Omen: 7, 8

“Cousin Adam,” Asorot called while Adam was gently rocking Jirot and Jarot to sleep.

“Yes, Cousin Asorot?” Adam replied, smiling towards the young boy.

“When I grow up, will I be as strong as you?” the boy asked, glancing down to the floor, frowning slightly.

Adam smiled. “Have you forgotten who your grandfather is?”

Asorot thought back to his grandfather, who was currently one of the highest ranking Iyrmen in all of the Iyr. As one of the Great Eld-,

“Back in the day, he was a crazy, wild Iyrman,” Adam said, thinking back to the story he had been told. “He was someone who could go toe to toe with the likes of Elder Wrath, and could cause such a mess in the Iyr.”

Asorot narrowed his eyes. ‘Grandfather? Cause a mess?’ Asorot visibly tilted his head to one side.

“He was the one who went to go kill a Dragon for killing his grandchild,” Adam said, noting the way Asorot puckered his lips, furrowing his brows in anger. “Right, exactly. He was the kind of man to cut off his arm to apologise to his family, and then… and then…” Adam frowned. “And then be the first guy to beat me up!”

Asorot realised that Adam was talking about Jarot, who was…

Right. Jarot was Asorot’s grandfather.

“Your grandfather, is that kind of guy,” Adam said. “Don’t forget, your cousin came in first place. You’re lucky, because you’re one of the few people who can say that your grandfather chose not to cause trouble for the Iyr, and that you have a cousin who is strong, stronger than even the future Grand Commander of an order.”

Asorot snorted slightly, standing a little taller. “Yes!”

“As long as you train hard, I’m sure you’ll be stronger than even me!” Adam reassured, smiling wide at the boy.

Asorot smiled wider. “I will grow strong and cause trouble for the Iyr.”

Adam grit his teeth, trying to stop himself from laughing too hard. “How can you say that, Asorot? Your brother is going to become Elder Peace, so you can’t cause him too much trouble. Just a little trouble, okay?”

“Okay,” Asorot smiled shyly in response. “Thank you, Cousin Adam.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you made me feel good,” Asorot said, flushing slightly.

‘My Cousin is the cutest,’ Adam thought. “Ah, well, thank you for making me feel good too.”

“Can I hug you, Cousin Adam?”

“You silly boy,” Adam said, leaning forward. “You don’t need to ask.”

Asorot hugged Adam awkwardly, trying not to bother Jirot or Jarot, before he stepped back. “I will grow up strong.”

“No, don’t grow up at all, my Asorot.”

Asorot flushed again, before running away.

“Did you hear that?” Adam asked, looking down to Jirot and Jarot. “I was talking about your greatfather, you know? The guy who caused a mess in the north and then retired.”

Jarot sucked on his thumb, staring up at his father. He closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. Meanwhile, Jirot reached up to grab her father’s shirt, before she rolled closer to his chest, trying to fall asleep too.

‘Old man, when are you coming back?’ Adam thought. ‘Are you really going to miss their birthday?’

“Papa,” Lanarot called, holding up a ball for Jurot. “Play.”

“Okay,” Jurot said. He tossed the ball against the wall, taking turns with Lanarot. He could see Konarot and the others watching. “Do you wish to play?”

Konarot frowned up at Jurot, and shook her head. Kirot and Karot had both nodded, but seeing their sister had shook her head, they shook their heads after.

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“Lanarot, play with your nieces and nephew,” Jurot said, before he sat down to watch them. Gurot walked over to tug his shirt, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. He stared up expectantly at Jurot, who lifted the boy up, and then hugged him until the boy fell asleep. Jurot could feel how heavy the boy was, so stout, like a boy of the Rot family. Gurot, who had three brothers, Turot being the only brother he had at first, but now he had two new brothers, Asorot, and Murot. ‘Asorot must grow well to watch over you, but you must grow up well to watch over Murot.’

Mana: 21 -> 18

Spell: Fly

“Kekeke!” Jirot squealed with delight as Adam flew her around the block, while Jarot clutched at his father tight, closing his eyes as he soiled his clothy. Adam continued to fly the other children around, causing some to cry, while others clapped their hands excitedly, squealing as they were flown around.

The Iyrmen nearby kept an eye on Adam who flew the children around, but they didn’t stop him. They were prepared to catch the children if something were to happen, and to beat Adam.

Adam placed down the crying Gurot, who had begun crying within moments of flying. Jurot picked the boy up, patting his back gently. “It is fine, Gurot.”

“Hoo!” Gurot grabbed his cousin’s shirt, sucking on his thumb as he slowly calmed down. He rested his head against Jurot’s chest.

