He continued to stare at the axe for a long while. ‘It is a pretty cool weapon, though.’ He shook his head, returning back to the Rot family, axe in hand. 

“Look!” Adam said, showing the axe to them. It was a fairly typical axe, save for the beautiful design and the runes on the axe head. 

Jurot was currently writing something down in a book, and Turot was reading something in the corner. Sonarot was currently feeding Lanarot.

The woman stared at him, noting how he had made the weapon in three days, like before. “What a beautiful axe,” she said, unable to be surprised by him any longer.

“Isn’t it?” Adam smiled wide. “It’s got a secret.”

“A secret?” Turot asked, leaning over his book to stare at the axe. “What is it?”

“Why don’t you attune to the weapon first?” Adam didn’t want to spoil the secret right away.

“Attune?” Turot asked, furrowing his brows.

“You need to meditate with it first for a while,” Adam said. ‘Right?’

[Yes.]

“How long?” Turot asked.

‘How long?’

[An hour.]

“An hour.”

“How do I do it?” Turot continued to stare at the axe, his eyes beaming.

‘How does he do it?’

[He must meditate with the weapon.]

“You have to meditate with the weapon.”

The excitement from his face dropped, as though he had just been told he needed to eat the last bits of carrots off his plate. “I can’t meditate,” Turot said. “I’m only a little boy.”

Adam wasn’t sure what he should say. ‘At times like this, shouldn’t I try and support him?’ 

Jurot stared at the axe, seeing the runes on the axe head.

“How about you attune to it first?” Adam offered, handing it to Jurot. “It’s the axe we made together.”

Jurot slowly nodded his head, taking the axe. He wasn’t going to mention how he did very little, as this was the deal they made together, and the deal he had accepted. He headed into the courtyard, settling down in a corner, holding the axe with one hand, resting it over his lap.

“What’s he doing?” Jaygak asked, appearing beside Adam. She was helping to prepare dinner this evening.

“He’s attuning to the axe.”

“Oh,” Jaygak said, before she squinted at it. “The axe you forged the other day?”

“I managed to enchant it since, and it has a secret.”

“Haven’t you been enchanting it for only four or five days?”

“Three days,” Adam corrected.

“You finished enchanting it in three days?” Jaygak asked, tilting her head, her hair falling along her horns.

“Yes,” Adam replied, simply.

She stared at him long and hard. “Is that an elvish joke?”

“No?” Adam glanced her way, before noting the surprise in her face. “Is that quick?”

Jaygak blinked at him. “I can see why you’re Jurot’s friend,” she said. 

“What does that mean?”

She shook her head and sighed. “What does the axe do?”

“You’ll see.”

“Did you hear what he said?” Jaygak asked to Kitool, who was playing with her adorable little sister, Katool, who glanced at Adam and then scrambled over onto her sister’s front, hugging her tight.

“What did he say?” Kitool asked, holding her sister up with an arm.

“He enchanted the weapon in three days, he says.”

Kitool threw a look to Adam, a suspicious look in her eyes. “You enchanted the axe in three days?”

“Aren’t you all excited to see what the weapon can do?” Sonarot asked, butting into the conversation. She understood their suspicion, but they’d need to see it first hand to believe it.

“What does it do?” Kitool asked.

Adam just smiled. “Something cool,” he said, only to internally cringe. ‘I can’t believe you named the weapon something so stupid.’

[You named it.]

‘I swear, Bell, you’re asking for a spanking.’

By the time the food was done, Jurot exhaled, and leapt onto his feet. He stared down at the battleaxe, feeling it throb in his hand. ‘I can its power,’ he thought.

“Is there a place where he can use it peacefully?” Adam asked. “It’ll probably cause a fire.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little fire,” Jaygak said, but she went to grab a long blanket her family rarely used, stretching it between two poles, as though it were a net for tennis. She then placed a wooden slab behind it too. She was excited to see what this weapon could do. 

Jurot grabbed the axe with both hands, drawing it back, ready to throw it at the net.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked, stopping Jurot.

The Iyrmen turned to stare at the half elf, who was giving Jurot a curious look.

