“No…” the tiny girl whispered, shaking her head lightly.
“I see…” the older woman, who she called her nana, replied.
“No…”
“Then, should I bake you a potato?” the woman asked.
“No,” the girl replied, though she bowed her head, and her eyes glead with expectations, and thus the woman surrendered, for if she took after her elder brother, she wasn’t sure if she could continue to accept the position of Family Head, not when there was so much blood to spill.
“Thank you,” little Virot said, tapping her chin gently to her nana, and to her kako, so big and red she was, not as big and red as other papos and kakos, but she was still a giant in comparison to the girl.
“Virot, good eating,” Kavgak said, brushing the girl’s cheek, cleaning her face with a damp cloth. “It is ti for walking.”
“No.”
Kavgak held her hand, and dutifully, the girl accepted her hand and walked off with her kako, the children sauntering off.
“Have you heard any news?” Mirot asked, for it had been quite so ti, and sohow, the news would have travelled towards them.
“No,” Shikan replied, and his eyes slowly swayed to the side, to look at the Rot Family Head, who remained worried.
At this point, they really should have heard sothing, and yet…
“It seems…” Shikan began, only to find his courage slipping every with every letter, and so he stood, rolling his shoulders, making his way to train lightly in the evening. As he walked out towards the nearby training area, he found a familiar form, the red skinned woman cutting through the air. How long had it been since she started training like this?
“Shikan, should I have stepped out?” Kaygak asked, for her two eldest had stepped out, and though she did not worry for her Taygak, Laygak on the other hand…
“The wound in your heart…”
“How can you suggest there is a wound in my heart?” the woman replied. “How could my nephew wound my heart?”
Shikan smiled beginning his warm up and stretches, anwhile the woman considered the fool of a nephew, who had ended up defeating her so thoroughly when he was but barely an Expert. He was, in many ways, half as powerful as he was now, and in other ways, not even a quarter as powerful as he was now.
‘I should at least reach Master…’ Kaygak thought. Her thoughts fell upon Gorot, who had quietly stepped into the realm of a Master, much to the surprise of almost everyone. Yet, it was she the children were closest with, so why didn’t she step out?
She stared at the tip of her blade, and before her was the mory of her eldest son. It was that brat of hers who she now struggled to defeat. Three tis out of ten, he might have been able to defeat her, but never in her life did she think that, in his early twenties, that brat would be able to press her back.
It was not long after that fool beat her that her son had managed to place within the tournant.
Her Laygak?
Top ten?
Then there was little Taygak, who was, at her age, perhaps unrivalled, even within the history of the Iyr, had there been anyone who had reached such a height at her age? Not an Expert, no, but she was definitely an Adept. It was that title she should have reached in a decade, for her daughter was talented, but she needed a strong, stable foundation.
Except, could she deny it? When Taygak had defeated even those in their twenties? Not just Aldishn, or Aswadians, but her fellow Iyrn. Even those whose nas were not Gak.
‘I should have stepped out,’ Kaygak thought, but even then, she did not think to ask for special training.
She stopped, staring up at the darkening sky. She closed her eyes, and though back to the ti when she had crushed her daughter’s heart before the girl was even able to dream.
‘We are too weak,’ Kaygak stated simply.
‘Okay,’ a little four year old Taygak had replied, shambling away.
‘Weak?’ called a voice, and it was at that ti, the steel rung so clearly within the air. Even Kaygak, the Expert that she was, was unable to defeat the wall before her. ‘Do you think my grandniece would be so weak?’
Kaygak had sheathed her blade, but standing before her was that monster, the one with one arm, who she had grown up hearing the tales, and had only seen his greatness as the one who stepped out to slay Forgryn, not even calling the might of the Iyr to do so.
‘It is rely the truth.’
‘What an unfilial child you have raised, Tangak!’ Jarot had exclaid, raising his axe, and as the rage filled him, he threatened to cut her neck, but even he could not bring the steel down onto her head. ‘You may be too cowardly to step out, but do not speak the words to my Taygak!’
Kaygak held her uncle’s gaze for a long mont, but he would never understand, for he was not born a Gak. Even Churot, whose mother once held the na, would not know, for he was a Rot, a great fortune.
Kaygak opened her eyes. She let out a soft sigh, burying the regret within her heart. As she stared at her sword, she saw the image flash of another sword, that which once belonged to her grandfather, now in the hands of The Red Hand of the Mountains. It was but one of many of their blades which was considered lost, yet to find its way back to their family.
“Mama!” called a child, rushing up to the woman, who sheathed her blade and, with so effort, picked up her youngest.
“Faygak.”
Faygak blinked. She smiled, and then turned, pointing to the air behind her. “Kaka…”
“Where is she?”
Faygak blinked. “Gone?”
“She was with you?”
Faygak blinked once more, and then squird out of her mother’s grasp, rushing out towards the entrance, looking this way and that, until she pointed to a familiar figure. “Mama!”
“Do I look like you mother?” Zijin asked, peeking down at the girl. “Even if your cousin is now an Elder, you cannot bully like this.”
Faygak blinked. She smirked.
“What brings you here?” Kaygak asked.
“I have news,” Zijin said, handing over a piece of paper to the woman, who read the contents.
Kaygak blinked.
PATREON FOR 30 CHAPTERS!
I wonder what was written.
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