473. Fireside Chat

473. Fireside Chat

Omen: 16, 18

“I can’t believe the Iyr is going to steal away my little babies,” Adam said, cuddling with Jirot, peppering her forehead with kisses, causing her to squeal and giggle. He did the same with Jarot too, cuddling them both tenderly.

Elder Zijin smiled, though there was an awkwardness which clung in the air between himself and Jarot, who was within arm’s reach of the twins.

Adam donned his armour, and grabbed the pack which had been prepared for him. Once his preparations were made, he cuddled with his five children once more, before noticing the other Iyrmen who had been tasked to assist.

“Ah,” Adam said, looking to his Iyrmen companions. He should have guessed that it would have been Jurot, Jaygak, and Kitool who would support him. ‘Of course.’

“It will be dangerous, but you I believe in your abilities,” Zijin said, nodding his head towards the four. He waited another moment to allow Adam to give his third goodbyes to his children.

“Papa?” Lanarot asked, holding onto Jurot’s trousers, staring up at him with her tiny, curious eyes.

“I must go now.”

“Ooooh?” Lanarot groaned, clutching at his trousers harder, pouting up at him. “No.”

“I must go now.”

“No!” The girl burst into tears, though her mother swiftly picked her up. She pointed at her brother. “No!”

Jurot reached up to her finger, holding it gently. “I will return soon, Lanarot.”

Adam decided against spoiling his sister in the moment, allowing Jurot and Lanarot to have their tiny moment together. ‘I want to say goodbye too.’

It was in the late afternoon when they arrived at the Front Iyr, which was blanketed white from the gentle snowfall. They approached the centre where familiar forms seemed to be relaxing together. There was the form of Lord Morkarai, as well as the two who Adam assumed to be Dragons, as well as a fourth figure. The fourth figure was a Drakken with white scales, and Adam assumed they were a Dragon too.

‘Lots of Dragons in the Iyr...’

Lord Morkarai and Burgwing, the bronze scaled Drakken man, were sharing drinks and talking with one another, while Wingburg, the black scaled Drakken woman, relaxed nearby, humming to herself quietly. The older white scaled Drakken remained some ways away from the fire, though he perked up on the arrival of the new group, his eyes falling to the foreigner with a familiar scent.

Adam caught his eyes, bowing his head to the figure, who narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the Half Elf. ‘He must not like me very much,’ Adam thought. ‘Is he an Aldishman?’

“Adam, come and join us,” Lord Morkarai called, raising a drink to the Half Elf.

Adam threw a look to Elder Zijin, who had led them the entire way here, before joining the pair. “Good afternoon,” Adam greeted, nodding his head to the pair. “How do you do?”

“I am well,” Morkarai said, picking up a gourd and offering it to Adam.

“I am well as well,” Burgwing said, his eyes piercing deep into Adam with a knowing look. “I have heard that you have five children, Adam.”

“That’s right.”

“Half Dragons, I have heard.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “They’re very cute.”

“Silver scales?”

“Beautiful scales.”

“I am certain,” Burgwing said, wiggling his brows at Adam, before leaning back. “It seems we have something in common.”

“Which is?”

“We have Half Dragon children,” Burgwing said.

“Yes, but mine are the cutest,” Adam replied, unashamedly. “Isn’t that right, Lord Morkarai?”

“They are cute,” Lord Morkarai said, though not confirming Adam’s words. He realised he needed to be careful, especially since the Dragon beside him was a Wing, and that woman’s brother.

“I’m not sure about cute, but mine are certainly strong,” Burgwing said.

“Big and strong?”

“Yes.” Burgwing smirked.

“My children are cute and small,” Adam replied, flashing his own smirk.

‘Ah,’ Burgwing thought, realising the kind of father Adam was.

“That doesn’t seem like a lot.”

Burgwing sat up straighter. “You do not know the strength of the Giants?”

“I mean...” Adam began, shrugging his shoulders. “I... I guess I do, but still.”

“One Giant is annoying enough to deal with,” Burgwing said. “Two Giants will keep most Dragons away, and three? Three Giants would make even the eldest Dragon think twice.”

“Damn,” Adam said. “How many Giants could face Strom in his prime?”

“Enough with the talk of war,” Stokmar said, dropping down near the group, causing the Drakken to sit up taller. “We are in the Iyr, and there is enough talk about fighting and war already.”

Adam opened his mouth to say something, but instantly realised whatever he was about to say was going to be extremely stupid, and he didn’t want to offend the Lord of Earth. ‘Wow. I can’t believe I stopped myself from saying something dumb.’

Jurot nodded his head at Adam, understand what had happened, and Adam smiled proudly.

Lord Stokmar had changed the vibe of the area around them, though it quickly calmed again when Jaygak and Kitool spoke with the white scaled Drakken, trying to figure out who he was.

“So...” Adam said, sipping the gourd full of alcohol. “How’s enchanting?”

“I am creating many Basic weapons for the Iyr, and armours and trinkets too.”

“Trinkets?”

“I can create jewellery which can hold resistance to the elements, so that one isn’t too cold or too warm in certain climates,” Morkarai said.

‘Ah,’ Adam thought, realising what he should have been enchanting this entire time. ‘Once I’m done with the Iyr, I should make those kinds of enchantments too.’ “What about those which protect oneself from blows?”

“Rings of Protections?”

“Yep.”

“I have made many of them too,” he admitted. “I change what I enchant weekly.”

“Nice,” Adam whispered, nodding his head.

Morkarai was about to ask Adam about his own enchanting, but stopped himself in time. “I can create many enchantments, but my speciality is within weapons with fire enchantments.”

“I wouldn’t have lost that bet,” Adam joked.

‘A warmoot,’ Jurot thought. He wished to talk more about the issues of the Confederacy, but especially the warmoot. A warmoot would excite even the Iyr into action. A warmoot against the Iyr would have been one of the greatest stories to be told, but such a thing would end up with many grave losses on either side.

‘Those who could threaten the Iyr are the Giants and Dragons,’ Jurot thought, glancing around the area. He noted the white scaled Drakken, wondering if he was a Raith. ‘The Iyr is home to three Lords, a Prince of the Fire Giants, and three Dragons...’

Jurot tried to recall the last time the Iyr had called in favours. He was sure there were other favours called, but in the past, only one or two Dragons were ever called. Technically, the three Lords hadn’t been called, but to call a Giant as well as Dragons? It was all but unheard of. There was one time a Giant and a Dragon were called, but a Giant and more than one Dragon?

Jurot sighed, letting the thoughts fall away. What was the point of thinking when it came to the Iyr? He would do as he was told.

“He’s a Raith,” Jaygak eventually whispered to Jurot in the evening, when they were about to sleep.

Jurot nodded.

“Wiseraith,” Jaygak said.

Jurot furrowed his brows, looking to Jaygak with a curious look. “You are certain?”

“Yes. Kitool thinks so too.”

Jurot didn’t ask why, since both Kitool and Jaygak thought so. If it was Jaygak alone, he would only mostly believe it, but if Kitool believed it too, then there was no need to doubt it. ‘Wiseraith?’ His heart began to pound wildly.

Why did the Iyr call in a being who could match Jaeryael, the Golden Empress?

Then another thought crossed his mind.

When could the Iyr call in a being who could match Jaeryael, the Golden Empress?

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Just a little chat.

Jurot knows how amazing the Iyr is, but even he's wondering how it's this amazing.

Who is this Wiseraith fellow? I doubt we'll ever see him do anything...