The sun shone upon the mountains of the Iyr, basking the Iyrmen in its light. The Iyrmen worked their fields hard, many of whom had left fields of blood outside of the Iyr, but within the Iyr, the home they knew, they worked the fields peacefully. There were many within the Iyr who did not work the fields, however.

The watermill worked hard in dawnval, assisting the Iyrmen in their papermaking. The masons and carpenters checked the various walls and buildings of the Iyr to maintain them. The guards of the Iyr, many unseen, trekked upon the lands to check their trails, with the hope they could find something which had dared to tread upon their lands.

The Elders also worked, many within their estates checking over the books, including a particular Iyrman who sat opposite a particular teen Iyrman. The teen had reduced his workload so much, the Elder was able to stress about a particular fool of a father.

Elder Zijin slipped his black book within his robes, pouring himself tea, pouring some for the teen Iyrman beside him too. The teen was focused upon the various equations within the book, as though it were as fun as bringing death to his foes. Zijin placed some of the books to the side, not checking them, each which belonged to other Elders. His calloused fingers slipped through his own book, confirming whether or not Churot had completed his task correctly. Ignoring the first few mistakes the boy had made when he originally helped the Elder, the boy’s work was flawless.

“You work well,” Zijin praised, reaching out to brush Churot’s hair, feeling his growing horns against the palm of his hand.

“Yes,” Churot replied, glancing aside slightly, before returning back to his work.

Zijin stared down at the calculations within his book. Ever since Churot had learnt the art of maths from Adam, the Iyr’s bookkeeping had changed to accommodate the maths, and their books gained a level of accuracy they had never held before, to the place of one digit, and sometimes two. Zijin marked the book, requesting an additional crate of potatoes, writing down the reason why, or rather, the two tiny green reasons why.

“I am done,” Churot said, placing down the last of the books for the afternoon. “Are there more?”

“Not for now,” Zijin said, ordering the books to be sent to the other Elders, placing in the slip of paper to confirm Churot had finished their books, which would need to be signed by the Elders or their aides once they confirmed the maths.

Zijin poured Churot another cup of tea, before taking out a tray of snacks for the boy, including the peaches, which had defrosted over the course of their work. He allowed the boy to eat as many of the peaches he wanted, since they were among his favourite food.

“Should I request more peaches?” Zijin asked, smirking slightly.

“There are not many peaches in the Iyr,” Churot said, recalling the number, but before he could state the number, he bowed his head lightly to allow the Elder to ruffle his hair.

“There are as many peaches in the Iyr as it needs,” Zijin assured. “The Shamans have grown many more peach trees this year.”

“Why?”

“We are not Aldland, Drakkenlan, or Aswadasad. You do not need to worry of the number of peaches within the Iyr, but for how many you can eat before you are to grow thick and fat.”

“I walk with grandfather and grandmother,” Churot said, slipping another peach into his mouth, chewing it slowly.

Zijin chuckled lightly, slowly nodding his head. “Do you know how many farmers the Iyr has?”

“The Iyr has up to twenty thousand farmers.”

“So it does,” Zijin said, smiling gently at the young Iyrman’s response. “Do you know how many Aldland has?”

“At least ten million.”

Zijin slowly nodded. “Many work as farmers, for they have not given their Priests of Nahtu so much influence. Millions of farmers work the lands of the Aldish, but they worry for their harvests. Do we Iyrmen have need of such worries?”

“No,” Churot replied, with the confidence only Iyrmen children knew.

“No,” Zijin confirmed. “We have no need of such worries, for we are the Iyrmen. The Shamans work their magics along our land, and where once there were peach seeds planted within the earth, grow trees, tall and sturdy in the Iyr, but one afternoon later.”

Churot hadn’t seen the Shamans work their magic upon their fields, not that he wished to, enjoying the presence of his books instead. He slipped another peach into his mouth.

“Whereas the Aldish harvest their worrisome fields, we Iyrman have no worrisome fields. Whereas they harvest their fields and keep half their bushels, what of we Iyrmen?”

“We keep nothing.”

“When I worked the fields as a teen, I carried the sacks, the crates, the bushels, to the warehouse. Sometimes I would need to place them outside the warehouse so the other workers could carry them within, to place them in their designated places. The farmers would harvest the crops, some would pack the crops, some would carry the crops, some would organise the crops, and some would place the crops, and all would return home empty handed. I worked with many of your uncles and aunts, and many Iyrmen you have not met in many years, and some who have long passed.”

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“They died good deaths.”

Zijin slowly nodded his head. “We returned home empty handed, but we ate full meals. I,” Zijin emphasised the word, “keep nothing, but we, the Iyr, gain everything. Whereas the Aldish and Aswadians miss their meals upon the whims of nature, the Divine, and their nobles, the whims of nature cower upon the lands of the Iyr, the Divine do not keep the Iyr within their covetous gaze, and there are no nobles in the Iyr.”

“Cousin Adam says we are all nobles.”

“It may be true to say there are no nobles in the Iyr, for we are all nobles in the Iyr,” Zijin said, chuckling lightly. “We Iyrmen, we do not need to have Aldish worries, for we have Iyrmen worries.”

Churot remained silent for a long while. “Elder Zijin?”

“Yes?”

“The Iyr shares its wealth.”

“Yes.”

“Our families do not.”

“Do you not?”

“The Rot family is wealthy,” Churot said, recalling the time within the family vault. “We have more than the Gak family.”

