“That’s right!” Adam looked over to the twins who were eating up the meat from their nana’s fork. Adam snatched Jirot up and kissed her cheek all over. “Is that why you’re ignoring me? Is it because daddy only came in third place? Did you expect better from me? I’m so sorry, Jibaby! I’ll do much better next time.”

Jirot huffed quietly and squirmed, trying to get out of his grasp, until she finally gave up, relenting to her father’s affections as he kissed her all over and hugged her tight. Jarot puffed up his cheeks, pouting up at his father, looking to his grandmother for support.

“What are you doing?” an Iyrman child asked.

“I’m kissing my children.”

“Why?”

“Because I love them so much,” Adam said, picking up Jarot to kiss his face all over too, causing the boy to shyly look away and squirm.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I’m a father, that’s why.”

The children narrowed their eyes at Adam. “Does mother love me?”

“Of course your mother loves you.”

The child blinked, before looking to an Iyrman nearby with a curious look. The woman motioned for the child to come, and the pair embraced.

“You see?” Adam said. “Why do you think your parents are so strong? It’s because they love you so much.”

The children looked to their family, trying to understand what Adam was saying. The adult Iyrmen sighed, annoyed by Adam’s words, since they were…

The adult Iyrmen glanced between one another.

He was… right?

“Daddy, stwong,” Konarot said, patting his knee gently.

“That’s right. I’m strong because I love you all so much.” Adam lifted Konarot up, kissing her forehead, before doing the same with the rest of his triplets too. “Don’t you worry! Daddy is going to protect you all! Daddy’s going to become the strongest!”

“I will protect you too,” Jurot said, reaching down to ruffle Jirot’s hair.

“That’s right, uncle Jurot will protect you too, so you have to be nice to him,” Adam stated.

Jirot cackled up at Jurot and hugged his arm, giggling wildly as she trapped his arm to her.

“Not that nice,” Adam whispered, ruffling her hair.

“Jarot,” Jurot called, causing the boy to look his way. Jarot nibbled on some meat, but stopped nibbling as he stared up at his uncle, frozen. “You must grow up well.” Jurot rubbed the boy’s hair, causing him to turn away, hiding himself from his uncle.

“No, he needs to stay small and cute forever,” Adam retorted.

“His name is Jarot, so he must grow well,” Jurot stated.

“He’s too young to grow up well,” Adam replied. “He’s the youngest, so he should stay small and cute forever.”

“So Konarot will grow up big and strong?” Jurot asked.

“No, Konarot is too young, so she should stay small and cute forever.”

“They must grow well.”

“I refuse,” Adam said, hugging his triplets tighter. “You cannot. It’s not right! It’s not right!” He kissed their foreheads once more and rubbed his cheeks against theirs.

Jurot wondered why Adam was even more of an idiot now, but he supposed that Adam was recharging once more, and that he’d calm down in a few days. ‘Cringe.’

More children would pass on by as they greeted Adam and the others, as well as a few of the older Iyrmen. A few hours after noon, after the fourth set of Iyrmen greeted the group, a familiar face appeared. An older Iyrman, wheeling a rickshaw of barrels and gourds. He was tall and thin, though well muscled, and carried a greatsword on his back. He set the rickshaw down nearby, before picking up a long rope of gourds, which he brought over to the group.

‘Isn’t this how we met the first time?’ Adam thought.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I had heard my grandnephews and grandnieces returned,” Rajin said, his voice as small as ever.

“We have returned,” Jurot confirmed, shaking his granduncle’s arm, before accepting a gourd.

Rajin greeted Kitool, offering her a gourd, before he finally clasped Adam’s forearm. “Come,” he said. “Marry into my family.”

Adam blinked. ‘Seriously.’ “I can’t believe you’d do this while the old man’s out fighting.”

“I would have gone too, if I was not the Family Elder,” Rajin stated, offering Adam a gourd.

“Oh!” Adam said, accepting the wine. “By any chance, could you provide some drinks for Lord Stokmar during the seventh of this month?”

“The twins’ birthday?” Rajin asked.

“That’s right,” Adam confirmed, surprised that the old Iyrman knew so much. “Lord Stokmar said they’d come if they had some acceptable drinks.”

“Will you marry into the Jin family?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m still married to my work.”

“It would be best for you to marry,” Rajin said, placing a hand on Adam’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “For the children.”

“I can see that the Jin’s Family Elder is wise,” Adam replied. “Unfortunately, you underestimate how much of an idiot I am.”

“I have not underestimated it,” Rajin assured. “You are Jarot’s grandson.”

Adam flushed slightly. “Whose that old man’s grand-,” Adam cleared his throat, realising that his children were watching. “I can’t believe he’s going to miss their birthday.”

