[1757] – Y07.257 – Nightval Will Come VII

“No!” cried the girl.

“Virot, be nice…” Jirot said, holding onto her younger sister, half in a hug.

“No…”

“Virot…”

“Okay.” The tears on the girl’s face all but disappeared, and Virot stared up towards her father. She had picked the best day to bully her father, since technically she was allowed to bully him this day, for today was this day.

Adam pouted slightly, but he lifted the girl up, feeling her weight within her hands. “You are so big now, Virot…”

“Virot is a big girl…” Virot confirmed.

“You are so big, almost bigger than your kaka…”

Virot flushed lightly, and smiled mischievously, accepting her father’s tight hug, the half elf swaying from side to side.

That morning they gathered the children and made their way away, as a young Iyrman, with their charcoal, began to sketch out the two families, with Virot upon her mother’s lap, and Damrot upon his mother’s lap, and it was they, almost the entire Rot family, who gathered to be sketched that day.

Upon their return, Jurot understood, and surrendered his son to the half elf, who picked him up and showered the boy’s face with kisses.

“You! Damrot! You! I told you, didn’t I?”

Damrot flushed slightly. “Papo…”

“You! You think you’re so big now that you can call me papo instead of daddy?”

“Daddy is daddy,” Damrot said, pointing to his father. He side eyed Adam, and upon his lips, a familiar mischievous smile. “Papo is papo…”

“You!” Adam continued to pepper the boy in kisses, and placed him down, his heart broken, but he awaited until the others had swarmed the pair in affection first.

“You are almost as big as me!” Lanarot declared, hugging little Virot, who smiled wide.

“You are so big now, my nephew!” Gurot declared, the boy, who was roughly the same age as Jirot and Jarot, was also so much taller, and wider, then them all. He hugged Damrot tight, and planted a firm kiss on his cheek, then marched over to Virot to do the same, the girl squealing. “You are growing up so well!”

‘When did you grow up so big, Gurot?’ Adam thought, and though he recalled their birthdays barely a month ago, his heart ached. He looked to Lanarot, and closed his eyes, unable to accept it.

Nirot peeked down towards the two, who were born on the same day, each who were her niece and nephew from the right of her grandfather. Virot held her sister’s sharpness, and Damrot, his cousin’s softness, though he called his cousin papa.

As the gifts were passed to the children, with Adam, somehow, showing mercy, by only handing over scarves, Vonda held her daughter upon her lap. She stared down at the girl, who was so trying to act out, this troublesome girl, though it was something she should have expected, for the girl’s birth had been so troubled. It was at that time, when Lord Morkarai had taken them to the Undersea Kingdoms, to meet his betrothed, and, somehow, someone connected to her husband, that she had been quite wounded, having not realised she was pregnant for the first time. Thankfully, the Mother blessed her with a great fortitude, and her darling husband, too, had assisted as he could, along with the Iyrmen.

‘Virot…’ Vonda thought, and she wiped the girl’s lips lightly with a damp towel, for she had decided to wear the milk upon her lips rather than to drink it. As the girl peeked up at her mother, Vonda kissed her nose, causing the girl to blink, and she cackled.

“Mummy!”

“Are you going to cause trouble today?” Vonda accused, pushing the girl’s cheeks inward.

Virot smiled innocently. It was a smile full of guilt.

Damrot remained upon his mother’s lap too, completely oblivious to his mother’s feelings, who stared down at the top of his head. She was glad, in many ways, the boy hadn’t taken after his father much. Though he was quiet, it was mostly because he was shy, rather than the unnerving quiet of some Iyrmen. He was also soft, meek, to the point she had no idea how he would ever learn to dance like his father. Then the thought came to her.

Was Jurot also like this?

Jurot’s arms were full of two girls, one who was snoozing against his bicep, almost drooling against it, and the other was nestling her head deep against his chest, sucking her thumb as she played with her father’s buttons. Jurot stared at Damrot, who was now four years old. His oldest son had now reached the age in which he would probably form his first memory. He thought back to his first memory, and the sight of his grandfather, so powerful, so monstrous, and his eyes slowly trailed to the side, towards the two armed, two legged Iyrman.

The only reason, perhaps, the boy would not know how monstrous his greatfather was would be because of a particular green skinned girl, with amber eyes, who held a blade like finger towards the man.

“I know you are patiently waiting, but you must keep waiting, because we, the children, must greet them first, and once we have spoiled them, then you can spoil them, okay?”

“You are only saying that because you get to spoil them first…”

“It just so happens it helps us…” Jirot turned her head to the side, half avoiding his gaze, and as the Iyrman stood, the girl took a wide stance, and she held out her ring threateningly. “Babo! You dare!”

“I am only going to the toilet…”

“I will come too, to wash your bottom!” Jirot declared.

The old Jarot closed his eyes, slipping into a meditation to stop himself from laughing. “You cannot come, but I will borrow your ring, okay?”

“Babo, you cannot borrow my ring, for you are a Rage Dancer, and you do not use magic.”

“It is a ring, so I can use the magic.”

“Oho? I see. If my babo wishes to use magic, he can use magic. My babo, who is so skilled with an axe and shield. I suppose, since my babo does not like the axe and shield he…” Jirot closed her eyes, falling silent as her greatfather’s shadow loomed over her.

“Just whose greatdaughter are you, that you speak such words so freely, without fear?”

“I am… your greatdaughter, you silly man!” Jirot declared, pointing at him threateningly.

“Aha!”

“Ha!”

Jurot closed his eyes, recalling his first memories. It was raining, then. The flashes of fury upon his grandfather’s face had seared itself upon the boy’s heart. Then, the face of a man, defeated, with one arm, who he only realised was the same man a few years later. He supposed his son would not know either of these men, for he would know a Mad Dog whose fangs had returned, who defeated the Full Moon, and would go on to slaughter a great many Reavers the next year.

“Nana…” Virot called out as the woman picked her up, wishing to claim her granddaughter, and she did so for Damrot, taking them both.

The old Jarot blinked. He turned to face Jirot.

Jirot blinked. She turned to face the older Jarot.

“Jirot…”

“Babo, what can I do?”

“Jarot…” the older Jarot called.

Little Jarot flushed. “Nana is impossible to defeat.”

“Yet, you can defeat me?”

“You are so weak, babo,” little Jarot replied, and he tilted his head as his greatfather turned red hot in his rage.

‘My greatson is so funny!’ Jarot thought, doing his best not to laugh.

Jurot felt a girl stir, and as Pamarot looked up, she saw her father. “Pamarot.”

“Mama,” the girl replied.

Jurot blinked. He turned to look towards Pam, who tilted her head, having heard a familiar voice, and as she looked down, she saw Pamarot looking to her.

“Mama…” Pamarot smiled.

“Even if she said mama first, she was speaking of I, her father.”

“You are such a sore loser,” Pam accused.

Jurot closed his eyes, his ears turning red.

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

Our Pamarot can talk now?