“Do you think Adam would allow you to be harmed?” Jurot asked. “Silly boy,” the Iyrman said, beginning to adopt Adam’s words. He held Gurot up to his chest. “You are still young, Gurot. We will not allow any harm to come to you.”

“Hoo,” Gurot replied, sucking on his thumb noisily.

Dunes stared at Jurot, who was giving off a terrible aura. It was an aura which had also befallen Adam recently. His eyes then turned to the twins nearby, watching as the pair played together.

“Why are you looking at them like that?” Amira asked.

“I’m just surprised to see how they have grown up,” Dunes admitted.

“Why don’t you go play with them?”

“I don’t deserve to do something like that.”

“…” Amira remained silent, unsure if she could speak on Adam’s behalf. She sighed, pressing a hand against the Priest’s back.

“Okay,” Adam said, causing some of the babies to flee from him with their waddling steps. “It’s story time.”

Katool helped with bringing the children together, before they eventually settled down with one another. Lanarot sat near the front excitedly, and Jirot and Jarot settled beside her, with Jitool also sitting near the twins. The triplets sat near the twins and their aunt too, while the other babies sat randomly about the area.

“I’m going to read a story from the Rot family today,” Adam said.

“No, it is Gak turn,” Katool stated.

“I know, I know, but this time I wanted to read something,” Adam said. “Okay, Katool?”

“It is Gak family turn.”

“Just this one time,” Adam said.

Katool puffed out her cheeks, and waved her hand at him threateningly. “Gak family turn.”

“I will read the Gak family story,” Jurot said. “Adam can read the Rot family story, and I will read the Gak family after after. Okay?”

“Okay,” Katool replied, settling herself down near her younger sister.

Vonda watched as Adam began to read the tale to the children, speaking quite positively of his grandfather, who he wouldn’t admit was his grandfather. ‘How cute,’ she thought, trying to stifle her smile.

“Will you speak with him?” Dunes whispered, sitting down beside the Priest of Life. “The others are getting worried too.”

“The brothers have great weights on their shoulders,” Vonda replied. “I will speak with him if he still holds such weight after the twins’ birthday.”

Dunes had seen how eager Adam was to fight, but to see him so anxious, even within the Iyr, it caused him stress too. “That is a good idea.”

“Adam may fall, but he always stands back up,” Vonda said. “He is closer to the Iyr than one might realise.”

“He’s a brother of an Iyrman, so I would say he is quite close.”

“He is closer than just being the brother of an Iyrman.” Vonda’s eyes fell to his amulet around the Half Elf’s neck.

Dunes wondered if perhaps Kitool or Jaygak should speak with Adam and Jurot, but Adam seemed to trust Vonda too. He wondered if he should speak with the Half Elf, but his eyes fell to the twins once more, and he glanced aside.

Meanwhile, Elder Zijin was checking the maths behind all the movement within the Iyr. He confirmed the sheet, handing it to one of his aides, before he sat down in his chair. ‘Churot is a gift from Baktu, that is for certain.’ The Devilkin had assisted all the Elders in their tasks, and the Great Elders often had him assist too, though they had to make sure that Churot didn’t understand exactly what he was calculating since he was still a boy.

“Elder Zijin,” called the Jin Family Elder.

“How may I help you, Elder?” Zijin replied to his uncle, who he technically outranked, but also didn’t, as was the way of the Iyr.

“I need drinks to offer to Lord Stokmar,” Rajin said. “I will offer one of the first bottles I had enclosed within the family treasury.”

“What is the occasion?” Zijin asked, pulling out a little notebook before writing within it.

“A birthday.”

“On the seventh?”

“Yes.”

“It has been written,” Zijin confirmed.

Rajin turned, but paused. “How goes the war?”

“It goes well.”

“Are you replying as an Elder, or as my nephew?”

“I can only reply as an Elder,” Zijin stated.

Rajin grunted. “Are you replying to me, your uncle, or the Family Elder?”

“I can only reply to you as the Family Elder.”

Rajin sighed. “You should be flexible, or you will find that you will break.”

“I am flexible in some matters,” Zijin replied, letting out a sigh that could only be given if one was the Elder of that particular young Half Elf.

“If the war requires more blood, the Jin family is always ready,” Rajin stated.

“The war has enough blood, and it will end soon,” Zijin said, dismissing the older Iyrman. However, in his heart, he wondered how well the Iyr would fare at the end of the war.

Asa had been kind to the Iyrmen thus far, no doubt not wishing to rock the boat too much, but it wasn’t just Asa who had chosen to defend King Merryweather. Another figure had also made his bed with the King of the South, a figure which was familiar with rituals of death and blood.

Zijin kept an eye on Adam until the day of the twin’s birthday, wondering if perhaps he had done something which had caused the war to shift.