When Jurot had heard of the news, he crossed his arms. He needed a moment to channel through his rage, to allow it to take every inch of his body, before he let it flow through him. He looked towards his mother, who was holding little Lanarot, the girl napping silently within her mother’s arms.

“They were attacked?” Jurot asked.

“It was dealt with.”

Jurot remained silent, staring into his mother’s eyes. His eyes simmered with rage, only tempered by apprehension. ‘They were attacked? Jirot? Jarot?’ Jurot looked away, his eyes still wide, still taking in the world. He met Jaygak’s eyes, the girl slowly bowing her head, understanding the feelings which swirled deep within the Iyrman. Kitool held her staff tight in hand, and she had her eyes closed, the girl meditating upon her own thoughts. His eyes returned to meet his mother’s once more, which held the same reassuring look they always did.

“Okay.”

Sonarot could hear it within his voice. It was not the sound of an Iyrman who wanted to answer in such a way, but he understood he had to answer that way.

“Jirot, do you love your papo?” Adam asked, trying to coax out the right answer now that Jurot was here.

“No?”

“Jarot? Do you love papo?”

Little Jarot looked towards his uncle, and hid within his father’s chest. “No?” He cackled, before waiting to see how Jurot would respond.

The young Iyrman wasn’t sure how he felt about that, though understood the children were teasing. ‘It is okay, Jirot, Jarot.’

“I guess papo Jurot’s favourites are Konarot, Kirot, and Karot then…” Adam joked.

Jirot gasped, twitching as though she had been slapped. “No! I am favourite!”

“How can it be?”

“Papo? I am favourite?” Jirot asked, tilting her head, her eyes full of shock.

“You do not love me,” Jurot replied, holding her gaze for a long moment. Those sweet amber eyes, full of innocence.

“No! No!” The girl pointed up towards him with her whole hand, something she only employed when she was truly offended. “I can! I can all day!”

“Do you love me?” Jurot asked.

“I love you, papo! What you are saying? Smelly boy!” Jirot looked towards her grandmother for support.

Jurot reached out a hand and the girl took it. Jurot held the girl’s hand, rubbing the back of it tenderly. “I will protect you, Jirot.”

“No! I potec you! I so strong.”

Jurot wasn’t sure how he felt about that either. He continued to gently brush her hand, realising he was doing it more for himself than he was doing it for the girl.

“Stop bullying your papo and hug him, you smelly girl.”

Jirot climbed on top of her uncle and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You smelly boy! I love you so much, unko Jurot.” She grabbed his head and kissed his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck again.

“I love you too, unko Jurot,” Jarot said, reaching out for his uncle.

Jurot pulled the children into his arms, and once they were firmly nestled against him, the Iyrman felt the heat of rage fill through him, his eyes completely white. Even with his rage, he could not overcome the darkness which seeped through his heart. ‘Jirot. Jarot.’

Adam wanted to hug his children too, but he gave the children up, just this once. He glanced aside, to his triplets, who were half asleep, lazing near their father. ‘Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. Your father…’ Adam thought about it. ‘I’m a little strong, I guess…’

“Papo, you must tell story!” Jirot stated, bullying her uncle to tell them a story.

“Okay,” Jurot replied.

As the children each began to fall to slumber for their naps, Adam found himself beside the one armed Jarot. His eyes remained glued upon his children, who slept so peacefully.

“Hey, old man.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“…” Jarot smiled, leaning back into his chair. ‘This brat! He still will not call me grandfather, even now?’

The Iyrmen waited for the message from the Countess, but it didn’t come. The Countess, trying to figure out how to balance both the noble and the Iyrmen, spent the night deep in thought.

“It is fine,” Sonarot assured the next morning, noting that Adam was so tense. He kept his twins right beside him, even away from Jarot and Rajin, spoiling the pair of them eagerly.

“I… want to take them out.”

“Okay,” Sonarot said, partly surprised that Adam would want to take them out after what happened.

