The razor glided across his jaw, wiping away the hair as though it were cream. He could feel the rough hands of his Aunt against his smooth skin, the woman dipping the razor into the water, before continuing to follow the contours of the young half elf’s face. She dabbed his face with the damp towel, before applying the lotion and oils across his face. Finally, she carefully painted the symbol of the Rot family onto the young half elf’s forehead.
Adam, who had bathed three times that day though it had yet become noon, finally slipped into his fine clothing, much looser than the clothing he was used to, and black like the starless sky. Sonarot placed the long cloth over his shoulder, which lay upon his shoulder heavier than he expected, but not quite as his heavy as the responsibilities he’d receive soon. The cloth was filled with the blues of the skies and seas, and patterned with all manner of different symbols, many of which had been chosen by Sonarot who had commissioned the cloth from the Iyr.
Adam stepped out of the inner section of the fort to notice all the business folk staring at him. He flushed a deep red, though he was glad Jurot stood outside to wait for him too, adorned identically to the half elf. Jurot glanced across Adam’s scarf to see how different it would be, though he spotted no difference at all. He let out a sigh of relief, the shadow of a smile across his lips.
“Look at this handsome guy,” Adam said, reaching out to shake his brother’s forearm. Whereas Adam’s hair had been cut rather short around the sides, Jurot’s hair had only been trimmed neatly at the edges, his hair falling down to his shoulders.
“You look good,” Jurot said, the pair half embracing one another. Jurot’s heart began to beat quickly, and he could feel the temperature within his body raise as he realised the next steps they would be taking. He was glad they were taking the steps together.
The Iyr had moved swiftly over the last few weeks, though much of the village had been built for the weddings earlier this month. All across the land, Iyrmen roamed the edges, making sure the wedding ran smoothly, with teen Iyrmen moving about within the village to deal with the guests to make sure they were taken care of.
Adam spotted Vonda sitting towards the edge of one side of the stage, while Pam sat across the other. The pair wore loose black clothing, with similar cloths over their shoulders. Vonda’s, however, was white and pink, rather than the myriad of blues the other’s were. Adam’s children, too, wore clothing of the Rot family’s blues, each sitting beside their soon to be mother. They could feel all the gazes of the Iyrmen about them, so they hid behind the woman, who enjoyed their attention. Konarot remained sitting towards the centre, slightly away, waiting for her father.
Adam stepped up atop the stage, feeling the sweat upon his body. He smiled towards Vonda, glancing a moment towards Pam, nodding towards her, before he sat towards one side of the centre, while his brother dropped down beside him. It was then sound began to ease its way within his ears, the gentle music finally pushing through his nerves.
Adam wrapped an arm around Konarot, pulling her close for a moment, trying to gather his courage. He glanced down towards his eldest daughter, smiling towards her, the girl smiling back as she embraced her father. He glanced aside to his children, who quickly swarmed around him, embracing each of them tenderly. Then, finally, his eyes fell to Vonda.
She wore her burn marks with pride, contrasting the blue make up across her face, from her deep blue lips, to the design from the corners of her eyes, and the marks on her forehead which matched Adam’s and Pam’s. Her nails were painted blue too, much to Mother Florence’s chagrin, though she had relented since it was the Ray’s wedding.
“You-,” Adam began, before feeling his throat close up. He swallowed, trying to deal with the brick of nerves within his throat.
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“You look wonderful, beautiful.”
“You look so handsome too,” Vonda replied, her face turning crimson to match Adam’s.
Jurot’s ears twitched and he finally turned to face Pam, who noted movement from her peripheral. “You are as beautiful as always.” Jurot’s voice was a firm as his axe, though his heart thundered within his chest.
Pam turned red, her brows raised in surprise. Her heart beat quickly too. “You look great.”
Sonarot took her place beside Mirot, who sat with the rest of the Rot family behind the brides and grooms. “Thank you.”
