477. Predictable

477. Predictable

“Do you know who that Drakken is?” Adam whispered, taking a sip of the warm soup.

“Wiseraith,” Jurot replied, feeling the burn of the spice numb his lips.

“Whose that?” Adam asked.

“Fazar slew Tameraith, Wiseraith’s decendant, many generations ago,” Jurot replied.

“I thought Fazar killed the Bronze Dragon, Rothclaw?” Adam asked.

“Falzar befriended the Brass Dragon, Rothclaw,” Jurot corrected.

“Oh...” Adam nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, that’s way different.”

“Wiseraith was most active after the Iyr and the Blackwater Kingdom renewed their ties,” Jurot explained. “He ravaged the northern territories for a year, before he was pushed back with the Iyr’s assistance. It was then the White Dragon Knights were formed, one of the first Orders.”

“Yeah? I haven’t heard about it though so...” Adam raised his brows.

Jurot nodded. “It was destroyed.”

“That sounds about right.”

“They were slain by Antalia, Entalia’s mother, a few hundred years ago,” Jurot explained.

“They should have called themselves the Silver Dragon Knights.”

Jurot’s jaw tensed up. He stared at the ceiling, remaining silent as a thought passed through his mind. ‘That was funny.’

‘How old is Entalia then?’ Adam thought, but he decided against asking for the age of the mother of his children. “Anyway, yeah, Wiseraith?”

“The White Dragon Knights kept Wiseraith at bay for many years, as they swore themselves to keeping him away. He ravaged other regions in his time, making a name for himself in Noska and beyond. He was more active than typical Dragons, but was less active as time passed. When the Demons appeared, he fought for a short time, before disappearing.”

“So everyone believed he died to Demons?”

“Not everyone,” Jurot said. “The Iyr did not hold any belief.”

“So he was both alive and dead for the sake of the Iyr?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

Adam slowly nodded his head. ‘The Iyr’s so damn careful.’ His thoughts fell to how close he had been to death within the Iyr. ‘It was probably pretty touch and go for a while...’

“Wiseraith is strong,” Jurot said. “I wish to face him in battle.”

“Is that why your fist is so tense?” Adam asked.

Jurot relaxed his fist. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you go fight him?”

“Why don’t you hug me like Lanarot?” Jaygak asked, grabbing her brother’s head, rubbing her knuckles against his skull.

“I am not a boy,” Raygak cried, struggling up against her.

“What if I was injured?”

“You are too strong to be injured!” Raygak said, struggling against her still.

Jaygak snorted, before lifting the boy up, kissing his forehead. “You crafty boy.”

Raygak smirked slightly in response and hugged her, feeling the pulsing on his forehead from her noogie.

Kitool sat beside Katool, who shuffled closer so they were touching hip to hip. The girl reached up with a piece of fruit, which Kitool accepted, only to feed her instead. Katool smiled.

“What is the story?” Sonarot asked, allowing them to speak the tale to their families. Jurot spoke the tale, and the woman nodded her head at the end of it. “Yes. That is very Adam of you.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “Am I truly so predictable?”

“Yes,” came the reply from many of the Iyrmen around.

Adam frowned.

“You were going to mention that your muttering was a joke,” Sonarot said.

Adam formed an open circle with his mouth, unable to stop his reflexes. “Yo!” He shook his head. “I really am predictable.”

Sonarot smiled, waiting for it.

“It really was a joke though,” he said, his eyes snapping to the rest of the Iyrmen adults.

Sonarot smiled wider, glad that she had called it. “You gave up the potential for a great reward, but it is no shame to your honour. It is the Iyr’s goal to protect its children, and you have done well. Even if you could protect them, if you thought there was a chance against it, then there is nothing anyone can say to shame you.”

Adam lifted up his triplets and kissed their foreheads once more. “If I can’t protect the children of the Iyr, how could I possibly protect my own children?” Adam held onto his children tighter, pinning them to him. His eyes flashed towards Sonarot and Jurot, smiling to himself awkwardly, before furrowing his brows.

“Where are the Jarots?”

Jarot returned with the twins, who were cooing in their baskets. “You had to return so soon?” the old man asked, placing down the basket to one side before he sat.

“What’s wrong with a father returning home to spoil his children?” Adam asked.

Jarot sighed, wondering if he should beat the boy up, but decided against it. “You returned so quickly? Did you not feel comfortable protecting the children?”

‘Damn, I really am predictable,’ Adam thought, frowning. ‘Should I be a little more...’ Adam shook his head, throwing away the thought. It was a bad idea to be more chaotic in the Iyr. “Something like that.”

Jarot remained frowning, sitting still within his seat. Everyone could see how he was tensing up, doing his best to control his annoyance. ‘How could you return so quickly?’ Jarot had taken the chance to take his greatchildren around the Iyr to show them off, but now that Adam had returned, it was far too embarrassing to continue. ‘I should beat you up.’

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Adam is predictable, but let's face it, so is Jarot.