[1791-1800] - Y07.281-290 – The Time We Spent (Patreon)

01

A blanket of white took the Iyr, the fresh snow gentle, soft. The children, each adorned in bright blue, with their family’s patterns embroidered onto their collars and sleeves, stood before their elders.

“Daddy, you do not have to be jealous,” Jirot began, holding up a hand towards her father, “because even though I am so beautiful, you are handsome too.”

“I see…” Adam smiled, gentle, warm, and his arms wrapped around his daughter, who had not troubled him even once.

Indeed, for today was the beginning of the nightval festival, in which the cold would be forced away by warm drinks, warm food, and warm hugs. Adam lifted his triplets up, Konarot in one arm, Kirot in the other, Karot on his back, arms around his neck.

Vonda held Virot within an arm, and Xarot in the other, though as Jirot stared up into her eyes, she placed little Virot down, and Jirot claimed one hand, and Little Jarot claimed another, and the woman entrusted her youngest daughter to her dependable Jirot and Jarot.

“Mama,” Xarot called, one hand clutching his mother’s collar, the other pointing out towards his greatfather, who was currently holding Gurot and Murot within each arm, and the old man’s eyes snapped to the side upon hearing his greatson’s voice. The boy smiled as their eyes met, and he waved, cackling loudly, as the old Iyrman grinned in return.

The festival welcomed all, as the Iyr’s festivals tended to do. Jurot held Monarot, the girl resting her head upon his shoulder, only shifting upon seeing familiar faces in the distance, while little Pamarot, stared up towards her greatmother, who smiled, the girl smiling shyly in return. Pam waddled her way to only the nearby estates, too exhausted, her swollen body unable to keep up with her husband, but the Iyrman, with his keen senses, kept an awareness of his wife, and did not move too far, remaining nearby, though it was her father who watched over her, making sure she did not fall within the snow.

Damrot marched alongside his father for a moment, but disappeared towards a particular pair of twins, and their younger sister, who he also called kaka.

As the various parents of the Front Iyr gathered near the centre, the children each played within the fresh snow, a particular set of triplets laying deep within the snow, out of sight, for the other children would not be allowed to behave in such a way, while another particular set of triplets sat in front of their father, while a particular set of twins loomed over them, the girl embracing each tightly, followed by her younger brother, her younger sister, and her cousin who she called her younger brother. As she marched off, she stopped, suddenly turning, meeting John’s gaze with her own amber eyes, and her amber eyes held a promise.

As a shadow engulfed her, the girl turned, holding up her fists, and she narrowly, by almost a mile, dodged the open palm strike, that would have missed her, and she threw out her own fist, meeting the palm of her kako, and her second punch met her kako’s other palm, and as the girl spun, she kicked behind her, managing to claim the woman’s forearm, for her arm held onto Jirot’s back to assist her balance.

“If you think I will show you mercy…” Jirot warned.

“I will slide you across the river,” Nirot warned.

“Mother’s Mercy, this junior has committed a grave sin,” Jirot said, clasping a palm over her fist, bowing her head, before turning suddenly, sprinting with such a swiftness, one might have thought she was an Ool, a three year old Ool, but she was not, she was a seven year old Rot, one that was as tall as a five year old.

Little Jarot blinked. Virot turned to look up towards her kako. Damrot smiled towards the woman. The trio quickly followed their troublesome leader, leaving Nirot behind in the snow, for she moved so slowly, it was as though she was not chasing them at all.

“Hello,” Nirot said, reaching out a hand towards the triplets, the little half elves reaching out for her hand, gently clasping it within their hands. “Are you enjoying the festival?”

“No?” Garaeth replied, side eyeing the woman.

‘It seems it is Jirot who has claimed you first…’ Nirot thought, a gentle smile causing the boy to flush lightly.

“Hya!” exclaimed a little girl, leaping onto the scene, and the scene was before her ahm, who held a boy within his arms. The girl blinked. Her red eyes peeked up at the boy. “Xawoh!”

Little Xarot turned his head, half asleep within his father’s arms, but he stopped sucking on his dummy and smiled, reaching up to take it out of his mouth, and he fought against his father, and after a battle that lasted two and a half seconds, the boy surrendered. “Kaza.”

“Xarot eated?” Ranya asked.

“Yeah!” Xarot smiled.

“Good!” Ranya said, and she turned, having completed her task, though her original task had been to bully her ahm, but since she was slightly older, she needed to watch over her younger cousin, little Xarot, who was so sweet, and so meek, and so troublesome, for he was his siblings’ sibling.

A moment later, a smaller red skinned girl barrelled through the snow, tripping and sliding forward. The girl scrambled onto her feet and stared up at her ahm, her white face covered in fresh snow. “Hello!”

“Hello, Enisa.”

“Enisa,” Enisa said, pointing to herself.

“Yes,” Adam confirmed.

“Yes,” Enisa confirmed, and before she could continue, a shadow formed over her. She turned, seeing the face of her father, and the girl blinked. She bolted off, following her elder sister, who had gone to find her elder cousins, the twins who were beginning to form a small army of children.

“Are you enjoying the festival?” Adam asked.

“Aryashukhur, although, it is quite cold…” Dunes admitted, taking a seat beside the half elf.

“I suppose Mork and Tork are probably enjoying themselves.”

“They’re sharing drinks with the Iyrmen,” Dunes said, reaching out to tickle little Xarot’s nose, who turned his head away. “Xarot.”

The boy turned, looking up to his ahm, only to find the finger at his nose once more, and he hid his head away once more.

“Xaaroot,” Dunes called once more.

The boy turned, looking up to his ahm, only to find the finger at his nose once more, and he hid his head away once more.

“Xaaarooot.”

The boy remained within his father’s chest. Then, quickly, he turned his head, and seeing the finger, he turned his head, cackling lightly.

“I hope my son is as cute as you.”

Adam suddenly sat up, his brows raised, eyes suddenly overwhelming the Brother of Black Mountain.

“No,” Dunes replied, smiling innocently.

Adam puled back, grumbling lightly, pulling his son closer to his chest. “Your ahm is so mean to your daddy.”

“You deserve it.”

“Xarot, beat him up.”

With a sudden fierceness, the boy sat up, holding up his fists, and he began to throw out his fists, which did not reach his ahm, but the fellow cried and groaned as though the boy was able to strike him.

“Sorry! Sorry, betta, sorry!”

“Xarot, finish,” Adam said, and the boy held up his fists once more, but this time crossed his arms, only to find his ahm claiming his nose.

Xarot blinked.

His ahm was so powerful!

“I have your nose now,” Dunes said, his gloved thumb between his gloved fingers.

Xarot turned to his father, shock within his eyes, and his face contorted, the boy making to cry.

Adam raised a hand, and pat Dunes’ shoulder. “I have caught him, so you can beat up ahm now.”

Xarot, with a greater fierceness, sat upright once more and began to wail onto his ahm’s arms, the man letting out exaggerated cries.

“Xarot! Xarot! Forgive me! Here! Your nose is back!” Dunes whimpered, poking his nephew’s nose.

Xarot reached up, feeling his nose, and glared up towards the man, half sniffling. “Kaka!”

Dunes sat up with a sudden fierceness, eyes darting to Adam.

“Who told you to bully my son?” Adam replied, holding his son tightly within his arms, as a particular shadow, leading an army of children, swarmed them.

“Daddy, what did you do?” Jirot glared, readying her hands to cast her spell.

“This time it was ahm Dunes who bullied Xarot!”

Jirot gasped. “You bullied my baby brother on this day, the day of the first day of the nightval festival, when my baby brother must be eating and drinking and cuddling?”

Dunes stared down at the girl. “I have made a grave mistake.”

Jirot pointed towards her ahm. She inhaled deeply. Then, with a sigh, she stopped pointing. “Ahm, I will forgive you, just this once.”

“Thank you, my little Jirot.”

“What?” Adam gasped. “He stole your brother’s nose and you’re going to show him mercy?”

“Daddy, ahm does not cause much trouble, so because it is his first time, I will let him go. Ahm, I will write you a ticket, okay?”

