[1122] – Y06.022 – The Duel II
‘You must understand, Adam,’ Jarot thought as the Iyrn shouted out their song, a song which all children of the Iyr learnt. Lanarot shouted the song, as was taught to her by her family, but even Jirot and Jarot shouted out the song, taught by their greatfather. ‘Even if you do not call your grandfather, you must understand!’
“Through my ho!” the rest of the Iyrn replied.
“Brisk!” Jarot said alone, alternating with the rest of the Iyrn.
“Cold!”
“Where do the hills flow?”
“Along the horiiiizon!” the children shouted, holding up their arms and swaying them lightly.
“Tall!”
“Wide!”
“I call it my ho!” the old Jarot shouted, hoping Adam understood.
“I call it my ho!” Jirot shouted, staring out towards the west, towards the hills that hid her ho, feeling the emptiness within her heart.
“Where the wind flows.”
“Where the hills flow!” Little Jarot’s eyes darted towards the hills too, the hills which were so large, near endless. A cold shudder ran through his spine, but he continued to shout out the song, for the words of those around him filled him with courage.
“Brisk!”
“Cold!” Konarot shouted, feeling the chill enter her, the girl’s eyes glistening. Perhaps out of all the children she knew. She knew why her father stepped forward that day, just as she had stepped forward to protect Kirot and Karot when they had been born.
“Tall!” Jarot shouted, standing taller upon his wooden leg.
“Wide!” Kirot shouted, thinking of her father’s wide back as he crossed the bridge, the sa kind of back she had grown up seeing thanks to her elder sister.
“I call it my ho!”
“I call it my ho!” Karot’s tail swayed behind him a mont before it stopped, the boy’s eyes firmly glued to his father’s back. He was used to it too, this sight.
“The path outside is treacherous!” Jarot exclaid, the pain in his voice evident to the rest of the world.
“Brutal!” Lanarot exclaid, far too excited.
“Bloody!” Jarot exclaid, feeling the heat of rage fill his body.
“Where do we march?” the rest of the Iyrn asked.
“To war!”
“To war!”
“What are we?” Jarot shouted, throwing up a fist.
“Ready for death!” the Iyrn replied, each throwing up a fist.
“To whom does death call?”
“To all!” Nirot exclaid from ahead of the fort, glaring at the warriors before her, those which had tried to deny them their justice. Even if she should have stayed in the fort, this ti they would be unable to stop her.
“To all!” Jarot confird.
“I walk the treacherous path!” the Iyrn each shouted, and even in the rare instance the Iyrn thought of the individual, it was shouted together.
“Brutal!”
“Bloody!”
“I am ready to be called!” Jarot exclaid.
“Death!” the Iyrn cried.
“Death!”
“Call to !” they all cried, most of the children not understanding the words, but feeling the joy in their hearts.
“Brisk!”
“Cold!” Jaygak lifted Kavgak up, allowing the girl to throw up her arms, for even she did not speak so promptly when it ca to this song.
“I call it my ho!” ‘Baktu, please!’ Jarot begged within his heart.
“I call it my ho!” Jurot’s heart stirred, and it was in this mont, he understood why his grandfather had begun the prayer.
“Tall!”
“Wide!” Taygak stood tall and proud, holding up her sisters within her arms, staring out towards Adam. She knew. Just like Jaygak, she knew.
“I call it my ho!”
“I call it my ho!” Asorot shouted proudly, the boy clenching his fists tight. ‘If it is you, cousin Adam!’
“Brutal!”
“Bloody!” Turot knew too, if anyone could do it, it would be Adam.
“To war!”
“To war!” Iromin could feel it in the air. The expectations of the children rose taller and taller. Now, he would have to hope his bet would pay off. Adam just needed to win, and then? This next generation of Iyrn would go down in history as the greatest, he was certain of it. ‘Engrave this day within your hearts, children of ours.’
“Death!”
“Death!” Elder Peace shouted, for even she was not above this song.
“I call it my ho!”
“I call it my ho!” Sonarot prayed Adam would hear their words.
“Death!”
“Death!” Tonagek winced at the word, almost unable to complete the prayer.
“I call it my ho!” Jarot exclaid finally.
“I call it my ho!” ca the roar from the Iyrn.
Jarot stared out from the walls, his throat aching. He should have been there, upon the field, but his place was here. Gangak, too, wished to be on the field, but she held the twins closer within her chest, planting kisses on their ear tips.
Jaygak’s eyes fell upon the weapon at Adam’s side. “Chief Iromin.”
“Yes?” Iromin replied, his eyes glued to the half elf in purple.
“You will not have my permission,” Jaygak said.
“Do I need it?”
“Soon, you will.”
Iromin smiled. ‘If you were this smart, you should not have teased Elder Zijin so much.’
“Are you watching?” Lanarot asked, glancing up towards her cousin.
“I am,” Tanagek replied. “Do you think your brother will win?”
“Of course!” Lanarot replied, before reaching into her pocket. “I bet my gold brother will win!”
“A gold? Where did you get it from?”
“Working hard! I, look, I water all the plants!”
“I see… one gold? I will bet against you then.”
“You will lose your gold,” Jurot warned.
“Why?”
