“I didn’t expect him to know the silverdrakken,” Argon said in their tongue, throwing a glance back towards the half elf. 

The group were trekking their way along the river, through the dense forest. The rushing river provided them just enough cover that their words wouldn’t be caught beyond the group. Adam was currently talking with Dargon and Jurot, not paying attention to the Iyrmen.

“Who would have expected that?” Tazwyn replied, shaking her head. “He may have come to the Iyr on her behalf.” Someone meeting a dragon so close to the borders of the Iyr had alarmed the Iyrmen. They would need to pass along the information soon. 

“I don’t think so. She wasn’t acting when she revealed her surprise.” Argon recalled the reason why Adam said he had come, which seemed to set off some alarm bells. If he was going to meet Entalia, he would have been more forthcoming after meeting her.

“Could they really just be friends? Who is just friends with a dragon?” They both knew many people who were just friends with dragons, but they were those highly skilled or powerful. 

“Old flames?” Argon suggested.

“With him?” Tazwyn asked, her voice dismissive.

“He is handsome enough.”

“He is, but is that enough for that woman? She has a pick from more than a million men where she’s from, several thousand who could snap the boy like a twig, by steel or sorcery. Why would she pick some half elf still wet behind the ears? His blade is still unmarked by the blood of a worthy foe.” Tazwyn restrained her voice, trying to not sound too harsh, though Adam would most likely not understand what she was saying.

“Isn’t there a tale about an elf and a dragon?” Argon asked, half serious. It was one of the most popular tales in the Iyr, one of the few which had become the oral canon within the Iyr. 

“There are more tales about Iyrmen and dragons,” the heavily armoured Iyrman refuted. She grew up hearing a dozen stories about Iyrmen and dragons, and the offspring they produced. There were many half dragons which walked with Iyrmen blood, though very few ever stepped foot in the Iyr. “He’s also a half elf, not an elf.”

Argon shrugged his shoulders, conceding the point. “He has also said so many ridiculously things.”

“Perhaps he’s just stupid?” Tazwyn tried to remember all the things he had said to her, like how he had died several times before. “Or crazy.”

“Or too smart for us to comprehend.” 

“Dangerous.”

Argon couldn’t help but agree. “More importantly, he seems to know Sonarot’s condition.” 

Tazwyn could hear the worry in the man’s voice. “Which is impossible,” she reassured.

Argon could feel something within his gut which was telling him something was wrong. Though, when he had been grabbing his blade the night before, his gut had told him not to draw it.

Tazwyn had been with him for so many years, that she was in tune with his thoughts. She knew he wouldn’t draw his blade that night, but she was fully prepared to try and stop him. If he had wanted to kill Adam, it would have been difficult for her to stop it alone.

“Unless he had been to the Iyr previously...” Argon whispered. He thought about the recent news in the Iyr. “Which visitors have we had recently?”

“No half elves,” Tazwyn replied, confirming his thoughts. 

“Unless he was disguised.”

“…”

Argon conceded the point again. It was the stupidest thing he had said for some time, but he wanted to cover all the bases. There was something he was missing, something which was gnawing at him. ‘Should I really bring him to the Iyr?’

“Let’s leave it to your brother for the moment,” Tazwyn said, patting his back. He had been thinking too much.

Argon nodded his head. “We’ll keep a closer eye on him too.” 

Eshva and Kandal had been listening in on the conversation, taking on the words. Dargon had kept Adam and Jurot busy by talking about various different Iyrmen materials for weapons, having recalled Adam could smith. Since his brother needed time to speak with Tazwyn privately, he had to provide a distraction.

“I still hope to work with Iyr Ivory,” Jurot said. “It is beautiful. I’ve held it once, when I was first learning my trade.” He recalled learning under his mentor, who had allowed him to touch all kinds of previous wood. Iyr Ivory felt so heavy, more like marble than wood. He tapped the wooden boar in his pocket, which was still quite rough, though it was coming along well. 

“Once you reach Mithril Rank, eh Jurot?” Dargon chuckled. “Though you might want to reach Gold Rank. Iromin has become so stingy with it.” Dargon frowned, recalling how his mother had tried to redeem some wood, but had been denied for a few years. 

Adam threw a glance back to Dargon’s tag. Steel Rank, which was below Mithril and Silver. “Mithril? That’s some time away, isn’t it? Just how many Mithril Rank Iyrmen are there that you don’t have enough Iyr Ivory for them?”

Dargon just smiled, winking at Adam. He wouldn’t be able to reveal the number, even if he wanted to. He didn’t want to scare the boy, but it was also because Adam’s threat rating had increased.

Adam stared up at Dargon, wondering what that had meant. He wondered how many people were in the Iyr too, but asking that question after meeting with a dragon did seem a little suspicious. ‘Should I have explained it better to them? Meeting with a dragon isn’t the craziest thing in this world.’

