Casamir observed the fairies who had taken him captive. They were speaking in their native language, which he didn’t understand. It was night, and he sat in front of a fire, his hands bound. They had given his wife, Anya, some sort of drug, and she appeared to be sleeping. 

If they killed her, I will burn this whole forsaken village to the ground. Casamir thought to himself. 

A fairy with an extravagant headdress approached him and knelt next to him. He babbled something at him in his native tongue. Casamir made a face. These savages… they are far removed from Maribel fairies, and much further removed from dragons. 

He looked around at their village. Lizard corpses were hanging from huts, drying out; pigs were cooking above spitfires, and all the men and women were wearing loin cloths. Casamir turned his nose up at them. To think I was once one of them. It is so greater to become dragon.

“Do you speak a civilized language?” Casamir said drolly. “Common, perhaps? Ancient Maribelan? The fairy language sounds like you are on the verge of heaving.” 

The fairy with the extravagant headdress scowled at him. “Hungrin understand some Common. Maribelan fairy the rude, awful one, not Hungrin. Hungrin offer Maribelan fairy and pet dragon as sacrifices to the Fairy Goddesses.” 

“I think not.” Casamir said sardonically. “Hungrin would do better to make Casamir a warrior. Hungrin recognize dark magic?” 

Casamir’s eyes, ears, and mouth burst with black magic and Hungrin stumbled backwards in shock. “Arrozan!” he yelled. 

Everyone else in the village turned their head and observed Casamir. They instinctively bowed their heads in something that looked like reverie. Casamir cocked a smile. “They seem to know how useful I am. Induct me into your tribe, and you will see victory. We may even conquer Maaris together.”

Hungrin stroked his red beard. “Maybe… if Arrozan serious, Arrozan adopt Maaris fairy culture, not Maribelan.” 

Casamir’s eyes twitched in annoyance, but he swallowed his pride. “Very well.” 

“Prove yourself a Maarisan fairy, and Arrozan fairy will be allowed to live. Train dragon to fight for us, as well.” Hungrin replied.

Casamir bit back his anger at the man asking him to train his mate. “It will be done. If you wake my… pet, I can promise you she will not harm you, and will only work to help us rule your kingdom.” 

A slow smile came to Hungrin’s face. “First, fairy prove himself loyal.” 

Casamir had to resist punching him in the face. “Fine. How do I start?”

“Hungrin tribe raid tribe to the south. Arrozan come with him.” 

Casamir nodded slowly. “Let’s go.” 

“First, Arrozan eat and rest with Hungrin tribe. Hungrin teach cultureless fairy Maarisan fairy culture.” Hungrin said.

I have my own culture, fool. Casamir thought to himself furiously. Aloud he said, “Sure.”

He followed Hungrin through the village to one of the spitfires. All of the villagers joined them there. Casamir looked around at the Maarisan fairies. All of them had such a different look compared to Maribelan fairies. Their noses were flatter rather than pointed, their hair rougher, their chins bigger, and foreheads more pronounced. Their faces were covered in tattoos, their ears and faces pierced. Casamir could hardly believe they were the same race.

Hungrin spoke in native fairy language, gesturing at Casamir wildly. Casmir listened closely, committing some of the words he used to memory, to try and translate them later. 

“Tehanu.” Hungrin said, pointing at Casamir. To Casamir he said, “Tehanu mean outsider.” 

Casamir’s eyes narrowed. He tapped his cheek wordlessly. “I see. What else are you babbl–talking about.” 

Hungrin grinned, standing up and motioning wildly. Casamir picked out the words Tehanu and Arrozan a few more times, and then he said to Casamir, “You need a tattoo. But first, you must earn the right to it. Arrozan boy come with us on raid, and then we will determine a talent for you. After that, we will give you an appropriate tattoo.”

Casamir inclined his head. “I’m ready to go.” 

“There’s one thing before that. We must induct you into tribe.” Hungrin said. 

“What does that require?” Casamir asked. 

Hungrin grabbed a ladle and retrieved soup from a nearby pot. He returned and held it in front off Casamir’s face. Casamir turned his nose up at the smell. “What is it?”

“Drink it.” Hungrin said simply. 

Casamir drank it without a second thought. He knew it wouldn’t be poisoned--he was too valuable for the tribe to kill, and he had seen other young fairy males drinking it. His vision began spinning, however, and he began seeing things that he wasn’t sure were really there. He heard music–flutes and drums–and found himself being drawn to his feet into a dance. Odd sounds emitted from his throat, and some of the unwed women in the tribe danced with him. 

He pushed them away and growled. Dragons need only one mate. 

His mind became lucid. He relaxed completely. His tight muscles unknotted, a natural smile was glued to his face–so much so that it began to hurt. Words tumbled out his mouth without inhibition, and when he began to gain control of his faculties again, he went to sleep shortly afterwards.