“Even against Third Ice, you still won!” Jaygak complained. “I bet I couldn’t even land a hit on him either!”
The Iyrmen had rented a room to share drinks and snacks, allowing Jaygak to get rid of her pent up frustrations.
Jurot poured Jaygak another drink. “You would be able to strike him, since he is not Kitool.”
“You’re right. It’s not because I’m weak, but because Kitool is too strong! Kitool! Why did you beat me so easily in front of everyone? I’m your best friend!” Jaygak grabbed Kitool and hugged her tight, resting her cheek on top of Kitool’s head. “My best friend.”
Amokan poured some wine in for the Iyrman too. “It was expected you would be the first to lose.”
Jaygak opened her eyes to glare at Amokan. The handsome Iyrman returned a soft smile towards her glare, pushing the cup of wine towards her.
“You were the weakest out of all of us, even when we were young,” Amokan stated. “How could anyone blame you when you were born so small?”
“Just you wait!” Jaygak picked up the cup of wine and drank it down. “Adam’s going to make me a Master and then I’m going to beat you!”
Amokan flashed another smile, a smile far more charming and playful. “I am certain that will be the case. Timojin and I have worked so hard to become Experts, and you were all able to rest within the Iyr for half a year and still grow more powerful. Who but Adam could do such a thing?”
Jurot bowed his head. He had informed Amokan, Timojin, and Ilyakan, of what had occurred over the years. Amokan, who had grown up with the three Iyrmen, had reacted as expected. He had almost cried from his laughter.
‘He has to be at least that crazy for us to beat him,’ Amokan had declared.
“So, you have decided at least to become a Master?” Amokan asked, looking to Jaygak. “You, who only wished to reach Steel Rank?”
“A Master is still Steel Rank,” Jaygak replied.
“Almost Silver,” Amokan retorted.
“Almost, but not Silver.”
“Iyrmen Steel is Aldish Silver.”
“I might be an iyrman, but the Aldish can still beat me.”
“This tournament proves you wrong.”
Jaygak grabbed a bottle of wine, and reached out to grab Amokan’s collar. “Don’t argue when you’re still sober!”
Amokan opened his mouth, drinking the wine Jaygak poured down his throat, laughing once he was done drinking.
Jaygak eventually drank herself to sleep. Kitool dragged her away to sleep, while Jurot cleaned up the area. Amokan accepted the bottles of wine and went to share them with Timojin and Ilyakan.
“Did she complain much?” Ilyakan asked, sipping from her tiny cup.
“As she always does,” Amokan replied, still smiling wide. “I did not expect everything to change. Jaygak wants to become Silver Rank at least.”
“The Jaygak that we know?” Ilyakan poured more wine for herself.
“The Jaygak that we know,” Amokan confirmed, taking a small sip from the cup. “Even Kitool has decided to change her path.” He gave the pair a look, which told them what they needed to know.
Timojin remained silent, falling into thought.
“We have always wished to become the Chief of the Iyr,” Amokan said. “Jurot had always wished to become Gold Rank. Kitool, she always wished to reach Silver Rank, and Jaygak, she always wished to reach Steel Rank.”
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“Kitool’s decision to reach Silver Rank made little sense, considering her strength,” Ilyakan said. “Jaygak chose to step down at a comfortable position, since she was not as physically capable as you all.” Her eyes fell to Timojin, who was also quite the monster.
Jurot, Kitool, and Amokan grew up within the shared estate together. Timojin, being Amokan’s rival, had all but grown up with them too. Jaygak, though possessing decent strength, was closer to the average strength of an Iyrman. Amokan and Timojin each ranked at the top of their age group in terms of strength, and though Jurot’s physical strength was not at the same level, his family’s abilities would leave him nearly unrivalled in terms of toughness. Even Kitool’s agility was nearly unmatched within her age group.
These four, their natural abilities were monstrous, even among Iyrmen. They could all reach the heights of a Great Elder if they wished. There were often stories of such. Children, born in the same area, each becoming well known figures. Golden Children.
