41. A Story to be Told

41. A Story to be Told

“I am certain this is the first time we have met, Adam, son of Fate,” Sonarot eventually said, unsure of whether they should kill the half elf.

“This is the first time you’ve met me,” Adam replied, nodding his head.

“You have met me before?” Sonarot asked, quickly picking up what he was saying.

“In another life.” Adam felt a little silly saying it, but it was the truth.

Sonarot continued to feel the smooth handle within her grasp, feeling the pattern of her family. “What do you mean by that?”

Adam swallowed. He threw a glance to Jurot, and then returned his gaze to Sonarot. “I...” Being confronted by the question, he wasn’t sure what to say. “I, uh...”

‘Two swings,’ Sonarot thought. ‘No, three.’ Three would kill the boy, she was sure of it. However, she’d leave Argon to that matter, since he was clutching one of the gems in his hands. He flashed it to her, letting her see it through her peripheral vision.

Red.

‘Magic?’ she thought, staring at the half elf. ‘Well, he is feyblooded.’

“Last time...” Adam glanced towards the ground. “Our meeting now is different. Very different. Last time you welcomed me, but that was because...” Adam threw a look to Jurot, then to Argon, who remained stone faced, and finally back to Sonarot, who waited patiently. He sighed, unable to figure out what he should say. “Anyway, I would like to enchant an axe for Lana,” he said, pausing for only a moment, “my little sister.”

“Your little sister?” Sonarot asked, staring at him, confused. She had thought it was for Lanarot, whose name was only known by her brother and sister, and by her deceased parents, who had asked her to name her child such many years ago. Not even that old Jarot knew the name she had picked out, but that was only because it was fun to not tell him.

“She had lost her brother before she was born,” he said, staring into Sonarot’s eyes. “So I became her older brother.”

Sonarot, even in her tired state, understood what he was saying, reading between the lines. She softened slightly. “You have quite the story to tell. Let’s eat, and you can tell us over food.” She wasn’t sure who or what he was, but considering how much he knew, it was dangerous not to ask, and there seemed to be something more to the story than he cared to say in his tense state.

“I will, but I need to speak with Chief Iromin first, though Asomin is fine too.” Adam then wondered if Asomin held the same sway as he had previously.

Jurot threw a look to Adam. “Why Asomin?” He wondered why he needed to speak with the grandson of the Chief.

“He’s not so bad,” Adam replied, smirking at Jurot. “Nor are Rendor or Gidian. Gorot, Mirot, Nirot, and Turot are pretty good too.”

“You’ve told him quite a lot about our family and the Iyr, haven’t you?” Sonarot said, reaching up to brush Jurot’s hair gently.

Adam’s lips couldn’t help but twitch as he saw the sight. He was glad to see it, the way the pair of them behaved to one another.

“No,” Jurot said. “I didn’t.” He narrowed his eyes, the distance between his hand and axe begging to be shortened. “You know a lot about our family.”

“You’re very hospitable,” Adam admitted.

He could see the gears turning in Jurot’s mind. This entire time, he had thought Adam was suspicious, but this had really set off his gut. “I never mentioned their names.”

“No, I don’t believe you did.” Adam nodded his head, agreeing with the Iyrman. “Sonarot did, though.”

“No, mother didn’t.” Jurot’s eyes twitched, filling with fury. “You shouldn’t lie to Iyrmen.”

Adam chuckled. “I’ll tell you one day, Jurot, but today isn’t that day.” He kept smiling as Jurot glared at him. Then he returned his gaze to Sonarot. “I will speak with you and Chief Iromin together, if you prefer.”

Sonarot stared at Adam long and hard. He knew so much about her family, and yet, she knew nothing of him. ‘Dangerous,’ she thought. ‘He’s dangerous.’

Argot waited for the signal, wondering what Sonarot would call for.

However, Adam had said something earlier, something which had piqued her interest. “I will call for a meeting,” she said, nodding her head slowly. She stood, placing a hand on her stomach.

Adam almost stood up, but realised he was still a stranger, so looked to Jurot, who was glaring at him. “What are you doing? Your mother needs your help.”

Jurot squinted his eyes, but quickly stood to assist his mother, who seemed to be having trouble. “Mother, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Jurot. I’ve just been tired recently.”

Adam looked to Sonarot with his brows raised. ‘Not quite a lie, but even now she’s not going to tell him?’

“Do you need to rest?” he asked, before switching to their tongue to say something else.

Sonarot let out a soft scoff at his words, brushing his hair. “No, no. It’s alright.” Jurot shouldn’t kill Adam, yet.

Jurot squinted back at Adam suspiciously, but Argon had stepped between them, making sure there was going to be nothing hapenning between the pair.

Adam glanced at Jurot and Argon, who had followed, still unsure of the half elf.

After some time, the Chief stepped out. He was an older man, with long hair which was dyed red, streaks of white breaking up the redness. He was clean shaven, with a strong jaw, a wide, flat nose, and small eyes. He was fairly lean for an older man, and walking with the floating grace of a butterfly. He was dressed in the finest of silks, black like starless night, with golden thread which darted all along the hem, the thread forming some kind of patter. At his side was a longsword, the very same longsword he had seen in his previous life, made of a fusion of bone and metal.

