Adam spent the next couple of days relaxing, though he spent some time assisting the village with various tasks. He helped with cutting down trees, and moving items to and fro.
The villagers left him to his own business, with many sending awkward glances his way. Some of them had tried to come to him, but they had been stopped by others, who wisely reminded their compatriots of who Adam had come with.
Sir Harold seemed to demand quite some respect from the villagers, who didn’t dare to bother Adam.
Some villagers were also afraid or hesitant of dealing with the Iyrmen, but they left the Iyrmen be, who spent most of their time assisting the villagers with whatever task they required, including the most gruesome and disgusting tasks, like emptying the latrines.
The Iyrmen didn’t seem to mind Adam much, though they did view him as a rude and boastful young man, but they couldn’t blame him, as he was still young.
Omen: 3, 16
The world was white.
Snow continued to fall all around the small village, no longer brown and green, but pure white.
Adam looked around and smile, before touching the freezing snow. It was soft, and crumbled against his finger tips.
“Do you like the snow?” Sir Vonda asked, brushing her hand along it too.
“A little. It’s fun to play with, and there’s something romantic about it.”
“Yes,” she said, bowing her head. She smiled behind her scarf, gathering the snow together, forming a small ball, before pressing her thumbs into the centre, forming a small hole in the centre. She placed it down, and created more small snow objects.
“What are you doing?” Adam asked.
“It is an art,” she said. “We used to create a number of these objects and would place them down. Then we’d look at them from above to see what we had created.”
“Oh yeah?” Adam said, before looking up to find a vantage point, only to find a few familiar figures approaching.
The villagers eventually gathered around the centre of the village, where the returning Gryphons landed, with seven figures soon hopping off.
“What is the news?” an old woman asked.
“The Chief is dead,” Sir Harold said. “I buried him and spoke his last rites. The Iyrmen witnessed it.”
“What of Sir Gorold?”
Sir Harold bowed his head. “He was slain by a Chimera, but it has been dealt with.”
Whispers began to fill the village upon hearing that a Chimera had been spotted.
“It wasn’t close to the village,” Sir Harold assured. “I buried him too, and spoke his last rites.”
The Iyrmen nodded.
Sir Harold quickly left to check on the village to make sure everything was fine, though he knew that the Iyrmen would have dealt with any issues.
The other villagers quickly returned to their work, mourning silently. However, they could not allow the death of their Chief to sour their moods, as they had much work to do.
The Iyrmen had assisted the villagers in creating a large ditch outside around the perimeter of the village, as well as a second wall, which was still in the process of being built. It was more like a fence at the moment, but it wouldn’t take long for it to truly bloom into a beautiful wall which would protect them for generations.
“Welcome back,” Adam said, shaking Jurot’s forearm. “How was it?”
Jurot smiled. “It was a beautiful sight. I fought alongside Sir Merry against a Gryphon, and I watched as he slew a Chimera. He is truly a great warrior.”
“How great?”
“Greater than I thought,” Jurot admitted.
Adam smiled. “Well, that’s good news.”
Jurot nodded his head. “It is. Thank you, Adam, for allowing me to go.”
“You went because of your own ability. I didn’t allow you to do anything.” Adam pat the young Iyrman’s arm. “I need your help with something. Come on.”
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Jurot followed Adam back to Sarot and the other Iyrmen, who were currently taking a small break. However, as he approached, a villager approached him.
“Adam, right? Sir Harold has called for you.”
“Sir Harold?” Adam asked, exchanging a look with Jurot. “Well, I guess if the previous King’s Sword calls for you, you have to answer.”
Adam followed the villager back to the centre of the village, where Sir Harold was currently boiling a pot, with Sir Royce sitting beside him, cutting some fruit.
“I heard you wanted to speak with me?”
“Take a seat,” Sir Harold said.
Adam sat down opposite the pair, and Sir Harold poured him some tea, while Sir Royce placed down the platter of fruit he had made.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Adam said.
“Sir Gorold was strong enough to deal with the issue, but it was my folly not to notice that the Gryphon population had increased enough to threaten our people.” Sir Harold sipped his tea, sadly. “Even if he was an old man like me, he still had a few more years.”
“Baktu is a decent God,” Adam said. “I’m sure he’s looking after the Chief.”
Sir Harold nodded his head slowly. “You are close to the Iyrmen.”
“Much to their chagrin,” Adam joked.
“Have you thought about your favour?” Sir Harold asked.
“Yes,” Adam said. “I’ve had a few days to think about it, and I know what I want.”
“What is it?” Sir Harold asked, staring at the Half Elf.
