609. Crisis III

609. Crisis III

“Do you think Adam’s in trouble?” Jaygak asked.

“It is likely,” Jurot replied. “If it is not the world, it is his mouth.”

“Umbra’s taking his madness well,” Jaygak said, soft squelching sounds echoing around them.

“For now.” Jurot continued to butcher the great creatures they had slain.

“Do you think he’s complaining about his children?”

“Yes.”

Days continued to pass as the groups tried to find one another.

Wisdom Save

D20 + 4 = 5 (1)

“Adam?” Vonda called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“I am fine.” Vonda looked down at the sword at Adam’s waist, and then to the red baby. ‘...’

“Nirot, here. I don’t really need Wraith if I’ve got this beauty at my side.” Adam smiled, tapping the hilt of Golden Whisper.

“You will use a sword?”

“I mean, it is a really nice sword,” Adam replied with a smile, eyeing up the blade. “Gorgeous.”

Nirot stared into Adam’s eyes, and for a moment, a single bead of sweat began to drip down her forehead. She reached up for Wraith and accepted it, causing the other Iyrmen to relax slightly, their hands pulling away from their weapons. Nirot glanced to Vonda, who had also reached for her mace, but the Iyrman had promised to look after the Priest, and couldn’t guarantee her life if they fought Adam.

‘...’ Umbra remained silent.

After waiting a few days, with the group eating the fish which was caught by Umbra and the Demons, the water began to shift.

A giant seasnake emerged, one which held a carriage upon its back. It was three tiered and made of bronze, with waves of patina all across it. Standing atop the carriage was a small fishman, no bigger than Adam’s triplets, with thick grey skin, with tiny slits for its gills around its neck. It was adorned in scale mail, made of some kind of serpent no doubt, and he carried a blade at his side.

The fishman grumbled aloud towards Umbra in a language Adam didn’t know, and the Half Elf decided against casting a spell to find out what they were saying.

“It’s good to see you as well,” Umbra replied. “Thank you again for carrying us.”

The fishman threw his head aside, grumbling quietly, but didn’t seem to make any hostile actions.

“You don’t have to worry, he’s always like that,” Umbra said.

“Who is he?”

“The Emperor of the First, Second, and Fifth Seas.”

“...” Adam decided against asking any more questions.

‘Something is definitely wrong,’ Nirot thought. Adam wasn’t asking stupid questions, and he hadn’t grumbled about his children in days. She caught the eye of Naqokan, who shook her head. Nirot remained silent. Technically, she was a lot stronger now, having attuned to Wraith, which was quite the weapon. Even without its miscellaneous features, it was a blade which rivalled some of the best weapons of the Rot family.

As the snake submerged into the ocean, a bubble of air formed around the carriage, protecting the group, and providing them with air.

“Aren’t you going to ask about the air?” Lucy asked, staring at the Half Elf. She had decided against sitting at the top, instead sitting in the middle with Adam, Mara, and Vonda. The teens sat underneath, having their own conversation, which fell silent upon hearing Lucy’s voice.

“No?” Adam replied.

“You’re not going to mention how if you fart, it’ll stay with us?”

If the baby wasn’t red, Vonda would have tried to stifle a laugh, but she didn’t dare to laugh.

“Lucy, don’t be weird.”

“Lucy isn’t weird,” Mara replied.

“Why’s she talking about farts for in front of Sir Vonda?”

“You can leave your sword behind.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly. It’s still dangerous around these lands, and you never know, we might need to fight at any moment.”

“You’re strong enough without the sword.”

“I feel more comfortable with the sword at my side,” Adam replied, his voice growing firm. “Just like how you want to keep your shield, and scarf, with you.”

Vonda eyed up the sword, and then the breastplate of puthral that he wore. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you feeling uncomfortable, Adam.” She smiled towards the Half Elf from behind her scarf.

“Thank you.” Adam returned her smile with his own, far too innocent for her liking.

Omen: 18, 19

The teen Iyrmen grew antsy while sitting here for days on end, especially since Adam was so... normal. He didn’t do anything queer, just living his days peacefully, and never once mentioning the need to hurry, his children, or even the food he missed from home.

However, they needn’t have worried for long, since their missing companions had finally arrived.

“Nirot, have you been well?” Jurot asked, the Iyrman having grown a beard since they had last seen one another.

“Yes,” Nirot replied, though her eyes widened slightly, and they pointed towards Adam.

Jurot, standing tall and proud, stared at Adam. He had noticed something strange at Nirot’s side, and something even stranger at Adam’s waist.

“Adam,” Jurot called, reaching out to grab Adam’s forearm.

“Jurot,” Adam replied, grabbing Jurot’s forearm as they shook it.

“You have a nice sword at your side,” Jurot said, still holding Adam’s forearm. “May I see it?”

“Of course,” Adam said, as the pair stopped shaking one another’s forearm, and Adam motioned to his blade. Jurot reached for it, and Adam grabbed his wrist. “You can see just fine with your Iyrman eyes.” The Half Elf chuckled.

The group stopped chattering with one another. They all glanced between Jurot and Adam, the pair of brothers who had journeyed with them this far.

“What is the matter, Adam?”

“Just, you can see it with your eyes, can’t you?”

“There is no issue, since you do not use swords,” Jurot replied, keeping his gaze locked to his brother’s eyes.

“Swords are cool. Romantic.”

“You are a Nephew of the Rot family.”

“It’s my sword, Jurot.”

“I just wish to hold it.”

“Why?”

“I just wish to see examine it.”

“It’s my sword.”

“It is.”

“You can’t have it,” Adam whispered, his voice growing firm. “You have Phantom already.”

“I will not keep it.”

“You’re so greedy, Jurot.” Adam eyes narrowed slightly. “You have so much already, but you won’t even let me keep this sword?”

“What do I have that is not yours?”

“Everything,” Adam replied, his eyes growing dark. “You were born and raised in the Iyr. You have a family. You have an entire people. What do I have, Jurot? I don’t have a family, I don’t have anything, but this sword. I found it. In the lake. It’s the sword that is mine by right. I was worthy enough to take it.”

Jurot wasn’t exactly sure what Adam was talking about, but he was sure it had something to do with the near mythic King Arthur from his first life. “You have a family too, Adam. You are my brother.”

“I don’t need your pity, Jurot,” Adam said, squeezing his brother’s wrist a little harder. “You think I really am stupid, don’t you? I just pretend to be stupid, Jurot. I know you’re not my real brother. I know I don’t have a real family. Lanarot. The twins. The triplets. I know they aren’t m-,”

Health: 78 -> 57

When you almost forget the author is willing to kill the mc.