[1751-1760] - Y07.251-260 – Nightval Will Come (Patreon)

I

The festival was soon upon them, and Lucy lifted up Jirot and Jarot, wrestling them into her arms, for she had trained so hard, she deserved this, she assumed.

“…” Virot flushed lightly, looking away from Mara, the girl having learnt to do so from Jarot, and as Mara turned to look towards Damrot, the boy, too, looked away.

Adam sipped on the hot tea, relaxing opposite his wife, who reached out to pinch his nose, and as he furrowed his brows towards her, she smiled.

“You have been working so much, I am allowed to do so.”

“Darling, if you flirt so openly…” Adam glanced aside, towards Pam, who was already showing her thickness, while Jurot sat beside her, cutting pieces of fruit, and Adam sipped his tea lightly. ‘I suppose it would be nice if they were born…’

A moment passed.

Two moments passed.

Three moments passed.

‘The middle of noonval? That’s too warm…’

Pamarot crawled, her bum shifting this way and that way, until she managed to grab onto her father’s leg, and he lifted her up with a single hand, the girl squealing with delight, teeth peeking out towards her father, who brought her onto his lap and held her tight.

“Kekeke!” Pamarot squealed with delight.

“Pamarot, what’s blue and is really big?” Adam called.

“Oo?”

“The Sky!”

“Sai!” Pamarot declared, laughing wildly, as though Adam had told the greatest of jokes.

Adam smirked playfully towards his wife, who thought to tease him back, but she reached out and tapped along his skin with a finger, from the side of his hand, to his wrist, then around his fingers, until Adam’s fingers formed almost a spider, and the two fought using their fingers, jabbing each other.

Lani yawned, though finished her prayers, for training Elif had been quite difficult, not because Elif was too weak, but because it was rather dangerous, for if she pressed the young woman too much, they might harm themselves, but quickly Elif was beginning to grow used to the sound of steel, and the feeling in her body that allowed her to fight openly.

As the festival continued, a great many enjoyed its bounty.

“Are you going next year?” Masha, the green scaled drakken asked, drinking her wine.

“I might as well, for they are passing out magical weapons for it,” Roman replied, rubbing along his gold scale, stretching his neck lightly.

“Is that the only reason?”

“It is the main reason.” Rohan grinned wide, causing Masha to howl in laughter, and the two raised their cups.

“Magical weapons!” they declared in the Aldish tongue, just in case the Iyrmen thought communicating in the tongue of dragons was cause enough to fight them during the festival.

Lisa stabbed into her potato, glancing aside towards the pair of triplets, who were enjoying their meals, one some potatoes others some fish, and yet those eating the fish were related to those twins, it was the other set of triplets who enjoyed their potatoes.

Robin stared at the sky, that which had turned purple from evening. She closed her eyes, feeling the ache in her body. Training for an entire year had managed to form the foundation she needed, and she had already begun to learn how to dance within her anger, as the Iyrmen would say. Although Nirot and Jurot had stepped out, there were still many Rage Dancers within the Iyr who could teach her, and they did so eagerly.

‘Should I step out next year?’ Robin thought, the woman considering her strength, and how the Reavers could probably cleave her head in a single motion.

‘Should I marry an Iyrman?’ Zack thought, and as he considered it, he recalled the lack of will he possessed to be a great warrior. ‘I suppose I should become an Expert and then marry an Iyrman? That should be enough?’

Jax sat opposite Mohammed, the pair playing dragonchess, although Mohammed, like always, won, although taught the Noskan a few techniques. Thankfully, when it came to dice, neither of them needed to be smart, so as they piled their coppers.

Jax blinked.

Mohammed blinked.

The first roll was a snake eyes for Jax.

It was a twelve for Mohammed.

“Gods take me,” Jax whispered.

Mohammed poured the Noskan a cup of tea.

Vadim yawned, and after accepting the medicine from the half elf, it did not quite burn him the same way. He stared at the dragonchess set before him, his eyes trailing up to his grandson, who stared at the field before him with such intensity. The boy was sharper now, he noticed. A season within the Iyr, clashing steel with a great many, including the likes of those related to Duteous Dogek and Bloodblade Shasen, it had sharpened Hakam’s steel enough that perhaps he did not need to worry about him stepping out next year?

“Jiddo?”

“Betta?”

Hakam wanted to say he wanted to marry soon so the old man could hold onto his great grandchild soon, but decided against it. “it is cheap to use the Axe and Shield against your grandson.”

“If my grandson does not like it, he can learn other openings.”

“I don’t like dragonchess…” Hakam grumbled lightly.

Vadim laughed, for he was certainly his father’s son, and he reached over and rubbed his grandson’s ear gently.

It was at that time, a particular set of twins were causing trouble.

“Kako, kako, you cannot bully them.”

Lucy gasped. “What!”

“I know, I know, you are jealous, you think you will lose us, but you must have faith.”

Lucy blinked. How did she know? “You are too wise.”

“Of coas.”

“Of coas!” came the echo.

Lucy inhaled sharply, glaring at the twins for a moment, but since Jirot had asked her to show mercy, she showed mercy, instead pulling away, but not before picking up Jirot and Jarot, and sauntering off.

Mara smiled to the twins and walked away.

The Twin Steel Sabres watched them go. They wondered how their mentor, the Weal and Woe Sabres, would react if they knew they were hanging around demons.

‘Will the Executive be able to protect us?’

However, the Iyrmen children, even their mentor would be fine with that, even if they did look… special.

II

It was the last day of the festival when it finally happened, as the chill of duskval gave way to the chill of nightval, welcoming it soon.

Pamarot placed her hand upon her papo’s knee, glancing up towards him, her eyes full of such curiosity for the world.

Adam blinked. “Pamarot?”

The girl smiled, cackling lightly, for she was her cousin’s cousin, and the girl waddled upon her feet towards her father, grabbing onto his knee with both hands, stopping herself from falling.

The brothers glanced between one another. The Iyrman lifted his daughter up, feeling her weight within his hands, staring deep into her eyes. The girl squealed and smiled, and Jurot held her out towards the world, as if to declare that all should look upon her.

Indeed, they should.

“My daughter is a genius,” Jurot stated, and within his heart, it was true. His voice was soft and gentle, full of pride.

“Pamarot! You’re a genius! A genius!” Adam half exclaimed, causing the girl to smile and squeal, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“Pamarot, come!” Jirot held out her hands for the girl, and as Jurot placed her down, the girl swayed lightly upon her feet, and then began to waddle over to her cousin. The pair hugged, and as Pamarot squealed once more, full of delight, Jirot’s heart flooded with warmth. “Kako, kako, Pamarot is a genius!”

“She must be so, because she is your papo’s daughter,” Pam joked, though her lips formed a wide smile. Pam was covered in a blanket, which hid her stomach from the world, all the while she held out a hand towards her daughter, who reached for her mother’s hand, snatching it.

Jirot cackled, though she refused to surrender Pamarot. The tiny babe sucked on her thumb, smiling as she held onto Jirot’s shoulder with her free hand, squeezing her shoulder gently, as if to tell the girl she was still there.

“Good job, Pamarot!” Konarot declared, reaching out to brush the girl’s hair.

“You walk so well!” Kirot stated.

“Wow…” Karot whispered. He remembered when the girl had just been born, and how small she had been. Now…

The rest of the children all gathered around little Pamarot, showering her in praise and affection, until she was finally claimed by her father once more, and little Jarot climbed up beside his uncle and his cousin, whom he called his sister.

“Did you see?” Adam asked, picking up Damrot. “Your sister, she walked so well, didn’t she?”

“Yeah!” Damrot half exclaimed, the boy smiling so brightly, beaming with a delight only he could reveal upon his pearly white teeth. The boy was meek, but not with his smiles.

“Since you walk so much, she must have learned it from you?”

