The village of Bumblestone was, by all accounts, unremarkable. It sat in a valley so insignificant that even maps didn't bother with it, and the most exciting event of the year was the annual Cabbage Tossing Festival—until the griffin arrived.

Jasper Grumbleweed, aspiring potato farmer and full-time disappointment to his mother, was hiding under a cart when the chaos began.

"Jasper, you layabout! That griffin is going to eat us all, and you're cowering like a—like a—"

"Like a sensible person!" Jasper interrupted, clutching a rusty pitchfork. He had grabbed it in a misguided attempt to look heroic before immediately regretting the decision.

Above them, the griffin screeched, wings sending gusts of wind that scattered hay and terrified chickens. Villagers screamed and ran in all directions, except for Old Man Hargle, who yelled something about how in his day, griffins had better manners.

"Someone has to do something!" cried Greta, the blacksmith's daughter, wielding a frying pan like a battle axe. She turned to Jasper, glaring. "What about you? Aren't you good with animals?"

"Good with animals? Greta, I have a goat that actively tries to kill me every morning!" Jasper retorted. As if on cue, his goat, Sir Hoofenstein, appeared, bleating angrily and attempting to headbutt his shin.

"See?" Jasper yelped, dodging.

But Greta wasn't listening. She shoved him out from under the cart, and before he could protest, the griffin swooped down, its talons scraping the dirt inches from his face.

"Okay, think, Jasper. You've got this," he muttered, scrambling to his feet. "What do griffins like? Meat? Shiny things? Long walks on the beach?"

Sir Hoofenstein, who clearly had no sense of self-preservation, trotted up to the griffin and bleated defiantly. The griffin tilted its head, clearly confused by the tiny creature's audacity.

"No, Hoofie, don't antagonize the giant murder bird!" Jasper shouted, waving his pitchfork uselessly.

The griffin snarled, advancing toward the goat. Jasper panicked. Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest object—a half-eaten wheel of cheese—and hurled it at the beast.

To everyone's surprise, the griffin stopped. Its eagle eyes locked onto the cheese, and it sniffed cautiously. Then, with a noise that could only be described as a delighted squawk, it pounced on the cheese, devouring it in seconds.

The villagers stared in stunned silence as the griffin, now seemingly docile, began nuzzling Jasper.

"What... what just happened?" Greta asked, lowering her frying pan.

"I don't know," Jasper admitted, frozen in place as the griffin rubbed its feathery head against his shoulder. "But I think I tamed it?"

Sir Hoofenstein bleated indignantly, clearly annoyed that the griffin was stealing his thunder.

From the crowd, the mayor stepped forward, beaming. "Jasper Grumbleweed, you've saved the village! We shall reward you with—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jasper interrupted, holding up a hand. "I didn't sign up for any 'saving the village' nonsense. This was an accident!"

But it was too late. The crowd erupted into cheers, hoisting him onto their shoulders. Above the din, Jasper could hear Greta mutter, "Accident or not, you're our beast tamer now."

And so, Jasper's unwanted career began, with a goat that hated him, a griffin that loved cheese, and absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Jasper's newfound fame as a "hero" was, in his opinion, more of a curse than a blessing. By the time the villagers finished celebrating, slapping him on the back, and telling exaggerated tales of his "courage," he was exhausted, bruised, and seriously considering moving to another village.

But the griffin had other ideas.

"Shoo!" Jasper whispered, trying to wave it away as it followed him home. "You're free now. Go, uh, griff somewhere else."

The griffin ignored him, letting out a soft squawk and plopping itself onto his front step. It stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes, its tail swishing like an oversized cat.

Sir Hoofenstein, naturally, was unimpressed. The goat stomped up to the griffin, head lowered, and headbutted its flank.

"Hoofie, no!" Jasper shouted, but the griffin didn't retaliate. Instead, it nudged the goat gently with its beak, as if to say, Nice try, tiny one.

"Well, great," Jasper muttered, throwing his hands up. "Now I have two freeloaders. Should I put out a sign? All beasts welcome—free room and board as long as you ruin my life."

The griffin let out a contented purr. Jasper sighed and pushed open the door to his cottage.

"Fine. But if you're staying here, you're earning your keep. That means no eating my chickens, no stealing my bread, and absolutely no chewing on the furniture." He shot a pointed look at Sir Hoofenstein, who was already nibbling on a chair leg.

The griffin ducked its head to squeeze through the doorway and settled itself in the corner, folding its wings neatly. Jasper stared at it for a moment, then sighed again. "This is my life now."

The next morning, Jasper woke to chaos.

He stumbled out of bed, bleary-eyed, to find his cottage in shambles. Feathers covered every surface. His table was flipped over, the bread he'd baked last week was gone, and Sir Hoofenstein was perched triumphantly on the rafters.

"Why are you up there?!" Jasper groaned, trying to shoo the goat down with a broom. Hoofenstein bleated mockingly.

