[1059] – Y05.059 – The First Rains of Duskval

[1059] – Y05.059 – The First Rains of Duskval

The rain fell across the Iyr’s lands, a gentle rain, that eased in the season of duskval. The businessfolk dotted the nearby landscape, the farmers already out early in the morning. Greg’s massive form remained within the business, chopping up all manner of vegetables, preparing the early morning meals of porridge, grilled vegetables, meat stew, and bread. After Korin’s disappearance, he had taken the role of the head chef, his knife work almost as good as the Aswadian’s.

Dunes checked his notes, marking the matters clearly, before he shut the book. He sipped his water, tasting how different it was to the water back in Aswadasad. He thought of the sharp flavour of blackcurrant, and closed his eyes. His shoulders grew heavier, his legs falling asleep, trying to stop the Manager.

Dunes stood.

“You’re leaving?” Amira asked, reaching out for his hands.

“Yes,” Dunes replied, allowing his wife to take his hands. She held them for a long moment, the pair feeling how rough their partner’s hands were.

“Don’t take too long.”

“I will return soon,” Dunes assured, embracing his wife within his arms tenderly, the pair sharing a tender kiss.

Amira watched as her husband stepped away, making his way to the gate, escorted away by Gorot. ‘Dunes...’ Amira sat back down, meditating, doing her best to deal with the rising stress. ‘How could you bring such stress when I’m with child? What a fool I’ve married!’

“I will leave the business in your care for now,” Dunes said, handing the book to Jonn, before his eyes darted aside to the man who stood opposite. “I am certain you two will be able to manage during my short absence.”

“Right,” Fred replied, unsure of what to say to the Manager, who had suddenly sprung this upon them the last evening.

“The Manager is leaving?” George asked, his gem glowing lightly. He stabbed his grilled potato slice, biting into it as his eyes trailed after the Manager.

“Yeah,” Fred said. “He’s going to do some important business.”

“Ain’t the important business here?”

“Most of it.”

“Is he going to see Executive Adam?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” the boy said, blinking out to the Manager. “He could have taken our gifts.”

“I don’t think I can stop him now.”

“Aaw.”

Fred let out a small sigh, smiling slightly. “Come on, let’s get back to the others.”

“Okay.”

Dunes and Gorot trekked through the land, heading out to the Front Iyr. Gorot wasn’t sure if what he was doing was right, but since it was a request from Manager Dunes, he had to take it seriously.

‘I’m sure you understand,’ Dunes had said.

Gorot could feel how heavy the blade upon his back had become, and he understood that the Manager’s blade weighed equally as heavy.

As the sun rose over the Iyr, Adam brushed little Jarot’s hair, sweeping it to the side, flicking it near the end of the brushing. The half elf smiled, standing his twins side by side, having brushed Jirot’s hair up and back to her left, while brushing his sons hair down and to his right.

“Hmm...” Adam rubbed his chin lightly. “So troublesome, so troublesome. How can my children look so adorable?”

Jirot reached out to place a hand on her father’s shoulder. “Is okay, daddy. We are mummy’s children.”

“You’re right,” Adam said, nodding his head lightly, before allowing the twins to dart away, brushing his son’s hair. As Larot sauntered off, Adam glanced to the side, noting the towering form of Kavgak, the girl holding out her brush.

“Brush,” the girl demanded.

“How do we ask nicely?” Adam asked.

“Brush, please.”

“How well behaved,” Adam replied, smiling so brightly, before brushing the girl’s hair, noting the queue forming beside him. Adam brushed their hair one by one, tying their ribbons, slipping on their hair pins. ‘My cousins, how can you be so adorable?’

“Kekekeke,” Jirot squealed as Lucy tossed her up, catching the girl as she came back down. “Again! Again!”

Little Jarot pouted at Mara as she held him, the woman bringing him to her side, deciding against tossing him up. Jarot cuddled up to her chest, wrapping his arms around her, allowing her to hold him so tenderly.

“Today?”

“Okay?”

“What will you do today?”

Jirot blinked. “I must play with daddy today, okay? You must tell him.”

Sonarot smiled slightly. “I see. You must play with your father today.”

“I must, nana, I must!”

“You must if you must,” Sonarot said, before her eyes darted to Adam, who held Minool, and pretended to struggle as the girl fled from his arms.

“Gosh! How can she be so fast?” Adam thought, reaching up to rub his head, as though it had taken so much effort from him to contain the girl.

“Daddy!” Jirot called, holding her brother’s hand, pointing at her father with the other, wielding her hand like one might wield a blade. “You must play with me today!”

“I must play with you today?” Adam asked.

“Yes!”

“What about Lucy and Mara?” Adam asked.

“Yes!”

“What about papo Jurot?”

“Papo?” Jirot asked, blinking. She looked towards her uncle, who remained silent, the Iyrman holding his son within his arms, the boy staring up at his father’s silhouette. “Papo, you will play?”

“Okay,” the Iyrman replied, reaching down to brush his son’s hair.

“Papo is going to play too!” Jirot gasped, her eyes meeting her brother’s, both filled with equal parts surprise and joy.

“Papo!” Little Jarot called.

“Mummy! Papo is going to play too!” Jirot said, rushing up to her mother’s side, placing a hand on hers. “I not going to bully, just a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Vonda replied, brushing the girl’s hair, swiping it backwards so she didn’t ruin her hair.

“Hoo! Mummy!” The girl reached up to her hair, pouting.

“What are you saying? Your mummy is so much better than daddy at brushing hair. You look even more beautiful now!”

Jirot glanced towards her father, before standing up tall, letting out a small huff. “Of cuhs, since mummy is mummy.”

“That’s right!”

Adam decided against working that month, up until the children were born. They had gotten to that time when the children were due any day now, and the half elf didn’t want to miss their births.

During the first week of duskval, Damokan and Kalokan each turned twelve, the pair accepting the gift from their cousin. Adam spent a little bit of time each day casting his spells to forge various items, though made it clear that anyone could interrupt him to stop him. He gifted them both a pair of near identical blades, save one held a blue hint and accents, while the other held red.

Adam hugged them both. “You two, why are you both so tall now? You’re growing up a little too quickly, aren’t you?”

“Cousin Adam...” the pair replied, allowing him to embrace them. They had already expected it, but as the half elf held them so tightly, they understood he would be unable to keep his promise to them. Even so, they could no longer complain to their elder sister.

“Look what Minakan and Alykan made for you,” Adam said excitedly, revealing the paintings the girls had made for their elder siblings.

“It is very good,” the pair stated together.

Minakan and Alykan both smiled, while their elder twin siblings hugged them so tightly. Halikan watched as her children all embraced one another, while Rokan exchanged a look with his sister, Arokan, before he glanced down towards Konarot. The girl waited so patiently for her father to return, before she finally held up the gifts she and her siblings had prepared, a pair of bracelets made from painted hydra scales.

It was later that evening when Rokan stepped out, only to stop when he noticed the other figures who had stepped out so late too.

“Duskval is so chilly this year,” Jogak said, smiling slightly, as though he had made a joke, though the words struck through the hearts of the nearby Iyrmen who could not sleep.



What a wholesome, sweet chapter about a birthday, with no undercurrent of things to come.