[1741-1750] - Y07.241-250 – Training Our Hearts I-X (Patreon)

01

The young woman was quite lean, still, and her rough hands were almost as rough as her eyes. Her hair was cut short, only a finger digit thick. She was adorned in attire that had been gifted to her from the business, and as Adam spied her, he realised he wanted to redesign the clothes once more, partly to slip the Iyr more coin, and partly because he wished to take the suggestions from the warriors who had to wear the clothes. He considered, perhaps, clothing needed to be different depending on one’s role?

“Executive,” the woman said, dropping down beside him.

“Lead,” Adam replied, offering to pour her a cup of milk, which she accepted. “Are they not feeding you enough?”

“The Executive suggested that one should be lean if they are tasked with moving long distances,” Cobra replied.

“Oh?” Adam mused, recalling how sprinters and marathon runners looked so different. “I suppose that’s right.”

“I wished to ask you… next year, when you go face the Reavers…”

“Yes?”

“Should my sisters and I step out?” Cobra asked, her eyes holding his gaze, holding a clearness within her own.

“if you want to go, you can go. If you want to stay, you can stay. If you’re feeling a little restless these days, I can send you out to escort the others in taking the magical items to the nobles.”

Cobra considered his words for a long moment. “The Executive said we are too weak to deal with the Reavers, but we haven’t stepped out to fight, so even if we’re real Experts now…”

Adam followed Cobra’s eyes, which fell to the twins, who were speaking with the Aswadian children who had been adopted into the business, The twins, with their steel sabres at their sides, they were true Experts, as they would say. Cobra, Viper, Python, the trio came to him after living such a terribly harsh life to the point they reached almost the realm of an Expert, although as they fought similar to Kitool, it was more like they were Adept, without the unique abilities of an Adept, still rather unfocused with their flesh and bone. The twins, however, who were roughly their age, perhaps a little older, were not just Experts, but Experts who wielded unique abilities, passed down from a legendary figure.

“I will be sure to request the Enchanter to forge you something, although, since you don’t really like to use weapons, it might be a little difficult, so the business will figure out something for you all.”

“We just appreciate the opportunity, Executive.”

“Even so, won’t you miss your younger siblings?”

“The others will remain behind to watch over them, and we’ll be able to come back with quite a story too.”

“I see…” Adam paused for a moment, considering her words, which seemed so Iyrmanly. “It’s going to be extremely dangerous.”

“Every day has dangers, Executive.”

“As long as you understand.” Adam considered what he should prepare for them. It was difficult for them to possess an item which increased their offensive capabilities, he couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head, but if it was defensive, some bracers might suit them? Perhaps a belt that increased their health too? Although, it was always best to defeat an opponent swiftly, so perhaps he’d need to focus on increasing their damage somehow? ‘It’ll be difficult to protect everyone, but I’ll have to do my best. It’s not like we’ll be going alone, anyway, Jurot and Kitool, they’ll be able to take on the Reavers. Hopefully Nobby has grown more powerful too, or, at the very least, I’ll make sure his equipment is powerful too. I should have let him spar with a few warriors while we were out…’

As Adam thought about the attire, he considered how the armour of the business should look. He enjoyed the way it was designed at this time, typical plate with the United Kindom’s flag, and the Union Jack was quite a pretty thing, and, thankfully, in this world only had an association with the business. However, shouldn’t those who become Experts, or greater, each possess something to make them stand out? For those below Expert to aspire towards?

As Adam finally returned back to the complex with his family, he found Jurot finishing the wooden figurine, and he blew against it, revealing it to the half elf.

“Nice.” As Adam sat down beside him, he watched as little Damrot and Virot scampered up nearby, but he held out a hand. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Trick: Tricks

Adam cleaned away the dust, which disappeared into the wind, and allowed the children to approach, as Damrot climbed up beside his father, and Virot climbed up on his other side, and somehow, it was Damrot who was between Adam and Jurot, not that he complained.

“Papo!” Virot called. “Papo, Virot played so well.”

“Yes,” Jurot confirmed, reaching down to brush her hair gently, as his other hand tickled his son’s ear.

“Papo! Papo! Virot is good at playing, and Virot will play with papo.”

“Okay,” Jurot said, picking the pair up.

“Jurot,” Adam called, “if I design a helmet to look like a dragon’s face, will a dragon take offence?”

“Some may.”

“Hmm…” Adam nodded, and with that returned to his wife, though not before kissing the pair of children, who kissed him in return.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?” Vonda called, holding Xarot within her bosom, the boy snoozing away.

“I was thinking, you know, the helmets of the business members, even if the armour looks the same, the helmets can be designed differently, maybe the gauntlets too, and that way they could look… you know?”

“Cool?” Vonda teased.

“Yeah,” Adam replied, flushing. “I was thinking a dragon for Yasha, but if a dragon takes offence, I was thinking, I don’t know, a hydra?”

“Elsie would not like that,” Vonda replied, causing her husband to inhale sharply, as though she had stabbed him with her words. “A wyvern, perhaps?”

“Ooh!” Adam replied, nodding his head. “Yeah, yeah, that would be good!”

Adam continued to think about how to design the various clothes, and the armour, even going so far as to doodle some within his book, though then went to gather some sheets of paper from the Iyr’s warehouses, and he thanked those fellows who had brought paper to the realm, using the stylus formed of gem. At the very least he could sketch something lightly.

“Daddy, you are drawing?” Karot asked.

“I’m drawing some designs for clothing for the business, and some for the armour and helmets of the warriors.”

Karot stared down at the designs.

“Would you like to draw with daddy?”

Karot nodded, smiling brightly, and he dropped down beside his father, tail swaying wildly behind him.

Adam’s heart throbbed lightly, a warmth spreading up from his chest, and he reached out, gently brushing his son’s silky hair tenderly. ‘I’m the luckiest dad in the whole world…’

02

Adam spent the first week of the eighth month under the curse of Awakening an Iyrman, and he was gaunt once more, spending the second week resting.

Thankfully the gauntness disappeared rather swiftly, and the colour also returned to his face. However, as he rested at home, the various children came to check up on him.

“Cousin Adam, here,” Gurot called, handing the half elf a picture he had scribbled while in school.

“Gurot! My Gurot!” Adam called, wrapping his arms around the boy, picking him up, though he was weakened by his state, and yet Gurot was almost as light as a feather, although since he was chonky, it was a heavy feather indeed.

“I hope you are well again, cousin Adam, so we can play.”

“I will try to play with you in a few days, when I should be alright,” Adam assured, and as the two hugged one another tightly, the half elf’s heart throbbed once more. ‘You punk! You’re so much bigger now! How can you bully me like this? Do you think I won’t be able to pick you up once I’m recovered?’

“Papa…” Amalrot called, although Gurot also hugged her, brushing her hair gently.

“Are you hungry?” Gurot asked.

Amalrot smiled, and followed her older cousin away, as the boy, when it came to eating, as was responsible as even Kavgak. Perhaps, in this domain, he was even more responsible than Kavgak?

It was then shadows loomed over the Front Iyr.

“Why do you look so terrible?” an older man asked, with long hair, dyed red, with streaks of white. He was clean shaved, with a strong jaw, and a wise, flat nose, and his small eyes were curious, although he knew the answer He was lean, and walked with floating grace, adorned in silk, black with golden thread, and his longsword was a fusion of bone and metal.

“I must carry a great many burdens for the Iyr,” Adam joked, smiling towards the Chief. “What brings you here, Chief?”

“There were many conversations to be had with the Aldish, some within our fort, and some within Red Oak, but it seems we have come to an understanding.”

“What understanding is that?”

“The Iyr shall provide support against the Reavers actively, soon, and in exchange, the Aldish will not war with us.”

“I mean, you could face both the Reavers and the Aldish, so it sounds like a terrible deal?”

“Although it is a terrible deal…” Iromin smiled. “It is my hope you, too, will step out, and cause enough trouble to allow us to slaughter a few of the Iyrmen who pick fights with you.”