“Thank you for your mercy, my little magnanimous Jirot,” Dunes said, reaching out to brush her cheek.

“Of co-,” Jirot began, though her ahm stopped her by pinching her nose.

“Now I have your nose,” Dunes said.

Jirot blinked.

A blanket of white took the Iyr, the fresh snow gentle, soft.

It was a perfect day for Fireball.

02

It was a beautiful thing, a child's smile, so full of innocence, even when she gleamed with guilt.

"What did I tell you about eating snow?" Adam asked.

"Snoh!" Enisa said, pointing to the fluffy white that was so cold.

"Did Jirot eat dirt in front of you and now you eat snow?"

"Whah!" Jirot gasped, pulling back slightly, arms on either side of her, as though ready to size up against a bear. "Daddy! I did not do anything! You are blaming me? I did not do anything, nothing, not at all, daddy, not at all!"

"Kaza Ji!" Enisa accused.

"Enisa! I did not, you silly girl, I did not!"

Enisa squealed and cackled, and though she had betrayed her cousin, as she rushed up to the amber eyed girl, the green arms wrapped around her, accepting her sweet cousin, forgiving the tiny red girl immediately.

"Enisa..."

"Jee! Woh!" Enisa continued to cackle, squealing with utter delight, jumping up and down within her cousin's arms. It was within these arms, the girl felt so safe, and warm, for she did not know the dangers of the world, too young, too sweet, too innocent.

"You think because you are so cute, I will forgive you?" Jirot asked.

"Yeh!"

"My beautiful cousin is too wise," Jirot whispered, planting a firm kiss on his cousin's forehead, who squealed with delight.

Dunes cleared his throat, stepping towards the group, his eyes falling upon his youngest daughter. “Were you eating snow again?”

Enisa blinked. The girl turned to Jirot, blinking. She pointed at her cousin. “Jeewoh!”

“Enisa…” Jirot called, letting out another sigh.

“No…” Enisa pouted, but Jirot hugged her once more.

“Ahm, we have already spoken to her, so it is okay,” Jirot said.

Dunes’ eyes met Adam’s, and he slowly bowed his head, picking his daughter up, the pair exchanging kisses against each other’s cheeks. “I will take you to your mother.”

Enisa gasped, reached out to her cousin for help, but Jirot turned her head away, understanding she could not assist the girl at this time. Enisa blinked, turning towards Adam, holding out her hand. Adam allowed her to claim his finger, and as he leaned in, the two nuzzled against one another, and Adam wiggled his finger out of her grasp.

“See you soon, Enisa.”

“See! You!” Enisa called, waving her hand, and she accepted her Fate.

Adam and Jirot held one another’s gaze for a long moment, but bowed their heads, with the understanding their adorable little Enisa would not be seen for a short time, and so they returned to the festival.

The silver eyes stared upwards, and returned the gaze of dark eyes.

“What did I do wrong, betta?” Afraz asked.

Karot pointed up towards the man’s cup. “Jiddo, you are finished?”

“No, no, this jiddo is not finished,” Afraz assured, leaning down. “Would you like a sip.”

Karot shook his head. “I will wash it, jiddo.”

“Oh? Our Karot, he is so well behaved, and so responsible,” Afraz said, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair, his tail swaying behind him, clearing the snow under. The old man smiled, brushing along those silver brows, rubbing along the boy’s cheek with his rough hand.

Karot flushed, his tails continuing to sway, and he leaned in to his greatjiddo, who continued to adore him.

“Greatjiddo,” Konarot called, rushing up to the man, awaiting patiently for his affection, and the old man showered her and her triplet sister with such affection too.

It was Damrot who lay upon his father’s chest, claiming half of his father, his kaka, Virot, claiming the other half, the girl sucking grabbing onto the Iyrman’s bicep, squeezing it gently, in the same way her elder brother sometimes would. Jurot flexed his arm, causing the girl to jolt, turning her head towards the Iyrman, who looked out to the world, keeping them tightly held against him, not wishing them to fall from the wall, sitting upon its edge.

“Papo! You have big muscles!”

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

“Yes,” Virot confirmed. “So big. Big papo. Papo, you are my papo because you are so big. I am your niss.”

“Niece.”

“Yes,” the girl confirmed.

“You are my niece, and Damrot is my son.”

“Papo, I am your dohta too?”

“You are like my daughter,” Jurot confirmed, leaning in to plant a kiss on her forehead, and though the girl had made to speak, she did not speak the words, instead basking in her papo’s affection, the Iyrman swallowing her whole within an arm.

Damrot stared up at his father, taking in the sight of his father’s strong jaw, his ears, his hair, cut short once more, as the boy’s mother preferred, and as the boy reached up, he claimed his father’s collar within a chubby hand. As he did so, their eyes met, and the boy smiled.

Jurot wished to leap off the wall, but with the children within his arms, he did not dared to do so, especially since Virot was so heavily influenced by her elder sister.

Katool exhaled sharply, holding her hands ahead of her, staring beyond her nails, towards the world ahead of her. She yelled with each punch, each kick, and as she finally took her stance, she turned, towards her younger sisters, Kitool and Minool, and her younger cousins, Maool and Jazool, each clapping their hands excitedly towards the young woman’s display of martial prowess, who was almost twelve, and yet her martial prowess was no less than even their grandaunt, Shaool, one of the Ten Paragons, so the children thought.

“Now, I will show you Sentinel’s Rest!” Katool declared, and she revealed the sheathed sword to them, a touch longer, a touch thicker than a great many blades. It was a blade which was one of the greatest across the land, and almost two years ago, it had come to her hands.

It was this sword which once belonged to the Grand Commander of High Garden.

It was this sword which an Ool did not wield, but was still granted to the girl, who was yet a teen.

It was this sword which caused the children’s eyes to gleam, and even little Minool sat still to admire the sheathed sword.

As Katool began to unsheath the sword, she paused. Her eyes slowly trailed to the side, towards the young woman who stared down at her.

“Sister, I was not going to draw it,” Katool said.

“To think you have grown so much, you dare to lie to me,” Kitool said, and her hand blurred. Though Katool pulled back, Kitool still flicked her forehead.

‘Sister is too strong…’ Katool thought, but it was not just her thought, but the thought of the little girls who were born at a time in which Kitool had already long grown stronger than even many of their uncles, aunts, and even a great many of their elders.

03

Vonda lifted the twins up within her arms, trapping them against her chest. “Konarot, Kirot, and Karot each played with me during the first day of the festival. On the second day, Virot and Damrot spoiled me. Larot, he has remained with me the entire time. Xarot, too, has spoiled me, especially with all the gifts in his clothies, but of all my children, why is it you two I must always chase?”

Jirot blinked. The girl flushed. When her mother spoke such words, she buried her head against her mother’s bosom, mumbling her apologies, and though Jarot, too, flushed with the deep cold of shame, their mother’s tender kisses forced away such chills.

“If you do not spoil me today, you will see what I do,” Vonda threatened, storming off with her twins.

“Mummy is so angwy…” Virot mused. “Daddy, you silly boy…”

Damrot nodded his head.

Konarot turned towards the two, wondering if they had paid attention to her mother’s words, but she did not speak it aloud, instead she allowed the two to remain with her. Larot stared from the side, and as he made to turn to enjoy his solitude, Jazool half tackled the boy, and dragged him off to play with the rest of the children. As his eyes trailed to the side, he found his fool of a father staring at him, though the half elf slowly turned his head away, leaving his third son to his Fate.

However, Adam had also forgotten to spend some quality time with his wife, having checked on a great number of the workers, and meeting with various Iyrmen, and since it was the last day of the festival, which had passed in a blur, he narrowed his eyes.

‘I have made a grave mistake…’

Yet, no one could underestimate the half elf, for the half elf was who he was, and he was who he was, and that evening, like a great strategist, he played the only move he could, the singular move which would allow him to be able to calm his wife’s annoyance.

A shadow loomed over Vonda.

“Did you spoil your mother today,” the singular move said, as Adam peeked from nearby.