Zijin remained silent for a short while, trying to think of how to talk to the boy who was soon to be a man. “Yes. The disparity of wealth between some families is vast and it has profound effects upon the glory of such families.”

“I do not like it.”

Zijin smiled warmly. He placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “The Gak family still lives. Many generations have passed since their stories have managed to pass by the lips of the Aldish. Many families have gone through such periods, and though it had been particularly long for the Gak family, in the hearts of all Iyrmen, those of the Gak family, those of the Rot family, those of all the families of the Iyr, we know they will rise again.”

“Cousin Taygak and I ate peaches at uncle Fosen’s wedding,” Churot said, holding the cool peach within his fingers. “She told me she would not grow strong because she is a Gak.”

Zijin fell speechless for a moment, his heart falling. Of all the things a child of the Iyr could say, this was among the worst.

“Cousin Taygak told me she wants to grow strong.” Churot paused. “Cousin Jaygak promised to make cousin Taygak strong. I think she will grow strong in the future.”

“I think she will grow strong in the future too.”

“Cousin Adam said he wants cousin Taygak to stay small and cute forever, but cousin Taygak is not that small, and she is not that cute, but she is strong with her fist and her voice, and cousin Adam will help her grow strong too, because he is cousin Adam.”

Zijin smiled slightly. “What of Jurot? Will he make Taygak strong too?”

“No. He will make cousin Lanarot strong because they are siblings, and cousin Lanarot already screams so well.”

Zijin recalled how many times Adam cried over how corrupted his little sister was from the Iyr. “So she does.”

“Grandfather will make nephew Jarot strong too, because he is grandfather,” Churot said, popping another peach into his mouth.

“Do you wish to grow strong too?”

“No. I want to stay here with grandfather and grandmother. I will finish the books.”

“You finish them so well.”

“Elder Zijin?”

“Yes?”

“Will cousin Jirot grow strong too?”

“I think so.”

“I think she will grow up strong because she is more troublesome than grandfather.”

Zijin’s laughter filled the estate. “Yes. Your nieces and nephews will grow up so strong.”

“Can cousin Adam keep them small and cute forever?” Churot asked.

“I am not so sure. If it’s Adam, perhaps he can, but I do not think he will.”

“I think cousin Adam will cause lots of trouble this year, because he is cousin Adam.”

“Then let us both work hard to deal with the trouble he causes.”

“That is your job, Elder Zijin. I will deal with the books and you can deal with the trouble cousin Adam causes,” Churot stated instantly, deflecting all the work which Adam would bring.

“Will you not deal with the trouble he causes?”

“Grandfather asked me to tell him when you work me too hard…” Churot said, narrowing his eyes towards the Elder, who burst out into laughter.

Yet, though they were tempting Mistress Fate, somehow Adam was not causing any trouble, which of course was most troublesome of all.

Lucy eyed up the half elf who stood tall, with his arms crossed. Meanwhile Jaygak swung her blade forward, stretching out her arm, while Morkarai also completed his own movements with his blade. Mara, too, stretched her body, readying for the battle.

Adam let out an annoyed sigh. ‘Damn it, I want to show off in front of you, but it’s awkward to kill them.’

Elsie hugged Vonda’s leg, the cloak almost hiding her from the world. She shook slightly as the four continued to charge towards them.

“Are you scared?” Adam asked.

“Yes.” The girl’s voice was almost as small as her.

“Don’t be.”

The girl sniffled slightly. “Miss Ray. Is it gonna be okay?”

“It will be fine,” Vonda assured. “The Iyrmen are strong.”

“They’re hydras.”

Adam stared out towards the approaching hydras, which were being led towards the encampment. They stood at the edge of the encampment as Jurot and Kitool, both of whom slowed down slightly every so often as they pulled the hydras along, rushed towards the camp.

“Elsie, would you like to see some magic?”

“Magic?” The girl’s head snapped towards Adam from beside Vonda.

“Yeah, some magic.”

“Miss Ray, will you make the magic?”

“I will if I must, but they may not require my magic since they are so strong.”

If the Ray was saying it, it must be true, so the girl’s heart said. In the same way the Iyrmen were figures of great renown to Adam, the Ray was a great figure to that of a little girl from the capital city of East Aldland.

“I’ll just cast one spell then,” Adam said. “I don’t want to ruin the fun for you all, so I’ll do that much.”

“Just one spell?” Lucy asked, swinging her greataxe to warm herself up.

“Yeah, just the one.”

“Is it going to be that spell?”

“Of course it’s going to be that spell.”

“If you cast it twice, we’ll get annoyed.”

“If I cast it twice, should I just cast it on you all, since it won’t hurt you guys as much?”

“Does Kitool also have such resistance to fire as we?” Morkarai asked.

“Ah, you’re right,” Adam said, slowly nodding his head. He checked his Mana, and though he had recovered some of it with a light rest, he wasn’t sure if he should use so much Mana, just in case. “It’s not like I need to cast them since it’s only a couple of hydras.”

Vonda reached down to rub the girl’s head. It was only truly the Aldishwoman who understood how ridiculous their conversation was. ‘The strong have such different conversations.’

“Ah, I think they’re in range now,” Adam said, raising his fist in front of himself, holding onto Wraith with his free hand. “Elsie, are you watching?”

Elsie glanced up towards Adam’s fist. He unfurled it slightly, his thumb pointing towards the air, his index finger pointed towards the approaching Iyrmen and hydras, as though he were ready to shoot a crossbow.

“Explosion,” Adam said, chanting the words to his magic.

Mana: 13 -> 10

Spell: Fireball