Damrot flushed lightly at his papo’s word, and as Monarot shuffled in beside her grandmother, she blinked, seeing all the children together with her father and papo, and she charged in too. Jurot let Pamarot down, and the girl stood, tall and firm, like a thin tree in a storm, and she waddled her way to her sister, who caught her in a hug. Monarot furrowed her brows to her father and papo slightly, tilting her head.

“Did you see?” Jurot asked.

“Your sister can walk?” Adam mused.

Monarot’s mouth dropped open in a gasp, and she held her sister tighter, and she planted a firm kiss on Pamarot’s cheek, causing the girl to squeal even louder, cackling with delight, for indeed, she had learnt such from her cousin sister, who called the girl her sister.

‘They are so affectionate, these children of ours…’

As darkness claimed the sky, the children made their way to sleep, with the old Mad Dog claiming his Karot, while Mulrot claimed Konarot and Kirot, though they slept beside one another, with Konarot in the middle.

Elsewhere, a green skinned girl, with amber eyes, stared at the ceiling. She had brushed her teeth and had changed into her night attire. Her head rested against her father’s stomach. It was comfortable.

“When we left the Iyr to Aswadasad, Pamarot could not crawl,” Jirot mused, her mind wandering. “Now she can crawl, and she can walk…”

“Exactly.” Adam sighed slightly.

“Pamarot is growing up so quickly…”

“She is.”

“The next thing you know, daddy, she will be talking, and then, and then, and then she will be in school…” Jirot turned her head, towards her father, her eyes taking in his. As she blinked, she crawled up against her father, staring deep into his eyes, holding onto his shoulder. “I understand now, daddy.”

“What do you understand?”

“I am happy… I am sad.”

Adam smiled, wrapping an arm around the girl. “Why are you happy?”

“I am sad too, daddy!”

“I know, I know, I’m asking you why you’re happy first.”

“I am happy because… Pamarot, she is so smart, and when I talk to her, she listens, and when I tell her to come and kiss me, she knows to kiss me, but before, she did not.”

“Why are you sad?”

“When she is big, she will be big by herself, and I will be lonely, and she will be lonely, and then what can I do, daddy?”

‘Why is my daughter a genius?’ Adam thought, brushing along the back of the girl’s head, feeling her thick locks between his fingers. “That’s true. As she grows older, she might need you as much any more, but that’s good, because then other children will need you, and they will need her, and because you raised her so well, she will also raise them well.”

“Daddy, one day, you did not know how to walk or talk, but then you know how to walk and talk, and you taught it to me?”

“Basically, although, you taught yourself mostly, since you are so smart.”

“Yes, I am so smart…” Jirot nestled her head against her father’s neck, feeling his warmth against her cheek. Yet, the girl’s words were melancholic. She sniffled lightly, and sniffed her father’s gentle scent, reaching out to clutch his collar, so he could not escape. “Daddy, I am still small, so you must take care of me, okay?”

“Okay…” Adam rested his cheek against hers, and his other hand rubbed along his son’s leg gently, squeezing it, causing the boy to crawl over to his father’s chest. “One day, I will be so old, and then I will be unable to take care of myself, and you will have to take care of me.”

“Babo is old, but he is so healthy.”

“Babo is babo.”

“Ah. Of coas.”

“Of coas!”

The girl smiled, and her eyes scaled her father’s face gently. As she stared at his face, he turned to meet her gaze, the two staring into one another’s eyes. “Daddy, you are a half elf, so you will live so long…”

“You will too, thanks to your necklaces, right?”

“Mm…” Jirot rested her head against his chest. “Daddy, one day, you will die?”

Vonda turned her head, having been in the middle of her prayer.

Adam smiled awkwardly, but he leaned in to kiss the top of her head. “Yes.”

“I will tell Baktu not to take you,” Jirot said. “Not until I am done bullying you.”

Adam closed his eyes, choking as he tried not to laugh. “Thank you so much, my dear.”

“You are most welcome, daddy.”

It was during that night, before nightval would come to greet them, Damrot snuggled up to his father, as Virot snuggled up to her papo from the other side, the Iyrman’s arms engulfing the pair of them.

“Daddy, Pamarot is so good at walking,” Damrot said.

“Yes.”

“Pamarot is so smart.”

“Yes.”

“One day, Pamarot will be better at walking than me?”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Mm. Pamarot is a genius.”

“Ah. Of course.”

“Of course!” the two replied, and they cackled.

Jurot’s lips twitched into a smile, and as the two began to suck their thumbs and sleep, Jurot stared up at the ceiling. The children were soon to turn four, and although they had begun their potty training, in a year they would make their way to schooling, and then they would grow even smarter than they were now. Jurot was glad to see Damrot took after his mother with his intelligence, but he let out a low sigh, closing his eyes, for perhaps one day, soon even, his son would not need his arms any more…

He now understood his grandfather’s words.

III

“Nightval is the time for resting,” she said, for she was so wise, this green skinned girl, her amber eyes glaring up towards her father expectantly.

“I must assist the Iyr,” Adam replied simply, causing his daughter to look away, who huffed, inhaled deeply to make to fight, but seeing her mother’s eyes, the girl turned her head even further, swallowing the bitterness that was her father’s foolishness. As Xarot ate from Adam’s fingers, the half elf considered how he should spoil the children, especially since they would only study for an hour each day. ‘Should I ask Vonda to…’

“No, I must work hard, since you are working so hard too,” Vonda said, for having heard Adam would continue to Awaken the Iyrmen, how could she step back now?

“Darling…” Adam frowned lightly. ‘Should I step back? No, no, I need to Awaken the Iyrmen, so that way there’s five who can help us out, and those from before, they should be enough to ease the Iyr’s heart. However, Adam’s eyes turned to the side, towards his children, whom were wearing slightly thicker clothing, and were kissing and hugging one another before they went to school, not just his own, but his small cousins too.

‘What should I do?’

As the children returned, finding their mother and father were missing, the girl pouted, her eyes narrowing, and she began her plots, until a shadow formed over the girl.

“Hmm?” Jarot mused, staring down at his five greatchildren. “It is time for training.”

Jirot blinked.

As the children began their training, which included eating food with their greatfather, who read them a tale, and then let Jirot a tale, and then allowed him to feed them from his fingers, until, finally, they were allowed to play, before finishing off their training with real training, and a gentle bath.

However, the old man noticed just how much energy the triplets possessed, and he made them run around even more, before finally they returned for their gentle bath, and at noon, they slept hard. After their nap, they were full of greater energy, and as their elders each accepted the children, allowing them to bother them with this and that, he noticed the triplets continued to possess energy within them.

‘When it snows…’ Jarot thought, but then he recalled his grandson’s words.

'Make sure the other children don't see them sleeping in the snow.'

‘My greatchildren are too talented,’ Jarot thought.

As the days passed, their kakos and papos also joined them for training. As the old Jarot trained them generally, the other Iyrmen began more specific training.

“I will teach you,” Jurot said.

“Okay,” little Jarot replied.

“I will watch over you,” Kitool said.

“Okay,” little Jirot replied. She held her kako’s gaze, though quickly narrowed her eyes, as she understood Kitool was here to keep her out of trouble.

Naqokan picked up Konarot, who had made it obvious she had wished to learn the greatsword, and as the two held one another’s gazes, they side eyed one another.

“Hello,” Kirot called.

“Hello,” the grey skinned woman replied, who was almost as old as the girl’s greatfather. She was muscular, and was adorned in heavy chain, for she felt it most comfortable, and carried upon her back a maul that was almost as tall as her. “Do you know who I am?”

“Maywyx, the Iron Terror,” Kirot replied.

“How did you know?”

“You use a maul,” the girl replied, half an accusation, half an explanation. “I am Jirot’s elder sister, second eldest, and I am mummy’s daughter.”

