“What a day to be alive!” Jurot exclaimed, sitting down on a large rock.
“You can say that again,” Adam said, chuckling.
“What a day to be alive!” Jurot repeated, and Adam threw him a look.
“I didn’t mean it literally!” Adam punched Jurot across his arm and shook his head.
“How are we splitting the loot?” Jurot asked.
“Fifty-fifty.”
“Very well.” Jurot extended out a hand and then shook Adam’s forearm.
“Man a herbearvore, huh?” Adam said. “Now that’s a payday.” He whistled.
“What are you spending your gold on?” Jurot asked, raising his brow.
“I’m probably going to ask Joitin to make me some clothes.”
“She makes wonderful clothes,” Jurot said. “One day she will make me my fighting clothes, so I may guide my father home.”
Adam reached out and placed a hand on Jurot’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I hope I’m there to see it.”
“I will take you to the Iyr one day,” he said. “There you will meet my family, my mother, my aunt, my uncle, and my cousins.”
“Lanarot as well, right?”
“Yes,” Jurot said with a smile. “My sister.”
Adam felt a pang of guilt as his friend smiled. ‘No, don’t go back there, don’t do it.’ He forced the thoughts away. That was another time, another place. He pushed the memory away from his mind, forgetting all about it as he thrust it into a box and locked it. He hoped he’d never open it again.
The pair finished up their drinks in the pub and then stepped out, heading along the pathway to the bakery.
“Are we going to leave it quickly this time?” Adam asked. “Your flirting takes too long.” Jurot would spend so long eating the bread and talking about how delicious it was to the baker’s girl.
“You are too civilised,” Jurot said. “There will come a time when you will appreciate a woman’s form, perhaps when you meet Entalia.”
Adam punched Jurot’s shoulder, chuckling as they trekked through the forest. They came across a herbearvore and Adam cracked his neck. He pulled out his wizard’s die, grabbing his blade in the other hand.
“I’ll deal with this,” Adam said as he called down a large meteor from the heavens. It fell upon the herbearvore, the flames engulfing the creature as it fell, turning to ash.
“They are weak to such attacks,” Jurot said, nodding his head. He was smiling as he sat on the rock, overlooking the desert.
“Well, it does make sense. Herbearvore, fire, probably should have thought about it.” Adam laughed.
“That’s the problem. You think so much and know so little.” Jurot shrugged.
“Wiser words had never been spoken,” Adam said with a chuckle. Perhaps Jurot had a point. He did have a tendency to think far too much and not actually do anything about it.
Adam sat down beside Jurot on the rock and then pulled up his blade to look at it. It was made of mithril, smithed by he and Thunderhammer, enchanted with the greatest of enchantments. He had the bloodthirst ability enchanted in it, as well as the ability to bring himself back from death a single time. It had proved him useful when they fought those undead near London.
He recalled the fight. ‘Man, that was one hell of a day.” He remembered how White-Tooth held the fort, taking on as many of the undead as he could. Bobby was there too, though he drowned in the sea of ale a month later and that’s what he was known for. Silly Bobby, what a guy.
“I was thinking about crafting Lanarot a sword,” Adam said.
“A sword? We of the Rot use axes, no offence.”
“None taken.” Adam laughed, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll make an axe then.” He wasn’t going to tell the family of Rot to not use axes, especially not Jurot’s sister he had never met.
“Do you want to smith it in the volcano?” Jurot asked. “We could head to it now.”
“Oh no, I’ll just use this.” Adam reached up a hand and then summoned a giant mass of flames from the heavens, and he hammered into the steel ahead of him, forming it into shape. He formed the axehead fairly quickly, whispering the words to a particular song he was fond of. “Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head?” He continued to sing as he smithed the axe. “I hit the sack, I’ve been too long, I’m glad to be back.”
He lifted up the axe, staring into the bright steel. Mithril, the greatest of all metals, he wished he had a mithril sword. He started laughing as he held the blade in hand, feeling the heat through his hands.
“Jurot! Jurot, look!”
“I see it Adam,” Jurot said with a nod of his head. “A beautiful wyrm.”
