Chương 1705: [1602] – Y07.102 – A New Moon Rises II

The woman stood tall and proud within her armour, the steel slipped across her like a second skin, tinged with silver, and purple under the evening stars. She was, like all those around, utterly stunning, her skin even darker than most, like obsidian, eyes like the stars, silver speckled gold, not like the Divine, but one may suggest. The curved blade at her side was forged of fine steel, the kind which shimmered with magical might.

"So it is said," the woman replied, holding the Iyrman's gaze. Were there many Iyrmen who would dare to shame themselves by wearing such magical prosthetics, to deny their story so brazenly? It was a fool who would dare to do so, though as she considered those around themselves, perhaps the fool had given up his pride for the sake of the children here? Her eyes slipped across his tattoo, so familiar were they, for they belonged to particular young Iyrmen she had met the previous year.

"You must be one named Rot?" The old man's wild grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling, and as he stretched out his neck, as though their bout was already confirmed, his entire body cracked.

"I am Jarot."

'Giaro-,' the Full Moon had begun to think, only for her entire body to tense, then relax, and though she had half drawn her sabre by the time she had managed to return to the present, she found the Iyrman had also tensed up, though was kept at bay by a single hand. She had almost drawn her blade for her mind had recalled the name, and the intense pressure he exuded towards her had made her react within the instant, but as the old man remained still, she did not draw her sabre any further.

The amber eyes remained intently focused upon her greatfather, with a glare in her eyes, her hand held high to stop her babo from acting out. Her eyes remained completely focused on the old fool who dared to draw his blade in front of she, who called him the strongest, and yet even she knew that did not include herself in such estimations.

"Babo, I do not remember giving you permission to act up?" Jirot said in their tongue, causing one of the Moons to clear her throat, the woman closing her eyes, she who did not wear any armour, the one who was considered similar to those of the Ools, and due to her title of greater than a Grandmaster, though she was perhaps the weakest of the Moons, could understand the tongue of the Iyr.

"I must teach them a lesson," Jarot replied, holding his greatdaughter's gaze.

"If they do not learn, they will trouble your father in the future." Jirot closed her eyes, considering her greatfather's words, and slowly her eyes trailed towards her grandmother, noting the way the woman was beaming towards her with a smile. The girl's eyes closed once more, and in this moment she understood just how much she missed her mother, who was but a hundred steps away.

'Mother, you must return quickly.'

"Hmm…" hummed a particular figure, the figure who found it most difficult to speak up at this time. He continued to hum in such a manner for a short while, until a gentle hand pressed against the back of his. The half elf opened his eye and peeked down towards his daughter. He leaned in to whisper into her ear.

"Dear, I wanted to fight the Moons."

"Daddy! You cannot!"

"I was going to be nice."

"Daddy, how can it be nice?"

"I am nicer to fight than your babo." The girl blinked, reaching up to cover her face with a palm, the girl shooting a look away from her father.

"Oh my gosh. It is eating my head that you decide to be so wise now. Daddy, how can you do this?"

"Since your mother is not here, I must behave well, for the sake of Ritetu's Will." Jirot huffed, turning away from her father once more, and though her face was full of annoyance, as she blinked and held her grandmother's gaze, the girl seemed utterly bewildered by her father's words.

'Nana, you must help me…' This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Sonarot could see the thoughts upon her granddaughter's face, but as her eyes trailed to her twin brother, who was eyeing up his greatfather expectantly, the very same he was named after, even if Jirot was hard to defeat, it was little Jarot, who was so sweet and innocent in such a cruel world, who defeated her with ease.

"If we do not let the old fool fight now, he will cause trouble in the future," Gangak said in the Aldish tongue, letting out a soft sigh.

"Mmm," Otkan confirmed.

"I married him for a reason," Mulrot added.

"Uncle is uncle," Fakrot stated with finality.

