The man stood, clearly defined muscles shifting and tensing, as ready to fight as Damen himself.

When he spoke, it was neither Veretian nor Akielon. Not even Patran. Yet it was a langauge Damen found himself understanding nonetheless though did not know how or why. He frowned, growing further unsettled with each passing breath.

'You are not Veretian,' he said this time in the strange new language, letting the words fall from his tongue. Despite Damen's tone, it was less statement than question.