“I probably will have to hold back my anger, so I won’t be able to kill them, just so you know.”

“I understand,” Iromin said, bowing his head to the Ray nearby. “I will entrust that matter to your grandfather then.”

“Grandfather, do you hear that?” Adam called, raising his voice.

“The Chief is so wise,” Jarot returned, his arms crossed, his eyes closed, though he peeked open an eye, daring to glare towards him.

“Is that how you act towards me after how much favour I have shown to you?” Iromin replied, his voice light, playful.

“I called you wise,” Jarot replied, and he continued to hold the Chief’s gaze with his eyes, and, should the Chief not forget, he possessed both his arms and legs now. Even if the Chief was a Paragon, even if he, too, was wild, he couldn’t forget, Jarot was the Mad Dog, and while he was Drakebane, it was the Mad Dog who had gone to slay Forgryn, the Azure Terror.

“The Chief has favoured me so much too, so that’s why I trust him as much as I trust my own grandfather,” Adam said, doing his best to keep his face neutral, holding his grandfather’s shocked gaze, and then the old man stood, turning red hot, and as he turned to look towards the Chief’s eyes, which were narrowed, and his lips held a small pout, Adam let out a small sigh. “I suppose I trust him a little bit less than my own grandfather?”

“Clean your neck!” Jarot growled.

“If you do not behave, I will send you out with the first company,” the Chief warned.

“Oh? Do you thi-,”

“You would not miss their birthdays, would you?” Iromin asked.

Jarot continued to remain red hot with rage, but it slipped away, since he did not attack. “Would you dare to do so?”

“Have I shown you too much mercy?”

‘Ah,’ Adam thought, realising where he had gotten many of his phrases from now. ‘It seems like the Iyr has really corrupted me.’

“It seems our Jirot is disappointed?”

Jirot flushed lightly, but continued to pout, turning to face her greatmother, who wrapped her red arms around her twins, pulling them close to her bosom. “…”

“It was we, who kept their steel, including their magical steel,” Iromin said. “Since they dared to assault you, I will gift you Death Dog’s sword.”

Jirot turned, her mouth forming a tiny circle of surprise.

“Do you forgive us now?”

“I forgive you!” Jirot said, holding up a thumb towards the Chief. “I always trust you, Chief, always. I always say it, always.”

Chief Iromin smiled, and with that, he motioned towards one of his aides, who brought forward one of the boxes, which was long, and as they opened it, the sword of the Death Dog was revealed to them. Iromin was glad the Countess had made the wise decision of keeping the armour and weapons for the Iyr to claim. After all, Red Oak and the Iyr were rather close, and as good neighbours, they should be rather neighbourly, even if they did have to slaughter some of their soldiers.

The sword was long, slightly curved at the tip, and was forged of fine steel, enchanted with a Greater Enhanced enchantment, the kind that allowed one to strike true a little easier, and, not just that, upon such a strike, they regained their vigour. It was a fine weapon, so the Chief thought, especially for the likes of the Gak family.

“Nano, I gift you this sword, because it is best with you,” Jirot said, holding onto her greatmother’s arm.

“You know of it?”

“Nano, it is I who reads the encyclopaedia to everyone,” Jirot said. “Of coas I know!

“Of coas!” came the cry.

Gangak smiled. “I will use the sword well, my Jirot.”

Jirot smiled wide. “Nano, did I give you the best gift this year?”

“You did.”

Jirot side eyed her father, whose lips formed a tiny circle in surprise.

‘I can’t believe you’ve done this!’

Jirot knew which miim he was quoting, smirking wider.

03

‘Why are you training so hard?’ Merl thought, watching as her husband continued to sweat as he squatted while carrying a log over his shoulders. His eyes held a certain focus within them, and he stared at the forest, seeing the ghost of the previous year. She was certain something wicked had happened within the forest, but he wouldn’t speak about it, and after the letter had come for him from the Executive, he had doubled his training. He was training so hard, even little Merry had begun, though the boy was out of breath almost immediately.

“Do you have to go?” Merl eventually asked as they sat down for lunch.

“Yes,” Nobby replied simply, and the look within his eyes had said he couldn’t be convinced out of it, not even by his beautiful wife. As Nobby’s eyes fell down to Merry, the boy squinted up at his father, smiling, and accepted his father’s rough, calloused hands atop his head, the boy’s hair almost falling down to his shoulders.

It wasn’t just Nobby who trained hard, for within the Front Iyr, there were a particular trio who were shooting hundreds of arrows daily, thankfully arrows whittled from wood, heavier wooden tips spun around the shaft.

Brittany, like the others beside her, ran every morning, shot a hundred arrows every morning, every afternoon, and every evening. John, Archer John, not the triplet’s father, and Ivy each practised together, and also sparred with clubs and staves, preparing themselves against the Reavers.

‘Even if I’m an Expert, the Reavers, they’re apparently Experts at least, and so many are Masters and Grandmasters…’ Brittany thought, and she considered the world she had stepped into. How many years had it been? Seven and a half or so? Since the turn of the millennium since she had met the half elf and had begged him to take her to explore the world, and he obliged, but only because she worked so hard.

Archer John dropped down, panting for air. “Why did I have to become an Expert and earn twenty gold a month?”

“…” Ivy replied.

John stared up at the sky. “It’s such a beautiful sky, shouldn’t I be painting it?”

“…” Ivy replied.

John stood, and after drinking from his waterskin, he drew his pair of daggers, and meditated with them, feeling their weight within his hands, readying himself to face the shadows before him.

Brittany drew her own steel, feeling the magic running through the shortblades. It had been so long since she had fought properly. She considered the previous year in which she had met the Whirlwind Arrow, the leader of the Whirlwind Arrows, and looked up towards the sky. She wondered if they really meant it, that she was someone skilled enough to join the Whirlwind Arrows.

As they returned, they found the half elf, who was still a little tired, seemingly, reading to the children, who excitedly listened to the tale. It was a tale of his grandfather, as much as he could remember, and as much as had been written, for perhaps only the scholars of the Iyr truly knew the complete tale, as Jarot had forgotten a great many of those he had slain, either too tired to remember, too drunk, or too bored.

‘Ah, right, I need to work on George’s tongue,’ Adam thought.

“Mister Adam, when you kill the Reavers, can you kill one for me too?” Copper asked.

“I’ll try my best,” Adam assured, and Copper smiled. “Although, since my wife would be disappointed, I might just beat them up.”

“Oh…” Copper pouted.

Adam winked, and once he was done reading the tale, he gave them their space, and then made his way out, going off to relax with his family, having given them some time away from him, since he was eating his daughter’s head.

“Oh?” Adam called, noting the way the Golden Savages were training so hard. They wore their armour too, their magical armour which he had promised them, and their weapons, gleamed brightly under the sun. He wasn’t sure if he had granted them magical weapons yet. ‘Right, I should probably hand them some magical weapons, and Rook will finally be able to retire that cute little fire sword he had managed to procure.’

Adam considered how they had met one another, during the tournament, in which Vasera had to claim fourth place, although had originally had planned to claim third place, but since he was there, she had to claim fourth. Even then, the pressure of the King’s Sword’s daughter, and her cousin had forced him to take third. He closed his eyes, recalling how he had beaten her up in the next tournament, in which he had taken first, alongside Jurot and Kitool, who had taken first in their own segments, and then Jaygak, who had, somehow, taken third in his segment, behind himself, the Princess, and then above the King’s Sword’s daughter.

Adam swallowed, smiling, and as he stared at the Golden Savages, who saw his smile, he waved towards them.

“Are you thinking about the magical swords you are to grant us soon?” Vasera joked.

“That, and more,” Adam replied, and with that, he let out a soft exhale, and made his way out, whistling to himself as he did so, for the good mood took his heart.

“He’s always so queer…” Vasera mused, causing her fellows to glance towards her with their own looks. “I can’t believe he’s not gay.”

“Are we certain? I’ve seen the way he looks at some men.” Rook raised his brow.

