“I’d like to head to the temple before we head to the Duchess,” Adam said to Sir Maria, the large knight from the previous evening.

“The Duchess is waiting,” Sir Maria replied, her voice stern.

Adam stared through the knight’s visor, catching the gleam of her pupils through her visor. For once, he wasn’t actually trying to cause trouble for a noble, but rather, his heart wouldn’t stop beating so harshly, and the back of his neck was sweaty, and not from the noonval heat.

“No, perhaps you’re right,” Adam began, and the nearby Iyrmen tensed up slightly from Adam’s tone of voice. The Half Elf reached up to his symbol of Baktu, that of the Lord of Death, stroking it gently, as though he was stroking Lanarot’s tummy while she snoozed away. “Who are the Divine in comparison to the Duchess.”

Sir Maria glared at Adam through her helmet, though she remained silent as the moments passed. The nearby guards who had arrived with Sir Maria placed their hands on their weapons, causing the teen Iyrmen to reach for their own weapons, while those with shields strapped them against their arms.

A horse whinnied from nearby, as a guard quickly grabbed its reins and began to calm it down. The other horses nearby also began to shift about, feeling the blood thirst in the air.

“We will stop by the temple district first,” Sir Maria stated, with an unsettling calmness.

“Thank you,” Adam replied.

The six carriages were of fine make, finer than any other Adam had ever seen. They were far more comfortable too, though Adam was too nervous to feel the plushness of the seats. The blue banners held the symbol of the East Sea family, that of waves crashing down from the right.

“Bronzewood,” Jurot said.

“Bronzewood?”

“Once the wood was cultivated near the northern peninsula of Aswadasad,” Jurot explained. “It was once imported by the two great ports of Aldland, but during a war, East Port managed to claim it for itself when it pillaged the northern town, though it required great effort. They razed the town down, and had managed to stifle the wood’s growth in Aswadasad for generations. It is still grown in Aswadasad by one of the towns, though no longer near the sea, but deeper within the land.”

“It’s always war, isn’t it?” Adam joked. “Every time you hear about something being introduced to the land, it’s always from war.”

“Many times,” Jurot confirmed. “The Halfzers like the wood, and have offered to protect the town in times of war.”

“The Halfzers?”

“They are also known as the Halfmen due to their small statue,” Jurot said. “They are the farmer soldiers of the plains within North Aswadasad. They were forced away from the land thousands of years ago, but the Faro of North Aswadasad allowed them to resettle within the land when it was under constant threat by Aldland. The Halfzers claim most of the plains for themselves, and the Faro offered much of the northern forest in exchange for keeping the western plains for themselves.”

“Oh?” Adam asked. “The Faro gave away his land?”

“Her land, yes,” Jurot corrected. “When the Halfzers returned, Aldland tried to settle on the northern territory beside the sea. Each time they were forced away by the Halfzers. Once they were forced away, the Halfzers returned back to the plains to work their fields.”

“These Halfzers sound pretty damn cool.”

Jurot nodded. “When the Aldish returned for the fifth time, the Halzfers showed no quarter. During their first skirmishes, the captured nobles were ransomed back to the Aldish for piles of silver and gold. The fifth time, many young nobles of various of Aldland’s houses were lost.”

Adam raised his brows. ‘Damn.’

“The Aldish called for a war against the Halfzers, but Northern Aswadasad backed the Halfzers. Arms, shields, food, such was provided to the Halfzers in aid. While Aldland still worked on raising gold for their wars, the Halfzers were gifted aid from Aswadasad, and required much less of it due to their stature and size.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

‘They probably require about two thirds or so, I guess?’

“When the Halfzers were forced back, Aswadasad sent fresh soldiers to assist, not many, but each were members of the various orders. The orders rallied around the Halfzers, and sent not more than a few hundred warriors, but such warriors each were at least Experts, and proved difficult for the Aldish.”

‘How romantic,’ Adam thought, smiling slightly.

“They were fierce warriors,” Jurot stated. “The Halfzers proved troublesome for even we Iyrmen, for their boars were nimble and swift.”

“Their boars?”

“The Halfzers make fine warriors, as many are Rage Dancers, but their greatest strength is that most fight from boarback. Their riders number close to ten thousand, and when faced against such a force, their arrows blot out the sun.”

“Their arrows?” Adam asked, tilted his head. He had originally imagined tiny warriors in full plate with great blades.

