Nasty Personality

After almost giving Jawe a heart attack and shocking the crowd until they turned silly, Allen didn't give them any more attention. Instead, he invited Nyell to come with him, ordering Myrven and Layla to stay behind, and they left without a regard for their baffled audience.

No one dared to utter a word, and it was only long after they were gone that a commotion erupted in the harbor. In a heartbeat, rumors spread throughout the settlement, and an effervescence never seen before bloomed. The excitement seemed contagious, and people of all ages were seen bustling around, visiting their relatives, friends, or neighbors. Their tribal chief had come back with his fated mate…! It was news that deserved to be shared with everyone, even if it meant interrupting their work. The man rumored to have been seen holding Allen's hand earlier wasn't just anyone! Not a lover, not a plaything: he was his destined mate, the miracle every shaman desperately wished for.

At the time, Nyell was unaware that the news was spreading like wildfire, and he knew even less about the kind of outrageous rumors that followed. Had he known, he'd have liked to stay behind and watch the show. People running around like chickens without heads was always entertaining to observe. However, he had other matters to attend to: he had to visit his quarters, the place where he would be living for an indefinite amount of time. He hadn't expected for it to be perched so high on the mountain, though. The climb to reach Allen's dwelling was long and arduous, despite the well-maintained path. As they climbed higher, the number of houses dwindled until, ultimately, only one remained.

'No wonder Allen is so fit. I'd also be if I had to walk down and up this path every day,' Nyell silently grimaced. His legs, especially the muscles in his thighs, had been weakened by the previous days of hiking in the jungle and were starting to throb, thanks to the continuous and steep climb. The ascent didn't seem to bother the shaman, however, which pricked his pride a little. He was the warrior, so how come the shaman had more stamina than he did…?

While Nyell was brooding, they eventually reached Allen's house. Nyell didn't wait for permission and ventured inside to survey the place with curious eyes. If he were honest, he was fascinated by the architecture of the White Moon tribe. It was vastly different from anything he had seen before. Now, the huts from his tribe, which were relatively similar to the huts from other werewolf tribe living in the jungle, and the shelters scattered throughout the jungle seemed overly crude in Nyell's eyes. Although the Black Moon tribe had a memorial cave, the carving his ancestors did wasn't very elaborate, much less delicate. They had only widened an existing grotto by chiseling the walls and brought some furniture inside. Nothing note-worthy, unlike the White Moon tribe's craftsmanship. 

Like most houses in the White Moon tribe, Allen's dwelling was carved directly into the mountain. It had been done with precision, taking into account the rocky material, and everything was heavily decorated with intricate pillars or adorned with engraved fresques and statues of mythic beasts. A greyish-white coating also covered the flat walls, and exquisite woven rugs lay on the floor. Meanwhile, wooden terraces were perched on the façade outside, allowing people to sit and observe the bustling town and harbor from above. It gave a vantage point on the tribe's affairs.

"I'd like to tell you to make yourself at home," Allen gestured to a door, "but I only have one bedroom. I hope you don't mind sharing the bed."

"Oh? Then, just letting you know," Nyell replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I move a lot in my sleep, and I'll certainly kick you out of bed at one point. I hope you don't mind."

A cocked eyebrow was Allen's answer. Nyell was lying, considering they had shared a bed more than once, and Allen had never been kicked out. Even if Nyell did indeed move in his sleep, he tended to act like an octopus and hug whatever was at arm's reach, not kick and push others out of bed. Still, the shaman knew better than to point it out and kept quiet. Or he'd truly be kicked out of bed. It was already good enough that Nyell wasn't asking for him to sleep on the floor, so he wasn't going to push his luck. 

"Anyway," Nyell brushed the matter aside, slouching on a couch that drew a discreet exclamation of surprise out of his mouth. This was way too comfortable! Nothing like the things back home. He couldn't help but pat the cushions as he mumbled, "Are you sure it's alright for us to just, you know? Ditch everyone and laze in your house? Don't you have responsibilities to attend to? You're still the chief, as far as I know." 