“I’m going to throw it,” Jurot said, as though it were obvious.

“Why?” Adam raised his brow.

“I knew you weren’t meant to throw it,” Jaygak said, nodding her head. “It’s too big.”

Kitool could only help but agree with her friend. ‘Men…’

Adam stepped beside Jurot, whispering something in his ear. Jurot stared at the half elf, furrowing his brows, but Adam returned back to Jaygak’s side.

The children had gathered around, and soon the adults joined them. They watched as Jurot extended a hand. The Iyrman inhaled deeply, before shouting an Iyrman war cry, only for it to be cut short as he stumbled backwards. 

As he had cried, his hand engulfed in fire, which had caused him to stumble backwards in shock, and he shot it up towards the sky, a bolt of fire streaking up before dispersing harmlessly.

The Iyrmen stared at Jurot for a long moment, who was staring at his hand. It wasn’t burnt in the slightest, but he could still feel the warmth of the spell.

“Magic!” Turot gasped, half eaten bread falling out of his mouth. “Jurot knows magic?” His voice turned into a squeal at the shock, and he began to cough and choke on the bread. A nearby Iyrman pat his back, helping him breathe.

The Iyrmen turned their heads from Jurot, to Adam, who was slowly nodding his head, a small smile on his face, pleased with himself.

“It is a Cool Weapon after all,” Adam whispered, wincing slightly from the name.

Jurot raised his hand up, and continued to blast the sky with the Flame Bolt, understanding the allure of magic now.

An Iyrman poked his head through the entrance to see what was happening in the estate, unnoticed by the rest of the Iyrmen, who were focused on the magic. 

Adam nodded his head slowly. “What do you think?” 

“It is amazing,” Jurot admitted.

“Once we sell this weapon, I’ll enchant your axe. Do you have any ideas about what kind of enchantment you want?”

“More damage,” Jurot said, his eyes sparkling as he felt the magic in his hand slowly fade. “This magic is nice, but I like to rend my enemies asunder.”

Adam blinked at him. “I didn’t think you were a poet.”

“A poet,” Jurot began, narrowing his eyes, “of death.” The magic had made him giddy.

‘Damn, Jurot’s so manly.’ Adam nodded his head slowly. “I could enchant it with some extra fire damage, probably.” He thought about how many weapons had been enchanted with fire damage. All of them, so far. “What about healing?”

“Healing?” Jurot narrowed his eyes, thinking deeply. “Healing would be useful. More time to attack.”

“I’ll try and do both,” Adam said. “Maybe when you can do more damage, you can heal at the same time, or perhaps it only has a few charges a day?” Adam tried to think about what he wanted to enchant on Jurot’s weapon, theory crafting the weapon before he commit to it. ‘I have to enchant it with healing, that’s for sure.’

“What a powerful weapon,” Sonarot said, rubbing her hand all along it, Lanarot currently cuddled up to her bosom. “What a beautiful design as well, especially the wood.” She smiled towards Jurot, who beamed up brightly at his mother. “Are you going to use it?” she asked Adam. It was a fine weapon to use for him, though he no doubt already had the ability to cast Flame Bolt.

“No, I’m going to sell it, since it might fetch a high price due to its multiple enchantments. I’ll use the money gained to upgrade our weapons.”

“How much will you charge?” Sonarot asked, still rubbing along the handle with her finger.

“How much will I charge for what?” Adam asked.

“To enchant Jurot’s axe.”

“Why would I charge for that?” Adam blinked at her.

Sonarot stopped rubbing the handle, before her gaze fell to Adam. “Why wouldn’t you charge for that?”

Adam glanced between the pair of them, brows furrowed. “I’m not going to charge anything.”

“Nothing?” Sonarot asked.

“Nothing,” Adam confirmed.

“Why?” Jurot asked, crossing his arms. He stared at Adam long and hard, trying to figure out his goal. He could feel the pride of his family was being assaulted. ‘Does he think we can’t afford it?’

“Well…” Adam thought for a long moment. “You’ve taken such good care of me. If I charge you, I’d lose too much sleep.”

