[898.5] – Y03.198.5 – Heart of Ice V

[898.5] – Y03.198.5 – Heart of Ice V

“Oh! You!” Adam held his daughter tight within his arms, swaying from side to side, almost melting against his daughter.

Konarot rubbed her warm cheek against her father’s, clutching the back of his collar tight within her grip, not wanting to let go. “Daddy.”

“Oh, my baby, my sweet baby girl,” Adam whispered, peppering her face with as many kisses as he could to make up for the time they had spent apart. He nuzzled against her nose, their warmth bouncing off one another, while he rubbed her forehead with his own. “Did they bully you?”

“No,” Konarot replied. “I fall asleep and I wake up and I see daddy.”

“Oh?” Adam nuzzled her nose, on the verge of tears. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

Adam continued to embrace her tight, before he felt the gazes of others against his back. “What, can’t a father embrace his daughter after not seeing her in so long?” Adam caught the eyes of his children. “Well, I suppose you’ve all missed your sister too.”

The four children swarmed their eldest sister.

“Kaka!” they cried, embracing her tight, each making sure to kiss their eldest sister’s cheek as they hugged.

Kirot sniffed the girl and the pair purred as they embraced.

Konarot nuzzled Karot, the pair rocking slightly as they hugged.

“I miss you so much,” Jirot said, hugging her sister tight, her head resting against the girl’s shoulder.

“Kaka...” Jarot held his sister close, though the eldest girl brushed his hair and rubbed her cheek against his.

Adam covered his eyes, sniffling slightly. “Thank you, Elder Shaman.”

“I did what I must,” Elder Shaman replied simply, before leaving with the rest of the Shamans.

Adam dropped down to a knee and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small badge. To the entire world the design meant very little. It was fairly small, rectangular, and upon its face was a design close to Adam’s heart. Within the centre was a plus outline by a slightly larger plus. Then an x, with a mark across the left side of each in the way of a windmill spinning. With such a design, several triangles formed between the x and plus, small and thin on the sides, much bigger on the top and bottom.

“Gift Giving has passed, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t prepare anything for you, my sweet.” Adam placed the badge within Konarot’s hand, clasping her fingers over it for a moment. “This badge... I...” Adam paused for a long moment. “This badge represents daddy’s old home. It represents a lot. Lots og good, lots of evil, but it was daddy’s home. One day I’ll tell you more about it, but this design, it’s only going to exist with you.”

Konarot blinked, not quite understanding what her father was saying, but she could feel the affection coming from him. They held one another so tenderly once more. Adam inhaled her scent, the smell of the Iyr’s oils upon her.

“I want to hug you more, but we’ve got something to do.” Adam lifted her up, carrying the girl by her lonesome, his children following their father out, also wanting to be held. “You brats, your sister has been all by herself, so daddy needs to hug her properly!”

Konarot rested her head against her father’s shoulder. It had only felt like an hour since she last saw her father so she was a little confused but she cuddled against her father and closed her eyes. ‘Home.’

While Adam took his children away, allowing Konarot to reunite with the rest of her family, the Chief stared at the gem within the cave. He could feel the chill emanating from the gem, and its intense power.

‘How did the girl contain such power? I thought they were dangerous, but I did not realise they were sources of danger for the Iyr.’ Iromin let out a defeated sigh. ‘Even your children can surprise me so? Should I have expected less from Mad Dog’s greatchildren?’

It wasn’t long until that fellow adored his returning greatdaughter, tickling her tummy. “Did they bully you, my greatdaughter?”

“No,” the girl replied, giggling lightly from her greatfather’s tickling. “I fall asleep and I wake up.”

“Are you certain? If they bullied you, you must tell me. Do you think I cannot make a mess?”

“No,” Konarot replied, bowing her head slightly as the old man rubbed her head, not understanding how much trouble she had saved the Iyr.

A rush filled the shared estate, the families having waited for Konarot to return before they left. It didn’t take long for Iyrmen to prepare to leave, however. The Iyrmen knew how to prepare quickly to leave, taking fewer moments to prepare to leave to kill. Although, there was one thing the Iyr spent extra time to prepare for.

The prayers began early in the morning. Korin’s voice cutting through the air. Though the white of nightval sullied the air, the chill invading through Korin, he continued to pray out in the Aswadian tongue. He held a his sword out in front of him, as though offering it to the world. He blew into the air, from left to right and right to left, before continuing the prayer, blowing the air once more, before finally bowing his head, offering the blade to Lady Arya. After a moment he glanced towards Sara who began to tap the drum, and music began to ripple through the fort as the Iyrmen began to play, a cacophony of leather, wind, and string.

Adam glanced towards the bride and groom, adorned within their simple clothes of a dull red and blue. Amira wore a scarf which covered her hair and horns, wrapped around her neck and shoulders, while Dunes wore piece of thick folded cloth kept atop his head by a band of rope which fell over his ears and around his shoulders. The pair wore very little jewellery, though sat within the centre of the newly made village on the Iyr’s side of the river, atop a stage which elevated them even as they sat.

‘Korin and Sara are working so hard,’ Adam thought as the pair guided the Iyrmen to provide for the visitors of the wedding. ‘Should I do some work too?’

Dunes stared down at his cup of wine. ‘It’s too cold for a wedding.’ He sipped the wine which warmed his bones.

Amira enjoyed the music and the general environment of pleasantness all around her. She fought away the nerves and the thoughts of whether it was a good idea to do this. ‘The Priest Commander is going to kill us.’ She glanced to her side where Dunes sat, deep in thought within his cup.

“Thinking of your last regrets?”

Jirot glanced towards Amira, her eyes taking in the devilkin’s sight. She smirked. She turned to flee towards her aunt, but Adam pulled her in close, attacking her with his affection.