“I suppose if I use a maul, and that you are Jirot’s elder sister, second eldest, and you are your mother’s daughter, then, certainly, you know I am Maywyx, the Iron Terror,” Maywyx replied, and the Grandmaster reached down to brush the girl’s cheek.

Karot blinked. He smiled up towards the Iyrman.

It was Tanagek and Chosen who had argued to teach the boy, who had gifted them such a wonderful sword.

‘I should teach him, for he is a Rage Dancer, and he wishes to wield a sword and shield.’

‘It is my aunt who is his grandmother,’ Tanagek replied, and the two glared between one another.

As the two fought, a shadow had loomed over them.

‘Do you think I am as merciful as granduncle Malfev?’ the Iyrman asked.

“Papo…” Karot called, smiling shyly.

“I will do my best to teach you,” Laygak said, smiling in return, for since the boy liked a sword and shield, it should be him. As he taught the boy, he noticed the boy’s shyness, a greater shyness, and he picked up the boy within his arms. “What is wrong, Karot?”

“Papo…”

“You may speak to me, for you are my nephew, and it is my grandaunt who is your greatmother, yes?”

“I do not want to be the Blood Seeking Sword…” Karot whispered.

“What do you wish to be called?”

“Mm…” The boy hid his head within his uncle’s chest.

“Perhaps, since you are Ray Vonda’s son, the Ray Seeking, ah, no, the Sun Seeking Sword? Or, perhaps, the Hope Seeking Sword? The Hope Preaching Sword? The Hopeful Sword?”

“The Hopeful Soad…” the boy mumbled.

“I will think of a better title, but do not worry, I will teach you the sword and shield, and you will learn greater techniques when you are older, okay?”

“Okay!”

‘To think this nephew of mine is so soft in the heart…’ Laygak thought, and though the worry bloomed, it withered under the boy’s smile. ‘No, no, since he is his father’s son, and his sisters’ brother, I should not worry.’

As the children began their training, the others also trained hard, not just the children, not just their papos or kakos, and not just their babas and nanas.

‘To think they would steal my greatchildren away from me…’ the old Jarot thought, huffing to himself. ‘It seems I must teach them a lesson…’

Since he was who he was, there was only one way to do it.

IV

As Adam returned a particular evening, he found the eyes of his children shifting from delight to worry, and as he smiled, he reached down to pinch their cheeks.

“Daddy…” Jirot sniffled. “If you look like this, how can I be so upset with you?”

“I suppose I’ll have to do this more often so my daughter isn’t upset?”

“I will be even more upset!” Jirot promised, but the two embraced one another so affectionately, the girl rubbing the back of her father’s head, feeling his hair between her thick fingers. “You are working so hard, daddy…”

“I suppose so, but haven’t mummy and aila worked hard too?”

“Daddy! You are trying to upset me!” Jirot accused, her blade like finger almost attacking her father, poking his nose gently as she glared up towards him.

“No, no, I’m not trying to do that, but we’re all working hard for the Iyr, since there is so much to do, and we must assist the Iyr where we can…” Adam stared down at his daughter, who continued to glare up towards him, even though he made sense, too much sense, and seeing her face, he could see she was riling herself up. “However, when Twilight Month comes, won’t I be able to play with you freely?”

“You said that before…”

“Indeed, but this time, you must speak with the Elder, and inform her that your father must play with you all Twilight long, right?”

“It seems you truly are mummy’s husband…” Jirot’s eyes narrowed. “Even babo is working hard too. Babo, he picks up a rivership on his back, and then he squats, like this!”

“Whoa!” Adam gasped as his daughter squatted. “So cool!”

“So cool!” the children confirm, and with that, their eyes fell upon their greatfather, who was lightly drinking his tea before the other elder Iyrmen, as though pretending as though he wasn’t basking in their adoration.

“Kako Naqokan is teaching me so well,” Konarot said. “Daddy, you must gift her a nice sword. It must be a big sword.”

“Ah, I see? I hear she’s been training with babo Steel Strike, but she must be training you before she trains?”

“Mm!”

“I see…” Adam thought about how he had wished to train too, but with the Awakening, and how he was so sick after it, he only had two weeks of the month to train. His eyes darted to Uwajin, who was in the middle of snoozing away, for she had been training hard with her grandfather, Rajin, all the while Rajin sipped away at one of the wines he was brewing, for he fought her with a clear mind, and then spoke tales with a mound clouded by the joy of alcohol. ‘I need to train even harder then…’

Chosen let out a soft yawn, looking down towards Karot, who was running his own game of Warriors and Wanderers, the boy’s tail swaying from side to side, and whenever he was thinking, it would form almost a question mark. He had wanted to train the boy himself, since he was so sweet and affectionate, but since he couldn’t, he was being beaten by his father daily.

‘To think, just because you are a Master, you think you are able to defeat me?’

‘I will tell Karot you are being cringe,’ Chosen had warned.

‘Is it not a father’s right to be cringe to his own children?’ Mosen had replied, as though he were a particular half elf.

‘Never mind. I shall ask uncle Tona instead.’

‘You!’ Mosen had flown into a rage and had taught his son properly after that threat.

Tanagek stared down at the die.

4

He stared down at the die his nephew had rolled.

11

“It seems it is time for my character to greet Baktu.”

Karot frowned. “Papo, you can do it, because you are tough.”

“Indeed, I am your papo, Tanagek, but this is Bill, who is a farmer, and it is a wraith.”

“Papo, your sword is magical.”

“It is?”

“Ock!” Karot covered his mouth, his tail swaying from side to side. “It was a secret, papo!”

“Oh. I see. My sword, the Heart of the Silver Son, is magical indeed.”

“I meant the sword Bill the farmer has.”

“Ah, I see.” Tanagek reached down and ruffled his nephew’s hair lightly.

‘Are you worried?’ his father had asked, the Iyrman whose limp was but a ghost, although he was not quite as swift as he used to be.

‘Yes…’ Tanagek had replied.

‘Why are you worried, when you are unable to teach him?’

‘I am unable to teach him this time, but next time, I shall teach him.’

‘Hmm…’ Tonagek had replied, almost approvingly, and as the two clashed steel once more, Tonagek showed Tanagek why he was the young man’s father.

Tanagek brushed Karot’s cheek gently. He wondered how life would have been if his father had been able to adopt the children as his own. His heart throbbed, recalling his younger brother, and he leaned in, scratching the back of Karot’s head gently, the boy who, in one life, may have been his brother, and yet, would not have met Tonogek. It was then his mind wandered, to a life in which Tonogek would have been alive, and even if the half elf had claimed the children as his own, as he did in this life, what-

“Oh! The wraith missed you, papo!” Karot declared with delight.

“Ah!” Tanagek replied, glad to see it had missed him.

“Is it my turn?” Chosen asked.

“It is, papo! You must slay it well.”

“That is a… fourteen?”

“It is too low.”

“No, no, fourteen and… five? Is that nineteen?”

Karot checked his sheet, squinting his eyes. “Oh! Fourteen is a hit!”

“Then nineteen is a hit too!” Chosen declared.

Karot blinked. “Yes!”

“Then, is my sword magical?”

“Of coas!”

“Of coas!” came the reply, and even Tanagek repeated the words, with a lighter urgency.

“One dice then,” Chosen said.

“Mm, it is magical, so you will roll… with Advantage.”

“So I roll two six sided dice and take the higher?” Chosen asked.

“Yes! You must add the bonus.”

“What is the bonus?”

“One.”

“Oh! A Basic Enhanced sword? How wonderful!” Chosen smiled. “Thankfully I rolled with Advantage, that is a one and four, so four, plus three, plus one, is eight?”

“Ock!” Karot gasped. “The wraith only has ten and now it has…”

The two waited for the boy to complete his math, who concentrated on his fingers. “Two!”

“Ah!” Chosen replied, nodding his head.

“The wraith, because it is scared now, it will run away.”

“It seems I must always save your papo Tana,” Chosen teased, ignoring Tanagek’s glare.