Adam stared at the wyvern so far away, it’s scales were like sand, though as though a shadow was cast over it. Adam smiled and the pair leapt up, facing it in combat. Adam’s blade struck against the hard metal, tearing into it, though he felt it strike his side, before he managed to finally defeat it. He panted out and then sat down beside Jurot.
“Your beard looks so stupid,” Adam laughed, reaching over to it.
Jurot had grown the beard after they had faced that mage together, all that time ago. Jurot wanted to impress the baker when they returned, he had so much to offer her for marriage. He wasn’t sure how Iyrmen did marriage.
“Your face is stupid,” Jurot said as he dropped down ahead of Adam, sitting on the cloud with him.
“I can’t believe we’re retiring soon,” Adam said, looking down at his armour. His armour was the colour of sand, though a little darker as though a shadow had been cast over it, from the very same wyrm they had defeated all that time ago.
“It is time, we’ve done all we could.” Jurot looked out into the distance.
“Do you want to go and bring your father back?” Adam asked as he looked beyond, over the snowscape. His white armour was made from the children of Vezaryl the pair had defeated together.
“Let’s do so,” Jurot said as he reached out for Adam’s hand. Adam took it, and the pair went through the various worlds together, the cacophony of colours swirling all about them as Adam laughed, almost choking on his laughter.
Jurot was there, cutting into all manner of bears, slaying each and every one before he killed the final manticore. Jurot raised his axe, the same axe Adam had made in the flames all those years ago for his sister.
“You guided him back,” Adam said.
“All thanks to you,” Jurot said with a long smile.
“So, retiring?” Adam said.
“I think so…”
“Did you know you had a sister?”
“Me? A sister?” Jurot asked, surprised.
“Yeah, her name’s Lanarot.”
“I have a sister,” Jurot whispered.
“I have a sister too,” Adam said.
“Oh? What’s her name.”
“Adamina.”
Jurot stared at Adam. He then let out a long laugh, a laugh filled with joy and life. Tears flowed down Jurot’s face in utter joy as he gasped for air, and then he sat there, clutching his stomach.
“I am glad we are friends, Adam.”
“I’m glad we’re mates too,” Adam said as he shook Jurot’s forearm. There was a pang of sadness and guilt, but he had forgot about that long ago. “You know, I had a life before this one.”
“You did?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I had a brother and sister, a mother and father.”
“Oh wow…” Jurot whispered. “I didn’t know that.”
“I know… I’m sorry for not telling you.”
“It’s alright,” Jurot said as he pat Adam’s shoulder. “We’re friends after all.”
“Best friends?” Adam asked.
“The best of friends.”
“If I die, would you guide me home? I want to see my sister, I’ve never seen her.” Adam thought about Hannah, the sister he had never known.
“I will, I’ll guide you home, as you did for my father,” Jurot said, extending a hand.
“I appreciate that.” Adam felt it again, the pang of guilt. ‘No,’ his mind told him, ‘get away!’ Adam frowned. “You know Jurot, I’m… I think I want to go home.”
“Should we head to the Iyr first? I haven’t been back since I left, and I’d like for you to meet my family.”
“Could we head to my home first?” Adam asked.
“Let’s go,” Jurot said. “I heard the corner shop nearby closed down.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“Yeah, it did. It really sucked, I used to buy penny sweets.”
“Were they any good?”
Adam scoffed. “They were the best,” Adam said as he offered Jurot some prawn cocktail crisps.
“I like cheese and onion more,” Jurot said as he crunched into the crisps.
“Yeah, they’re nice too, but I just love prawn cocktail crisps.”
“Want a shortbread biscuit?”
“Don’t be silly, I haven’t invented them yet.”
“Fine, I’ll dip them in my own tea.”
“Did you put in some sugar?”
“Of course.”
“Did you microwave the tea?” Adam asked.
Jurot remained silent, eating his biscuits. Adam offered Jurot a sandwich, made of cheddar and prawn cocktail crisps inside two pieces of white bread, spread with margarine of course.
“I used to eat these all the time whenever I went on trips,” Adam said, remembering the time he lost his teacher in the crowd. He went on a ride and got all wet, he was entirely soaked. His mother had given him quite the talking to.
“Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Adam asked.
“Are you going to marry Entalia yet?” Jurot smirked.
