“Asorot, come,” Jarot called, embracing the boy who had been adopted into his family. “Have you been well?”

“Yes,” Asorot replied, sitting beside his grandfather.

‘What’s he doing here?’ Adam though, returning back from enchanting for the day. Then he glanced to the side, noting another figure who hadn’t spent much time here either.

“Hey, Wazool,” Adam said, noting the boy for the second time that year. ‘Even worse than Filliam and Tariel, I almost forgot about him.’ Adam glanced aside to Jurot, who seemingly had finished work early that day, and was spending his time with his grandfather at the shared family estate.

“Adam,” the boy replied.

“Cousin Adam,” Katool stated. “You cannot say such things, cousin Wazool.”

Wazool let out a long sigh. The little girl was the sister of the one who had managed to bring him to the Iyr for safety, so he had to be careful with his words towards his benefactors.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adam said, glancing between the boy, who now had sun kissed hair and blue eyes. He swore the boy had looked differently last time, but couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He looked vaguely familiar too, and while he was trying to connect the dots, he cut them off. ‘This feels like dangerous knowledge, so I probably shouldn’t peer in too deeply.’

Konarot snoozed beside her greatfather, before she sniffed the air, noting her father had returned. She forced herself to wake up, and sat upright, blinking away her sleepiness, before she stared up towards the Half Elf. Seeing that he was thinking, she leaned over beside her greatfather, and then fell back to sleep.

“Adam,” Jurot called, sipping on some wine from opposite his grandfather, with the twins only slightly beyond him, also snoozing lightly. “The war is considered over.”

“It is?” Adam asked, sitting opposite his brother, accepting a small cup of wine.

“The negotiations for peace have begun, the Order of Life’s Rose has sent some of their warriors to assist.”

“So an order from East Aldland is trying to negotiate peace between its country and…”

“Floria,” Jurot stated.

“Floria?”

“It was the old name given to the southern lands, before the time of Kal Blakvatr,” Jurot stated.

“What was that, more than two thousand years ago?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

“Damn. So he’s trying to invoke the name of the kingdom when they were free last time? King Merryweather isn’t messing around. I’m surprised he managed to end the war quickly, no matter the reason.”

“Floria and Aswadasad have formed a union, the Union of Black and Green,” Jurot said. “Black for the Aswadian Shendom, and Green for the Kingdom of Floria.”

“Feels a bit racially charged,” Adam joked.

“…”

“Nothing.”

“The black is for the name of the shendom.”

“Oh?”

“The Black Dragon Shendom.”

“Oh. I feel like I knew that, actually.” Adam narrowed his eyes. “End of the war, eh? Didn’t last very long.”

“It was not expected to last long,” Jurot confirmed. “It is a large blow for King Blackwater and Shen Asad.”

“Asad?”

“Shen Hussun Asad,” Jurot stated.

“Oh, I didn’t realise that was his name,” Adam admitted, realising he hadn’t asked for the name of the Shen this entire time. He always just knew the figure as the Shen, and that was that. “So, what do you think is going to happen?”

“There will be a tentative peace for many years,” Jurot said. “King Merryweather will increase his fleet, and will focus on creating a defensive force for his kingdom. King Blackwater will reorganise his army, since it was so ineffective during the war.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I thought he was doing well?” Adam said.

“King Merryweather aimed for a single large victory from the beginning,” Jurot stated, thinking about how the war had developed. “With Lord Asa, there was little chance the Aldish could defeat the Florians by nightval. Lord Asa had whittled down the Aldishmen’s forces, and since the Aldish had only begun forming their soldiers, they were caught unaware by such a great foe.”

“Didn’t the Iyr tell them about him?” Adam asked. “Wasn’t he kicking it in the Iyr?”

“We promised to assist with a hundred warriors,” Jurot said, and left it at that.

“Right.” Adam remained quiet for a short while, thinking about what had happened. “It’s a good thing we didn’t get caught by the war.”

“It would have been a good fight.”

“I’d rather not face someone like Asa,” Adam admitted. “Once is enough, for now. Maybe when I’m a Paragon or something, then I might want to have a go, but even then…” Adam thought about how both Okvar and Rasam, both great warriors even in the Iyr, barely were able to scratch Shama before he then beat pretty much all of Adam’s companions. ‘Maybe I need to be stronger than a Paragon?’

Jurot thought about how his grandfather had so eagerly faced Asa before losing his leg to the Blood Knight. Had it not been for the fact it was a sneak attack, his grandfather surely would have been fine. Jurot closed his eyes, falling into thought.

‘Stronger,’ the Iyrman thought.

“So, Aldland’s going to accept all that loss of land?” Adam asked.

