Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

[1125] – Y06.025 – The Skirmish II

Mana: 13 -> 10
Spell: Fly

“Do you need assistance, Elder Peace?” Adam asked, ready to carry the Great Elder back to the fort as death surrounded them.

“I am grateful for your kindness, but I do not require your assistance,” Elder Peace stated, and as the fighting raged around her, she turned and approached the river, skipping along the river towards the fortress. She approached the gate, even though she could have ran up along the walls.

Adam flew overhead, towards the top of the wall, before dropping down upon it. He held out his arms, allowing his children to swarm him, all save Larot, who watched the onslaught with his hands tied behind his back.

“You silly girl!” Adam dropped to his knees, embracing his green skinned daughter, the girl’s tears dripping down her cheeks, though her smile was so bright. “Why are you crying?”

“I do not know!” Jirot squealed, clutching her father’s head, kissing the top of it.

Little Jarot clutched at his father’s collar tight in hand, the boy also crying while smiling, his eyes full of such delight.

Adam coughed lightly, his chest growing heavy as the relief set within him, the half elf struggling to breathe. He planted firm kisses all over their heads, before he nuzzled his triplets, whose tails swung so ecstatically behind them, threatening to break apart their babo’s wooden leg.

“You are so strong, daddy!” Jirot stuck her thumb into her mouth, though even her thumb could not hide the wide smile on her face.

“Am I?” Adam asked, raising his brows questioningly towards the girl, who blinked up at him then giggled so adoringly.

“Daddy…” Karot pouted, his hands over his ears, the boy’s tail and ears drooping.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, trying to put Jirot and Jarot down, but the pair clutched at him tighter.

“Huu…” The boy’s face contorted as he made to cry, only for his father to embrace him close.

“Jirot, Jarot, you must watch,” the old Jarot said.@@novelbin@@

“We should go away from all the death,” Adam said, his son’s tail curling slightly as his father swallowed him into his armour.

“No,” the old Jarot said, his voice heavy, his eyes glued upon the battlefield. “Jirot, Jarot, you must watch. Your nanos, babos, nanas, babas, kakos, and papos are fighting for you. You must watch.”

“I watching, I watching, babo!” the girl retorted, very obviously not watching.

‘…’ Adam decided against asking. “Jirot, Jarot, make sure you look. Karot…” Adam reached down to cover the boy’s ears, pulling the boy close to his chest.

“Daddy! We are too far away! We are too low!” Jirot huffed.

“Come,” Gangak called.

“No!” Jirot cried aloud, completely meaning the word, but her arms had already reached for her nano. She clutched at her father’s collar for a moment, the girl frowning, but she eventually let go. Little Jarot held his father’s neck tightly, his eyes shut tight.

“Jarot, you must watch,” the old Jarot said.

“Huu…” the boy complained.

“You must watch.”

Adam held Karot against his chest, blocking his sight, while the boy continued to cover his ears, and little Jarot peeked over his father’s shoulder, sucking on his thumb, his eyes glued to the battlefield, watching all the figures fight.

“Do you understand now why your father is so strong?” Chief Iromin asked.

Jirot glanced up towards the Chief. “My daddy is strong because he is strong.”

“Why is he strong?”

“He can beat up the Stars.”

“Why?”

The girl blinked. “He can beat up the Stars because he can beat up the Stars.”

“Why?”

“I do not know!” Jirot huffed, pouting up towards the Chief, before she squirmed within her nano’s arms, the girl wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck. “Daddy is strong, and daddy loves me so much, and I love my daddy so much!”

Gangak winced slightly as the girl cried out, but she planted a firm kiss on the top of the girl’s head. “If you knew, why did you say you do not?”

“I do not know!”

Chief Iromin chuckled, before excusing himself, allowing the others to watch the slaughter in peace, making his way towards the gate.

Elder Peace remained praying over her beads to the sound of death. She paused, opening her eyes slowly drifting to take the Chief into her sight. “Did you notice?”

“I noticed something,” Iromin admitted.

“What did you notice?”

“…” Iromin turned towards the field, where the Iyrmen danced, painting painting the fields red with blood. The flowers they would plant here would grow well. “I have assigned eight.”

Elder Peace narrowed her eyes slightly. “Eight?”

“Eight,” Iromin confirmed.

“Not four?”

“When he returned from the fort, I increased the number to eight.”

Elder Peace stared out towards the fighting, the symphony of death filling the air. She considered how the Iyr would typically assign ten to kill the likes of the Divine. “I apologise for doubting you.”

