Konarot stared up at the Iyrman, whose hair and eyes were dark, like most Iyrmen, but especially like her nana. He was tall, and thicker than most other Iyrmen, though not quite at the level where one might mention it. A thick beard covered his jaw, hiding much of his face. He wore a blade at his side. She squinted her eyes, feeling as though the Iyrman was familiar. His tattoo was extremely familiar, a purple five pointed star with yellow flowers emanating out from it. It was almost identical to the Kan family, except the colours were inverted.

The Iyrmen stared down at the young girl, who was barely two years old, yet was already walking around with such intelligence in her eyes. The girl who had been so defiant against the world. He noted the faint scar across her cheek, something from before the time they had met.

“Good afternoon,” the Iyrman said, his voice low and raspy.

“Hello,” Konarot replied.

After an awkward moment of silence, the girl reached up to grab his free hand, the other holding a large basket full of food. The Iyrman allowed her to grab his hand, and allowed her to pull him along towards the rest of the triplets.

“Look!” Konarot pointed out the Iyrman to her siblings, pointing towards his tattoos. The trio of triplets stood in front of the Iyrman, each staring up at him, their eyes expectant. Slowly, the memory of the Iyrman returned to them, though they had been so young when they had last seen him, and even younger when they had first seen him.

“Good afternoon,” the Iyrman said.

“Hello,” the triplets replied.

“Are you well?”

The triplet nodded their heads, causing their silver hair to bounce and shimmer under the dawnval sun. The trio were adorned in the attire of the Iyr, their tunics wrapped with a sash at their stomachs, their trousers rolled up slightly, their thick leather boots, which conformed around their feet and allowed them to trek the Iyr freely and safely.

“You did not bring Danagek?” Sonarot asked, returning from a separate entrance. She held a red baby within her arms, and following her was her aunt, who carried a tiny pair of goblins.

Jirot and Jarot laughed and squealed as their nano played with them, nuzzling against their faces and cheeks, causing them to clap their hands excitedly. Their eyes were glued to their nano’s face, but once they had finally calmed down, they spotted the stranger amongst their midst.

“He was to nap,” the Iyrman said, placing down the basket, his eyes falling across the other set of babies within the estate, who were also beginning to yawn, though their eyes were glued to him too. “They are growing well.”

Sonarot bowed her head. “Come, Jirot, Jarot, greet your baba.”

“Baba?” Jirot asked, still within her nano’s arms.

“He is my papa.”

Jirot twitched upon hearing the words, narrowing her eyes. “Jawoh is my papa.”

“That is right, Jarot is your papa, and Tonagek is my papa,” Sonarot stated.

“Is baba?” Jirot asked, her eyes scanning across the Iyrman. He was slightly chubbier than most Iyrmen she had seen, and she could see the dark bags around the Iyrman’s eyes, something she hadn’t seen in many Iyrmen, save perhaps her greatfather now and again. “Is not baba.”

“Jirot, you must behave,” Sonarot said, lowering her voice, her tone shifting to become more serious.

Jirot pouted, hiding within her nano’s chest. The old woman leaned down to kiss her cheek gently, but drew closer with the pair.

“You must treat your baba well,” Gangak said, placing the children down, causing Jirot to groan and complain, but the older woman ruffled the children’s hair. “Do you think I will fall for your cries? I am not your father, I will not give in to your every demand.”

“Jirot, what is your papa’s name?” Sonarot asked.

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“Is Jawoh,” Jirot replied, holding onto her nano’s trouser for emotional support.

“What of your other kakas and papa?” Sonarot asked, her eyes falling to the triplets.

“It’s Konawoh, Kiwoh, Kawoh,” Jirot said, pointed to the group of triplets. “Is my, is older than me, so bigger.”

“Do you have another papa?”

“Is Lawoh,” the girl said, pointing at the demon boy with such beautiful red skin, like some of her kakos, papos, nanas, and nanos. “Is my papa, my papa Lawoh, is so small but I am looking after good, okay?”

“You are looking after your brother well?” Tonagek asked.

“Yes!” Jirot puffed out her chest, widening her stance as if readying to fight. “I am good girl! I looking after my papa all day!” Jirot held her hand up towards her grandmother so she could give her the boy, though Sonarot reached down to ruffle her hair instead.

Tonagek reached into the basket and withdrew a small ball made of salya and nuts which had been baked a short while ago. He offered it to the girl’s lips. “Since you are so good, you must eat first.”