“Yes!” the twins declared.

“Then you must spoil me, and you must allow your father to spoil your mother,” Sonarot said, lifting the pair up, and the woman smiled towards Vonda knowingly, who did not refuse, the children almost leaping into their grandmother’s arms.

Adam cackled, taking his wife’s hand within his own, and he turned, eyes darting aside to the twins. “Now I can claim mummy to myself!”

“What!” Jirot exclaimed, pointing towards him, but the half elf stepped, and after a moment, Vonda, too, stood and stepped. “Nana! You cannot allow daddy to steal mummy!”

“I must allow him, otherwise you will not spoil me,” Sonarot joked.

“Nana, how you can say this, how you can say this, when I have not spoiled you, nana?” Jirot gasped, and in the moment of her rant, she had let slip her mummy and daddy out of her sight, and as she and her twin brother turned, they saw the last of their parents slipping away behind the wall. “Nana…”

“It seems your mother and father have left, and now that they have left, perhaps…” Sonarot began, leaning in to whisper something into the twin’s ears.

“Mummy and daddy will have another baby soon!” Jirot declared to the rest of the children.

Sonarot blinked. She had not expected the girl to have outplayed her in this way. Indeed, for perhaps she was the only one who could outplay her, for the girl’s ability in dragonchess rivalled even her elder sister’s.

“This is the best festival ever!” Jirot declared, and the children all squealed with such delight.

As Adam returned, seeing the children all smiling, he smiled in return. It was only then he noticed they were smiling too brightly, and as they swarmed he and his wife, his eyes trailed to the side.

“Daddy! I want to name our new papa and kaka, okay?”

Adam coughed. “What?”

“Nana said you are going to have a new-,”

“Jirot, you must bring a cup of water to Pam,” Sonarot called, trying her best to defend herself, but it was too late, as both Vonda and Adam stared towards her, and she slowly turned her head, unable to handle their gaze.

‘Aunt, what have you done?’ Adam thought, all the while his cheeks burned, along with Vonda’s.

“Your father and I went for a walk, and drank some tea, and shares a few biscuits,” Vonda stated firmly.

“Mummy, daddy, do you think I did not notice?” Jirot accused, returning from handing her kako a cup of water.

“Notice what?” Adam asked.

“You did not answer my question,” Jirot replied, narrowing her eyes.

“What ques-,” Adam began, his mind catching up to his lips. “Okay. You can name your next sibling, but we might not have one for some time.”

“What?” Jirot gasped. “Nana! You said-,”

“Jirot, will you bring Pam a cushion?” Sonarot asked.

Jirot darted away, but returned immediately, except when she did, she stared up at her grandmother with an accusatory glare. The woman stared down at her, hoping for mercy. Jirot held up a finger, which was blade like, and dared her grandmother to try and tease her once more.

Adam was about to tell her not to point like that to her nana, but the woman deserved it, and as Jirot turned to face her father, the half elf lifted her up. “We will try, but you must show mercy, for a matter like this, it is so important, right?”

“Daddy, I know, I know, but…” Jirot pouted lightly.

Thankfully, the next day was Gift Giving, and by then, the girl would forget, so Adam thought.

“The best kind of gift on this day is a new sibling,” Jirot said, sipping her warm milk, turning her head away from her mother and father.

‘I fear we have created someone too terrifying,’ Adam thought, reaching up to his forehead, shaking his head lightly, for even with the girl surrounded by her various siblings and cousins, Adam making sure Ranya, Enisa, and even the half elf triplets were distracting her, she had managed to let slip such words, in front of so many Iyrmen and workers.

Jirot held her mother’s gaze, noticing her mother’s red cheeks. She slowly raised her cup, sipping away at her milk long and slow, holding her mother’s gaze with a hard look.

‘You think just because you are my mummy, you can bully me?’ Jirot thought. ‘Of course! Just this once!’

Jurot slipped out of his rage, his eyes slowly trailing to the side, towards his grandfather, who needed to slip into a second rage to stop himself from bursting into laughter, his face red, the veins on his neck and forehead threatening to burst, and once more, seeing his grandfather struggle, the young Iyrman slipped into a rage.

04

As the last week of nightval passed, the snow whipping terribly into the air, Adam continued to enchant, until, finally, the snow calmed, and the calm brought in the storm known as Twilight.

It was upon the first of Twilight, as Adam completed his morning exercises, on the way back to the baths, he paused. He turned. He spotted a few familiar faces within the

training yard, but there were two who were absent.

Jaygak placed down her cup of tea, for the sillouette of trouble approached. However, seeing the question in his eyes, Jaygak smiled.

Adam held a great many questions, uncertain of which to ask, but he bowed his head. “Are they going to be gone all month?”

“They may not return even in dawnval.”

Adam remained silent for a long while, not wanting to think about the consequences about something like that. “It seems I can finally steal away my adorable nieces and nephews and my cousins.”

Jaygak continued to smile, and held Adam’s gaze for a long while, before he was finally reassured enough to step away.

The business was full of life, for only a handful of the workers went out to assist during such a month. Rowan’s eyes darted to the half elf, who had come to visit them, without his children. Today, a grave aura emanated from the half elf, the kind of aura only some people could spot, those who understood the burdens the half elf carried on his shoulders. Rowan blew on the small arrow, brushing along the feather, placing it to one side. Although he could not step out next year, at the very least, his arrows would be able to take an eye or two of the Reavers.

“I hope the business is treating you well,” Adam said, not just to Rowan and his cohort, but almost every different group, although it was with this particular group, half his size, whom he spoke to with such a softness.

“We sure are, Executive!” Copper declared, his eyes sparkling. “Executive, are you going to watch us with our staffplay?”

“If you show off your staffplay, won’t I lose heart?” Adam teased, and the boy smirked in return, but Adam watched the children, those who had been within the business for so long, and those the business had watched over with such eagerness. It was these children which had forced Adam to face against a particular Marshal, that of Lord Benjamin Gravesea, who had dared to covet the children, and even with his army, he could not take the children away from the half elf’s arms.

“Working hard!” came a shout, as a storm of trouble appeared. However, it was not just a singular bolt of trouble.

“Hardly working?” came a second shout, from beside the first bolt.

“Yeah!” came a third shout, from beside the second bolt.

“Virot, you are a Little Boss too,” Jirot said, placing a hand upon the girl’s back.

“Yeah?” Virot replied.

“I am a Little Boss, and you are a…” Jirot began, only to see her father to one side. “Daddy, what are you doing here?”

“I was checking in on the business,” Adam replied, a guilty look within his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just… checkin’ on the business too…” Jirot replied, a guilty look within her eyes.

‘You punk, did you think I would allow you to play with them first?’

‘You punk, did you think I would allow you to play with them first?’

Adam and Jirot held one another’s gaze for a long while, but it was Adam who relented first, for little Damrot charged the half elf.

“The people of the business, they listen to daddy, but you must study hard, for they must listen to you instead,” Jirot said, clasping her younger sister’s shoulders.

“Study?” Virot replied, her leaf shaped ears drooping.

“Studying is so fun,” Jirot said.

Virot raised her brow, incredulous, revealing just whose sister she was. “Papa, you like to study too?”

“I do not need to study,” Little Jarot replied, and he flexed his arm in front of his sister, hidden behind his sleeve. “I will be strong.”

“Virot strong too!” Virot flexed her arms, those which were hidden by sleeves.

“You need to study a little,” Adam said, his shadow engulfing his children, who blinked up towards him. As they held one another’s eyes, the family smiled.

It was the start of the month, so they relaxed, taking the month as it came, slowly, carefully, for it was such a month. Indeed, for the children were not even allowed to wear their rings, those which could bring forth magic, and Adam, outside of his morning training, did not even cast his spells to fabricate even a single item, for it was the Twilight Month.

The chubby girl glared up at the half elf, who narrowed her eyes, and as the two stared into one another’s eyes, she turned her head, smiling.