“You have raised Jurot well,” Mirot replied, handing Larot to her sister. The woman had shaved her nephew and had dealt with his markings rather than the boy’s own mother. Yet, even so, Jurot did not seem to mind, even if Sonarot could have marked him first before moving on to Adam, or perhaps she could have started with Adam and then moved on to her own son. Any other way, and it would have meant something, but Jurot took the sacrifice on his shoulders, and certainly, Adam had no idea how much it meant.
Adam spotted many of the Iyrmen he was familiar with, from Argon who had guided him to the Iyr, to Okvar, who had helped him gain medicine for his sick aunt, even Wahruv, who Adam had faced in a spar during a festival. Near the front of the stage, the cousins sat, from the Gaks, the Ools, to the Kans and Jins. Beyond them were Adam’s friends, Dunes and the others, as well as the rest of the higher ups of the business, and then the rest of the business folk. The rest of the extended Rot family sat around the stage, along with Kiara, though Mulrot and Jarot sat beside Sonarot and Mirot and the young children.
Adam hadn’t expected so many Iyrmen to come, noting all those he had sent letters to. He glanced to the side to see Ashmir, who was sitting beside an Iyrman he had only met a couple of weeks ago, Karmin, who had remained eerily silent about his tales, so unlike an Iyrman.
The drums picks up and groups of children from the left, Adam’s right, stood up and make their way onto the stage. They were each holding small sacks in their hands, gifts to be given to the married couples. The children set their gifts in front of the brides and grooms, most bundles of fabric or pieces of pottery. Some had brought small clubs too, though daggers and smaller weapons were brought to Jurot and Pam.
“Who is this handsome fellow?” Adam asked, flashing a smile towards the sour faced boy, who flushed shyly.
“I am Polban, son of Aizaban!”
“Of course, of course, how could I forget?”
Polban narrowed his eyes, before placing down a handaxe before Adam and a book before Vonda, before quickly scurrying away. Vonda watched the boy go, vaguely recognising him and his name.
“Who was the boy?”
“Vice Master Paul’s son,” Adam replied.
“Ah!” The memories returned to Vonda, who watched as the boy left to his mother. ‘Aizaban.’ She recalled the name from one of Adam’s adventures before they met, when he killed Vandra.
Adam reached out towards the handaxe to place it to one side, feeling a slight tingling sensation from the axe. ‘…’ His eyes met Aizaban’s, the woman holding a small smirk on her face.
‘Here I thought we were the only ones to cause trouble.’
The smell of grilled meats and vegetables were brought out, some of which had been lathered with a butter and herb dressing. Fruit was brought to Adam and Vonda, who could not eat meat that day, though she was allowed to sip away at milk. The pair washed their hands, while the children were taken away by the older Jarot.
Vonda fed Adam, and he fed her, sometimes from their fingers, sometimes with their utensils. It was after the main meal that sweet rice was brought out, multicoloured, with bits of cooked fruit. The soft yellow fruit reminded Adam of cherries in both taste and texture, though it looked more like a small yellow tomato.
“You should try this,” Adam said, bringing the fruit to Vonda’s lips, his eyes doing their best not to stare at her opening lips, though her eyes were far more embarrassing to stare at, though he couldn’t pull away from her gaze.
An old Iyrman appeared, whose forehead was covered. She was an ancient Iyrman, who wore a heavy cloak of dark green with a golden hem. Following behind her was another figure, who made his way towards his cousin in the corner, though much of the attention followed him. He was clean shaven, with a strong jaw, a wide, flat nose, and small eyes. He was fairly lean for an older man, dressed in plain silks, a deep grey. At his side lay a longsword, made of a fusion of bone and metal.
“Whose that?” Copper asked.
“I ‘unno.” Penny replied, sticking another piece of fruit into her mouth.
The Shaman stepped onto the stage, which caused the music to stop. She placed her backpack onto a stool which had been brought to her, while the brides and grooms shifted onto their knees before the Shaman Head, while she sat on another stool before her.
The Shaman Head opened up her backpack, bringing out a small vial which was filled with a liquid. She poured a drop into two cups before Adam and Vonda.
“You may share your first drinks,” the Shaman Head said.
