Omen: 7, 16

Adam stared up at the huge walls of the Iyr, which looked to be the same, though what lay beyond was still left to Adam’s imagination.

Lady Shamia and Tariel stared up at the walls, the gate, and the statues. Tariel tapped the single word, and Shamia nodded.

“We have returned,” Jurot shouted, before the Iyrman above confirmed the situation, and the gates were forced open by the nearby Iyrmen’s might.

“Do they always force the gates open the hard way?” Shamia asked.

“Would you have it any other way?” Adam joked. “From what I have seen, yeah, they always do it this way.”

Shamia understood why the Iyrmen had held such a great reputation for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

As the gates opened, Adam sighed, seeing that the Iyr was exactly as he had left it. There was a swarm of children which made their way to him, but Adam raised his hand to stop them.

“Form an orderly queue!” Adam declared, causing the children to stare up at him.

The One Who Queues.

That was what the children had called him. Some of them had been here the last time he had returned and made them queue, whilst others had only heard rumours of the Half Elf who made them queue for their prizes, but he also brought with him the best prizes.

Adam and the Iyrmen gave the queueing children a manner of trinkets, from small clay cups, to strips of cloth, to bits and bobs from the various creatures they had slain.

The adult Iyrmen glanced over to see what they were up to, but seeing that everything seemed fine, they left the matter be.

Once the children had received their souvenirs, they quickly scattered away to talk to one another about what they had managed to procure from those who had returned.

Adam’s face held the widest of grins as they made their way through the Iyr. ‘The Iyr is truly the best place.’

“We have returned,” Jurot said, having stepped into one of the archways to their shared family estate.

The children all looked back, stuffing their mouths with food, before seeing their siblings and cousins had returned. They swiftly charged their returned family.

“Welcome home,” Turot said, approaching both Jurot and Adam, his eyes beaming up at them.

“Have you been a good boy?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

Adam smiled, ruffling his hair. “Of course.”

“You have returned, Cousin Adam,” Katool said, reaching up to grab his sleeve.

“That’s right. We’ve all brought such great gifts, and some Guests too,” Adam said. “This is Lady Shamia, of Clan Waterveil.”

The adults perked up at the name, having heard the name previously from the Iyrmen’s adventure the year prior.

“This is Star Tariel,” Adam said, motioning to Tariel.

‘What is she doing here?’

The adult Iyrmen all wondered what a Druid was doing in the Iyr, especially since she had come to them, and not Elder Shaman or a Great Elder.

Of course, it was such a silly though, as they recalled who it was that introduced them.

“Welcome,” Sonarot said, approaching the Guests. “You are welcome within our home, Lady Shamia, Star Tariel.”

“I apologise for intruding.”

Yes. Sorry.

There came a gentle squeal from nearby, as Lanarot looked up to see her two papas had returned.

“Go on,” Adam said, elbowing Jurot. “You pick her up first so I can pick her up for longer.”

Jurot lifted his sister up, whose mouth was covered in saliva and breadcrumbs. She bounced excitedly, laughing up at him. He stared at her for a long while, before pulling her into a hug, the way he always did. The girl melted up against her brother, falling quiet. Her breath tickled his neck, and he felt how hot she was, and how hard her heartbeat drummed within her tiny chest.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

‘I forgot this guy is Trained in hugging,’ Adam thought, annoyed. ‘How am I meant to follow up to that?’

Eventually, Jurot surrendered Lanarot to Adam. “Look at you, you cheeky little girl.” Adam wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Oof. Someone’s such a chubby girl. Have they been feeding you all my bread?”

Lanarot squealed and giggled, laughing up at him as she stared into his eyes.

“Did Lanablobby miss me?” Adam asked, kissing her nose.

She squealed again, clapping her hands excitedly, before sucking on her hand in shy joy.

Adam rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Oh, Lanababy.” He spent a long moment holding her silently. She was warm to the touch, as always, and smelled of bread. She cooed quietly, before squirming in his arms so she could look back up at his face.

Adam’s heart felt so light, and his worries faded away. “Papa is back.”

“Papa,” she said, smiling wide.

“That’s right! I’ve brought you so many gifts too, Lanababy.” Adam kissed her face all over.

Shamia sat beside Sonarot. “I am glad to finally meet you. Your son has saved me twice now.”

Sonarot pet Jurot’s head as he sat beside his mother, while the bodyguards took their position nearby. Their weapons had been placed into their bags, out of respect for the Iyrmen, though they could still fight well enough with their gauntleted fists.

“Come, Wazool,” Citool called, calling the boy they had picked up. “Did you have fun on your adventure outside?”

“Yes…” Wazool sat down beside Citool. He continued to wear the ring which had hidden the colour of his eyes.

“Wazool?” Katool asked, staring at the boy.

“It is your cousin, Katool,” Citool informed her daughter.

“Hello,” the girl said.

“Hello.”

“I Katool, daughter of Citool.” The girl puffed out her chest.

