“No,” the tiny girl said, but she could only say it once before she gave up, her grandmother leading the girl and her siblings to the baths. Jirot chewed her teethleaf slowly, the fizz of the liquid tickling against her dual canines, before she spat it out into the cloth, along with the rest of her siblings. She allowed her grandmother to change her into the attire of the Iyrmen, but not just any attire, but the attire for the end of dawnval. She closed her eyes as her grandmother dabbed the paint onto her forehead, seven times total, the same as her aunt.

“Come, Jirot, I will brush your hair,” Mirot called, holding out a hand. The girl ran towards her other nana, sitting before her, with her twin brother also settling himself beside his sister. Mirot brushed their hair, feeling how long it had become, falling further down their shoulders. She glanced aside towards the triplets, each of whom had much longer hair, currently having their hair combed through by their grandmother.

Larot sat, his face full of annoyance as Citool finished brushing his hair too, straightening his tunic, wrapping the sash around his waist gently, though she pinned it against his shirt. Though Larot was a babe, Citool understood he was special, so there was less to worry about him trying to get himself killed by exploring the world.

Jirot yawned, before her head snapped towards her grandaunt. “Babo?”

“Do you wish to see your babo?”

“Yes!” The girl’s eyes beamed with delight as she readied herself, so excited that she forgot her only joke.

“Okay,” Mirot replied, lifting the girl up, planting a firm kiss on her cheek, before doing the same for her younger brother, who had been named after her father.

While the children prepared to enjoy the last week of dawnval, many miles away far to the east, their father stood towards the edge of the ship, his hands behind his back as he stared out towards the open ocean.

‘I bet he’s spoiling them right now and thinking about how much it would annoy me,’ Adam thought, understanding deep within his heart how true his thoughts were. He closed his eyes, imagining how adorable his children would be while wearing their outfits, and how terrible it was for the world to take such a sight away from him. His eyes darted down towards the ocean floor, willing the world to send him something to beat up so that his heart would calm itself.

The silver drakken beside him stared out at the ocean, letting out a long sigh. His long robes, as black as night, fluttered in the ocean breeze, his silver eyes full of a tiredness of people and life. He reached into his robes, pulling out a wooden pipe, before he removed the cap, slipping the pipe into his mouth.

He hummed out words which sounded like the speech of dragons, a hand forming various symbols, before smoke began to shift out of the top of his pipe. He puffed the pipe lightly, before removing it from his lips, letting out the smoke from his lungs, watching it dissipate in front of him.

“Are you a Wizard?” Adam asked, leaning over the railing.

The drakken glanced towards Adam, his eyes flashing across the young man for a moment, before his eyes fell upon the ocean once more. “That I am, Brother,” the drakken replied, his voice holding an authoritative tone.

“I might be a Brother, but I…” Adam paused, realising how stupid he was being. “I’ve a respect for all magic.”

“You follow the Iyr’s Lord of Death, but you are not an Iyrman,” the drakken stated.

“No. I’m Adam, a Brother, and a brother to an Iyrman.”

“Are you brothers by blood or blade?”

“We are brothers as though we hold the same blood,” Adam replied.

“By blade then?”

“If that’s what you prefer to call it.”

“I have some knowledge of the Iyr, much of it from Ald-, Florian, sources.”

“Are you Florian?”

The drakken inhaled deeply, staring out to the sea for a long moment. “When I was born, my parents named me Ibrahim. The bread I ate was flat, instead of apples and peaches, I ate dates and olives. When I was a boy, we travelled on a ship to Gold Port. There, they changed my name to Abraham, and I ate bread full of air, and apples and peaches. I learned the Aldish tongue, and I am still surprised they have the sense to not change the name of the language when they are raising their blade so proudly of their Florian heritage. I studied in the Florian academies, for my father earned that much coin, so good he was in Aswadasad, he could sell sand to the Shen. I pray to Lord Sozain as I would pray to Lord Noor. They view me as a drakken, believing me to be from the north, though I was born in Aswadasad, I do not remember the taste of fresh dates, of fresh olives, for they are so far to the south and the east. No, Adam. I am not Florian, I am not from Drakkenlan, where they mistake my ancestors to be from, for my ancestors roamed in what we call Noska. Do I dare to say I am Aswadian when I have most of my life in Floria? I… I am merely Abraham.”

