Chương 1755: [1652] – Y07.152 – A Fountain of Silver II

The scents permeated through the air, and as the large group gathered in front of the squat dome, the other merchants nearby peered with greedy gazes, for though the situation was peculiar, queer, the scent of silver washed away the murkiness within the air, and tainted their hearts with greater evil.

"I do not sell uthur, but the heart of uthur," Ghayth said, showing off to the child before him, bringing out a set of small wooden boxes, keenly aware of the eyes of the Mo and Ray upon him, and he was grateful the Iyrmen had stepped back, allowing the children, and the merchant, their space.

"So cool," Jirot whispered, peeking up towards her father, who was smirking so playfully towards her, the girl returning her own smirk, the pair smirking smirkly towards one another.

"Though I know the Mo possesses great wealth, I must warn the Mo, for the price of the uthur has increased a touch, each one tenth greater, due to the war."

"Only a tenth?"

"Uthur is not entirely affected by the war, but the price is the new tariff imposed by the royal family, to assist with the war against the Reavers." Jirot turned to look towards her mother, the pair smirking smirkly towards one another.

"How much was it again?"

"Previously, two silver for safe, three silver for gentle, five silver for strong, and double for the middle size, double once more for the large size, and now one tenth upon it."

"Even if I'm not that good with the numbers, adding a tenth is easy enough, and should I make a mistake, my Jirot will be able to fix it, for she is better than almost anyone I know."

"Almost?" Jirot replied, her tone full of incredulousness, and she was one of the few who could speak with such blatant respect towards a Father, for she was his daughter, and a child of the Iyr.

"Do you believe you are better than your uncle Churot?" Jirot stood a little taller, the girl glancing away.

"Uncle Churot is so good with numbers, too good." Ghayth smiled, revealing the various vials, placing them upon the counter to allow them all to sample his wares, offering plain pieces of cloth to assist in their testing.

"Any bottles my children touch, I will buy, sample or otherwise," Adam said, and before Ghayth could refuse politely, the half elf pointed to one of the bottles.

"Do you have any more of your family's recipe, and any jasmine, woody scents, and then other floral scents?"

"All you wish for, and more, Mo," Ghayth assured, taking out a few vials, wrapped with tiny cloths atop for the half elf, who sniffed the continued to smell a few samples, offering them to his children, who sniffed the uthur lightly, three tails swaying, before offering their mother to sniff the samples too.

"There are quite a few scents I enjoy, but what would be the best scent for someone who wants to go and beat up the Reavers?" Adam asked, peeking down at his daughter, who peeked up at her father's words, the pair exchanging a playful gaze between one another, though they were each stone faced.

"The good Mo is going to face the Reavers?" Ghayth asked.

"No, no, I'm not going to face the Reavers," Adam replied, holding up a fist, cracking his knuckles by tightening it.

"I am going to beat them up." Ghayth blinked, staring at the half elf, who seemed to be full of the youthful exuberance one might have expected, that young audacity that men his age possessed. A bead of sweat dropped, for the half elf had declared it before much of his family and companions.

"I have heard… that the Reavers are powerful. They have killed so many great warriors. It is said there are Reavers who are capable of facing the likes of Scholar Muh and Sayf adh Mashi'aya…" Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"They have killed a many great warriors, some who I know personally," Adam admitted, bowing his head, his smile faltering slightly.

"Mo, I know you possess a great heart, and great courage, but…"

"My family and I are taking a rather relaxing trip this year, but next year…" Adam's lips formed a wider smile, holding the merchant's gaze.

"We've had to stop my grandfather from killing so many of Aswadasad's great warriors, so we'll need to make it up to him to kill a great many Reavers." The old Iyrman, whose arm was wooden, flexing his crossed arms grinned wide, for he had heard the Aswadian word for grandfather, and his eyes narrowed as he caught his grandson's graze. His lips slowly formed a wide grin, the kind of grind which belonged upon a beast.

"He is your grandfather?" Ghayth asked, noting the Iyrman's tattoo, and then he turned towards the half elf, whose forehead was also tattooed, but not in the same way.