“You two should stay here and rest,” Adam said, eyeing up both Jarot and Rajin, who had recovered decently well.

“Your magic healed us well enough,” Jarot stated.

“What? This old geezer! You did such a good job, now it’s time for someone else to take some glory! Jirot, Jarot, you must tell him to rest, or what will mummy say?”

“Babo!” Jirot said, raising a threatening fingers to her greatfather. When the girl’s mother was invoked, it was easy to get her to behave properly.

“Since my greatdaughter has asked me to stay, I will stay. However, you must stay with me.”

Adam leaned in to whisper into her daughter’s ear. The girl, her amber eyes full of mischief, smirked, and spoke her favourite words.

Gangak had forced her way along, with Laygak and Jaygak both walking with the group. Jurot had also come along, the young man carrying his sister through the roads. The townsfolk gave the group an especially wide berth that day, though Adam wasn’t sure if it was because they were so heavily armoured, even the half elf adorned in his full gear, or because of the rumours that had spread like wildfire.

‘I can’t take them to that place since it’s too close to the Guild, but…’

“Is that puthral?” the old woman asked, reaching out to rub a finger along Adam’s armour. She had long white hair, her body long and thin. She wore plain clothing, but it was well made, and the necklace she wore was thin and finely crafted.

“It is.”

“What brings a fellow wearing puthral to my store, and so heavily armoured,” she said, before glancing aside to the Iyrmen.

“My children are looking to buy gifts for their family.”

“Are they Iyrmen?”

“Yes.”

The woman allowed them to peruse her store, full to the brim with weapons, made of all different shapes and sizes, made of all different metals and alloys, and made of all different qualities.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Let’s find some nice weapons, okay?”

“Okay!” Jirot and Jarot declared, glancing around.

“I’m not very good at checking out axes, so ask your papo, and your kako and nano are better with swords,” Adam said. “Of course, papo Laygak is great with swords too, so you should ask him instead of your troublesome kako.”

“Kekekeke,” Jirot covered her mouth and looked towards Jaygak, to see if she was reacting to her father’s words.

“I have the most beautiful horns, so you should ask me, shouldn’t you?” Jaygak replied.

“No!”

‘I will forgive you just this once,’ Jaygak thought. ‘Since you are so cute.’

“Shield,” Lanarot said, pointing at the shield before her.

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

“I want.”

“Okay,” Jurot replied, reaching into his pouch.

‘That’s right, just like that,’ Adam thought, nodding his head approvingly. ‘You should spoil our sister too.’

“Oooh!” Jirot said, staring at a particular blade which held waves within its steel. “I want it!”

“Remember, it’s to gift away.” Adam ruffled her hair.

“I want it!”

“Okay, daddy will buy it, don’t worry,” Adam said, catching her wrist as she tried to reach for it. ‘Seriously, stop trying to hurt yourself.’

“This?” little Jarot asked.

“It is good,” Jurot said.

“This?” Jarot asked, pointing to another.

“It is good.”

“This?” Jarot asked, pointing to the thirteenth axe.

“It is good.”

Somehow, the pair continued, until they had finally finished speaking about every axe in the store, except for one.

“What about this one?” Jurot asked.

“Not good,” Jarot replied, shaking his head.

“Okay,” Jurot said.

“This?” Jarot asked, pointing to an axe he already asked about.

“It is good.”

Eventually, Jarot managed to pick one, partly due to his sister’s help, who picked a few for him to choose from, and before she could pick which one she liked most, Adam distracted her by constantly kissing her face and tickling her, causing her to squeal and cry.

‘You smelly girl, you need to let your brother pick something.’

The woman was glad to take the coin of the young man, and though she wanted to make an offer for the puthral, she knew not to do it in front of Iyrmen.

“Okay, do you understand what you need to say?” Adam asked, whispering to them outside.

“I know!” Jirot nodded her head emphatically, her curly hair bouncing.

