English Novel
[914] – Y04.014 – Trouble on the Road I
[914] – Y04.014 – Trouble on the Road I
“Where does the wind flow?” the older one armed, one legged Iyrman sang lightly, holding the twins within his chest.
“Thoo my home!” the twins called out, the sister louder than the brother.
“Brisk.”
“Cold!”
“Where do the hills flow?”
“Along the huhrizon!”
“Tall.”
“Wide!”
“I call it my home.”
“I call it my home!”
“Where the wind flows. Where the hills flow.”
“Brisk! Cold! Tall! Wide!”
“I call it my home.”
“I call it my home!”
“The path outside is treacherous,” the old man said, brushing his cheek against theirs.
“Buhrootal! Buhloody!”
“Where do we march?”
“To war! To war!”
“What are we?”
“Ready!”
“For.”
“Death!”
“To whom does death call?”
“To all! To all!”
“I walk the treacherous path.”
“Buhrootal! Buhloody!”
“I am ready to be called!”
“Death! Death! Call to me!”
“Brisk.”
“Cold!”
“I call it my home.”
“I call it my home!”
“Tall.”
“Wide!”
“I call it my home.”
“I call it my home!”
“Brutal.”
“Buhloody!”
“To war.”
“To war!”
“Death.”
“Death!”
“I call it my home.”
“I call it my home!”
“Death.”
“Death!”
“I call it my home.”
“I call it my home!”
Jirot cackled at the end of the song, clapping her hands excitedly. “Again! Again!”
The older Jarot smiled, kissing her forehead. “Should I teach you another song?”
“Okay!”
“Which would you like to…” The older Iyrman glanced aside towards the approaching figure, carrying a blade at their side. “Your greatfather must go walk.”
“I wohking too.”
“Shall I take you to nano Gangak?”
The girl blinked. “Nano?”
“Do you wish to go?”
“I go see nano!” Jirot declared, hugging her greatfather’s muscular neck while he lifted the pair up.
The approaching Iyrman waited, his eyes following the Mad Dog as he limped from the extended family estate toward the nearby Gak family estates. The arrival of the triplets to his own estate had already been awkward enough, but now to follow the twins to the extended family estate.
“Babo, look! Is Gek!” Jirot said, pointing behind them to the old man who followed them.
“Yes.”
“Is baba’s papo?”
“Yes,” the older Jarot assured, limping away with his metal leg.
“Is not my babo, is babo’s papo.”
“…” Jarot glanced aside awkwardly, feeling the rage begin to simmer within him. ‘Should I beat the love into him?’ The old man sighed, recalling how pathetic his last showing was.
Once Gangak stole away the twins, much to the old man’s annoyance, he glared towards the Iyrman who had come to speak with him, and marched out with him.
“Speak quickly!” Jarot snarled, not facing the old man.
“I wish to speak of Jurot.”
“What of my Jurot?”
“There is a matter to discuss.”
“Hmph. What matters do I have to speak with you of my grandson?”
“He still holds the stories of the Gek family, and so must his child.”
“Whichever stories he wishes to speak to his child, they are his matters.”
“Will he not at least speak of his uncle’s stories?”
“He will speak of his mother’s tales. He will speak of his uncle’s tales. He will speak of his grandmother’s tales. He will speak of his grandfather’s tales.” Jarot’s eyes snapped towards the other older Iyrman before him, adorned in his Iyrman attire, his family’s weapon, a blade, at his side. “What need of he to speak of other tales? Are they worthy of his children or his nieces and nephews.”
“Tanagek is working hard in the north.”
Jarot’s lips formed a wide smile. “Tanagek’s tales are good, but will they inspire my greatchildren, whose fathers have inherited my wildness?”
“He is still young.”
“Tanagek has done well, but he has no children to fight for.”
“Tanagek fights for the Iyr.”
Jarot cackled before falling into bellowing laughter. “Yes. So he does.”
The rain began to fall against the Iyr, the gentle rains of dawnval. The gentle rains provided a melody for the old man, who continued to teach his greatchildren the songs of the Iyr, which they would inherit, whether it was the Iyr’s wishes or not.
The gentle rains accompanied Adam and his companions along their journey. They passed through the forest with surprising ease, before heading to the town of Deadwood. Adam spent some of his newly earned coin within the town, buying all manner of gifts. Though Jurot and Kitool remained beside the Prince to escort him, Adam did not offer the Countess of Deadwood the same privilege of ordering magical weapons from them.
They continued along their way through the nearby hills, passing through the three forts on the way to Hill Grave lightening their pouches. Due to Ray Vonda’s presence, the forts did little to bother the group, though they kept an eye on the figures who had been confirmed to be demons.
‘If you think I’m going to spend coin in Hill Grave, you better think twice!’ Adam huffed, annoyed by how many coins the fees had cost them. ‘I thought the war was over!’
From the hill town of Hill Grave, they passed down towards the plains Central Aldland was familiar with. They passed through several forts once more, and with every passing day they approached East Aldland, where Vonda’s influence grew and grew.
“Jurot…” Adam said over dinner one particular evening.
“Yes,” Jurot replied. He, like the others, understood why Adam’s voice was full of such apprehension.
So far, they had come across little trouble.
A group of knights upon horseback led a set of carriages, moving only a step quicker than those of a typical traveller. Their banner was that of the left half of a circle upon black.
“A noble?” Morkarai asked.
“Westmoons,” Kitool confirmed.
“Where are they about?” Adam asked.
“West Port.”
“The family is well known for slaying goblins,” Jaygak added.
