444. Duskval Festival V

444. Duskval Festival V

Kirot slowly chewed on a piece of bread while sitting on her father’s lap. Karot lay beside him, resting his head against his father’s thigh. Konarot sat to his other side, holding his pinky finger loosely.

‘Who gave my children permission to be so adorable? Isn’t this illegal? Won’t they be taken away when others find out they’re so cute?’

Adam sighed, feeling the pulsing against his forehead. No matter how lightly he was thinking of the matter, it still weighed heavily on his shoulders. He, who had chosen to be a father, had forgotten how stupid he was.

‘Dragons and Goblins. Dragons and Goblins. Seriously. Dragons? Goblins?’

Kirot handed some of her bread to Karot, who sat up to accept it, before laying back against his father’s thigh.

“Sit up when you eat, silly boy,” Adam said, lifting him up with an arm.

Kirot also handed Konarot some bread, though the girl took the bread and brought it to Kirot’s lips, feeding her instead.

‘Bell?’

[Yes?]

“Adam,” Jurot called, approaching from one side.

“Yes?”

“They fought well,” Jurot replied, looking down at the three children.

“Who wants to cuddle uncle Jurot?” Adam asked. The triplets pressed themselves against their father, clutching at his clothing. “How can you bully your uncle like this, you silly little babbies.”

Jurot sat down beside Konarot. “They won.”

“Oh? Was it close?”

“No.”

“Oh? Well good for them.”

Jurot had expected the fights to be much closer than they were, but the teens had won so handily. ‘Moving with Adam has accelerated our growth.’ It was merely a hypothesis, but Jurot was certain of it.

“Jurot?”

“Yes?”

Adam swallowed. He wanted to ask Jurot for something important, but he didn’t dare to. “They’re really shy right now, but they’ll slowly open up to you.”

Jurot remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

“You can’t bully your uncle, okay? He’s daddy’s brother, and he’s been so nice to me. He’s really strong too, so you don’t have to worry. If anyone tries to bully you, make sure to tell one of us. You can also ask Aunt Sonarot.”

Jurot nodded. “My mother is your nana. My grandfather is your babo.”

“Is a great grandmother then nano?”

“Yes.”

“What about uncle and aunt?”

“Papo and mamo.”

Adam tilted his head. “What about granduncles and grandaunts?”

“Baba and nana.”

“The words are the same?”e?”

“It is our way.”

“You can’t bully your...” Adam looked to Jurot. “So Aunt Sonarot is their nana?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be mean to nana, okay?”

“I’m sure they did.” Adam rubbed the boy’s head, trying to reassure him.

Asoyah looked back to the triplets, who were sitting on the floor in front of their father. “Are you their father?”

“Yes.” Adam smiled, almost chuckling.

“Why?”

“They’re my children.”

Asoyah narrowed his eyes. He understood the concept, and after hearing Adam reply in such a manner, he understood it more. “The Goblins are your children by blood?”

“No, but they are my children.”

“You adopted them?”

“Yes.”

“You are no Iyrman,” the boy said, with a tone full of accusations, as though Adam was living a lie.

“No, but I can adopt them, can’t I?”

“Aldishmen care about blood, but they do not when they do not,” the boy said. He had heard how important blood was to the Aldish, but there were times when some nobles adopted children to carry on their name.

“I’m no Aldishman,” Adam replied, simply.

The boy stared up at Adam with his eyes narrowed, almost shut. He remained staring at the Half Elf for a long while, before looking down to the triplets again. “You are their father because you adopted them?”

“Yes,” Adam replied. He was their father by blood, apparently, but he wasn’t sure how that worked with multiversal travel.

“Will you adopt me too?” Asoyah asked, staring up at Adam once more.

Adam’s smile dropped, giving away to shock. He blinked rapidly as his mind tried to process what he had heard. ‘What?’ “You want me to be your father?”

“You are strong,” Asoyah said. His eyes stared deep into Adam’s, with an intensity Adam wasn’t expecting.

“You have a family already, don’t you?” Adam said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Won’t they be sad that you’ll be my son?”

“You are strong,” the boy repeated, dismissing the words.

“I suppose I am, but so is Jurot,” Adam said. His throat clogged for a moment as his nerves overwhelmed him.

“You are strong.”

Adam swallowed again. ‘Damn, Asoyah. What are you doing to me?’ “If you become my son, then you won’t be an Iyrman.”

Asoyah blinked, his eyes widening. “No?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, quietly. “My children aren’t Iyrmen.”

Asoyah looked to Jurot, staring at the Iyrman the same way Turot would to Adam whenever he said something suspect.

“It is true.”

“They are not Iyrmen?” Asoyah whispered, still unable to believe it, though the words had come from Jurot.

“No.”

Asoyah sat up straighter. He looked to Sonarot, who could see that his young mind was trying to process what he was hearing. He had been indoctrinated by the Iyrmen from young with the ways of the Iyr, and he was struck by the words.

Sonarot placed her hand on his head, allowing him to think. She looked to Adam, who felt the gazes of many other Iyrmen against him. He was still thinking, trying to deal with the situation. The air in the shared estate had grown heavy from the young Iyrman’s words.

“I have a great respect for you Iyrmen,” Strom said, taking a sip of the wine in his cup. “However, I have to admit that sometimes you make questionable choices. They are rare, to the point I cannot think of any from the countless years I have known of you Iyrmen, but...” He shook his head.

Sonarot sighed.

“At the very least...” Adam said, feeling the awkwardness in the air. “Asoyah is cute enough to be my kid.”

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Asoyah is utterly befuddled, baboozled, and bummed out.

Enjoy the slice of life while it lasts. Who knows? There might be more than just slices of life.