[1762] – Y07.262 – Nightval is Cold II

The shadow loomed tall.

The twins stared at the back of their father, he, himself, staring at the wall. Their arms at their sides, his arms tied behind his back. The twins glanced between one another, for though they had rushed over upon seeing him, seeing how he was so focused on the wall, Jirot understood her father was thinking about something important.

“Daddy?” Virot asked, causing the half elf to stir from his stupor.

“Daddy is thinking.”

“Oh dear.” Virot shook her head.

Jitool held her niece’s and nephew’s hands, dragging them away, as Jirot claimed her younger sister’s hand in her own.

‘The Reavers...’ Adam thought, returning back to staring at the tree. His muscles ached throughout his body. However, for the first half of the month, he ached for one reason, and the second half of the month, another. ‘I probably shouldn't continue Awakening the Iyrmen, but at the same time, the more Iyrmen that remain, the easier it is for the business…’

Adam closed his eyes. ‘They say the Reaver King, or the Reaver Duke, or whatever, has yet to step onto the battlefield. Does that mean...’

Every morning, the sun would kill him as he completed his light cardio, followed by his routine of punching and kicking. In the afternoon he would walk to stretch his legs from enchanting. In the evening, he would complete his weightlifting, often alone, although at some point his brother, and the other Rot began to join him.

“Daddy, you are eating so much...” Jirot finally said, having noticed the large meals her father would claim for himself, and though he would sometimes feed little Jarot, who was eating three bites consistently, plus a bite of dessert, he was piling on more food.

“I'm bulking since it's nightval,” Adam replied, scratching the scruff on his cheek. “Since it’s nightval, what do you think? Do you like my beard?”

“I like it daddy!”

“Daddy, you are so rugged,” Jarot said.

Adam flushed lightly. “I am?”

“So rugged, daddy!” they all confirmed.

“Daddy, you can grow beard?” Virot asked, raising her brow, glancing aside towards Jurot, who had begun to let it grow, every week cutting it slightly less than usual.

“I can, although, because daddy is a half elf, he can really only grow a beard during nightval.”

“Daddy is a half elf?”

“Yes, like you. Uh, wait, I mean, daddy is a half elf, even though you are an Iyrman,” Adam said, noting the way his daughter was about to say something, but the amber eyed girl settled down.

“Daddy is not Iyrman?” Virot asked, turning her head to her mother.

“I’m not, but I am close with the Iyr.”

Virot tilted her head, furrowing her brows, and as she turned to her sister, her confusion remained evident. “Daddy is not an Iyrman?”

“No…” Jirot thought about how to explain it.

“That is right,” Jurot said.

‘Don’t do it,’ Adam thought.

“Your father, he is not an Iyrman.”

‘Jurot, not like this.’

“He is a half elf.”

‘Jurot!’

“You and I are Iyrmen.”

Virot held her papo’s gaze within her own eyes, long and hard, and then, slowly, she turned her head towards her father, narrowing her eyes. “Papo is daddy?”

“You!” Adam reached out to his daughter, picking her up. “How can you be papo’s daughter when you cause so much trouble like your kaka?”

“No!” Virot smirked.

“Your sister, she causes trouble because she is my daughter, because I am daddy!”

“Ah!” Virot gasped, completely understanding that her daddy was her daddy, because it was he who was so troublesome.

“That’s right! Daddy is trouble, and your kaka causes so much, because she is daddy’s daughter!”

“Virot is daddy’s dohta?”

“That’s right! Forever and always!” Adan pulled the girl to his chest, peppering her with kisses all over, though she squirmed and escaped to her elder sister, who hugged her tight, smiling towards her father.

“Daddy is my daddy, because daddy is an Iyrman, and Damrot is an Iyrman too,” Damrot said.

“That is right,” Jurot said.

“Papo, you are not an Iyrman?” Damrot asked.

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“It’s sort of like how your mother isn’t an Iyrman.”

“Mummy is an Iyrman,” Damrot returned.

“Is she?”

Damrot looked towards his mother, then, up to her forehead. His brows furrowed. What happened to the tattoos on her forehead? “Mummy, your tattoos are gone?”

“I didn’t have tattoos.”

Damrot turned to his father, an incredulous look within his eyes, denoting just who he spent so much time with.

“Your mother is not an Iyrman, but she is your mother,” Jurot said.

Damrot looked down at his food, and as he did so, the boy’s face began to contort, and as he began to cry, Virot, too, began to cry, and soon they were within Adam’s arms, the half elf holding the most guilty of smiles upon his lips.

Pam reached up to her lips, glancing aside to her husband, who was also doing his best not to crack a smile. “I should start to teach him about my side of the family.”

“Mm…” Jurot replied.

“Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

“Of course!” came the echo, and a moment later, even the sniffling children spoke the words.

As the children eventually gathered themselves, and Damrot was trapped within his mother’s arms, and Virot within her papo’s arms, Jirot stopped Jurot from stepping away.

“You are so funny, papo.”

“Yes.”

Jirot slowly nodded, and with that, she stepped away, following her mother away, though soon her feet were floating in the sky. She turned her head, seeing her greatfather’s eyes staring into her eyes.

“I said it is my turn today…” Jarot warned, already holding Jarot within an arm, the boy half flying from beside his greatfather.

“Ah…” Jirot replied simply, and with that, she was taken away by the old man, allowing Xarot to be spoilt between his mother and father.

Xarot, however, was fast asleep, and as his mother placed him down, she turned to find her husband hadn’t followed them inside.

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

I wrote it last chapter, but Jurot is hilarious.