Omen: 16, 16

“Adam, are you willing to fight for the Rot family?” Sonarot asked.

“Sure,” Adam replied, not thinking too much about the issue.

“Thank you,” Sonarot said. “The fight is scheduled for the evening, tonight.”

Adam frowned. “Damn. Alright.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Evening is when I play with Lanarot,” Adam said. “I did have something else I needed to deal with though, so I guess it’s not a big deal. Do you know where Elder Zijin is?”

“He should be at his estate,” Sonarot said.

Adam quickly left to try and find the Elder, heading into the Jin estate, seeing the family all around. “Yo,” Adam called.

“Son of Fate, what brings you here?” Lojin asked.

“Hey, I’m looking for Elder Zijin.”

“The Elder is in his estate,” Lojin replied.

“Oh. Is that somewhere else?”

Lojin chuckled, before motioning with an arm to the side. “He is within the estate at the centre.”

“Oh,” Adam said, heading into the centre of the nine estates, which was equally as large as the family estates. ‘So there’s one estate for the Elder who looks after what… thirty something families?’

Elder Zijin was reading a paper when he saw Adam. Adam glanced around to see there were a great many pots within the estate, and the garden was more like a field, though it was not in use during Nightval.

“Adam,” the Elder called. “Trouble?” He held the paper up for a moment, before remembering that Adam knew their tongue, so quickly hid it.

“I’m here for a favour,” Adam said.

“What favour is that?”

“Well…”

“That is all?” Zijin asked, sighing. “I thought you would ask for something troublesome.”

“Then what if I asked for double?” Adam asked.

“A simple matter.”

“What if I asked for a sword made of something amazing? The Iyr’s best materials?” Adam asked.

“If you win some fights, I am sure you can request such items,” Zijin said. “Perhaps not the best items, but a tier below.”

“I’m fighting today,” Adam said. “So maybe after the fight I could ask.”

“Then it is not so troublesome.”

“Damn,” Adam said, frowning. “I’ll go ask Jaygak for help.”

“It is fine,” Zijin said, yawning. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the pair of them together.

“Are you alright?”

“I am well. It is Twilight Month soon, and it is quite busy. It seems that this Twilight Month will be more difficult.”

“Is that bad?”

“It is good and bad.”

“How so?”

“You will see,” Zijin replied, smiling at the Half Elf.

Adam sighed, before turning on his heel and leaving. ‘Seriously.’

Adam returned back to the Rot family, where he found a familiar face. “Wahruv? What are you doing here?”

“I am here to fight,” Wahruv said, shaking Adam’s forearm.

“Again?” Adam groaned. “I don’t want to fight you again.”

“No, I have come for your brother this time,” the Iyrman said. “He, too, is an Expert.”

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“He’s strong, you know,” Adam said. “You shouldn’t hold back against him.”

“If he is your brother, it is certain for him to be strong,” Wahruv replied.

“That’s right. Which is why Lanarot will grow up to be a super Expert.” Adam pinched the girl’s cheek gently, causing her to pull away from him, and return to her block of wood.

“The fight will be in an hour, will you come and watch?” Wahruv asked.

“Of course,” Adam said. “Since it’s my brother’s fight, I have to watch.”

“Then I will see you then,” Wahruv said.

“What do you think?” Adam asked. “They’re both pretty strong.”

“It will be quite the match,” Sonarot said. “I will believe in my Jurot.”

“I’ll go get my gems,” Adam said.

The Rot family, save for Mirot, went to go and watch the fight. There Adam saw Jarot, who was bandaged up, his skin marked red as though he had been burned.

“You look like shi-“ Adam began, only to see Churot and the others. “You look awful.”

“I had some fun last night,” Jarot said.

“You’re too old to be having that kind of fun,” Adam admonished.

“We are never too old to have fun, Adam,” Jarot stated.

“Did you win?” Adam asked.

“No.”

Adam let out a soft sigh, smirking at the old man. “You should leave it to Grandaunt Mulrot, since you’re so weak.”

“You can call me weak once you beat me,” Jarot replied, simply.

“I made an axe to deal with you, did you forget?”

“I want to have a taste of the axe you made to face me,” Jarot said. “I wonder if it is good enough to take me down.”

“Don’t be in such a rush to die, old man,” Adam said.

Churot frowned, glaring at Adam.

“I mean,” Adam said, clearing his throat. “We’re not here to fight, but to watch someone else fight. You brought the coin?”

“I have,” Jarot said. “A hundred gold. Did you bring any coin?”