“You mean Lazina?”
“Whose Lazina?” Jurot asked.
“She was there, she sang those songs.”
“At my wedding?” Jurot asked.
“That’s the one.”
“She had the bear scars over her face, right?”
Adam thought for a moment. “I thought that was Emma.”
“No, Emma is the cute guild worker you had a crush on.”
“Shut up, don’t tell her that!” Adam punched his arm and then looked to Emma, who raised her eyebrow at him. “Nothing,” Adam said.
“You and your love for red-heads,” Jurot chuckled. “Are you excited to get home?” Jurot asked as they walked along the path.
On the top of the hill Adam could see the terraced house, which currently wasn’t really attached to anything. He saw the white plaster paint across his house, the double glazed windows, the door at the front. It was white, with golden handles and letterbox. He smiled as he stepped up towards it.
“Adam!” Alten exclaimed, screaming out.
“What?” Adam turned and then looked behind himself. There was nothing, just the path to the Iyr.
“What?” Jurot asked.
“I heard Alten,” he said. He looked around. He was certain he heard Alten’s voice, filled with terror, fear, the same fear he had instilled all that time ago. It was so… real.
“Alten? You killed him.” Jurot raised his brows.
“Oh yeah, I did. After our third duel…” Adam shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts.
“Are you having those dreams again?” Jurot asked.
“Dreams?” Adam looked to Jurot, seeing the bear marks all over his body, his skin so pale. “Jurot, you know I don’t dream.”
“You killed Alten, and now you dream of him.”
“Jurot, I don’t dream.” Adam stared at Jurot, looking at those bear marks all over his skin.
Then he heard it, the sounds…
The unforgettable sound of a mother mourning assaulted him from behind, and Adam dared not to look behind him. He continued to look up at Jurot, unable to see his face properly.
He opened the box.
“Jurot,” Adam called.
“Yeah?”
“You’re dead.” He remembered that Jurot had died.
“I’m not dead. I’m alive. We killed those bears, remember?”
Adam squinted his eyes. He tried to look at Jurot’s unbearded face, trying to make it out. “Jurot… you’re dead.”
“I’m not dead, you guided me home.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I did. I guided you home, because you died.”
“I’m like my father, I’ll never die.”
“Everyone dies,” Adam said. “Just like you.”
“I think you need to calm down, I don’t want to die.” Jurot raised a hand, though to stop Adam from coming closer.
“Yes you do,” Adam said. “It’s a great honour to die, your story will be told for generations.” Adam reached up and clutched his head, coughing. He felt a sharp pain in his gut and he cried out.
“My story? I’m dead, how can I hear it?”
“Your sister, Lanarot… she’ll hear it when she grows up.” Adam shook his head. Lanarot, Jurot’s sister, a baby.
“My sister? I don’t have a sister.”
“Yes you do,” Adam said as he winced. “Blood,” he said, looking down as his hand, which was covered in hot crimson. “I remember it… it was so bloody.”
“It was?”
“Yeah.”
“First time?”
“Yeah.”
Adam stared into Jurot’s eyes. “I’m sorry I let you die,” he said, blinking through the tears.
“Is my sister… is she healthy?” Jurot asked as he sat down on the rock.
“I think so.” Adam tried to recall.
Jurot stared at Adam for a long time. “Will you look after her for me?”
Adam stared at Jurot’s face, unable to really see it properly still. “I will.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.” Adam extended a hand. Jurot grabbed it and they shook hands, though it felt… ghostly.
“We should get you home,” Jurot said.
“Jurot.”
“Yes?”
“You’re dead, you can’t take me home.”
“Oh right… I’m dead.”
“Your mother is safe,” Adam said.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s alright, I think.” Adam recalled her crying in the night, all that time ago. She had invited her to his home, for any friend of Jurot was welcome in her home. Tears burned in his eyes.
“Adam…”
“Yeah?” Adam replied.
“I think I’m dead.”
“Yeah,” the half-elf said, “you are.”
Jurot stared down at the floor. He looked up at Adam. Adam tried to catch his eyes, trying to see into the darkness, but he couldn’t make out Jurot’s face, not after all this time.