“Certainly, everyone has a touch of it, but not enough for you to claim it, for you do not possess such fine taste.”

“You don’t even like men.”

“I suppose you do have good taste then…” Vasera smiled.

Rook sighed, shaking his head lightly, and returned back to his training.

‘If we are going to face the Reavers next year…’ Jera considered how strong he was, certainly between an Expert and Master, but he heard the Reavers were quite powerful. He sighed, and began to train once more, swinging his sword, for he was paid a gold a day, a touch more, and he, too, had received magical armour.

Tork sighed, flexing his muscles, and though his brother was still running about, he made his way away. ‘Ah should steelfight someone, but all the Iyrmen, they’re…’

Mork coughed lightly, his hands upon his knees, half keeled over. ‘I saw the Brothers train so hard the other day, but how come they’re able to run more than me? I can’t let the southerners outrun me!’

04

The crisp duskval air entered his lungs, and as the rain gently fell, it filled his mind as he continued to meditate. It was the the rain slightly shifted, and he opened his eyes, noting the bald head, the neat beard that fell down towards his chest, and the smile upon his lips.

“…”

“Did I interrupt your meditations?” Malfev asked, as though he thought he hadn’t.

Bilal stood. He was an older Aswadian man, though he looked forty, though his hair was stark white, his long hair flowing down to his shoulders, his beard having grown in, hiding many of his features. He wore the business’ clothes, and carried a scimitar at his side, and upon him, he wore an aura of death.

“The children, they wish to step out next year against the Reavers,” Malfev said, looking up towards the grey sky. “I assume you will wish to remain?”

“It would be best,” Bilal replied.

“Would you like to spar?”

Bilal had felt it, the different between them, but if he wished to spar, he would not refuse it. Even if Malfev was a step ahead, it did not guarantee victory, although the two fought only until they were out of breath.

Adam returned to enchanting once he could, continuing to Fabricate, at least an item each day, although he would often spend an hour, and then also an hour during his break, for he wanted to make sure he could Fabricate everything, from the armour, to the weapons, for he had many gifts he wished to give.

“Huu!” Inakan cried, allowing her tears to flow freely, and in an instant, she was within his arms.

“Inakan! What’s wrong?” Adam asked, and within his heart, he wondered if he needed to destroy the world.

“I am so weak, cousin Adam! I cannot even play!”

“Who said that?”

The girl cried harder, wailing so loudly, for at least her lungs were strong. “Cousin Adam!”

“I’m here, I’m here, my dearest Inakan,” Adam said, patting her back gently, as the girl stopped sobbing, and allowed him to wipe her face. “You are strong in your own ways.”

“Huu…”

“Do you want to be strong?”

Inakan nodded.

“Okay, alright, well, maybe cousin Adam can help, but can you wait?”

“Okay…”

“My dearest Inakan…” Adam was glad her birthday was soon, just a few days away, and as he thought back to what he could gift her, he was certain there was something. It was later in the day when he remembered what he had managed to procure a few years ago.

“Yes?” Vonda asked.

“Inakan cried about being weak.”

Vonda frowned. The girl had been born a little too soon. Her glasses were a result of the fact that her eyes were weak, but even the rest of her, she was still a touch smaller than her peers.

“I was thinking, you know, maybe we could give her the gauntlets?”

Vonda thought for a moment. “Which gauntlets?”

“The ones I got from the secret place that I… didn’t tell you about.” Adam winked.

“Ah, yes, I do recall them.”

“Although, I guess there are better gauntlets I could make her?”

“I’m sure she will enjoy them.”

“Are you sure?”

“I do not know why you asked me.”

“It's a big gift, and they belongs to you as much as it belongs to me.”

“Gift it if you wish.”

Adam wrapped his arms around his wife, hugging her tight, staring into her eyes, and the two kissed gently, Adam resting his cheeks against hers. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“It is a little crazy how half of the references I make are from Star Wars.”

“You still haven’t told me how it ends.”

“I mean, it doesn’t end per se, but, trust me, it’s bad.” Adam sighed, mourning the end of the movies. He only prayed they had made some more decent movies or shows after what he had seen. ‘Man. I kind of wish I had access to that sort of thing. Why didn’t I transmigrate, or whatever it’s called, to a place with a smartphone or something…’

A yawn filled the air within the business.

‘I’m not going to go even for a magical weapon,’ Jane thought. She had known the half elf for almost three years now, and even after seeing all the insane things she had, she wasn’t interested in stepping out against the Reavers. Even so, the northerner in her heart wondered if perhaps she should. ‘Stop it, Jane…’

Another young woman sipped along her tea lightly, without a single danger aiming towards her, a luxury within the Iyr. She stared at her companion in front of her, the one adorned entirely in cloth, hiding every inch of their physique, and as she glanced aside, towards Tanika, she wondered if the sand giant had figured out what Siten was. However, if she did, she made no indication of knowing.

‘Reavers…’ Tanika thought. She, too, had begun her training, and considering her physique, she had requested some specialised equipment from the Iyr, larger rocks, larger trees, and she had even begun to spar with a few Grandmasters of the Iyr. ‘What a life…’

Maharan, too, wielded his sword, eyeing up the quicksilver balde, that which could through the air as though it was magical. He was adorned head to toe in steel, a steel gifted to him by the half elf, and he had felt it too, a greater strength that he hadn’t previously possessed. All he had done was watch the half elf fight and he was already half way to an Expert? Is that how that worked? He was fairly certain it wasn’t, but he did not question it, and he considered the half elf’s promise.

‘Perhaps I could become a Grandmaster?’

The young Aswadian continued to train lightly, although he considered how awful it would be to wear this heavy armour where the sun rose high and bore upon the people heavily. He sheathed his sword, and took off his helmet, feeling the brisk air upon his face.

He supposed he did miss home.

05

Adam loomed over the girl.

The girl tilted her head back, causing her hair to shift over her shoulders.

“Did you think I would forget?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Adam held the girl’s gaze long and hard.

“Do you know what I have brought you?”

“A gift?”

“Okay, little miss smartypants, obviously I’ve brought you a gift on your birthday, but do you know the kind of gift?” Adam asked, his brows raised, and he held out his hands, threatening to pick up the girl.

“Um…” Inakan replied. “A gift to make me stronger?”

Adam’s mouth formed a tiny circle, causing Inakan to giggle. “How did you know?”

“I know because I am a genius, cousin Adam, I am a genius!” the girl declared, almost cackling, and as Adam lifted her up, he planted a firm kiss on her forehead.

“Oh my gosh! You must be Jirot’s sister then, since you are so smart?”

“No! I am not! I am her aunt! You silly cousin Adam!” Inakan cackled with such delight, and as Adam leaned in to brush his cheek against hers, swaying from side to side gently, he let her down, and allowed Vonda to bring the gift. “Gauntlets?”

“Gauntlets,” Adam said, as he allowed the girl to adorn them.

They were formed of steel that looked almost silver, the bronze trim around the finger tips and the backplate broke the silver, and as she put them on, she gasped, feeling the tingle of magic.

“What do they do, cousin Adam?”

“They make you a little stronger.”

“Just a little bit?” Inakan frowned.

“I think you’ll be very happy once you meditate with them.”

“Cousin Adam, I am too young to meditate with magical items.”

Adam blinked. “Oh. Uh. I guess you’ll have to wait then, but, they are yours, and in the future, when you are big, they might make you even bigger?”

“Thank you cousin Adam, cousin Vonda,” Inakan said, hugging each of them, with so much strength one might assume the gauntlets were already working. The girl smiled, revealing the gauntlets to her father, who smiled too, and brushed her hair.

“When Amokan comes back, put them on and beat him up, okay?” Adam said.

“I cannot beat up my brother, he is too strong!”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see who is stronger! Our Inakan, who is working so hard, or Amokan, who is having fun outside!”

As Inakan accepted the rest of her gifts, she also went to meet with the business members, revealing her gifts to them.

Shikan let out a soft sigh, for, as with the glasses, it was his nephew, once more, who assisted them so greatly. ‘My debt is even greater now.’

