Chương 1401: [1314] - Y06.214 - Golden Tongues IV

"He promised to gift me the sun and the stars, the sky and the seas, and to dance with me across fields of silver and gold," Anastasha gushed, swaying gently from side to side, her arms swaying like ripples in a lake, recalling the dance of that evening. Adam wasn't sure which was more impressive, the grace in which the woman moved, or the stone face of the Amira, who had to hear all the sappy nonsense her father had said in order to win over her mother's heart.

'Bury the cringe deep within your heart, you punk, since this all led to you being born!' Adam thought, but even he could barely handle the second wave cringe which bounced off the Amira, only kept at bay because of how much joy the Malika spoke with.

"If the future Shen was going to promise me the world, to speak to my heart, how could I refuse?" Anastasha said, her eyes filled with such a deep adoration, and though her eyes were directed towards the half elf, he saw she was looking to another time, another place, another face.

"I'm sure being the Shen and having mountains of wealth helped to make such a decision," Adam stated bluntly, his lips twitching slightly.

"It did not hurt," Anastasha confirmed, before taking her daughter's hand within her own once more, the brushing her daughter's knuckles tenderly.

"I was sick then, only lightly, but after a few years, I grew sicker, and now I am but half the woman I once was."

"We can agree to disagree on that, because I think you're twice the woman you used to be," the half elf said, sipping on his tea, his heart already full of the dessert.

"I am barely able to fulfil the duties of a Malika, a wife, and a mother," Anastasha admitted, her voice heavy with guilt.

"That is not true," the pair replied, both the fool of a half elf, and the young woman, whose eyes darted curiously towards the half elf. Adam motioned a hand, allowing the Amira to speak first. However, the Amira just held her mother's hand, an annoyance within her eyes, that which was birthed from love.

"See," the half elf said, motioning towards the Amira.

"I don't know what a Malika does, but if the Shen has hurried to the battlefield, I'm sure he's filled with the want to return, and as much as a father would want to return for his daughter, a husband wants to return for his wife, and trust me, I would know a little bit about both of those."

"You speak of your wife almost in the way that I speak of my husband, so I will consider your words."

"We can agree to disagree on the word almost," the half elf replied, sipping more of his tea, his eyes glazed over with thoughts of his wife.

"Have you brought enough gifts for your wife and children?"

"There is no such thing as enough gifts for my wife and children, but I'm sure if you asked my companions, they would say I have brought too many gifts. Can you imagine that? Too many gifts! How could they say such words?" Adam huffed, grumbling quietly to himself, for truly, how could they say such words?

"What gifts have you brought for your wife?"

"When it comes to my darling wife, well, I mean, I did the typical thing of buying a bunch of silver and gold, jewellery and so on, but she really wanted me to buy some special paper, she likes to draw and paint, and she likes a specific kind of paper so I bought a bunch of books with that. I bought some material to make some clothing, some scarves, some, a lot of other stuff like that, I also bought…" Adam tilted his head, trying to recall what else he had bought.

"I suppose, technically, buying stuff for our children also makes her happy, so everything I bought them too, but most importantly, I will tell her that I killed no one during our journey, no matter how many times they asked to die."

"How many people have you let live thus far?" Adam let out a soft sigh.

"Well, a couple of the Orders we passed by were asking for death, with how they treated my friends and family, but… other than engraving within their hearts a healthy dose of fear for this Crazy Father, I let them go, and I even offered them wonderful magical weapons as a gift, speaking of which, I have been rather rude and haven't offered you a magical weapon, or if you would prefer, a magical item that could assist?" Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"What magical item would I require?"

"I don't know. I mean, one of my favourite tricks is the one so aptly called Tricks, but there are others which are extremely useful! Guidance, right? There's the Floralcraft, I know you like poppies, so you can make them bloom as you please, and then there's Mage Hand, Thaumaturgy, just in case some of your guards aren't listening to you, you can make sure they do when your word booms through the temple, and then they've got no choice but to listen."

The half elf made a large number of assumptions, only to realise just how little they could refuse the Malika, save for a few certain matters, which he had broken through by speaking of the violence within the outside world.

