“A wonderful gift, truly,” the Amira replied, smiling gently, though with the understanding that this was quite the fine gift, but it was one that could be full of poison. 

Adam smiled cheekily towards the Amira, sitting up slightly taller, sipping his tea lightly, tasting the sweetness of pink, lightly spiced, unlike those within the large barrels. “Once more, thank you for carving out some time for us, we truly appreciate it.”

“It is a delight to speak with those who deal in magical goods.”

‘Since you can spend so much gold on this temple, it means you can spend quite a bit on us too, right?’ Adam’s lips formed a wider smile at his thoughts. “We have come to discuss exactly that, potential business with the royal family of Aswadasad.”

“In order to conduct such business, we should get to know one each other better, for we cannot allow our expectations to get the better of us.”

“Of course, Amira,” Adam said, feeling the pointed looks upon him, like a hundred needles piercing his neck. “What would you like to ask?”

“I have heard rumours of trouble that someone of your business has with the Order of High Garden,” the Amira replied, swinging the blade down immediately upon the half elf, her knowing eyes piercing even deeper than her words. 

“The Order has some trouble with me,” Adam confirmed, still smiling, though the light faded from his eyes. “They… killed my sons, and harmed my daughter.”

The Amira could hear the pain in the half elf’s voice, and how he did his best not to allow it to crack. “My sympathies to you, Executive.”

“Thank you.”

“Your children who were killed, is it true they were a demon and a goblin?”

“Iyrmen,” Adam corrected, his voice carrying a threatening undertone. “My children are Iyrmen, Amira. It’s why the Iyr wanted to wipe the Order out, but I managed to calm the situation, and stepped forward to deal with the matter more personally.”

“King Merryweather is still dealing with the fall out of what occurred, though the Reavers have taken away much of the attention,” Miriam said, keeping her eyes glued to the half elf’s. “What was it that you did exactly?”

“I killed the apprentice who shot my daughter, and killed the Vice Commander who killed my sons,” Adam replied, swallowing hard, while Dunes placed a hand upon his knee, squeezing it gently. “Of course, the Iyr showed its mercy in the way that it did, saving me from the wrath of so many Orders, and the King owed me a small favour from when I saved a boy he knew, totally incidentally, which is probably the most unbelievable thing.”

The Amira paid keen attention to the young man, focused on his words, the vitriol within his tone, and the awkward playfulness. 

“There was a rumour in which the Grand Commander went to the Iyr for justice.”

“It was injustice he sought, but it was justice when we fought.”

“You fought the Grand Commander?”

“I didn’t just fight him,” Adam replied, a slow smile emerging from his lips, his eyes suddenly filled with a wickedness. “I killed him, cleanly, with a beautiful blade.”

“You killed the Grand Commander?” the Amira asked, her voice neutral, but emphasised each word, hammering them upon the half elf. 

“I did.”

“How old are you, Executive?”

“Twenty four.”

“At the age of twenty four, you killed Grand Commander James Greatswood of High Garden?”

“Yes.”

“It is unbelievable.”

“Yes.”

“I am certain the Iyr would not fabricate such a story,” Miriam stated, before turning to face Jurot. “Does the High Alchemist speak truly?”

“My brother speaks true.”

“Your brother?” Miriam glanced between their tattoos, noting the similarities, though she hadn’t realised they were brothers. “Are you an Iyrman?”

“No.”

Miriam bowed her head, assuming it was the case they were close, though did not expect them to be brothers outright. “What an amazing feat.”

“Thank you.”

“I would like to request a spar between yourself and one of our great warriors,” the Amira said, her eyes now sparkling curiously towards the half elf, who claimed he could defeat the Grand Commander of High Garden, a Paragon, acting as though this was completely new information to her. 

“What a shame I didn’t bring my armour, but I suppose I could,” the half elf replied, with far too much audacity, flashing another, wider smile towards the Amira. 

“I will send for your armour,” Miriam said, calling forth for one of her guards with a finger, requesting for her to bring the half elf’s armour. “Are you the one they call the Crazy Father?”

“Yes,” Adam replied, though he was pretty sure she already knew that.

“How many children do you have?”

