As the first rays of dawnval blanketed the land, forcing away the Chaos of the Twilight Month, the Iyr began the new year as it always did, with Iyrman efficiency.
The Chief sat within his gazebo, checking over his notes. Due to the imminent arrival of the Reavers, the Iyr was already so full of noise, from the farmers heading into the fields, to the larger number of warriors who took to their borders. Due to the expansion of the land during the Twilight Month, the Iyr was quick to claim their new land, though only those which did not break their original treaties, and did not fall out of their immediate reach.
“Just the hills?” Baztam asked.
“Just the hills,” Chief Iromin confirmed.
Baztam scratched his neck, against the month’s growth. The shorter Iyrman glanced aside, letting out a huff into the air.
“It is not like you to to be so loud when you pretend to be quiet,” Iromin said, scanning the words upon the page. “What is the matter?”
“You should have told him about his boy.”
Iromin’s eyes darted towards Baztam. “It is best to take it slowly.”
“Will he think of it that way?”
“He needed to spend the week resting,” Iromin stated firmly.
“The Orders?”
Iromin’s eyes returned back to the words, the words which informed him of the Order’s movements. “Order.”
“Ah. Order.”
“He will find out soon enough. Today, he should enjoy himself, since it is the first of the first.”
Baztam cracked his neck from side to side. “We should have killed them all when we had the chance.”
“The opportunities to kill the Aldish are endless.”
Baztam let out a low sigh, before standing up, bored of annoying the Chief. He hoisted his greatblade up over his shoulder, the jagged teeth edge, like shark teeth, threatening the world. Baztam sauntered his way out of the Great Elder’s estate, and for a moment he thought about annoying the other Great Elders, but since the year was already shaping up to be so full of death, he decided against it. ‘This year is chaotic enough without me.’
The cool air swept through the Iyr, from the Great Elders’ estates, all the way to the shared estates of the Main Iyr, those shared by the various families of the Iyr. While the wind swept through the mountain town of the Main Iyr, there was a greater whirlwind of Chaos that filled a particular estate.
“Pizza!” Jirot screamed, for only her lungs could scream so loudly on the first day of the year. “I want pizza! Daddy make pizza!”
“Jirot,” Vonda called, reaching out for the leaf eared girl, whose skin turned from green to red as she screamed and cried. “When your father returns, he will make you pizza, but today, I can make it.”
“No!” Jirot stood tall and defiant, already reaching most of her height at the age of four, barely coming up to her mother’s knee. She clenched her tiny green fists tight, her large amber eyes narrowing, her tears flowing freely as the rivers through the Iyr’s hills. “I want daddy’s pizza! Not your pizza! I want daddy’s pizza! Daddy!”
“Jirot…”
“No!” The girl pointed towards her mother with a threatening finger. “Mummy! I do not like you!”
Her twin brother’s brows shot up in alarm, his eyes darting towards their grandmother, who was already beginning to stand to deal with the girl.
Vonda frowned slightly, but did not take her daughter’s words to heart. Whatever pain it caused the woman, there was no doubt a greater pain swirling within the girl’s. Even as her little Jirot screamed and cried, the nearby adults, Iyrmen and Aldishmen alike, could only try to soothe the girl with their open hearts.
“Jirot,” Sonarot, her grandmother, called. Sonarot’s voice was sweet and gentle, not wanting to blame the girl for her outburst.
“Oh my, oh my,” called a voice, breaking through the tension. “Who is it that is bullying my poor wife?”
Jirot’s amber eyes darted towards the western archway, and from the shadows cast by the long walls of the shared estate, the four figures stepped within. Three were Iyrmen, their tattoos displayed proudly upon their foreheads, but the last, with his leaf shaped ears, wore a smirk across his lips.
Sonarot’s eyes darted towards the returning four, noting how her son’s face was not as gaunt or pale as she expected, before her eyes darted towards Adam, who continued to smirk, but there was a heaviness within it. ‘Did they return before the month’s end?’