"There's also Mending, Light too, which is always helpful, although… now that I think about it… I'm not sure we could enchant all of those, or most of those? Tricks and Guidance, for sure. Stabilise! That could be useful too!"

"If I could request for such a gift to ease my heart, it would certainly include such tricks," the woman admitted. Adam reached into his journal to write down the notes.

"Stabilise. Guidance. Tricks." The Malika noted Adam continued writing a few more thoughts, before slipping the journal back into his inner pocket, the half elf smiling innocently, though it was filled with the sad smile she had become accustomed to.

"Do you wish to ask?" Anastasha asked.

"Ask what?"

"You know?"

"You are vastly overestimating how smart I am," the half elf replied earnestly.

"What plagues me."

"Oh! Yes, if it's not an issue?"

"I was born with a weak body," the woman replied.

"Two weeks too early."

"Oh," the half elf replied, slowly nodding his head.

"Merry, uh, Nobby's son, he's the one who fought the Reaver and then I killed it, his son, Merry, he was born early too. He was so eager to live, and so eager to share his father's birthday, that he decided to make his debut to the world. It was rather rude of him, because I made a really funny joke, and I thought it was my funny joke that caused it to happen."

"What was the joke?" Anastasha asked.

"I'd like to know too, because apparently it was so funny I almost made a child appear a month too early!" the half elf replied, slapping his knee.

"Do you know how many good jokes I make each year? They can be counted upon one hand! Do you know how many jokes I make each day? They can be counted upon both hands!" The storm known as Adam brought much life to the temple, where once only the Crimson Blade and the Radiant Blade had kept the woman company, speaking of their countless tales, every so often. The Malika's beaming smile radiated a warmth through the temple, until finally, they could feel their time come to an end.

"In the future, would you be willing to return to speak of your tales to me, and the tales of the world?"

"Sure, but instead of me, it should be my daughter, who knows a thousand and one tales, about Iyrmen from every age, and of course, she knows her greatparents' tales, as well as the tales of a fool of a father, who only wants to spoil her."

"I hope you will bring her to Aswadasad, so that she may heal within our gardens, and so that I may hear the tales from her, this daughter of yours, who bullies you so deeply." The half elf smiled, bowing his head.

"I'll do my best, though… she might be a little hesitant to leave."

"I understand," the Malika replied, smiling warmly. Bael picked up the sleepy form of Kizwolima, who waved goodbye to the royals, and though there were certain protocols, no one had asked for them, not in front of these particular figures.

"I hope we can speak once more," Crimson Blade said, reaching out to shake Chosen's forearm.

"I hope so too."

"Before you leave," Zahid began, clearing his throat.

"Between myself and Bloodblade, who do you think…"

"Since I am his grandnephew, I must say him, but I cannot guarantee it," Chosen admitted. Kal Zahid bowed his head, flashing a warm smile, watching as the Iyrmen left. Tanagek bowed towards the Radiant Blade, who returned a bow of her own head, for though the pair had not spoken, Tanagek was glad to have at least greeted her with his eyes, and she was glad to have met the young man, whose great great grandfather had also left an impression within her heart.

"I did not expect the Malika to be someone you favoured," Dunes admitted as they stepped out from the temple, the Black Lion accompanying them, his ears twitching eagerly.

"The Malika isn't someone I favour," the half elf replied.

"She is not?"

"Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"When she was wheeled in, the Amira made a face. It was only for a moment, but I had seen it, before I had seen the Malika. In that moment, I saw a look of sheer terror, and in that moment, I was the closest to death I had ever come, maybe even greater than when I saw that mountain of a blade swallow my vision whole. Then, I saw her hold her daughter's hand so tenderly, I heard her speak of her husband so sweetly. I don't favour the Malika, but I suppose for a mother, a wife, who is adored so much?

I suppose, I guess I can show a little favour." Dunes noted the look upon the half elf's face, so full of sadness. Then, for a moment, the half elf tensed up, pain filling his eyes, but it quickly slipped away.

'What was that?'