Adam and Vonda lifted up the cups together, Adam concentrating on holding the cup as though it were the most precious cup in the world. The pair drank together at the Shaman Head’s Command, and as they shared their first drink, the Shaman hummed a small prayer.
‘Eugh!’ Adam winced from the earthiness of the liquid, which tasted like dirt. He was quickly distracted by the prayer, which spoke of Baktu and Mahtu, and how Baktu was favoured among Mahtu. For a moment he thought the prayer had been changed for them, only to recall hearing their names often during Ashmir’s wedding.
“You may share your first touch.”
The pair shifted together to face one another, holding each other’s forearms. Adam could feel how strong Vonda’s forearms were, and how warm they were to the touch. They stared into one another’s eyes, Adam’s heart pounding wildly within his chest again as he turned red hot, while Vonda’s lips formed a gentle reassuring smile.
‘I’m definitely going to marry you,’ Adam thought, having half forgotten what they were doing.
“You may share your first blood.”
Adam took a moment longer to let go of Vonda’s arm, accepting the freshly forged dagger from the Shaman Head. Adam held out his hand for Vonda to prick his finger, while taking a moment longer to prick hers, doing so gently, so gently he didn’t pierce through her skin. An awkward moment passed, before he less gently pricked Vonda’s finger. All the while, the Shaman Head continued to hum a prayer. She placed a hand on each of their heads, before blowing atop their heads, three times, at the end of each of her prayers.
The Shaman Head took the daggers, but did not say the final four words, going to Jurot, who repeated the process with Pam. Pam winced at the taste of the liquid. Adam noted the prayer was identical to the prayer which he had heard.
Pam felt Jurot’s strong forearms, almost losing herself in their sensation. She had thought Jurot was strong, since his tale was so crazy, but feeling his arms, she realised how safe she was. Jurot felt how thick Pam’s arms were, not built like his, with far less muscle. He inhaled long and hard to calm himself, though he felt his heart slowly losing to Pam’s thickness. Even now, he could not believe he was getting married.
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A tear dropped down the side of Jurot’s cheek, almost imperceptible, though almost imperceptible in front of Iyrmen was more obvious than a blaring siren. Jurot’s heart throbbed for a moment.
‘I wish you were here too, father.’
Jurot’s thoughts were distracted by another who approached the stage, the symbol of Life’s Rose and Mother Soza dangling from her chest, carrying a prayer book within her arms. Mother Florence opened the book and began to pray from it, speaking in a tongue Adam didn’t recognise. She brought out a small vial, pouring each into a clay cup.
As Adam sipped the water, his body tingled and he felt his breath come to him easier. ‘Whoa. What is this, holy water?’
“You may speak your vows.”
Vonda turned to face Adam, taking his hand into her own. She had worked on her vows for so long after she knew they were going to marry. There were so many she had written down, to the point she needed to procure another book.
“I promise to you to be the best wife and mother I can be.”
Adam turned red hot in the face, feeling his heart thunder within his chest once more. “I promise to be the best husband and father I can be.” Adam had written so much more for his vows, but these words were easier to say, and far truer than anything else he had written. He glanced back towards Lanarot, who quickly rushed up to her brother, holding a small box.
“Oof,” she said, opening the box, before the ring fell onto the wood. She gasped, looking up towards her brother.
Adam smiled. “Lanababy, go on.”
Lanarot’s face contorted and she made to cry, while the guests laughed, glancing between one another. Adam embraced her close to his chest, kissing her forehead.
“It’s okay. I’m excited too.” Adam rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, before he wiped her face clean with a cloth. “Let’s take a walk together later, okay? Just you and me?”
“Okay.” The girl sniffled, squatting down to pick up the ring, handing it to her brother.
Adam pulled the girl to her side, embracing her once more, before allowing her to retreat to her mother. Adam held the ring for Vonda, who held out her hand, and he slipped the ring onto her finger.
“You must go for your father,” Sonarot said.
“I want to do it,” Jirot complained.
“It must be your eldest sister.” Sonarot brushed Jirot’s cheek tenderly.
