324. Couldn’t Be Better
Omen: 16, 20
Lanarot stared up at Adam, her eyes wide, wondering how this could possibly be.
Adam had completed his typical routine. He woke up, worked out, bathed, and returned to eat. However, he was inspired by Katool, who had shaved the sides of her head, and decided to take dawnval in stride with a fresh new beginning.
He shaved his beard.
“What’s wrong, Lanababy?” Adam asked, holding his sister beside him.
Her eyes continued to look around Adam’s face. Everything seemed so familiar, yet so different. Adam’s freshly shaved face looked so different, and Lanarot continued to scan his features.
The girl looked to her mother. Her face began to twist. She shook. Her screeching cry pierced the air as tears fell from her eyes, and she continued to shake and cry, reaching for her mother.
Sonarot took her daughter away from Adam, who remained frozen, also in shock by her behaviour. Lanarot had never rejected him like this before, and he was processing it, just like how Lanarot had processed the stranger holding her.
“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Adam whispered. “I’m not even Black.”
Jurot threw Adam a look, trying to understand what he meant by that. From what he gathered, he assumed Adam was talking about the colour of his skin, referring to the Aswadians who made their home in middle Aswadia.
Lanarot hid herself into her mother’s chest as she calmed down, sucking against her thumb.
‘Shaving was a mistake,’ Adam thought. He hadn’t realised his adorable little sister would have reacted so harshly towards him.
“I felt so lucky today too,” Adam said, quietly.
“How lucky?” Jurot asked.
“Really lucky,” Adam replied. “I’ll probably try and enchant twice, even if it hurts.”
Sonarot patted her daughter’s back gently, and remained stone faced as she stared at Adam, whereas he tried to ignore her look. He understood that she didn’t want him enchanting so much, especially considering how much it had hurt him previously.
“Ah, speaking of which, are there any spears in the Rot family vault?” Adam asked.
“Why do you need a spear?” Sonarot asked, rubbing her daughter’s back.
“I was thinking about enchanting one,” Adam replied, vaguely. “I had a really nice idea about what to enchant it with.”
Sonarot assumed he wanted to practise with it, but could tell there was much more to it. However, Adam didn’t keep many secrets from her, save for those which were used to surprise her. He had told her his life story, which was the most ridiculous and dangerous thing she had heard, so she trusted him enough with smaller secrets.
After breakfast, Adam was taken to the family vault, following Sonarot through the long network of tunnels. Eventually they came across tunnels with letters of the Iyr’s alphabet. R. O. T.Findd new stories at novelhall.com
The plain wall ahead had forty slots, and Sonarot placed her ten coins within the slots, with Adam looking away.
Sonarot smiled, wondering why he continued to look away, but she left the matter. ‘In case you are ever kidnapped and tortured,’ she thought, remembering his excuse last time.
The wall shuddered and fell, revealing a large treasury, full of pouches, weapons, most of which were axes, armour, and all manner of treasures, all illuminated by small gems which had sparked to life once the door had opened.
Adam noted the spellbooks, and the thought came to him. ‘Does the Iyr really have no Scribe Mages?’
There were all kinds of furs, hides, leather and scales within the Rot family vault, though Adam noted the amount had increased since last time.
“How did you get so much new stuff?” Adam asked. The entire room felt so much smaller than last time, though it was easily a hundred steps side to side, and fifty deep. The doorway which led further inside seemed to have disappeared.
“You brought so much back,” Sonarot said, noting the white wolf furs, the auroch furs, and the dusk hawk feathers.
“Oh,” Adam replied. “Right.”
“Since the Flame Emperor is missing, send word that we will send any information regarding the Flame Emperor if we find any.”
“Yes, your Imperial Majesty,” the confidant replied, quickly leaving his position.
Thus Fate was forever changed.
Mana: 16 -> 12
Enchanting Check
D20 + 7 = 20 (13)
Omen: 16 -> 0
16 + 7 = 23
Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.
“Your Grace!” called the confidant to the future Emperor, taking a knee before him. “The Thunder Emperor sends his best wishes, and has sent word he will assist with information about his Imperial Majesty.”
“So news has already spread so far,” the First Flame King replied, poking his head up from his book. “So he’ll help us? I was sure that he would have started a bother with us, considering his behaviour.”
“A ploy, your Grace?”
“Perhaps.” The First Flame King wondered how he should take the news. “Or it could be the first step in him showing that he wishes to keep the peace between us.” ‘He should know about the agreements which were formed back then.’
The King sighed. ‘Father, to think even you had a childish side to you.’ “Tell the soldiers at our borders to keep an eye out, just in case.”
“All the borders?”
“Yes,” the King replied. “All of them.” He wasn’t sure what it was about the day, but he felt as though it was the right move to make.
“As you wish, your Grace.” The Confidant quickly stood, bowing before his King, before leaving.
“And...” the King called, the confidant stopping, spinning on his heel to kneel. “Take my sword and place it within the stone.”
The confidant raised his brows in alarm. “As you wish, your Grace.” At first he had thought the King was taking the news in stride, but to think he would go so far to bring back the First Flame Legion.
Each King had something in their possession which would allow them to bring forth their own legion, though it was a great price to pay. He was allowed to summon his own legion, but only at the cost of losing his sword, a great artefact.
The confidant held out his arms and accepted the sword from his King. It was made of drakkenfyre, not to be confused with the numerous things in the world called drakkenfyre or something similar, as the material was forged from the Embers and Sparks of an ancient dragon. It was a deep red, like dried blood, with specks of gold which pulsed with great magics, soon to lay dormant.
The confidant left with the sword, something which he didn’t dare to drop, for the sake of his entire family.
The First Flame King inhaled deeply. “War is on the horizon again,” he supposed. However, without his father, things would be more troublesome. ‘You won’t go off to die, will you, father?’
Thus Fate was forever changed.
Intelligence Save
D20 + 5 = 23 (18)
Adam felt the spear consume his Mana from him, draining him of his strength. He felt the raging magics as they tried to invade his mind to fill him with a sickness for his blatant disrespect of using so much magic to enchant, to disregard Order and Balance.
Adam roared out, pushing away the pounding of the magic which assaulted his mind. He panted, feeling the sweat against his forehead. He wiped his brow, looking aside to the Iyrman, who had approached him after hearing the shouting.
“Yo,” Adam said, stretching out his back.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Adam replied. “Couldn’t be better.”
The Iyrman could see that Adam could, indeed, be better.
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Uh oh. Adam, what are you doing?