They followed along the river, catching the sight of many bones being swept along. There were some humanoid skulls, but a fair number of beastly skulls too. Whichever undead had found their way into the river would have found themselves dead again as they crashed against the various stones and boulders. Many of the bones were broken, with white splinters rushing along the surface of the rushing water.

“Again?” Argon threw a look back to Tazwyn. 

Tazwyn frowned, but could only nod her head. It seemed they had arrived late again, as there were too many bones here for just a small attack. 

The late afternoon sun beat down as they finally saw the signs of the village in the distance, the smoke of a fire pit, as well as the opening paths heading towards the village. The Iyrmen had moved swiftly through the forest, with a renewed sense of urgency after seeing all the bones.

The village’s walls, which were made of wood, formed a fence around the village as expected. The earth around had been dug out, creating a difficulty for the undead. Small outposts were set near the entrances, manned by young men and women, who were keeping an eye out. One section of the wall had fallen, cracked apart by the force of a horde of undead, and was currently being cleared out so the villagers could fix it.

A teen squinted their eyes to see the figured in the distance, before they blew a whistle. The shrillness of the whistle alarmed the villagers at once, setting them into a panic. Villagers scrambled for weapons as the Iyrmen approached, but when the guards at the front noted the Iyrmen, they began to cheer.

“Iyrmen!” one called out.

“The Iyrmen are here!”

“Iyrmen!” The villagers erupted in relief, a chorus of the word soon passing through the village.

The Chief quickly appeared, an older woman no older than fifty. She was short, barely reaching Adam’s chest with the top of her head. She wore thick furs around her body, as well as a set of scale around her chest, which also fell down her waist, with a belt around it to keep it pinned to her. There was an axe at her side, but she kept her trusty spear in hand. “Iyrmen!” she exclaimed in relief. “It is always a pleasure to see you.” She smiled wide, but her eyes remained tired.

Adam couldn’t blame her. The village had seen many better days, that was for certain. It wasn’t just the wall, but a large number of the buildings had been damaged too, brought down by the undead. The villagers were still cleaning up the bones of the undead, which seemed to have appeared the night before considering how many still remained within the walls of the village.

“It seems we were too late again,” Argon said, frowning. Seeing it confirmed with his eyes caused the Iyrman to clench his fist, but then sigh out to calm himself. He threw a glance back to Tazwyn, who nodded her head and led the Iyrmen and Adam inside to assist. 

“We didn’t expect it either,” the Chief admitted. “They came so suddenly in the night, much quicker than normal. We hadn’t noticed them until they were already at our gates.”

“A difficult task,” Argon said, wondering how they would have missed the undead. There was no way a village here would have missed the sighting of the undead, not when they were so practised. The undead dared not to pass through Iyrman lands, so would come from the north, east, or the south, the river at their west providing more than ample protection.

“Magics, we thought, but we’re no good at discerning that sort of thing. If it wasn’t for the elf, we would have been in trouble.”

“An elf?” Argon asked, narrowing his eyes.

“An elf?” Adam called out, stopping. He had followed Tazwyn, but was eavesdropping on the Chief and Argon. He quickly pulled back towards them. “What did she look like?”

“Beautiful,” the Chief said, a nervous smile appeared on her face. “As one would expect of her kind.”

“Emerald eyes? Hair like liquid copper?”

“Yes, the very same,” the Chief said, raising her brows in surprise, glancing to Argon, who held recognition in his eyes.

Adam threw a look to Argon too. “Looks like we owe her one, huh?” A smile crept across his lips. 

“The undead came last night, and then she appeared?” Argon asked. It wasn’t an accusation, just a confirmation.

“Yes, late in the night. The undead appeared out of the darkness, and when they had overrun the wall, we thought all was lost. Then she appeared, with her blade in hand. It glowed silver and blue under the stars.”

“She must have seen the struggle of the village and stopped by to assist,” Adam said, looking to Argon. He could see the suspicion in the man’s eyes.

“She used ice magic as well,” the Chief said. “Come, look.” She led them to a part of the village towards the east, near where their wall had broken. Within a giant block of ice, easily as tall and as wide as any of their buildings, stood ten skeletons mid attack, frozen. Nine were humanoids, but one was a large wolfish beast.

“She is pretty powerful,” Adam said, nodding his head, still smirking from behind his helmet. He knew just how strong Entalia was, but he was intrigued about this sword. ‘It’s not Prince Aksak’s sword, is it?’

“We hadn’t expected an elf to help us.” The Chief stared at the block of ice, seeing the frozen skeletons. “We’ve never had trouble with their kind before. Still, after the massacre…” The woman’s voice trailed off. It hadn’t happened so long ago, and they had heard the rumours from passing travellers, though those words held little weight when the Iyrmen passed by so frequently. She avoided mentioning the three hundred dead. Those three hundred, she had met most of them, as almost every Iyrman who entered this land passed by through the village.

“Not all elves are like that,” Adam said, taking off his helmet. “I came to help, didn’t I?” He revealed his fey features, his handsome face and pointed ears. He smiled a smug smile.

