Elder Zijin closed his little black book, before clasping his hands together, staring at where the half elf had been sitting. Only a short few moments ago, the pair had been discussing something which Adam wished to bring existence within the Iyr, and now…

He had been promised the day off, but at the very least he didn’t want to lose progress on the pulsing gem. It was something the Iyr wasn’t entirely familiar with, and even as they tried to identify the gem, the magic was merely absorbed into the gem.

‘Of course.’ The Elder rubbed his forehead, thinking of the phrase which had entered the Iyr’s lexicon.

Jarot’s laughter filled the shared estate. The Iyrmen were glad they had taken the youngest babies away, though the laughter had alarmed Murot and the others, causing them to cry. Even so, the old one armed Iyrman was unable to stop his laughter, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

Adam stood there awkwardly, holding the back of the baby’s head. “Can’t you hear the babies crying? If you’re going to laugh, at least muffle your laughter.”

Jarot tried to respond, but he was unable to do so through his laughter. Jurot lifted little Jarot up, holding the boy to his chest, allowing his grandfather to cover his mouth, tears still burning with his eyes. His laughter caused Jirot to laugh, and soon Adam’s children all began to add to the symphony of laughter which filled the estate. Inakan joined in the laughter, having barely heard it erupt nearby, but even Gurot, who had been crying within his mother’s bosom, began to laugh and squeal.

“I get what this looks like, but this time…” Adam caught Jaygak staring at him, giving him that look. It was the look that dared him to finish his statement, but Adam couldn’t, having realised it wasn’t honest midway through. “Actually, no, even this time it is my fault.”

‘…’ Jurot blinked as Adam sat down with the baby, still supporting the back of the tiny one’s head.

“So, apparently, that gem thing was… I don’t know what it was, but yeah.” Adam could feel the warmth of the newborn baby’s body against him. The baby looked like any half fae out there, except the babe’s skin was deep red, like blood.

“A demon?” Sonarot asked. The devilkin from Aswadasad all had horns, but there were tales during the Demonic Devastation which stated some demons did not have horns.

“Just because he’s that adorable, it doesn’t mean he’s a demon,” Adam replied, causing Jarot to almost howl with laughter again. The half elf could feel all the gazes upon him, since this was exactly something which would have happened to him.

Jurot thought about what Crowseer had said. “Adam?”

“Yes?”

“I am the best brother.”

“How can you say that when Turot and Asorot are sitting right there?” Adam asked. “Turot and Asorot play so well with one another and little Gurot.”

“I play well too,” Raygak added. “I did not borrow Jaygak’s peppers all year.”

“The year has only begun, Raygak,” Adam retorted.

“I read to Kavgak too.”

“Raygak’s right, of course,” Adam stated. “How can you say that when there are such great brothers all around us?”

Jurot remained silent, blinking. Jaygak stifled a laugh, before noting the way Kitool stared at her, and the young Iyrman glanced aside.

“I’ll allow you all to say you’re joint first at being the best brother,” Adam finally relented, winking.

“Daddy,” Konarot called, walking up to her father. “Is baby?”

“Yes?”

“Is your baby?”

“…” Adam wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Uh…”

A pair of familiar faces arrived, a bald Iyrman who wore the same tattoo as some within the shared estate, and another Iyrman, a beautiful woman with deep red skin, with a purple tilted cross in the centre of her forehead and six hollowed hexes. She wore the attire of the shamans, dresses in her heavy cloak, dark green with a golden hem, and wore two amulets of Baktu.

Lokat stared down at the child, before she muttered a prayer, and bowed her head. “The babe is a demon.”

Adam held the child against himself still, his eyes glancing between Lokat and Shaool. Shaool rubbed Konarot’s head, while the girl glanced around in the sky, trying to find her bird friend. Shaool smiled tenderly towards the young girl, who pouted up at her, before eventually giving into her nano’s affection.

“Adam,” Jarot finally called, having managed to stop his laughter. “I forgive you.”

“You forgive me?”

“You have kept your word.”

“…”

“Is he not my sixth greatson?”