It was not just her birthday that week.

The chonky girls, cousins, yet born on the same day, flushed under their cousin’s attention, who couldn’t help but kiss their faces all over.

“No! No! The Iyr cannot do this to me! No!” Adam almost wailed, picking up Maygak and Faygak, pretending as though they were too heavy for him. “I can barely lift you up now that you’re both… you’re both… I cannot say it, I cannot!”

It was at this time a girl would speak up to bully her father.

He opened an eye, to see how his daughter’s eyes were closed.

“…”

“Kakos are so big now, daddy…” Jirot said, though her heart was not in it, for it was Maygak and Faygak who turned five years old before their cousins, the first to do so, and she looked up to her father, with the understanding they would begin schooling. Indeed, she recalled how she had begun schooling early, so spent less time with her father and mother, and though they had lightly begun it, it would begin in earnest now. She could not say it, for the sake of her heart, for the sake of her father’s heart, for the sake of her aunts’ hearts.

“You are so big now…” Raygak said, picking up Maygak, staring into her eyes. She had just turned three by the time he had left, too young to remember him well, and yet she ate from his fingers well enough. He hugged the girl, brushing along her hair, planting a gentle kiss upon her cheek, and even though the Elder was here, he would not surrender his sister to the woman.

‘Should I take a day off from my role so I can beat him?’ Jaygak thought.

“Faygak, big,” Taygak said, picking up her youngest sister, staring into her eyes, the girl flushing, hiding within her sister’s shoulder. “School, soon.”

Faygak pulled back, the betrayal in her eyes evident.

Laygak closed his eyes, trying to resist the urge to laugh.

“You will enjoy school, Faygak,” Saygak said.

Faygak turned to her older brother, and then looked to Kavgak, and the girl’s face contorted, making to cry.

“Stop bullying my Faygak!” Adam exclaimed, taking the girl from her sister, all the while the large toddler shook, though within her cousin’s arms, she did not sob, though the tears trekked down her cheeks. ‘Sorry, Faygak, but…’

Adam handed out the daggers, and then when it was Mokan’s birthday, and Dagek’s birthdays, he gifted them each their daggers too, as they turned five, along with the rest of the children who turned five, and for those who turned six, even though they betrayed him, he gifted them weapons appropriate to their family.

Tanagek held little Dagek within his arms, feeding him from his fingers, feeling how big the boy had become. He had met the boy when he was three, and now he was five.

“You look so much like Tonogek,” Tanagek said, brushing the boy’s hair behind his hear. He turned towards Danagek. “You must watch over him well, okay?”

“Okay!” Danagek assured, for he was a responsible elder brother.

‘I should go visit his grave…’ Tanagek thought, though forced it away, for it was his youngest borther’s birthday. He, obviously, handed the boy a sword he had bought from the swordsmith.

“Rowajin,” Adam said the next day. “I can maybe forgive Alykan, I can maybe forgive Minool, since she can outrun my annoyance, and for Jazool, she who watched over my Larot well, I can forgive, but you…”

“Kaka!” Rowajin called, pointing to Adam, all the while looking to her eldest sister.

“You must call me sister now.”

Rowajin gasped, waddling over to Adam, clutching his trousers tight in hand. “No!”

“Rowajin, you must.”

“Rowajin cannot! Rowajin cannot!”

“You must, for even Mijin does so.”

Rowajin turned to her elder sibling, Mijin, who blinked. Rowajin’s made face contorted, making to cry, and Alykan gasped, rushing over to Rowajin, hugging her tight. She turned, glaring towards Uwajin.

“Kaza Uwajin! You are so mean!”

“You must call me cousin Uwajin,” Uwajin replied.

Alykan gasped, and turned to Adam, her lower lip quivering.

“Stop bullying my darling cousins!” Adam exclaimed, picking the two sobbing girls, hugging them tight.

As the ninth month arrived, Gurot and Tinajin hugged their cousin Adam, who they once called kaza, as Nirot betrayed her youngest brother, and thankfully, Timojin was not around to betray Tinajin, but Uwajin had, now called cousin Uwajin for Tinajin too.

Maool, Minakan, Mijin, and Majin all enjoyed their birthdays, for they turned six, and had gone through the betrayal previously.

Jitool, too, had gone through it all.

Kavgak, Tavgak, Gurot, and Danagek all enjoyed the attention of their birthday, but on that day, a particular girl also turned three.

“Enough, Ranya, enough!”

“Nuff!” Ranya replied, holding up her fists.

“What? You think you can bully me? I expected it from everyone else, but from you?” Adam sniffled.

“Bully!” Ranya confirmed.

“Ranya…” Adam lifted the girl up, hugging her tight, while Enisa cried, wanting to hug her sister, who was adorned all in red, with golden trim, and her hair was braided, and a gold pin kept her braids in a little bun. “Did daddy give you a nice gift?”

Ranya shook her head, and then pointed at her father accusatory, as the golden bangles jangled, those which her father had procured for her third birthday. She held out her hands, shrugging her shoulders. “No! Daddy not!”

“Ah,” Adam said, doing his best not to break, even as Jirot hid her face within the side of his knee to stop herself from laughing, because Dunes had gifted them only a minute ago. “Silly daddy.”

“Silly daddy,” Ranya confirmed.

“Why is it always our daughters who bully us so deeply?” Dunes asked.

“Bully?” Amira asked, reaching over to her daughter’s nose, poking it lightly. “Ranya does not bully me.”

Ranya smiled, hiding within her ahm’s neck.

Dunes looked down to Jirot.

Jirot side eyed her ahm. “What are you saying, ahm?”

“I am saying you bully your father so much.”

“No, no. A daughter does not bully too much, a daughter does not bully too little, a daughter bullies precisely as much as she means to.”

Adam’s tears slipped down his face.

06

To many, it was any other day.

To Adam, it was a special day.

The half elf had awoken up early, and as he had not Awakened an Iyrman that month, he was in the best of health. He had crept out early in the morning, and he had begun his workout, working out in another complex, and he had even bathed in another complex, and had even began to Fabricate, for it was such a special day today.

Then, as he returned to the estate, he found many of them awaiting him, going so far as to not begin.

After all, if Adam was spending time away, he probably had something extremely foolish he wished to do.

As Adam stepped towards his wife, slightly slower than he typically would, he leaned over, planting a kiss upon her cheek. “Did you sleep well, my darling wife?”

“I slept well, my darling husband.”

Adam flushed slightly, and he approached his triplets, reaching out his hands, allowing them to take it. “Did you sleep well, my darling triplets?”

“Yes!” Konarot replied.

“Daddy…” Kirot accused.

Karot flushed lightly, his tail swaying behind him.

“Oh my, my eldest three, they’re so cute! I’m so glad my eldest three, they slept so well. I should greet my next eldest now.” So Adam did what he would often do, and he approached Larot, and as his son glared at him, today his father was taller than even the mountains of the Iyr, and the half elf picked him up, planting a kiss upon his cheek, confirming Larot’s thoughts to destroy him in the future, and as the half elf held his son, he stared down into his eyes. “Indeed, it is my Larot who is so vicious to me, always bullying me, even referencing all the memes.”

Jirot turned her head, closing her eyes, trying to calm herself. Her eyes opened, meeting her mother’s gaze for a moment.

‘Show him mercy today,’ her mother had said. ‘Please.’

Jirot had promised to do so.

Then, Adam placed down his son, approaching his daughter, Virot, who was wearing a ribbon within my hair. “Virot, my darling Virot, who is the most vicious daughter.”

“No!” Virot declared. “Daddy! How you can say dis?”

“Ah, if you say it, it must be true, because you are so wise, and so good with your numbers.”

Virot almost made to refute his words, but the girl smirked, flushing lightly.

It was then he approached his son, little Xarot, who sucked on his dummy lightly, and as the boy rubbed his eye lightly, the half elf picked him up, and planted a kiss on his son’s cheek. “Then we have my youngest, my little Xarot, who is so strong, so strong, like his babo, that’s why we named him after our dear grandfather.”

