John eyed up the various scarves, noting all the patterns, though he didn’t understand what they meant. He should have asked Mo Dunes to come along so he didn’t accidentally propose to the Ray, though recalling what the half elf had said, and what others had said, he ended up buying a white scarf and a yellow scarf, each plain, for the Ray. At the very least, they probably didn’t signify anything too untoward, and they were the cheapest, though he bought the finer cloth, which felt almost like silk to his rough hands. 

Nirot ended up buying six turbans, four for her younger brothers, one for her cousin, Churot, who probably would hate it, but it was a gift more so for her grandparents, and the last for Lanarot, because even if turbans were typically for men, wouldn’t she look so adorable in a turban? Then, couldn’t she use that to…

Adam closed his journal, narrowing his eyes, feeling a chill upon the air. He remained staring at his journal for a long while. 

“What is wrong?” Dunes asked, relaxing within the shade. 

“I sense a disturbance in the Force,” the half elf joked, though it was heavy, Dunes barely understanding it as a reference to one of Adam’s favourite tales, but there was something deeper within. 

“…”

“…”

Adam then checked his pouch, noting all the rings within, the plain silver and gold rings which were often used as currency within the land, though mostly within the capital. He let out a soft sigh, the half elf wondering what else he could spend all the gold on. However, it was something else which brought him great anxiety. 

They were spending roughly a week within the capital doing nothing in particular. At first he wanted to explore, but he realised just how many chances that would allow him to causing trouble, so the half elf remained chained within the guest estate. 

‘I could Fabricate so many jeticule weapons right now, but…’ The half elf’s eyes turned to Uli, who remained nearby at all times. “Hey, Kal Uli?”

“Yes?”

“Are you married?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have children?”

“Yes.”

Adam turned to face Dunes, blinking. “Look at this guy! I mean, it’s rather impressive that you heard me gush about my family daily, and not once you mentioned you had your own family! No wonder you’re a Black Lion like that, when you have so much willpower!”

Though the half elf’s tone was playful and teasing, Uli could see the genuine awe the half elf held within his eyes. 

“Come on, tell us about your wife, or your husband, no judging,” the half elf said.

“Wife,” Uli replied firmly. 

“Tell us about your wife, who you’re so lucky to have married, your children, who I’m sure cause too much trouble, and probably really should be marrying at this point to give you some grandchildren, honestly, kids these days,” the half elf joked, causing Uli to almost smile from behind his mask. 

Meanwhile, Tagak spoke the tales of Jaygak to Kizwolima, who sat beside Bael, the half dragon with his arms crossed, eyes closed, barely focused upon the words of the tales. It was Bael who had asked Tagak to speak the tales of Jaygak to him, with Kizwolima at his side. 

Bael opened his eyes, his azure eyes darting towards the side, towards the guard and the missing guard, who went to deal with their guest. 

“I would like to see the royal family trouble me,” the stranger threatened, before stepping into the estate, one of the estate’s guards following, while another figure, who was uncomfortable without her armour, followed. 

The stranger was a shorter half elf, adorned within the finest of clothing, grey, almost as grey as his baggy eyes, which revealed his lack of consistent sleep for the last generation, and though he wore no weapons at his side, he certainly wielded his bodyguard better than he could a sword. A silver chain dangled from his neck, simple, pretty, and upon his fingers he wore several silver rings, though it was his grey eyes which sparkled the most, along with that wry smile of his. 

“I have heard a cousin-,” half elf began, only to pause, noting the scales of the half dragon, his wry smile dropping, his body growing cold. ‘What…’

“Kal?” the bodyguard asked, her eyes darting towards the half dragon, feeling the bored gaze upon her, causing her hair to stand on end. She reached down towards the hilt of her blade, a long sabre, rather lean for a typical sabre, but no less deadly. 

“I am Jeras Grey,” the half elf said.

Bael’s bored gaze shifted, and the half dragon nodded, allowing the half elf to continue about his business. He had no qualms with the Grey family, nor did the Grey family with his. ‘So he’s a descendant of that crazy bastard?’

Jeras’ eyes danced towards the side, to the Black Lion and the pair of Priests, each of whom were eyeing him up curiously. Jeras eyed up the half elf especially, before approaching with a more tempered walk, clasping his hands behind his back. “Are you the one they call the Crazy Father?”

