“Adam,” Elder Zijin said, finishing up with his paperwork for the morning. “How may I assist you?”

“I was wondering, could I get a spell scroll for a certain spell?” Adam asked. “Rather than paying me the gold for the Basic weapons, I’d like to get scrolls for some spells.”

“Which spell?”

“Find Steed.” Adam paused for a moment as the Elder waited. “It’s so that we can move a little swifter while we’re out an about, or to have a an extra… mount around for stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“You know. Carrying stuff for us. If we’re in combat, it’s an extra body. That sort of thing.”

“You should be careful being so reliant on magic, or magical steeds.”

“Yeah, I know, but I think having it as an option might be good. The plan was to make a figurine which could cast the spell, once per week, or when it’s refilled, but having a few spell scrolls on hand would be nice.”

Zijin remained silent for a long moment, before bowing his head slowly. Adam had enchanted so many weapons, but he also possessed the ability to enchant much more. “Very well.”

“Thank you.”

Adam continued to alternate between working and taking a break, though on a particular day, the third of the month, he took a moment before heading to work to call out to a particular Iyrman.

Nirot held the axe in hand, feeling the strange tingling sensation at the handle. “What is it?”

“It’s an axe that I made a while ago,” Adam said. “I had it enchanted for your birthday. You just turned eighteen, and back where I’m from, that means you’re an adult.”

Nirot narrowed her eyes towards the Half Elf. “Yes?”

“I, uh… I’ve been giving everyone else great gifts, but you’re my Cousin too, Nirot.”

“Yes.”

“Well, enjoy your day.” Adam excused himself, heading to work.

Nirot stared at the axe in hand. It was a magical axe, that was for certain, but she had no idea what it did. However, it seemed to be a Basic item, otherwise she would have felt a greater tingle from the handle. She reached into her torso pocket and pulled out a small bracelet, one which her brothers had made and had gifted to her earlier in the day. She rubbed along the smooth metals, before wrapping it around her axe, swapping her mundane axe at her side with the magical axe.

The days continued to pass. Snow continued to blanket the Iyr. Adam continued to spoil the children.

“How can you keep them away from me even on this day?” the older Iyrman asked.

“We’re going to explore the festival and eat,” Adam replied, standing in front of his five children, as though to protect them from their greatfather’s affection.

“My Jirot and Jarot are bundled up so adorably, yet you would deny me my rights?”

“I have rights too, as their father.”

“What of my rights as their greatfather?”

Adam and Jarot both faced off against one another, their eyes glued to one another. The distant music revealed the festival was already underway, with some of the teens working to assist with general labour.

“Babo,” Little Jarot called.

“My boy,” Jarot called back, chuckling with adoration towards his greatson.

Little Jarot, wrapped up as much as he was, shook slightly as he giggled and squealed at his greatfather. He hoisted out his arms, waiting for his greatfather to pick him up, his eyes lit up with joy.

Jarot tried to kneel to pick up his son, but it was awkward with his wooden leg. Adam hoisted the boy up, placing him onto his greatfather’s torso, which Little Jarot wrapped himself around. Jarot wrapped his arm around the boy and held him close, leaning in to nuzzle his nose. “How can you do this to me, my boy? Why do you not come to see me?”

Little Jarot cackled lightly before he embraced his grandfather’s neck, struggling to wrap his arms around the older man’s thick neck. It was still well muscled, even after a whole season in which he could not walk as much as he wished.

“Babo!” Jirot shouted, pouting up at her greatfather.

“I did not forget you, my girl,” Jarot assured, before offering the boy back to his father, who helped him down. “Come. Let us explore and eat.”

“Num num,” Jirot confirmed, while her greatfather ruffled her hair, embracing her lightly for a moment before he held her hand.

Adam spent the first day of the festival with his family, that of his children, brother, sisters, and the old man. Jurot kept an eye on the young girl, while Jarot watched over the twins with Adam’s assistance, and each vaguely watched over the triplets, who behaved sensibly.

Adam ate well that day, not just because all they did was eat, but also because the twins kept feeding their greatfather with their hands. The triplets also fed their father from their hands, and Adam placed a hand on their heads. They wore slightly thinner clothing than the rest, enjoying the cold more than the other children. Adam had noted that the triplets slept more often during nightval, though were also more energetic, playing furiously for hours at a time before napping for hours at a time.

