“It’s not fair if you hug her!” Adam complained, marching his way to the muscular young man. He was tall and strongly built, wearing thick attire. He had dark eyes and dark hair, which fell down to his shoulders. At his side was an axe, one which held great magics within it. On his forehead was a tattoo, at the centre was a single blue circle, with three blue diamonds on each side of it.

Jurot wrapped his arms around Lanarot, causing her to grow limp as she snuggled up with her brother.

“I can’t believe you would do this to me,” Adam grumbled, reaching out a hand.

“It is good to see you, Adam,” Jurot said, clasping Adam’s forearm.

“You too,” Adam said, before noting the new scars across Jurot’s body, though none of them seemed fresh. ‘It hasn’t been that long, but it looks like you’ve been busy. Were you the Vanguard again?’ Adam furrowed his brows. ‘No. Didn’t he say he couldn’t do that any more?’

Jurot’s eyes were glued to Adam’s axe. It was made of a grey wood and stormsteel. It was unmistakably that axe. “Mother gave you that axe.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, lifting up the axe. “I started enchanting it recently. Won’t be quite as good as ol’ Phantom, but it won’t be too bad.”

“It is a good axe,” Jurot said, bowing his head slowly. It hadn’t been used in a long while, not since he was a boy. ‘If it is within your hands…’

“I would assume so, considering how nice it is.” Adam thought it belonged to Jarot, since it was well built and beautiful.

Jurot placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It is worthy of you, Adam.”

“That’s what Aunt said.”

Jurot nodded. Since it had come to this, then he would need to accept it. His heart sank, but he flexed his muscles, and fought away the thoughts.

“Did you have fun?” Adam asked, a coy smile on his face.

“Yes.” Jurot’s lips almost twitched into a smile. “I have grown stronger.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Nice.” Adam pat Jurot’s shoulder. “Then I guess I need to get stronger too?” ‘I could Level Up, I suppose…’

As Jurot settled within the shared family estate, Adam went to greet Jaygak and Kitool too, the pair having returned with Jurot.

“Did you guys enjoy yourselves?” Adam asked, approaching the Devilkin and the Human Iyrmen.

“I did,” Jaygak said, a wide smirk across her face. She was red skinned, like most other Devilkin Adam had met. She was short, but well built, though that was no surprise since she was born within the walls of the Iyr. At her side was a blade, a blade which would make Phantom look like a toy once she was stronger.

Adam shook her forearm, raising his brow. “Not too much, I hope?”

“I can’t promise that,” Jaygak replied, innocently.

“You’ve gotten pretty cocky in front of me,” Adam said, squeezing her forearm slightly. “Have you gotten stronger too?”

“I may have become stronger?” Jaygak replied, her voice full of vaguery. Vaguery, a word used to describe her perfectly.

“Did you have fun too, Kitool?” Adam asked, shaking her forearm.

Kitool was an Iyrman who was deceptively pretty. Her head was shaved at the sides, towards the top, which was also cut fairly short. She carried at her back a quarterstaff, one which had been enchanted recently, and had seen its fair share of blood.

“Yes,” Kitool replied simply. “Have you been well, Adam?”

“Not bad, not bad.” Adam smiled. “I’ve missed you all so much. It’s been a little boring.”

“Boring?” Jaygak asked, glancing around. She, like Jurot and Kitool, could feel it. The Iyr had felt so different. It had changed since they had left, but they couldn’t quite put their finger on why.

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The trio settled down as the food was made. It was the last day of cooking for the Kan family, who had made piles of flat breads, as well as plenty of fried meat and vegetables for them.

Damokan and Kalokan had both managed to claim some milk for themselves, as was their right for assisting in cooking. They had carried some vegetables around for their family, and though it hadn’t helped much, they were rewarded well for their contribution.

‘Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen the teens around much…’ Adam glanced around, noting they weren’t here this evening. He had seen them only a handful of times, though he supposed they were probably working for the Iyr.

“You have returned!” called Tarot. He stepped into the shared estate carrying a net of gourds.

‘It’s not Rajin this time?’ Adam thought.

The old man placed the net of gourds to one side, before clasping his grandnephew on the shoulder. “I see you have more scars on you, little Jurot.”

“Yes,” Jurot replied. “You as well.”

“I’m sure you have grown more than I.” Tarot grinned wide, squeezing his grandnephew’s shoulder. “Can you carry me now?”

“Yes.”

Tarot slapped the young Iyrman’s shoulder. “Good! When brother returns, he will be overjoyed.”

“Grandfather is gone?” Jurot asked. He, like the other Iyrmen, hadn’t been briefed about the Iyr since they had returned, though that was normal.