Konarot marched up to Adam, focusing on the box as she opened it, before revealing the ring to Vonda with a sour face.
“Thank you.” Vonda took the ring from the box and the girl looked to her father.
“Do you want to stay?”
The girl nodded. Adam pulled his eldest daughter beside her, rubbing her side tenderly. Jirot stared up expectantly to her grandmother, who nodded.
“Quietly,” Sonarot called after the squealing children, who tackled their father.
Larot sighed, hoisting himself up onto his feet, as though he were an old man, and decided to take his first real steps to sit beside Adam. ‘…’
Adam glanced back to see Larot beside him, and how no one had brought the boy to him. “…” Adam raised his brows towards the boy, wrapping an arm around him too. “What a wonderful gift.”
Vonda smiled, before she placed the ring onto Adam’s finger, taking Larot from his side so he could sit on her lap.
Mother Florence wondered if she should have brought more of the rites, staring down at the demon boy, but she so much time had passed already. She opened her mouth to speak, but paused for a moment, focusing on keeping her throat and eyes clear. “I beseech Mother Soza to watch over her children, Vonda Fate and Adam Fate.”
Upon hearing the words, the Shaman Head spoke up. “May Baktu bless you.”
Jurot inhaled deeply, exhaling once more. He glanced to the side, first to Adam for support, but noted he was busy with Vonda, so he turned to look towards Pam, who had noted where he had looked first. Jurot wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, nuzzling against her neck, having forgotten all the gazes upon him in the most unIyrman fashion.
Lanarot rushed up to Jurot and Pam. “Papa! Kaka!” She whispered with great urgency. She held up two boxes for the pair.
Jurot opened the boxes to find rings within. He glanced towards Pam. She smiled. The pair exchanged rings, and they sat closer together, their fingers intertwining together.
The older Jarot smiled, glancing to the side where his brother and son should have sat. He sipped his wine slowly. ‘Will it rain soon?’ He reached up to hide his eyes, while Mulrot poured him in another cup, and rubbed his back tenderly.
‘Whoa!’ Adam thought, his entire body red hot. ‘I’m married! I’m really married!’ Adam reached up to his eyes, his lips trembling for a moment. A barrage of emotions struck him once. The fact that he had finally married and given his children a mother, the fact that he got to marry beside his brother, the fact that his parents wouldn’t see their eldest son marry, the fact that his children would never know the rest of their family, and nor would his wife.
“Daddy?” Jirot called, before her own lips quivered, and the cascade of children began to cry and they embraced their father.
“Mommy?” Karot asked, staring up at Vonda beside Jarot.
Vonda smiled. She held out his arms. “My children.”
The pair blinked before they embraced their mother, also beginning to cry.
“His children are so loud,” Amokan said, sipping his milk, careful not to drink any alcohol yet.
“Yes,” Timojin replied.
“Spilling a little blood during a wedding is a sign of good fortune,” Amokan said, his eyes meeting Timojin’s.
Soon, steel sang against steel, and the screaming sister’s noisiness filled the air, while a particular Demon Lord enjoyed the hunks fighting away.
“Lanababy, come,” Adam said, hoisting himself up from the stage, taking a moment so his blood could rush through his legs properly.
“Okay!” The girl held her brother’s hand as they left the small village, though several eyes followed them, while a pair followed him.
Adam bit into the cork of the bottle and poured out a bottle of wine into the river. He stopped when there was still some left. “Here, pour this out.”
Lanarot first brought it to her lips, but Adam quickly grabbed the bottle and tickled her nose. “Pour it out, you smelly girl, it’s for your baba.”
“Baba?” Lanarot asked.
“Yeah.” Adam nodded. Lanarot poured the bottle into the river, dropping the bottle into it. “Your baba was really strong. He used to fly with you all across the river. Do you remember?”
The girl shook her head, her hair bouncing slightly before she swiped it away from her face. “Where is baba?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yeah. He’s gone.” Adam lifted the girl up into his arms, feeling the gazes of a pair behind him. He held the girl close to his chest, kissing her forehead. “I’ll tell you more about your baba later, okay?”
