“Look at him!” Jarot said, raising his hand. “Is my grandson not amazing?” He stared up at the rest of the Gak family.

“Yes,” Gangak, the Family Elder of the Gak family, replied, smoking her pipe. “We know. Once Jaygak returns, I will convince her to change her mind to marry the boy.”

“Jaygak has not been able to claim his heart,” Jarot said. “She may find it difficult.”

Naqokan slowly nodded her head, still filled with hope that she could still aim for Adam. ‘If he joins the Kan family, he will bring us much honour. Since he is only a Nephew, he should be willing to join as a full blooded member of our family.’ As she stared at Adam holding Lanarot, she frowned. ‘No, I should prepare to give up the Kan family name.’

‘Does he really not like men?’ Laygak thought, wondering if he had a chance. ‘No, I should assist cousin Jaygak. No, she is a lost cause.’

“Are you alright?” Vonda asked.

“I’m fine,” Adam replied, though he didn’t convince her in the slightest.

“You did well,” Vonda said. “Now you can gift the magical weapons in peace.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, though he frowned. “I really shouldn’t have fought my sister’s Aunts and Uncle.”

“Are they not your Aunts and Uncle as well?”

“Are they? They certainly don’t want to be.”

“They don’t know you like Jurot knows you.” Vonda smiled. “They don’t know the way I know you.”

“You know, Vonda, I hope we’re friends for a long time,” Adam said, a sad smile appearing on his face. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but it’s not the time yet. We haven’t known each other long enough.”

“I wish for the same, Adam.”

“It still feels weird, you know? Surreal. Fighting three Iyrmen in two days and beating them. I know I’m strong, and I know Phantom is a terrifying weapon, but it just feels so weird. Even without Phantom I’m pretty sure I can take out Experts relatively easy.” ‘I’m nowhere near as strong as last time, back then I was quadrupole this level? Quintiple? Is that even the right word?’

“You are powerful,” she said.

“Am I?” Adam said, looking down at his hand, only for Lanarot, to grab his shirt and tug against it. “I mean, yeah. I guess I am. I’m not really sure what I’m using that power for, though.”

“You are still trying to learn about yourself, your place in this world. You are young, like me. You wish to operate many inns, one day. To provide a stable source of income for many people, to help them reach their true strength.” Vonda looked to Nobby and Brittany, before looking to Fred.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Sure.”

Vonda reached up to brush Lanarot’s cheek, causing the girl to twitch and look at her. “Then there is Lanarot. Won’t you use that strength to protect her? You have so much purpose already.”

“Purpose, huh?” Adam chuckled. “I should probably talk to Fred more too.”

“He is also finding himself, and you are helping him, aren’t you?”

“I guess.” Adam sighed, letting out some of the stress which had been built up. “Thanks, Vonda.”

“Of course.”

“Jarot, stop being so stubborn,” Gangak said. “Allow him to meet my granddaughters, he will change his mind.”

“Adam’s sights are higher than you can imagine,” Jarot said. “Do you not know that he is close with Queen Silvari?”

“What is Queen Silvari to a Gak?”

“A Dragon,” Jarot replied. “Adam is queer, and so his taste is equally as queer.”

“What are you saying, you old geezer?” Adam marched up to him. “What’s wrong with admiring her beautiful silver scales? There’s nothing wrong with that!”

‘So he is queer,’ Gangak thought. “What of my grandsons?”

“I’m not into men,” Adam stated, firmly.

“You are not?” Gangak asked. ‘He is queerer than I imagined. No, perhaps he is into older women?’

Adam could see she was thinking something outrageous, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I am currently not interested in marrying. Perhaps in a few years time, once I’m not a useless young man who adores his sister too much.”

‘He is queer, but at least he is self aware,’ Gangak thought, recalling how many times Jarot had told her about the Half Elf’s love for his younger sister.

“Once I’m a useful young man who adores his sister too much, I’ll think about marriage.”

“Adam, come,” Jarot called, motioning his hand, before grabbing a bottle with his thumb and index fingers, and three very small cups between the rest of his fingers. He motioned to Mirot, and she followed them to the side too. 

Adam placed his sister down into the snow beside Gangak, and Lanarot looked up at her, just staring silently at the old woman, who put out her pipe, and brushed the girl’s cheek with a finger. 

Adam sat down between them, forming the last of the triangle, while Jarot poured them each a drink. 

