[972] – Y04.072 – Strong III

[972] – Y04.072 – Strong III

Gilbert swung the staff in front of him, practising under the stars. Dunes and Korin practised nearby too, each completing their evening prayers through their swordplay. Jasmine watched the men as they trained in the evening, wondering if she should start working on her own swordplay. She glanced aside towards her companion, who was dressed head to toe, not allowing anyone to see any part of him through his clothing and the metal he wore beneath, like skin.

“Their sword swings are beautiful,” Morkarai said. “As one might expect from those trained by the oldest temple of Lady Arya.”

“The oldest temple?” Jasmine asked, raising her brows towards the Prince.

Morkarai chuckled, raising his cup of wine. “The oldest continuous temple solely dedicated to the Lady.”

“Where have you been walking off to?” Jasmine asked.

“I was requested to assist with something important.”

“...” Jasmine decided against prodding for more.

Bilal stalked nearby, listening to their conversations. He watched the pair’s routine too, though he, unlike the others, understood how deadly a blade from Black Mountain was, even a nascent blade like Korin. Various, unseen scars, throbbed.

As the rest headed to bed, Gilbert leaned against the wall, staring out to the stars. Then he heard them, the quick sharp breaths he had become familiar with during the nightly hours of this month, of a particular Iyrman swinging her sword. She had gone to sleep earlier in the night, but had woken up once almost everyone else had gone to sleep. He watched her blade move through the air, her blade work similar to the Black Mountain members, though it was slightly different.

Dunes was first and foremost a Priest, so his swordplay was fairly basic, but allowed for easy spellcasting. Korin used his blade with less of an emphasis on easy spellcasting, though he still worried with the need to cast spells, so his blade, like Dune’s blade, returned to him to allow for the casting of spells. No, perhaps it wasn’t just for their use of magic.

Jaygak’s blade did not return to her.

Her swordplay was simple too, basic, not bad, but there were no fancy flourishes, just refined bladework. Except, Gilbert had spotted a very stark difference in one way. Jaygak had no spells, yes, but her bladework was similar in a way to how several others fought, even though they wielded different weapons.

Jurot. Kitool. Jaygak.

Each of them fought and practised in the way of the Iyrmen. While Dunes and Korin worried about how to survive until the next fight, the Iyrmen...

Gilbert recalled another phrase that the Executive’s cousin had taught him.

‘How do you kill a dragon?’ Laygak had asked. ‘One swing at a time.’

Gilbert had eventually realised the true meaning behind the statement. It wasn’t that one needed to keep swinging, to not rush in a fight, and that eventually the dragon would fall once hit enough. The true meaning behind the statement was what it didn’t say.

It didn’t tell Laygak to run and to live to fight another day.

Gilbert thought of his siblings, not just the young children he had followed to the business, but of Viper, Cobra, Python, Julia, and Shannon. Viper, Cobra, and Python, they fought to live for another day. Any time there was a problem, any time they were hungry, they would always be there. What would have happened if any of them had died because they didn’t live to fight another day?

Then he thought about it. The difference between Cobra and Kitool. They weren’t that different, really, in terms of strength. Yet no one would bet on Cobra. Not even he would bet on Cobra.

‘Is that the difference?’ Gilbert thought. ‘Do I have to be crazy enough to want to die to be that strong?’

Gilbert had been there. The hydras had come so quickly. The Order of Life’s Rose had been there, not just any old members either, but Rays, and even a Hope! A Hope!

Yet, which group was the most successful? The Order of Life’s Rose? The Golden Savages, who fought with near wild abandonment?

No.

It had been them.

‘Those crazy fucking bastards,’ Gilbert thought, eyes glued to the woman considered the weakest of them all, and yet could cut him in half as if he were made of porridge. Every time she swung her blade, he could see the way she was cutting someone to kill them.

Gilbert thought of the strongest member of the group. The one who was apparently stronger than the three Iyrmen. ‘Yeah, he’s the...’

That was when he recalled the one old man who had beaten the craziest one of the group, and the nickname he possessed. Gilbert was glad that old man had disappeared back to the Iyr.

Bilal, too, watched from the darkness. He remained focused on the young woman, whose bladework could be described exactly like the Iyrmen themselves.

‘Efficient. Deadly.’

The days continued to pass, the business’ coffers slowly draining as Adam enchanted.

‘Weren’t the Iyrmen meant to train us?’ Theo thought, following Fred’s guidance.

‘How am I meant to teach them?’ Fred thought, swinging the sword in front of him, trying to recall how the Aswadians and Iyrmen practised by themselves, and how they had trained him. ‘Are there any bears around we can...’ He eyed up the men and women around him. ‘They probably won’t survive?’

“No,” Sonarot replied, later in the evening. “The children miss you, but we cannot bring them often to the fort, so you must compromise to see them only on their birthdays.”

‘Should I stop enchanting then?’ Adam thought.

“You should keep working as you have,” Sonarot said, reading the look on his face. “They only arrive a short while before you finish.”

“Right...”

Sonarot didn’t lie to Adam. Nothing was going on in the Iyr. This was the choice the families had made, to send a message, so that it was indisputable.

“You all should be glad you came on my day off,” Adam said, picking up Alykan, Minool, and Jazool, before letting them down. He was more awkward, however, with a particular child.

“Hello... Rowajin, was it?” Adam said, pretending as though he didn’t know the boy’s name, even though he had definitely spoiled him before.

“Grandfather says you should spoil his grandchildren too,” Uwajin said.

“Well...” Adam began, standing there awkwardly.

Uwajin, half asleep, tilted her head slightly. “You did not prepare a gift for our Rowajin?”

“It’s not that, it’s just... I’m thinking about how much trouble I want to be in.”

‘He is thinking of the trouble he causes?’ Uwajin thought, suddenly wide awake.

Jazool sat beside Larot, yawning slightly, but she reached out to hold his hand. “Okay?”

Larot slowly nodded his head, before the girl brushed his hair, returning back to doing nothing in particular. His eyes fell to the half elf and the Iyrman to the side.

“What is this?” Uwajin asked, feeling the tingling of magic within the blade.

“What do you mean, what is it?” Adam replied. “It’s a magical greatsword.”

Uwajin waited.

“Didn’t you say something about spoiling his grandkids?”

“You wish to give him a magical weapon?”

“No, this is a gift for you.

“Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“For what?”

“If you keep bullying me, I’m going to tell Jirot.”

Uwajin blinked. ‘Why does he need to thank me?’

Uwajin remained the next day, when Tinajin, Timojin’s sister, was brought along with Murot. She blinked, holding an identical greatsword in her hands, feeling the tingle of magic which was identical to the blade which had been gifted to her yesterday. Except, she was certain, positive, that blade had been sent back to the Main Iyr, and yet this one had appeared again from within the fort.

“Why did you send the other one back?” Adam complained. “That one was for you, this one is for your grandfather. You can have this one instead, and you should keep it on you, it’ll be a waste if it gathers dust in your family’s treasury.”

“You already gifted us magical weapons?”

“If I didn’t do at least this much, that old geezer would complain,” Adam said.

‘...’

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go spoil my chonky cousin.”

‘At least he didn’t hand over the weapon to the children...’ Dunes thought, letting out a relaxed sigh.

You know what, Dunes? I wouldn't put it past him.