“Eight, though Kizwolima isn’t one of them,” the half elf, said, eyes darting down to the girl, who felt his gaze, the girl pausing for a moment. She chewed her mango a little more before swallowing it and then took another bite, even though she was going to sneakily take it into her mouth without swallowing the other mango first, the girl still having not learnt her lesson. 

“They are all Iyrmen?”

“Yes.”

“With so many children, who is such a lucky woman?”

Adam sat up a little taller. “Ray Vonda of Life’s Rose.”

The Amira remained silent for a long moment. “A Ray of Life’s Rose? Your wife demands a great respect.”

“She doesn’t demand it, but I will,” the half elf joked. “She’s the best, that much is for sure. There’s no one I can trust like her, save for Jurot, Kitool, my Aunt, my children’s babo, and Jaygak too, but please don’t tell her that, since her horns will grow too big for her head.”

The Amira narrowed her eyes. “Jaygak?”

“She travelled with us previously, but we have her cousins travelling with us. I thought to bring Taygak, but realised we had brought too many people with us already, so we left them behind.” The half elf’s lips formed an innocent smile, keeping the threat within his mind. 

“How did Kizwolima here come into your company?”

“We found her lost at sea, so we took responsibility for her,” the half elf replied, smiling.

“Do you intend to adopt her as your own?”

“I wish!” The half elf burst into laughter, causing the Amira to realise her joke hit on something much deeper. “She has her own little family that we’ll send her back to, we’re just waiting on word from the mermen.”

“How old is your oldest child, and how young is your youngest?” Miriam asked, innocently, one might have thought.

“My eldest is… Konarot. She’s five. My youngest, Xarot, is one. Well, he’ll be turning one soon, but I’ll be missing his birthday.” The half elf sighed. 

The Amira wasn’t sure what just happened, for the half elf surely adored speaking of his children, but suddenly the mood shifted until he was dour. “Is it the first time you missed your child’s birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Why will you miss this birthday?”

“While I return to enjoy their birthday, the world grows stronger, and more audacious,” the half elf replied seriously. “How dare anyone feel comfortable thinking they could kill my adorable children.”

The Amira noted the darkness within the half elf’s eyes, something which pressed upon her, though she gave no signal to her guards. The half elf had tensed up, feeling the rage overflow through his body, deep into his bones, but it quickly disappeared as Kizwolima held up her cup for the half elf to fill it. The half elf smiled, wiping her lips clean, pouring her a drink. 

“Even now, I wonder if it was right to show mercy to the Orders, but I was so worried about the Iyr.”

‘Worried about the... ?’

“I realise now, it was foolish to be worried about the Iyr,” Adam said, assuming her thoughts, for she had shown more than the appropriate respect to the Iyr. 

“I heard the Iyr killed the members of High Garden recently,” Miriam stated. “The Garden Massacre, as some call it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you break your deal with the Iyr.”

“They broke a deal with the Iyr?”

“I was to fight the Grand Commander, since he felt I was out of line for killing his child murdering Vice Commander, you know how the rich and wealthy are, always trying to protect their own,” the half elf said, his voice accusatory. “The duel was such that if I lost, they got to kill me, they were to receive what they viewed as justice, but if I won, the Iyr would take the figures as prisoners.”

Miriam did not enjoy his tone, not just the accusatory nature, but also how casual he spoke of the matter. 

“They promised they would obey, but low and behold, as I cut his neck clean off,” the half elf said, flicking his wrist as he swung an imaginary blade, showing her how easily he had dispatched the Grand Commander, “the Aldish were Aldish. Well, they were Florians, but they joined hands with the Aldish, so let’s just pretend they’re Aldish. They broke their word, unable to help their perfidious nature, and so, the Oathsworn, I know, I know, laughable as we may think, they were apparently Oathsworn, wished to drop the matter. However, they were so freely eager to step into the Iyr’s land, but not quite so free to leave, and thus, the debt was paid, through blood and steel.”

‘Blood and steel,’ the Amira thought, the words echoing in her mind. She thought of the trouble the Iyr had caused upon their border a few years ago, which had caused so much pain for them. 

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Riling Adam up before his fight is a bad idea.