“No,” Adam said.

“Do you have no faith in your brother?” Jarot asked.

“I brought gems,” Adam said. “Coins are awkward to carry.”

Jarot laughed. “Did you plan that little joke?”

“No, I’m just that witty.”

Jarot slapped the boy across his arm. “You have to be at least that funny to be my grandson!”

“Whose your grandson, old man?” Adam rubbed his arm gently.

Soon the entire area was full of Iyrmen, who were sharing food and drinks, save for a handful of people who were set to fight later. Jurot appeared, with Flaming Sanguine in hand.

“Yo,” Adam said, shaking his forearm. “Our baby sister is watching so you can’t lose.”

Jurot nodded.

“I will bet one hundred gold on my grandson!” Jarot declared. “What say you, Lahruv?”

“I will match the bet,” Lahruv replied, an older woman who wore her scars like jewellery, revealing most of the scars she had gained.

‘Does the cold not bother her?’ Adam thought, seeing that she was wearing mostly a pair of shorts and a sash around her torso, and not much else.

“Where is your betting spirit, Adam?” Wahruv called from nearby. He, too, held a magical blade in hand. “Are you wishing to bet a greater weapon again?”

“I was denied it once already,” Adam replied, feigning a pout. “I suppose one hundred gold and one copper coin will be enough.”

“A copper coin too?”

“I believe in my brother just that much,” Adam said, throwing Jarot a side eye.

Jarot held in a snicker, though it was quite painful, what with all the burns over his body. ‘I cannot even enjoy the fight without grimacing? I should have fought harder.’

“Then let us make it just a copper,” Wahruv said. “A copper worth more than one hundred gold.”

“Lanarot, come kiss your papa,” Sonarot said, raising her up to Jurot’s cheek. Lanarot pressed her lips against Jurot’s cheek, before sucking on her block. Sonarot also kissed her son’s forehead. “Fight well, my Jurot.”

“Yes, mother,” Jurot replied. He caught Adam’s eyes, and the pair nodded to one another.

The low drumming which had been a part of the Iyr’s background, suddenly increased, causing Lanarot to twitch and look around to try and find the source. The flutes were played with ever increasing intensity, before they stopped, and the drumming turned quiet once more.

Wahruv and Jurot stood opposite one another for a long moment, near silence between them. The betting had long finished. Those who were drinking and eating finished their bites for that moment.

The pair turned red together, leaping into action. The pair managed to force each other back, the battle following the motion of a pendulum as Wahruv and Jurot both struck true, with the snow beneath them turning red.

Jurot brought up his magical shield, and though he was struck, he did not wish to use the magic of the shield against Wahruv. The blow was heavy, and caused his shoulder to shudder.

Wahruv, full of rage, forced Jurot back, striking true once more, as Jurot’s side was cut, though the blade did not find as much purchase as it should have. Jurot, was still a member of the Rot family, so even the flames which licked at him did not bother him as much.

Flaming Sanguine managed to burn Wahruv’s cheek, the Iyrman pulling back to avoid losing his eyes, and the pair clashed together once more, magical steel against magical steel, which struck a note to add to the music which had picked up.

Lanarot threw up her arms joyfully, squealing as she watched the fights, clapping her hands, and dropping her block.

Jurot, hearing the squeals, was filled with renewed vigour, charging forward. ‘I do not want to lose in front of mother.’ His eyes were focused with rage as he struck Wahruv’s side, cutting an inch into the man’s side.

“You fight well,” Wahruv grunted through gritted teeth. His blade was raised high above him, but it crashed down against Jurot’s shield, but the blow caused Jurot’s shoulder to shudder once more.

The pair met steel with steel, and as they danced, it was becoming harder to find who would win. Wahruv, who was firmly an Expert and had been for years, against the young man who had become an Expert within a year.

Wahruv, with greatsword in both hands, swung wildly, and Jurot caught the blow with his shield. He skid back to a halt, and as he charged forward to meet Wahruv’s blade, he saw the shadow of the blade above him. His axe managed to clip the man’s side once more, but the giant blade came upon him the same way that Sir Merry’s sword had fallen atop him.

Jurot dropped to his knees, unable to raise his shield and axe.

Adam held his breath. ‘Damn.’

Lanarot screeched with joy as the fight ended.

“Oi,” Adam said, pinching her cheek. “You didn’t kiss him properly and so he lost.”

Lanarot looked up at Adam, her gaze full of innocence.

“Don’t try that with me,” Adam grumbled.

“Do not forget the copper,” Wahruv panted.