Chương 534: Interlude: The Last Night

The stars twinkled in the Iyr's sky, but they were nothing compared to the gems which were offered to the old, white scaled man. He, who appeared to be a Drakken, but was undoubtedly a Dragon. The snow falling across the Front Iyr all but confirmed that fact. He was offered not just a myriad of gems, but also three blades, each holding a Basic enchantment, and each forged with great craftsmanship.

'They're no Dwarven blades, but they'll do,' the old man thought. He could smell the scent against them, each enchanted by a different Iyrman, one who was long passed, but none were of that boy.

"I have noticed that the Iyr has made plenty of magical weapons this year, though I see that none of those gifted to me were of his."

"We apologise if they are not to your liking," Elder Lykan said, smiling politely.

"However, it is always good to be cautious." The words hung in the air like a threat, but the old man let it go.

"Thank you for the gems and the weapons, but they were not a part of the deal."

"Consider it our good will," Lykan said.

"Our deal was fair, but the Iyr does not forget those who have shown her favour, nor those who have dared to tread lightly."

'If they're speaking poetically…' He accepted the second threat, knowing that it did not come from him, but higher up. It was a warning to him, one of the two Lords who remained behind in the Iyr. Stokmar, too, remained within the Iyr, drinking the barrels of ale the Iyrmen had prepared for her. They had been dug up from the earth, having brewed over the course of centuries, just in case.

'Just how much have you prepared?'

"You're thinking too much," the Lord of Earth said, having slid her way towards him, forcing the snow aside.

"What is it that you're thinking about, Grimraith?"

"If you're going to ask me a question, you should at least offer me a drink," Grimraith replied, his arms crossed behind his back. He had no need to defend against the Lord of Earth, the pair had barely crossed paths before, though he still needed to press for proper respect. Stokmar clicked through her teeth before tossing him a gourd of wine, which the old man snatched out of the air, before he sipped it. It was a fruit wine, one freshly made within the Iyr.

"I was thinking about nothing important," he admitted, but he knew that Stokmar would have been annoyed with such an answer.

"Has there ever been a time when so many of us met in one go? Those of us who could command the title of Lord, and even her, she who rules the Iyr and can stand against us by herself. Has there been a time when five of us have met together? There was a sixth, too, I could suppose." Elder Story, Hadda, Lord Stokmar, Shama, Asa, and Grimraith. Any one of them could have wreaked havoc upon the land by their lonesome, but to think they had all come here, in the land of the Iyrmen, all at one time.

"It doesn't feel good to have only you as company," Stokmar admitted.

"At least that boy, Hadda, was a decent enough drinking companion."

'Asa still remains not far from here, but he won't dare to come to the Iyr's lands, not while I and Lord Stokmar remain,' Grimraith thought. He, who could claim the title of Lord of Ice, could clash with the old man and force him away, especially since he had made the Iyr into his lair, like the other Dragons. The process had been hurried along by the strange magics of the Iyr, but that had done little to dampen the effects of their presence.

Though, his own presence overwhelmed the other pair, who wouldn't dare to match him. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Why are you keeping your thoughts to yourself?" Stokmar tossed a barrel at him, but it slid across the snow beside him.

"I remember this place as a rock with only a bunch of savages who killed one another to send to the afterlife," the old man said.

"Now they are a terrifying force, who keep secrets between one another too, with creatures who should not exist in this world." His thoughts fell to the creatures, who looked like Iyrmen and yet reeked of death, all of whom kept an eye on the pair. There were five of them total, but they were only the strongest of the Iyrmen who had been sent to keep an eye on them, for there were another twenty Paragons who had been ordered to escort them through the Iyr whenever they needed it.

"They made themselves like this in only a few generations," Stokmar said.

"They were already a great force by the time I decided to mess around in this land. They cut it short, but it wasn't so bad. There's quite a few of them who were decent, and then there was that Aswadian boy, he wasn't too bad either." Grimraith kept up with only the main events of what had occurred over the past two millennia, only keeping tabs once every century or so.

He paid special attention when anything mentioned his family, and then any of the legendary figures which had still existed from back then, though many had gone quiet. He wondered if they were hiding away, as he had when the Demons had invaded the land.

"Why didn't you step up during the time of the Demons?" Grimraith asked.

"It was too annoying, and they didn't do anything to the good Dwarven folk," she replied, simply.

"I thought about coming up to help the Iyrmen, but…" Of all the lands which had been affected by such an event, it was the Iyr which had made out like bandits. They had lost many of their warriors, but they had recovered swiftly, and no doubt their treasury had grown at least twofold. However, even then, they hadn't called in as many favours as they had done so in the previous year. The Giants, the Dragons, and the two Lords, such a force would have laid waste to even the capital of Aldland.

Only one of the Lords would need to keep that old woman at bay, and the rest could have their way to slaughter tens of thousands freely. Grimraith's eyes wandered to Lord Stokmar. She, who had been born from the Salt Mother and the Earth Father, was perhaps the greatest of all the Lords. She was perhaps the only one who could make a mess within the Iyr and flee with her life, though she'd find the rest of her life difficult since the Iyr would want to hunt her until Baktu stepped off his throne.

"What?" Stokmar asked. Grimraith sighed.

"How long do you think the war will last?"

"The war in the Upper Realm, or here?"

"Here."

"A year, maybe two."

"Who will win?"

"Neither." Grimraith nodded.

"I wonder why Soza has never-," She was older than time, her face wrinkles like ripples within a lake. She wore thick clothing, black as the starless sky, and wore a medallion which was made of a black wood, shaped in the symbol of Baktu, the God of Death. She wielded a staff made of the same wood as her medallion too, but that was not the most notable thing about her. Her tattoos were small, hollow circles, also a deep black.

They were notable because an Iyrman's tattoos were usually filled or hollow, and the central shape was usually the largest. However, her tattoos were all uniform, and were smaller than any other Iyrman's. The central circle held the symbol of Baktu too. She stepped up to approach the pair of Lords, smiling warmly, like a grandmother would. Yet, the pair of Lords both straightened up.

It wasn't that she possessed greater strength than either of them, and though she had the back of up of four others like her, the stench of death clung to her deeply. Baktu had no Champions, but if he had, these five would have been good enough to claim themselves as his.

"It is my honour to be with you," the old Iyrman said, bowing her head.

"I have come to thank you for your assistance."

"The Iyr has thanked me enough," Grimraith said, with Stokmar nodding to agree.

"If there comes a time to fight, I hope it will be side by side," the old Iyrman said, glancing between the pair. She had hoped to speak with them, but seeing the way they looked at her, she bowed her head and retreated. She couldn't blame them, for their senses were greater than a typical person's, and she was an abomination, one made for the Iyr, but an abomination none the less.

'I cannot even speak with one of my own.' Stokmar and Grimraith relaxed together for some time, both thinking about the upcoming year. Stokmar understood why Grimraith was thinking about the meeting of all the great powers, for there was no way that they could meet like this without the world reacting. Then, there was that young man. That young man who called for Chaos no matter where he was.

That young man, who had just become a father, and yet held the powers which, as Hadda had warned the Lords, had the potential to destroy the world.