“I should have expected it was you,” Adam said, flashing a wide smile, strained for only a moment from being gone for so long, though quickly filled with relief and joy upon finally stepping within the estate.
“Daddy!” Jirot cried before rushing over to tackle her father, who dropped to his knee to hoist the tiny green skinned Iyrman twins up, embracing them within his arms.
“Jirot! Jarot!” Adam exclaimed, feeling his heart rush with the warmth of joy, while he smothered his twins with his affection, the assault of kisses causing them to squeal. However, as he held them, he could feel the lining of their clothy against his hands, causing his heart to drop, before they quickly distracted his dark thoughts. “I missed you both so much!”
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“Daddy!” the pair cried with delight, clutching at his collar, threatening to never let go as they kissed his cheek, their pairs of double canines almost scratching his cheek.
“Brother Jurot! Brother Adam!” Lanarot squealed, the little girl squealing with delight, charging towards her brothers.
Jurot squatted down to lift his sister up, the girl as light as a feather as she swung upwards. The pair of Iyrmen nuzzled one another, before they embraced tight, the girl’s tiny arms wrapping around her brother’s thick neck.
“I missed you so much!” Lanarot cried aloud with excitement.
“I missed you too.” Jurot held the girl close within his strong arms, while Lanarot planted a firm kiss on his cheek, before rubbing her cheek against his.
‘They’re not here?’ Jaygak thought, her eyes darting around to find her younger brother and cousin. Fortunately for her, four little girls rushed up to her.
Kitool let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight fall from her shoulders, as her own sisters and cousins swarmed her too.
Adam could feel the weight of his twins, but noted one had grown much lighter than the other. His eyes darted to the plate of crisps, piled high and yet untouched, and he pulled back slightly, smiling at the pair. Their eyes met, but from his peripheral, Adam could see little Jarot’s magical pot.
The metal striking the stone floor began to fill the air as the limping form of the one armed Iyrman appeared, though it was the trio of horned, silver scaled Iyrmen which caught Adam’s attention, the trio’s tails each swaying from side to side with delight as they stared up at the half elf.
“I should have expected it when they began to rush away from even me,” the older one armed Iyrman grumbled. The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Did you make my greatdaughter cry, you brat?”
“I don’t have the courage to make my Jirot cry, isn’t that right?” Adam rubbed his cheek against the girl’s forehead, feeling the dried paint of the Rot family’s tattoo up against his cheek, before he placed the pair down, wiping their faces. “Jirot was just bullying mummy a little bit today, that’s all.”
“I did not!” Jirot retorted, while standing still for her father to wipe her tears clean, before she blew into the handkerchief, and the half elf began to cast his spell, froze, and then continued, realising the Twilight Month was over.
“Do you know how I know you’re my daughter?” Adam asked, while Jirot smiled wider. “It’s because I only have four jokes too, isn’t that right?”
“So silly,” Jirot confirmed.
“You don’t like mummy because…”
“I do not like mummy because I love mummy!” Jirot cackled, causing her twin brother to cackle too.
“Even though you were just joking, why did you cry?” Adam asked, brushing his daughter’s chubby cheek.
“Is all your fault daddy! You are gone all month and you did not make pizza!” Jirot huffed.
“Well, mummy could have made pizza for you too. Mummy makes the best food, it’s always so yummy.”
“Daddy…” Little Jarot’s ears drooped, the boy’s lower lip pouting.
“You see, daddy? Is all your fault! Papa Jarot is waiting all month and you do not make the pizza!”
“Eh?” Adam’s eyes darted to his son’s quickly, daring to hope. “You want to eat pizza?”
Little Jarot nodded shyly, but winced as his father quickly engulfed him into a tight embrace.
“If my son wants to eat pizza, I’m going to make so much pizza today!” Adam peppered the boy with countless kisses.
‘He wanted to eat pizza?’ the one armed Jarot thought, filling with shame. ‘Of course! Why else would my greatdaughter cause trouble?’