Karot side eyed Chosen, the boy smirking playfully, and Chosen laughed.

Indeed, he did not need to worry, for he was his sister’s brother.

“I can attack because it did not do so carefully.”

“Papo, you are going to slay a retreating enemy?” Karot pouted.

“It is a wraith.”

“It is not an evil wraith…”

“It is not?”

“No.”

“Then I will let it go…” Tanagek reached out to brush the boy’s hair gently.

“Are you bullying my brother?” Jirot asked, glaring at the two.

“No.”

Jirot looked to Karot, who smiled, and Jirot hugged him, before sauntering off. She turned, glaring at the two once more. “It is because you are my troublesome papos that I am worried.”

“Jurot is troublesome too.”

“Papo Jurot is strong though, so I do not need to worry.”

“We are strong too.”

Jirot sighed, running her fingers through her hair. The girl groaned. “Baktu, please, bless my papos with your wisdom, and your strength, because they are so unwise, and so weak...”

“…”

Jirot remained silent, and felt the shadows form over her, and as she peeked open her eyes, she noted the two, who stared down at her. “You must forgive me because I am so cute.”

“Even if you are cute, we cannot.”

“You must forgive me because I love my papos so much.”

“Hmm…” Chosen narrowed his eyes. “It is true, so we must surrender.”

“Thank you, papo Chosen, for you are the wiser of the two, and… the stron-,” Jirot began, closing her eyes as Tanagek picked her up. The girl continued to hold her eyes closed, as though it would make him disappear.

‘She really has the best humour,’ Tanagek thought.

V

‘I need to train hard,’ came the thought, as the fist flew through the air, the wind whipping. ‘I need to become stronger! Stronger! Stronger!’

“I see, so this is the snow of the Iyr…” mused an old man. He was short, bald, his eyes a deep blue. The old man was well muscled, and the attire of the Iyr did little to hide it, and at his side rested a gleaming greatsword of sparkling silver. “The storms during the eighth month was terrible, terrible indeed, but the snow here, though harsh, is so soft, and white, and so cold, too cold for these bones of mine, which were born in a land of warmth, and are now so old.”

“Greatjiddo, the snow of the Iyr is so sweet, and so soft, and you cannot sleep within it, for my kakas and papa, they like the snow, since they are silver scaled, and since we are not silver scaled, we cannot lay in the snow like them,” Jirot explained.

“Ah, of course.”

Jirot stared at the old man.

The old man stared at Jirot.

The pair fell into laughter.

“Greatjiddo, you are so funny!” Jirot continued to cackle, as little Jarot’s laughter accompanied them too, for he, too, had learnt the tongue of fire.

“Indeed, it is why I was considered the most handsome of all, even though I am short.”

“You are short, just like me, greatjiddo.”

“No, no, you are shorter than I, aren’t you?”

“Mm…” Jirot held her hand over her head, and brought it up diagonally above the old man’s head. “You see? I am taller than you.”

‘I can’t believe she is still making that same joke,’ Adam thought, approaching the trio, and though he was gaunt, he did his best to walk lightly. As the first snows had fallen onto the Iyr, it was the best day to walk, he presumed, especially since tomorrow was that day. “Jiddo, I hope my daughter isn’t bullying you too much.”

“How can I say such a thing? My ibnat al’hafid is so kind to me, today, yesterday, and tomorrow, and so is my ibn al’hafid, who is so handsome,” Afraz said in the tongue of the sun, and he reached down to little Jarot, who flushed lightly, the boy’s eyes staring deep into the old man’s eyes, who winked towards him playfully, causing the boy to lower his head, avoiding the old man’s gaze.

“We must be careful speaking the tongue of sun and gold within the Iyr, jiddo, otherwise the Iyrmen, they might think we are plotting against them.”

“So many, they speak the good tongue, but, shukhur, you are right, my hafid,” Afraz said, reaching up to the young man’s hair, ruffling it lightly. “I see you are still sick?”

“I am, I am, but I have dealt with this sickness a great many times, for I must be this sick after all the trouble I caused, as Lady Elaveil has such a wish for me.”

“Careful, my boy. Speak the name of Divine. You are so strong, it will be trouble.”

Adam smiled, and seeing as the old man had switched to the tongue of the Aldishman, he bowed his head. “The Divine and I have a special relationship, jiddo.”

“They say it. You are Chosen.”

“I’m Adam, my cousin, who is less handsome than I, is Chosen.”

Jirot and Jarot snickered at their father’s words, and as he smiled and winked towards them, they burst into greater laughter.

As the day passed, and it was the second day of the second week of nightval, it was finally time.

Who would dare to suggest Adam would forget?

The little red skinned girl wore her dress of red, and as she reached down to spoon the rice into her mouth, threatening to wear it, a shadow formed over her. The girl stopped scooping the rice, and seeing the familiar face, her eyes beamed, and her smile was as radiant as the sun, as Adam lifted her up, and hugged her tight, and though there were many complaints, he did not surrender the girl.

Dunes sighed, for he had been holding the little girl, and glancing aside to Ranya, who was also charging the half elf, the girl wearing a scarf which matched her younger sister, he closed his eyes.

‘What a good life…’

“Enisa!”

“Ahm!”

“Enisa!”

“Ahm!”

“Enisa!”

“Kya!” the girl cried, as Adam peppered kissed all over her face, and the two hugged one another tight, the girl planting a kiss on his cheek.

“You! You silly girl! I told you, didn’t I? You can’t grow up too fast!”

“Fass!”

“You!” Adam sniffled, nuzzling her nose, and as he placed her down onto her father’s lap, his children also began to swarm her.

“You do not need to listen to my daddy, for he is a silly boy, and he does not know, he does not know that you are so cute, my Enisa!” Jirot declared, hugging her cousin, who hugged her tightly in return, and as ruby eyes met amber eyes, the two embraced even more tightly.

“Enisa, you are so big…” Konarot said, and staring down at the girl, she recalled what her father said.

‘Though she may not remember exactly, she will remember your love, so make sure to be nice to your cousins. Treat them like you would treat Karot, with such sweetness and softness.’

As the children passed along their gifts, it was finally Adam’s turn, and he revealed a black scarf, that which was covered in beautiful golden suns.

Dunes blinked. ‘I thought he would…’

Dunes recalled the kind of gift Adam had granted Ranya upon her birth, a sword by the name of Thunder’s Triumph, which had then taken the head of the Grand Commander of High Garden, a Paragon. It was its first kill, in the hands of a particular fool of a half elf.

A scarf was…

“Next year, your father and I will go deal with the Reavers, so we’ll be sure to bring you back a few swords so you can pick which one you like, okay?” Adam said, and the girl squealed with delight, not at all understanding what the half elf was saying, but she clapped her hands excitedly.

However, since it was Adam, he still handed her a longsword made of firesteel.

It was he, after all.

The Crazy Father.

‘That makes more sense…’ Dunes thought.

As Jirot and Jarot spoiled Enisa, kissing her together, causing the girl to squeal, along with their elder sister, the triplets all gathered around the pair, blocking the rest from adoring the girl.

“Ahm, Enisa is our cousin too,” Konarot stated.

“Ah? Is that so?”

Konarot narrowed her eyes. “Yes!”

“Am I your favourite ahm because I have given you cousins?”

Konarot glanced aside to Korin, who looked to Dunes. Konarot smirked, but did not speak the words, even if they all knew what her smirk meant.

'She really is Jirot's sister.'

It was in front of the business that the child was spoiled, and they watched as Adam passed a longsword worth more than their monthly wages. The gifts he had handed to the children, even those of the strange Aswadian who had randomly joined them, and had defeated Lord Morkarai, were quite literally worth their weight in gold.

“I suppose it makes sense...”

“Aye, and he grants us great boons too, doesn't he?”

“That he does, that he does...”

“He hands over a longsword like that to a child?” Rowan asked.