"Ahm, ahm, do not ask about my grandfather," Adam said, dismissing the merchant's concerns with a playful hand.

"If you knew who he was you would feel oppressed. I'm not sure if you have heard of him, but you certainly have heard of my granduncle, but do not ask me, ahm, for I do not wish for you to feel oppressed." Ghayth held the half elf's gaze, the braggart who spoke so easily and so openly of such dangerous words.

"My great grandfather is the strongest," Jirot said, smirking up towards the merchant.

"He beat up the-,""Jirot," Vonda called, holding the girl's chin, raising her brows as the pair held one another's gaze.

"Mummy, how ah canno' sho' off my grea' gran'fa'er?" Jirot replied, her eyes sparkling innocently towards her mother, even though she had never once defeated her mother.

"Your father does not wish for the great merchant to feel oppressed," Vonda replied, holding the girl's gaze, staring deeply into the girl's eyes.

"Is he the Butcher?" Ghayth asked with the hint of a smile upon his lips, for he was certain the old man was not, but perhaps he hadn't kept up, for the Butcher had retreated years ago, and perhaps the rumours of the Iyr's trouble with Aldland and Floria had caused him to lose an arm and leg? Adam's laughter filled the air, his lips forming an even wider grin, holding Ghayth's gaze.

"No, no, my grandfather… is not the Butcher." Ghayth held Adam's gaze, for he realised there was more to the statement, but the half elf winked playfully.

'He must be the Butcher…'

"Even if my great grandfather is not the Butcher, even the Butcher would find it difficult to beat my great grandfather, and even my great grandmothers are so strong, for one defeated the-," Jirot called out, and once more she was caught, feeling her mother's rough hands upon her cheeks, the girl blinking up towards her mother.

"Mummy, how you can oppresh me li'e this?'

"I can oppress you like this because I am your mother." Jirot flushed, for the girl was unable to defeat her mother, who was even more powerful than her father and great grandfather.

"I also need other uthur, though," Adam began, noting how Ghayth's nerves were aflame, trying to understand what was happening before him.

"I need one for a cousin of mine who is going to get married, at least, I hope she is, because I want to claim a fellow as my brother in law, for if my cousin, who is like a sister to me, marries such a dependable fellow, doesn't that mean he becomes my brother, and then his children will become my nephews, and such adorable nephews they are, and if they are my nephews, aren't they like my own sons?" Ghayth glanced between the Ray and the Mo. He blinked.

'He…'

"Ah, right, I need some for the birth of nieces and nephews too, for there will be quite a few who will be born soon," Adam continued, and then slowly turned his head to stare directly at a figure nearby.

"Also, I need one for a brother and sister of mine who should be getting married soon and who will give me many nieces and nephews for me to spoil too."

"It is inappropriate for you, as the Executive, to speak of such a way to your employees," Korin replied. Adam gasped, opening his mouth, unable to believe Korin would speak such words against him, even if they were true. Except, his eyes darted towards the one figure who would be able to help him in this situation, and that figure looked to Korin, who turned to look towards the other figure who could help him in this situation, causing the two great figures to glance between one another.

As the two held one another's gazes, a soft breath left the lips of the defeated one.

"Stop it, daddy," Jirot called, reaching up with a daggerlike finger, however it was curled, and her eyes returned back to Sara's, for this token response should be enough, for her heart was not within it.

'Kako, I will let you oppress me today, but when you are married, I will spoil all my beautiful cousins...' Sara could see it, within the girl's eyes, the same look Adam often held, the kind which held the promise of future mischief.

"Jirot, you are your father's daughter." Jirot gasped, her lips forming a tiny circle. She turned towards her mother.

"Mummy!"

"It is true," Vonda replied.

"Why did that offend you so much!" Adam cried, his lips forming a tiny circle.

"Kako said it in that way," Jirot accused.

"I did?" Sara replied.

"Mummy! You can oppress me because you are my mummy, but how can kako oppress me?"

"Kako can oppress you because she is your beautiful kako?" Vonda joked.

"Ah!" Jirot slapped her forehead.

"Of coas."

"Of course," came the echo of all those around.