The Chief had expected to speak with the half elf, though there was a chance he would have died. They had given him enough trust to speak with Sonarot first, and now that he had kept their trust, it was only right to speak with him.

Adam sighed, flashing a smile towards the familiar face. “Chief Iromin,” he said, greeting the older man. ‘This time I’m not as strong as last time, so he probably won’t ask for a fight.’

“You must be Adam, son of Fate,” he said. His voice was like ash, airy and with little substance, but it burned with passion. He reached out a hand to shake Adam’s, who accepted.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you for the first time, again,” Adam said, chuckling lightly. Once again he felt the firm handshake, which betrayed the great pool of strength the older man possessed. “I see you’re as strong as ever.”

Iromin narrowed his small eyes. “We have never met,” he said, firmly.

“You have never met me,” Adam said, before throwing a look to Sonarot. “I come with news of a potential threat to the Iyr, and one hell of a story.”

Iromin nodded his head slowly, understanding what he meant, even if he didn’t know what hell was. “Come with me,” he said, leading the half elf towards the courtyard.

Adam looked back to Sonarot, who didn’t step forward. “Sonarot should hear this too.”

Iromin beckoned her to follow too, before they stepped into the courtyard. It was more like a garden, with four stone paths which converged towards a large gazebo.

As they sat, Adam glanced around, noting they were the only three here, or at least, that’s what he saw. ‘I wonder if there are Iyrmen in the shadows.’ He didn’t bother trying to look too hard, as there was no need for so many Iyrmen when the Chief would be enough to kill him in the span of seconds.

“What is it that brings you so far away from your home,” Iromin said, staring at the half elf. He reached down into a box, and began to place out various dried snacks, as well as pouring some water, which was flavoured with bits of vegetables from the cold box he kept under the seats.

“The God of Chaos, and a death,” Adam said, “but that’s the story, and I should probably begin with the warning. A question. To the west, in the forest, is there an obelisk, and around it, a forest of purple corruption and ooze?”

“I cannot speak to you of the obelisk, but there is no purple corruption or ooze,” Iromin replied, wondering how Adam knew of the obelisk. It was safeguarded by the secret town of the Iyr.

“Good, good,” Adam said, nodding his head and sighing in relief. “However, if there ever comes a day when corruption appears, I ask of you, no, I beg you, to send either an entire army to destroy it. The army needs to be full of people whose minds and bodies are resistant to being controlled by other entities. If you can’t do that, then run. Run very far away, and warn as many people as you can.”

Iromin raised his brow towards the young man, wondering how he could ask an Iyrman to run away from such a threat.

“It was a story that your grandson chose to...” Adam paused, rubbing his forehead. “No. I’m getting ahead of myself.” He glanced between Sonarot and Iromin. “There are some secrets which can’t leave the conversation between us.”

“That is a role for Elder Story,” Iromin said. “I cannot promise you that the secrets will remain between us.”

Adam glanced to Sonarot. “Can I trust Elder Story?”

“It is up to Elder Story whether they allow the story to circulate within the Iyr.”

Adam remained quiet for a long moment. “Then the question isn’t whether they will circulate the story, but whether I can trust them with the story. No offence, but I don’t know this Elder Story. I know you, and I know the Chief, you’ll understand what I mean by that once you hear my story.”

Sonarot wasn’t sure what he was asking, exactly. “I trust Elder Story, as all Iyrmen trust the Great Elders and Chiefs. They would not be our Great Elders or Chiefs if we didn’t trust them.”

“It was a stupid question, I know, but I needed to hear it from you.” Adam leaned back in the seat. “So, where is this Elder Story?”

“I will lead you to Elder Story,” Iromin said, standing up. “I’ll send for a palanquin.” Iromin quickly sent for a palanquin, which was raised by a pair of Iyrmen, who assisted Sonarot into it before they began to follow the Chief.

The other Iyrmen who had travelled with Adam here had left, leaving them to their business.

The Chief led the group towards the side of the first layer of the Iyr, heading near the gate of the Big Iyr, but into a tunnel, which wrapped around and went upwards on a light incline. They walked for a few minutes, the path illuminated by tiny gems which gently glowed in the dark, runes connected each together. Then they came to a courtyard, no larger than those he had seen thus far, with a field of various flowers and herbs all about them. The wall opposite was covered by vines.

Adam inhaled the air deeply, feeling the refreshing aura. ‘Whoa!’ The aches within his body soon disappeared, and he could even feel a tingling within him, feeling the magic in his body surge.

The pair of Iyrmen took their place opposite one another next to a particular section of the wall with a path leading towards it. Adam glanced between them, and Iromin motioned a hand to the path.

Adam walked over to it, and Iromin motioned for him to sit. He did so, and remained quiet.

“You may begin your tale,” Iromin said.

“Oh, right.” Adam cleared his throat. “My name is Adam, son of Fate, and this is my third life.”

Click banner for Patreon and come join my too!

Do you think Adam will die next chapter?