Each of the Great Elders worked alongside their rivals, many of whom they grew up alongside, and each which aimed for the same spot. It was more than likely that if Amokan or Timojin became the Chief, the other would work alongside them as their aid.
Jurot had decided to adventure, taking most of his inspiration from his father. Kitool’s original plan was to reach Silver Rank, and then would decide whether she wanted to give herself to the Iyr. If she had wanted to, achieving Gold Rank alongside Jurot was more than reasonable for her. Yet, Jaygak…
Jaygak, being of born with a weak body, and only being as strong as the average Iyrman, just couldn’t keep up with her compatriots. She had resigned herself to retiring after becoming Steel Rank, before becoming a Master.
To think that both Kitool and Jaygak would change their plans, to reach even greater heights, it filled the group with a different buzz than the buzz of the alcohol, that of a great pride.
“He,” Amokan said, speaking in their tongue, “is terrifying.”
His companions knew who he was talking about. They raised their cups of wine, agreeing with his sentiment, before drinking.
Adam was an anomaly no one had expected, and to think he held such great abilities, in martial, magic, and even his other skills. It was a surprise to them all he was allowed to live, especially considering the Iyr had closed its gates.
‘He will force me to work hard once I am Chief,’ Timojin thought, and upon seeing Amokan’s wide grin, realised he was thinking the same thing.
Omen: 7, 11
Jaygak wolfed down a large platter of food at the arena, enjoying all the special food stuffs on offer to her. Baked potatoes, soft and fluffy, lathered in butter and other herbs, to steaks which had been fried in the kitchen near the doors, the smell wafting through the area to entice the others to order. Adam had allowed them all to use the party fund to buy more food and drinks for themselves, and Jaygak had decided to buy as much as she could until she was stuffed.
“Sponsored by Sir Tamon Littlesea, defeating his foes with his blazing blade, Flaming Hyena of the Golden Savages!”
‘Tamon Littlesea?’
“Sponsored by Sir Landon Littlesea, standing firm like an immovable wall like his brother, Chief Executive Officer Adam!”
Adam smiled at the introduction, raising his axe in the air as he stepped into the arena from his wall. ‘An immovable wall?’
The crowd was already shouting, filled with a fervour of excitement. One of the warriors was adorned in purple plate mail, and had made a name for himself as defeating one of the top contenders from the nobles. The other wore full plate too, though his helmet was fashioned in the shape of a hyena. At his chest was an amulet made of diamond, one worth three hundred gold at least.
‘What a nice sword.’ Adam was unable to contain his smirk as he circled around the arena, before finally coming across his foe.
“So you’re Adam,” Flaming Hyena said, unlatching the lower jaw of his helmet, allowing it to drop. He had tan skin, that of am Aswadian, and his dark eyes stared at Adam fiercely.
“That’s right,” Adam replied. “I see you’re under Sir Tamon Littlesea.”
“He paid a pretty penny.”
“How much is a pretty penny?”
“More than you-,” Flaming Hyena cleared his throat. “Five hundred gold upfront, and one hundred gold each month for each member of our group to be paid monthly, for a year.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Six.”
“Are you the strongest?”
“No.”
Adam smiled from behind his helmet, before realising how rude he was being. He shifted his visor so his opponent could see his face too. “Let us have a fair fight.”
Flaming Hyena latched his helmet together once more. “Yes. May I have a moment to compose myself?”
“Of course,” Adam said, stepping away, while stretching out his muscles, and he waited for the man known as Flaming Hyena.
Jurot stared at the pair as they prepared themselves. He had thought to mention the Golden Savages to Adam, since they were quite decent. In fact, in terms of power, Jurot may have bet on them to win their segment. However, there was one flaw the group possessed, and it was that they did not use shields.
‘It deals 1D6 plus 1D6 fire damage, so it can match a greatsword, but why does he have no shield?’ Adam thought, trying to figure out what his opponent was up to. He remained standing still, his hand the hilt of his sheathed blade. ‘Isn’t it weird that my swords have come to haunt me twice from the same family? What are the chances of that?’