Katool lifted up her yawning sister, Jitool, who blinked sleeping and stared up at her older sister. The young girl leaned in to kiss her little sister’s forehead, causing the little girl to smile, before Jitool placed her head against her sister’s shoulder.

“Is it time for sleeping?” Adam asked, looking over towards the young children who were all in varying stages of sleep, with Inakan completely passed out in her father’s arms.

“It is time for sleeping, not hugging,” Katool accused, narrowing her eyes at Adam.

“I’m allowed to hug them, I’m their Cousin,” Adam stated.

“I am Jitool’s sister,” Katool replied firmly, hugging her sister a little tighter, before she turned and carried her sister away.

“Katool is almost as wise as you, Kitool,” Adam said, frowning slightly. “I can’t believe you’ve corrupted her like this.”

Kitool knew it was best to ignore Adam so he could wallow in the awkwardness, so picked up Maool and took her to her home.

Adam sighed, glancing around at the others, who were trying to assist their siblings. Raygak had picked up Kavgak, and Taygak was holding Tavgak, planting a wet kiss against her forehead. Gurot was carried about by his mother, while Naqokan lifted her sister up.

The youngest babies were all taken away to sleep already. They slept in their own section outside of the shared family so that they would not be disturbed, and so the adults could take watch over the night. The extended family also assisted, allowing the main family to function properly even with so many needy children.

Jirot had fallen asleep during the story, her head resting against her grandmother’s bosom, and her brother had fallen asleep in the same way. The triplets had remained awake, and though they were yawning, they didn’t seem too tired. Konarot’s eyes were glued to a beetle nearby, and she whispered quietly to it, sometimes even telling it to be quiet during the story.

The older Jarot remained silent as he ruminated on the story, thinking about what had happened to his grandchildren. To think the youngsters had managed to enter a new world, seemingly a dying realm with dying Gods, and not only survived, but found Lord Strom’s daughter? That Lord Strom?

Jarot thought about Lord Strom, who he had personally faced, along with Otkan. The pair who had faced the old man seemed to be the ones to lose their limbs. Jarot looked towards Adam for a moment, but realised that both the Chief and Shaool no doubt retained their limbs. ‘No, it cannot be.’ Whatever had happened that day, it wasn’t due to Adam, it was due to their own weakness. He could feel Otkan trying to catch his eyes, but he refused to entertain the thought.

The others began to leave, but Jarot glanced towards a pair. “Turot, Asorot, come.”

The boys almost jolted upright upon hearing Jarot’s voice, turning to face the old one armed and one legged Iyrman. They stepped towards him cautiously.

Jarot reached up towards Turot’s head first, rubbing it gently, before his eyes met Asorot’s. “Is Adam treating you well?”

“Yes,” the boy replied, slowly bowing his head, too shy to stand tall in front of the older Iyrman.

“If he bullies you, you must tell your grandfather. I will deal with him.”

“Okay…” Asorot squirmed, bowing his head a little more as the old man rubbed his head.

“I will tell you my tale tomorrow, but you must first sleep well, okay?”

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“Okay.”

“Go, and Turot, take good care of your younger brother,” Jarot said, feeling his throat clog up slightly. “You must do so, do you understand?”

“Okay!” Turot replied, almost letting out a snort.

“If you say so, it must be true,” Jarot replied, watching as the pair of boys left. ‘You must be a better brother than I, Turot.’

“Meeting one of the Divine is a great boon,” Gangak said, reaching out to the returning Jaygak, rubbing her head. “You have all done well to bring a great story back to the Iyr.”

“I’m sure it’s not as good as your story,” Adam replied. “I heard you guys got up to some trouble, and then…” Adam raised his brows, trying not to speak about the elephant in the room.

“Your story is much better,” Jarot confirmed. “It is the tale of my grandsons, so it is best.”

“It is a fine story,” Gangak said.

“Fine story? It is a great story.”

“Yes, a great, fine story.”

“It is the greatest story,” Jarot stated as firmly as he could. “Your granddaughter cut Adam down with Stormdrake in hand.”

