[1286] – Y06.186 – A LONG LIFE I

“Are you too hot?” Jurot asked, holding a hand above the bird, which tweeted affirmatively. “I will find water.”

Nobby followed the Iyrman through the road, glad there were large scarves all about providing a gentle shade, even if he was able to bear the heat due to his intense training from the Iyrman throughout the years. The times he had spent searing under the sun, the time he had spent within the snow, it had all provided him protection against such terrible weather, and in his rage, the weather would not distract him. 

The pair eventually returned, having spent piles of gold upon the first day of gift buying, but seeing the large board before the four to one side, they realised they did not spend as much as someone in particular. 

Kizwolima gasped, her head darting towards the half elf as she pointed to the pieces on the tray in front of them. 

“I know, I know,” Adam said, smiling wider as he had gathered a silver, bronze, and three particular red tiles, claiming one of the better songs. “I have composed my song.”

The others glanced between one another, for while Dunes had gathered the singular gold piece in the set, as well as one of the silver pieces, he had not managed to gain the bronze piece he had been searching for. He only had one tile left to gather, but unfortunately he was unable to find that particular bronze piece.

Meanwhile, Yasha stared down at her own pieces, counting all the bronze pieces and the red pieces she had gathered. She couldn’t believe that she had managed to gather all but one of the bronze pieces she needed for her own song, however her current song was certainly worth a lot, and she had managed to compose a few more lower ranking songs with the rest of her pieces. She didn’t need to swap a piece, so she nodded towards the half elf.

Zabir stared at his pieces. He glanced between the two sets, wondering which one he should use since they were both worth the same. 

“Okay, ready?” Adam asked, and with the various nods, he revealed his first song, one of the few silver songs within the set. “The Aswadian National Anthem! Praise Be to Light!”

“Oooh,” Zabir let out an impressed sigh, shaking his head lightly, turning his head towards Dunes, who frowned slightly. 

“One of Scholar Hatim’s pieces,” Dunes said. “The Rain Hides Tears.”

“The Marching of the Sun,” Yasha said, frowning slightly, since Adam had the piece she needed for the song that would match the national anthem. 

“Shukhur,” Zabir said, turning his own tray around. “The Rising Sun!”

“Woo! Kizwolima! You see that!” Adam said, holding up a hand, the girl slapping his hand in a high five. “My taste in women, like gold. My taste in blades, like silver. The copper, it belongs to me!”

“No, no,” Dunes said, motioning towards Zabir. “The Rising Sun is considered the same as Praise Be to Light.”

“What? But it’s-, aww…” Adam frowned. “Is it one of the ones considered as good as the silver because it’s three bronze?”

“Yes.”

Adam groaned, leaning in to whisper into Kizwolima’s ear. “It’s some nonsense.”

“Nonsense?”

Adam shook his head lightly. “Alright, so we use our second songs?”

“Second songs,” Dunes confirmed, motioning a hand to Zabir, who revealed his other song, led by the bronze token, but with two reds, against Adam’s three red tokens.

“I assume the bronze is slightly better?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh no!” Adam reached up to his head, letting out an exaggerated groan. “He won, Kizwolima, he won!”

“Oh no!” Kizwolima reached up to her head, letting out an exaggerated groan.

“Oh, well. We’ll do better next time, won’t we?” Adam asked. 

“We will do better,” Kizwolima confirmed, and upon noting Adam’s hand, she gently slapped it in a low five. “Next time.”

“Next time,” Adam confirmed, ruffling the girl’s thick hair, before she shuffled away from him to go speak with Bael. “We need to buy a ton of games for the kids, and a bunch of pieces, and then, you know, we’ll have someone carve extra bits and pieces for the games at the business so we have spares, just in case.”

“We have bought many of the most popular games,” Dunes admitted. “Dragonchess, One Hundred Songs, The Golden Throne, Four Coins.”

“I should get to work on making my own game,” Adam whispered. “I haven’t seen a few of the games I would like to play, but at the same time, the game I’m thinking about tears families apart, so perhaps not…”

“What is it?”

“It’s too dangerous to bring into the world,” Adam joked, doing his best not to burst out in laughter, the only one understanding his joke. “That was a good one.”

“I could tell, because there is no shame within your eyes,” the Priest replied. 

Adam smirked lightly. “Yeah, well…”

As the day passed, the group decided to withdraw from the temple, heading to a local inn instead, though Adam handed over more pouches of silver and gold. The Malawi was uncertain if she could just allow him to leave, but recalling Dunes’ words, she let the half elf go.

‘What kind of person feels awkward in a temple?’

The inn was a fine enough enough, three behts for each person daily, though Adam made sure they could spend more than that if they needed to. A large inn with small rooms, the sandstone walls providing privacy and comfort, the various workers checking upon the large group who had paid multiple days in advance, and was in the company of a Mo of Black Mountain. 