“I know, daddy,” Jarot confirmed.

“Okay, so when I let you in, you must do it, okay?”

“Okay!”

Adam placed his children down, who screamed and rushed over to the Iyrmen.

“Babo! Babo!” the pair yelled out, rushing to the pair of old men.

“Babo! I boht you soad!” Jirot said, hugging Rajin’s leg.

“Babo! I boht you axe,” little Jarot said, holding up his arms to be held.

Adam smiled, letting out a sigh. ‘You said you understood!’ Adam approached the older Iyrmen and revealed the weapons, which had been wrapped in cloth. “Aren’t my kids so lovely? They went to buy you gifts even though they didn’t need to.”

“Of course they are so lovely!” Jarot growled, pulling his greatson closer. “Who is greater than my greatson?” He peppered the boy in kisses, embracing him close.

“Jarot,” Rajin began, “you can have Jarot, I will have Jijin.”

“No! They are my greatchildren! Come, Jirot.”

“No!” Jirot cackled.

“Do you want to be my greatdaughter?” Rajin asked.

“No!” The girl continued to cackle, clapping her hands.

Adam held out the third weapon. “Even though they didn’t say thank you, the kids wanted to thank you too.”

“I did not do anything,” Uwajin replied, rubbing her eyes.

“You looked after them and allowed their babos to fight. Are you going to refuse the gift my children bought for you?”

“No.” Uwajin accepted the gift, eyeing up the blade. It certainly wasn’t a typical greatsword, the blade stamped with a particular symbol, while the patterns along the steel were faint.

Adam sat down opposite them, with his triplets swarming around him. He reached down to brush their hair, picking each of them to allow them to swallow him whole, each of them claiming parts of their father for themselves. Even though Adam was sandwiched between his children, he could still feel it in the back of his mind.

‘How dare they…’

The evening hues began to dance along the sky when the Countess met with the Family Head of the Rot family. She was surrounded by two other Iyrmen, both who held the same first name, and who wielded a blade at their sides, each uncles to her.

“I have heard troubling news,” the Countess began.

“Yes,” Sonarot replied, sipping her tea.

“Is it true you Iyrmen have brought… monsters into my town?”

“We have not.”

“I have heard that you have brought goblins into my wonderful town.”

“They are not monsters.”

“I care little for what you call them, Iyrman, they are goblins.” The Countess’s lips remained taut, barely a frown. “These lands have laws that even you Iyrmen must abide by during your travels.”

“The King’s Law.”

“So you do know of them,” the Countess stated, still full of annoyance. “I will ask you to send the monsters away, or you may find they will be dealt with.”

“Who would dare to kill my grandchildren?” Sonarot asked, sipping her tea again, though she couldn’t taste it.

“Your grandchildren?” The Countess’ voice was full of confusion, though she quickly composed herself.

“I am the Family Head of the Rot family, and those children bear the name of the Rot family.” Sonarot placed down her cup, clasping her hands together. “I am also the President of the United Kindom, a position equal to that of the Enchanter, and those children shall also gain a place within the business when they are old enough.”

The Countess remained stone faced, but her mind was racing with the new information she had received. ‘What?’

“Do you understand what I am saying, Countess?” Sonarot asked, her eyes holding the veneer of a threat.

The Countess remained silent for a long moment. ‘She mentioned that her title was equivalent of the Enchanter’s? If she speaks it, it must be true.’ “I merely worry for your grandchildren, President. You may find that many within Red Oak, from guards to adventurers, to the commonfolk, wish to slay goblins, for they know no better.”

“Many may try,” Sonarot confirmed. “If they wish to die, we Iyrmen will assist them to Baktu’s gentle embrace.”

“I will not tell my guards to deal with the goblins, but I will not ask them to leave the goblins be. I hope they will leave soon.”