“You silly girl,” Adam whispered, but planted a firm kiss on the girl’s cheek, holding her tight within his arms. His eyes trailed to Vonda, and he wondered if he should ask, but he decided against it, not wanting to bother his wife. ‘No. I'm having so much trouble with trying to spoil them. Eight kids is already so many…’

Pamarot babbled noisily towards the half elf, half her words making sense to him, the other half made sense to her, and only her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah!” Pamarot shrugged her shoulders, reaching up to grab her papo’s face. “Papo! Izgobigul?”

“I can’t believe it!”

“Yeah!”

It was upon a particular day when Adam heard a voice.

“Daddy!” the voice said.

It was not entirely unexpected, but considering who it was, the half elf was upon his feet in an instant, and the girl was swept up within his chest.

“Water! Is going home!” Virot declared, pointing towards the side.

“What?”

“The wivuh! The wivuh is going home!”

“What?” Adam replied, but the girl continued to point, and so Adam followed her finger, only to find a great many Iyrmen stepping out, and as they approached the walls, their eyes fell upon one of the rivers of the Iyr, which was rushing towards the Iyr, rather than down it.

Adam blinked.

“A reversed river?” Jaygak mused from beside the half elf. “It seems the Chief will be busy…”

“Why?”

“It is a sign of good fortune,” Jaygak replied. “It is a sign blood should be spilled, but there is still a ban on stepping out of the Iyr.”

“I see…” Adam said, turning to see how many of the Iyrmen were smiling with such delight. ‘The Chief is going to have a hard time indeed…’

As Adam returned, he heard a cry, his hair standing on end, his eyes darting aside to one of the rooms to the side, in which he heard a familiar voice.

“Kako!” came a shout, as Jirot rushed into the estate, but a shadow loomed over her.

“You cannot,” Old Jarot said.

“You dare?” Jirot glared up at her greatfather, and prepared her hands to cast her spell.

“No magic,” Adam warned.

Jirot turned her head, but quickly turned back to her greatfather, having just remembered it was Twilight. “Step aside, babo! Even if it is you!”

“Your mother is watching over your aunt, and you must let her give birth in peace.”

Jirot blinked, her mouth forming a tiny circle, and Little Jarot behind her also opened his mouth in the same way. “What?”

“Is it lucky to be born during the time of a reversed river?” Adam asked.

Old Jarot grinned wide like a beast. “I was born during a reversed river.”

“Oh no!” the trio cried.

The old man’s jaw tensed, glaring at the half elf, then his eyes trailed to Virot, who side eyed her greatfather, as though daring him to continue glaring towards her fool of a father, and the old man closed his eyes, tears trailing down his face, doing his best not to laugh.

05

“What?” Virot gasped, turning towards her elder sister in such utter bewilderment. “My papa?”

“This is your papa, Borot,” Jirot confirmed, her eyes peeking down at the boy, swaddled in a scarf, within his mother’s arms, the woman pale faced, exhausted, and she only allowed the children to come to visit her, for, especially one of her nieces, always made sure she was comfortable. “Kako, you are comfortable?”

Pam smiled. “I am a little tired, but once I sleep, I will be more comfortable.”

“You worked hard, kako,” Jirot said, reaching out a hand, placing it upon the woman’s knee gently, even more gently as her mother reached for her hand. “I will be sure to deal with papo when he returned.”

“Thank you.”

As the elder ushered the children out, Adam, standing opposite the door about ten paces, raised his brows, eyes darting along his children, as if they would suddenly possess the face of his nephew, or, rather, within his heart, his son. “Is he cute?”

“How can you ask such a question, daddy?” Jirot replied.

A beat of silence accompanied them.

A chorus of cry filled the air.

“Of course!”

Adam inhaled sharply, wanting to spoil his nephew, and he cursed himself, for why hadn’t he made a Legendary Enhanced axe for the boy? ‘Is a Greater shield good enough for my boy? No! Why didn’t I…’

Konarot’s tail swayed, still able to smell the boy, who smelled slightly of both of his parents, her kako and papo, and had his own unique scent too. The girl looked up towards the sky, and her heart throbbed, for now she had another sibling, so she would need to grow even stronger to protect them, as she had protected her younger siblings.

Bam awaited his turn to meet his grandson, having heard the news, and, as he had every morning for some time, had baked his various baked good, from the bread to the jam doughnuts, and he stood outside, the scent wafting into the room, before he was finally allowed in, for he knew the way to his daughter’s heart, and assisted in feeding her, his eyes peeking down at the boy, who was fast asleep, barely breathing, eyes shut tight, angry. Beside the boy was a figure one might have wished to take care of the boy even over his own mother, a woman who wore an amulet of a rose over a sun, that of a Ray of Life’s Rose, who beamed down at the boy as though he were her own.

Upon seeing the boy, Adam inhaled sharply, feeling the warmth flood through his chest, his heart, and as he wished to pick up the boy, the energy within him burst throughout. The next morning, Adam assisted with the nearby farming alongside his children, harvesting the various fruits and vegetables of Twilight, but he did not stop there, as he cut down various trees, forging his muscles, and after working up a sweat, he assisted in the Iyr’s paper making, mashing them to a pump, and assisting the transfer of paper once it had been stacked, taking it from the room of production to the room of storage.

That was until the shadow of a particular child loomed from the doorway, her amber eyes full of a glare.

The sound of the scattering dice awoke little Monarot, who sat up, and stared out towards her kakas and papas, and her papo, who called himself her dada, the girl rubbing her eyes.

Jirot stared down at her sheet, rubbing her chin lightly. Her eyes trailed upwards, towards her father, who held her gaze. “This is why I like to play Wizards, daddy.”

“Being a Fighter is fun.”

“I swing my axe,” Jirot finally said.

“Of course, my dear,” Adam replied.

“Of course,” Jirot relented.

As Adam walked alongside his daughter, who led he and her siblings, his thoughts wandered. ‘I really should have donated way more weapons. I also should have paid more attention to the Reavers.’

Adam let out a soft sigh, and glanced up towards the sky, which was so expansive. He thought of the reversed river, wondering if that was a sign to him, rather than the Iyr.

Jaygak sipped her sea, and as the shadow of the half elf appeared, she poured him a cup of tea. “Thank you again for allowing Jirot to assist me.”

“It’s not as though I had much of a choice,” Adam replied, sipping the tea lightly. Thankfully, though Adam had promised to spend time with the girl, she enjoyed farming with him in the mornings, and then in the afternoons, the half elf could slip away to keep himself busy, while the girl assisted the Elder with various matters, the girl’s skill with numbers rivalling even the likes of Churot.

“What is it this time?”

“I’m wondering how to leverage our magical weapons before the war with the Reavers will end.”

“Is it to simple?” Jaygak replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Since we’ll be stepping onto the field soon, it will be,” Adam replied, hiding his smirk by sipping his tea.

“If you are still in need of gold…” Jaygak tapped her stylus on the journal. “It is not as though you ache for gold, even after the various weapons you require to make, especially since you intend to donate a great many to the Iyr, you could defer payment, and raise your standing with the various forces.”

“Defer payment?”

“You will donate to Life’s Rose, but, you could lend some magical weapons to the various forces, and should they return the weapons, you can consider it a favour to them, and if they should keep the weapons, or, perhaps, they misplace the weapons, you may charge them the typical sum of gold.”

“So this is what happens when you are called an Elder…”

Jaygak narrowed her eyes, but her lips formed the widest of smiled.

“Man, I need way more enchanters…” Adam sighed. “It’s me, Vonda, Sara, Kiara, and the, what, five Iyrmen? I need some more that work for the business though, otherwise Jirot is going to ask me to clean my neck if I have her mother and favourite kako working all the time.”

Jaygak’s smile dropped.

Adam smirked.

The two sipped their tea lightly.

“What about donating mundane weapons?” Adam asked. “I mean, I made a lot of armour, and I have quite a few weapons stockpiled, and next year, although, ah, I mean…”

“To donate weapons with steel from the Iyr, which can then be used against us…”

“Right, right. I mean, I can probably donate some to a few allied forces, right? Life’s Rose, Black Mountain, maybe a few to the Amira?”

“A few may be acceptable.”

