The chief gestured to the door. “Right this way. To the tavern!” he said, pumping his arms into the air.

The first thing Veil noticed upon exiting the building were the rumbling whispers from all around, and all of them spoke on the same topic: the beast master. The town itself must be huge.

He must have been making a face because the chief sniggered. “Word travels fast. Especially when we get a visitor such as yourself.

Veil remained silently stunned, stuck in his tracks by how important he seemed here. Back in the real world, he was nothing but a forgotten person, too stuck in his own grief to be worth anything to anyone. But here, he was some kind of hero, some warrior of lore. There was a prophecy, and the hero was at the center of it all. I should be more concerned by all of this. But my purpose seems to have given me a new… I don’t know… purpose, a new lease on life.

Veil noticed Tank had fallen back as well. He turned to his companion. “Are you coming, bud?”

No, I have no need of food at the moment, but I would like to scout if that is okay with you.

“Yeah, man, go for it,” Tank said with a sigh.

Thank you. If I sense you’re in need, I will come back at once.

Veil looked back at the chief who was shuffling the dirt from the path with his feet. He was looking as impatient as he could without actually vibrating. “I should get to it then. Have fun and don’t cause any trouble, okay?”

I would never besmirch your honor. He turned away, wandering off.

“Are you okay?” the chief asked, noticing Veil had fallen behind.

“Yeah, I am fine. I was just thinking,” Veil replied.

“You’re worried? You won’t be able to achieve victory? That you won’t live up to the prophecy or even that you won’t live up to your own expectations?” the chief asked.

“Well, I wasn’t,” Veil joked.

“Sorry,” the chief said with a smirk. “It’s what I would be worried about if I were you. And in all honesty, it’s something I fear every day as the village chief and as the elder.”

“Hmm,” Veil thought aloud. “Honestly, I was wondering why I am not more stressed about all of this. I mean, yesterday I was a nobody. Today I’m some kind of savior. I feel like I should be scared or having a panic attack or something, but honestly…” Veil paused again.

“Honestly?” the chief asked.

“Honestly, I feel alive,” Veil said with a nod.

“Good, let’s continue. To the tavern!” The chief pumped his arms into the air again, his voice getting louder as he said each of the words until it was nearly a battle cry.

“You seem excited,” Veil chuckled.

“You have no idea how rarely I get to venture into the village. My day begins and ends with my duties,” the chief said.

“So, you’re the leader, but you’re basically trapped?” Veil asked pensively.

“I wouldn’t say trapped, really, but my duties require me to be readily available for anyone who would be in need of my services,” the chief said.

“So what…” Veil paused, considering his next sentence carefully. “So what you’re saying is your duty prevents you from truly being free?”

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The chief thought for a second before answering. “We all have our duties. Mine keeps me here, and yours will send you to the very edges of the realm. Both are very important, and we are both bound by honor to achieve some semblance of success in our duties. But look around. Everyone here is bound by duty, and we all have our purpose. Look around at the children—their job is to grow strong and to gain the knowledge of those before them.” The chief pointed to the children playing in the clearing at the city center. Their giggles brought a pang of joy to Veil’s very core. “To the smiths,” the chief continued, the ping of a hammer falling upon an anvil sounded from somewhere afar. “The bakers, the healers, the warriors, and more. Look around, Veil. Everyone here is happy with their purpose, and I hope you will be as well,” the chief finished with a half-smile. He reached over to pat Veil on the shoulder as they stopped in front of a building.

“And we’re here!” the chief said, holding his arms open. “You are going to love this. We have a selection of the finest brews from around the world. We trade with many, and our village is one of the only safe havens between the capital and the sea. So many traders come through here.” He grabbed Veil’s arm and led him into the tavern. Veil expected the tavern that had been so hyped up to be full to the brim, but the only other person there was a beautiful orcish woman who Veil could only assume was the barmaid.

“Hey, Chief, what brings you here today?” she asked from behind the wooden bar.

“Hey, Griselda,” the chief said, pushing Veil in front of him as though he was showing him off. “I’ve brought the beast master. He requires much food and drink. As do I.”

She looked Veil up and down for a moment. “He doesn’t look like much, does he?” she said, turning. “But if you are sure, I will trust your opinion of him.”