In other words, Nyell was asking Allen when he'd buzz off and give him some alone time. Or, that was what Allen felt he hinted at, and he wasn't too far from the truth. Now that Nyell had his fun and accomplished what he wanted to achieve, he'd like to relax. On his own. 

Even if Nyell had come to accept his relationship with the White Moon tribe's chief, it nevertheless felt somewhat awkward when the two of them were left alone. He didn't know what to do, much less say. 

"Don't worry," Allen shrugged, not the least bit alarmed by Nyell's words. "The elders' people are going to come knocking at my door soon enough and ask me to come down. Since they're so keen on bothering me, let's let them work for it and do the climb. In the meantime, Myrven will be handling the reports to the council, and I do have something to take care of here before meeting with the old fossils at the table. I've been away for a while, and engaging in a combat of wit with the elders, without information about the events that happened in my absence, would be nothing short of dumb. Don't you think so?"

"Right…"

'He's that type of man, after all. But I guess those with information do have the upper hand, in the end,' Nyell silently snorted, thinking back on how they dealt with the elders in his tribe. It had been somewhat easy to handle them at one point because they had key knowledge that they didn't—notably, Layla's stealth ability. Burg didn't know about it and couldn't plan countermeasures accordingly. He ultimately failed to protect himself. Knowledge was a scary weapon, and Allen seemed to be a master at gathering information. Nyell didn't doubt it, as he was the first to discover Dangu's existence.

"So?" Nyell tilted his head, unable to rein in his curiosity. Even though he loved to brute-force his way when things soured, he was still fairly curious about Allen's methods. They were different from his and yielded interesting results, like the oh-so-fitting end the elders encountered in his tribe. Although he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't help but wonder how he'd handle the elder council in his own tribe, and thus asked, "How are you going to get that information?"

"Take a guess?" Allen smiled, which earned him a death glare he pretended not to see. At any rate, Nyell would know soon enough. "But first off, I need to know how you want to be presented to the tribe: do you want to be yourself, the son of the Black Moon tribe's chiefs, who's a well-known warrior even among my people, or do you want to be someone who simply shares his name? Depending on what you decide, it'll change how I tackle the elders."

The name Nyell was indeed fairly common in the tribes inhabiting the jungle, as it was the name of a hero passed down in legends. There were always a few babies named 'Nyell' every year. It was also a reason why Nyell, the Nyell from the Black Moon tribe, was both revered and feared. Given his renowned prowess and many exploits, many thought that he might be the reincarnation of the hero from the old legends, which was obviously bullshit in Nyell's eyes.

"What's the point of hiding my real identity?" Nyell asked after thinking about it for a second. "Some people might get suspicious, anyway."

"And many more would drop their guards and think of you as disposable and easy to manipulate. I can already tell some people will try to compare you to the oh-so-estimable Nyell to provoke you or evoke a feeling of inferiority. Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention our little bet. It'd be detrimental to my plans and even wreck a bit of fun in the process. I'm sure messing with the elders will be a good pastime for you, too." 

"Ah," Nyell let out a long, deadpan exclamation, as everything became clear in his mind. So, this guy wanted to screw up the elders in some way. "But I've already told Miell who I am?"

"Don't worry, this merchant crew knows to hold their tongues. As long as we don't make a statement, they'll keep quiet." 

"Well," Nyell paused for a second, as if thinking of something. Then, a devious smile bloomed on his face, curling the corner of his lips sinisterly. He licked his canines before letting out a small laugh, "I guess I'll play along, then. It seems fun. I don't promise I won't make any blunter if I get annoyed, though."

"That's fine by me," Allen nodded, appearing satisfied. "On another note, the more I get to know you, the more I realize your personality is pretty nasty, isn't it?"

"You can talk!"