The Chief’s eyes lit up with surprise. “You’re an elf too?” She hadn’t expected to meet another elf. Her village may have seen hundreds of Iyrmen, but elves were something else entirely. Now she had met two elves in the span of a day. “Do you know her?”

“What, you think just because I’m an elf, that I know her?” Adam narrowed his eyes at the Chief.

“Well, you shared a look with Argon, so I thought…” The Chief looked to Argon, who was still in thought. 

“I do know her, but not because I’m an elf.” Adam grumbled quietly. “She’s a friend of mine.” Adam looked back at the ice and the skeletons trapped within. ‘It’s a good thing Entalia passed by, otherwise what would have happened to these people?’ A thought passed through his mind. “How much did she charge you?”

“Nothing,” the Chief replied.

“Excuse me?” Adam asked. He shook his head, furrowed his brows, and then prepared himself. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” the Chief said. “She didn’t charge us.”

“Are you sure?” Adam blinked. ‘What?’ He glanced around the village. “Are you missing any people?” Had she stolen a few people to toy with? Perhaps some children as payment?

“Other than the dead, no.” The Chief shook her head, staring at Adam’s face curiously.  

“She… she didn’t ask for anything?” Adam blinked repeatedly. ‘Entalia. Not charging?’ She was a dragon, and dragons weren’t the most selfless creatures. “I can’t believe it…” he whispered under his breath.

“She didn’t ask for anything. We tried to pay her for her service, but she didn’t accept anything. She didn’t even accept any of the furs we offered her, or the food, or even some of our wooden instruments, make by Mo himself.” The Chief shook her head. 

“…” Adam narrowed his eyes suspiciously, deep in thought. He looked up to the sky, looking at the clouds overhead. His lips formed a taut frown.

“Why? What’s wrong?” The Chief stared at Adam, wondering what he was thinking. ‘Is the beautiful elf woman going to come back and demand something outrageous?’ The way Adam was reacting caused her to think twice about the matter.

Adam reached up to rub his eyes with the sides of his wrists, shaking his head slightly. “I get the feeling she’s going to charge me.” 

“Why would she do that?” The Chief furrowed her brows and tilted her head slightly. She wasn’t following Adam’s logic.

Adam stared at the Chief for a moment. “It seems I can’t escape her in this life either.”

The Chief glanced to the Iyrman but then looked back to Adam. “You should be glad. She is beautiful and a great fighter.”

Adam blinked again, wondering how the conversation had turned. “I’m not looking for someone beautiful who is a great fighter.”

‘What did he just say?’ Argon blinked. 

The Chief narrowed her eyes slightly, and stood a little taller. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m not looking for anything. I’m still young.” He could see the look in her eyes, and it was not he liked. “Shouldn’t I go around to various inns and sow my seed into a thousand fields or something?” 

The Chief looked at Adam as though he were made of cow dung. “I see. You’re one of those.”

“I-I’m not! I just don’t want anyone right now!” Adam’s cheeks took a rosy flush, slightly embarrassed by his crudeness.

“You should settle down quickly,” the Chief said. “You’re a grown man, and handsome too. You might be a half elf, but there are many women who dream of being with an elf. You’re no Iyrman, so you don’t have to prove yourself. It’s about time you find someone, settle down, and have four or five children.”

“I’m an Adventurer,” Adam said, wondering why he was currently having a talk about marriage with the Chief. “I, you know, adventure.”

“In this day and age, even Adventurers settle down young.” The Chief threw a look to Argon, who had figured out what she was trying to do. He decided against assisting her, keeping himself out of the conversation.

“I don’t want to,” Adam grumbled. “I want to explore the world with Jurot. I want bromance, not romance.”

“Well, if you’ve chosen an Iyrman to be with you, then that’s fine too. They’re quite strong and dependable.” She smiled at Argon, who nodded his head.

“I don’t mean it like that either!” Adam turned red hot in the cheeks and stormed off. “I’ll go and help.” 

“What a shame,” the Chief said. “I have two granddaughters his age.”

“I didn’t expect you to marry an elf into your family,” Argon said, looking at the back of the half elf. “Considering you’re a part of Central Aldland.”

“He doesn’t seem too bad,” she replied. “As if the King holds much sway here. The Iyr is just a hearty leap away. Even if we live near the Iyr, it’s always nice to have something else going for us. You are equally as impressive as you are terrifying. A half elf would be mysterious enough to bring in visitors. Have you seen my great grandchildren? They’re cute, but they aren’t going to be making anyone swoon when they’re older.”

Argon shook his head, understanding that the woman was going to drag him into a conversation he would be ill equipped at handling. “We will go find some food for you. Tazwyn will remain behind to assist with the village.”

“Thank you, as always.” The Chief smiled, and pat Argon’s head as he bowed down for her. 

The Chief was twice his age, and he had met her when he was still a teen. He always swung by the village on the way back, regardless of which way he approached the Iyr, making sure that everyone here was fine.

‘I let down my guard,’ the Iyrman thought. ‘I will ask to be stationed at this village next time.’