“Hey!” Veil said, offended.

“I will be nothing to you but honest,” she said, bowing before opening a door and disappearing into the back of the tavern.

“She seems lovely,” Veil said.

“She is,” the chief said with a smirk.

A few short moments later, Griselda returned with two bowls of some kind of stew and two nearly overflowing mugs of ale. “This smells heavenly,” Veil said.

“It tastes even better. Griselda is the best cook in all of Nova,” the chief said.

Veil took a small spoonful of the stew and took a tentative bite. The flavors swam on his tongue as if they were alive. “Th- This is amazing,” Veil said with a gasp before diving fully into his meal and taking a few gulps out of his mug. “And this beer, it’s divine! It must be the nectar of the gods themselves.”

The chief chuckled at Veil’s enthusiasm. “Eat, young one,” the chief said.

Not much later, as Veil finished his second bowl of stew, the door of the tavern flew open and in walked the orc that had killed Veil just a few short days before. Veil stood so swiftly he almost knocked his mug from the table, throwing his arms up in a defensive manner. As he did, the other man fell to his knees.

“Éǵh hésmi swé sḱholós pró nóstrós prísmos bhódhihs. Éǵh sḱholós, pléhtō per-dóhti mé.”

“Wait, what?” Veil said, confused. “What’s going on?”

The chief stood. “He is apologizing for his actions.”

The man spoke again. “Éǵh wergóm kwe pró tod kom-óidhōs. Pléhtō perdóhti mé.”

“He is asking for your forgiveness,” the chief translated.

“Pléhtō means please, then,” Veil pondered aloud.

“Yes,” the chief said with astonishment evident in his voice. “Perdóhti is forgive, and mé is me.”

“Is me?” Veil interrupted.

“Yes,” the chief said with a clap. “You’re amazing, Beast Master, simply amazing.”

“Can you tell him I have already forgiven him?” Veil asked.

“Of course,” the chief replied. “He perdóhti túbhi.”

“Can you ask him to stand?” Veil asked.

“Pléhtō stāhti,” the chief replied, helping Grok to his feet.

Grok reached out and pulled Veil into an embrace. “Déhnom túbhi,” he said.

Veil looked over to the chief, confused.

“He says thank you,” the chief replied.

“Thank you?” Veil asked, confused.

“Had you not accepted his apology, he would have been exiled,” the chief replied.

“Exiled?” Veil asked.

“Yes, exiled,” the chief replied. “We are a trading community. Our survival relies on our allies.”

“Your survival?” Veil replied.

“Yes, our survival. You like to repeat things don’t you?” the chief laughed. “Let me ask you this. As you walked around our village walls, did you see any farms?” Veil shook his head. “That’s because our land, although beautiful, cannot supply us with nourishment.”

“Oh,” Veil said. “Can you tell him not to worry about it? I am okay. Even though he is sorry, he has nothing to be sorry about. I find great honor in him protecting his village, and that he should be proud of his actions,” Veil finished in a single breath.

“He wekwé tubhí esti ǵhórdhos wíros kwe ghebheti nē dus menóm túbhi,” the chief said to Grok.

Grok dropped to his knees again looking up at Veil, body relaxed. “Éǵh bondhóm méme túbǵh bondhóm méme túbhi déǵhom wéǵhom,” Grok expressed with sincerity.

“Pléhtō dédi mé sokwē túbhi.. Esti tú sérowos?” the chief asked.

“Éǵh esti,” Grok replied with conviction. “He bhéreti mé kwe dhhti méyos hyus.”

“Esti tú sérowos?” the chief reiterated.

“Hé,” Grok affirmed with a nod.

“Kwis,” the chief replied solemnly, then turned back to Veil. “H-he has vowed his life to you. He wishes for you to take him as a sworn one.

“A sworn one?” Veil asked humbly.

“Yes, he will be sworn to you. He will fight by your side and he will become your brother,” the chief clarified.

“I accept,” Veil said, placing a hand on his heart and bowing his head to Grok.

“Hé sékweti túyos hésti bhuhtós bhréhtēr,” the chief said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hé,” Grok exclaimed, jumping into the air in celebration.