Sir Royce leaned in, interested in hearing Adam’s favour. He promised Adam a favour to leave him, and though it was quite an expensive thing, his favour, it was also quite fun to be indebted to a crazy youth like Adam. After hearing all the rumours about this Half Elf, Royce wondered just how fun the favour would be.
“I’m going to save it.”
The pair of them stared at the Half Elf.
“You’re going to save the favour?” Sir Harold asked.
“Yeah,” Adam said. “I’m going to save it for when I really need it. The favour of the previous King’s Sword and the previous Knight of Death? I can’t waste it on anything petty.”
“What do you need to save our favours for?”
“If I have the favour of you two monsters, I could use it for something important. If my adorable little sister is in trouble, couldn’t I call for one of you to bail her out?” Adam asked.
“Your little sister?” Sir Royce asked.
“My adorable little sister, Lanarot. She’s just a baby now, so cute and chubby. She’s the cutest little baby in the whole world. Cutest In The Whole World.” Adam nodded his head, thinking about his younger sister.
The pair of older men shared a look between one another. They understood what Adam was really doing, trying to make it seem like his words were ridiculous and queer, solely to deflect from the fact that he now had some of the strongest people at his beck and call.
“There might come a time someone wants to start some bother with her because of me,” Adam said. “I know I’m not liked in this land, and I can’t allow anything to trouble her.”
“I didn’t realise you had a little sister,” Sir Harold said. “Is she an Iyrman?”
“Yeah,” Adam said. “Have you heard about her?”
“The Iyrmen, Jurot, spoke of her.”
“He did? What did he say?”
“She was the Cutest In The Whole World,” Sir Harold said. “That she will grow up big and strong, especially under your tutelage.”
Adam smiled, though felt his cheeks burn slightly. “Well, I guess that’s true. She may very well be the greatest warrior in this land because of us.”
“If that’s the case, then why do you need to save your favour for her?” Sir Harold asked.
“She might get into trouble in the future.”
“Trouble which even the Iyr can’t handle?” Sir Harold asked.
Adam remained silent for a long while. “Good point.” He crossed his arms and fell into thought. “Well, there may be a situation where the trouble is with the Nobility of Aldland, or another country. In which case, wouldn’t you two be quite useful?”
“The Iyr holds more sway than you realise,” Sir Harold said. “However, if you are willing to go that far, then you can save your favour for later. Though, if you wait too long, then we will pass before we can complete our favours to you.”
“Sure,” Adam replied. “I’m well aware of the dangers of putting it off.”
“Do you think I’ll keep my word?” Sir Royce asked. “I don’t really need to owe you a favour.”
“Then you only amounted to that much,” Adam said.
“I only amounted to what?”
Adam smiled. “If you can’t keep your word, then you aren’t someone I’m bothered about. The Iyr holds your name up to the level of the Great Elders, but if you only amount to that much, then I’ll do my best to sully your name.”
“I didn’t expect you to threaten me in front of my face,” Sir Royce said. “The Iyrmen are too far away to stop me this time.”
“Sir Harold is here,” Adam said. “Though that doesn’t matter to me whether you attack me or not. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to take the first couple of blows, and I can flee to my Granduncle.”
“Are you certain you have that capability?” Sir Royce asked, his fingers twitching.
“Are you sure you want to find out, old man?” Adam sipped his tea. “I don’t think even you’re so rude that you’ll attack a man who is drinking tea.”
“I was once known as the Knight of Death,” Sir Royce said. “Whether you’re drinking tea or taking a shit, I’ll kill you as I please.”
Adam laughed. “I’m sure Baktu appreciates your assistance, but you should know that Baktu and I have quite a special relationship too.”
Harold and Royce hadn’t expected Adam to claim something so brazen.
“A special relationship?” Harold asked.
Adam winked. “Enough about me. It’s quite alarming that so many magical weapons are coming to this small village.”
“There are dark tidings on the horizon,” Sir Harold said, simply. “We must be prepared to face it.”
‘Dark tidings?’ Adam thought, staring at pair.
Harold and Royce noted Adam’s pensive gaze, which looked past them to another time.
“Let’s hope that you can deal with those dark tidings,” Adam said, before placing down the cup of tea. “I should go.”
The curiosity within the pair of old men ate at them, but they left Adam be.
“Do you think he knows?” Royce asked.
“No,” Harold said. “He must be thinking about another matter.”
“Should we ask?”
“No,” Harold said.
“Why not?”
“He is the Son of Fate.” Harold, having spent some time researching about Adam through his conversations with Jurot, understood.
It was Adam who had affected him during his bouts.
“He seems dangerous,” Royce said.
“He is.”
“Do we kill him?”
“We shouldn’t tempt Fate.”
“Is it related to your dreams?” Royce asked, biting into some fruit.
“I don’t know.”