‘He must have a good gift if he is teasing her this much,’ the older Jarot thought, his eyes slowly trailing to his greatdaughter, who was asking her mother for permission to begin, but the woman smiled innocently.

“Ah, what a wonderful day today is. What a wonderful day. I mean, it’s a normal day, isn’t it? A normal day?” Adam peeked down towards Dunes, who was holding Ranya, who was holding a small box within her hands, focused on the ribbon, the girl glaring towards it, as if daring it to unfold. She tugged on it lightly, causing her father to hold her hand, and she made to wail, but quickly stopped as her mother pinched her nose.

“…”

Adam, too, remained silent.

“…”

Adam continued to remain silent.

“…”

Adam did not speak up.

Jirot turned to her mother, her brows raised in surprise. “Daddy has not broken yet?”

“What? Who are these two handsome little, I mean, big woman and big man?” Adam gasped, staring down towards those with skin of emerald, eyes of amber, and teeth of ivory. He blinked, lips forming a circle. “My, my! I did not recognise you, but seeing how beautiful your skin is, how beautiful your eyes are, you must indeed be from the Gak family!”

“Daddy, just because you speak such kind words, do you think I will forgive you if you continue?” Jirot asked, flushing in embarrassment, but then again, she was as beautiful as the Gaks, wasn’t she?

“Daddy…” Little Jarot called, staring up towards his father, holding up his arms.

Indeed, for Jarot, wasn’t he the strongest of all?

Adam fell like a waterfall upon his son, lifting him up with his strong arms, and he lifted his daughter up too a moment later, showering them both in a great many kisses. As the trio held one another, though the girl made to speak, she heard the way her father sniffled, and she hugged his neck tight.

“You! You punks! How can you do this to me? I told you, you can stay small and cute forever! You! You’re growing up too quickly, too quickly!” Adam’s tears slipped down his face freely, as little Jirot and Jarot, too, began to tear up daddy.

“Daddy how can I stay small when you are so troublesome? I must grow up so quickly because then I can clean up all your messes daddy!”

“You! I’ll stop causing trouble if you promise to stay small and cute forever!”

“Daddy! I know it is difficult for you, and I do not wish to burden you with so much!” Jirot wrapped her arms around his head, hugging it tight. “You silly daddy!”

“You silly girl!”

“Daddy!” Jarot called.

“You silly boy!”

“No! You are silly, daddy!”

“Ah! If you say it, it must be true!” Adam declared, and he peppered the pair in kisses, swaying from side to side. “Huu! You! Since you’re going to clean up my messes, you will need so much magic to help you!”

“Yes!” Jirot said. “I will grow up quickly and I will learn magic and I will help you, daddy!”

“You! You can stay small and cute and use magic!”

“I cannot, daddy, I am too young.”

“Well…” Adam placed his twins down, though Jirot held onto his neck, hanging off it, as Jarot held his father’s hand, staring up into his eyes. “Wait, wait, I need you to get off me for a second so I can give you your gifts! They’re so good!”

Jirot relented, hopping off of her father, though his hand upon the scruff of her neck assisted her.

“You two! You’re so smart, and wise, and since I can trust you, I brought you quite the gift, but you have to promise you have to be responsible, okay?”

“Okay, daddy, okay, I promise!” Jirot declared.

“Okay, daddy…” Jarot smiled innocently, for he was a boy of innocence.

“Since you are both Iyrmen, you speak the trust, so I can trust you…” Adam reached into his pocket and retrieved two rings, those a particular Elder had managed to carve for them, for the Elder was wise, and she knew such items would assist Adam and her niece and nephew. “Here.”

“It is not a Legendary Enhanced weapon?” Jirot replied, her ears drooping.

Adam stared down at the girl.

“Daddy, you cannot give me that look, it is my birthday.”

“You are six years old now, so you cannot speak such foolishness,” Adam replied simply.

Jirot flushed. ‘Daddy is so wise these days…’

Adam dropped down and placing the fingers onto their fingers, their pointer fingers, and as he pulled back, the children let out soft gasps, for they could feel the tingle of magic.

“They are Rings of Protection, daddy?”

“No, no…” Adam smiled, and then considered how he should reveal what they do. He then picked up little Jarot’s gourd, and held it up for his son, who leaned in to drink from it. “What does it taste like?”

“Milk.”

“What do you want it to taste like?”

“Mm…” Jarot thought. “Salya?”

“Okay, so concentrate, ah, Jirot, you do it, because you might understand this sort of thing, and you can teach Jarot, okay?”

“Okay?” Jirot replied.

“Here, concentrate, and focus on the gourd to taste like salya.” Adam beckoned the girl, who sauntered over, and then placed her hands onto the gourd, and she did as her father asked, and she focused, hard, and hoped it would taste like salya, since her brother liked salya so much.

Then, a tingle spread through her fingers, and she gasped, pulling back, her mouth agape. “Daddy? I feel tingles!”

“Taste it,” Adam said.

Jarot sipped the gourd lightly, gasping, the boy’s mouth forming a tiny circle of shock, almost spilling the drink, though quickly swallowed it. “Daddy! It tastes like Salya!”

“So what do you think the rings can do?”

“We can cast Tricks!” Jirot declared, holding up her ring for the world to see. “Woa!”

“Woa!” the triplets gasped.

“It’s not just Tricks, you can cast two other spells, because although daddy indeed likes Tricks, you are the children of your mother too, so you can also cast Guidance and Stabilise.”

“Woa!” the children declared together, full of such excitement.

Adam flushed slightly, and the complex emotions swirled within his heart. “Now! You two! Remember what I told you! With great power…”

“Comes great responsibility!” Jirot declared.

“I will allow you both to wear these rings, but you have to be responsible. If you misuse them, like flavouring things badly as a joke, or because you are angry, I will take them away and put them in the bank, and then you we will all be disappointed in you. Also, you cannot use them to help you cheat on any tests or anything like that, you have to use them lightly, and fairly, and…” Adam stared at the pair. “I trust you, okay?”

“Okay!”

Adam closed his eyes once more, for they were too grown up, too mature, these children of his.

“Daddy, one day I will become the greatest Scribe Mage ever!” Jirot declared.

“One day, but not today! Okay? You have to be a good little girl today!”

“I am a good big girl, because I am six now!” Jirot declared.

“You!” Adam lifted her up, threatening her with his kisses, all the while she cackled.

‘What an Adam gift,’ Dunes thought.

07

“Daddy, I do not use magic, I am a Rage Dancer!” Jarot finally gasped.

“This allows you to use Tricks, Guidance, and Stabilise, so you can make pretty magic for mummy, and even if you are a Rage Dancer, are you not mummy’s and daddy’s son first?”

Jarot blinked. The boy flushed, smiling gently. “Yes…”

“Exactly, exactly, so you can use magic like this.” Adam picked up his son, feeling how light he was compared to his sister, and planted a gentle kiss upon his son’s soft cheek.

Little Jarot hugged his father tightly, and as he did, a shadow loomed over the pair.

“I have been patient enough,” the one whose name was also Jarot said.

“Jarot, your babo has endured his patience, so you must treat him well, okay?”

“Okay!” Jarot waddled over to his greatfather, who lifted him up with ease, as little Jirot side eyed him for a long moment, but eventually shuffled towards her greatfather, who ruffled her hair.

“My Jirot, my Jarot, you are so big, even this greatfather of yours struggles to lift you up!” Old Jarot exclaimed, his grin wide, causing his greatchildren to cackle. As he held them close to his chest, burying them in a mountain of muscle, his heart throbbed. ‘Tarot! You brat! When will you return? My greatchildren, how will they be able to bully you if they forget your face?’

Dunes smiled as the children accepted the uthur he had bought for them, the children sniffing it lightly, and they allowed him to rub it between his wrists, wiping it along their necks.

“Papo! Papo!” Jirot called, rushing to her papo, turning the side of her neck. “Do I smell good?”

