Chương 515: 484. Nightval Festival VI

Omen: 9, 18 Strom flew Lanarot around the blocks of the Iyr's shared estates, before dropping down into a pile of snow, which burst upwards and around them. The tiny girl clapped excitedly and squealed with joy as he played with her, almost wetting herself from the sheer joy of their play.

'It's not fair,' Adam thought.

'He's allowed to go up higher than me, but isn't she my sister? Why can't I fly her around everywhere? This is bullying!' Lanarot was panting for air, tired from the laughter. Strom tickled her nose, before picking her up, patting her back gently.

"Did you have lots of fun?" Lanarot replied affirmatively with her babbling, continuing to pant still. Strom smiled, and placed her down, ruffling her hair through her hat.

"You can go now, little one. Have fun with your papa." Lanarot rushed up to Adam, almost tripping over, grabbing onto his leg.

"Papa."

"Your other papa," Strom said, waving his hand, levitating her away towards Jurot. Lanarot gasped as she floated through the air, before she landed beside Jurot, who she hugged quickly.

"Ooh!" she gasped, tapping the snow with her foot, before climbing up Jurot's lap to hug him close.

'He keeps bullying me! This isn't fair!' Adam frowned.

"Adam," Strom called, holding out a gourd full of wine.

"Come." The old man trekked through the snow, away from the shared family estate. No Iyrman was assigned to escort him, but he was still allowed to freely travel through the Iyr. He found a cabin to one side. An Iyrman who had been tailing him, out of earshot, as had been requested by the old man, cleared the area of any other Iyrman nearby, and kept an eye out for them. Strom poured some wine into Adam's cup, his hand shaking slightly, before filling his own.

He sipped the wine, peach, just as the Rot family preferred. Adam sipped his cup too, waiting for Strom to speak.

"I will be dying soon," Strom said. The words weighed heavily on Adam. He had known the old man was dying, and it had been well over a year since they had met before, but it had flown by so quickly. He had thought about it a few times recently too, and every time he forced the thoughts away.

"Dragon Fall. That is the affliction which has taken me. It is something which enters the hearts of Dragons, and takes root over centuries. It's something I had felt many years ago, and it was something that I didn't fight. I thought I had found the perfect time to retire, to pass on my throne, so that I could fight with my friend one last time, but…" Strom sipped the rest of his wine and sighed.

"She had other plans, that bitch. I still can't believe she left without telling me…" Adam remained silent, allowing the old man to reminisce.

"We Dragons can live long, but the world will not allow us to live peacefully. Many of our kin are killed before they turn a thousand, and those who live beyond such years, they will experience all manner of maladies. Dragon Fall, or the Iyr's blade." He laughed at his own joke, coughing into his elbow. He winced, feeling the tingle of where his arm had been sliced.

"Even if I tried to delay it, I would have succumbed to it eventually. One hundred years? A thousand years? It doesn't matter." Adam frowned. The old man had lived for thousands of years, that was for sure, but most of them had been after his daughter had died. Adam thought about it, how he could have lived after one of his own children died. What a nightmare it would be, to live beyond your children.

"I'm sorry." The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Strom smiled.

"The Iyr will undergo a great change, soon."

"Because of you?" Strom nodded.

"My death shall be the catalyst of change," the old man said, his tone serious for once.

"Old shadows, which had once slumbered away from the rays of the sun, will begin to rise again. No doubt a few of them have already begun to rise, and my actions have only accelerated that process. After that rat bastard was killed, there's one less Champion to deal with the threats."

'The Champion of Order?' Adam thought.

'At least I'm a little safer, though.'

"There are only a few of us from back then," Strom said, pouring another cup of wine, his hand shaking slightly still.

"You know, when you're as strong as me, you can't be friends with other old monsters. Still, I had those I could call my friends. We spent a lot of our youth together, and we promised to look after one another." The old man poured Adam some more wine, deciding to take his time with his tale.

"When the Demons came, I appeared late to this Realm. I had to give up a hundred islands to get that greedy bastard to come and help, but by the time we dealt with the Demons which had attacked our Realm and had come down, the Iyr had forced them away. Of course they did! What a bunch of crazy bastards!" Strom laughed, almost like a hyena, though it became a coughing fit once more.

"I don't like the fact that they follow that Death bastard, but… I suppose he's the best of them." Strom shook his head. He could feel the gaze of the God across him even now, and it made the wine taste every so slightly worse.

"After what happened, we decided to form a triumvirate. Air. Land. Sea. We were the masters of each of those domains. Of course, we had our own dealings within our own Realms, but we were close." Adam wasn't sure if Strom was being vague on purpose, but realised how dangerous it was to ask for more specifics.

"She, who once ruled the seas, passed. It wasn't long ago, and it remained a secret until last year. Now, it's my turn. Two of the three who have been tasked with protecting the Realms, have passed. I'm leaving second, and I can't help but think my friend will be lonely. I'm leaving her with such a mess." Strom's smile twitched wider at his words.

"When I die, Chaos will seep into this world." Strom's eyes rose to meet Adam's, forcing Adam to stare at him with his overwhelming presence.

"You are too weak." The words slammed into Adam like a hammer, and the Half Elf felt his sweat pour through him freely.

"One day, you'll be strong. That sister of yours, Lanarot, trained by you and your brother, she'll definitely grow stronger. Perhaps, in a century or so, one of you two will take the mantle I've left behind." Adam wondered if the threats that Strom was mentioning was that thing.

'If he's one of the three big keys in keeping the world safe…'

"Just how strong were you?" Strom smiled.

"I wish your children the best of health, Adam. May their days be full of joy and glory, and their nights full of slumber in blood." Adam slowly nodded his head, though he wasn't sure their nights should be full of slumber in blood, since that would no doubt lead to a number of diseases.

"Will you tell Lanarot about me when I'm gone?"

"I will," Adam promised.

"Will you give her my thanks?"

"For what?"

"For the joy she brought this dying old man with her smile," Strom said, smiling sadly.

"I will." Strom bowed his head, leaving Adam perhaps one of the most important tasks. It was important to his heart, but perhaps not his mind.

"Don't die too quickly, old man, you still owe me." Strom smirked wide.

"Whatever debts I owe you, I have paid to your family."

"My family?" Adam asked.

"I have paid my debts to them, the family that you call yours," Strom repeated, equally as annoying as last time.

"Well… it's not like we get along that well."

"Don't worry, Adam," Strom said, patting the Half Elf's shoulder.

"They will get into the right hands, since I was promised." Adam bowed his head, patting Strom's back too.

"Alright! Let's get wasted today and have a nice time. I'll tell you some more stories of my home." Strom smiled. It was the last day of the festival, but he was glad that Adam would spend it with him.

"Adam, will you promise me something?" Adam, who was slightly tipsy, nodded his head. Strom smiled, and continued to pile drinks into Adam, who grew drunker with each passing moment. Strom thought back to the last time he could do such a thing. Adam was not a friend, not like those friends of his from days of old, but he was a good child. He was more like a favoured grandson, though he was too young to be one of Strom's grandchildren.

'Perhaps in another life we could have been close friends,' Strom thought.

'Ah, although, perhaps that other life has already come to pass?' The days of his youth passed by his mind, and he looked down to Adam.

'I wonder if it's true.'