“Politics, man…” Adam sighed. “Although, by any chance, could I trade some to the Iyr for some ore? I need even more ore.”

“If you have made weapons with ore you have procured, you may lend them. If you wish to trade for our ore, I shall hope the weapons shall remain within the business.”

“Alright.”

“I have to do what is best for the Iyr,” Jaygak said, holding Adam’s gaze.

The half elf bowed his head, and thanked the Elder for the company, and tea.

It was at that time someone was causing trouble. It was the one who had green skin and amber eyes.

“What is this?” Korin asked.

“Uthur,” Little Jarot said.

Korin leaned in to sniff it lightly. “Isn’t this…”

“It is to gift to one’s ahm for when they are married,” Little Jarot said, holding Korin’s gaze.

‘He is his sister’s brother…’

Adam’s laughter filled the air as Korin informed him of how Jarot had teased him.

Sara, holding little Jarot, noticed the way he was side eyeing her too, and the woman slowly began to smile, causing the boy to flush. “You are still my nephew.”

“Aila…” Little Jarot turned his head, hiding his head behind his crossed eyes.

“Why are you laughing?” Jirot asked. “My brother is right!”

06

A warm hand upon Adam’s shoulder stopped him. His eyes trailed from his daughter’s amber eyes to the woman’s dark eyes. Even the little girl’s eyes trailed to the woman’s dark eyes. For a moment, the pair fought, eye against eye, gaze against gaze, but the girl clasped her fist within her palm, bowing her head, and she withdrew, a tactical retreat, for there were only a handful of figures she could never defeat, and one such figure was her grandmother.

The branches swayed. The cool kind kissed their faces. Their robes fluttered lightly in the air.

“How are you?” Sonarot asked, but the words, though soft, were heavy.

“I’m…” Adam began, and though he made to speak as one might have expected, the word was not true, and to his Aunt, to his children’s grandmother, he could not lie. “I’ll be okay.”

The word were enough for the woman to understand the heavy thoughts she had felt emanating from her dearest nephew, the father of her grandchildren.

Adam continued to follow the woman, uncertain if he was meant to continue speaking, or if she wished to ask specific questions, but as they finally returned to the estate, Sonarot reached up to his shoulder, squeezing it gently, and her smile threatened to pierce his soul.

“If you continue to worry, your hair will grow silver, and your children will worry that you have grown too old, and too weak, to bear their bullying.”

“No matter how old I become, I will be able to endure my daughter’s bullying.”

“Only your daughter?”

“Perhaps only my daughter, or all those but my daughter, for it is roughly the same…”

As the two exchanged a smirk between one another, the woman led him into the estate, and as Adam returned, he found his children awaiting for him, and, seeing the smile upon his face, the children understood the two had spoken of them.

Sonarot caught Shikan’s eye, but she shook her head, and with that, the Iyrman sighed, uncertain of what to do, and as Xarot reached up to his hair, the Iyrman slowly trailed his eyes towards the boy.

“Even your sis-,”

Xarot tugged on Shikan’s hair, and as the boy found Shikan’s eyes with his own, the boy blinked. “Baba.”

“Do you think because you call me babe I will forgive you.”

Xarot blinked. He smiled innocently.

‘It is always so difficult to deal with my grandchildren,’ Shikan thought, lifting the boy up, tossing him up, causing him to squeal.

There was one set of children who called a great many people their babas and their nanas, and it was those babas and nanas who accepted the words, and the responsibility which came with such a title, so Shikan rubbed the side of his head, in which his grandson had tugged his hair, and he smothered the boy with a great many kisses, causing him to flee away from that baba of his.

Shikan wondered.

Once the children were older, and they would finally stop using the terms baba and nana, would they still call him their grandfather? In his heart, he hoped they would not stop using such terms, but as the cool wind cut against his face, he understood he would need to memorize the sensation within his heart, the tone of their voice, and the mischief within their eyes.

“I got you!” Jirot declared, grabbing onto the woman’s leg.

“You are too swift now!” Lucy replied, picking up little Jirot, spinning with her. “When did you become so fast?”

“I am my nano’s greatdaughter after all,” Jirot said, and with that, she leapt through the air, as though she cleared the world, though she had taken but a step. The girl threw out her fist, and let out a thundering rumble from her lips, causing Lucy to skid away, her arms forming a cross to protect herself from the thunderous blow of her fists. “Even if I am a Scribe Mage, my fists are forged of that which is greater than steel, and my heart, greater than diamonds!”

“That technique, what do you call it?”

“Thunder Punch!” Jirot declared.

Lucy blinked. “Oh.”

“It is a simple name, but it is a name of truth, and it does what it says on the tin.”

“Does tin do something?”

“You can turn it into bronze with copper.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Little Jarot, too, considered her sister’s words, and wondered if that’s what their father meant whenever he would speak such a phrase.

As the days passed by, Adam continued to spoil the children, not just his own, but his various cousins. As he squat with Kavgak within his arms, the girl cackling with delight, a shadow formed over him, and the children parted to allow the girl’s father to claim her, except after he kissed the girl’s head, he placed her down.

Adam held Jogak’s gaze and followed him out. His uncles and aunts had started to catch his gaze, and sometimes take him out for walks to check on him. He flushed lightly at the thought he was worrying his aunts and uncles, and could only hope they forgave him for doing so.

‘Seriously…’

“What am I to do with a nephew like you?” Jogak grumbled.

Adam closed his eyes, taking the blow from his uncle.

“When you step out next year, you will clear away the Reavers without allowing us to step out to enjoy ourselves…” Jogak huffed lightly, clasping his hands behind his back.

‘No wonder Raygak is so cute…’ Adam thought. “I’ll have to apologise in advance then, uncle.”

“I will forgive you, but only because if I do not, Jirot will…” Jogak allowed the words to remain unspoken, for though he could have easily been one of the few who could deal with the girl, he had allowed the little one to bully him so furiously, he was unable to take that place within her heart. Thankfully, there was Kaygak, and the other Gak family members, even the girl’s own aunt, who was only slightly older than her, but was so dependable, that daughter of his, the one that caused his arms to pulse just from picking her up.

“I am sure she will show mercy.”

“There is no doubt…” A shadow of a smile appeared upon Jogak’s lips. “If you are to step out next year, you should be careful, but I hear you had thoughts of procuring various ore.”

“That’s right.”

Jogak remained silent for a long while as they walked, considering the fact he was an Iyrman, and so he had to keep such Iyrmanly thoughts. “It is difficult to have a child who becomes an Elder, for now, she outranks even her own father.”

“Especially when the child is the aunt of a particular daughter of mine.”

Jogak turned his head, his eyes full of a pointed glare, though his lips were wide with a knowing smile. “I heard you wished to forge various equipment to lend out, and those you wished to hand over with various magical weapons during the war.”

“I should be able to earn some influence, or perhaps, some mercy in the future, if I do something like that.”

“You, and not the business?”

“It is I who will cause great trouble, not the business.”

Jogak and Adam held one another’s gazes for a long while, and the Iyrman smirked. He let out a light scoff, chuckling lightly, and as he placed his hand upon Adam’s shoulder, he made to speak, but ended up laughing instead. It was the kind of laughter which stated Adam didn’t need to speak the words, and yet he spoke the words anyway, and it had overwhelmed the Iyrman.

“Uncle…”

Jogak raised a hand, clearing his throat quickly. “Ehm. If you wish to do such a thing, you may forge chain shirts, and chain mail, the two shall be enough, for there are no doubt many warriors who would like chain mail instead of chain shirts, and though adorned in thick clothing, furs, leathers, hides, and prayers, who would prefer chain shirts to such.”

“I guess I don’t have to be too focused on sizes too if it’s both of those…” Adam considered it.

“Once the various matters are settled, you may head to Jaghi, for you have a small connection there, and you should be able to procure better ore from Jaghi, if not from Jaghi, then Western Aldland.”

“Western Aldland?” Adam thought, vaguely recalling something about their ore.