"Do you think you can bully me in front of my greatdaughter?" the old Jarot asked, only to look down at his greatdaughter, who looked away from him, holding her father's collar, and as the girl peeked over her shoulder to see him still looking at him, she returned back to staring up at her father.

"Daddy, you have let babo fight this time, okay?"

"I wanted to fight each of them to show off to you," Adam whispered into his daughter's ear, planting a kiss on her cheek. The girl flushed slightly, burying her head into her father's neck.

"Daddy, if you do not let babo fight, he will kill so many, and mummy will be sad."

"Why are you acting like your greatfather is a beast?"

"I am a beast," Jarot replied, half offended his grandson would suggest otherwise.

'Oh yeah,' Adam thought.

"You have to tell babo he isn't allowed to kill."

"Babo is a beast, but he is not stupid," Jirot replied, the girl rubbing her father's cheek tenderly.

"Babo does not have the courage to kill in front of me without permission."

"You can't say things like that!"

"If daddy can be wise, I can be brutal!"

"You! You punk!"

"You! You silly daddy!" The Full Moon eyed up the half elf who had so easily defeated her in the previous year, recalling how terrifying his might had been, though he did not seem to wield the same axe. This fool, was he still the same half elf she remembered?

"Since my greatdaughter has asked me to not kill, I will not kill," Jarot said, and suddenly the Iyrmen, each of whom were paying keen attention to him, relaxed.

"Babo, you cannot take their limbs either." Jarot remained silent for a long moment.

"Why are you so wise?"

"She is so wise because she is my daughter," came the response as the woman returned to lift up her children one by one, until finally settling to one side with little Lanarot, whose brows remained raised in surprise, but she beamed.

"Ah. Of course."

"Of coas," came the response of many, causing little Jirot to flush, the girl hiding within her father's chest once more. Jarot stood opposite the Full Moon, who continued to hold him within her sights. She had not yet dropped her guard, which caused the old Mad Dog to smirk wide, and as the group gathered around them, the two finally drew their weapons, one sabre, the other an axe and shield.

"I will bet-," Adam began, only to find a finger upon his cheek, and a pair of amber eyes glaring right upon his cheek, her breath tickling his cheek.

"How much you wish to bet?" Jirot asked.

"I was going to bet a hundred gold."

"I will bet one hundred gold too," Jirot said, stroking his cheek.

"One hundred gold," little Jarot said.

"You should bet two hundred since we share the same name," the old Jarot called.

"Two hundred gold," little Jarot said.

"This is too much! You cannot oppress the Order of Five Moons this much!" the half elf declared, even with his daughter's finger against his cheek, the girl pulling it away as he continued, side eyeing her father once more, for her mother had returned, and yet his wisdom did not leave.

"We will bet a hundred gold total, okay? Ten from each of the children, so that's fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty, and then ten from this father, and ten from your papo!"

"You have grown up, daddy," Jirot whispered against his leaf shaped ear, the girl nestling her head against his neck.

"I only pretend I am a fool most of the time," the half elf replied.

"Most of the time."

"Most of the time?" Jirot asked, since he repeated, and even when he spoke it, she wasn't sure if she believed it either.

"…"

"…"

"Should I bet too?" the old Jarot called, grinning wildly against the woman.

"Will you be able to defeat me?"

"What do you wish to bet?"

"Your blade for my axe?"

"My blade is too precious," the woman stated simply.

"This axe of mine is precious, too."

"I will grant you a favour if you so wish."

"A favour of the Five Moons for a favour of the Rot?" The woman remained silent for a long moment, half thinking to call out to Mother Crescent, but she bowed her head.

"Very well."

"Amalrot, though you are tired, you must watch well, upon this grandfather of yours," the old man said, grinning wildly like beast once more, and as the woman glanced his way, the old man tensed up, and suddenly the two wills collided. Jirot's lips formed a pout. She was certain, without a shadow of a doubt, her greatfather would win if he stepped forward, but the magical steel which glimmered under the moon, distracting her amber eyes, blurred through the air first.

'Babo!'