As the duel concluded with Luka's unexpected victory, his mind quickly shifted to the prize. Turning to Kael with sparkling eyes, he excitedly inquired, "Hey Kael, do I get a prize or something? Like a pendant? Or oh, oh! A sword! Yes, a sword made from sabertooth boar fangs! That would be awesome!"
Kael burst into laughter at Luka's childlike excitement. "Oh Luka, you really have no idea, do you?" he managed to say between chuckles.
"What? What's so funny? I just thought a sword would be cool," Luka pouted, crossing his arms.
"Oh, you'll get a prize alright," Kael continued to tease, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just not the kind you were expecting!"
Luka looked puzzled but shrugged it off. "Well, as long as it's not a lifetime supply of beastkin brew, I'm good. That stuff tastes like muddy water mixed with old socks," he made a face which sent Kael into another round of laughter.
"You have a unique way of describing things, Luka. Just wait till the celebration tonight. You'll get your 'prize'," Kael said, his words heavy with hidden amusement as they walked towards the heart of Feralgrove where the night's festivities were being prepared.
As the celebration roared in the heart of Feralgrove, the air was filled with laughter and camaraderie. The night sky was adorned with stars, casting a gentle glow on the jubilant faces below. The bonfire in the center danced wildly, mirroring the spirited atmosphere of the beastkin community.
As the festivities reached their peak, the elder of the village, a stout and jovial beastkin with a mane as white as snow, strode to the center with an air of grandeur. He raised his hands, and the chatter gradually dimmed, giving way to an expectant silence.
"My fellow beastkins and our honorable guest," the elder began, his voice booming across the clearing, "Tonight, we not only celebrate our traditions but also the joining of hearts, the union of valor and grace. As the victor of today's challenge, young Luka has earned a place of honor amongst us, and with it, the hand of our beloved Princess Verena in marriage!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and howls of joy, the beastkin drums resonated with the beating hearts, echoing the age-old tradition of their tribe. But amidst the roaring celebration, Luka's face turned a shade paler, his eyes widened in disbelief as the words sank in.
He nudged Kael frantically, "Did he just say...marriage? As in, me and Princess Verena?"
Kael, trying to contain his laughter, nodded, "Oh, I thought you knew. It's the highest honor, Luka. You should be thrilled!"
"But, but...I'm too young for marriage!" Luka stammered, his voice barely audible over the rejoicing crowd.
Before he could process what was happening, the elder gestured him forward, and with shaky legs, Luka found himself standing next to Princess Verena who was adorned in a traditional beastkin bridal attire. The elder began the ceremonial rites, his voice echoing the ancient vows of unity.
The village cheered on as Luka nervously fumbled through the ceremony, his face a mix of shock, confusion, and a hint of amusement at the surreal turn of events. Verena, standing tall and dignified, bore a playful smirk, seemingly enjoying Luka's bewildered expressions.
The ceremony commenced with traditional rites, but before it could be concluded, Luka found his escape, sprinting into the forest, leaving behind a trail of laughter and a bewildered princess.
His escape through the dense forest was abruptly halted when he collided with a mysterious figure, shrouded in the moonlit shadows. As he picked himself up, the chapter closes with Luka face-to-face with an enigmatic individual, leaving a cloud of mystery hanging in the cool night air.