[894] – Y03.194 – Days of Nightval VI
A pair of blades swiped through the air, following the same trails through the air. For the pair who came from that prestigious order, this was a meditation, a prayer.
“Adam is always so heavy,” Dunes said, sheathing his blade.
“Not quite as heavy as that dwarven blade?” Korin joked.
“No, perhaps not quite as heavy as the dwarven blade.” Dunes chuckled lightly, his eyes falling to the sky. The blade tugged the sword belt, which dug deeper against him. The pressure of this blade was greater than one might have expected. ‘At thought I was overreacting, since there are few dwarves within our lands, but if Ray Vonda also believes it to be so great...’
“He gifted a dwarven blade...” Korin said, staring at the sky while he palmed the pommel of his blade, rubbing it tenderly. “He may have met a Minor Divine, but this is a greater shock.”
“Pff.” Dunes grinned wide, shaking his head lightly, exchanging a glance with Korin before the pair glanced back up towards the sky. The stars sparkled so dimly through the nightval sky.
“Dunes?”
“Yes?”
“I am still your closest companion, yes?”
Dunes let out another soft sigh. “I am not so easily bought.”
“That is not a yes.”
“Perhaps if you gift me a dwarven blade?”
“I would not even gift it to my wife.”
“Not even Sara?”
“Kch! Morn Dunes, do you think I will not beat you?” Korin asked, grasping the handle of his sword, raising his brows towards his best friend.
“It would be your honour for me to unsheath my dwarven sword.”
Dunes’ tone of voice almost made Korin draw his blade. ‘What a futha.’ “When I am one of the Sixteen Sheaths, I will be sure to beat you well, even with that dwarven sword!”
The pair fell into a gentle chuckle, before returning back to their sword dance.
Meanwhile, another pair had already finished their own dance of steel.
“What good was there to beat a Mad Dog who had lost his bite?” Dogek asked, looming over Jarot.
Jarot panted, his vision blurry as the vague outline of Dogek blocked out the night sky above him. His entire body burned with pain and effort, while the towering form over him seemed almost statue still.
“We all grow old, Duteous.” Jarot continued to pant, barely able to keep his consciousness.
“You should not have called upon me,” Dogek said, his voice clear, cutting through the air with the same efficiency as his blade. “There was no need to see you like this.”
“There is no shame in losing against the likes of you.”
Dogek continued to glare down at Jarot, who could barely hold onto his axe even now. ‘You have lost your touch this much? I did not even use my family’s techniques.’ Dogek, who had grown up in the same era as the one known as Mad Dog, had created his own stories in Aldland over the course of almost a generation. Just like his strength, his stories were built upon a stable foundation, and he did not stop.
Dogek recalled the stories of the Mad Dog, still so impressive to him. Jarot’s flames burned brightly throughout Aldland, though many of his stories had begun to fade, only engraved within the hearts of the elderly who had heard of the crazy fool who had fought and killed many nobles across the land. Dogek had met Jarot once during his own travels, the pair having crossed paths during a particular incident.
Dogek’s heart shuddered. How could he have beaten Jarot so easily? The old man had barely pressed Dogek even with the great strength which remained. His eyes fell to the arm and leg of the old man, who continued to pant on the floor.
‘Did the loss hurt you so?’ Dogek calmed his heart at the thought of Churot’s death. The matter had passed, resulting in the death of a Gak and an Ool, and the death of the foolish dragon who had caused a mess for Aswadasad for generations.
Dogek sheathed his blade. In his heart, the seed of sorrow grew. Out of respect he had fought Jarot, and though he had held back, the fact Jarot had been so easy to beat shook him deeply.
Jarot’s weak chuckle broke the silence. ‘I have grown old, Tangak, Zaool.’ He closed his eyes, his heart dropping as he thought of his greatchildren. ‘...’
The next morning no snow fell across the Iyr’s land.
The porridge warmed the bodies of all those at the business. The dried fruit added texture and flavour to the porridge, while the crunch of hard vegetables filled the air as a pair of twins enjoyed the food their grandmother was feeding them from her fingers.
“What do you need?” Adam asked, noting the awkwardness from Gilbert.
“I’d like to work so that I can get a magical weapon,” Gilbert said.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay?” Adam replied, equally as confused as Gilbert.
“I can?”
“Sure?” Adam replied. “Why can’t you?”
“I meant that... I want to help out so that I can get a magical weapon.”
“What kind of helping out?”
“Going out and fighting.”
“How strong are you?”
“I’m strong for a normal lad from East Port.”
“Are you an Expert like Cobra?”
Gilbert frowned. “No. I ain’t no Expert.”
“Do you want to be?”
“Yes?”
“Okay, sure.” Adam glanced over to see the boys had disappeared. “Won’t the boys need you while they grow?”
“They don’t need me, they’ve got Cobra.”
“There will be stuff they can only trust with you.”
“Are you saying I can’t leave?”
Adam inhaled deeply, thinking for a long moment. ‘I can take him to become an Expert, but the boys still need him here. It looks like he’s got a reason to be an Expert, and it’s not like he can stay here and become an Expert by doing nothing...’
‘Is that too difficult?’ Gilbert thought, noting Adam’s hesitation.
“I’d like for you to remain here for some time at the fort. The children will need you in order to settle. Once the business is settled, and the children are used to their daily lives within the business, we will take you to become an Expert if you’re still interested in that time.”
“I would like to earn a magical weapon quickly.”
“How quickly?”
“As soon as I can.”
“Why?”
“I’m...” Gilbert flushed slightly. “I’m their older brother. I should do that much.”
‘How cute.’ A small smile crossed Adam’s lips. “I’ll figure something out for you. There’s no need to rush, the business will take good care of you and your siblings.”
“Alright...”
Adam bowed his head. As Gilbert turned, Adam’s voice cut through the air. “I appreciate your patience, Gilbert. If you want to become a Master or a Grandmaster, let me know and I’ll see what I can do for you.”
‘What?’
Jarot rolled really poorly but damn he got absolutely bodied.