‘What are silver drakken doing in Aswadasad?’ Adam thought, though he bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Abraham.”

“What pleasure does our meeting bring?”

“That depends. What brings you to Aswadasad?”

“I told my father and mother I should study in the east, where they were born,” Abraham said, staring at the ocean which he had crossed once before as a boy. “After the victory of the Florians against the Aldish, those who I once studied alongside seemed to have forgotten I was a part of their class, some socially. There was always some trouble between merchants and nobles, but now…”

“I thought the King’s Sword, uh, King Merryweather, he raised his blade for Aswadasad didn’t he?”

“He raised his blade because of greed. He raised his sword for his Florian ancestors. He raised his sword to keep the treaty with Aswadasad. Who is to say? I was sent to the battlefield, I did what I was told, and upon my return, many wished to forget my service. I may have slept in the nicest tents, I may have had personal guards, but when the great King Merryweather needed Wizards to create forts in the span of a day rather than weeks, I was there to shift the earth. When he threw oil upon the enemy encampments, it was my flames which brought them alight.”

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Adam raised his brows. “You fought in the war?”

“No, I did very little fighting. I do not wear chain, I do not draw blades of steel. I know my magic, but I did not fight, I was too valuable to fight, but not too valuable to keep once peace fell.” Abraham sighed. “I suppose it was my own fault I was pushed away. I saw some things I shouldn’t have seen, and said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

“What did you see?”

“What you see in war, blood, death, and the darkness of we mortals, of what we allow others to live with.” Abraham puffed his pipe, closing his eyes before exhaling. “The kinds of things that you need dragonleaf to calm you down.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me too.”

“It was only a few years ago, about four years ago, and pretty close by actually,” Adam said, motioning his head towards what was now Floria. “The new forest to the south formed, I mean, you know, south of South Fort. We were there, and it just kinda emerged all around us. Anyway, we claimed it for the Iyr first, and the Aldish tried to claim it. They backed off once they heard the Iyr had claimed it, but the Aswadians?”

“I did hear about the news. There was a skirmish between the Aswadians and the Iyr. I heard there was trickery afoot, and that the Iyr ambushed the soldiers, though others have said the Iyr killed all the Aswadian soldiers.”

“Not all of them, just a couple of hundred, I think. The Iyr wasn’t going to kill them, but they shot at me and my brother when we tried to negotiate.”

“You were there too?”

“Yeah, me and my brother, Lucy too,” Adam said, before realising his mistake of mentioning the demon. ‘Damn it.’

“They shot at you?”

“Yeah. They shot at me and thankfully Elder Peace saved me.”

“Elder Peace was there too?”

“Yeah. She was real mad, too. They…” Adam inhaled deeply. “Speaking of seeing something I shouldn’t have seen and talking about something I shouldn’t, let’s not talk about it.”

“Sometimes words are more dangerous than steel.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from the Greylands.”

“Where?”

“It’s a place that no longer exists.”

“In the sense that you are from another time, or place, or realm?”

Adam raised his brows in shock. “Speaking of talking about things I shouldn’t, let’s just say it’s a place that no longer exists.”

Abraham’s eyes remained on the sea. “You are full of stories.”

“Well, yeah, I am the brother of an Iyrman.”

“So you say.”

“You could ask him if you want.”

“I could ask him, but there is a chance he is someone using illusion to form the appearance of an Iyrman. Whether you are speaking the truth is completely irrelevant, for our paths are different. Within the year, we will have all but forgotten our meeting.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to forget you, not when I came here to offer you a job, depending on whether you’re looking for one. I’m not sure the son of a rich merchant would be willing to work for our business, but we are looking for those with magical talents.”

“What kind of business?”

“It’s called the United Kindom, and we work for an enchanter. We deal with magical items and such, creating and delivering them to various individuals, mostly nobles for now. We don’t discriminate on your race, your class, and the like. We have high ranking mages and martials, and we even have those from all kinds of backgrounds, from… well, not really nobles, but from orders, Iyrmen, to a farmer.”