“Aye,” Jeremy replied. “She’s the niece of the Sword of the Lady.”

Rowan spied the young woman to the side, who was apparently the Sword of the Lady, a title granted to what was essentially Lady Arya the Goddess of War’s Chosen. ‘I guess that makes sense.’

“Once your kids are grown, and they’re ready to step out into the world, I have no doubt he’ll hand over something like a Basic sword.”

“I mean, aye, but it’s firesteel.”

“No, no, a Basic sword, not a basic sword.”

“You mean a magical sword?”

“Aye.”

“Really?”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Rowan raised his brow, doubtful, but then again, considering all the tall tales they tell within the Iyr, he supposed, perhaps, if even half of them were true, then wouldn’t it be true?

VI

“You have to eat all the rice, it is good luck,” Dunes said.

“No!” Enisa replied.

“Here, I’ll feed you Enisa.” Adam lifted the girl up, holding the spoonful of rice to her lips, causing the girl to squirm, but as Adam entered her vision, she flushed, and accepted the spoonful of rice and goat, the girl chewing lightly.

Dunes smiled, glancing aside to Amira, who smirked at him, and his smirk dropped. ‘I suppose since Jirot will sometimes listen to me more to bully her father, I can forgive my own daughter for doing the same…’

“Shukhur, next year will be so fun,” Korin said. “It has been so long since we last stepped out, and with the intention of fighting so eagerly.”

“Is your sword rusty?”

“I hope the Lady forgives me, but it has been so long…” Korin let out a soft sigh, and Dunes side eyed him, but bowed his head, since he felt the same way. “We will have to speak with the Mustashalur.”

“We can speak with whoever is on the field, and we can assist them, unless the business will take responsibility for us?” Dunes pondered.

“The business will, probably,” Adam replied. “We’re a diverse group of people from all over, but ultimately, we suckle upon the bosom of the United Kindom.”

“When did you become so poetic?” Korin asked.

“Jirot keeps bullying me about sounding like an idiot.”

“Did she say it like that?”

“Mostly,” Adam admitted. “Daddy, you sound like such a fool. If you continue to do this, I will not forgive you. You are mummy’s husband. If you shame mummy, see what I do to you.”

“You sound almost like your daughter.”

“She is my daughter, after all.”

Korin chuckled, and Dunes flashed a gentle smile, and once Enisa was done eating her meal, she reached out for her mother, though relented as her father picked her up, only for her mother to pick her up a moment later, and the girl smiled shyly when she was with the red skinned woman.

“Even if you are so big, I shall remain your mother,” Amira said. “Perhaps this mother of yours will step out too?”

“No!” Enisa cackled.

“No?”

“No!”

“I see…” Amira smiled. “Perhaps I shall leave your father behind and step out myself?”

“No!”

“Okay, since you adore your mother the most.” Amira leaned in to kiss the girl, who kissed her in return, and the girl’s squealing filled the air.

‘Amira is so funny too…’ Adam thought, and his eyes darted to the side, finding the bald Aswadian approaching, who dropped down beside the half elf, though he reached out to pat Dunes’ knee.

“Two years old? Shukhur. So healthy. So big. So beautiful.”

“Thank you, jiddo.”

“Betta,” Afraz said, turning to look towards Korin, his lips twitching slightly. “You will have children soon?”

“Soon, jiddo, soon.”

“Ah…” Afraz slowly nodded his head. He turned to Adam, raising his brow, and the two shared a knowing smile. “You are to go next year?”

“Next year, we’ll see how many Reavers will remain.”

“I will go too,” Afraz said. “I will go with you, my grandson.”

“Jiddo, you can stay here, and enjoy your retirement.”

“I am so old. I should fight when I can. If I do not, I will sleep so soon.”

“Do I not pay you enough?”

“Shukhur, how I can say this? Two thousand? Thirty each month? You will give me a magical sword, yes?” Afraz winked.

“Of course, jiddo, of course.”

“Of coas!” came the echoes as the twins rushed over.

“Daddy, what are you saying to my greatjiddo? You are picking a fight? Greatjiddo, I will beat up my daddy if he is bullying you?”

“Your father, he says, will gift me a magical sword. How good?”

“How good, daddy?”

“I may be your fool of a father, but am I not your father? Of course it’s a Greater Enhanced greatsword!”

“Shukhur, you see, greatjiddo? My daddy, he is so handsome, he is so wise. My daddy…” Jirot paused a moment. She leaned in to whisper in the tongue of fire. “My daddy is so strong.”

“Ah?”

“What did she say?” Adam asked, as though he hadn’t heard her.

“My betti, she said, my daddy, my daddy is so smelly.”

Jirot gasped, her mouth wide open, as Adam stared down at her, and he picked her up, throwing her.

“What! Smelly? This father of yours who buys more soap than steel?”

“I did not say it!” Jirot declared, feeling the complicated emotions swirl within her heart.

“Ah? Betti, what did you say?”

Jirot flushed slightly, trapped within her father’s arms, who assaulted her face with his kisses. “I said…”

“What did you say, you punk?”

“I said daddy is incorrigible!”

“What? You punk? Incorrigible?” Adam growled and tossed her up once more, catching her with ease, and as he placed her down, the girl stumbled to Afraz, who quickly picked her up, wrapping an arm around her, helping little Jarot up, protecting them both.

“Do you see this, Dunes? Daughters! They’re the most vicious! At least she didn’t say I was smelly, especially with how much I bathe! Isn’t it this father who summons so many towers in order to bathe? Don’t you know? That’s how I seduce your mo-,” Adam said, only to stop, flushing hard. He was so glad he was speaking in the Aswadic tongue, and he sat, clearing his throat.

“I do not like this side of your father, who has become so funny,” Dunes joked, glancing aside to little Jirot, who nodded approvingly of such words, for certainly, hadn’t her father become too funny?

“Incorrigible!”

“Ah!” the Aswadians replied. “Incorrigible!”

“You!” Adam fumed, clenching his fist. “You’ll see! You’ll see what happens tomorrow, you punks!”

“You dare!” Jirot declared, pointing to her father, who stood, and quickly stormed off, picking up Ranya, stealing her from the triplets.

“You need to go bully your sister right now!” Adam declared.

“No,” Konarot replied simply.

“You!” Adam gasped. “It’s daughters who are most vicious! Isn’t that right, Ranya?”

“No!”

“Et tu, Ranya?”

“Ettoo!”

VII

“No!” cried the girl.

“Virot, be nice…” Jirot said, holding onto her younger sister, half in a hug.

“No…”

“Virot…”

“Okay.” The tears on the girl’s face all but disappeared, and Virot stared up towards her father. She had picked the best day to bully her father, since technically she was allowed to bully him this day, for today was this day.

Adam pouted slightly, but he lifted the girl up, feeling her weight within her hands. “You are so big now, Virot…”

“Virot is a big girl…” Virot confirmed.

“You are so big, almost bigger than your kaka…”

Virot flushed lightly, and smirked, accepting her father’s tight hug, the half elf swaying from side to side.

That morning they gathered the children and made their way away, as a young Iyrman, with their charcoal, began to sketch out the two families, with Virot upon her mother’s lap, and Damrot upon his mother’s lap, and it was they, almost the entire Rot family, who gathered to be sketched that day.

Upon their return, Jurot understood, and surrendered his son to the half elf, who picked him up and showered the boy’s face with kisses.

“You! Damrot! You! I told you, didn’t I?”

Damrot flushed slightly. “Papo…”

“You! You think you’re so big now that you can call me papo instead of daddy?”

“Daddy is daddy,” Damrot said, pointing to his father. He side eyed Adam, smirking slightly. “Papo is papo…”

“You!” Adam continued to pepper the boy in kisses, and placed him down, his heart broken, but he awaited until the others had swarmed the pair in affection first.

“You are almost as big as me!” Lanarot declared, hugging little Virot, who smiled wide.

