“Mister Adam, can you beat up dragons?” Kizwolima asked, drawing with her little stylus, borrowed from the half elf. 

“Some dragons, probably,” the half elf admitted. 

“Why?”

“I’m blessed by the Divine, so I can fight a lot of powerful beings, but not all of them. One day, I’ll be so strong I’ll be able to defeat all the dragons, perhaps?”

“Wow, mister! I know a dragon! She lives really close to my village! Um, she, she lives one week away, which is a long time, but mother and father say she lives close. Her name’s Lady Urkina.”

“Hmm? You know Great Urkina?”

“Not Great Urkina, Lady Urkina!”

“Is she a dragon turtle?” the half elf asked.

“Mhmm!”

“Huh?” The half elf sat up. “I didn’t know you knew Lady Urkina!”

“She swims over our village when it’s Bubble Burst Day! I saw her last year, and she’s sooo big, even bigger than you mister, and bigger than the sky!”

“She’s not that big, but I know what you mean,” the half elf replied excitedly. “I know Lady Urkina! We’ve met!”

“Wha!” Kizwolima stopped doodling, the girl’s mouth forming a tiny circle.  

“When we were travelling back from the tournament we ended up meeting Kes-, Lord Keswing, but we also met Lady Urkina. My cousin, Jaygak, she gifted Lady Urkina a powerful magical sword!”

“Wow!”

“Right? Isn’t she so impressive? Her will is greater than steel! There are times when she can defeat even the likes of me! Especially when it comes to speaking so terribly and wickedly, I don’t think I’m able to defeat her!” The half elf cackled, causing the girl to cackle too. “I’ll ask Tagak to tell you her tales, since he’s probably not shameless enough to refuse that!”

“Oh… no… it’s okay…” Kizwolima shook her head, suddenly withdrawing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to bother mister Tagak…”

“Hmph! If he dares to trouble you, you tell mister Adam, alright? I’ll teach him a lesson!”

Kizwolima closed her book and handed it and the stylus to the half elf. “I’m going to bother mister Bael!”

“Alright, alright…” The half elf watched her rush away towards Bael, who was lazing under the sun, though sat up once the girl approached. ‘Should I beat Tagak up a little? Just one or two times daily until he learns his lesson.’

John and Yasha ended up eyeing up the half elf. They both wondered if Adam was like that, or rather, how it came to be that he had become so good with children. John, working up the courage, finally approached to ask.

“I haven’t known him long, but for something like that…” Tork reached up to scratch his chin. “You should probably ask his brother, he’s know best.”

John couldn’t deny the horc’s words, his eyes darting to the side, towards the Iyrman who was whittling away. 

Jurot paused to consider the question, feeling John’s expectant gaze upon him. “Do you know of his eldest child?”

“Konarot?”

“Do you know of his first child?”

“Konarot?”

“No,” Jurot stated calmly. “His first children were Jirot and Jarot.”

Even Tork raised his brows at the words, having followed the young father to the Iyrman, the curiosity seeped deep within his heart. 

Jurot closed his eyes, feeling the ghost of the rain from his memories, the pitter patter against his skin, the heaviness of his clothing, the softness of the water. His eyes fell towards Adam, who leaned backwards, thinking of troublesomeness, before his eyes darted towards Dunes, who napped within the shade. It was the only time Adam had shown such a look towards one of his allies, and it was all for, at the time, goblins. 

“Come,” Jurot said, standing, feeling the ache within his heart. 

John and Tork blinked, but they followed the Iyrman, Nobby, Nirot, Mork, Tanagek, and Chosen joining them, following the Iyrman to the market. Jurot perused the markets, ignoring all the stares and glares, his eyes focused upon every small trinket, wooden or otherwise, which he could procure.

Adam had barely scratched the surface of the capital, and though Dunes had wished to take him out to see all the various gardens, parks, museums, temples, and landmarks of the capital, including the likes of the Ice Castle, they had all seen how on edge the half elf had been, and even after facing so many great figures, the half elf seemed eager to draw his axe. 

However, the half elf had explored so many of the markets within the capital.

“I would like all of this,” Jurot said, motioning his hand from one end of the table to the next, easily a hundred ribbons on full display for the Iyrman.