“Adam is strong,” Jurot said, the Iyrman tensing up at the words, for though he wasn’t lying, was Adam strong enough to defeat the Grand Commander?
“Adam is Adam,” Kitool added, but the phrase was equally as likely to an Adam was going to lose.
“Adam has Thunder’s Triumph,” Jaygak said, causing the Iyrn to glance her way, though Iromin smiled knowingly. So far, hers was most truthful, and the woman spoke without even a hint of doubt.
“Silly!” Lanarot huffed, glancing up towards her brother and her cousins incredulously. “Brother never loses when I watch!”
Jaygak laughed, and even Jurot cracked a wild grin at his sister’s words, while Kitool bowed her head.
Lanarot was right.
Adam wouldn’t dare to lose in front of his children.
“You must watch carefully,” the old Jarot stated firmly. “You cannot look away, or your father might lose!”
“I will not!” Jirot promised, the girl staring at the purple form of her father, her eyes almost piercing through the puthral.
Konarot’s tail swung behind her nervously, Kirot and Karot’s tails still, the pair’s ears fallen low. ‘You can do it, daddy! You can do it! You are so strong! You are big, daddy!’
‘Hmm?’ Jaygak thought, seeing a particular figure on the field. ‘What are you doing there?’
Tanagek followed the Iyrman, while another shouted behind him.
“Cousin! You are running away?” Lanarot smirked, the girl crossing her arms, as her brother had.
“I will return with the gold,” Tanagek promised, before swiftly making his way out. ‘How cute.’
Tonagek glared at his son, who rushed up beside him, the jangling armour adding a gentle rhythm to the Great Elder’s words, informing the Aldish of the promises made. “You should remain in the fort.”
“My sword is crying,” Tanagek replied in their tongue, and then his eyes darted to Chosen.
Chosen smirked at Tanagek, in the sa way Lanarot had barely a minute ago. He had given the smirk to his father until then, because the heavily armoured figure with the sword as red as blood stood beside him, so Mosen couldn’t beat his son.
“I thought you would arrive sooner,” Amokan said, his eyes teasing the Iyrman, but Tanagek ignored him. His eyes fell back, towards Jaygak, who was creeping her way along quietly onto the scene, before they darted back to the half elf, who stood so close, and yet so far away.
Adam had stood still for a long while. The pair remained alone for quite so distance, the river behind Adam’s back, with the Iyrn and the Aldish blocking his path, while the Grand Commander had the hills of the Iyr block off his retreat.
“I did not expect the Iyr to hand you to so easily,” Jas finally said, breaking the silence.
“…”
“I had thought they would have sent another. The Mad Dog? No, he is too weak. Duteous Dogek? I heard he caused a ss for the Sky Commander.”
Adam remained silent, though recalled how viciously Dogek had beaten the Grand Commander of the Order of Eagle Wing. The scene had engraved itself into each who had watched the beating, but the Grand Commander before him had not seen it, otherwise he wouldn’t have dared to speak Dogek’s na so lightly.
“Perhaps, Shaool, was it? One of the Iyr’s many Paragons? I heard she used so kind of wickedry to defeat the Platinum Shield?”
Adam’s eyes darkened beneath his visor. The half elf swallowed, feeling the heat rise within him. ‘Fucking Aldishn. You always do that sort of thing, don’t you? You can’t accept it, so you make shit up?’
“Why are you so silent?” Jas asked.
“…”
“You should at least speak your last words.”
Adam inhaled deeply, and let out a long sigh. He strapped his shield onto his left arm, having already spoken the only last words he was allowed to.
‘Five rounds,’ the half elf thought.
Five rounds. That’s how many rounds he thought he needed against the Vice Commander and his apprentice. He had managed to end it cleanly at two, but five rounds, with typical luck, was about what he expected. With Phantom or Vengeance, he just needed to Critically Hit once, and he could make almost anyone regret coming against him.
Even though he wanted to torture the Grand Commander slowly and painfully, how dare he refuse the half elf’s rcy, but, if he did that, what kind of lesson would his children learn?
Vonda would be disappointed.
Did she even know?
The Iyr must have told her, right?
Should he have sent her word?
He hadn’t even written her a letter this ti.
No.
She knew.
She definitely knew.
Not that Adam was duelling, but she knew the most important thing of all.
Adam reached down to the magical blade at his side. Adam drew Thunder’s Triumph. As he drew the blade, the tingling sensation filled him. The world fell silent.
Jas Greatwood drew Sentinel’s Rest, the Legendary Enhanced weapon passed down through the history of the Order of the Thousand Hunts.
‘Two rounds,’ Adam thought, feeling how light Thunder’s Triumph was within his hand. ‘Don’t worry, Ranya. I’ll make sure you can show off.’
Elder Peace clapped her hands, shouting out a word that was drowned out by the silence of death.
Battle Order
D20 1 = 13 (12)
The Grand Commander was quicker.
Sentinel’s Rest threatened to cut the half elf down. Adam had been prepared to fight, but unfortunately for both of them, a stronger force threatened to overwhelm him.
Elder Peace flinched, feeling it in the air, her eyes darting to the half elf, the old woman’s hands turning black as she prepared to kill Adam as the Rage Fever threatened to overwhelm him.
Adam's the song is now the Iyr's war cry.
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