“You are so big now, my nephew!” Gurot declared, the boy, who was roughly the same age as Jirot and Jarot, was also so much taller, and wider, then them all. He hugged Damrot tight, and planted a firm kiss on his cheek, then marched over to Virot to do the same, the girl squealing. “You are growing up so well!”

‘When did you grow up so big, Gurot?’ Adam thought, and though he recalled their birthdays barely a month ago, his heart ached. He looked to Lanarot, and closed his eyes, unable to accept it.

Nirot peeked down towards the two, who were born on the same day, each who were her nephews from the right of her grandfather. Virot held her sister’s sharpness, and Damrot, his cousin’s softness, though he called his cousin papa.

As the gifts were passed to the children, with Adam, somehow, showing mercy, by only handing over scarves, Vonda held her daughter upon her lap. She stared down at the girl, who was so mischievous, which was something she should have expected, for the girl’s birth had been so troubled. It was at that time, when Lord Morkarai had taken them to the Undersea Kingdoms, to meet his betrothed, and, somehow, someone connected to her husband, that she had been quite wounded, having not realised she was pregnant for the first time. Thankfully, the Mother blessed her with a great fortitude, and her darling husband, too, had assisted as he could, along with the Iyrmen.

‘Virot…’ Vonda thought, and she wiped the girl’s lips lightly with a damp towel, for she had decided to wear the milk upon her lips rather than to drink it. As the girl peeked up at her mother, Vonda kissed her nose, causing the girl to blink, and she cackled.

“Mummy!”

“Are you going to cause trouble today?” Vonda accused, pushing the girl’s cheeks inward.

Virot smiled innocently. Indeed, her smile was full of guilt.

Damrot remained upon his mother’s lap too, completely oblivious to his mother’s feelings, who stared down at the top of his head. She was glad, in many ways, the boy hadn’t taken after his father much. Though he was quiet, it was mostly because he was shy, rather than the unnerving quiet of some Iyrmen. He was also soft, meek, to the point she had no idea how he would ever learn to dance like his father. Then the thought came to her.

Was Jurot also like this?

Jurot’s arms were full of two girls, one who was snoozing against his bicep, almost drooling against it, and the other was nestling her head deep against his chest, sucking her thumb as she played with her father’s buttons. Jurot stared at Damrot, who was now four years old. His oldest son had now reached the age in which he would probably form his first memory. He thought back to his first memory, and the sight of his grandfather, so powerful, so monstrous, and his eyes slowly trailed to the side, towards the two armed, two legged Iyrman.

The only reason, perhaps, the boy would not know how monstrous his greatfather was would be because of a particular green skinned girl, with amber eyes, who held a blade like finger towards the man.

“I know you are patiently waiting, but you must keep waiting, because we, the children, must greet them first, and once we have spoiled them, then you can spoil them, okay?”

“You are only saying that because you get to spoil them first…”

“It just so happens it helps us…” Jirot turned her head to the side, half avoiding his gaze, and as the Iyrman stood, the girl took a wide stance, and she held out her ring threateningly. “Babo! You dare!”

“I am only going to the toilet…”

“I will come too, to wash your bottom!” Jirot declared.

The old Jarot closed his eyes, slipping into a meditation to stop himself from laughing. “You cannot come, but I will borrow your ring, okay?”

“Babo, you cannot borrow my ring, for you are a Rage Dancer, and you do not use magic.”

“It is a ring, so I can use the magic.”

“Oho? I see. If my babo wishes to use magic, he can use magic. My babo, who is so skilled with an axe and shield. I suppose, since my babo does not like the axe and shield he…” Jirot closed her eyes, falling silent as her greatfather’s shadow loomed over her.

“Just whose greatdaughter are you, that you speak such words so freely, without fear?”

“I am… your greatdaughter, you silly man!” Jirot declared, pointing at him threateningly.

“Aha!”

“Ha!”

Jurot closed his eyes, recalling his first memories. It was raining, then. The flashes of fury upon his grandfather’s face had seared itself upon the boy’s heart. Then, the face of a man, defeated, with one arm, who he only realised was the same man a few years later. He supposed his son would not know either of these men, for he would know a Mad Dog whose fangs had returned, who defeated the Full Moon, and would go on to slaughter a great many Reavers the next year.

“Nana…” Virot called out as the woman picked her up, wishing to claim her granddaughter, and she did so for Damrot, taking them both.

The old Jarot blinked. He turned to face Jirot.

Jirot blinked. She turned to face the older Jarot.

“Jirot…”

“Babo, what can I do?”

“Jarot…” the older Jarot called.

Little Jarot flushed. “Nana is impossible to defeat.”

“Yet, you can defeat me?”

“You are so weak, babo,” little Jarot replied, and he tilted his head as his greatfather turned red hot in his rage.

‘My greatson is so funny!’ Jarot thought, doing his best not to laugh.

Jurot felt a girl stir, and as Pamarot looked up, she saw her father. “Pamarot.”

“Mama,” the girl replied.

Jurot blinked. He turned to look towards Pam, who tilted her head, having heard a familiar voice, and as she looked down, she saw Pamarot looking to her.

“Mama…” Pamarot smiled.

“Even if she said mama first, she was speaking of I, her father.”

“You are such a sore loser,” Pam accused.

Jurot closed his eyes, his ears turning red.

VIII

It was during the afternoon, as the two children were smothered in the affection of the elderly Iyrmen, Adam decided to do that.

As he closed the book, he realised he shouldn’t have done that.

‘Oh no,’ he thought. Adam stood, and being that he was mostly well rested, he decided to take a walk through the Iyr. The Iyr was so cold, blanketed in a beautiful white, and as he trekked through the Front Iyr, he approached a particular wall, staring at it. ‘I’m poor.’

Adam continued to stare at the wall.

‘How did this happen?’ Adam asked himself, as though he hadn’t checked his journal to see that he had spent roughly thirteen thousand coin on Urkina, plus five thousand on clothes at the Crimson Cloth, at least another thousand on uthur, plus thousands upon weapons.

‘I only have a touch under twenty five thousand gold,’ Adam thought, having yet to take his wages for the year, which would bring him closer to twenty five thousand. ‘I mean, I can always use the business’ funds to replenish it, but it is embezzlement, or whatever it’s called. If I catch myself doing it, I’ll have to tie some rope around my ankles, or, what was it, the cinder blocks around my feet? Thankfully, the two sent a hundred thousand each, but roughly have of that is going to deal with the business’ expenses, as well as the money required for all the enchanting. I’m already spending hundreds, thousands, on enchanting everything for everyone too. I’ll probably have to dip into my own funds soon. I, maybe, shouldn’t have bought the Reaping Rukh for…’

Adam then brought out his journal. He checked the section in which he had bought the Reaping Rukh. He had bought it for Otkan, except…

‘Oh no.’

Adam closed his journal once more.

The half elf made his way back to the complex.

Adam sat in the corner.

“Daddy, what is wrong?” Karot asked, reaching out a hand, brushing his father’s hand gently.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m just feeling a little sick,” Adam replied, smiling, for his son was far too adorable. He leaned in quickly, and the boy flushed, and they exchanged kisses on their cheeks, and he did so for his daughters too.

“What is wrong?” Jurot eventually asked as she sat with Adam to one side.

“I committed embezzlement.”

Jurot remained silent.

“Do you remember how much the Reaping Rukh cost?”

“Twenty thousand.”

“How did you get that so quick?”

“I spent thirty thousand on my wife,” Jurot replied, holding Adam’s gaze. The half elf’s lips formed a tiny circle of surprise.

‘This fucking guy!’ Adam blinked. “Anyway! I spent, I mean, I swear I, anyway, I, anyway…”

Jurot’s lips twitched slightly.