“You will not ask the guards to leave my grandchildren alone?” Sonarot asked, narrowing her eyes. “Even after it was we Iyrmen who guaranteed the safety of Red Oak during the civil war? It was my father, he who tore apart the Count’s guards like they were made of Aldishmen, who fought to defend your land during the civil war.”

The Countess wasn’t sure she liked her use of Aldishmen in such a way. “Red Oak has always been under the rule of the Blackwater family, and such has not changed.”

“It would have remained under the King’s rule, but how much of it would have remained without the Iyr’s assistance?” Sonarot asked.

“It would have been far too difficult for the King to assault Red Oak, should we have wished for it, but we did not.”

“It was never impossible to overtake your town,” Sonarot said.

“The losses would have been extreme, even for you Iyrmen.”

“No,” Sonarot replied, holding the Countess’ gaze. “The Iyr has assisted Red Oak for generations. It was Red Oak which first understood the strength of we Iyrmen. Your ancestor did well in creating a unique relationship with the Iyr. It was thanks to Red Oak that Aldland has survived for so long from our blades, and for that, the Iyr has made sure that Red Oak has remained relevant all throughout the years.”

“I have not forgotten the favour the Iyr has shown Red Oak, but I do not forget where my loyalties lay, and nor should you Iyrmen. Though you have great autonomy, do not forget your relationship with Aldland, and how little the Iyr has changed compared to the rest of the country.”

“If my grandchildren are harmed, we of the Rot family, and our shared families, will slay any involved. We will slay them and their families.” Sonarot had spoken the words as though she was talking about what she was going to have for dinner that evening.

“That is not how it works upon our land, Iyrman.”

“It has always worked in such a way, Aldishman. It worked that way generations ago when we slew who first ruled Red Oak, it worked that way when the King Solomon the Wise almost destroyed Aldland with his foolish mistake, and it is how it works even now, when we could have slain the Count of the Westmoon family, but showed mercy for the sake of your face.”

“The memories of the Iyrmen truly do stretch a long way,” the Countess stated, frowning as she sipped her tea, trying to figure out how to deal with the woman without losing access to the Enchanter.

“Do you know why the town is named Red Oak?”

“It is the name of the tree which was found here,” the Countess replied, simply.

“Do you know how the oaks became red?”

“No.”

Sonarot remained silent for a long moment. “Your family, when they migrated to this town, from what was once the land between Noska and Aldland, now fallen into the ocean, they found this town. It was ruined. They rebuilt the town and ruled it in place of its original family. It was we Iyrmen who destroyed it and moved on. The saplings of the trees soaked in the blood of the people we massacred, and thus the oak became red.”

“It is quite the tale…”

“We Iyrmen possess the old oaks which once grew in this land.”

“The Red Oak of then and the Red Oak are now are very different.”

“In some ways they are,” Sonarot said, nodding her head gently. “In some ways, it is not.”

“Red Oak and the Iyr were once comparable, but that is not the case any longer, Family Head.”

“Red Oak and the Iyr were never comparable,” Sonarot stated firmly, her lips almost forming a smile. “We will leave since it will become awkward for you if we kill too many within Red Oak. Aldish memories only last a generation, but there is no need to for bloodshed this day, for my grandchildren would prefer not to see any due to their mother.”

“I thank you for your kindness.”

“We of the Rot family will never forget your words this day,” Sonarot stated, standing up, towering over the woman. Shasen and Shagek both nodded their heads, following the Family Head as she left.

‘She brought three of the Oakguard,’ Shasen thought. ‘It would have been a good fight.’

Shagek was also impressed that the Countess had prepared, though he thought at least four should have been better, since Sonarot, too, could fight well.

‘Should I have asked them to kill an Oakguard?’ Sonarot thought as she returned to the inn. She stopped walking, her uncles also stopping with her, allowing her a moment to think. She thought of her little Jirot, who always tried to cause trouble, but the girl would always behave upon a single look. She closed her eyes, and the images of her grandchildren’s dead bodies flashed through her mind.

‘I should have threatened her.’