“Yes?” the merchant replied, the woman bringing her scarf up to cover the lower half of her face, though he brows remained furrowed. 

The Iyrman placed down a handful of silver and gold, allowing the woman to count, and she bowed her head, allowing the Iyrman to fill his small scarf, tying it, before continuing to fill his scarf with more and more, in the way the Aswadians sometimes filled their scarves to carry their effects. 

“Adam’s eldest five each like shiny objects,” the Iyrman said. “The triplets enjoy silver the most, the twins enjoy all that is shiny and colourful. Silver is pricey, but our budget is as deep as a lake when the matter concerns gifts, especially gifts for the children, his own and other.”

John listened intently to the Iyrman’s words, even as he continued.

“You should buy gifts for his children, you will not pay for them, the business has managed to procure the patronage of the Shen, but you must pick with your heart. What would your children enjoy? What would any child enjoy? What would you, as a child, enjoy?”

John’s eyes fell across the myriad of gifts he could buy for the children, his heart uncertain. He bought bits and pieces, and seeing as the half elf’s children liked shiny objects, he bought small badges, in which dozens of glass pieces, each varying colours, were placed within, while the wood was settled around the edges. 

Jurot handed a silver coin to each of the children to assist him. “Do you see? In every city, there are such children, porter children, urchins who assist with carrying wares. They are those plagued by misfortune, you, too, were a porter child?”

“For a few years,” John confirmed. 

Jurot bowed his head, and they continued to buy all manner of gifts, before finally, the Iyrman invited them to eat at a restaurant, in which his group caught many eyes, for how many Iyrmen were a part of it? 

“Jabal Adh Dahab,” Jurot said. “Mountain of Gold.”

John remained silent, sipping his kafa, the sweetness dancing along his tongue, causing him to wince lightly. It was too sweet, the young man pouring in more milk to soften the taste, the tartness of the milk cutting the sweetness in half. 

“A city called the Mountain of Gold. We stay within one of the royal family’s estates. How many estates do they posses? How many are finer? Grander? In a short time, we will return to the estate. In one moment, there are children who are too poor to live. In the next, there are fountains which spray water at every moment, so close to a desert? This is normal to you, for you are Florian, and it is normal to the Aldish, it is normal to the Aswadian, but for we of the Iyr, who you call savages, beasts, demons, we do not think it is normal.” Jurot sipped his kafa lightly, closing his eyes. 

John had already known the rumours of the Iyr and its children, though it mostly extended to the deaths of a child. 

“Within the Iyr, how many children do we allow to go hungry? How many children do we allow to drown within the rain? How many children do we allow to freeze within the snow? How many children do we allow to stab another for coppers? How many do we allow nobles to pluck for their own machinations? How many children are found within the river, because they invited us to visit, and how many have their tongues cut out, because they dared to assist us?” Jurot closed his eyes, his thoughts falling to the boy they had found within the river, and to George, whose voice only came through the necklace Adam had enchanted for him. 

Tork glanced aside to John, the horc recalling just how much the business watched over its own people, but so many of the protections were based upon the children. However, it wasn’t just Adam who was insane about the children, but so much of the Iyr, which afforded all of its children a noble’s education, as a right, rather than as a privilege. 

“Adam eats when he is hungry and bathes when he is dirty,” Jurot said, and with that, the Iyrman fell silent. 

It was later in the evening when he swung his axe, training harder than he had in a long while, more so than even John. His entire body glistened with sweat as his heart pounded hard within his chest, but even so, he could not force away the throbbing. 

“What is the matter?” called a gentle voice.

“Jarot… is he eating well?” Jurot sighed, for though he could clash blades with King Merryweather, he was unable to feed the boy. Just how much strong would he have to become in order to ease the boy’s heart, that adorable nephew of his, who smiled so much whenever he saw his uncle, and would share his kisses freely?

Jurot tensed up, the rage rising to the surface, but he forced it away, as he was a Rot. “We must reach the Peak.”

Kitool remained silent, watching Jurot cut into the darkness that plagued his heart. ‘What was it that awoke such a deep pain?’

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I miss our little troublemakers.