“Yes!” Jirot reached up towards the nutball, taking it from the Iyrman first, not trusting him to feed her. She bit into the nutball, and without thinking, her entire arm arced towards her brother, bringing the ball to his lips.

“Is it good?” Tonagek asked.

Jirot chewed slowly, and formed a smirk with her lips.

“Jirot, behave,” Sonarot raised her brows, as though daring the girl to act up.

“Is good,” the girl replied, quietly, pouting slightly up towards her grandmother.

“What do you say?” Sonarot asked, waiting expectantly.

“Than’ you.” Jirot motioned from her chin to the man with her free hand, almost as though blowing a kiss, though it was one of the signs of the Iyr she had learnt.

Konarot blinked towards Tonagek, waiting for her own nutball. The expectant gaze caused Tonagek to offer each of the triplets a nutball, receiving their thanks, before he eventually retreated to where his sister had sat. The triplets followed after him, while Jirot and Jarot stared at him from afar, eating the nutball as they squinted towards the stranger who was apparently their nana’s papa.

Yet, how could their nana have a papa?

“Do you remember me?” Tonagek asked, his eyes glued to Konarot, the little girl staring up at him still.

She nodded her head. “Sohd and shield.”

Tonagek force a smile upon his lips. “That is right.”

“Sad?”

“Sad?”

“Sad man?”

“…” Tonagek reached over to ruffle her hair gently. “I am glad you are growing well, Konarot.”

“Yes.” The girl allowed him to ruffle her hair.

“Konarot, go eat with your kaka and papa,” Sonarot said, gently rocking with her grandson in her chest.

As Konarot began to pull away, Jirot quickly rushed up towards them, pointing up a threatening finger towards the other Iyrman, whose tattoos were similar to the Kan family, but different. “Is not your papa, is my papa, okay?”

“Yes?”

“Okay,” the girl said, before she followed her eldest sister away, nibbling away at the nutball still. Sometimes she’d glance back towards the Iyrman suspiciously.

“She means well, our Jirot,” Sonarot said, smiling smugly towards her brother.

“The three should have been mine,” Tonagek said, his eyes glued to the half dragon triplets he had saved years ago, back when his own son had been so gruesomely killed. His entire body tensed up, his head pulsing, though he felt his elder sister’s hand against his own, quickly calming him.

“They are still yours,” Sonarot assured. “Adam would not deny you your rights.”

“What right do I have?”

“Without you, he would not have known of his three children.”

“He would have found them,” Tonagek replied, his eyes falling to the red skinned boy.

Sonarot smiled, that kind of smile which came to be the moment Adam entered into the Iyr, and the phrase had come into the lexicon of the Iyr. “Are you envious I have six?”

“Tanagek does not intend to return for some time, so there will be much time before I claim the title of grandfather,” Tonagek replied.

Sonarot held out the boy towards the brother, who paused for a long moment, before taking the boy. She quickly left to bring some tea, allowing Tonagek to eye up the boy, who squinted up at him suspiciously.

“The boy is a relic,” Sonarot informed, placing down the pot against the large red stone.

Tonagek blinked, furrowing his brows before he slowly turned to face his sister, his face taken by surprise. ‘What?’

It was the same thought Amira had held when she heard the fiery explosion in the distance, as well as as the screeching and crying of the birdcats. It was shocking enough the half elf could cast a Fireball considering how many towers he had formed. Amira, who wasn’t a mage, and didn’t know magic, was fairly certain it was difficult for Adam to cast more than two Third Gate spells.

Yet.

There he was.

Raining down several Fireballs from the heavens.

Even as the divine magic of her companions filled the air, pressing against her with warmth, Amira’s mind raced as the third Fireball fell from the heaven.

Mana: 19 -> 16

Spell: Fireball

8D6 = 27 (1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6)

Mana: 16 -> 13

Spell: Fireball

8D6 = 26 (1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 5, 6)

Mana: 13 -> 10

Spell: Fireball

8D6 = 39 (4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6)

The birdcats were thin felines, with light grey fur and feathered tail. Though they were struck with a supernatural viciousness, even they howled and cried as fire engulfed them to the brim, striking at least a dozen of them each time. Even the duabears, large bears with two heads, growled in pain.

As Adam readied his axe, the distant flames caught his attention, the other outpost surrounded by a wall made of fire. ‘Is that a-,’ Adam thought, before his attention was caught by the duabear trying to climb up to bite his head clean off.

‘Mother Soza, please watch over them,’ Vonda thought, the sounds of death filling the fort.