“Okay. When baba come back, I say hello.”
“Right.” Adam kissed her cheek, holding her close for a long moment, before he stepped away from the river towards the pair who had followed him out.
“Why did you take her to spill the wine?” Stokmar asked.
“Strom liked her the most,” Adam replied.
“You are so sentimental.”
“Yeah.”
Stokmar glanced towards the girl for a moment, who eyed the Lord of Earth up, her eyes curious. She thought of his other children. “I hope you do not provoke the wrath of the Divine.”
“I’m sure that, right now, I'll be unable to play with the Divine for long if they want to come here and have a go,” Adam joked, mostly.
“Right now? Do you believe you can possess power to surpass the Divine?”
“If I wanted to, I'm sure I could.”
“If the gods came down to hunt you, you would stand no chance.” Stokmar could feel something within them stir, but they dared not make a move while Adam held the girl, especially with the Chief so close, and so many of the others who were tasked to watch her.
“Lord Stokmar, did you know?” Adam’s lips formed a small smile. “Even Gods have stats.”
‘So this is what you meant, Hadda.’
Adam returned with Lanarot, who eventually rushed over to her mother. “Jirot, Jarot, come.”
The goblins rushed up to their father, hugging his legs, before glancing up towards the short and stout figure.
“Do you know who this is?”
“Load Stokmar,” Jirot accused.
“That’s right.”
“Stuhrong?”
Adam glanced towards Lord Stokmar.
“You two are growing well,” Stokmar said, holding out their hand, before the pair rose up with the earth, causing them to gasp. Stokmar brushed their heads gently. “Since you are children of the earth, you must grow well.”
“I am daddy’s dohta,” the girl said, hugging her father closer.
“I am daddy’s son,” Jarot added.
“That’s right!” Adam lifted the pair up, embracing them tight within his arms. “I love you both so much.” He peppered them with all manner of kisses.
Lord Stokmar glanced towards Rajin, who was currently sitting off to the side with the Mad Dog and the others. “It is time for drinks.” Lord Stokmar almost glided away.
“Did you see? That’s Lord Stokmar.”
“Stuhrong?” Jirot asked.
“Yes, very.”
“Chief is big, so Chief is stuhrong?”
“The Chief might be bigger, but Lord Stokmar is stronger.”
Jirot looked to the Chief, who nodded. “I am Demon Load, so I am stuhronger, okay?”
Iromin reached out to brush the twins’ hair, before stepping away. “I must watch over Lord Stokmar.”
“I did not bully, daddy,” Jirot said, pouting.
“The Chief is working,” Adam said, smiling as the Chief left.
Iromin sat opposite his cousin, their eyes meeting for a moment. “What happened to your eye.”
“Eyegorger took it from me.”
“What is it now?”
“An urtur mage created this eye from sand.”
Iromin slowly nodded.
“Congratulations on becoming the Chief,” Karmin said, pouring his cousin a drink.
“Congratulations on gaining your vengeance,” Iromin said, pouring his cousin a drink. “Have you come to take the place among the One Hundred?”
“I will if it is the Iyr’s wish.” Karmin continued to sip at the drink. “This eye of mine can see much.”
“What can it see?”
“I resisted the urge to kill the boy since he is under the Rot family’s protection.”
“You cannot kill him. He is under my watch.”
“Can you handle it.”
“He is easy to control, but hard to handle,” Iromin admitted.
Karmin poured his cousin a drink. “I will not lay a hand upon him, but if it is required, you may call for me.”
Iromin bowed his head. He had two Paragons assigned to killing Adam already, but a third would be good to use. Adam’s growth was still alarming, so he supposed perhaps another Paragon should be assigned to him, just in case.
Sitting atop a distant hill, a woman sipped away at her drink, before pouring the red snake a drink. “I should go pour a drink for father too.”
The red snake did not refuse the woman, who floated away towards the river, and poured her father a drink, watching as the wine dissipated into the river. She thought about going to meet the half elf that day, but her appearance may have caused the other business fellows to remember her, and her presence could bring rumours.
