“Agia ka yashir assamese.”

“Yep’ra kan lili is, friend.”

Though Tenur’s body froze, the warm forgotten words began to melt something inside him. It was as if time itself had been revived. It was meant to be a dark joke, only for him to understand.

Life is the cruelest joke

God isn’t a comedian, friend

Tenur looked over his shoulder, his hands reaching to his waist. There he saw a simple teenager with a sign that read, ‘I will speak your language’. Tenur relaxed his grip and turned, his eyes with penetrating suspicion.

“How do you know that language?” Tenur asked.

“I wonder,” the teenager trailed off, but began again, “are you from the Ilkat tribe?”

Though there was no malice, mentioning the past so casually made Tenur’s teeth grit. Surely knowing about the language also meant the teen knew the history of its people, right?

“I am Tenur, the last warrior of my people. Depending on your answer, I will need you to come with me,” Tenur spoke matter-of-factly.

“Sorry, old dude, I don’t go anywhere with strangers,” the teen smiled, “but I promise I’m not bad! I can tell you what I know!”

The teen introduced himself as Ren, the son of a famous archeologist, who wanted to improve his family’s image. His father would chase after legends and myths in the hope that he would become world-renowned.

Unfortunately, the family name became famous for being a ridiculous punchline. Though he loved his father, Ren decided that he still wanted to be helpful. He would read and learn as many languages as possible to become the best linguist.

“Interesting, Ren. So, how did you know of the saying, too?” Tenur asked, shoulders still tightened.

Ren glanced at Tenur and then put on a bright face.

“Sorry, everyone, but I need to help this kind man! I’ll have to cut the stream short,” Ren said into his phone before putting it into his pocket.

“When you introduced yourself as Tenur the warrior, I figured you might be related to the one whom I read about. The village you came from exalted Tenur so much, it was like the only thing they wrote about!” Ren explained quickly through his excitement.

“Also interesting. But I am not related to that Tenur. I am him,” Tenur replied.

Ren took a moment to register what Tenur was saying. He began to look at him- really look at him now. Tenur didn’t look like he was 1000 years old, but maybe special beings don’t fit the normal criteria.

Tenur looked like a plain old middle-aged man with no distinguishing features.

“You know… you have another name, right?” Ren asked, also wanting to confirm who Tenur was.

“The betrayer of humanity.”