“I am Wazool,” the boy replied, refusing to say he was the son of Ikool.

“He is your cousin,” Citool repeated to Katool, looking to Raool and Ikool, who shared a knowing look. They had heard from Elder Lykan that the boy had refused to say he was their son, and so they would adopt him as their nephew.

“Hello,” Taygak said to the boy, before they all introduced themselves to him.

Eventually, the children looked to their older siblings and cousins, before Adam smiled, nodding. They formed a queue and waited for their gifts.

‘My cousins are the cutest.’

Adam and the others handed out their souvenirs. Adam had brought one of each type to give to his adorable cousins.

“I brought a fang from the giant wolf snake for Lanababy, but she can play with it when she’s older,” Adam said, revealing the fang.

“Ooo,” the children replied, staring down at it.

“You are back,” Nirot called, approaching with the other teens.

“We have returned,” Jurot said.

“Will you tell us the tale?” Nirot asked, quickly sitting nearby.

Jurot smiled. He began to tell the tale, all the while the group listened intently.

‘That’s impossible!’ Wazool thought. ‘Five Fireballs? That’s not possible!’ His eyes snapped to Adam, who was brushing Lanarot’s hair, sneaking some bread to her lips.

Tariel tapped at the words on the page every so often.

“You, no speak?” Taygak asked.

No. I am mute.

Katool sat up straight and made a motion with her hand.

Tariel stared at the girl confused.

Katool repeated the motions with her hand.

Tariel remained confused.

Katool looked to her mother, wondering if she was doing it wrong.

“She does not know the signs. She is not an Iyrman.” Citool pet her daughter’s head gently.

“Ock!” Katool held her head, realising her mistake.

“Did I miss the stories?” Strom asked, making his way to the dinner, dragging with him a barrel of alcohol. He stood there, glancing around to all the Iyrmen, and cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘I shouldn’t have brought so much.’

“You did,” Adam replied.

“A shame,” Strom said, placing the barrel of alcohol to the side. “Who is this little girl? Come.” He reached out to Lanarot.

“As if you could steal my-,” Adam stopped, feeling Lanarot squirm as she reached up to Strom. ‘What?’

Nirot smirked at Adam, before she reached out her arms. “Lanarot. Come.”

Strom was holding the girl, but upon hearing her name, Lanarot twitched, looking to Nirot, before reaching out to her cousin.

Adam remained frozen in shock. “This betrayal shall never be forgotten. Jurot, I told you this would happen. I’m never leaving the Iyr again.”

Sonarot wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure they could handle the stress of Adam staying, but considering the company he had brought back, she wasn’t sure they could handle the stress of him going either.

“The Iyr has changed. First the Front Iyr, and now my darling baby sister.” Adam hung his head, staring at the soup before him.

“We were told recently that each family must prepare a warrior who is at least a Master,” Sonarot informed.

Jurot and his cohorts snapped their head to Sonarot. “A Master from each family?” Jurot asked.

Sonarot bowed her head. “That is all we have been told. To hear that Lord Morkarai has also appeared…” She wasn’t sure if she should have mentioned it, but it was a great honour for them to bring such a great figure to the Iyr.

“He is Mor, of the Kingly Fire. He is a Prince of the Fire Giants.”

Adam blinked. “What? Why did no one tell me? Thankfully I didn’t offend him too bad.”

“You did well not offending him too much,” Jurot said, patting his shoulder.

Sonarot smiled too. “You have done well, Adam.”

Adam smiled, glad that they could see how far he had improved. “Yeah, and I didn’t even offend Lady Shamia or Star Tariel.”

“It is true,” Shamia said, though she wasn’t sure why it was mentioned.

Tariel wrote down the confirmation in her book.

Wazool stared at Adam, wondering why it was such a great accomplishment.

They eventually turned in for the night, with Lanarot cuddled up beside Adam. “Oh, so you’ve come crawling back to me, have you, traitor?”

Lanarot stared up at him and smiled her toothy smile.

“If you weren’t so cute, I wouldn’t forgive you,” Adam said, kissing the top of her head, and cuddling up with her. “I missed you so much, Lanababy.”

“Adam,” Jurot called, wrapping the blanket around him.

“Yeah?”

“Lanarot is happy to see me return.”

“Yeah?”

“She is happy as I when my father returned home,” Jurot said. “Will my children be the same?

Adam couldn’t help but contain his smile, meeting Sonarot’s gaze, the pair smiling wider. “I’m sure they will be.”

Jurot stared up at the ceiling for a long while. He now understood how his father must have felt. He closed his eyes, pushing away all the thoughts in his head. His heart pounded wildly, and there was a pang of great grief and anguish.

It was in the dead of night when he opened his eyes. He did not know the feeling in his heart. The feeling of not wanting to die when he went out to adventure. He began to sweat, trying to force out the feeling. When he couldn’t, he let the cold feeling encompass him, falling asleep to dread.