Rajin’s brows shot upwards, but he stifled his laughter, instead smiling warmly. “I am sure it will hurt him.”

Adam frowned, suddenly filled with guilt. “Yeah…” ‘Should I send word to him on their birthday?’

“I will see which drinks I can gift,” Rajin said, before placing down a few barrels, then heading out.

The other children nearby were excited to see the Jin Family Elder, clapping their hands excitedly as Rajin left.

“So, Family Elder’s don’t go out to fight?” Adam asked.

“No, they remain behind to watch over the family.”

“Aren’t they normally the strongest?”

“In granduncle Rajin’s case that is true, but it is often not,” Jurot said. “Grandfather is our strongest, grandaunt Zirot is stronger than grandmother too.”

“Oh yeah?” Adam said, rubbing his chin. “I heard that…” Adam thought about Sarot, Jarot’s younger brother who had gone to die right before the gates were closed. “You’re pretty strong too, though?”

“I am not as strong as grandfather,” Jurot stated. “Even with one arm, grandfather can beat me.”

“Yeah, that old man is pretty damn strong,” Adam whispered. “He should be, since he was the first one to beat me.”

Jurot nodded. “Did you hear, Jarot? Your greatfather is strong.”

Jarot looked up to Jurot, before waddling over to his grandmother, hugging her leg. The boy hid his head against her leg, before looking back to see Jurot still looking at him, before he hid himself once more. Sonarot rubbed his head gently, smiling down at him.

It was only thanks to Jarot leaving to fight that Sonarot was able to be so close to them, otherwise her father would have monopolised the twins for himself. The chaos which would have ensued if Adam returned back to find the old man closer to the twins than himself…

Sonarot closed her eyes, and almost wished she could have seen it.

“Kekekekeke,” Jirot cackled, looking back towards her grandmother as she grabbed some more meat to chew.

“Jirot, you cannot eat it all,” Sonarot said, picking up the girl and placing the tiny twin on her lap. She had come to check on the children to make sure they were behaving well, especially Jirot. The little girl continued to nibble on the meat, before offering some to her twin brothers.

Adam poured the wine into a cup and sipped it slowly. He winced. ‘Caught me slipping.’ He coughed and shook his head. “I think I’ll give this to Jaygak.”

“It is good wine,” Jurot said, his face contorted as he sipped the sour wine.

Konarot looked up at the gourd, but Adam rubbed her head. “This is not for you, my daughter.” Adam rubbed her head gently. “Jurot.”

“Yes?”

“My daughter,” Adam stated, smirking slightly.

“Yes?”

“My daughter…” Adam kept rubbing her head. “My daughter.” He sat up straighter, his chest out with pride. His entire body tingled as he realised what that meant, and his heart lightened slightly, realising why he left to fight so much.

Konarot smiled up at her father, before resting her head against his leg, half hugging him. She allowed him to feed her some of the fried meat, with Adam almost falling to the wayside as the others excitedly heard the tale from Jurot and Kitool.

Meanwhile, Umbra was relaxing on a rooftop, sipping some wine. She could feel the gaze of several Iyrmen upon her, as well as figures from the shadows.

“You are not Lord Storm, so we cannot allow you to move freely while Elder Story is not here,” Iromin had stated to her.

Umbra recalled her father, and how much joy he had speaking of his friends, especially the one known as Elder Story. Since she was his friend, she decided against causing trouble in the Iyr, especially recalling the warnings she had received from Adam.

Adam, who would dare to fight the world, but not the Iyr.

Umbra decided to wait for Elder Story to return. ‘She’s off to keep my boy in check?’ Umbra thought about whether she should return to the Upper Realms, but with her arrival, chaos would ensue, and she would be engulfed in a civil war, one she wasn’t particularly interested in.

‘I could request the Iyr’s assistance…’ She winced, thinking about ruling the soon to crumble empire. ‘Uncle Shama has gone too? Is he going to help keep it stable for a few years?’ Umbra thought back to the old man who used to fight with her father. Even back then, that old man was considered one of the strongest across the Upper Realm, and her father’s name would cause the world to shake. The pair had once made a mess in the Lower Realms, but it was thanks to a great number of individuals, including Elder Story, that the mess was cleaned up well enough.

‘He didn’t kill Asa?’ Umbra frowned. There were things she had been told, and things she thought she knew. Shama had certainly killed his father to take his throne, but that old man was alive? The Asa? The same Asa that was a legend before Jaeryael was even a babe? That Asa? Who was now fighting to defend South Aldland?

She wondered if the arrival of these impossible figures, including herself, were thanks to the machinations of other figures. Her thoughts then fell to Crowseer, who had decided to trap himself within the Iyr. ‘Are those bastard Stars to blame?’

Finally, her thoughts fell back to the fool of a father she had met. ‘…’