Gangak thought for a long moment. “Is it the greatest story.” She smiled, rubbing Jaygak’s head again.

“I’m not sure how I feel about me getting beaten being the measurement of how good a story is,” Adam grumbled quietly.

Konarot looked up towards Jaygak with a frown, before she hugged her father’s leg. Kirot did the same, though Karot hesitated. He glanced to the side at first, before he finally hugged his father’s leg.

“Your father is strong,” Jurot said to his nieces and nephew. “It required the three of we Iyrmen to defeat him.”

“Your uncle is pretty strong too,” Adam said, wondering how to word it. “He faced me when I was at my strongest, and then immediately after fought Jonn, who was empowered. Even I would have lost to Jonn.”

“Cannot,” Konarot said, hugging her father’s leg, trying to resist the urge to yawn.

“Let me put the triplets to sleep and you can tell us your tale,” Adam said, lifting Konarot up with a groan, allowing her to wrap herself around his torso, before he grabbed the other pair within each arm, and carried them off to bed, their tails swaying behind them.

“First place,” Jarot said, looking to Jurot. “Well done.”

“It is only because of Phantom,” Jurot replied.

“It was you who wielded the axe,” Jarot stated, reaching up to brush his grandson’s hair, the boy bowing his head to allow easier access. “They also gave their own First Ice, and you did not wield Strong Shield, though you had every right.”

“Kitool stepped back and allowed me to win,” Jurot said.

“Do not forget,” Jarot stated.

“We Iyrmen never forget.”

“The Iyr never forgets,” Jarot confirmed, pouring his grandson a drink, some peach wine which the youth had brought for the older group.

Jurot sipped the drink slowly, staring at his grandfather. ‘He is like then,’ Jurot thought. Since that day, Jarot had been so different.

It began to rain lightly.

Once Adam returned, childless, he sat opposite the older Iyrmen, and the younger trio. They sat under a wooden frame which kept the rain from falling atop them, which the teens had set up, only to leave them since it was not yet time for them to hear the tale.

“Adam,” Jarot called.

“Yeah?”

“In the next tournament, even if you face the Prince himself, do not surrender first place,” Jarot said. “I will deal with the fallout.”

“I’m pretty sure they’d slit my throat by the time the moon rises,” Adam replied. “They’re Aldishmen.”

“You are strong enough to deal with the assassins they would send, and Jurot would hear of it,” Jarot replied, as though it were truly that simple.

“What if they cast Silence?”

“He would hear the quiet,” Jarot said, and Jurot nodded. “It would be a good story for you to tell.”

“Only if I live.”

“If you die, the story will return to the Iyr.”

“You just want me to die so you can keep my children for yourself,” Adam accused, glaring up at the old man.

“…” Jarot remained silent for a short while, deep in thought. “Is that so wrong?”

“Of course it’s wrong!” Adam thought about whether he should beat the old man, but losing to him with one arm was embarrassing enough, and now he’d beat the old man when he was crippled. ‘Is he doing it on purpose?’

“Stop bullying your grandson,” Gangak said. “He has given you five greatchildren, and you wish for him to die before he gives you ten?”

Jarot hummed quietly. “You are right.”

“That’s right, shouldn’t I be your favourite since I gave you five greatchildren?” Adam asked.

“My favourite what?” Jarot asked.

“Your favourite, uh, brother of your grandson.”

“You are the only brother of my grandson.”

“There’s Asorot too, he’s a brother of your grandson, and so is Turot, and so is…” Adam realised if he said more, it would state that he was the old man’s grandson too. “Hold on, my greatchildren are your favourite greatchildren, right?”

“Yes.”

“They are grandfather’s only greatchildren,” Jurot said.

“No need to be jealous, Jurot,” Adam said, patting his back. “I’m sure your children will be his favourite too, one day.”

Jurot narrowed his eyes slightly, and once the mood was lifted, they shared more drinks and ate more food, before the older Iyrmen finally finally began the tale.