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[1391] – Y06.291 – Sorrowed Hearts I
🕑 Added 2025-10-05 17:00:12 +0000 UTC“How was it that you managed to kill him?” Mirac asked, for there was too much ambiguity in the half elf’s statements, even though he spoke clearly. It was impossible, wasn’t it, for a young man to defeat the likes of a Paragon? It was one thing for Jurot to defeat his sister, but another for Adam to reach such a height.
Adam held out his hand towards Dunes, who unstrapped his swordbelt, and placed the sword upon the half elf’s palm. Adam held it tight in hand, noting the details of the sword he had enchanted, squeezing it tight as the tingle of great magic slipped through his hand and through his arm.
“This blade is one of the greatest magical weapons within our arsenal, and it was this blade which brought justice to the land, and some peace to the hearts of my children,” Adam said, his voice heavy, full of a threat, the kind that suggested it’s task was not yet complete, for how could it be, when there were so many who wished for the deaths of his children. “It was this sword which many wish to covet.”
“What led you coming to blows in such a manner?” Mirac asked, trying to coax more from the half elf, his eyes firmly pressed upon the young man.
“He wanted to call for injustice on behalf of his Vice Commander, who I slew last year,” Adam said, the flashes of the scene slipping into his mind, and his heart began to flutter with heat, the kind of heat that needed to spill blood, but even as his he grew itchy, he fought away the thoughts.
“Why did you kill his Vice Commander?”
“He killed my adorable children,” Adam replied simply, his tone full of darkness.
‘His children?’ Mirac thought, noting the half elf, then his brother, taking a moment to consider his words. “I am sorry to hear that, kal.”
“What kind of man kills children of three and two?” Adam asked, his gaze beginning to overwhelm the half dragon, who had yet to understand what he had said. ‘I should have slaughtered them like dogs.’
Mirac finally understood what the half elf said. He wasn’t a fan of the Aldish, they were almost as bad as the Aswadians, but at the very least they wouldn’t go around killing… Mirac recalled how many innocents died in the countless wars thus far, many of whom were children, but the half elf did not speak of war, but something else, he was certain of that.
“The Iyr showed them mercy, but they wished to die,” Jurot said, his tone ice cold, bringing down the temperature around them.
“The Aldishmen, they dare to spit on the mercy we of the Iyr showed them?” Chosen called out, the young man tensing up slightly, since such a thing happened to his nieces and nephews and he was not there to assist them. So what if he had not met his nieces and nephews? That was no excuse for failing in such a basic duty.
“They stepped towards our land with such an attitude,” Tanagek said, remaining calm, his eyes trailing towards Mirac. “At least they now understand.”
“They now understand?” Mirac asked.
“They came to our lands, demanding injustice for killing our children, and once they refused their vows upon the resolution of the duel, we deals with them justly,” Tanagek said, recalling how excited he was during the fray, able to fight beside his father, and watching his granduncle’s swordplay from so close.
“They killed… Iyrmen children?”
“Yes,” Jurot stated firmly, the others allowing him to speak the words. “My nephews, Jarot and Larot, and my niece, Jirot, was harmed.”
“It was Jurot who held King Merryweather at bay,” Kitool said, calming the Iyrmen around slightly with the words, and though Jurot could still feel the heat of rage through his heart, he calmed slightly from the pride.
“What a dark time indeed,” Mirac said, clearing his throat. “Your children are Iyrmen, but you and your wife are not?”
“Correct,” the half elf replied.
“Would you be willing to speak of this tale to us?”
“Jurot will speak it,” Adam said, standing up, making his way to one side. He, somehow, conveniently, managed to sit near the old man who was certainly just a gardener, the half elf greeting the people, before offering them a block of the smoked meat he had procured from the sand giants a while ago, which was still good to eat, especially with cheese.
Mirac listened intently to the tale, for he needed to write it down for their records, partly to spread the information, as the Iyr would like, and partly for their curiosity, especially his mother’s. The amount of names the Iyrmen listed, as well as their feats, caused his heart to beat quickly, especially since, apparently, the Deathsingers slaughtered so many fine Aldish warriors.