“Oh,” Adam replied, flushing red hot. “Uh…”

“A demon?” Sonarot asked.

“I feel like demons are likely to be hunted, right?” Adam asked.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Yes.”

“Damn…” Adam looked down at the boy, who lay within his arms. The boy’s eyes narrowed as he stared above, his red eyes so similar to the colour of blood. Adam noted the leaf shaped ears of the boy, the boy not just a demon, but also a fae. ‘Is it because I was the one to give my mana and health?’

“If you do not wish to adopt him, I will,” Jurot said, causing the various gazes to shift from his brother to him in shock.

“You?” Jaygak let slip, before Kitool jabbed her with a finger to the side.

“He will be in danger if he grows without the name of our family,” Jurot replied, sitting up tall and straight, his arms crossed. “Who would dare to bother him when he is son of Jurot?”

“I will accept this too.” Jarot chuckled.

“How can he be your son when he’s this adorable?” Adam asked, his heart pounding in his chest, his chest tightening. “Obviously he’s my son!”

“Okay,” Jurot replied, leaving the matter there.

“…” Adam stared down at the demon baby. “Is it true no one would mess with him if he was an Iyrman?”

“There would be fewer threats,” Jurot replied after thinking for a moment.

“Even demons?”

“He would be an Iyrman,” Jurot stated firmly.

‘The buff of being an Iyrman is insane…’ Adam’s eyes fell across his own children. Konarot, Kirot, Karot, all half dragons who would be hunted for their dragon ancestry. Jirot, Jarot, each who would be hunted because they were considered vermin. Then this demon baby, who would be hunted because he was a demon, just like Lucy.

Flashes of fire crossed Adam’s eyes as he recalled the meeting with Shama, the Lord of Flames. An unimaginably powerful foe who had essentially defeated him with a flick of his finger. Even after coming across a Night God and several Night Lords, he hadn’t yet faced a creature even half as powerful as that man.

“Daddy!” Jirot huffed, breaking his thought. “My daddy!”

“That’s right.”

The girl looked down at the baby, and then to the other Iyrmen nearby. She glanced between Kavgak, Jaygak, and Logak. “Jaygak dohta?”

“No, no, he’s my son.”

“Daddy?” Jirot asked, narrowing her eyes. She looked between the boy and then to her father. Her eyes fell to Jurot and Adam, and then to her grandmother. Her lower lip began to quiver. “No.”

“Jibaby?”

“No!” The girl began to scream, before the screaming turned to a cry. “Not my daddy!”

“What?” Adam blinked, stunned from her daughter’s words.

“Not my daddy!” She pointed at her father with her dagger like finger. “Not my nana!” She pointed at her grandmother. “No!”

“What are you saying?”

“You are not my daddy!”

‘Is she angry at the baby?’ Adam, trapped by holding the baby, glanced over towards the old man.

“What is wrong, my Jirot?” Jarot asked, with the little boy named after him standing beside his greatfather awkwardly.

“Not my daddy!” Jirot shouted towards her father. “Look!” She raised her arm. “Look! Not my daddy!”

“What are you talking about?” Adam asked.

“Look!” She sniffled and pointed to Kavgak and Jaygak. “Gak.” She pointed between Lanarot and Jurot. “Woh.”

Adam’s face grew paler. “Jibaby…” He swallowed, his throat full of silence.

Little Jarot stared up at his father, his mouth agape, before he turned to face his greatfather. His lips trembled and he made to cry too. The older Jarot hoisted the boy up within his arms. “Jirot, how can you say such things? You are my greatdaughter!”

Jirot stared up at the old man, her eyes growing wetter with tears. She slowly bowed her head, her eyes glaring up toward the old man. “No.” She trembled for a moment before she burst into further tears, letting out the loudest of wails.

Jurot’s eyes remained glued to Adam’s face, seeing the look of alarm on the half elf’s face, and the sweat across the back of his neck. “Jirot.”

“No!” She pointed up towards Jurot angrily. “No!”

“Jirot,” Jaygak called, softly. “Obviously you are Adam’s daughter.”