Adam spent the second day of the festival with the other children, with their elder siblings also watching over them. From Taygak to Kitool, they each enjoyed their time with their one year old siblings, who sometimes cried for their mothers and aunts, but were often soothed by their older siblings, or Adam.

Adam watched over the one year olds as they slept within the estate for nap time. His eyes fell across the tiny forms, though they were missing Inakan. He thought back to when she was taken away by her father, the man informing Adam he had completed the task of handing the weapons over to the Guild for Rose and the others. Even then, Adam was still upset she was taken away from him, but understood Inakan needed more rest than the other children.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

‘You punks,’ Adam thought, sighing lightly. ‘Don’t you worry. Inakan, even if you’ll be the weakest, I’ll be sure to make you into a Paragon if you want it.’

Adam blinked.

‘No. You should remain cute like this forever.’

Adam spent the days of the festival with his companions, extended family, and even spent a day with Vonda.

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted to her question. “I think I’m fine.”

Vonda poured Adam another cup of fruit wine, allowing the Half Elf to stare into it in thought. Adam had definitely changed, for he hadn’t spent most waking days working, but rather only worked half the time at worst. That alone had signalled that Adam had changed from the previous years, when he had spent almost his entire days working, even when he had children.

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted again. “I think… I think I’m just waiting for it.”

“For what?”

“It,” Adam stated, this time far more seriously. “Something’s going to happen. Something. To me, or to my friends, or to my… family.”

Vonda placed a hand over Adam’s, her rough palms squeezing around the back of his hand. “The Iyr has Baktu to watch over it.”

“I’m not sure that stating the God of Death watches over the Iyr is going to reassure me that much,” Adam joked, flashing a small smile. “I think…” Adam reached up to his amulet, feeling how cool it was. “Well, I guess… I guess if something happens, then something happens, and I’ll have to deal with it then.”

“Rivers need to flood for one to eat,” Vonda said, smiling warmly towards her.

“Sometimes you have to bury…” Adam paused, catching her expectant gaze. “Yeah. Right.”

Umbra sipped her own wine, feeling the warmth fill her body. She remained laying on the roofs of the Iyr, feeling the gazes of the shadows watching her. Even after all this time, several Iyrmen, each Masters, watched over her. ‘The Iyr is so cautious.’ She thought back to how they had come into being, and understood the Iyr’s extremities. Then she thought of Adam, and how much he was worrying. She supposed she couldn’t blame the Half Elf, since he was worried about the Chaos all around him.

“Do you think I’m a good dad, Vonda?” Adam asked, sipping his wine slowly, his eyes firmly fixed within the young woman’s eyes.

“I think you’re a very loving father,” Vonda replied. “I believe that is good.”

“I’m very fortunate that I have everyone around me. People like you, and Dunes, and of course,” Adam said, waving his hand around himself, “the Iyr, the Rot family, so on and so on.”

“Yes, you are,” Vonda replied, almost smirking towards the Half Elf. “There are times where you alone cannot fix something, and you know that.”

“Do I?”

“You step back for the Iyr.”

“I step back for the Iyr because I don’t want to die.”

“That is good enough.”

“I don’t know. That just seems… I wouldn’t say someone was smart or wise if they stepped back when the Iyr asked them to.”

“Some do not step back,” Vonda said, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, and then death follows,” Adam said, noting the thoughts in her eyes. “I don’t like killing, really.”

“I know.”

Adam remained silent for a long moment. “What about you, Vonda? Do you think you’re a good dad?”

Vonda tilted her head slightly, confused. “Are you saying that I am a man with how I behave?”

Adam raised his brows, surprised she had thrown the joke back at him. “You’re so brutal when you need to be, Vonda.” Adam chuckled, pouring her more wine. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’d make a good dad.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Vonda replied, sipping her wine.

‘No wonder he loves his children so much, he’s so terrible at flirting,’ Umbra thought.

During nightval, the festival was in the third week of the last month, Allowing the Iyrmen a week to prepare for the thirteenth month, the Twilight Month. However, Adam was not focused on that, instead he was focused on giving each child a finely made dagger.

“Don’t look at me like that, Murot,” Adam said, causing the boy to laugh towards him, before the tiny boy sucked against his hand. “How was I meant to know you were going to be born this year? I would have bought more for you.”