Adam relaxed upon his bed, staring up at the ceiling, allowing Bael to watch over the girl. It was awkward since they didn’t have a woman who spoke the merman’s tongue, though he supposed he and Bael would be able to treat her appropriately, less sure how appropriate his affection was for the girl. He reached for the scarf, a simple, cheap scarf, one he had bought for himself, and wrapped it around his neck. He stared down at it for a long moment, and brushed his thumb against the soft cloth. 

‘Xarot…’ The half elf though of the birthdays which would pass by soon, but it was Xarot’s birthday which plagued him the most. 

He would miss one of his children’s first birthdays. 

He was sure it would have been difficult for him to keep that, but to think it had to happen to Xarot of all children. He thought of the boy, who smiled so joyfully, so mischievously, towards him. He recalled the coos, the gurgling, the way the boy would grab at his face, the laughter. He recalled how the boy’s chest raised and fell when he slept. He recalled the boy’s weight, the phantom sensation against his chest. 

“Okay?” Jurot asked as the half elf stepped out into the yard, unstrapping his axe, flipping it over within his hand. 

“Yeah,” Adam replied, in a way that said he was busy thinking. The half elf stood under the evening sky, purple, soon to turn black, and he swung his axe. There were others training nearby, John finishing up his evening routine with his spear, though he glanced aside to the half elf. 

Dunes also watched from the side, noting the way the half elf continued to swing his axe through the air, his mind wandering, his axe focusing it from wandering too much. 

‘If I can beat…’ Adam began, feeling the nerves in his heart. ‘No, no. I couldn’t beat him if I didn’t have all these magical items, so it’s not like I am strong. Plus, aren’t there other, stronger monsters than me? No! I can’t think like that, just in case…’

As night fell upon the inn, Ashmir continued to sip away at his drink, the entire bottle of wine slowly emptying as the minutes and hours passed by. His eyes peeked towards the half elf, who paced from one end of the wall to the next, sometimes taking out his axe, cutting into the air. 

“Adam,” Ashmir finally called, tapping the empty seat in front of him.

Adam dropped down opposite the Lion King, upon the wooden chair, having forgotten it had no pad, causing him to wince. Through an eye, he peered at the older Aswadian man. 

“I am old now,” Lion King admitted. “I will live for a decade at least, but after that, how long will I live? No, perhaps your Lord will take me now, or tomorrow, for who knows the time of their demise?”

Adam raised his brow, unsure of how to feel about him speaking so openly about dying. As Ashmir poured him a tiny cup of wine, the pair raised their cups together and sipped down the wine. The sharp fruity flavour pierced against the half elf’s tongue, suddenly realising why it had taken Ashmir so much time to drink it. 

“How old are you now?” Ashmir asked.

“Twenty four?”

“When I was twenty four, I trained fought in the arena, in this city,” Ashmir admitted. “I fought, and I fought, and I fought. The sun would rise, I would fight, the sun would fall, I would sleep. It was so. When I was sixteen. When I was seventeen. When I was twenty four, thirty, forty, fifty…”

Ashmir’s eyes remained fixated upon his drink. He saw through the drink to his past, to another time, though was it a better time? He was uncertain. “They call me the greatest gladiator to ever live. They said the same for the one who came before me, the one who came before him, the one who came before him, the one who came before him, the one who came before her, and the one who came before him.”

Adam stared at Ashmir’s eyes, who remained focused upon his drink. The older man continued to look through to another time. 

“You are a half elf,” Ashmir said. “When you are my age, the age of an old man, you will remain within the prime of your life. You, who has time, money, power, and more time. Is there a need for you to rush?”

“I’m a half elf, but… some of my children, all of my children, are not. They are Iyrmen, some who will live longer, some who won’t.” Adam noted Ashmir close his eyes, not wanting to see the half elf’s look. “My wife is not. My brother is not. My grandfather. My grandmother. My friends. I don’t want to rush, I have time, but I don’t have that much time with them all, ahm.”

“My youth felt a lifetime ago, but I blink, and I see my hair has grown white,” Ashmir admitted. 

“That’s how it goes,” Adam replied, nodding his head slowly. 

“I pray your life is long, full of love,” Ashmir said. 

“Yours too, ahm.”

“It is too late for me.”

Adam inhaled sharply, as the old man returned back to looking at the sour wine known as regret. “I hope not.”

Ashmir reached over towards Adam’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, for Ashmir worried enough for himself, and Adam had so many other worries to worry about. 

Bael stared at the sky, thinking upon the pair’s words, the figure remaining relaxed near the dome, and if anyone had seen him there, they would have certainly complained. He stared at the stars, each which twinkled before the first dragons, and each which would twinkle beyond the last. He had been with the group for a little over a year, but it had passed in the blink of an eye. Then, in another blink of an eye, he would see them drop, and again, and again, and even Adam, who was considered to be of a longer lived race, he, too, would drop. 

‘I can spend a century or two playing,’ Bael thought, though even the tone of his thoughts were not quite so playful.

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I just wanted to play Monopoly...