“Smelly girl! What were you about to say?” Adam blew a raspberry into the giggling girl’s neck, who was unable to escape from her father’s grasp.

Amira noted Jaygak raising her brows, the soft smile on the Iyrman’s face, before the devilkin shrugged her shoulders. “What a lovely daughter you have, Adam. She has the spirit of our Day of Laughter.”

“That’s because she’s a smelly girl,” Adam said, blowing another raspberry into her neck, the girl squirming and giggling as she almost began to cry. Adam let her go, the girl almost dropping beside Jaygak, who pulled the hysterical girl close. Little Jarot also cuddled up beside his aunt.

“I not smelly! I can go myself!” The girl panted for air, embracing her aunt close.

Dunes glanced aside to see the elderly Iyrmen relaxing in their corner, with a tiny demon baby relaxing beside them. ‘Mad Dog. Flame Brand. Butcher. Will there be a fight today?’

Thankfully, the Day of Laughter passed, and the Day of Eating approached.

Noon brought some warmth upon the wedding, which had brought together many more Iyrmen and even many villagers from the nearby village. As noon veered above, water and soap was brought to the bride and groom, who were wearing more jewellery than the day before. The music had shifted to bring attention to the pair, rising louder, before growing much quieter than before.

‘Did Sara help with her nails?’ Dunes thought, noting his bride’s dark blue nails.

They dried their hands on a towel provided to them by Korin, before they reached down to pick up a piece of fruit to feed one another. Dunes fed Amira a piece of cut salya from his fingers, before the woman fed him a slice of apple from her own fingers.

As she fed him the apple from her fingers, noting the way she smiled as some juice dripped onto his thick shirt, his heart throbbed. Whatever regrets his heart may have kept hidden melted away, it throbbing wildly as he understood the significance of the Day of Eating. The pair continued to feed one another was their tradition.

‘Dunes really is handsome...’ Amira couldn’t help but admit, seeing how clean the line of his beard was. ‘Korin must have spent an hour assisting him.’

Dunes leaned back and glanced up towards the grey sky. It was then he understood why weddings were so popular in noonval, and why so many children were born in dawnval.

“What do you think?” Adam asked, eating his porridge, raising his brows towards Alex. “The porridge is delicious with milk, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I love porridge with milk.” The boy continued to shovel spoonfuls of porridge. It was neither too hot, too cold, it was just right. “It’s my favourite.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, brushing Alex’s hair, before going back to eating. He glanced around to all the food on offer. ‘How much money did he make that he could afford to give away all this food?’

Hundreds enjoyed the food Dunes and Amira had bought, and Korin and the Iyrmen, as well as the business workers had cooked early in the morning.

Though nightval was white and lifeless, the Day of Colour was not so. While the many people around wore something bright, a scarf, a hat, a sash, but the bride and groom in the centre shone brightest. Dunes wore a bright red, his hair still black, but his beard dyed a fiery orange. There was only one person who matched such a beard, but they were adorned in a dull grey. Dunes’ attire was red, the kind of red only matched by fresh blood, his scarf resting over his shoulders a red and gold which would make even the Priests of Noor proud.

Amira wore a bright blue, like that of the Aswadian sky during noonval. Her face was also marked blue, contrasting her red skin, causing a pair of twins to remain mesmerised by her, and her soon to be husband.

Korin stood, his hands crossed over his stomach, listening intently to the prayer from the Iyrman, an amulet of Wahtu dangling across her chest. He clenched his fist together, trying to focus on the prayer, though he could feel the sleepiness set within him. ‘Stay awake, Korin. Soon! Soon!’

“Look, it’s daddy,” Jirot said, pointing to Vonda as though she couldn’t see the half elf dressed in a saturated purple with white highlights, matching the rest of his children.

“What is he carrying?” Vonda asked.

Jirot shrugged. “Soad?”

“I think you’re right,” Vonda said.

“I am always right.” Jirot sat up taller, while little Jarot smiled, nodding his head.

Sara brought a bundle of blue cloth to Amira, who unwrapped the cloth to reveal a blade made of steel, the kind of steel one could only find within the Iyr. She was glad the Iyr had accepted her request to forge a blade. She held the blade in hand, holding either end within her hands, as though about to offer it to someone.

Adam brought a bundle red cloth to Dunes, offering it to the Aswadian before retreating back awkwardly. Dunes unwrapped the cloth to reveal the blade. The haft was long, the pommel in the shape of a circle, but engraved within was a sun with rays that seemed more like flames. The leather around the handle was tightly wrapped, made of thick leather, dark greyish, brown, and green. The hilt of the blade held a cross guard which seemed to slowly melt into the rest of the blade.

Korin held out his hands before himself, addressing the pair. “You may exchange the hazya althifaf.”

Dunes held out his hand to accept the gift first, though Amira had done the same. An awkward moment passed as Dunes smirked, causing Amira to pass her gift first. She was too busy cursing Dunes to thank him, because if she had reached for the blade without both hands, she certainly would have dropped it.

‘Morn!’ Amira thought, feeling the tingling of great magic within the blade. ‘Dunes!’ The shock had caused the blue marks upon her face to crack slightly.

The fire giant Prince poured his companion more wine, pouring himself a cup too. “Congratulations.”

“You’re are congratulating the wrong person,” Ashmir said, raising his cup, before sipping the rest of his wine. He stared at the boy, a stranger, though not by blood. His eyes then fell to the girl. He stared at them for a long while, but instead of their faces, he thought of a different pair of faces. One was similar to Dunes’, the other was a face he had not seen in decades, and would not see again in this lifetime. A single tear fell down his cheek as he stared into another life, another past.

For once it's not Adam causing trouble...