“The weapon you’d make, it would be worth at least a thousand gold, maybe two.” Jurot looked to his mother, who nodded her head. “We can afford it.”

Adam shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a lot of money, but there are things more important than gold. I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are,” he said, staring at his mother for support, “but this is another matter.”

“I’m not charging you, and that’s that!” Adam crossed his arms, drawing a line. His raised voice had caused Lanarot, who had been slowly drifting to sleep, to stir and cry. 

“There, there,” Sonarot said, bringing the girl to her bosom. “You’re so difficult, Adam,” she said, shaking her head at him. 

“You’ll get used to it, I’m sure,” Adam replied, cheekily, though he felt a little bad about making Lanarot cry.

Sonarot stared at him for a long while. She recalled his tale, and then stared at her boy, who was still alive in this life. “Then, at the very least,” she said, reaching up to brush Adam’s hair, “you’ll call me aunt, won’t you?”

Adam’s cheeks flushed, feeling her tender hand against his hair. “Uh, sure?”

Jurot’s friends watched, only to think about how they should have offered it to him first.

“Then that makes us cousins,” Jurot said. He wasn’t going to question his mother’s decision.

“Aren’t you meant to be my brother?” Adam asked, cheekily. “Since Lanarot is my sister too?”

“In the eyes of the Iyr-“ Jurot began.

“Yes,” Sonarot said, cutting off her son quickly. “That is the case.” She stared at Jurot, brushing his hair too. “However, that is only within the Rot family, and in the eyes of the Iyr, you are a nephew of our family.”

“I feel like that means something important,” Adam said, catching on to the other Iyrmen staring at him.

“It means you are forever welcome in our home,” Sonarot said, pulling him for a quick hug.

“Oh?” Adam said, feeling the warmth of her hug, before he quickly pulled away. “I should have told you from the beginning that I was going to enchant a weapon for free.”

“You’ve gifted us so much, how could we possibly offer you anything less than this?” Sonarot brushed Lanarot’s hair. “It also means you’ll have a reason to stay here often, and none will suspect you.”

Adam raised his brows wide. “That sounds important. Are you going to get into trouble?”

“Trouble? These are matters of the Rot family. I will inform Elder Zijin tomorrow.”

“I’ll go,” Jaygak said. “I’ll tell him you’ve accepted him!” She turned and ran off, with Kitool following after her, to make sure she wasn’t going to start any trouble. 

“I can no longer take it back even if I wanted to,” Sonarot joked, watching Jaygak rush off. 

Jaygak wondered if she should try and cuddle up beside Adam, since she had lost the opportunity to invite him in as a nephew. “He’s not so bad, besides not having horns.”

Kitool threw her a look, before shaking her head. “What do horns have to do with this?”

“I bet you’d be into him if he had horns.”

Kitool sighed, shaking her head. “There’s only one thing which matters.”

“Horns.”

“Power.”

“Horns are powerful.”

All the while, the Iyrman who had been watching the exchange, slunk away, heading towards the Chief. 

“Chief Iromin,” called the devilkin Iyrman, who wore thick furs, a maul against his back.

“You’ve finally returned, Elder Teacher,” the Chief replied, grabbing the Iyrman’s forearm. “I hadn’t expected you so soon.”

“We were quite lucky on our hunts. Though, I returned and found something interesting. The son of the Rot family can use magic.”

Chief Iromin blinked. “I am certain he is unable to.”

“I saw him shoot fire into the sky with my very own eyes, bolts of fire. Flame Bolt, I’m sure of it.”

Chief Iromin furrowed his brows, wondering how Jurot could have done such a thing. ‘Adam was making a weapon…’

“That wasn’t the most surprising thing,” Elder Teacher continued. “There is a man of elven blood who was accepted as a nephew of the Rot family.”

“You have heard it?”

“I have,” Elder Teacher confirmed. “I have as many eyes as I have ears, and as many ears as I have horns.”

“You should tell Elder Gold,” Iromin said, smiling.

Elder Teacher noted the look in the Chief’s eyes. “Just what happened in the Iyr while I was gone?”

 

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Well, that was easy.