“You are strong, Adam,” Jarot said, pushing the cups to each of them. “Stronger than I originally thought. Your axe, Phantom, may be deadly, but even without it I think you would be able to defeat my daughter.”

Mirot remained silent.

“I’m not sure about that,” Adam said. “I’d need to be extremely lucky.”

“I am old, Adam. With this arm of mine, I will not be able to support the Rot family as I want to.” Jarot frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he remembered the painful memory of losing his children and the siblings he grew up with. 

“My wife, Mulrot, and my brother and sister, Tarot and Zirot, they retired early. Sarot is the only one who has managed to reach Grandmaster, but it was something which was thrust upon him after I retired.” He turned to look at Mirot. “I remember when you used to swing on my arm, the one I still have. I would stand near that tree Farot used to pluck fruit from.”

“He would not wait for it to turn red,” Mirot said. “He liked the sourness.”

Jarot smiled. “Do you remember holding onto my bicep as a girl?”

She shook her head. “How young was I?”

“Three or four,” he said. “Maybe five. I may have shown Farot more favour, but I did not neglect you, did I? I gave you and Surot your freedom. Sonarot chose Surot, but it was you who chose Gorot.”

“He liked the sourness of the fruit too,” she said.

“Father, I am to marry this Iyrman,” Jarot said, mimicking the tone she had taken with him back then. “He is not smart, but he can write well.” Jarot shook his head. “Write well. I know why you chose him, you silly girl.” 

“Father,” Mirot said, cutting off the thought. 

“What? I was young too, once!” Jarot laughed. “With my two arms, my red shield and axe. Your mother said that I looked dashing when I fought. Dashing. Not terrifying. Not powerful. Dashing.”

“That was not why she married you,” Mirot retorted, raising her brows at him. 

“You quested as you pleased. You named your daughter and son as you pleased. I have accepted whatever decision you made. Even as you chose to bully your nephew, I allowed it.”

Mirot remained silent, and Adam glanced between the pair, unsure of what was happening.

“I already worry for one grandson, do not make me worry for another,” Jarot said.

“Yes, father,” Mirot replied.

“This business. Your distrust of Adam. Be done with it, daughter. He means us no harm, and even if he did, Sarot can deal with him. If not my brother, how many of our family could he escape? Myself, Mulrot, Tarot, and Zirot? How many cousins do I have who are classed as Masters, even if they did not reach the proper rank through the Adventurer’s Guild? Even with all I have seen, I do not believe he can defeat them all.”

‘God damn, I’m right here,’ Adam thought, not sure if he should react to the threat.

“Adam. The fight was the fight. Do not have any ill in your heart for my daughter, or my son.”

“I don’t,” Adam said. “I can’t even blame her, really. It might be annoying, but I’d probably do the same if I was in her shoes.”

“Is it over?” Jarot asked, looking between the pair of them.

Mirot nodded.

Adam looked to the old Iyrman, before looking to Mirot. He looked past them too, to the group of Iyrmen. Those who were called his Cousins, his Aunts, his Uncles. There were his companions too, save Filliam, who was currently working hard. “I…” Adam began, wondering if he should tell them about his secrets.

The pair waited, their drinks cooling in their cups, which remained between them all, untouched.

“I don’t have a lot of friends or family. Not any more. Save for the few Iyrmen who aren’t here, everyone I can call my friend and my family is right here, within the walls of this courtyard. If you include the entirety of the Iyr, then all my friends and family are here.”

“What of the Dragon?”

“Save for her,” Adam corrected. “I’m what you would call, a little hardcore. If anyone were to threaten my friends or family, I, you know, I get a little angry, to say it lightly. I’ve lost my friends and family once. Excuse me, I’ve lost my friends and family twice. It was rather, chaotic, one might say.” Adam smiled at his little joke. “I won’t let anyone take them away from me.”

Adam’s eyes met Mirot’s. “Anyone.”

Mirot slowly nodded her head. 

“Once you drink, we will leave it in the past,” Jarot said. 

Adam sipped the drink, which was extremely cold thanks to the snow which had begun to crystallize the wine. 

Mirot picked up the wine and drank it.

“Adam,” Jarot said, before drinking down the rest of his wine. “Welcome to the family.”

“Wasn’t I already your grandson?” Adam asked.

“Now you admit to it?” Jarot laughed.

“Adam,” Iromin called, causing Jarot to stop laughing. “We need to talk.”

‘God damn it.’

 

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Adam is a part of the family.

Now the Chief has come to kill him.