“How long do you think you can stay here?” I asked.

“We only need to return to our homelands to prepare food for the winter. There is plenty of time to spend here with you, great one,” said an elder from one of the human tribes.

“I told you, call me Cas,” I said.

“But—” began the elder.

“Trust me, Konri, you should just find something else to call him. He absolutely refuses to be endeared,” said elder Kezler.

“What do you call him?” she asked.

“Teacher!” he said.

“And how is that not endearing?” she asked.

“It is,” he said, “but he taught me magic, so it’s true!”

I sighed. It was strange how hard they insisted on not calling me by my name. You’d think they’d listen to what their ‘great one’ was saying, but I guess it wasn’t as important as addressing me respectfully. I had to stop myself from insisting too hard, because I figured I’d already messed up by not understanding and respecting the customs of the peoples of this world. Maybe I could think of something else. The younger tribesmen respected their elders, right? How did they address them?

“How about adding a title with my name?” I said. “The other tribesmen call you all elder so and so, right? Like elder Lipo and elder Brol. Maybe you could call me Elf Cas, or something.”

“That is a reasonable compromise,” said elder Brol, the purple haired elder of the Brol tribe. “How about Great One Cas?”

I flinched. “No, no more great one, or venerated, or whatever it was that elder Lipo tried to call me.”

“But the Spicy One is the greatest title in the history of my tribe!” said the blue haired elder Lipo, of the Pole tribe.

“It… doesn’t translate well in my language,” I said.

“Your translation magic is impressive, Spicy One,” said elder Lipo, “but perhaps we could teach you our language, too. Or learn yours!”

“That’s a good idea,” I said, “but even if I learned your language, I won’t accept a title like that one.”

The old man began to pout, which meant his lips began to look just like the drooping wrinkles on his forehead. The corner of my mouth twitched, and I decided to ignore the blue haired goofball for now. As I was about to continue my conversation with the other, less eccentric elders, Kelser came up to me and handed me some breakfast. Grilled monster meat, again. I definitely had to spread more creative ways of cooking food, soon.

I offered the meat around to the other elders sitting on stones and logs in a circle outside my tent. I’d gathered the senior elders from each tribe, and made this place a sort of meeting place. Elder Kezler told me most meetings between the elders were held at the pit in Bek Tepe, but I told him that sounded too formal for what I had in mind. After all, the only thing we’d talked about so far this morning was about what the humans should call me. We’d get onto more important topics after I’d had something to eat, and after I’d made these old men and women address me more informally.

When I offered the meat to elder Sommi Nare, who was the mother of the groom from the ceremony last night, she almost fell over herself trying to graciously refuse. I sighed as I began eating my breakfast. The elder of the Nare tribe, who had seemed at first like a steely, reserved character, had completely lost her self control and discipline after my conversation with her last night.

It wasn’t like I’d done anything major, anyway. All I’d done was forgive her tribe, and tell all the elders that I didn’t like the idea of dishonored tribes. The most I’d done was tell the elders to spread my dislike of the term within their tribes, and to let them know that all was forgiven. To me, collectively punishing the entire tribe because of the actions of some of its members was strange and unusual, so ‘forgiving’ them didn’t feel like a big deal. But apparently, it had been enough to make an elderly woman with paper thin skin break down in front of her own son and daughter in law. I still had a lot to learn about the people of this world, I admitted to myself.

“You know what,” I said, deciding it was time to steer the conversation towards what I actually wanted to talk about. “Let’s go with what I know has worked in the past. All of you can call me Teacher Cas.”

“But they can’t do that,” said Elder Kezler, quickly. “You aren’t their teacher!”

“Then I guess it’s time to fix that,” I said. The elders’ eyes went wide. “You said you don’t have to return to your homes, yet, right? While you’re here, I might as well teach you some magic. I won’t have the time to teach you how to make tools and weapons like the ones we made with the Roja tribe, but we can definitely fix that horrible magic of yours. I’ll need to work a little harder on you, though.” I said, looking at the bald headed middle aged man who had been avoiding my gaze all morning.

The last remaining priest of the human Jora tribe, Priest Mal flinched when I looked at him. He began reflexively apologizing, at which point elder Kezler smacked him in the head like I’d told him to. I didn’t want people apologizing over and over again. Didn’t I already forgive their tribes and stuff? Seriously, being a venerated pseudo-deity was tiresome.

“I’ll get the Roja tribe to supervise your lessons,” I said. “But let’s gather everyone at the pit around lunchtime. It’s time for your first lecture!”

---

After the morning meeting, I followed Elder Sommi back to her tribe’s camp. The Nare tribe’s camp was pretty close to the Roja tribe’s camp, so I had Kelser grab me some leftover copper from his tribe. A wall of onlookers gathered around as I approached the Nare tribe’s camp, in a scene that was pretty similar to the way last night’s festivities had died down when people saw me. I mused if this was going to happen every time I met the humans of this world.

I noticed Kirs, the young man from last night, was not in the crowd. Elder Sommi led me to her son’s tent, where he was packing up his stuff with pieces of hide. Apparently, although I’d forgiven his tribe, the couple still decided to move to the wife’s Imm tribe. Even his mother, elder Sommi, had supported the decision. Turns out, Kirs was a terrible mama’s boy. Everybody thought he’d been spoiled by his mother, and wanted him to try living without her protection so he could grow up a little.

Even though it meant my grand gesture from last night had been undermined, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I made sure they weren’t doing it because the social stigma around the dishonored tribes hadn’t gone away, but they insisted that wasn’t the reason. The wife, Kann, even offered that the couple move to her father’s Jenin tribe, which was also one of the dishonored tribes, to prove it to me, but I told them they should just do what made them happy.

Unlike last night, elder Sommi made a great show of telling Kirs to hurry up and leave. It seemed like she’d let her emotions out last night, but was sure this was the right thing for the young man’s personal development. It reminded me a little of the way my mom had been sad to see me go to college, but happy to see me becoming more independent and self-assured.

And so I Kirs to his new tribe, the Imm, whose camp was on the far side of the little encampment above Bek Tepe. Elder Sommi stayed behind, while Kelser accompanied me. Kelser had been tagging along wherever I went, and I was happy to have his company. He was still the only human who called me my name, with no title, and with Noel gone, he felt like the only real friend I had here.

A crowd formed around the Imm tribe’s camp as I approached. I sighed to myself, but followed the dejected Kirs until he met his wife, Kann. I saw the way his face lit up when he saw her. The way he ran up to her and hugged her like the two were all alone in a movie, and held my face in my head as the two lovebirds seemed to completely forget about everybody around them.

Convinced that Kirs, the mama’s boy, would be fine, I thanked the other members of the Imm tribe, especially their purple haired elder Mann Imm, and left for the pit with Kelser.

“Hey Kelser,” I said.

“What is it Cas?” said the red haired boy.

“If I ever fall in love like that, make sure to smack me in the head,” I said.

“You don’t want to fall in love?” he asked.

“I do,” I said. “I just think it’s funny to get hit in the head when your eyes are all starry and bright. Don’t you?”

“You sound like a grumpy old man,” he said.

I tried to flick the boy’s ear, but he jumped out of the way. I grumbled as he laughed. I swore I’d give him a ton of work to do to wipe that annoying smirk off his face.