50. Dangerous Thoughts
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Adam stared at Dargon, whose lips were twitching in a smug, knowing smile. He wasn’t sure why the Iyrman was so excited, but he glanced to Kandal and Eshva, who had been overjoyed to hear the tale of their ancestor’s fights. Dargon had done well in mentioning Tova’s fight in detail, but also the ensuing battle.

The pizza had gone down well in the Iyr, to the point that his old Iyrmen companions had barged in to politely ask if they could taste some. With the power of pizza looming over their heads, Adam had traded the taste of pizza for the end of the story. It was a steep price to pay, but he couldn’t deny them the taste of his favourite food, for he had a heart.

“Okay,” Adam said, nodding his head slowly as he chewed on the end of the story. “I can see why the current King wouldn’t dare to pick a fight with the Iyr.”

Adam was still worried, but considering how the Iyrmen had glossed over how they had managed to assassinate the various nobles within their own homes, and how they had abducted the Queen so easily without anyone knowing.

‘These guys are terrifying,’ Adam thought, wondering if they would still be able to do as they pleased. “Still, you should be careful, being outnumbered and all.”

“The Iyr hasn’t been truly threatened over a thousand years,” Dargon said, biting into a pizza slice. “Even if the Kingdom outnumbers us a hundred to one.”

“If it is ever threatened, we will fight for it,” Tazwyn said, as though that was all there is to it. She finished the pizza with all the vegetables, before biting into some sliced meat she had prepared.

“I hope it doesn’t happen any time soon,” Adam admitted. “I don’t even have Fireball.”

The Iyrmen threw him a queer glance as he went into thought, but continued to enjoy their pizza. He would always say things which surprised them, but they were getting used to it.

“What happened to the Prince and Princess?” Adam asked. They had just mentioned it in passing, but it had alarmed him.

“They were adopted into the Iyrmen families,” Amokan replied simply, taking lead in the conversation.

“Right, but which families?” Adam glanced his way. Amokan had been listening in intently to the story, even though his family had not been mentioned once during the tale.

Jurot smirked smugly at Adam once again, before catching Amokan’s gaze. The pair exchanged a conversation with their eyes.

‘Don’t tell him.’

‘I won’t.’

“Perhaps you’ll find out?” Tazwyn said, barely able to contain her smile.

“I thought Iyrmen were straight talkers,” Adam grumbled. “How disappointing.”

The Iyrmen glared at Adam, feeling his words swing at their pride. Eshva growled quietly, gritting her teeth to stop herself from snapping at him.

“You are not close enough to the Iyr,” Amokan said, plainly.

“If you spar with us, we will tell you,” Timojin assured, biting into some of the meat Tazwyn had brought.

Amokan threw the orcish Iyrman a look. “You would say it so simply?”

“Adam may be an outsider, but his gift was better than ours,” Timojin replied, sternly. “Aren’t you ashamed.”

“Do I look like I know how to enchant? If I were stronger, I would have brought a dragon’s fang!”

“Then let’s spar with him so we can grow stronger!”

The pair of Iyrmen butt heads together, while Kitool placed a hand on their shoulders. “Stop embarrassing yourselves in front of the half elf.”

Adam chuckled, shaking his head. “Dargon, I didn’t hear mention of one of your ancestors.” Dargon had been so smug the entire time, yet there was little mention of any of his ancestors within the story.

“You did,” Dargon replied, simply.

“I did? When?”

“You haven’t figured it out?” Dargon asked, throwing the same smug smile to the half elf.

‘Seriously…’ Adam paused for a long while. ‘Who was it that could have been…’ Adam rubbed his chin gently. “Wait a second. Greatsword. Greatsword…” Adam squinted his eyes, staring suspiciously at the Iyrman. “Was it Elder Wrath?”

Dargon grinned wide, crossing his arms as he jut out his chest. “It took you long enough.”

Kitool threw Adam a look, wondering what she should say. “Did you figure out my ancestor?”