Then he heard it—a knock at the door. Jasper froze. No one knocked on his door unless they wanted something, and the last thing he needed was more problems.

"Jasper Grumbleweed!" a booming voice called. "Open up in the name of the kingdom!"

"Oh no," Jasper muttered. "That's never good."

He opened the door a crack and found himself face-to-face with a knight clad in gleaming armor. The knight's visor lifted to reveal a young woman with a severe expression and a quill tucked behind her ear.

"Jasper Grumbleweed?" she asked briskly, consulting a scroll.

"Uh, maybe?" Jasper replied. "What's this about?"

The knight ignored his question and scanned the wreckage of his cottage. Her gaze landed on the griffin, which was now trying to eat one of Jasper's socks.

"Excellent," she said, scribbling something on her scroll. "You've been recruited by royal decree. The kingdom is in dire need of beast tamers, and it appears you have... some talent."

"Recruited?!" Jasper sputtered. "No, no, no. There's been a mistake. I'm not a tamer—I'm just a guy with a really persistent goat and a griffin that likes cheese!"

"Nevertheless," the knight said, rolling up her scroll. "You're coming with me."

Before Jasper could protest further, she grabbed his arm and dragged him toward her horse. The griffin followed eagerly, while Sir Hoofenstein trotted behind with an air of smug satisfaction.

As Jasper was hauled away from his wrecked cottage and what little remained of his quiet life, he groaned, "This can't get any worse."

But deep down, he knew it probably would

Jasper's protests fell on deaf ears as the knight—who introduced herself as Dame Prunella, Royal Beast-Tamer Recruiter (Third Class)—shoved him onto her massive warhorse.

"Do I at least get to pack a bag?" Jasper whined, clutching at the saddle as the griffin flapped clumsily alongside them.

"You can bring whatever fits in your pockets," Prunella said curtly. "This is an urgent matter of national security, not a sightseeing tour."

"What about Hoofenstein?" Jasper asked, gesturing toward his goat, who had taken it upon himself to chew through Prunella's saddlebags.

She glanced back, her mouth twitching. "The goat can come. It seems... determined."

"Determined to ruin my life," Jasper muttered under his breath, but he didn't argue.

By the time they reached the castle, Jasper was sore, annoyed, and covered in feathers (the griffin had apparently decided he made an excellent perch). The royal city was a stark contrast to Bumblestone—towering walls, bustling marketplaces, and enough people shouting at once to make Jasper's head spin.

"You're lucky," Prunella said as they clattered through the gates. "The kingdom rarely recruits commoners, but with the Beastmaster missing, we've had to lower our standards."

"Gee, thanks," Jasper said flatly, brushing griffin drool off his shoulder.

Prunella ignored him, steering her horse toward the castle's grand entrance. Two guards stepped aside, their expressions unreadable as they watched Jasper stumble off the horse.

Inside, a group of nobles and knights were gathered in a grand hall, their chatter echoing off the stone walls. At the center of the room stood King Thaddeus the Slightly Nervous, fidgeting with his crown.

"Ah, you've brought him!" the king exclaimed when he saw Jasper. "The Beast Tamer of Bumblestone!"

"That's not my—" Jasper started, but the king had already rushed forward, shaking his hand enthusiastically.

"We're in desperate need of your skills, Master Tamer," the king said. "The royal menagerie is in complete disarray! The phoenix has set the aviary on fire, the hydra ate the gardener, and don't even get me started on the basilisk incident."

Jasper blinked. "That... sounds like a lot."

"It is!" the king wailed. "And with the Beastmaster missing, we're at our wits' end. But you—you tamed a wild griffin with a wheel of cheese! Surely, you can handle this."

Jasper opened his mouth to explain that the cheese incident was a fluke, but Prunella nudged him sharply in the ribs.

"Think of the reward," she hissed.

"Reward?" Jasper perked up.

"Of course!" the king said, beaming. "Gold, land, a title—whatever you desire!"

Jasper considered this. Maybe being a royal beast tamer wouldn't be so bad. He could tame a few animals, collect his reward, and retire somewhere far away where no one would ask him to do anything ever again.

"All right," he said finally. "I'll do it. But I need a few things."

"Name them!" the king declared.

"First, I'll need cheese. Lots of it. Different types—hard, soft, smelly. You never know what a beast might like."

The king nodded. "Consider it done."

"Second," Jasper continued, glancing at Sir Hoofenstein, "I'll need someone to babysit my goat."

The goat snorted indignantly, headbutting Jasper in the shin.

"And third," Jasper said, ignoring the pain, "I'm going to need some help. Like, professional help. Maybe another tamer or two?"

The king hesitated, then clapped his hands. "Prunella will assist you!"

Prunella's smile was so forced it could've shattered glass, but she nodded stiffly. "It would be an honor."

Jasper smirked. "Perfect. Let's get started."

As he turned to follow the king, the griffin waddling behind him like an overeager puppy, Jasper couldn't help but feel a tiny spark of confidence. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Then again, with his luck, it was bound to get worse.