Sonarot was surprised Adam’s gifts were so tame. A finely made dagger was a decent gift, since almost all Iyrmen carried a dagger with them, regardless of their family weapon. She had expected Adam to do something ridiculous, and as that thought passed within her mind, she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Adam yawned, stretching out his muscles, before he was commandeered by Lanarot to read her a story. He sat on the blanket, ready to read her a bedtime story, one of the Rot family.

Sonarot blinked. ‘He will not say something ridiculous?’

“Daddy!” Jirot pointed up at him, her finger accusatory.

“Yes?”

“Weading book!”

“Yes, I’m about to do that.”

“Okay.” Jirot narrowed her eyes, waiting for a moment, before she shuffled up beside him. Jarot sat beside her and stared up at his father expectantly. The triplets gathered around too, but almost immediately fell asleep, snoozing lightly.

Adam smiled and read for the children. Still, Sonarot waited, and waited, and waited. Yet, as she stared at the dark ceiling, hearing the light snoring of her family nearby, she closed her eyes.

‘…’

She wasn’t sure how she felt about Adam maturing.

Adam spent much of the last week with his children, taking them daily to the extended family estate. The twins loved to play with their babo and the Demons, with the rest of the extended family also enjoying their company.

The triplets did not come as often, spending their time sleeping. The Shamans had checked on the children to make sure there was nothing wrong with them, but as far as they could gather, not being experts on Half Dragons, the triplets seemed fine.

‘I made quite a lot from the flaming swords,’ Adam thought. His cut was much lower than he expected, almost losing a third of it, but he didn’t mind much. The Iyr had taken a little more, having informed Adam they were going to do so, but he had almost doubled his money so he didn’t mind much. The Elder had also gifted several scrolls to the Half Elf, which he was more than happy to accept.

The Iyr never forgets.

Elder’s Zijin’s words remained ingrained within his mind. It was a vague sense of hope, a hope which Adam prayed would come into effect if something happened to him. There was of course the Rot family, but it was always nice to have extra insurance, just in case.

“Adam,” Jaygak called, causing the Half Elf to stir from his thoughts. “Elder Zijin is calling for you.”

Adam hoisted himself up, doffing his children, before he patted the snow off his back. “Well, if the Elder’s calling for me, I suppose I should go and see him.”

Jirot glared up at her father, as if daring him to leave. Adam glared back at her, narrowing his eyes at her. Jirot huffed, pointing up at him. Adam pointed back down towards her. Jirot gasped, before looking up towards Jaygak, rushing towards her leg. She pouted towards her horned aunt.

“I know,” Jaygak said, picking the girl up. “How can he do this?”

Jirot hugged Jaygak, glancing away from her father, refusing to look at him.

“I’ll be back soon, Jibaby,” Adam said, making his way out.

“No!”

Adam smiled.

Elder Zijin, for once, had just a single black book on the table. It was a nondescript black book, though it did seem out of place, and ominous to the Half Elf.

“Elder Zijin,” Adam called.

“Take a seat, Adam.”

Adam did so, only pausing for a moment, before he dropped down ahead of the Elder. Adam made to speak, but something told him to keep his mouth shut, a gently tingle at the back of his head. ‘Am I dying today?’

Elder Zijin remained silent. Moments passed. “I have asked you if you wished to grow stronger many times.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, vaguely remembering how many times Elder Zijin had asked him if he wanted to grow stronger. After his defeat to Shama, and what with him becoming a father, Adam had thought about it often. Shama was strong. No, he was insurmountable, stronger than any Iyrman Adam had ever met, and Adam had met plenty of Iyrmen who could kill him.

Adam thought back to Shama. The fight which he had instantly fallen. The fight which had killed Lucy. The fight which had almost killed the teen Iyrmen. The fight which had lost him Wizard’s Axe, Wraith’s predecessor. He thought back to how Shama had then arrived at the Iyr, and nothing was done. He thought back to how Shama had even tried to cause trouble in the Iyr. He thought back to how Sonarot had admonished Adam and Jurot for being rude to a guest, a guest who had killed their friend.

Adam thought back to how Sonarot had the gall to then admonish the Emperor, then to the Chief stating that the Iyr was always up to fight even someone like him, and then the strange Iyrman who had appeared to watch over the Emperor.

‘No,’ Adam thought, thinking of the Emperor.

If Shama was an insurmountable mountain, then the Iyr was the sky beyond.

With all it’s resources. With all it’s warriors. With all it’s secrets.

“Yeah,” Adam stated, more confidently this time.