‘This fucking guy…’ Adam cleared his throat. “I spent roughly twenty thousand on the Reaping Rukh, but I accidentally wrote it into the business’ section, and, well…”

“It will be fine,” Jurot assured. “The wealth of the business is not separate to your own.”

“It’s meant to be…”

“To think you would commit the curse of maths during your daughter’s birthday.”

Adam blinked. ‘I’m going to beat this guy up!’

“Daddy, what is wrong?” Jirot asked, rushing up, for of course it was her senses which were so attuned to trouble.

“I’m going to beat your papo up!”

“Daddy! Papo Laygak is too strong!”

“I-,” Adam paused. “I meant your papo Jurot, but I can definitely beat up your papo Laygak.”

“Daddy, my papo is known as the Blood Seeking Sword, and one day they will say he had beaten up the Sword of the Setting Sun, but daddy, you are Purple Adam, and you claimed third place in a tournament.”

Adam’s mouth dropped.

“Do you know why I can?” Jirot asked.

“It is your sister’s birthday.”

“If you know, you know,” Jirot replied.

‘My daughter is so vicious!’ Adam thought, and he closed his eyes, allowing her words to fall upon him. ‘Too vicious…’

Jirot reached over, and she gently slapped her uncle’s palm, palm to palm, then the back of her hand against the back of her hand, and then they rubbed forearms lightly, and the girl winked, allowing her brother to completely the handshake with her uncle too.

Adam inhaled deeply. “Dear. We are poor.”

Jirot’s head snapped towards her father. “What?”

“We are poor.”

“Daddy! You are joking?”

“No. Your father, he has, well, I mean, once I pay off my debts, I will have less than five thousand gold.”

The girl gasped, reaching over to clutch her uncle’s sleeve tightly. Five thousand gold? Five thousand gold? Only five thousand gold?

Even though her father made six hundred and fifty gold, as that was what thirteen times fifty was, he was still someone who had made quite a few bets on himself, his brother, and the girl’s kakos, to the point he had made roughly fifty thousand from during the Nightval Tournament in Northern Aldland, when he came face to face against the Princess, and had allowed her to draw against him, even though he was so strong, this weak father of hers.

“Oh no! Daddy!” Jirot gasped, leaping towards her father, grabbing his hand. “It’s okay, daddy! I have ten thousand gold, and I will give it to you, okay? I will tell mummy.”

Adam pouted slightly. “It’s okay, my dear, it’s just that, daddy will need to sell off a lot of stuff next year, so, if you can forgive him a little bit during this nightval and next dawnval…”

“Daddy! You! You are so incorrigible! On my sister’s birthday! On my brother’s birthday! On my siblings’ birthdays! On their fourth birthdays! I could forgive you if it was their fifth birthdays, but they are still four years old, daddy! I will never forget this!” Jirot declared, but as her father picked her up, he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, and he did so to little Jarot too, who pouted slightly, but he side eyed his uncle, for wasn’t five thousand gold still a lot of money? “I suppose, since you are so kind to me father, I can forgive you.”

“Just a little bit?”

“If you know, you know.”

IX

‘It seem like I should probably be less stingy in who we accept work from, but at the same time, I haven’t been rinsing the nobles properly…’ Adam thought, all the while his triplets pinned him down, for Jirot and Jarot were cuddled up with Virot and Damrot, who were sleeping alongside their mothers, who had decided to sleep on either end of them.

Jurot was pinned down by a particular girl, not either of his daughters, but since it was her, it made sense as to why he was pinned down.

Sonarot took Monarot, while Lanarot slept in her own room beside hers, while Pamarot, since she was yet to turn one, was taken to another place, watched over by an elder, who meditated until the girl needed something, or sometimes, her own greatmother, who would sleep near her, and awaken to assist.

This was the Iyr.

Adam stared at the ceiling within this Iyr.

‘Why am I being so nice to all these nobles? I’m not even charging them properly for magical weapons! I should be rinsing them for all they’re worth! Even if the Amira is a friend of mine, isn’t she still an Amira?’

The next morning Adam was completely relaxed, for, as one might expect, seeing the quarter of a million or so gold the Faro and the Amira had paid the business had eased his heart. Even so, he realised he needed more, and the matter of the auction needed to take a higher priority, especially since once he stepped onto the battlefield, he would rid the world of the Reaver menace, meaning the prices of magical weapons would stabilize once more.

‘I pity my wife for marrying a fool like me…’ Adam thought, closing his eyes, until a slap awakened him. He stared down at the girl in utter shock.

Health: 140 -> 139

“Papo!” Monarot exclaimed. “No seep!”

Adam opened his mouth, holding up a finger. He half coughed as he tried not to laugh. “No hitting, Monarot.”

“No seep!” Monarot exclaimed once more.

“Monarot, no slapping!” Adam stated once more.

“Yeh!” Monarot sauntered off to her father.

Adam rubbed his cheek. “What the hell, man. She hits like a damn truck! Sorry, wagon.”

“Yes,” Jurot replied, the shadow of a smile upon his lips. “She is my daughter.”

“This guy, I swear, you’ve been picking a fight with me for the last few days now…”

“Do you wish to fight?” Jurot asked.

“I’m telling Jirot you’re bullying me…”

As Jirot sauntered over to her papo, she stared up at him. “Papo, you must be nice to my daddy, because he is sick, and worse, poor.”

Jurot closed his eyes.

Adam closed his eyes. ‘I know she’s just joking, but maybe I shouldn’t be letting her make those kinds of jokes…’

“Sorry,” Jurot said.

“It’s okay. Daddy, papo, you must hug and kiss to make up.”

Adam wrapped his arms around Jurot, kissing his cheek, offering his own cheek in return, while Jurot furrowed his brows in bewilderment. Adam pulled back, opening his arms, pointing towards his brother. “Do you see? Do you see how he treats me? My own brother! My own flesh and blood! Jirot, you’ve shown him too much mercy.”

Jirot’s jaw had dropped, and she reached up to roll her sleeves, as Jurot reached over to hug Adam, and as his brother offered his cheek, Jurot kissed his brother.

“You need to drink more water, your lips are so rough,” Adam said.

“It is because I do not have fae blood.”

“Hey, hey, hey, you can’t say that! Jirot, he can’t say that!”

“I can say it, I am your brother.”

“Hey!” Adam replied.

“You say things about Iyrmen.”

“Yeah, but that’s because it’s true.”

“Yes,” Jurot agreed.

‘Daddy and papo are so funny…’ Jirot thought. “You have hugged and kissed and made up. I do not want to hear any more of this bakwas, okay? Any more funny business, and we will see if you are still laughing. Jarot, hug and kiss daddy and papo, and then we will go, okay?”

“Okay,” little Jarot said, hugging and kissing his father and uncle, and as they left, he mimicked Jirot, who was motioning from her eyes to theirs.

“I don’t know how I did it, but she’s so funny.”

“I do not know either,” Jurot admitted.

“Monarot is hilarious too.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe she slapped me.”

“I will speak with her.”

“I already did it. She’s probably already forgotten she’s done it.”

Jurot wondered if that was true, but considering how he didn’t remember anything from when he was two, it probably was. “It was a good slap.”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. “My daughter knows how to slap so well.”

“I will tell Jurot you are bullying me.”

Adam continued to take it easy, playing with the children, and though he was fairly well rested, he decided against stressing too deeply about working, even if he felt a little guilty that his wife was always working, but since he was remaining behind with the children to watch over them, she did not think twice about it, allowing him to form a greater relationship with Virot.

“Virot, you are learning how to use the bathroom so well!” Adam declared.

“Good job,” Jirot said, and as she used her ring to clean the area, she paused. “I need to learn to use the toilet again, otherwise Virot will know and I will not.”

“You know how to use the toilet you’re just… sick.” Adam swallowed.

“Mm…” Jirot flushed lightly.

‘I should have killed the Grand Malawi.’ Adam thought about his slightly swollen cheek. ‘I should have slapped him.’