Adam looked behind him, seeing the flames. He reached into them and embraced them as he had when he guided Jurot home. ‘This is a dream.’ He then turned back to look at Jurot. ‘No… not a dream. Something else…’
“Jurot,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I let you die.”
“It’s alright,” Jurot said.
“I promise… I’ll look after your sister, like she was my own.”
“I’m glad we’re friends,” Jurot said.
“Best friends.”
Jurot nodded.
Adam reached for his sword and drew it. “Now who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Jurot of the Iyr,” he said, as he did the first time they had met.
“No,” Adam said. “Jurot, he’s dead.” Adam stepped forward. “Who the fuck are you?”
Jurot’s face darkened. “Who the fuck are you?” the stranger said, in a voice that was different, but each of the voices were different, none of them had been Jurot.
Jurot grabbed his axe and shield, and Adam charged at the shadow ahead of him. The moment he stepped into it, everything turned black. No, not black. Black and purple, he just couldn’t see the purple, but he could feel it. Then he heard it, the pulse, feeling it go through his body. Then he felt it, the breath against his skin.
In this blackness, this void, he was not alone.
“Who the fuck are you?” Adam asked.
There was a screaming that racked through his entire mind, causing him to shake and convulse wildly as the pain filled him. Adam screamed as the pain tore through his insides, as though he had fallen into a shredder of pain.
Then he heard it.
“You,” it said, reverberating through his mind, rocking Adam to his core. “You are a creature of grand design.”
No, it wasn’t quite what it said. It didn’t speak, it communicated deep within his mind, with concepts that then formed words for his mortal mind to comprehend.
“Who are you?!” Adam exclaimed, trying to slash into the air, but there was nothing there, there was no him, no sword, just this creature in the black-purple space.
He felt the breath against his face, and then he realised it was there. It was right there, both miles and inches away from him. The breath tickled against him repeatedly.
“I am…” it said, and then went to think about the philosophical implication of his question. “I am.” It spoke true, as though that was all it needed.
Adam twitched in pain as the translation filled his mind. He gasped for air, but there was nothing, he did not need air here and there was no air to be had.
“What are you doing here?”
“I have come to claim my prize,” it said.
“Your prize?” Adam said, blood pouring down his nose, though he couldn’t really feel it.
“You are… something beyond what I have ever seen… you are of another’s design, familiar to me as the son of Adam, and yet…”
“I’m Adam,” he said.
“I know,” it said. “I speak of he, Adam, from before.”
“You don’t make any sense.”
“That is so, for you are of a mortal mind.”
“What are you?”
“I am beyond. Beyond you. Beyond it all.”
“I’ll kill you,” Adam snarled. “I’ll kill you! How dare you!” Adam tried to reach for his sword, but there was no sword. No, there was a sword, and he was attacking, but it wasn’t it. “How dare you send me to this world! How dare you show me Jurot, you bastard!”
“Your time has come,” it said as it opened its maw, the hot breath covering the non-existent boy.
Adam screamed out as the terror filled his entire core as it tried to consume him whole.
“No! No! I don’t want to die! Damn it! Let me go!” He struggled, against his chain mail, trying to stop himself from moving from wherever he was.
“No! No!” Adam exclaimed.
Then he saw the opening of a flat cap in front of his face. He stared at it and then followed the hand along to see a face. Skin of liquid platinum, veins of gold, eyes that held the unearthly wisdom, filled with all sorts of colours like a pool of every gem. The divine being looked so familiar, and yet Adam couldn’t place it.
The divine being bowed his head, or he supposed, their head. No, wait. That powerful jaw that seemed to be chiselled out of marble, the thick, heavy stash made from silver that was waxed as though they were from the last century.
“It was an unfortunate circumstance,” the divine being said, with a voice that would put any singer to shame, the baritone and deepness of it felt as deep as any ocean Adam had ever seen.
“Belle,” Adam whispered.
Belle bowed his head. He turned to look at the creature, whatever it was. “You should play with your own toys,” he said. Then Belle slapped Adam with the hat, and then he was flying through colours, no longer where he once was, the colours keeping away the black-purple darkness.
“I take my eye off you for one,” Belle paused, as though trying to understand the concept of time, “month, and you go ahead and get yourself in this kind of trouble?”