“Yes, and I spoke with the dead only a few days ago,” Abraham replied, with a tone Adam recognised as part of his first life.

‘Is this guy from the UK too?’ Adam smiled politely. “You can ask Jurot, if you believe him to be an Iyrman.”

“I am sure there is at least some truth to your words, but I’ve lived long enough to realise I need to be more careful, even if I am speaking so openly of my dispassion for what has occurred recently in my life.”

“Either way, I’d like for you to keep us in mind once you’re done with your studies. I’m sure you know enough magic now, seeing as you know a trick, but if you want to learn Third Gate spells quickly, come and join us, and within a couple of years I’ll have you slinging Fireballs like nobodies business.”

“I would prefer Mage Tower over Fireball.”

“I knew I liked you. Mage Tower is such a great spell.” Adam nodded his head with the drakken narrowing his eyes, since Mage Tower was specifically not a Priest spell.

‘Does he have an item which casts it?’ Abraham thought, coming to the most logical conclusion, having not realised that logical conclusions and Adam went together like peaches and fish. “I will think upon the matter.”

“Of course.” Adam reached into his robe and pulled out a tiger eye. “Consider this a gift of our good fortune. It seems like Fate we met today.”

“Fate?”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, glancing aside.

Omen: 4, 20

“Enjoy your dragonleaf, Abraham.”

Abraham accepted the tiger eye gem, slipping it into his robes. “I won’t forget our meeting, Brother Adam.”

“Nor will-,”

A shout was followed by the ringing of a bell, the blasting of a horn, and the blow of a whistle, the cacophony of noise scattering within Adam’s head.

“What’s all that about?” Adam winced.

“A dragon turtle, a dragon, or another great creature,” Abraham replied, taking another puff of his pipe, ready to embrace Lord Sozain while the sailors scattered around on deck.

“Adam,” Jaygak called, rushing up to the half elf. “A blue dragon has been spotted.”

“A blue dragon?” Adam asked, noting the look of determination within Jaygak’s eyes. Adam donned his shield and slipped out his axe. “What’s a blue dragon doing so far out?”

“They may have sensed our magical weapons,” Jaygak said, having donned her shield, before drawing her magical blade.

Morkarai’s eyes remained focused on the horizon as the sailors gathered themselves, going to grab any tribute they could find, while some grabbed their mundane weapons, which would no doubt bounce off the dragon’s scales. A few brought over a crate, slipping off the rope, before revealing large, smooth stones.

“What are you doing?” A sailor asked, their eyes glued to the four heavily armed figures who were escorting the dark skinned fellow, who was important somehow, though they hadn’t been informed how.

“Getting ready to kill another blue dragon,” Adam said, swinging his axe in front of him as he loosened up.

“I wish to claim the heart,” Jaygak said.

“I want the heart, though?”

“You would take it from Taygak?”

“I guess if it belongs to Taygak then it belongs to Taygak,” Adam replied, giving up instantly. “I want the horns for…” ‘Hold on, isn’t it weird to give them horns when their elder siblings are half dragons?’

“Silver dragons are different to blue dragons,” Jaygak said.

“I don’t know, they were pretty uncomfortable last time…”

“Adam, Jaygak,” Morkarai said, grabbing a large stone in hand, his arm flexing wildly as he began to slowly, almost imperceptibly, grow taller. “I will deal with her.”

“What, you think because-,”

“Adam,” Jaygak said, stopping him before he could reveal the Prince’s identity.

“I mean, you know, he can’t just take the dragon from us.”

“What are you doing?” the Captain shouted, staring at the five who were so eager to fight. “Why are you condemning us to death? What if it’s a Gryn?”

“If it’s a Gryn, then maybe I should claim the heart for our Churot,” Adam said, suddenly feeling a hotness fill within him as he reached up to press his axe against his obsidian holy symbol.

“That’s fine too,” Jaygak agreed.

“What are you going to do to the dragon when it can fly?” the Captain shouted.

Adam could feel Lucy, Mara, and Jaygak stare at him with an envious glare. “I mean… that’s not a big deal for me.”

‘Just because you worship the Lord of Death, it doesn’t mean I want to die!’

The Captain’s despair filled the entire crew.