‘How will Aldland respond?’ Mirac thought, suddenly far more interested in the tale, out of a morbid sense of curiosity, but also because if so many figures were killed while the Reavers were active…
Adam spoke lightly with the villagers, many of whom were drakken, some human, most dark skinned, the drakken with various scales.
“Hey, why are you getting your ahm to pour you drinks, you punks, you should be pouring him drinks,” Adam complained, pouring the fellow who was certainly just a gardener some pink tea, while berating those of his generation. “Seriously!”
Manixzur understood the half elf had caught the old man, and the way he was tiptoeing around speaking with him was just him being coy. She had no idea the half elf was just a fool and hadn’t noticed anything. When Adam finally returned back to the group, the tale finishing a short while ago, he brought with him a platter of desserts they handed him.
“So they thought your children were goblins and demons?” Mirac asked, understanding how the Order may have come to slay his children.
“Yes.”
“So killing a go-,” Mira began, only for a roar to echo out towards her, the dragon growling and snarling towards her daughter. Her heart pounded wildly, for though her mother allowed her to live a life of causing trouble, even the old woman had her limits on what was acceptable, and provoking the Deathsingers was among such a limit.
Adam held Amal against his chest, the girl screaming and crying from the loud roar, though quickly soothed against his chest, sucking her thumb. “He wanted to duel, and unfortunately for him, I’ve never lost in front of my children before.”
“…”
Adam spoke harshly, too harshly, that kind of harshness that brought a chill in the air. He was, after all, a father still in mourning, and as he spoke, even his companions could hear the fresh pain within him. It was no wonder he continued to cause such trouble for his group.
“Would you be willing to prove your strength?”
“You know, I’m beginning to think that all this asking for me to prove my strength is a little disrespectful. If I asked someone like ahm Ashmir to prove his strength, wouldn’t it be disrespectful?”
“The Lion King has spent decades making a name for himself,” Mirac replied simply.
Adam let out a soft sigh, almost a hum. “Alright, fine. Do you have a two Masters I can face at once then?
Two?”
“Two.”
“…”
“…”
“Nevermind, kal.”
Adam glanced aside to Taygak, wondering if he should show off, but then recalled Dunes’ warning. “It’s fine. I don’t expect you to believe me. It’s not like the Iyrmen have a reputation for speaking the truth.”
“It seems your journey has been long,” Mirac said, noting the frustration within the half elf’s tone.
“Yeah.” Adam sighed once more. ‘We should have brought along another item that summoned a steed. We could have travelled so many more miles each day…’
The half elf wondered just how many more magical items he could make in order make his journey so much smoother. Storage rings were one thing, steeds another, but there must have been so many items they could use to make their journey smoother, easier, or just more agreeable on their stomachs.
‘‘I should enchant Greater Steeds one day. I wonder if I can pick that up? Flying steeds to carry us, but then if we're travelling on land we could have more pack animals? Or we could just have an additional steed to carry our stuff in general?’
“What kind of business do you do?” Mirac asked.
“We work with the Enchanter, one who enchants items for us to sell,” Adam replied.
“What are the prices of such items?”
“These days, about a thousand for Basic, two and a half for Greater, then some more for Basic Enhanced and Greater Enhanced.”
“What of Legendary?”
“We don't sell such items.”
“The Enchanter, can they make such?”
“Last I recalled, Lady Manixzur doesn’t like to give out her secrets, I would hope you would respect us enough not to ask either.”
Mirac smiled, the kind of cheeky smile as though he was caught, causing even his sister to side eye him. “What is your position?”
“I'm a Chief Executive Officer.”
“How did you gain the position?”
“Jurot is my brother. His mother is the President, and she holds the same rank as the Enchanter. I also am decent in smithing and alchemy, so I hold the title of Head Smith and Head Alchemist. You mentioned you were an Administrator? What do you do?”
“I am in charge of the day to day activities of the village, as well as guiding the nearby villages.”
Adam smiled. “You’ve worked hard.”
Mirac’s heart throbbed. “Thank you.”
They continued to chat. Adam thought deeply about all the matters, but then glanced aside to Taygak. ‘It’s difficult if we can’t fight much, sorry Taygak.’