“What was that?” Adam asked, panting for air as it filled his… no, he didn’t have a body even now.
“A consequence of my action,” Belle said as they moved through space, time, and fate.
“What do you mean?”
“Every consequence has its actions, yours, mine, everyone’s.”
“That doesn’t explain anything!”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
“What… why is that thing here?” Adam asked, still trying to gather his bearings.
“That was the price to allow you into the world.”
“Why would you let me live if you would bring that horror forward?!” Adam exclaimed.
“I just thought that it would be…” Belle turned to face him, flashing the most innocent smile Adam had ever seen, “chaotic.” He slapped Adam with the cap once more, and he was swallowed into the hole once more.
The colours swirled and Adam stumbled back into the world. He was holding his sword, which stopped inches ahead of Robert’s throat.
“Robert?” Adam asked.
Robert stared up at Adam, his skin covered in burn marks, blood pooling around him. “Adam,” he coughed in pain.
“What happened to you?” Adam asked as the roaring storm around him continued. He looked down to see Robert cutting into a dark tentacle, which pulled away from Adam and dropped. Then he looked aside to see Alten on the ground, bleeding out, right next to his boot.
Adam’s body grew cold with panic, standing there frozen as he tried to think. Adam reached up to his amulet, but he snatched the air. He looked down to see he was bleeding through his chain, which had been pierced through. Yet, he couldn’t feel pain, just the hotness of crimson, which was no longer slipping out of his body.
“Alten, wake up!” Adam exclaimed, trying to will the magic through his finger tips, but nothing happened. “Alten?” Adam dropped down over to the fallen boy, looking down at his die, which he clutched in one hand.
Omen
4, 12
That was good enough. Adam willed forth fate to try and patch up Alten as best as he could as Robert dragged himself onto his feet.
Medicine
12 + 5 = 17
Omen
4, 12 -> 4
Adam tore some cloth from the boy’s clothing and then wrapped it around his wound, just to stop Alten from bleeding out.
There was the sound of a roar, a beautiful roar, as thrashing filled the nearby area. Now with his wits about himself, Adam looked aside to see the Iyrmen and minotaurs in battle. Adam heard Rendor cry out, glancing over to see one minotaur had fallen, and that there were more Iyrmen. No… they weren’t Iyrmen.
With tendrils of black and purple spurting out like tumours, these Iyrmen were no more. He recognised them as those that Rendor had fought alongside. Adam could see the pain in Rendor’s eyes, the man clutching his fists ahead of himself, ready to brawl, even if his eyes said otherwise.
Then the roaring echoed through the entire forest as a blur of silver filled the area as the giant figure crashed past some trees, the trees splintering like they were tooth picks under the form, yet Adam couldn’t quite make out what it was.
“Retreat!” called a voice, and Adam snapped to see Asomin. “We have found the obelisk! Retreat!”
Adam was utterly shocked. An Iyrman calling for retreat?
“What the hell is going on?” he whispered.
The silver form thrashed, its tail crashing and swiping against a swath of trees, before the giant dragon turned to face the Iyrmen. It turned into a human, no, not a human, an elf. Entalia stumbled her way before the Iyrmen began to retreat.
“She’s a dragon?” Adam asked as he looked about, looking to the Iyrmen.
Robert grunted in pain as he tried to lift Alten. Adam hoisted Alten over his shoulders, and then began to carry the unconscious man out.
“She’s a dragon?!” Adam shouted, mostly to himself.
“Of course she’s a dragon!” Heinov replied, running past him and then tackling Rendor down. “Come Rendor!”
“I can’t!” Rendor exclaimed, reaching out to the other Iyrmen, who then dropped down as the slimy tentacles dropped and shrivelled into nothingness. The black-purpleness of the forest began to seep away. “We must retrieve the bodies!” Rendor held out his hand, reaching for the bodies.
“You must come with us to guide them home! There’s nothing here if you die now!” Heinov dragged Rendor, who eventually gave in, letting himself be dragged by the gold ranked adventurer, who was much stronger than he.
Adam looked at Robert. “Did you know she was a fucking dragon?”
“No,” Robert replied as he stumbled away.
“Jesus Christ.”