“…” Adam threw a look towards her, but noted how her eyes were firmly glued to the approaching carriage.
“Brigands?” the knight whispered to his companion.
“Adventurers by the look of it.”
“Am I wrong?”
The knights chuckled lightly, before riding up. ““Make way! Make way! The noble Westmoon family is riding! Make way!”
Morkarai took off his helmet, revealing his charcoal skin, his fiery red hair and beard. “I am Prince Morkarai, from the volcanoes of Shakador!” The booming voice vibrated through even the horses of the knights, who pulled the reins.
“Prince Morkarai?” a knight whispered. “Whose that?”
“The fire giants from the east,” the other replied, motioning with a hand towards the carriage.
“It may be a trick.”
“It would be a good illusion, but the details on the flamedarksteel…”
The carriages stopped, and the servants from the middle carriage swiftly approached the front carriage to allow the noble lord to step out. He was a man with few wrinkles across his face, though his light hair, an extremely dirty blonde, or a sun kissed brunette, was sprinkled with white. He was adorned in full plate, that which was afforded to him due to the mass murder and pillaging which allowed him to claim the civilized title of a noble fellow.
“Count Westmoon,” Jaygak whispered.
“Prince Morkarai of Shakador, I am Count Joseph Westmoon of West Fort,” the noble called out, his face stern and humourless. “I had heard rumours of your travels within the land.”
“I travelled for some time, but it is time for me to return home,” Prince Morkarai stated, shutting down the eventual request to be hosted.
“It is a shame you were not able to admire the maleficence of the greatest fort in all the nearby lands, but perhaps in the future you could visit the city.”
“I will take your words to heart.”
“Would you care to speak over dinner?”
“I would enjoy the company,” Morkarai stated.
The servants swiftly dealt with the tents and the food, all the while the Prince, the Count, and the Ray spoke. Jurot and Kitool remained nearby, standing at attention, while Adam and Jaygak remained at one side.
“There’s got to be some trouble,” Adam whispered in the Iyr’s tongue. “It’s all going far too smoothly.”
“The Count may trouble Lucy and Mara, but Ray Vonda should be able to defend them.”
“Yeah.” Adam inhaled sharply. ‘It should be fine since Vonda’s around.’ “Isn’t my wife the best?”
Jaygak smiled, doing her best not to roll her eyes.
Thankfully, the Count didn’t make a fuss about the demons, instead chatting and drinking with the Prince, before allowing him to be on his way, handing over a bottle of wine as a gift, and a promise to host the Prince in the future.
“Well that was easy…” Adam glanced over his shoulders towards the leaving carriages. “I don’t like it one bit.”
“Do you always worry this much?” Morkarai asked.
“You haven’t even heard half of the story.”
As they made camp for the evening, Lucy approached Vonda. She sat down beside the Ray, who prayed lightly over her meal, thanking Mother Soza’s grace. Once she was done, she smiled politely towards Lucy.
“Hey,” Lucy said, her voice raspy.
“Lucy. How may I assist you?”
“It’s not that… I just wanted to apologise, and to thank you.”
“Why do you need to apologise and thank me?” Vonda asked, tilting her head slightly, though the gentle smile on her face revealed her delight.
“You know why…”
“You don’t have to apologise or thank me, but I am glad that you are so appreciative of my assistance.”
“I didn’t realise I was going to be so troublesome,” Lucy admitted. She hadn’t realised the news of her presence was going to cause so many issues, nor that every fort was on the lookout for her.
“I am not surprised it was going to be so troublesome, since Jirot adores you so much.”
Lucy remained silent for a long moment, only now realising the young woman had become Jirot’s mother. The shadow of a smile appeared on her face for a moment, though it was swiftly forced away. “I am really sorry, Vonda.”
“You do not need to be sorry.”
Lucy shrugged her shoulder, unsure if she agreed with the Ray’s words. “Do you miss them?”
“My children? I do. I hope I can spend more time with them.” Vonda thought of Konarot, who didn’t seem to have accepted her yet.
“I miss them too…” Lucy played with the hem of her sleeve with her thumb and finger, staring down at the thread. “Would you walk with me in East Port? I’d like to buy the children something nice.”
Vonda smiled wider. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
The pair ate together, though Vonda struggled to eat the porridge, staring down at it for a short moment. She glanced towards Lucy, who ate the porridge quietly. Mara remained to one side, allowing the pair their time alone.
‘It’s the last month of dawnval, isn’t it? Hopefully this month goes smoothly…’
They passed through the next last town before East Port, though there were many days before they could reach the duchal capital of the region. Adam grew more tense as the days continued to pass, unsure of what was about to happen.
‘Are we going to meet another Divine? Is it going to be a Major Divine? Vonda said they would come in dreams since they’re so powerful. Will a Lesser Divine of Order come, then?’
‘Is he really expecting so much trouble?’ the Prince thought. “Is this how it always is?”
“Last year it was that way,” Jaygak confirmed. “The previous year was full of trouble.” A smirk made itself at home upon Jaygak’s lips, who thought of the trouble they had come across the previous year, and the escalating trouble they would no doubt come this year.
“…”
As thought he young woman spoke a prophecy, a day away from East Port they saw it.
‘There are some here?’ Jaygak thought, while Kitool and Jurot darted forward to go fight.
“Where-,” Adam began.
“There is a child,” Jurot shouted, while Morkarai reached down to grab a stone he had picked up along the way.
“A child?” the Prince asked. “Adam, what-,” Morkarai said, glancing back to see Adam’s body blinking out of existence. ‘What?’
Uh oh.
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