“They are boar archers,” Jurot explained.

“Boar archers…” Adam whispered. ‘What the hell? Why are these Halfzers so cool?’

Adam exhaled, wondering where the time had passed as he eyed up the temple for Lord Sozain. ‘I should meet with the Halfzers one day.’

“Father Death,” Jurot greeted the older man of the temple.

“Iyrman,” the old man replied, reaching out with his thin hand.

Jurot bowed his head, allowing the old man to rub his head, before he did so with the Iyrmen.

“What brings you to the temple of our great Lord of Death?”

“My brother,” Jurot replied. “He wishes to donate to the temples.”

Father Death looked to Adam, the Half Elf who Lord Sozain had personally taken an interest in. It had been difficult to keep the news to themselves, but they had done their best. “You have come to donate?”

“I have a bunch of gems and such,” Adam said, offering the priests a small box full of gems. “We did well in the tournament, so I’ve come to donate some of my winnings.”

“How much are you donating?”

“Five hundred gold for the God of Death, and five hundred spread out across the other temples,” Adam replied, revealing another box full of smaller gems, each worth ten gold. “If you could do that on my behalf, I would appreciate it. I have some business with the Duchess, and I fear I may have annoyed her if I take too long here.”

“You fear the Duchess more than you fear the Divine?”

“I’m not giving hundreds of gold to the Duchess,” Adam replied, clearing his throat. “I’m also a little shy, and I thought, perhaps, it would be best not to show off too much.” The words of Crowseer came across Adam’s mind, the mysterious figure having already warned Adam twice.

Father Death understood what the Iyrmen understood, and that was that Adam was Adam. “We will donate the gold on your behalf.”

“Thank you.” Adam stepped up to the statue, and knelt before it. He clasped his hands together. ‘I appreciate your help. I hope you watch over us and make sure we don’t die, or if we do, please allow us to take as many as we can with us. I’ll personally offer her head to you if she acts up, but I’d rather it doesn’t get to that. I know that offending her was a bad idea, but I really didn’t mean to ask for death.’ Adam paused. ‘If anything does happen to me, please accept my, uh, please accept the children once they’ve lived long and healthy lives.’

Adam didn’t feel any response from the Lord of Death. He opened an eye to look at the statue and noted its lack of glow.

“…”

‘Five hundred gold,’ Father Death thought. It wasn’t the highest donation he had ever received, though if he compared it to donations from living individuals, it may have been in the top ten of the surviving records. ‘Your faith is not just for show, but the God of Death cares more for blood than gold, young Half Elf.’

Adam felt a tingle in the back of his neck as he stepped away. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’ Adam left his mind open, relaxing it to allow the God of Death to speak with him if he needed to. Moments later, he stepped out, still unsure of how he should feel.

“How come you didn’t donate to the temple?” Adam asked.

“We do not offer gold to the temple of Lord Sozain,” Jurot replied, simply.

“So you donated to everyone but Baktu?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Adam replied. ‘The Iyr is the Iyr.’ He thought back to the Iyr, which housed his children, as well as his sister and his Cousins. ‘You punks, are you growing up too quickly?’ He sighed.

“If something happens, make sure you get Lucy and Mara out of there,” Adam whispered in their tongue. Adam sat up straighter, as Jurot, who sat with his arm’s crossed, smiled. It wasn’t just any smile, but the wide smile of his grandfather. Something about Jurot’s smile caused Adam’s hair to stand up.

“Do not tease Jurot,” Jaygak said in their tongue, shaking her head. “He will think of the good fight he will miss if it does not occur.”

Hearing Jaygak speak as stiffly as the Iyrmen caused Adam to sit up straighter. Jurot may have been chattier while he spoke of old tales, or wood, but it wasn’t like the way Jaygak spoke. Hearing Jaygak speak like an Iyrman caused Adam’s stomach to churn. ‘I don’t like this.’

The carriages stopped, and Adam glanced outside, seeing that they were overlooking the ocean to one side, and the several forts across it, dotted like beads on the waves. A hundred ships docked along the port, and many more made their way about. There were easily hundreds of small ships working on catching fish, many far in the distance, barely able to be spotted by even Iyrmen eyes.

The carriage began to move again once more, escorted by the mounted knights. Adam had originally though they were near the Duchess’ place, but after minutes of travelling within the carriage, he wondered how far they were going to go.

‘Seriously, come on…’