“Jarot has gone with the one hundred,” Tarot explained.

‘To war?’ Jurot furrowed his brows. “He will bring much glory.”

“That is right,” Tarot said. The smile on his lips almost wavered. “Sarot has also gone.” He noted the boy furrowing his brows in thought, since it was highly unlikely that Sarot had gone to war too. “He is dead. For the honour and glory of the Iyr.”

“He did not die a coward,” Jurot said, bowing his head slightly. It had struck him by surprise to hear that his granduncle, and the strongest member of the family, had died. He understood why Tarot was heavily scarred now, since it would be up to one of the older members of the family to take place as one of the Grandmasters.

“I will become strong,” Jurot said. “I will become a pillar of our Rot family.”

“I know,” Tarot embraced the young man for a moment, before going off to greet the other two who had returned.

‘Stronger,’ Jurot thought. He had only just gained new strength, but it wasn’t enough.

“Papa Juju,” Lanarot called, reaching up with her arms.

Jurot lifted her up again, and let her cuddle up against his neck. He approached Adam and his triplets, who were relaxing in the shade behind their father.

“Konarot, Kirot, Karot, did you greet your uncle?” Adam asked.

The triplets looked up at him, a shadow of guilt across their face. Adam raised his brows at them expectantly, before the trio quickly hugged their uncle’s leg, and returned back to the shade.

“Well, I suppose that’s good enough?” Adam sighed. ‘You little punks! How can you treat him like that? Even if you are this cute, do you think I’ll forgive you?’

“The Iyr is different,” Jurot stated, sitting beside his brother. Lanarot rubbed her head against his neck, before sucking against her thumb. Jurot wondered if Adam had anything to do with that feeling, but there was no way Adam could be responsible for something this big.

“Yeah, I think it’s because Elder Story is gone.”

Jurot blinked. “What?”

“Yeah.” Adam shrugged his shoulders.

Jurot stared at Adam, still unsure if he had heard the Half Elf correctly. Adam had explained his story to him, about how he had already died twice to a God who no longer existed within this time line, and yet even that wasn’t as unbelievable as this.

“What?” Adam asked.

“Elder Story does not go,” Jurot replied. Adam wouldn’t lie to him, but even then, this was too much.

“It is true,” Sonarot said, pouring her son some wine from a gourd Tarot had brought them. It was pink, the peach wine that the Rot family loved most.

“Elder Story is gone?” Jurot whispered, sipping the wine from his cup. He couldn’t taste it, not while he was deep in thought about what he had learned. His eyes met Jaygak’s and Kitool’s, and the pair were equally as shocked.

“We have closed our gates,” Sonarot said, pouring Adam some wine too.

“Then we will be unable to return if we leave,” Jurot said. “Will we set out?” Jurot’s eyes met Adam’s.

“I think we should. I mean, after Lanarot’s birthday, of course.”

Jurot nodded. “Of course.” Something like that was exactly what Adam would say. The knowledge that Elder Story had left remained in Jurot’s mind. Elder Story had never left the Iyr, not since it had formed. The other Great Elders could leave the Iyr, since that was within their role, but Elder Story?

“Papa, bwead.” Lanarot pointed to the flat bread opposite them, before returning back to sucking her thumb.

Jurot broke a piece of the bread and scooped up some of the meat, before bringing it up to Lanarot’s lips. She accepted the food her brother brought, chewing it slowly as she remained against his powerful chest. Her hand reached up to grab his pec, feeling how hard it was.

“Lord Strom is dead?” Jurot had only guess as to why Elder Story would have left the Iyr.

“Yeah,” Adam replied. “He’s dead.”

Jurot remained silent. “Did Elder Story leave on the day he died.”

“I’m not sure,” Adam admitted. “No, hold on.” Adam thought back to when Sarot had spoken with him. It was raining then, and he had very little time to speak with the family. “Your… our granduncle, he wanted to speak with me. He said he gave his life for the Rot family. Baktu called for him, and he answered the call.”

“He will not shame us,” Jurot said, “and we will not shame him.”

“He asked if I could name one of the twins’ children after him,” Adam said, clearing his throat.

Jurot remained silent, feeding his sister. Elder Story had taken his granduncle, along with many of the Iyr’s strongest, to complete a task due to Lord Strom, Emperor Hadda’s, death. The Iyr was at its most vulnerable, and his grandfather had also gone to war, to assist the Aldish in their war. He wasn’t sure if the Iyr had ever been in such a state, not since their near genocide. He pushed away the thoughts again, finding his brow pulsing with how many times he tried to think.

“It is a good name,” Jurot said.

“Yeah,” Adam replied, quietly.