[1048] – Y05.048 – Small Hopes

[1048] – Y05.048 – Small Hopes

When the first rays fell across the Iyr, Elder Zijin made his rounds. He made a detour that day, as he had done the previous morning, making his way to the watermills of the Iyr. There were many which were worked this morning, in the early shift of Iyrmen. He stepped up to one he had requisitioned, for this mill did not work paper or grain, but berries.

Zijin noted the eyes of the nearby Iyrmen, the Elder pouring the milk into the pot, his eyes glancing aside to see the Iyrmen within the other mills glancing his way. Once the pot was full of milk, the Elder tied the skin over the lid, taking a moment to judge their gazes.

“The boy drinks,” Zijin said, turning as the Iyrmen each puffed out their chests, in the way only Iyrmen could.

“Of course he drinks, since I cleaned the mill well,” an Iyrman said.

“Of course he drinks, since I checked the wheel,” another stated.

“Of course he drinks, since I drain the milk,” a third said.

The Iyrmen nearby, spurred by the news of the child drinking well, worked with their heart that morning. Though the Iyrmen’s joy was quiet, it was focused, and though they had been tasked with providing only a certain amount of pulp, paper, and wheat, the Iyrmen annoyed the Elders and their aides by filling more crates and sacks than expected. Thankfully, they were assisting in plugging the hole created by the lack of one of their mills.

Once that particular mill was used, it was cleaned, and the Iyrmen, tasked with grinding the berries into milk, were sent home. The other Iyrmen nearby kept an eye on the mill, making sure no one else used it, or even approached it without permission. It had been used to mill wheat, but had been quickly cleaned out to grind the magical berries, and only the magical berries, until the crisis was averted.

Zijin brought the pot to the shared estate, ruffling little Jarot’s hair gently, feeling how thick it was within his hand. He then ran his fingers through Konarot’s hair, feeling the difference against his skin, the girl’s hair so thin in comparison, but also a touch heavier. “I will request for a pot of shampoo for little Jirot and Jarot, since their hair is similar to my own.”

“Thank you,” Adam replied. “Jirot, Jarot, what do we say?”

“Thank you,” the twins said, hiding themselves against their father’s chest.

Zijin smiled warmly, stepped out of the Iyr, allowing the rage to flash through him for a moment, before he returned back to the central estate to deal with his typical matters.

“How about we all go on a little picnic today at the park?” Adam asked, reaching over to pinch his son’s nose, smiling down at the boy.

“Picnic?” Little Jarot asked.

“It’ll be mummy, daddy, and all of our adorable little babies, except Virot.”

“Why not Virot?” Jirot asked, tilting her head, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Daddy wants to tell you all secrets, and Virot, she’s always babbling away about this and that, and she’s a little young to understand what I want to tell you.”

“Virot is so smart,” Jirot stated, raising her brows expectantly to her father, though not in the way she used to, when she dared him to deny her words.

“I know, I know, but she’s still a baby.” Adam leaned down to nuzzle against his daughter’s cheek. Adam smiled slightly. “Of course she’s so smart, since she’s your sister.”

Jirot hid her face into her father’s chest, the girl giggling against it, and her father pulled her even closer. Adam felt the warmth of her body against his own, but the chill seeped further into his heart.

As they finished their breakfast, Adam sat to one side, holding onto Virot. Vonda sat beside him, the side of her boot pressed against his.

“Boobooboo,” Virot babbled.

“Yeah,” Adam replied.

“Kekeke!” Virot squealed with delight, before reaching up to explore her father’s jaw with her fingers, poking and prodding at his face.

“Daddy, don’t die,” Karot whined, pouting up to his father.

“I think two times is good enough,” Adam assured, wrapping an arm around his eldest son, kissing his ear gently. “Daddy won’t die.”

Adam spoke to them of his tale, from his first life, to his second life, and finally his third life. He spoke of his love for prawn cocktail crisps, to various different drinks, mostly fizzy, but also the mango juice he would often flavour their water to taste like. He spoke of many innocuous things, many of which did not exist in this world. He even spoke of showers, which he vastly preferred over baths, much to Vonda’s surprise.

“I really wish mobile phones existed in this world,” Adam said, holding up an imaginary phone, tapping at the screen with his thumb, snapping an imaginary picture of his children, having not yet gained the habit of snapping a selfie, which would have made more sense. “Although, we can do without social media.”

As Adam continued to speak of his tale, and made jokes only he understood, the loneliness returned, only to be pushed away by the warmth of his children. He was a man of three worlds, and though his time in the second had been short, and alarming, it had shaped him to who he was. Adam’s heart continued to ache, but the weight upon his shoulders lightened by a feather.

Vonda reached out to hold his hand at some point, and the half elf smiled at her. Vonda rested her head against her husband’s shoulders, tears slipping against his clothing, before she quickly wiped them clean, blowing her nose into a handkerchief. She would cry later, when they were alone, or perhaps, when she was alone.

She understood what Adam was doing. The half elf, who perhaps was often a fool, was someone who liked to lay down the foundations slowly, and it had begun today. Even as evening came, she watched her husband from the opposite end of the shared estate, the half elf sitting beside his brother.

“Jurot?” Adam called, finally breaking the silence.

“Adam?”

“I need you to, uh...” Adam blinked rapidly for a moment. “If you could, please find out what happened. I want you to.. make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay.”

“I mean... I don’t want you to blame any of them. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have...” Adam sniffled. “Just, you know, train them, and make sure they’re...” Adam shook his head again. “Just, find out what happened, and deal with it as you see fit. It was all my fault, but just, you know.”

“Okay,” Jurot said, closing his eyes to calm himself. He was certain he understood what Adam was asking of him.

“I... would do it, but... I don’t want to know. Larot pushed Jirot out the way, that’s all I know, it’s all I need to know.” Adam’s eyes burned as they glistened.

“...”

“I’m sorry, Jurot.”

Jurot swallowed. It was in times like this he wished Jaygak and Kitool were here. The only way they wouldn’t be here was if they didn’t know, so such a burden fell upon his shoulders. Even if he was a member of the Rot family, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to carry it.

“You can go after Damrot begins to crawl, but you should come back for the festival.”

Jurot closed his eyes again. He was glad that Adam was still Adam, even after all that happened.

While Vonda watched the pair, seeing the way Jurot tried to calm himself, she understood Adam had already begun to settle things. She glanced away, only to find a tiny, warm hand against hers. She glanced aside to see Larot, the tiny demon boy staring up at his mother. He rubbed the back of her hand gently.

Vonda, certain the boy was not just a boy, still pulled him to her bosom, holding the back of his head. “Larot.”

The boy could hear the pain within her voice. He reached up to brush along her cheek. ‘You damn fool! How can you worry your wife like this?’



Damn. The next arc is pretty long, and pretty depressing.

Someone subscribe to my patreon so all these depressing chapters pass quickly! The next person to subscribe to even my lowest tier, I'll post up an additional two chapters, not one.