[1058] – Y05.058 – Noonval Festival V

[1058] – Y05.058 – Noonval Festival V

Shikan poked the wood, adding in another wedge to the fire, his sweat sizzling against the open flames. The crackling of the fire gave way to the chattering of the nearby Iyrmen, who enjoyed the last day of the festival calmly. They ate the food they had brought from the nearby stalls, all save one little boy, who enjoyed the meal of crisps and milk.

“You must from my fingers today,” the old Iyrman said, feeding his greatson from his fingers. The boy alternated with his sister and his greatfather as the trio ate their crisps and drank their milk. “My greatchildren, they eat so well.”

“You eat so well, Jarot,” Jirot said, brushing her brother’s hair tenderly, kissing his forehead.

“Do I eat well?” the older Jarot asked.

“So well, babo, so well,” Jirot assured, patting his stomach gently, causing the old man to snort slightly, sitting up taller. “Babo, you have same name as Jarot, and you eat as good as Jarot.”

“That is right, since I am Jarot.”

“That is right,” the girl agreed sagely.

Meanwhile, Adam lay on the ground, staring up at the clouds, holding the tiny form of Inakan, who also stared at the sky. The sun was still rising, but was thankfully hidden by the large estate wall.

“Is a bird,” Inakan said, pointing at the cloud.

“Oh yeah? I can see that.”

“It is not a bird, it is a cloud,” Inakan stated before she cackled with delight.

“Ah, of course.”

“Kaza Adam, you are so silly.”

“That I am, cousin Inakan,” Adam replied, ruffling the girl’s hair, which had been freshly cut for the festival.

“Kaza Adam?”

“Yes?”

“When I am big, I am big as you, but I am not going and I will stay all day, and I will not see the sky, because I am drawing.”

“Ah, of course,” Adam said, brushing her hair.

“When I am big, I will be big?”

“I think so.”

“Not small and cute?”

“You’ll always be so small and cute to me, my Inakan.”

“Silly kaza Adam, how I can be small, when I am big?”

“Ah, of course.”

“Of coas,” Inakan agreed.

Adam could feel how small the girl was still, not quite as small as his twins, but about as small as the younger toddlers. His eyes fell to the other children, each who lazed around together, with his triplets leading the lazing by snoozing away during noonval.

“Kaza Adam?”

“Yes?”

“Where is kaza Jaygak and kaza Kitool?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do not know?” Inakan asked.

“I do not know what I do not know,” Adam replied.

Inakan blinked. “Do not know what I do not know...” The girl thought upon her cousin’s words. “How I can know when I do not know?”

“Exactly.”

“Good,” the girl said, nodding her head, while beginning to lay down the machinations of play.

It was almost idyllic, save for the darkness hanging in the air.

Adam eventually gave up playing with the children, realising he had grown too old, unable to match the stamina of children who had not yet learnt what the word tired meant. He dropped down beside Vonda, the half elf panting for air.

“Hoo!” Adam poured water into a cup, bringing it up to his wife’s lips. She sipped it lightly, before allowing her husband to finish the rest of the water. “What wonderfully troublesome cousins I have.”

“Troublesome?” Vonda asked.

“I’m so troubled by how wonderful they all are,” Adam admitted, reaching out to hold her hand within his own, almost melting into the chair.

Vonda glanced towards her husband, seeing the bags under his eyes, noting how heavy his breathing had become. He was the kind of man to march twenty miles each day, and now playing with children tired him out. She said nothing, however, understanding that it would stress him out if she were to speak with him now.

“Should I get you something to eat?” Adam offered. “I can cut some fruit.”

“Yes, please.” Vonda smiled even wider, allowing her husband to spoil her.

While Adam stepped away to cut some fruit, his eyes darted around the area, noting all the Iyrmen about. Yet, there was no Jaygak, no Kitool. They had yet to greet the twins or his youngest son. On his return, he scooped Larot into an arm, and settled himself beside his wife, offering to feed her using the fork Jurot had carved for him. Vonda allowed it, only because she held Larot’s small red hand, feeling his warmth against her hand.

Once evening approached, the group gathered together around the fire, Jirot and Jarot staring up at their father, their aunt also pouting up at the half elf.

“I know, I know, but we have to, to guide them back home,” Adam said, noting how tightly the children clutched at the lanterns.

“I make light and they can come home, daddy,” Jirot offered.

“Normally you’d be right, my dear, but this time... it’s for the festival.”

Jirot looked up to her grandmother, pouting towards the woman. Sonarot met the girl’s eyes, and for a moment, she thought about relenting, especially since little Jarot was pouting too. She dropped to her knees, pulling them both in for a hug, before also wrapping an arm around her daughter.

“We must burn the lanterns to guide the souls home,” Sonarot said. “If you do not, how can Surot return?”

“Father?” Lanarot asked.

“Yes,” Sonarot replied.

“Baba?” Jirot asked.

“Yes.”

“I do it for baba!” Jirot said, her face contorting. Tears flowed down her face freely, but she tossed the lantern forward, while Jogak picked it up from near the fire, tossing it into the flames properly, helping little Jarot toss his lantern too.

Konarot tossed the lantern forward, but it landed right in front of her, the girl blinking at her lantern as though it had made a mistake, while Kirot and Karot’s lanterns each fell into the fire.

“I did it!” Inakan said, having tossed her lantern within the flames.

“Nana! You see?” Jirot asked, tears flowing down her face, the girl’s lips pushed out as she continued to cry.

“I saw,” Sonarot confirmed, brushing the girl’s hair.

“Silly baba! You must come home!” Jirot hugged her grandmother tight. “How baba can do this?”

A smile slowly encroached upon Adam’s lips. “Of course he’ll come home, since my children wish for it.”

Jurot remained silent, staring at the flames, hearing the sniffling of the twins, and his younger sister. Jurot reached down to tickle the back of Lanarot’s head, before he retreated away from the fire, picking up his son, and his niece, bringing the pair to his chest.

Tariel’s eyes fell to the twins, seeing how they cuddled up against their grandmother. Their amber eyes remained completely focused on their grandmother, the pair brimming with adoration for the woman. She thought, perhaps, that goblins weren’t so bad after all.

Oh.

They weren’t goblins?

Adam continued to stare at the fire, watching the lanterns disappear into ash. It was deep within the night, the half elf holding Larot against his chest, his triplets sleeping nearby, his wife’s gentle breath breaking the silence. He thought of his twins, his precious little Jirot and Jarot, who were within the gentle embrace of their greatparents, of Jarot and Gangak. The half elf closed his eyes.

‘Bell?’

[...]



Uh oh.