“It is a luxury afforded to the Great Elders,” Iromin replied, not taking it personally. His eyes darted towards the commotion.

“You have to watch the battle carefully!” Shikan said, while his daughter rushed along the wall towards her cousin.

“I watched! I watched it, daddy!” Inakan replied, charging towards the half elf in purple. “Cousin Adam! I watched so well!”

“Of course you watched so well, since you are our Inakan,” Adam replied, a large smile upon his face. He rocked his son from side to side, as his daughters held onto his elbows, the girls watching the battlefield in awe.

“Mokan watch so good too!” Inakan stated, the girl hugging her brother, who was as large as her, and slightly wider.

“Of course our Mokan watches so well, since he’s such a good boy!”

Mokan flushed slightly, but though his cheeks were so shy, his toothy grin was not quite so shy as he revealed his bright smile to the world.

Kavgak stormed her way towards the half elf with her confident steps, the girl slapping the side of his knee. “Good.”

“Kavgak’s praise is the best, isn’t it?” Adam replied, smiling even wider.

Tavgak blinked towards the half elf, before she looked up towards her elder sister, Taygak. Taygak had almost reacted identically to Kavgak, though due to her height, she slapped the half elf’s breastplate. It was a good thing her younger cousin knew how to praise well, but of course she would, since Taygak had guided over her well.

As the children gathered around the half elf, the adults held onto their tiny hands, not allowing them to watch so close to the edge without support. It would have been awkward to leap down to save them from the water, and there was a small chance the day would be marred by their negligence, for falling into the stream was the best outcome if they were to fall.

“Ah,” Adam said, before reaching out to the sword beside him, the same sword Maygak had tried to reach for. “Katool, here.”

Katool blinked at the sword, her eyes glued to it. She looked up towards her sister, who plucked the sword from Adam’s hand, since it was unsheathed. “It is mine, cousin Adam?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Katool furrowed her brows.

“It is!”

“You are not joking?”

“Why are you making it sound like I bully you?”

“You bully me all the time!”

“The only one who bullies me as much as my daughter is you!”

“I do not bully you, cousin Adam!” Katool clenched her fists tight. “Sister, you must tell him.”

“I cannot lie,” Kitool replied.

Katool flushed, but was quickly distracted by Kitool offering the blade’s hilt. “Really?”

“Take it carefully, and hand it to uncle Shikan. He will hold it while mother is fighting.”

“Mother is fighting?” Katool asked, her eyes instantly darting away from the Legendary Enhanced blade to the battlefield.

Kitool’s heart pulsed slightly, glad her sister had understood which was most important. ‘Should I go fight too?’

Chief Iromin watched the commotion settle down as the children’s eyes turned to the battlefield. He was glad Elder Zijin had allowed the older children, the likes of Taygak and Katool, to watch the inevitable duel, and the almost equally as inevitable slaughter.

“Why are you sighing so deeply?” Elder Peace asked.

“Today, it has changed, but we will not see it for years to come. The victory, the slaughter, will engrave within their hearts. The youngest children, they are too young to remember, but if Elder Zijin is right, a few of them might remember today as their first memories. I pray it is.”

“Today is a good first memory…” Elder Peace narrowed her eyes. “Will you take the Elder’s proposal seriously?”

Iromin smiled, his small eyes narrowing down until they were almost shut tight. “I wonder, did the previous Chiefs feel the same way? Ah, yes. I have planted the trees, but I will not know the shade.”

Elder Peace’s eyes fell to the children who watched the battlefield, almost mesmerised by the dance of death. Murot, who stood so tall and wide. Maygak, who clutched at her sister’s hand tightly, who was strong enough to accept the grip. Faygak who hid slightly behind Maygak, half hiding from the world, and yet she was just as tough to accept the grip. Mokan, who held his sister’s hand, his eyes sometimes drifting away to check upon Inakan. Alykan, who held each of her elder twin sibling’s hands, while her slightly older sister stood in the corner by herself, and an Iyrman who watched over her, of course. Then there was Minool, who was uncharacteristically still, though the Iyrman in her was no doubt the reason why she was so still. Finally, there was Jazool, who stood beside a hornless red skinned Iyrman toddler, whose arms were tied behind his back.

What did their eyes see, she wondered.

‘Hmm,’ Larot thought, musing upon the half elf’s strength. ‘Hmm.’ He wondered. At the height of his strength, could he have done the same? Certainly, he was much stronger than the half elf, but could he, with a singular focus, defeat a Paragon so quickly.

‘You are acceptable.’

You thought it was going to be a chapter about death and destruction, but it was actually a weirdly wholesome chapter!