“No!” Jirot sobbed, before Sonarot picked the girl up, holding her close. Jirot continued to wail and cry, even as she was rocked within the woman’s arms, which had always soothed her.

Jaygak sighed. “Of course it’s your daughter causing trouble.” Jaygak took little time gloating, instead making her way to the Gak section of the shared estate.

Adam’s heart continued to thunder deep within his chest. He held the boy closer to his chest. ‘Of course you’re my children, you little punk!’ Adam winced, unable to shake the feeling that he was just saying it to convince himself. ‘No! Of course you’re my daughter! Jaygak’s right! Only my daughter can make this trouble.’ Even so, Adam couldn’t find the strength to speak.

Jaygak finally returned, holding up a mirror she had received when she was a girl. The amount of chaos she had caused with the mirror caused Jogak to sit up straighter and raise his brows at his daughter.

“Jirot, come.”

“No!” Jirot cried into her grandmother’s bosom.

Jaygak sighed. “You’re looking at the picture wrong, Jirot.”

“No.” Jirot sniffled.

Jaygak picked up Konarot, holding the girl to her chest. “Is Konarot daddy’s daughter?”

“No!” Jirot sniffled, turning back to look towards her eldest sister, then towards her father. “Yes.”

“Right. You see?” Jaygak brushed Konarot’s hair. “Daddy does not have silver hair, but Konarot is still his daughter.”

Jirot stared at the girl, narrowing her eyes at Konarot, before she nodded her head slowly. “Siva’air.” She sniffled once more, staring up towards her kako’s beautiful red skin, distracted for a moment.

“Karot and Kirot, they’re Konarot’s sister and brother too, just like you.”

“I not.” Jirot slapped the air, pouting towards Jaygak.

Jaygak sighed, throwing a look to Adam, who was still trying to understand what she was doing. “How can you say he is not your father when you are both the same? Look.” Jaygak sat beside Adam, before bringing Konarot’s head up to her father’s. Konarot took the chance to kiss her father’s cheek before she pressed her cheek against his. “Konarot is definitely your daughter, Adam.” Jaygak pulled the girl’s head away from Adam’s for a moment.

“Do you see it?” Jaygak asked. “Konarot has horns, daddy does not. Konarot has silver hair, daddy does not. But…” Jaygak rubbed Konarot’s ear gently. “Do you see it? Their ears are the same.”

Jirot sniffled again, furrowing her brows, staring at their ears.

“Jirot, look.” Jaygak brought Konarot beside the little Jarot, who was gently bouncing on his babo’s lap. Jaygak rubbed their ears gently. “They have the same ears, just like daddy.”

Sonarot took the mirror from Jaygak, holding it up to Jirot. “Do you see? Your ears are the same, Jirot.”

Jirot reached up to her ears, seeing her reflection doing the same. She rubbed them gently, and noted they were pointed, leaf shaped, like her father’s. “Eahs?”

“That’s right! Who else but this leaf ear can be your father?” Adam asked, his eyes burning. “You silly girl, how can you worry your father like this?”

Jirot’s lips quivered. “Daddy!” She reached out for her father and began to wail.

Jurot took the demon baby from his brother, allowing the father and daughter to embrace one another.

Adam and Jirot hugged tight, the young man gently rocking from side to side. He could feel how light she still was. “Jirot.” Adam grit his teeth for a moment, his entire body filling with relief. “My Jirot! Of course you are my daughter!”

“Daddy!” Jirot held onto her father’s neck tightly, still sobbing and sniffling. Her tears and snot covered her father’s neck as they hugged tightly.

Little Jarot sniffled too. “Daddy?” the boy asked, staring up towards his father with his large eyes, his lips trembling.

“Yes, my Jarot?” Adam held out his arm, and stole his son away from his greatfather. Adam embraced his twins tight, gently rocking them against him, calming them, and himself, down.

‘What nonsense is this?’ the boy thought within the arms of the Iyrman, who stared down at him. ‘Who do you think you are, you brat?’

Jurot stared down at the demon baby. “You, too, are his son.”

‘Whose son am I?’ The baby squinted towards Jurot, barely able to make the sights and sounds around him. ‘Where am I?’