“You smell good,” Jurot assured, for she smelled of a cedar, and he also brushed little Jarot’s hair, sniffing his neck lightly too, causing the boy to smile.

“Daddy, do I smell good?”

“You smell of trouble,” Adam replied, “and cedar.”

Jirot smirked.

Jaygak watched over the children, having found an excuse to visit them, but she would need to return soon. However, as the Elder, it was still somewhat awkward to give gifts, but since she was still a new Elder, she was able to make some mistakes, regardless if they were blatant.

As the children were born on the seventh, they were able to enjoy the full day of attention from their families, including the business members, who they visited, including a set of triplets, and yet…

“Where is papo Bael?”

“Ah, well, I hear that during duskval especially, he needed to rest,” Adam said, as the girl pouted. “It seems you’ll have to bully him hard.”

“It is okay, since papo Bael burnt his Spark, and he has not healed,” Jirot said, letting out a soft sigh.

“Hmm?” Adam blinked, watching his daughter saunter away.

As the children enjoyed their day, with their mother feeding them from her fingers, and Jirot held her ring out threateningly to her father, having used the magic to clean his clothes, in the most menacing way possible, a large mass of Iyrmen approached the front Iyr. They were adorned in their typical attire, though they all wore heavy cloaks of the same design, pure black, save for the white thread, and the hoods were a dark grey.

‘What the…’ Adam thought.

A few broke off from the group, and it was he, the man who wore a particular tattoo, that of the bottom half of a blue semi circle flanked by green hollowed squares on either side, the same as the bald Iyrman with a thick beard that cut off at his chest.

“Oh ho? Who are these handsome children who are so big?”

“Baba Gofev, you sure have some guts…”

“I was going to make the same joke…” Tamfev smiled. “Except, how can I confuse you for anyone else, when you are so troublesome, my Jirot?”

“As long as you know…” Jirot hugged Tamfev, and little Jarot did too, the pair trying to pull the man down, but he lifted them up with ease. “Look, baba, I can do this!”

“Hmm?” Tamfev blinked, and there, upon the corer of his hem, the tattoo of his family glowed. “Oh? You can cast magic?”

“Yes!”

“What took you so long?”

“Baba, have I shown you too much mercy?”

“Ah, sorry, my Jirot, sorry.” Tamfev turned to Jarot, raising a brow towards the boy, who smirked, and the pair cackled together.

“Daddy, daddy, he, mm, daddy gift Jarot and I this ring.”

“Me and Jarot.”

“Okay, baba, if you make one more mistake, I will think you are not as wise as the Fevs any more.”

“You must admit this baba of yours is so funny.”

“Actually, daddy, this year, he has been so funny.”

“He has?”

“Yes.”

“Your daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Your daddy, my grandnephew.”

“Yes.”

Tamfev furrowed his brows.

“I do not know how,” the girl admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

“It is no wonder we must step out, if even your father has become so funny.”

Jirot covered her lips with her hand, but they could all hear her snicker, and as she and her brother fell into laughter, Tamfev placed them down allowing them to meet the others who were about to step out.

“You are stepping out?” Malfev asked.

“It has been requested,” Tamfev replied.

Malfev spied up all those who were moving out with his son. Indeed, for they were at minimum Experts, but many were Masters, and there were a handful of Grandmasters too. There were mostly Experts, about eighty or so, or those on the way to Masters, and those who numbered Masters but were not yet Grandmasters numbered ten, and then those who were Grandmasters or greater also numbered ten.

A hundred or so, not exactly, for it seemed the Iyr allowed a few others to bolster their ranks, so they were not going out as a formal company, but rather, a rough company.

“Are there other cloaks prepared?”

“A few,” Tamfev confirmed, that was to say, at least another hundred, and perhaps more.

‘Should I step out?’ Malfev thought, and yet he thought of the children. He would not do so, not while their hearts were so wounded.

“I was going to ask aunt,” Tamfev said, reading his father’s face.

“It may be best…”

“Are you worried?”

“The Reavers are powerful.”

“The Iyr will remain in charge of us.”

“Ah? Ah. We did send out a company previously…” Malfev had forgotten, but it was their responsibility due to the treaty with the Aldishmen. He wondered if they had tried to punish that particular company.‘ Ah, Storm Boar had stepped out too to lead them…’

Storm Boar, who was the one who loved battle as much as even the Mad Dog, but was on friendly terms with the Aldishmen, for it was he who had slain beasts upon beasts, and had even managed to ingratiate himself with a great many Vice Commanders, and even the various Commanders of Aldland.

Although, all understood if the Aldish had wished to fight him, they would need to risk quite a few, for Storm Boar was a Paragon, and would, perhaps, one day take the role of one of the Ten Paragons.

08

“Nano, you are leaving too?” Jirot asked.

“I must go,” Mikan said, the beautiful woman whose hair had been cut short since they last saw her, her bronze skin, dark eyes, and even darker hair almost glistening under the duskval sun. The greatblade upon her black was also not the same as she had wielded previously, for it was plain white, the blade itself slightly curved.

Jirot stared at the sword. “Nano, I will miss you…”

“I will miss you too, but I must slay the Reavers,” the woman replied, reaching down to pinch the girl’s cheek.

Jirot glanced aside, noting her mother wasn’t looking, and she leaned in to whisper into her nano’s ear. “Nano, you must… beat up one or two for me, okay?”

“I will beat up six, since you are six, and I will beat up another six, since Jarot is six, and I will beat up one more, so there is a baker’s dozen, and I will enjoy the last.”

“If you are going to beat them up, what am I to do?” Jirot replied, shrugging her shoulders, their gazes holding on another’s for a long while, the two almost smirking.

“Nano, I will tell babo to go with you, he will protect you,” little Jarot said.

“I am quite strong,” Mikan said, flexing her muscles, and though she was older, she was still a Kan.

“My babo is the strongest,” Jarot replied, his eyes staring innocently into hers.

“Even if your babo is the strongest, I am strong too.” Mikan pinched his cheeks, the boy far too innocent, and too cute, to be bullying her like this. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

“Yes!” the twins replied.

“Did you eat some cake?”

“Mhmm!”

“Ah? I brought some cake, and it is too much for me, so you must eat…” Mikan paused, her eyes meeting little Jarot’s. “Just a little bit, okay?”

“Okay…” Little Jarot flushed, accepting a tiny portion from his nano, and Jirot ate the rest, though she also held it up for her nano to eat.

It was then a shadow loomed over the twins, adorned in black, with a grey hood. “Do I look cool?”

“Nano! You look so cool!” Jirot declared. “You are leaving too?”

“I must,” Shayfev replied. “My nephew is stepping out, and his father is worried, because…”

“Baba Tamfev, he is so troublesome…” Jirot held Shayfev’s gaze, noting the way the woman’s jaw tensed.

“Yes, it is Tamfev who is most troublesome…” Shayfev replied, holding Jirot’s gaze, seeing the way the girl closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

“Nano, nano, did you know? Nano is so strong.”

“Ah?” Mikan replied.

“Yes. Nano beat up Waxing Moon in flesh and bone.”

“I do recall.”

“Nano, last year, also killed Wandering Spear.”

“At least this time you saw the fight,” Shayfev grumbled quietly.

“Nano it is my birthday today, you cannot bully me.”

“I will bully you because it is your birthday.”

“Ah. Of coas!”

“Of coas!” they echoed.

“Jirot,” called a voice, as Konarot rushed over, followed by the two. “Mummy is calling you.”

“Ock! Nano, nano, I must go, mummy is calling me.”

“Should I steal you away from your mummy?” Mikan teased.

“Iyrmen do not steal,” Jirot said.

“Ah. Of coas.”

“Of coas!”

The children returned to their mother, who cleaned them up lightly, and allowed those who were stepping out to come and greet them, each allowing the twins to shake their fingers and wish them good luck, and for those the twins recognised, they made sure to tease them properly. It was not just them, however, for many of the Iyr’s children swarmed the complex and greeted those who were to be stepping out soon.

“I should probably step out too,” Adam said, since in a couple of days, it would be that day.