“Your ancestor?” Adam stared at her, narrowing his eyes. His first thoughts went from one Great Elder to the next. “Elder Peace?”

Kitool’s lips twitched into a smile. “It is my honour to be the daughter of such a fine name.”

“Wow,” Adam said, nodding his head. He hadn’t expected all these Iyrmen to have such close ties to the story. “I can understand the feeling of having great ancestors, though…”

“Though?” Jurot asked, his ears perking up.

“Even if your ancestor is amazing, it doesn’t mean that you’ll end up just as great, right?”

“That’s true,” Jurot said. “To take pride in your family is a great thing, but to shame someone else for it, it’s despicable. Most within the Iyr have at least one great story with their ancestors.”

“The Iyr doesn’t seem to place much stock in blood relations, though,” Adam said.

“We don’t,” Jaygak agreed. After all, back during the Blackwater Crisis, there were no devilkin in the Iyr.

“I assume the nobles in the Kingdom care greatly?”

“They do,” Jaygak said, recalling how her people were still persecuted in the Kingdom, even as Iyrmen.

Adam nodded his head, sighing. “That’s just typical, isn’t it?” He took a long moment to think, his thoughts bouncing from one place to the next. “Does the Iyr still have Drakkenslayer?”

Amokan nodded his head, unable to stop himself. “We do.”

“So the Iyr has the ancestral sword of the Blackwaters, and adopted two members of the dynasty...” Adam’s voice grew quiet.

“It is dangerous to think about such things,” Tazwyn warned, finishing the next slice. Her eyes were stuck to the meat, but Adam could see the fierceness within them.

“You’re right.” Adam suddenly felt as though he had painted a target on his back. He cleared his throat. “Your ancestor was pretty cool though, managing to find a Roc.”

Jurot smiled. “There are now Rukhs within these lands once again because of my ancestor!” Jurot puffed his chest with pride, nodding his head.

“What?”

“There are now Rukhs within these lands once against because of my ancestor!” he repeated, gleefully.

“Aren’t Rocs terrifying?” Adam tilted his head, his face full of shock.

“They are,” Jurot said, nodding his head. “There are Greater Rukhs as well.”

Adam coughed. “In this land?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s dangerous to walk the lands.”

“Very,” Jurot said, excitedly.

Adam looked to the other Iyrmen, who were beaming up at him. ‘Right, I forgot I was the only normal person here.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘They’ll be the death of me, I swear.’

“Still, it’s amazing to here about the tale. I wouldn’t have believed it. I mean, how could anyone believe that you Iyrmen, outnumbered roughly four to one, could force the King to surrender, only to then influence the politics of the Kingdom after causing the various places to kneel.” Adam wondered what it could be compared to in his previous life. “Though, I’m sure the Kingdom has its own version of the story.”

“Yes,” Dargon replied back, instantly. “The Iyrmen attacked without warning, slaughtering several towns.”

“The King’s army fought brutally, only to surrender under the tricks of the Iyrmen, and so the savages stole the land and wealth of the Kingdom, causing it to fall into chaos for another five decades.” Tazwyn shook her head.

“It was only thanks to the wisdom of the next King that the Iyrmen were once again allied to work against the giants,” Amokan finished.

“So how did you manage to ally with the Kingdom again?” Adam wondered.

“Chief Tamin and Elder Peace extended a hand once the Kingdom was under threat again,” Amokan said, recalling what had been told to him. “The Blackheart family had been kind to the Iyrmen during the various wars up north, and so when they were threatened, Elder Peace believed it was the best time to reforge a relationship.” However, he also knew why Elder Peace wanted to reforge the relationship.

“What a tale,” Adam said, glancing up at the morning sky. “I’m glad that you all managed to figure it all out in the end.”

“Things have changed since that time,” Dargon said. “Now the Kingdom thrives with such great wealth and strength. There is also the Drakkenlen, the Kingdom of drakken to the north.”