It wasn’t long before that day arrived, before two weeks had passed into nightval, when the girl squealed and cried in utter delight.

“Hmm…” Adam mused, staring down at the girl.

“Gosh.” Jirot mused. “Daddy, why does she look so familiar?”

“She looks so cute, and so tough, so who could she be?”

“She is so big now.”

“Yes, she is so big, isn’t she?”

“Daddy, maybe… she is… Monarot?”

“Ah! She must be Monarot, since she is so cute, and so big now!”

“Yes! It must be Monarot!”

Konarot blinked, turning her head towards her mother. “Oh no. Daddy corrupted Jirot.”

Vonda’s lips formed a wide grin. “Oh dear. We must take care of them, since they are so sick?”

“Yes…” Konarot sighed, pouting up towards her father and sister, who were not as smart or as wise as her mother.

“It is Pamarot,” Damrot said, tilting his head towards his kaka and papo.

“Ah!” Jirot gasped. “Oh my gosh! You are right!”

“Ah! Of course!”

“Of coas!” came the chorus of the children.

“Pamarot…” Adam sniffled slightly. “Look! Your mother and…”

Adam paused.

‘No, that’s weird.’

“Your kako and your papo brought you a gift!” Adam declared, revealing the shield, that which he had forged, and his wife had…

As the girl reached for it, she pulled her hand away in surprise.

“What? It’s not good enough for you? It’s a Greater enchantment though…” Adam pouted.

Pamarot reached down to the shield again, raising her brow, feeling the tingle. She turned her head, looking towards her mother in confusion, but she smiled, slapping the shield excitedly, since the tingle of magic felt so good.

‘I thought, since he was behaving…’ Jurot thought, having made the mistake to underestimate his fool of a brother.

Jirot blinked. She turned to her father. ‘What the…’

“Since your mother enchanted it and I forged it…” Adam smirked.

Jirot realised she had been outplayed.

X

Although it was technically Adam’s break, he awoke that morning especially early, and trained, lightly that morning, or rather, he pushed himself lightly, regaining his strength from spending so much time wasting away after the magical sickness from Awakening Iyrmen.

Mulrot watched over him, taking her own walk in the morning, pacing behind him, stretching, and even lifting weights lightly, until he was finally done with his morning routine. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, mostly from the light jogging before and after his weight lifting and his practise.

As Adam bathed, he peeked towards his children, who were enjoying their bath after a particularly harsh training that morning, for they had to walk so much, and after their greatfather teased them, they completed a few more laps, although Jirot had fallen first, for though she had unlimited energy for causing trouble, it was little Jarot who possessed such unlimited energy for running.

“Perhaps I have made a mistake this morning…” Jirot groaned lightly.

Adam reached out, and as he brushed along her forehead, he let out the warmth of his healing touch.

Lay on Hands: 50 -> 49

Jirot shuddered lightly, and rested her head against her father’s hand, who also reached out to heal the rest of their children, and as they regained their strength, they swam over to their father, and hugged him tight, exchanging kisses with him.

“Thank you, daddy,” the children all said, one by one, and together.

“Of course, my dears.”

“Of coarse!” the children replied.

Adam’s smile threatened to blind them, and as they finally stepped out to the smell of breakfast, Adam let out a soft sigh, his eyes falling across the children. ‘I should play with them one by one too…’

That morning, toast, eggs, roasted vegetables, baked potatoes, porridge, thinly slices meat, and a mountain of fruit awaited them, although the mountain was soon dwarfed by a mountain of blue.

“Mama…” Amalrot called, pointing to the mountain of fruit.

“I will feed you,” Sonarot promised, and the girl smiled, accepting her mother’s fingers as the woman fed her.

‘I should probably do something with Amalrot too…’ As he thought about what he could do with her, the only thing he thought of was how she was so chonky, and her build was good to learn the way of the Rot family. ‘I can’t believe I let Jurot corrupt me like this.’

Lanarot ate the toast, one by itself, with a gentle slathering of butter, which caused her to hum with delight, before she ate the sandwich her eldest brother made for her, in between bites of the fruit her other eldest brother had gathered for her.

“Cousin Adam, are we going to play Warriors and Wanderers?” Gurot asked.

“That depends, are you going to try and eat the dice?” Adam accused.

“Cousin Adam, dice are not for eating.”

“I know, but when you were a small boy, you tried to eat the dice.”

“Cousin Adam, just because I am chonky, it does not mean I eat everything.” Gurot narrowed his eyes, and as he looked to his sister for support, he saw the way she furrowed her brows, and glanced aside. The boy blinked. ‘Huh?’

“Since you are so wise now, I will run a game for you, but this cousin of yours, he wants to go for a walk first to think about his ideas.”

“Okay, cousin Adam…” Gurot closed his eyes, not accepting the fact he had tried to eat dice when he was younger.

Adam leaned down to kiss his son’s ear gently. “Jarot, I’m going to give you this slice of salya. It’s all for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Jarot replied, accepting the spoonful of mashed salya, the boy smiling up towards his father, who winked.

Once breakfast was done, Adam stepped out to allow the darkness in his heart to dissipate, and as the bright snow greeted him, he stared towards it.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?” Vonda asked, stepping out with her husband, little Xarot resting her head on her shoulder, sucking his thumb, half asleep.

“Next year, when we step out to deal with the Reavers, will you stay in the Iyr?”

“Are you asking it, or do you wish for me to remain?”

Adam remained quiet for a long moment, and as he stared at the back of his son’s head, he sighed. “I'd like you to remain.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Adam swallowed the word. “It'll be extremely dangerous, and I think, considering the children's hearts, it may be best if you remain.”

Vonda tilted her head, her eyes scanning her husband, narrowing them slightly. “I may remain behind.”

Adam side eyed his wife, his brow raised. “What will I owe you?”

“I hope you will treat the Rays and Hopes well, and... I hope you will also gift them a few magical items.”

“The Iyr did say we can’t do business with Aldland, but if it’s the Order of Life’s Rose, and if it’s a bunch of gifts…” Adam leaned in to kiss her neck, her cheek, and finally stole a kiss from her lips, pulling back with a small smile on his lips.

Vonda, too, smiled, and as the two walked around the ring of the Front Iyr, there were others with deep thoughts within their minds.

Jurot, holding Damrot and Virot within each arm, for they had tried to jump into the snow, but they hadn’t checked to see if there were stones within. The two squirmed, and although Virot began to cry and wail, and speak such terrible words to her papo, saying things like she did not like him, or that she was going to beat him up, Jurot’s eyes trailed to the side, towards his wife.

‘When will our child be born?’

Although Adam returned to the complex to begin the game of Warriors and Wanderers, and many took that day to relax, there was a lean figure whose staff blurred through the sky. As her opponent used his palms and forearms to deflect the magical quarterstaff, Kitool panted lightly, even within the snow.

‘Paragons are such terrifying figures,’ Kitool thought, for her opponent was not a Paragon, a man who was a step below, and his kind smile did little to disarm her of his great might.

“Are you frustrated?” Malfev asked.

“No.” Kitool clasped the staff tightly, and the two faced one another again, her staff blurring once more. Yet, Malfev danced around her, and when he attacked her his fingers threatening to tap her skin, she, too, pulled back and remained roughly a fingerwidth ahead of his fingers, even when he threw a fist, a palm, or a chop.

‘It was said that if she had wielded her staff she would have defeated even Jurot,’ Malfev thought. ‘At this time, perhaps she may be a step behind, but as she takes the next step, she will perhaps be a step head of even Jurot once more.’

Kitool lay in the snow, panting for air, staring at the sky, the cool wind caressing her flushed face. She was paler, her cheeks and nose rosier, and as the snow began to fall, she slowly began to stand.

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated her so much…’ Malfev thought, his bruised arms throbbing wildly after facing her. ‘I should have remembered my grandnephew had forged her such a terrifying staff…’