“Jaghi’s ore is almost unmatched, for the ore it possesses, Jagite, is in a league of its own. The jagite weapons you bought previously, finely made were they, were forged of the scraps of such ore, and though they are beautiful, and some may hold a sharpness outclassing typical steel, but true jagite, such a blade is welcome even by Iyrmen.”

‘Damn.’ Adam’s brows raised in surprise.

“Indeed, true jagite ore is perhaps the best in Aldland,” Jogak stated, without much confusion. “However, typical steel from Western Aldland is greater compared the typical steel one can find in the rest of Aldland. Thundersmith works only steel that is of such quality or greater.”

“I see…” Adam considered it, but rubbed his chin. “The Western Duke hadn’t shown us much kindness last we met.”

“You met with the…” Jogak began, only to recall the purge almost a decade ago. “Ah…”

‘I wonder if he’ll remember…’

“You are close with the Amira of Aswadasad, so if you wish for finer steel, it will not be too difficult for you to procure such fine steel.”

“Oh yeah.”

Jogak let out a soft sigh, one that could only come from an uncle of Adam. “What plans do you have for the business long term?”

“I just want to grow it to make a ton of money to make sure my children have...” Adam paused. It was then he realized his children were Iyrmen. He had known it, but he had forgotten how such a relationship would affect the business. If they were Iyrmen, even if he didn’t leave them with anything, they would be fine, and even if he added nothing else to their hoards, it was an acceptable amount. He supposed he should throw in a few magical weapons, just in case. “I guess I need it to create a force of great warriors to face against a world ending threat.”

Jogak blinked.

07

Sonarot wondered what her nephew had done this time, for Jogak’s eyes called for her immediately, and so the woman placed down little Amalrot, who side eyed her mother, but, thankfully, her elder sister completely engulfed the girl in such tender affection.

Upon hearing of the matter, Sonarot’s eyes trailed towards Adam, for though Jogak may have been worried about Adam’s words, it was Sonarot, who knew the tale in its entirety, who understood what the half elf meant by it. There was a greater question, one both Iyrmen understood, whether the Iyr would allow a third party to grow a great power upon the Iyr’s land, but that was something they could discuss another time.

“The United Kindom holds great influence,” Sonarot reminded the young man. “The Duchess of the North, the Duchess of the East, the Faro of the North, the Amira, and, perhaps, the Lord Marshal and the King of Floria. The influence of such a business could extend even further, towards the east, to the confederacy, to the Empire, beyond if you so wish.”

Adam frowned slightly, and upon hearing the words from his aunt, his shoulders grew heavier and heavier.

“The business of the United Kindom could gain more political influence and greater benefits for working in each country.”

“I'm not entirely sure how far I want to go in that regard...”

“There are few enchanters across the land. There are those who create one, perhaps two Basic weapons each month, and often, it is instead a singular Greater weapon each season, for most Basic weapons are found from troves of old, of ancient treasuries, crypts, and tombs. Your business, it may disrupt them in some way, but there are more warriors than one may realize, and even if you enchanted for your entire life, it may not be enough, but, now, with your special ability, and with how many now possess it, your influence, Adam, is unimaginable.”

Adam wondered how much he had offended his Aunt for her to pressure him like this, the woman’s eyes gleaming with mischief, for she was her granddaughter’s grandmother.

“However, the Wizards of Skool may be displeased, for it is they who possess one of the greatest enchanting businesses across the world.”

“I should have expected…”

“They visited you earlier, but that does not mean they are not your enemy.”

“Right...”

Sonarot placed a hand upon the half elf’s shoulder, her lips forming the most gentle of smiles. “You have no need to worry. We will protect you. Do what you will. Adam, as long as you do not forget the Iyr, it will not forget all you have done for it. For the Iyr never forgets.”

Adam flushed lightly, and inhaled sharply. “I won’t ever forget the Iyr, Aunt. There are things you can and cannot say, and if you continue to bully me like that, I will speak with my daughter.”

“I did not mean to go that far,” Sonarot teased, pinching the half elf’s cheeks gently.

“Although, I suppose, now that I think about it, should we get the Sen and Jin families on the board? They should probably have a Director position, right?”

“What of the Gek and Fev families?”

“Whose families are those?” Adam mused, holding his chin, holding the woman’s gaze, who raised her brows, and smiled wider. The half elf smirked.

“I will tell your grandmother you spoke such words.”

“Since my grandmother is so beautiful, as my daughter will stated, she will forgive me.”

“I mean mother.”

“Oh? She’s my grandmother?”

“Is she not your grandfather’s husband?”

“Whose grandfather!” Adam declared, grinning wide, and the tears flowed down his face, unable to contain himself any longer, laughing.

Sonarot smiled, and pinched his cheeks again, this fool of hers, who had yet to call her by a particular title, but she would await for it. There was no need to rush, even after all this time, and as she continued to smile warmly, she was certain he understood.

“Oh, man. I forgot to give the workers a bonus this year. I’ve been so busy. I guess I could save it for the children?”

“Do your children…” Sonarot began, but she did not fall for it.

Adam held her gaze long and hard, waiting for her to continue, but smirked. “I meant the children of the business, President. I could put in extra gold for their savings for when they're older.”

Sonarot smiled, narrowing her eyes. “Have you thought of handing the position of Manager to Churot?”

“Churot?” Adam paused, considering the young Iyrman.

“He should take the position of a Manager, as the accountant, for though Lisa works well, when the business is closely related to the Iyr…”

“I guess so…” Adam hadn’t considered it that way, but slowly bowed his head, not wanting to get into trouble with the Iyr, which was so careful. Adam considered his cousin, who had still to be tattooed. ‘I wonder when he’ll get it…’

“Do you wish for more Iyrmen to join the business as warriors or other tradespeople?” Sonarot asked.

“Yeah…” Adam sighed. “We need more enchanters. I'm sorting that out still. Also, we need more smiths and such. I'd like smiths to make a ton of weapons while I sort out armour and stuff. Although, I guess, what with my magic… I don’t want to rely on it too much, though, only for when we need something quick.”

“It can be done,” Sonarot said. “A Smith, and four apprentices for them.”

“They would need to follow the business rules, and will be paid the same as any other member of the business…”

“You should pay an initial fee of one hundred gold to the Iyr for each greater trades person.”

“I can do that much, at least. For the warriors…”

“There are some who have stated their intention to join, although, they may join the next year, or the year after, along with the crafters, for the matter of the Reavers is beginning to take priority.”

“I’ll sort something out with them later, then. The Elder already asked me to watch over a few young Iyrmen, so I’ll focus on them for now.”

“Thank you,” Sonarot said, brushing the half elf’s cheek, causing the warmth to spread to his cheeks. “The children, yours, Lanarot, the others, they will be taught in the Iyr, but when they reach their early teens, they will join under you. It is you who may train them with your steel.”

“I can’t do that,” Adam replied.

“No?” Sonarot replied, surprised.

“They...” Adam crossed his arms. “They should stay small and cute forever. I won't train them because they'll never grow up.”

Sonarot stared down at the fellow, who continued to grumble, about all the children growing up too quickly, and even about little Inakan, who was still small and adorable, just like little Jirot and Jarot.

Adam considered the girl. She had been born with a weak body and with so many health issues. How could she join the business? She should stay in the Iyr and happily grow up within it. The others too, who should know the bounty of the Iyr, and the safety of its walls.

“What of your children? Will they remain as the Little Bosses.”

“Assuredly,” Adam replied.

“They will one day inherit this business of yours.”

“I mean…”

Sonarot smiled, pinching his nose. “Will you also Awaken your cousins? Little Tavgak always remains with Saygak. He may influence her into becoming a Blood Mage.”

“I'll Awaken any of them who wish to Awaken.”

“All of them?”

“If they want it.”

“Do you have enough beads?”

“They might need to wait a bit as I beat up a bunch of Reavers,” Adam joked.

Sonarot smiled.

08

Xarot tackled his father, hugging his leg, and angrily growled against his father’s leg, and after wrestling his fathers leg, he stumbled back, letting out a huff.

“Yes?” Adam asked.

