastery of our language and how hard you’ve worked to prove yourself to us has endeared you to the clan. You will receive your clan tattoo after trials, and from then on, no matter where you are, everyone will know you are truly one of us. And even more importantly, you will be known to everyone as a great warrior,” the chief said with a vigor Veil hadn’t seen in the elderly man.
“Clan tattoo?” Veil asked.
“Yes, clan tattoo,” the chief replied.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“You all have clan tattoos?”
“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed?” the chief said, raising his eyebrows.
“I mean, I’ve noticed you all have tattoos,” Veil said, pointing to the chief’s ear, which had a sprawling tattoo strewn across it in red ink.
“Oh yes, that one marks me as an elder,” the chief replied.
“What will mine represent?” Veil asked.
“Just as I’ve said, that you’re a great warrior of the Ketchi clan, your clan, and that you’re the beast master.”
“Wait, that’s two,” Veil realized, grasping his ears as if to hide them from sight.
Chuckling, the chief replied, “It doesn’t have to be your ears. Most people tend to go for somewhere a little lower.” Veil unconsciously covered his groin. “No, son, not there,” the chief said, this time his chuckle turned into a rich, deep belly laugh, which caused Veil to blush. “The wrist, son. The wrist is where most people get their first set of tattoos.”
“Oh,” Veil replied, his embarrassment deepening.
“Also, son, there is magic in the tattoos. Each job has their own, and if you’re ever in trouble, we will know. Whenever you’re in danger, we will feel it. And that path goes both ways. You’ll feel us in your heart for all time moving forward. But more than that, we can bolster your magic and you us. This is very important. Will you accept the tattoo, son?” the chief asked.
“Why do you keep calling me son?” Veil asked inquisitively. “I mean, I don’t mind, but you’ve not called me son before.”
“I haven’t?” the chief asked, scratching his chin.
“Not that I remember,” Veil replied.
“Oh, well, you are my son now. All of the men and women of the village are my family, although I’ve only truly taken in two children myself. As you see, I do not have a wife.”
“Wait, really?” Veil said with a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Not like that, dummy,” the chief replied.
“Ah huh, you stud,” Veil replied, elbowing the chief in his rotund tummy.
“Grok hasn’t told you, has he?” the chief asked.
“Told me?” Veil asked.
“We are incapable of reproduction. We are hybrids,” the chief replied.
“Incap- of- re-?” Veil stuttered the words out. “Hybrids?”
“Yes, our line comes from the interbreeding of elves and fairies. I assumed you’d know,” the chief replied.
“But I’ve seen children,” Veil replied.
“Yes, there are many fairies who are deemed very handsome, and elves—well, you have the lore of their beauty on your home world, do you not?”
“Yeah,” Veil said with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Many of the fairies try to keep us, but by age three, we are way too large for their cities. Grok is the only one of us who really knows our true parents. His father was a fairy king and had enough money and time to have accommodations built to make up for his ever-growing size, but eventually, even he was cast out,” the chief replied.
“So you’re saying you step in and—what? Take care of everyone?”
“We are all a family,” the chief replied. “I may have only taken in one child before this moment.”
“And I’m the second?” Veil replied with a smile.
“You are my second one. You’ll be tied to me as Grok is tied to you. We will be family.”
“I accept,” Veil blurted out.
“That’s amazing to know. I was worried you wouldn’t accept. I know you have a family back home.” It was the chief’s turn to look sullen as he peered at his own feet. “I am honored that you would take me as your clan father.”
“I no longer have a family back on Earth,” Veil replied, expecting—no, dreading—the depression from his past to smash into him, to pull him back into a dark place. He even waited a moment for it to happen, but Veil only felt numbness where that pain had resided in his chest.
The sensation briefly bothered him, but then, as quickly as it came on, it felt as though it was ripped right out of his chest.
“I’m honored for you to deem me worthy of becoming your son. I won’t let you down,” Veil replied quickly. A single tear ran down his face as he bowed.
“I am honored to call you my son, beast master,” the chief replied, walking over to put his hand on Veil’s shoulder. “And I am proud of you.”
“Pro- proud of me?” Veil replied under his breath.
“Yes, son, proud,” the chief replied, wiping a tear from his own face. “Now let us get some food and mead. All of these emotions have made me hungry for a drink,” which caused Veil to laugh.
“Yeah, let’s go. Do you think it’s too early for Gris to serve us alcohol?” Veil asked.
“Under the circumstances, I’m sure she will make an exception to the rule. If not, I am the chief. I can throw my weight around if need be,” he said with a wink before sauntering over to the door and holding it open, gesturing for Veil to go first.
They spent the rest of the day by the fire of the hearth of the tavern Gris served the chief freely but cut Veil off after his first drink. Which was probably for the best considering the upcoming event. Veil didn’t know what to expect tomorrow but knew it would be an adventure nonetheless he was nervous. Something told him tomorrow would truly be the first day of the rest of his life.