As Veil waited, he took the time to look around the large chamber he found himself in. There were no tapestries or even art adorning the high walls, but there was an empty desk just in front of the door. Behind the desk sat a dainty green woman who was staring at him unabashedly, mouth agape.

As Veil waited tank ran up tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. It is unkind to not wake me when you’re clearly going to go galavanting around. Tank said.

What are you talking about? Veil replied

You left me in that infirmary all by myself. A wolf is only as good as his pack! Tank replied

Isn’t it your job to pay attention to my movements. Veil said with a smirk.

Anyways. Tank replied what did I miss?

“What do you think, Tank?” Veil asked, not realizing he’d been staring at the girl and not looking around as he thought he were.

No judgment here, but she is not my type. I prefer my mates to be of the feline persuasion, but I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing, we are soul-bound, so I will pass no judgment upon you. But just know some would look down on you if you took an orcin wife, Tank replied.

“What? No!” Veil sputtered. “About this whole thing. “About the prophecy, about this place.”

Oh, that. Yes, well, every culture and every clan that has traversed into my territory has prayed to their own deity or mumbled an oath under their breath as they became prey. And upon their deaths, so who knows? You do smell different than everyone I’ve encountered thus far. You’re far more powerful; it’s as though you were meant for much bigger things. It is wholeheartedly why I hunted you down. So maybe take this seriously when they call you in.

“Of course I will be taking this seriously,” Veil said, turning back towards the woman before pausing and looking back at his companion. “Wait, did you say you prefer your mates to be of the feline persuasion?”

The heart wants what the heart wants, the wolf replied with what could only be described as a smirk.

“You’re weird,” Veil replied.

Veil looked back at the pretty orc woman. “Hello, I am Veil, and you are?” he asked in a feeble attempt at small talk, knowing all too well she likely didn’t speak English. Her eyes glossed over and her lips took on a swooning smile as she realized he was speaking to her. The sight made Veil chuckle out loud, and he tried again. “Hello,” he said with a semi-confident smirk. This time, she spoke back to him.

“Dhéǵhoms dhḗǵhtor,” she said with a deep and heavy sigh as she turned her head to the side, blushing.

“Wait, I recognize that word,” Veil said aloud, astonished as he realized he recognized a word from the language he had just heard for the first time a few short hours ago.

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You do? Tank cocked his head to the side.

“Yes, the old lady said it, and so did the chief. It means ‘beast tamer’.”

Are you sure? Tank asked.

“Yes.”

The door opened behind him, and the chief stuck his head out. “They will see you now,” he said with an air of reverence, his words barely above a whisper.

Veil spun on his heels, making his way to the door. Although the interaction was innocent, Veil felt as though he had been caught doing something naughty, and his cheeks burned.

He found himself in a long hallway with no windows and a door at the far end. In the dimly lit corridor, the only decoration was several suits of armor standing sentry along the path.

As they walked through the corridor, the chief told Veil of the lore behind each suit of armor. Just before they reached the door, he stopped and took on a very serious tone. “She’s very pretty, isn’t she?” the chief asked.

“What? Who?” Veil sputtered, feeling the blush return to his cheeks. He turned his head so the chief couldn’t see his face.

“It’s okay. I was once young as well,” the chief chuckled as he put his hand on the door handle. “Don’t think too much and don’t lie. They can sense lies. Always be honest.”

“Women or the elders?” Veil asked, making a sullen face.

“Yes,” the chief said, pushing the door open, revealing a sprawling circular room. It was dark, with only a few candles lit within. Along the walls, Veil could make out four large throne-like chairs, with three filled.

“This is where I leave you,” the chief said, walking up to the empty chair and sitting down.

“Wait, you’re an elder?” Veil asked.

“How do you think one becomes a chief?” he asked with a wink.

“Welcome, beast tamer,” the chief proclaimed.

“Beast tamer, Tu weyd kwis tu hésti hén?” another elder asked.

“I’m sorry,” Veil said. “I only know, like, two of those words.”

The chief cleared his throat loudly, calling attention to himself and causing everyone in the room to turn and look at him. “He asked if you’re aware of why you have been called to speak with us. Since you do not know our language yet, I will translate for you.”

“Tu hésti hén dhéǵhomdi kéti wéy potis deykw kwi tu hésti wertós so títlos üf beast tamer?” the elder that was sitting in the center of the room asked.

“He said you are here for us to decide if you’re worthy of the title of beast tamer,” the chief said nonchalantly, waving his hands as he spoke. “I think that it is trivial, as you’ve already proven yourself, and Thack is simply being overly precautious. His prihwós hḗti so títlos,” the chief said, leaning forward and looking to the other elders.

“Éǵh ménti, widéti ád his; his smóikw hésti so ǵhm̥hón kwodkwih,” the female elder said from the left-hand side.

“Kwe íbhi so murmurós bhérdheti hésti his ne hésti so wérsōs méghis so mághos,” the man closest to the elder replied.

“Tó dekidóm, His proksnéhti séwé kóm so tribós, His legh-eti werét, Kwe his werǵéti wósóm, Kwód héstóm bhérdheti hésti méǵhs His hésti dhr̥ghós récipíents of so títlos,” the chief responded to the others in the room.

“Konwídōs,” the elders chorused together.

“Wait, what just happened?” Veil asked.

“We have decided that to truly become the beast tamer, you must first become one of us. You must live as we do, eat what we eat, but most importantly, you must learn to fight. You cannot become a warrior of lore if you’re not a warrior,” the chief replied.

“Do I get any say in this?” Veil asked, kicking at the ground.

“No, not really,” the chief replied. “If you fail, you’ll die, and if you refuse, we will be forced to remove you from the village. And even with your beast, you’ll likely die.”

The comment made Tank growl loudly. He jumped up from his resting place and lunged in front of Veil.

“It’s okay, buddy. I don’t think that was a threat, was it, Chief?”

“Not at all,” the chief responded. “There are many beasts in the area surrounding us, and if anything, your fight with Grok has taught us that you’re not prepared enough to be on your own. But we offer you a way to fix that. We offer to make you a warrior. We offer you food. We offer to take you in and offer shelter. But more than any of that, we offer to take you into our ranks and make you one of us.”

“Oh, then I accept your offer,” Veil said with a bow of his head.

“Great,” the chief responded. “Then we shall eat. Let us go,” the chief said, slapping his knee and getting up. He swiftly made his way to the door.

Did he say food? Tank asked, running over to the chief.

“It looks like someone’s hungry,” the chief said with another chuckle as he turned, making his way back into the hall.