Xarot pointed. It was a point he had learnt from his elder sister, and with his blade liked finger, he cleaved through the world. “Daddy.”

“That’s me.”

Xarot cackled, pausing as his brother picked him up, blinking. As the two held one another, the boy flushed lightly, resting his face against his father’s warm neck. “Daddy! Love!”

Adam gasped, his heart skipping a beat, the warmth of his son’s affection filling him. “Oh! My boy! I love you too!”

“Daddy!”

“Xarot!”

Pamarot rushed up beside Adam, patting his leg, pointing back, only to find that her sister was gone, no longer chasing her. “Ock.”

“What’s wrong, Pamarot?”

Pamarot looked up to her uncle. She blinked. The girl turned and fled away, leaving her uncle bewildered, though it was a familiar feeling to him.

Jirot and Jarot sat upon their papo’s lap, who read them a tale, the handsome red skinned Iyrman allowing them to turn the pages, the pair alternating.

“Papo…” Jirot whispered, reaching into her pocket, revealing a small sweet within the wrapper, holding her papo’s gaze.

“Thank you,” Laygak whispered.

Little Jarot struggled with his button for a moment, but opened up his pocket, and revealed another small sweet, holding it up to Laygak.

“Thank you.” Laygak smiled, causing little Jarot to flush.

Konarot, Kirot, and Karot played with their papos and kakos too, Nirot, who also played with another set of triplets, and Naqokan and Uwajin, each of whom displayed their family’s swordplays, who were not entirely unrelated to these triplets, for their grandfathers and grandmothers were called babo and nano by the children before them.

It was thankful the children knew so many, and were raised by so many, for it allowed their mother and father moments to themselves, each clasping one another’s rough hands. Adam could feel how rough his wife’s hands had become, even just this year, and she, too, could feel how rough his hands had become in return.

“Is there anything you’d like?” Adam asked, breaking through the silence, thumb brushing along the side of her hand.

“I’m satisfied,” Vonda assured. “What of you?”

“I can’t complain. Adorable children. A beautiful wife. A superpower which is keeping me alive even though I keep trying to get myself killed. Pizza.” Adam smiled.

The park was no longer quite as green, but the grey and purple held its own beauty, and was full of life as other Iyrmen, a great many children, enjoyed the bounty of the Iyr.

“Adam?”

“Yes?”

“Next year, I intend to enchant more shields for Life’s Rose.”

“I’ll pass them along when… I step out,” Adam said, taking a moment for her to understand why he did not include her.

“I hope it will not cause an issue with the Iyr.”

“If it’s a request from my wife, the Iyr should understand, and at times like this, they know to step back,” Adam dared to say, kissing the back of her hand. Although he may have been a fool, he had already discussed this with Jaygak. “I should be able to do at least that much.”

“I hope our children take after you,” Vonda said, resting her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Karot seems to be taking after you and I. Jarot is taking after grandfather.”

“Whose grandfather?” Adam huffed but smiled.

“Jirot is...” Vonda began, for though she could joke about Jarot, Jirot was something else. “Jirot is Jirot.”

Adam smiled, nodding his head, resting it against Vonda’s head gently. “Virot and Xarot are still a little young. They should just concentrate on growing well. No, what am I saying? They should stay small and cute forever, and remained within their father’s arms.”

“If you work too hard, you will miss when they are small and cute,” Vonda teased, intertwining their pinkies together.

Adam frowned, for the words cut deep, even if they were just a joke. “I need to work hard to make sure they're okay.”

“They are Iyrmen now, and there is still their inheritance from this mother of theirs.”

“Yeah…” Adam’s eyes fell towards his wife, catching her admiring his jaw, though her eyes swiftly met his. “If we have any more children, they'll be Iyrmen too…”

Vonda smiled slightly.

“I assume Karot will want to join the Order, since he’s closest to you,” Adam mused. “If he’s going to join them when he’s older, then I’ll have to put in some effort from my end to make sure there are no hard feelings between us.”

Vonda closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers trailing up her husband’s neck, to his jaw, and then she brushed down the side of his cheek. “Do you intend to grow stronger.”

“Yeah.”

Vonda squeezed his hand gently.

“I won't be getting stronger soon,” the half elf assured. “I'm currently working on other stuff, but…”

Vonda probably understood Adam’s lie was thoughtless, but he had caught himself.

“I’ve got a few other matters to attend to at the same time.”

The pair remained within one another’s arms for a long while, until, finally, the pair returned back to the estate, to find their children in the middle of their own business. The business of play.

“Father, look!” Jirot grumbled, throwing a hand towards Xarot, who blinked innocently, as innocent as Jirot.

“What am I looking at?”

“Xarot is not listening to me.”

“Xarot isn't listening?” Adam raised his brow, picking up his son, who smiled wider. “Are you bullying your older sister?”

Xarot smiled innocently once more.

“No bullying Jirot okay?”

“Okeh!” Xarot replied, hugging his father’s neck.

“What were you telling him?”

“I told him to give me the stone.”

“Did he find the stone?”

“Yes.”

“Then why must he give it to you?”

“Daddy! He is so young! What if he eats it and chokes, daddy?” Jirot gasped, throwing out her arms.

“What if you eat it and choke?”

“Daddy, that was only once or twice.”

Adam raised his brows.

“I did not do it again for so long! I did not do it this entire year!”

Adam raised his brows.

“Daddy, this time I am telling the truth, ask mummy.”

Adam turned to look towards Vonda, who was in the middle of picking up her daughter, and pretending not to hear Jirot.

Jirot blinked. “Et tu, mummy?”

09

Adam wrote within his journal, of the cool wind, the warm food, and the scratching of his nephew, Damrot, who doodled beside him, laying upon the blankets, the wooden slab providing the paper a surface so he could doodle away peacefully. Adam turned his head, noting the marks on the wooden slab, even though the boy said he wouldn’t mark the wood, and yet, in his play, he hadn’t noticed.

A girl charged towards the pair. A finger pointed towards the half elf, threatening him. “Cousin Adam! You must play with me.”

“I suppose I have to.”

Damrot blinked, turning his head towards his uncle, and his aunt, the boy pouting.

“Damrot, come,” Adam called, holding out his hand for the boy, who smiled, taking the half elf’s hand.

“Damrot is too small to play,” Gurot said, the boy who was so large, and chonky, built like a hill.

“Damrot wants to play, don’t you?” Adam asked, and the boy pouted, nodding his head gently. “I will help you play.”

Murot rushed up towards the four, the boy a slightly smaller hill, and he blinked, finding Damrot within one of Adam’s arms. Then, a shadow, and the boy floated through the air, winking down at him.

The children rushed about, finding sticks to play with, while Damrot panted beside his uncle. The boy turned his head, towards Adam, who watched the children play, this uncle of his who he had known his entire life, and who would step away and return, but who always held such grand affection for the boy.

“Papo Adam?”

“Yes?”

“I will grow up and I will be like you?”

“What are you saying, little Damrot? You, you are so small and so cute, and you will stay so small and so cute, won’t you?”

“No?”

“No?”

“I am Iyrman.”

Adam held the boy’s gaze, and though the boy was so meek, in this moment, his eyes were full of confidence. “So you are.”

“Yes.” Damrot smiled. The boy blinked. His eyes trailed up slightly. “Papo, you are not an Iyrman?”

“No.”

“I still love you, papo.”

Adam gasped. His arms blurred, and he picked up the boy, and pinned him in close, peppering the boy with countless kisses. “I love you too, Damrot! My boy! Damrot, my son!”

“I am daddy’s son, papo!”

“What! You! You are not your papo’s son?” Adam asked, gasping.

“No! I am daddy’s son, papo, daddy’s son, and you are my papo, my daddy’s papa!”

“You!” Adam sniffled. “Do you love your little sisters?”

“Yes!”

“Both of them?”

Damrot held up a fist. “I love my sisters so much! I am their big brother! I will protect them, papo, because I am their big brother!”

“That’s right!” Adam swarmed the boy in affection, peppering the boy’s face with his kisses. The boy smiled, clutching his uncle tightly within his arms. “My Damrot, who is so sweet, so big, and so strong. You will watch over your sisters, and you will watch over Virot too, won’t you?”

