“It is such a shame he is already married,” the Malika stated, cutting into the meat, the mithril knife sliding through the meat as though it were made of butter, and once she had cut it thinly, barely as large as the first digit upon her pink, she tried to bite into it, only for her daughter to cut the meat into smaller chunks.

The Amira didn’t want to admit it, but even she had thought the same. Certainly, he was a fool, however, if he was so adoring for his children, for his wife, stronger than their greatest warriors at a third of their age, and if he was the Enchanter, he would have made a wonderful husband, a great Amir, and perhaps, a decent enough Malik when she would take the title of Shen.

“All of you may leave us,” the Malika said, dismissing the guards, who glanced between one another, but only did so as the Amira nodded, all but a single guard stepping away, the guard who wore all white, from head to heel, and carried a thin blade at her side.

“He is crazy as Entalia stated,” Miriam stated, letting out a soft sigh, which had pressed upon her shoulders.

“Crazier,” Anastasha admitted. “To think he may very well be the Enchanter…”

Miriam rubbed her ring gently, feeling its magical might, the half elf certainly the Enchanter within her mind. Perhaps he wasn’t, but it made too much sense for him to be the Enchanter, for not only had he known the enchantment upon the weapon, but the pride within his eyes when he saw it had revealed it to her. Then again, he could have been related to the Enchanter in some way, which was equally as likely, and made little to no difference in the way she needed to treat him.

‘I will need to use honey, not steel, to earn his favour.”

Meanwhile the Radiant Blade’s eyes widened. She had paid some attention to the half elf, but seeing the apprehension within his eyes as their eyes had met, she understood he knew his place between them. ‘He is the Enchanter?’

Miriam and Anastasha sat and ate, conversing not just about the half elf, but all that Anastasha had learned.

“How is it that a stranger can come into our temple and speak tales of the world to me, but my own daughter will not?” Anastasha asked, reaching up to hold her own cheek, letting out a tired sigh.

“You grow too weary when you are excited, mother,” Miriam replied, holding her mother’s hand, feeling how thin they had become, recalling how much softer, larger, they had been when she was a tiny little girl.

“To tire is to live.”

Miriam continued to hold her mother’s hand, until she finally grew too weary, needing to retire early. The woman spent half the day in bed, and the other half the day within her chair, barely moving. Even her guards barely allowed her to lift her own fork and knife to eat. However, Miriam did her best to allow her mother to live outside the bounds set by those who were to serve her.

As the evening passed, Adam and his cohort took the Malika’s offer to stay within an estate managed by the royal family, partly for two of their company.

Adam’s hands remained crossed behind his back as Kizwolima ran through the centre of the various fountains, which shot a gentle spray out along the large pathway, allowing one to cool themselves on a hot noonval day. The girl squealed and laughed with delight. Adam closed his eyes, thinking of his children, who, when they were but babes, would sit within tubs and play with the water, though he had to pay keen attention to them since otherwise they would drown, not an issue when one was a child of the sea.

The half elf’s mind fell silent. No longer did he think of his children, but the anxiety.

‘I’m strong,’ the half elf thought. He had known it for a while, and he had already admitted to it, but he had thought it was a coincidence, lying to himself so blatantly. However, now that he had faced so many powerful foes, only knowing fear towards one of them, who he had still beaten, but had sparked his nerves, the half elf could no longer pretend.

XP: 32 100

It was enough.

Yet, as he thought about it, he could not dare to spend the XP.

His heart wavered at the thought.

Certainly, he would grow so much more powerful. Perhaps so powerful, he would no longer feel the need to fear the one known as the Poison Sword Dragon, but…

Just how much of the world was he willing to risk?

If he did, what if it appeared?

The half elf inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh. He opened his eyes, staring at Kizwolima, feeling a presence beside him.

“Bael?”

“Yes?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I would not mind it.”

“How long would it take you to grow as powerful as Lady Jaeryael?” the half elf asked, as though it was a simple matter.

Bael tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brows, considering all that he knew of the old lady, as well as what he knew about himself, and the special conditions which he possessed, almost uniquely. “A few hundred years, she would consider me a minor threat, but in a millennium, she would need to think twice before engaging me.”

“A thousand years, huh?” Adam’s eyes remained on Kizwolima, but his eyes saw through Kizwolima towards his thoughts. “That’s too much time.”

“It’s difficult to speed it up, but if I had to take a guess, at my quickest, five hundred years, but there is nothing greater than time,” Bael admitted.

“I guess I’ll have to do it in about a hundred,” the half elf said, still staring towards Kizwolima, without realising the insanity of his words, which caused even Bael’s eyes to dart towards him.

The half dragon, who was certainly a dragon, eyed up the half elf, who had spoken such terrifying words. Yet, he noted the half elf hadn’t realised just how ridiculous the words were. Bael’s lips formed a wild grin, the half dragon tilted his head, flexing his muscles, before crossing his arms.

‘A hundred years?’ Bael thought. ‘I’ll do it in ninety nine!’

Jurot and Kitool both glanced between each other, their eyes then falling upon Uli, who stared at the half elf in shock, raising his brow. He had not yet realised the depths of Adam’s insanity if he could still be surprised.

The half elf eventually sat upon within the centre of a smaller garden, about a quarter gahdun, and inhaled deeply, the flower all around him swaying lightly in the noonval breeze. The sweet floral scent entered his lungs, but with each breath, the half elf let his mind wander, then still, wander, then still, until finally his mind was only focused upon it.

‘Belle.’

[…]

‘I’m still pretty sure you’re an aspect of Bell, and considering how much time I spent within the Dome of Balance, I feel like I might as well have a little chat with you.’

[…]

‘How have you been?’

[…]

‘Do you have any dreams?’

[…]

‘Alright, fine, I’ll just spend some XP on some stuff then…’

Adam noted the various features he had access to.

‘Okay, at least answer this, because it’s dangerous. If I dip into Warlock, is Baktu my Patron, or am I selling my soul to some other fellow?’

[Baktu has assumed all responsibility as your Patron.]

‘Don’t answer like a politician, give me a straight yes or no on whether it’s Baktu!’

[Yes.]

‘It is Baktu?’

[Yes.]

‘Listen, man, being the most annoying person in the group is my thing, and you’re not allowed to take that from me.’

[…]

XP: 32 100 - 31 100

Feat Gained: Skill Expert

Charisma: 16 - 17

Skill Gained: Medicine

Mastery Gained: Arcane Lore

Though Adam did not like that he had an odd number for one of his Attributes, he was too afraid to increase it any further, just in case.

He thought of the various Abilities of the various Classes he could take, but each time he thought about taking something, his heart throbbed, filling him with a greater anxiety. There were too many things that could increase his combat capabilities, even incidentally, and he did not best not to pick those.

‘It was cheaper to take it from Rogue, but at the same time…’ Adam wasn’t sure if he wanted to dip into various different Classes, and if he did procure it from Rogue, perhaps it would have counted as a combat ability. It was quite tempting, however, especially since he could increase his capabilities with Athletics and Medicine, and eventually, if he so wished, another two. He thought about which he would increase, but assumed Perception, Persuasion, or Intimidation would be best.

‘Oh? I can take Feats multipl-‘

Adam blinked, as though he had been slapped in the face.

‘For how much XP? Hello? Who do you think you are? Buddy, do you think I’m made of XP?’

----------------------------------------

Adam keeps saying its name wrong, but at least this time he didn't. 

----------------------------------------