As the one hundred or so Iyrmen settled themselves, Mulrot held the twins within her arms, who were tired from all the play that day.

“Jiwoh!” Ranya called, rushing up to the girl, climbing up beside her, although Virot heard Ranya’s voice, and rushed over too.

“Ranya! You are not sleeping?”

“No!” Ranya declared, but she hugged her cousin, and Jirot held the girl.

Virot made to whine, but Jarot called for her, and held the girl, and little Damrot looked up towards his greatmother with a pout, but thankfully Kavgak waddled by, and noticed little Damrot, and rushed over to him, swallowing him whole within her arms.

“Damroh, sad?”

Damrot flushed slightly, but shook his head, as Kavgak planted a firm kiss on his cheek.

“Damroh, my nephew,” the girl explained, as if Mulrot didn’t know, but she let out a soft sound of gaining wisdom, and nodded.

Adam yawned lightly, staring at his children, all the while he was pinned down by his triplets. Then a blue moon appeared, except she was no moon. “Mercy, Amalrot.”

Amalrot climbed up over his legs, and lay down against them, resting her head on the pillow to the side, trapping her brother down.

A shadow formed over Adam.

“Brother, do you need my help?” Lanarot asked.

“Please…”

“Brother, you do not need my help, for nothing is wrong.” Lanarot smirked, sauntering off.

‘Okay, I need to figure out how these punks have become so funny.’

Jurot’s eyes trailed after his sister, who winked at him, and continued to saunter off to her mother. ‘My sister is hilarious.’

That night, the twins cuddled up to their mother, while Virot and Damrot slept on either side of their father, and though Virot made to complain, it was Jirot who kissed her face, and calmed her down.

‘You are growing up so well,’ Jirot had thought.

It was the same thought as her mother, who felt the girl’s head against her shoulder, the way her breath tickled the side of her neck. She could feel her son’s breath too, though the boy sucked his thumb, and though he was typically so shy, he had half engulfed his mother in his embrace, his leg over her stomach, his head buried against her shoulder, and his other hand gripping her shirt tight, as though trapping his mother.

Vonda recalled how they looked all those years ago, barely larger than apples. She closed her eyes, smiling.

‘Mummy, you must sleep with us tonight, because even if we are a big girl and boy, we are still your children,’ Jirot had declared.

Vonda, in her heart, too, hoped the children would not grow too quickly.

The next day, it was not only the hundred or so Iyrmen who stepped out, but a particular fool of a half elf, who disappeared without saying anything.

“What?” Jirot gasped. “Daddy is gone?”

“He is.”

Jirot’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Vonda could see how her daughter was beginning to process the information, until she finally opened her mouth once more, in utter shock.

“Mummy. I am going to beat daddy up.”

“Okay.”

“Daddy is so funny…” Jarot whispered.

“Funny?”

“Daddy is pretending he left, but he will return soon,” Jarot said.

Jirot raised a brow to her brother. “Why?”

“Tomorrow…” Jarot explained.

Jirot gasped. “Mummy! We have to leave today!”

Vonda wondered if the Iyr would be able to prepare for them leaving that day.

09

A pair of amber eyes glared towards him.

“It would have been really funny thought,” Adam said.

“Clean your neck, you brat!” Jirot exclaimed, rolling up her sleeve.

Thankfully, that evening, the girl showed mercy to her father, though she slept over his torso.

As the next day came to them, Adam held out a ring.

“What is this?” Shayfev asked.

“It’s the same as the ring I handed to the twins. It’ll be able to flavour your food and clean your clothes as you make your way.”

“Ah!”

Adam turned, noting his wife was dealing with Virot, who was in the middle of crying because she did not wish to wear that particular colour of clothes that day. “When you beat them up, make sure you’re at full morale.”

Shayfev smiled, reaching over to ruffle his hair. ‘He really is his father’s daughter…’

As the hundred or so Iyrmen began to march through the village, the villagers watched on, as many of the older folk recognised a great many of the faces, some forgotten to time, but many of the young villagers hadn’t seen most of those stepping out, save for a handful, some of whom had stepped out in the last few years, and at least one who had even stepped out and returned somewhat recently.

‘Why did we have to come out?’ John thought, holding his three boys, each now three years old, and, somehow, Adam hadn’t mentioned it, though he noted the looked from the half elf, with the understanding he was plotting something.

The girl sat upon her mother’s lap. She stared out towards the world, especially all the strangers, and as she turned to look towards her beautiful mother, she heard the woman’s soothing voice, and she smiled shyly, withdrawing to her bosom.

“She looks so much like you!” Adam said, reaching out to pinch her cheeks, though realised how inappropriate that was, so quickly pulled back before he touched her. “My, my, my, she’s growing up so well. Has it already been a year?”

“It has, and she eats so much, so she should grow up, shouldn’t you, Joy?”

The girl smiled towards her mother. “Mama…”

“Well, since it’s her first birthday, I prepared a little something,” Adam said, revealing a ring, causing Jirot and Jarot to snap their heads towards it. It looked somewhat familiar, though the design on the front was of a sun. “Although, I suppose you won’t be able to use it, since you’re too young, so I’ll give it to your mother, who’ll be able to use it so she can spend more time with you.”

“Use it?” Merl asked, and as Adam placed it onto her palm. Merl gasped. It was the unmistakeable feeling of a magical item.

“You can cast Guidance, Tricks, and Stabilise. So, if someone needs some light assistance now and again, you can help. Instead of spending hours a day on washing clothes, just use Tricks, and you can flavour food and water with it, though you still need to eat nutritious meals, and if anyone drops down, but isn’t outright dead, you can, well, Stabilise them.”

Merl stared at Adam, her face filling with stress, her heart thumping wildly into her chest. As she made to speak, she swallowed.

“Thank you, Executive,” Nobby said.

“I would have brought you something too, Nobby, but I suppose we’re all too old to be doing that sort of thing, so just accept all the stuff I brought for little Merry.” Adam peeked down at the boy, who flushed lightly, and buried his head within his father’s chest. “I brought some games, chess and the sort, although you need to be careful in case either of the children try to eat the items, and I brought some hats and scarves and ribbons from Aswadasad, and even a little turban for little Merry.”

As Adam showered the pair in his gifts, Merry smiled wider, holding onto the turban.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Daddy…” Jirot eventually whispered, raising her brows. “Do not bully my cousins.”

The girl spoke in the fiery tongue, just in case John heard.

“Fine, fine.” Adam turned towards John, smiling innocently, and then once they said their goodbyes, leaving the woman stressed, since Adam hadn’t mentioned the various other bits of, thankfully mundane, jewellery too, of silver and gold for the pair of children.

“…”

“I can’t,” Nobby replied finally.

Merl reached up to her forehead. Even if Nobby was the strongest in the village, even he was barely a tree against the mountain known as Adam. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, since Adam and his brother had been the one to pluck him from being a porter and turned him into someone who could claim first place in a tournament against even other Iyrmen.

It was then a shadow loomed upon her cabin, and as the knock echoed through, there as he.

“I have brought gifts,” Jurot said, revealing the shields and axes for the one and three year old.

Merl closed her eyes and prayed.

“What, do you think because you look so cute I’m going to spoil you?” Adam asked, as the triplets were now adorned in their shalwars and turbans. It was they, from East Port, who smiled innocently, and as Adam peeked down at them, he gave in to them.

“Executive, this is too much,” John said.

“If you have a problem, gain the strength to defeat me,” Adam replied, handing a gold bar worth close to a hundred gold to Tristaen, the boys feeling how heavy the bars were, though John quickly took them away, since they could accidentally hurt themselves and each other.

“It is too much, Executive,” John stated firmly.

“Take it,” a young woman said, her arms crossed. “He intends to take you next year to train you against the Reavers, and this much should be granted to them in case you pass.”

“Why do you have to say it like that?” Adam grumbled. “Besides, why is he going to die if you’re going to protect him?”

“Even I would struggle against some,” Nirot replied.