“They have gained the islands, which seem to hold rare resources,” Jurot said. “The Aldish care for their land, but they care more for gold. Since the commonfolk have not suffered from a tragedy, they will not rebel, and we will not need to assist in quelling the rebellions. The Aldish will twist the victory in their own way, or use it to galvanise greater support for their new army.”

“Right, I guess you’re right,” Adam said, slowly nodding his head.

“The Aldish lost?” Wazool asked.

“They did.”

“What of Western Aldland?” the boy asked, glaring up at the pair.

“They lost since the Aldish lost, though I’m not sure if their warriors were defeated?” Adam looked to Jurot.

“During the last push, they were defeated, but they did not suffer heavy losses.”

Wazool remained silent, full of mixed emotions. Finally, he inhaled deeply. “They should have been killed, the traitors.” He stormed off.

“He really doesn’t like the Florians, eh?”

Jurot decided not to inform Adam that he wasn’t speaking of the Florians, since it was something only few Iyrmen knew.

Gurot tugged on Adam’s pant and stared up at him expectantly, sucking on his dummy. Adam lifted the boy up and sat him on his lap. “Yes, my Gurot?”

Gurot began to mumble against his dummy, before going back to sucking his dummy, staring at the Half Elf expectantly.

“That’s really interesting, actually,” Adam said, slowly nodding his head, brushing the boy’s hair.

Gurot laughed through his dummy, before he hugged his cousin, squealing quietly. Adam smiled and continued to brush the boy’s hair, before leaning in to nuzzle his cheek.

“Gurot,” Jurot called.

Gurot spun his head towards Jurot, blinking towards him. He smiled and hid his head back into Adam’s chest once more.

“You cannot steal him from me,” Adam said, chuckling lightly.

“Gurot, come.”

Gurot looked back towards Jurot, blinking again, before he smiled and held out his arms, almost falling, though Adam grabbed him by his waist. Jurot took the boy from Adam, who whispered to himself quietly about the betrayal, yet he had already forgive his young Cousin.

Jurot brushed the boy’s hair too. The boy who was his cousin, his aunt’s son. She had four sons now, Turot, Asorot, Gurot, and Murot. Turot he understood, for Turot could speak, and even Jurot could tell when the boy was trying to hold in his excitement or a question. Gurot, though? He was too young. Jurot didn’t understand why the boy’s eyes lit up every time he saw his older cousin, or what his blustering babbling meant.

“Gurot,” Jurot said.

Gurot replied with a questioning grunt through his dummy, sucking on it lightly. The boy remained waiting as Jurot thought deeply about what he wanted to say. However, he did not say a word, instead Jurot brought the boy’s head to his chest.

“Hugging,” Lanarot accused, pointing at her older brother.

“That’s right,” Adam replied, before opening his arms out towards her. The girl smiled and rushed up towards her older brother, almost tackling him as they embraced tightly. “You’ve become so big now, Lanarot.”

“Yes,” the girl replied. “Big girl.”

“Big girl, that’s right,” Adam whispered, slowly rocking from side to side as he held his sister.

‘Big girl,’ Jurot thought, staring at his siblings. Then his eyes fell down to Gurot, who had been staring up at the older Iyrman still. “Big boy.”

Gurot smiled once more, and squealed, slowly bouncing on his feet, which were firmly placed on Jurot’s thighs.

“One day, you will grow up, Gurot,” Jurot whispered. “You will be as strong as me.”

Gurot cackled from under his dummy, before he grabbed Jurot’s shirt tightly, bouncing more excitedly.

Jurot continued to brush the boy’s hair gently. Jurot could not recall any memories from when he was as young as Gurot was now. ‘He will not remember.’ Jurot pulled the boy closer to his chest, and leaned in to his ear. He whispered a phrase no Iyrman should whisper, and hoped that, even if the boy did not remember anything, he would at least remember that.

Adam was the only one close enough to hear, and he smiled, sadly. He looked down to his sister, who was reaching up to grab his jaw, squeezing it gently. She could feel the light hair that begun growing, due to the fact it was nightval. “You’re not allowed to, either.” Adam kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry, papa won’t allow it to happen.”

“Papa,” Lanarot confirmed, wrapping her arms around his neck to embrace him tightly.

Jarot sighed, staring out towards his grandsons who sat nearby. He brushed Asorot’s hair, understanding that the boy must still feel out of place here. “Adam,” Jarot called.

“Yeah?”

“Have you made Asorot an axe and shield?”

Adam blinked. “Not yet.”

“You must.”

“I will,” Adam assured, smiling at Asorot. “Axe and shield.”

“Axe and shield,” the boy whispered.

‘Right, I can spoil him too,’ Adam thought, smirking slightly.