“Something like that,” Adam replied. 

“I am Jeras Grey, of the Grey family, cousin,” Jeras stated, motioning a hand towards the seat. “May I?”

“Adam Fate, of the Rot family,” Adam replied, sitting up a little taller. “Sure.”

Jeras sat, placing a hand upon the table, holding a silver coin within. “Heads or tails?”

“They say tails never fails, but I always pick heads,” Adam replied. 

Jeras flipped the coin, holding out his hand as he closed his eyes, the silver coin glinting brightly, before landing atop his palm. “What is it?”

“Heads,” Adam said. 

Jeras opened his eyes, not checking the coin, holding it out for the half elf. “Consider this meeting your good fortune, Adam Fate, of the Rot family. Any relation to Giahroh?”

“Not by blood, but by heart,” the half elf replied, shaking his head towards the coin.

“Within the Iyr, only spilled blood is worth something,” the other half elf replied, chuckling. “Insaf, you don’t have to remain standing.”

“I do,” the woman replied, her eyes focused entirely upon the half elf before her.  

Jeras narrowed his eyes, before his eyes fell to Adam. “Considering my wife is a Grandmaster, you must be quite capable if she can’t let down her guard.”

Adam’s lips formed a wide smile. “Something like that.”

“I heard the estate has turned away a hundred nobles, each wishing to meet with you,” Jeras said. 

“Is that right? I didn’t notice.” Adam blinked, turning to face Dunes. “Well, well, well, aren’t we popular?”

“I understand it would be troublesome, so if you are in need of a merchant to deal with the hassle, I would be willing to assist.”

“Right now we work on a more intimate level, but should we need someone to deal with the annoyances we don’t like to deal with, I’ll be sure to call on you, Jeras Grey.”

“Kal Jeras Grey, but we are friends here, aren’t we?”

“We’ll see about that,” the half elf replied, still smiling. “You’re a merchant? What do you deal with?”

“I deal with weaponry, of various kinds, from those made by the hands of humans, inasir, elves, and, since we have little to do with politics, dwarves.”

“Oh?” Adam raised his brow. “Interesting.”

Dunes also raised his brows, realising which Grey family this half elf was from. He glanced aside towards Adam, wondering if he understood, but considering the lack of common sense, he definitely did not. 

“We have a wonderful greatsabre made by an inasir, Lord Shamal Safal, a descendant of Lord Shaharaz Safal, Fire King of the Sun.”

‘Fire King of the Sun is such a great title,’ Adam thought, slowly nodding his head. “Is is magical?”

“Not magical, but there is nothing mundane about the sword, which is as tall as my beautiful wife,” Jeras said. 

Adam’s eyes darted to the woman, noting she was tall, about as tall as him, and his eyes fell back to the merchant. “You’re pretty sly, huh?”

“I am?”

“You just wanted to show off your beautiful wife to me, but I’ll have you know, my wife is the most beautiful!” The half elf tapped his chest with a thumb, flexing his bicep towards the other half elf. “So, how much is this grandsabre of yours?”

“I could not part with it to anyone.”

“Fair enough,” the half elf replied, giving up instantly on the blade. 

“Though, are you just anyone?”

“You tell me.”

“I do not know,” the merchant admitted. “I heard you have fought a great many warriors.”

“I have.”

“Who was the greatest you have faced.”

“I faced? I’m not sure. I’ve beaten? Probably a Grand Commander.”

“A Grand Commander?”

“Yeah.”

“Which Grand Commander?”

Adam waved his hand. “I’ve probably beaten like five of them at this point in time.”

Jeras howled with laughter, slapping the table, though suddenly his demeanour changed, his grin growing wild like a beast’s. “I would like to see it! This strength of yours that allows you to defeat Grand Commanders!”

“I’ve fought so much recently,” the half elf admitted, sighing, glancing aside to Kizwolima, then to Taygak. “I suppose… I don’t know, it feels weird beating your wife up in front of you.”

“Why are you pretending as though you will not beat her up in front of the children?” Bael asked. 

Adam’s cheeks flushed a red as he was called out so brazenly. “I guess you’re right.”

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Dunes, come on. Don't call out Adam like that...