“Anyway, anyway, I’ll raise him to an Expert while we face against the Reavers, and with his magical sword, armour, and shield, and the magic I’ll teach him, he’ll be fine.”

“He is not used to fighting like we are, and even if you raise him into an Expert, his heart may not be ready.”

“Since you’re so naturally talented, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Adam smiled.

“Here!” Jirot declared, taking Garaeth’s hand, placing down an amber. “Do not eat it! It is not for eating, it is for playing.”

“P’ay?” Garaeth asked.

“You can pay with it too, for it is worth a hundred gold.”

Garaeth gasped.

“Give it to your daddy, he will take care of it.”

“Daddy!” Garaeth called, as Owaen, too, held an amber, from Jarot, and then finally Tristaen held one, thanks to Virot, all the while Damrot prepared to give them their daggers formed of such fine steel.

“Hurry up, kako,” Jirot said in the Iyr’s tongue, her eyes full of the glare of a mother who wished for grandchildren. “Papo is so reluctant to allow me to spoil my cousins…”

Nirot flushed.

Jurot had returned at the perfect time, carrying three shields, and three axes.

‘Magical what?’ John reached up to rub his forehead.

10

The group quickly returned to the Iyr that day, and by the next day, Adam was already enchanting.

“I’m sure we’ve had this conversation a hundred times, but we have jeticule, except, I think we need something different so I can rip off the nobles,” Adam said, feeding his son from his fingers, the boy eating the shredded chicken, and as his father brought a carrot to his lips, the boy chewed on it all the same, for he was his aunt’s nephew.

“Jaghi has its steel,” Jurot offered.

“Right, I guess we could speak with them…” Adam thought, considering Jaghi. ‘Their steel was pretty nice last I recall.’

Xarot squirmed against his father, and as he caught his father’s gaze, the half elves glaring between one another. “Oobagaga!”

“Do you think I won’t kiss you?” Adam threatened. The boy blinked, and in that blink, his father pressed his lips firmly against the boy’s head. The boy flushed lightly and squealed. “The war drove up the prices and we didn’t end up doing much to gain influence…”

“There were many issues to deal with,” Jurot replied simply, although if Adam didn’t consider even the Faro or Amira, how much influence did he wish to possess?

“We should try and make a deal with the Grand Duchess of East Port for a…” Adam rubbed his head. “Right, right, we can’t with Aldland because of what they did. I suppose, should I speak to the Faro or the Amira?”

“We have the Amira’s plaque.”

“We do?”

“She granted us a plaque the previous year.”

“Oh yeah…” Adam furrowed his brows. “If I had remembered that I might have been a little nicer…”

“…”

“I guess I’ll need to figure out a way to make a ton of gold soon then…”

A shadow loomed over the pair of them.

“Considering your conversation, it seems I have arrived on time,” Jaygak said, smiling innocently.

“What’s up?”

Jaygak held a letter, and though she held it out to Adam, she pulled it back as a particular little boy reached for it with his hands, those which were covered in bits of food and saliva.

“Eyeh!” Xarot threatened.

“Even your elder sister cannot defeat me,” Jaygak stated.

“Eyah!” Xarot held up his fist.

“You can always trust the greatson of the Mad Dog to behave this way even to an Elder…”

“Hmm…” The boy lowered his fists, for since the Elder had paid him his respect, he allowed her mercy. It was not because his father had slipped a slice of cheese into his mouth, which would cause his clothy to suffer soon.

Once Adam had put the boy down, wiping his face and hands, washing them a moment later, he checked the letter. It was filled with requests from a pair of nobles.

Adam’s eyes slowly trailed to Jaygak. “They both want basically the same things?”

“They had also gifted the Iyr a separate sum of silver.”

“How much?”

“I will tell you if you wish to know.”

“Of co-,” Adam began, only to close his eyes. “I must be going mad…”

Jaygak smiled innocently. “There may be other requests you will receive soon, from other figures from Aswadasad, and perhaps even Northern Aldland.”

Adam raised his brows.

“They are a separate entity, courtesy of the Grand Duchess.”

“I see…” Adam considered that scary old woman. “Oh, by the way, how’s the Knight of Death?”

“I hear he has recently stepped onto the battlefield.”

“The Reavers?”

“Yes.”

“I guess there aren’t going to be any more Reavers for us then…” Adam mused.

“It seems he underwent training to return to his previous strength, and it is rumoured he may have reached the Peak.”

“Really?” Adam raised his brow. The last time he had fought the fellow, he had somehow defeated him, but if he had reached the Peak he was like Isam, the Poison Sword Dragon, who had almost bisected him. “I should probably prepare a gift for him…”

“Have you thought about the enchantments?” Jaygak asked.

“I was thinking about being boring and making everything 2D6, increased ability to Critical Hit, and for any heavier weapons, maybe 3D6?”

“An acceptable set of enchantments, but what about for the warriors, the… Fighters.”

“Yeah, that’s the issue, isn’t it? Maybe I should also add on something utility based like…” Adam thought for a moment. “I could make them quicker, or… I mean, I don’t know, maybe that can be the next weapon we end up gifting them. I was, actually, thinking maybe instead, adding an additional die of elemental damage of some kind? I mean, yeah, maybe holy damage? Like the-, oh, I mean, yeah. They can glow, deal holy damage. They’ll be slightly empowered versions of the swords we sell to the Amira and the Faro…”

Jaygak smiled, noting how Adam was looking towards her, as though asking her for permission. “Once you figure out the specifics, you may speak to me.”

“Glowing blades which everyone will be able to see us wielding, and we’ll kill the Reavers that way…” Adam considered them. “I might have to make them Basic Enhanced, just so we have enough to go around?”

“I believe the Enhanced may be more important than Basic or Greater in that situation.”

“Yeah…” Adam slowly nodded his head. “You may be right.”

It was at that time many continued to train, and as the rain began to fall through duskval, a great many could feel their hearts taken by the cold winds of duskval.

Luna checked the books, noting all the coin they had spent, and then the slip of paper the Executive had handed over. ‘TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND GOLD?’

Aria panted lightly, having finished her workout. A shadow by the name of Laygak formed over her, and she quickly stood up, bowing her head respectfully.

“I see you are training well,” Laygak said, as the woman stood, panting lightly.

“Yes… Manager?”

“I suppose I might possess an alternative title to Manager…” Laygak joked, smiling innocently. He turned, glancing aside to the other warriors, except, when it came to the other warriors, there were many who were good, but for each individual who was good, there was one who was great, too. It was a good thing many possessed the qualities to become great warriors, greater than he at least, but Aria was unique, in that, somehow, her greatest weakness was that she was good at everything. So few possessed no weaknesses like her, and certainly, she was stronger and tougher than she was agile, intelligent, wise, or charismatic, but she was truly that amazing.

Laygak continued to greet the others and compliment them, Theo, who was older, but would have made Mad Dog proud with his strength and fortitude, Thomas, who was perhaps only a half step behind Aria in some ways, and a step above in other ways, and even Alfie possessed beyond the minimum qualification, and though he, too, possessed no real weakness, it wasn’t quite at the level of Aria. Laygak wondered how Tommy and Isaac, who were almost teens, would rank between them. Then there was Freddie, who was working hard, and though he wasn’t as talented as his cousin, Nobby, he was more than decent.

‘Esther and Samuel are training hard to be Rage Dancers, and Amos requires steel, but they are decent too… To think that Samuel and Amos might be considered the least talented, and yet they certainly possess greater talent than himself, and each would be decent enough to be picked up in the various Orders.

Laygak smiled.

“If you are worrying that much…” Faool began, but seeing the way Laygak was embracing the world around him, he decided not to speak about that.

Laygak then made his way to check on Rick, who was training with Greg and Charley, the two figures who were large and wielded greatweapons with almost as much ease as Iyrmen.

‘It seems they are training hard to step out next year…’ Laygak thought.

He, too, was swinging his blade late in the night. He swung his blade at least a hundred time in the morning, in each of the various ways he was taught.

It would, in some way, be his last song.