“Virot is stronger than me,” Damrot replied.

“Ah, so I suppose she’ll look after you?” Adam asked.

Damrot nodded.

The half elf smiled, and the boy smiled in return, and once more the two embraced tightly, the boy’s arms almost as powerful as his father’s when it came to hugging.

“Papo?”

“Yes?”

“The Reavers, they are fighting?”

“Yes. They’re fighting, I mean, they’re fighting everyone, from the Iyrmen, to the Aldish, to the Florians, to the Aswadians.”

“Papo, you will go and fight them?”

“Yes.”

“Soon?”

“Uh, not soon, but later, some time next year, maybe after the first season, so the second season, what’s it called?”

“Noonval.”

“Aha! Noonval! That’s right! I will go in noonval, when it is too hot to have fun!” Adam panted, as though he was taken by the heat, the boy cackling in response. “I’ll go, and fight, and then we will come back with gifts.”

“I am going to miss you, papo.”

“I am going to miss you too, Damrot…” Adam leaned in, planting a kiss on the boy’s forehead, who nestled his head against his uncle’s chest.

As the children finished their play, Adam escorted them back home, in which their parents prepared their snacks, and Adam placed Damrot down, who returned back to Virot’s side, the girl having been in the middle of bullying the pair of demons.

Adam stared down at the children, and as he thought of Damrot’s kind words, his heart pulsed. That evening, under the purple sky, he stared at the trees before him, throwing out light punches, and even lighter kicks.

His grandmother’s arms and legs blurred, the woman leaping all over the place, revealing her way of fighting, which exhausted her swiftly, but it was the kind of fighting which exhausted her opponent’s heart greater. It was she who was called the Ascending Swallow, and it was that epithet which brought such great fury, different than the likes of the Mad Dog.

Then there was Adam. Crazy Father. He was less of a swallow, of a dog, and more of a father.

“Falcon Landing!” Mulrot exclaimed, as she leapt and kicked towards Adam, who threw his head back, and his foot forward, only pressing his weight onto one foot. “Falcon Landing!”

Adam, having caught himself onto both feet, threw his head back, and his other foot forward, now standing on another foot. Mulrot continued to force the land elf to leap about, before he was forced to half spin through the air, and to plant his foot firmly into the ground, threatening to break his ankle, but the half elf continued to stomp into the earth properly.

“For one who does not enjoy learning to fight, you certainly take to the training well,” Mulrot accused.

“I am my daughter’s father after all,” Adam replied. “Besides, it’s not as though I don’t like it, it’s just that I want to learn it to make sure I can still fight even when I don’t have a weapon, or a shield, or even my armour.’

It had been a few months since Adam had begun to fight, and it had already granted him such great benefits. His eyes trailed to how much XP it required for him to take various techniques from the Monk Class.

‘I should have started training before…’ Adam cursed his foolishness.

Mulrot eyed up the half elf, hoping his thoughts wouldn’t consume him. It was these idle days which had caused the great wound in his heart to fester.

10

The winds of Twilight brought with them a bitterness. The children dressed in order to play with their various papos and kakos, ahms and ailas, and their cousins, as well as those who would call them Little Boss.

Adam, with his arms behind his back, his muscles straining lightly, remained captivated by his thoughts, his eyes upon his children, his mind elsewhere.

“Kaka…” Virot called.

Jirot’s thick fingers assisted her sister, for it was still difficult for the girl to button the collar near her neck, and as the children stepped back, they eyed up one another’s attire. They were each adorned in one of the Iyr’s styles, cut a touch wider than they would like, a touch shorter, and this time, they wore an asymmetrical colour, one that could hang out casually, but was often buttoned a little over one’s head, and the pattern of their family was embroidered in such a way that even as the collar cut down from their hearts, it still continued seamlessly.

However, the half elf watched the children go, and he swallowed the bitterness, for wasn’t he their father, and shouldn’t they spend time with him?

A boy lay on his blanket and stared towards the sky, taking in the expansive sight, and as he had promised, did not look towards the sun, which was behind the wall.

A shadow loomed over the boy.

“What’s wrong, my little Damrot?” Adam asked.

“Daddy is always gone…” Damrot finally said, his voice low, soft and sweet, as it always was, for the boy was soft and sweet.

“Daddy is working so hard, isn’t he?” Adam dropped down beside his nephew, who looked so much like his father, and as he blinked, looked so much like his mother. Adam’s eyes spotted the sadness upon the boy’s face, and yet, the boy did not speak up. Adam ran his fingers through Damrot’s hair, for the boy was so meek, and so polite, and he wondered how the boy was like his own sons, like Karot and Jarot, but then he supposed, since Damrot was his own son, wasn’t it right that he should behave this way?

Damrot let out a sigh, one too heavy for a boy his age.

“There is much we can do for your father upon his return, but rather than make him something, Damrot, do not forget, your father, he has yet to meet Borot, and Borot, he has never seen your father, but he has seen you. Until he returns, it is you, Damrot, who must be an elder brother, like a father, to your younger brother.”

Damrot blinked. The boy stood, clenching his fists, and upon his shoulders, he carried the burden of what it meant to be an elder brother, though, for he was his father’s son, such a burden was easy to carry. As he stepped forward, he floated into the air.

Adam stared down at the boy awkwardly, having realized, perhaps, Borot was a little too young for Damrot to play with him, and Damrot was too young to understand the softness required for a boy that was still only weeks old.

“Let us find some wood for an axe, and I will procure some ore, and then we can make an axe for your father.”

Damrot blinked. The boy’s eyes glistened.

“When your daddy comes back you can give it to him.”

“Okay!” Damrot smiled brightly. “Papo! I can make you an axe too?”

“Perhaps, although, why don’t you ask your daddy to make a few wooden ri-,” Adam began, only to recall why wooden rings were awkward to wear, wincing at the thought. “Why doesn’t he make some necklaces for us to wear, and then I can… ask the Enchanter to enchant them?”

Damrot flushed at Adam’s wink, and the two hugged tightly. Adam planted a firm kiss upon the boy’s forehead, who was so sweet, so tender, and he swept the boy away towards the nearby stockpiles so they could pick a wooden shaft they could form into an axe.

There were a great many who used the month to relax, and a great many who used the month to forge their bodies, and others to plan their matters for the next year.

Then there was Jurot.

His body, slick with sweat. His axe shuddering. His entire body screamed with a great ache.

Before him, it stood.

It wore a long cloak, dark as death, adorned in full plate of the deepest of blacks, upon the breastplate, treated with magical flames, the symbol of a skull. Within its hand, a sword. at its side rested a blade, ready and eager to be drawn.

“Too weak,” it said, its voice low, harsh.

Jurot glared at the figure before him, the figure who had spent almost an entire month beating him. The worst part was, he knew the swordplay, for it was the swordplay of his cousin, the swordplay of his mother’s family, the Geks, and yet, though he had spent his entire life seeing Dogek wield it, it was this figure who wielded it greater than even his granduncle, who was once one of the Ten Paragons.

Jurot had already understood who this figure was, but he did not think of such a thing, and he would never speak of it.

However, in the entire time they had fought, he had not even come close to forcing the being back. Indeed, for as there was a difference between it and Dogek, and Dogek and he, the gap between Jurot and it, it was beyond even the clouds.

Its sword blurred once more, and Jurot slipped into his rage, and once more, he spent most of his day unconscious.

Kitool stomped her foot into the earth, swinging her head back, throwing a foot forward, Falcon Landing, so the Iyr called it, and the beam of light missed her face.

The shackled being smiled politely. She was tall, handsome, eyes almost golden, as though a child of the Divine. Her wrist were shackled together, her ankles too, but she was still able to move them, and she tracked the young Iyrman with her finger once more.

“For one who worships Death, you certainly are afraid of it,” the angelic being teased, not for the first time, nor the last.

‘How am I meant to-,’ Kitool began and, once more, the angelic being’s finger glowed, this time threatening to completely obliterate the young Iyrman.