[1764] – Y07.264 – Nightval is Cold IV

“Why are you crying, young man?” the Iyrman asked. He was bronze skinned, with long hair, dark, like his eyes, and he carried a sword upon his back, one that seemed to reach the heavens.

The boy, who was six, or so, stared up at the Iyrman, and then as his eyes trailed to the side, towards the grey wall of another Iyrman, who was grey skinned, with long braided hair which fell down, and a thick beard that covered most of his lips. He, too, wore such a great blade upon his back.

The boy cried harder.

“To think we would awaken so early to the sound of death,” the Iyrman said, inhaling deeply, and as he raised his arms, he welcomed the morning dawn, as the giant seven headed hydra screeched, and leapt onto the encamped caravan. “A true delight.”

“We should assist,” the grey wall said.

“What? We? We of the Iyr, who were called cowards?” the bronze skinned Iyrman asked, turning to face the grey skinned Iyrman. “We-,”

It was then he paused, hearing a voice, which seemed to whisper along the wind, only for his ears.

“…”

“We are well, cousin Adam. There is a hydra before us. Give our greetings to the children. Timojin is still…” Amokan smiled. “You know how he is.”

“A Sending?”

“He wished to ask us if we were well.”

“To think he would worry for we,” Timojin replied, and he flexed his muscles as the hydra tossed aside a guard as though they were a bundle of cloth, and crunched another between a pair of heads, whose screams fell to silence. The grey skinned Iyrman reached up to his greatsword and stepped forward. His skin turned darker, almost purple, but it was the crimson skinned Amokan who leapt over him, and charged towards the hydra first. Amokan leapt and spun, his greatsword blurring through the air, and cut into one of the hydra’s head, which almost dropped to the earth, and Timojin’s steel sung, and the hydra’s head threatened to thud with the melody of a dying beast.

It was within the Iyr, over breakfast, Adam nodded. “Amokan and Timojin are facing a hydra, but told me to give their greetings to you. Timojin is so handsome, and muscular, as always.”

Inakan smiled. “My brother is so strong, cousin Adam.”

“He is, but is he as strong as you now?” Adam teased, reaching over to poke her nose. “The little lady with the magical gauntlets?”

“I will allow him to be stronger, for he is the big brother,” Inakan joked, cackling with delight.

“If they are facing hydras, they may be near Life River,” Jurot mused.

“Ah, so they may,” Adam replied, slowly nodding his head. “Perhaps we should have sent a few people to donate some shields…”

“We will do so next year,” Jurot assured.

“Right…” Adam leaned back slightly as Xarot began to stand atop his lap, and grabbed onto his collars with both hand.

“Daddy!”

“Yes?”

“Iz boh go?”

“You’d have to tell me.”

“Go!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go, but, when I go, I don’t want to hear that you’re crying, alright?”

Xarot blinked. The boy smiled and cackled, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on his father’s forehead, turning to flee, taking from sunrise to sunset to flee as he gripped his father’s collar tight and slowly, tentatively, stepped off his father’s lap, onto the chair, and as Jurot held a hand, the boy reached for it, though he half dropped, with Jurot’s arms catching him by his pits, and Adam catching him by his waist, placing him to the side. As the boy stabilised himself on the floor, he turned to look towards his father and papo, blinked, and then recalled what he was meant to do, and swiftly, as the full moon turned to the new moon, fled away.

“My son is so cute,” Jurot said.

Adam’s jaw dropped. “You can’t do this to me!”

As they made their way to begin their work, Afraz considered what he should do. He assisted lightly in this and that, but otherwise was mostly a guest thanks to Gangak, and, technically, he was a mentor for the business. He made his way to the business, finding a great many there, and as he greeted them, he approached the triplets, beaming down towards them.

“Shukhur, they are so handsome,” Afraz said.

“They take after their mother,” John replied.

“You sound just like my grandson!” Afraz exclaimed, patting John by his shoulders. “Oh ho. I see. Good build. You wish to learn with big sword?”

“The Executive will teach me.”

“Ah! Aha! Yes, yes, I remember.” Afraz sighed lightly, turning, finding the others relaxing that day, many completing various hobbies, others working on maintenance, of weapons, clothes, buildings, and their bodies and minds. He found a particular fellow who carried a greatsword beside him. “Yonn, yes?”

“Jonn,” Manager Jonn confirmed.

“Mm, mm. You are… a Manager.”

“Yes.”

“Mm. You wield… a big sword?”

“Yes.”

“You learned in…” He snapped his fingers. “With Kal Yamas Greatwood?”

“I was once a member of the Thousand Hunts, before they became High Garden,” Jonn confirmed.

“Mm. You still use their sword?”

“It was a gift from the Executive.”

Afraz nodded, though he considered how to word it. “What of… style?”

“I still use their sword techniques,” Jonn confirmed.

“It is good?”

Jonn slowly nodded.

“Shukhur…” Afraz stood there awkwardly a moment. “If you wish to learn, I can teach.”

Jonn slowly nodded his head, and as he tilted his head, he considered Afraz, who smiled innocently. “You wish to teach me?”

“I am old. I sit down. I do not drink. I am… so bored.”

Jonn considered who he was, and that he was a Grandmaster, or so, and he stood. “Are you a Rage Dancer?”

“No, no, Fighter.”

“Ah?” Jonn replied. He thought he had been a Rage Dancer, though he realised that, since he was from Aswadasad, it was awkward to wear heavier armour?

“I will teach you?” Afraz asked.

“Please.”

“I will see you tomorrow, when Lord Noor shows his face,” Afraz said.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Shukhur, shukhur, betta.” Afraz pat Jonn’s shoulder gently, and then turned, towards the other children, and as he noted the fellow, dark of skin, an Aswadian, he held Bilal’s gaze for a long while. He was certain Bilal was someone who was a fellow like he, a man who spilled blood. He bowed his head.

Bilal, who had once almost was given the task of killing Afraz, bowed his head in return.

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

Huh?