Vonda flushed a deep red. It suddenly made so much sense as to why the girl was always asking for her father and pizza. She reached up to cover her eyes, though all the other Iyrmen also shared her thoughts.
“Do you want to eat some crisps first?” Adam asked. “I’ll flavour them with my magic!”
Little Jarot shook his head, clutching his father’s shirt tight, resting his head against his father’s chest, while his sister mirrored him.
“Haha! Okay, but daddy’s going to eat some!”
Just like that, the storm known as Jirot ended.
“Hmm…” Adam stared down at the triplets, their silver hair falling down to their shoulders, neatly cut by their grandmother’s hand. He eyed up each of them, from their tiny little horns, to their silver scales down the sides and back of their necks, and their silver eyes which stared up at their father with such delight.
Konarot, the eldest of the trio, frowned upon realising what her father was doing. “Daddy.”
“Daddy?” Adam asked, feigning surprise. “Wait! Don’t tell me! This powerful glare! These adorable children! Standing so tall and proud! Who else could they be but my eldest?”
“Daddy…” Konarot pouted, but soon her father embraced her, swallowing them all with his affection.
“I almost didn’t recognise you because you all became so big!” Adam tried to hoist each of his triplets up, but pretended as though he couldn’t pick them up. “My my my! Why is it that I can’t pick you up?”
Jirot wiped her face with her hand, before glancing up towards her mother, as though she didn’t know what she was going to do with her father. “So troublesome.”
“So troublesome,” Vonda agreed, allowing her husband to greet his children before he greeted her. He could see it on his face, and upon his shoulders, the great stress which pinned him down. The shadow of their children’s deaths still weighed so heavily upon his shoulders. Vonda reached up for her amulet, feeling the ridges of the silver sun beneath the rose, denoting her title as a Ray of Life’s Rose.
While Vonda, a Priest of Life, stressed about how much death would follow her husband this year, the older Iyrman eyed up the four returning figures. He had sensed it first, but the others were also beginning to notice. There was something about the four which was different, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Kako! Your leg!” Jirot gasped. “What happened?”
“I hurt my leg during my training,” Jaygak replied.
“No! How you can be hurt? I heal you, okay?” The girl reached out her hands, straining as she willed her mighty powers to heal her aunt. “Is better now?”
“It feels a little better now,” Jaygak admitted, a small smile encroaching upon her lips. “Thank you.”
“How you can thank me?” Jirot asked. “You are my kako!”
Jaygak reached down to pinch the girl’s cheek gently, before sharing one of her peppers with the girl, who furrowed her brows. Deciding against bullying her niece, Jaygak replaced the pepper with a block of cheese, causing the girl to smile.
While the group began to exchange their gifts, for so many shared the same birthday on the first day of the year, an Elder approached the Great Elders’ estates, one in particular.
“The girl troubled us for a whole month to feed her brother pizza,” Elder Zijin, the Elder of these shared estates, informed.
“It is only the greatdaughter of the Mad Dog who could cause such trouble, but remain justified in causing such trouble,” Iromin joked, before scanning the piece of paper the Elder handed him. He signed the paper, before writing a letter, signing it and stamping it with his seal, handing both to the Elder. “In this matter, I will trust you to act freely.”
“Thank you, Chief Iromin.” Zijin had thought to ask, but decided not to rock the boat, especially with the Reavers upon the horizon.
Reavers.
Aldishmen.
Killing came easy to the Iyrmen, regardless of whether it was the mythical Reavers, or their longstanding allies, the Aldish.
However, when it came to the hearts of children, who was better than the fool of a father that caused as much of a mess as Jirot and the Mad Dog?
“Shall I inform him of the Order?” Elder Zijin asked, ready to leave.
“No. Let him enjoy the day. He will head to the business soon, and it will not be too late, even when they appear.”
“Okay.” Zijin left, allowing the Chief his fun. However, the Elder wrote within his book, making sure to prepare his own back up for the half elf, just in case.