The day continued to pass with merriment and joy. Adam enjoyed his time speaking with his friends and family, and all the Iyrmen who he had met. Jurot also spoke their tale, with Adam and Vonda adding in insights to the journey, while Pam listened intently. She had heard the tale thus far, but hadn’t yet heard everything from start to finish.
Of course, Adam showed off his children as much as he could, and Lucy complained about the year’s mess in which she couldn’t act up.
“Are all weddings this relaxing?” Morkarai asked, pouring Adam a tiny amount of wine within his minuscule cup.
“I guess so?” Adam glanced around to all the other figures who were enjoying their food and talking to one another. “I hadn’t expected so many people to come to the wedding.”
“Two weddings should have at least this many guests.”
“How many guests are going to come to your wedding?”
“Thousands,” Morkarai assumed. “We will invite many nobles of all the neighbouring lands, even Aldland.”
“Then there’s me?”
“Are you not a noble?”
“Are you picking a fight with me on my wedding?”
Morkarai smiled, pouring Adam another few drops of wine, the half elf sipping away the alcohol. “I wouldn’t dare to.”
“You’ve already bullied me with your gift.”
“What is so wrong about my gift?”
Adam narrowed his eyes. “Just you wait until your marriage. I’m going to bully you so much.”
“I will await for it.” Morkarai grinned wide, his beard flowing out like roaring flames.
Adam spoke with the rest of his guests, thanking them for their appearance at the wedding, and for all the gifts they had brought.
As the sun began to set, the brides and grooms retired to the fort, heading back to their inner area, while their family members dealt with the gifts.
“No?” Jirot asked with a pout.
“You can sleep with me tonight,” the older Jarot said, holding the girl close.
“Jirot, Jarot, do you want to sleep with me?” Jaygak asked, daring to tease the Mad Dog.
“Kako!” the pair replied, charging up to her.
The one armed Iyrman growled quietly. “Come, Larot.”
Konarot, Kirot and Karot followed their grandaunt, who took them away. Sonarot remained for a long moment. A figure stepped out from the darkness, sitting opposite the woman.
“Thank you for coming.”
“My niece’s son was to marry,” Dogek replied, pouring his niece a drink. “I hope he will have many children for you.”
“I already have so many grandchildren, but I would like more.”
“So it is said.”
Sonarot frowned. “Will you refuse them even now?”
“It is the official position of the Gek family as the Family Elder.”
“What of the Family Head?”
“She has accepted them.”
“I hope you will change your mind.” Sonarot stood, leaving Dogek alone.
“She will not take it to heart,” called a weak voice, as Rirot took her place where Sonarot once sat. The old woman was as thin as pencil, her bones almost seen through her skin. Her one good eye seemed to strain to see Dogek.
“…” Dogek did not reply, instead sharing a drink with the old woman, who looked like she would die with any passing breath.
“Even if the Gek family will not officially accept them, the Rot family already has.” The old woman sipped away at the drink, barely able to taste the sweet peach the Rot family so adored.
“That is your family’s choice to make.”
Rirot smiled, leaning back within her chair, feeling it against her thin back. “I had heard they were originally refused.”
“The first refusal was not on appropriate grounds.”
“Is yours upon appropriate grounds?”
“Yes. We do not refuse them because they are goblins or half dragons, we refuse them because we do not acknowledge the vague relationship of Adam and the Iyr.”
“Okay,” the old woman replied, closing her good eye, sipping her drink in the awkward silence.
It was late in the night when Adam and Vonda held hands. Their eyes grew heavy with tiredness, and though sleep wanted to invade, especially after their night together, they forced it away.
“I suppose it’s time I tell you everything.”
Vonda smiled, drawing closer to Adam, as the pair embraced and Adam began to speak of his secrets. Her warmth staved away the chill of danger from his words. Vonda had thought she couldn’t be shocked by Adam, but she realised how wrong she was.
Although, wasn’t it very Adam like for her to be shocked when she thought she couldn’t be shocked any more?
That wasn’t shocking in the slightest.