“Oh? Is it due to that drakken that Akrat saved?” Adam wondered just how much influence these Iyrmen have had on this world.

“Partly,” Tazwyn said. “Queen Silvari rules the Kingdom, having brought it under her heel. Her family had always been a strong influence in the region for centuries.”

“A drakken Kingdom to the north…?” Adam tried to recall his past life. ‘I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a thing last time. Didn’t the drakken and the giants join together?’ He rubbed his chin, squinting his eyes in thought once again. He was trying to form a picture of the world, using the Iyr as a baseline.

Dargon threw a look to Tazwyn, and then back to Adam. “You did not know?” he asked.

“I didn’t know there was a drakken Kingdom, no,” Adam replied.

Dargon threw another look to Tazwyn, who was staring at Adam.

“What?” the half elf asked.

“You’ve never heard of Drakkenlen or Queen Silvari?” Tazwyn asked.

“Neither,” he replied. ‘Heh, Queen ah da norf.’ He shook his head, smirking at himself. ‘Too bad the last few seasons were absolute dog.’

Tazwyn’s eyelashes fluttered violently, trying to think about what Adam was saying. ‘What?’ This was more unbelievable than him saying he had died several times already.

Even Jurot, who had been with Adam when they had met the Queen, was giving Adam a suspicious look.

“What?” Adam asked having snapped out of his thoughts, noting all the Iyrmen staring at him.

“You don’t know Queen Silvari?” Jurot asked, leaning in close, staring deep into Adam’s eyes.

“No, of course not!” Adam pulled back away from the Iyrman, whose face had been far too close for his liking. “How am I meant to know the Queen?”

‘He doesn’t know?’ Jurot thought.

“Have you finally finished the tale?” a weak, feminine voice called from behind.

The voice caused Adam to snap his head in her direction. Sonarot was using a cane to walk as she stepped through the Rot family door, before slowly falling onto the rocking chair beside it.

“Are you alright?” Adam asked, scrambling up to stand at her side.

“I’m fine,” she said, sighing slightly. “She was such a little fighter, wasn’t she?”

Jurot stared at his mother, but he recalled the sight of her giving birth, and his face contorted into an expression of tamed horror.

“She’s going to be strong,” Adam assured her. “After all, she’s a daughter of Jargon, isn’t she?’

Sonarot only smiled at the words. “Did they mention the Rukhs?”

“They did,” Adam replied, smiling.

“Back then, the Rot family was at its peak. Jarot had done much for it, though he had left the Iyr for fifty years.” Speaking about Jarot was quite weird to her lips, considering it was the name of another member of the Rot family. “Jarot had returned only to inform the Iyr of quite some news.”

“What kind of news?”

“It’s a tale for another time,” Sonarot said. “You must be tired.”

“Tired? Me?” Adam stared at her for a long while. “Sonarot, I’m not the one who gave birth. It feels weird that you should say that about me.”

“Didn’t you say you were but a feeble mage?” Sonarot smiled. “I will be returning to rest soon, I just wanted to see my little Lanarot.”

“Do you need help?” Adam asked.

She extended a hand and Adam took it, helping her walk to the Ool family, where Lanarot was currently sleeping. The little girl was still so tiny, with a wrinkled face, like a raison. Even so, to Sonarot, she was the cutest little thing in the world.

“Hey,” Jaygak whispered. “You should do something before he steals your mother.”

Jurot threw her a glare, which caused her to retreat beside Kitool. “Mother is kind,” he said, simply. “Adam may be weird, but I am his good friend.”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t trust him?” Jaygak asked, squinting her eyes at him.

“I don’t trust him, but I’m still his good friend.”

“Jurot, you sure still say some stupid things, even after-” Jaygak ducked under the cloth which Jurot had snapped at her.

 


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Next chapter will be an interlude, I think? The Iyr seems to have some people who can think at least.

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