The new moon would soon be upon them, but the stars twinkled, as though imposing themselves against the blackness.
Bael stared towards the sky, laying upon his back, the cool air of Arisa blanketing him. He had watched the young Iyrman stare longingly towards the heavens, a mournful look within his eyes, and once he slipped back into the estate, Bael took on the role of allowing a chill into his heart.
The half dragon closed his eyes, feeling the gentle rain against his skin, of a ti long before, before even those wrinkled ones had been born.
However, as the mories flooded in, his mind returned back to the present, finding himself floating in the middle of the air, his shalwar fluttering in the wind. His eyes fell down towards Arisa, which was so far below him, sprawling out towards the horizon, hundreds of thousands of buildings spreading across the land.
Bael reached out a hand towards the sea, and as he clasped his hand over it, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and within the blink of an eye, he was at the sea, in which the Great Urkina, who had settled herself deep within the sea, erged, forcing ships to crash aside.
“Did you feel it too?”
“Yes,” Urkina admitted, their eyes eting for a mont, but after a mont, Bael held out a hand, and dismissed the old woman, who was beyond ancient, and though she had spent most of the millennia asleep, how many could dare to clash against her? There was a reason why the Iyr had placed her within their murals, for even Bael would need to expend his entire strength to clash with such a figure. Even so, he flew through the air, towards the sea, until the sensation disappeared, causing him to stop. The clouds gathered around him, like sprawled bottles around an alcoholic, and though the clouds tempted him, Bael clapped his hands, dispersing the clouds.
It was only upon the clouds refusing to dissipate, did the half dragon turn, staring towards the clouds, which crackled with lightning.
“…”
“…”
It was not the sa sensation, the kind of sensation which was not there, and yet he recognised it was there, this was a presence he managed to catch, but it, too, soon disappeared. However, was it just that kind of figure which had noticed such a presence?
As lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, a fist, with the full weight of the storm, thundered through the air.
“Mother’s rcy,” he said, who was a simple old man, certainly not a legend that ti had forgotten long ago. He wore simple clothing and carried a staff, a simple staff, and certainly not a legendary artefact. He wore a bracelet of bronze balls, certainly not the kind which held great magics. He was a simple figure, the kind whom remained completely unnerved, even with the beastly look within Bael’s eyes, so full of hunger, even as a gentle palm had stopped the half dragon in his tracks.
“Whose spawn are you?” Bael asked, drawing the strength of the storm, the clouds gathering all around him, lightning flashing, striking the half dragon, covering him in a sheen of great strength.
“Mother’s rcy, this humble one apologises for surprising you, great hero.”
‘Mother’s rcy?’ Bael clenched his fist tighter, and as quickly as the storm had co upon Arisa, it disappeared, lightning flooding across the land, striking across the hills, even across the docks, the ships, and the sea, until only a kiss of the storm remained upon he who could control the storms. “You must be…”
Bael stood, alone.
‘I should have…’ Bael began to think, as though he hadn’t struck the figure with almost his entire strength, and yet had been so simply dealt with. ‘There is little chance he was one of the Mother’s. Is he one of Death? No, he did not possess such an aura. Yet…’
Bael held up his fist, feeling the numbness of coming across a mountain he was unable to punch through. ‘How many of the Divine have stepped onto the land recently?’
As Bael floated back to the estate, with the eyes of the Iyrn upon him, he noted a particular Iyrman’s eyes glued onto his. Though he held a great respect for the Iyr, even he would not allow it to oppress him. However, she was not just an Iyrman.
“There are already three within our group,” Bael inford, but he said no more, for it would be best to speak with the Great Elders himself once he returned.
Shaool bowed her head as Bael floated onto the roof, as graceful as any butterfly, and settled himself against the wall, allowing the cool air to accompany him to slumber.
The next morning, within the bath, the half elf helped his children bathe, making sure to clean the back of their ears, necks, and along the areas which were most difficult to wash. Once they were done, he applied the various lotions of the Iyr, and the children returned the face, assisting in rubbing the solid liquids across his necks and arms, the half elf applying them to his face.
“Are you excited?” the half elf asked, assisting the children with pressing down their collars, pulling their clothing up properly.
“Yes!” Konarot replied excitedly, and Kirot and Karot smiled, though they were not as excited, they still wished for their eldest sibling to enjoy her ti at the exhibition.
“Daddy, it is ti to go?” Jirot asked, her eyes sparkling, with little Jarot blinking up towards his father innocently.
“We will get there at noon or so, my dear, but mister Tamil asked us to visit him before we go, and we’ll go together.”
“Can we go now?” Jirot asked innocently.
“Dear, we-,” Adam began, though a sudden flush of cold slipped through him, and he caught Jirot’s eyes, which were confused as to her father’s reaction, though the half elf smiled wide. “If you wish to go now, we will go now! Who can stop !”
“Daddy! How are you more excited than ?” Jirot teased, giggling as the pair embraced, the half elf showering her in affection, the girl squealing as she retreated to her mother, her brother following after he was showered in such affection.
“If you wish to go, who can stop you?” Adam declared, clenching his fist. “Yes! If my daughter wishes to leave now, we can leave!”
“We will leave in half an hour,” Vonda stated.
“We will leave in half an hour!” Adam declared once more, holding his daughter’s gaze, the girl also flushing lightly, though she wished to leave now, if her mother said they would leave in half an hour, they would leave in half an hour.
They left in half an hour. It was not just Adam and his children, but also those assigned to watch over the children, and thankfully, in a show of rcy, the Mad Dog did not step out, for Lanarot wished to buy a scarf, and thus the old man left to go buy a scarf with his granddaughter, who held up a thumbs up to her eldest brother, who himself returned a thumbs up to his sister, for Lanarot was certainly her niece’s aunt.
“Do you think I cannot refuse you?” Jarot asked, staring down at his granddaughter.
“Yes,” Lanarot replied simply, reaching out a hand, and without missing a beat, the old man took it and allowed her to drag him away, for the girl was so vicious, and was certainly his greatdaughter’s aunt, for she had reached out to his wooden hand, and he surrendered imdiately.
As the small group made their way to the rchant’s ho, the small form of a boy shadowed behind them, but he stopped, for standing atop a building, shalwar whipping within the wind, an azure scaled half dragon, who was certainly a dragon, caught his gaze.
The boy disappeared into the shadow, and after a few monts, erged within the alley. The half dragon dropped down into the alley, arms crossed, the pair eting one another’s gaze.
“Do you know of the matter which occurred last night?” Bael asked.
“How can this lowly one know of such a-,” the boy replied, but Bael’s fist blurred through the air, and the child’s form, like paper, sifted around the arm, and landed but a hair’s breadth out of reach.
“You seem to have regained much of your skill,” Bael accused.
“I am honoured by your words,” the boy said.
“It seems, even in Aswadasad, there are those who do not fear the Iyr.”
“How can we not fear the Iyr?”
“…”
“I thank you for the ssage,” the boy said, bowing his head lightly. “There are many within this land who are like the half elf and the three demons.”
‘Three?’ Bael thought, but then his mind wandered towards the-,
A fist blurred through the air once more, and the boy was like paper once more, landing but a hair’s breadth out of reach once more.
“The next ti you try to slip away from my grasp, I will summon my lightning.”
“A thousand apologies,” the boy said.
PATREON FOR 30 CHAPTERS!
Bullying Bael feels good for the heart.
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