[1624] – Y07.124 – Black Lions IV
The pair stared between one another for a long moment, for though she was the Mother of Lions, it was she who had watched out for Aswadasad for her entire life, and as she stared at the woman opposite her, the whipper snapper who had dared to step out and cause trouble within Aswadasad, precious Aswadasad.
The young whipper snapper held up the cup with her winkled red fingers, and raised it to the old woman before her, who held up her own cup, and with that, they finished their wordless conversation.
“Hello…” Jirot called, the little girl staring up at the old woman, who held the position as one of the few mortals who had reached such a great realm, so few who were of her age.
“Hello, little Jirot.” The woman dared to reach down to fix the girl’s little hijab, and she brushed the girl’s cheek tenderly, for she dared to lay her hands upon an Iyrchild, this Mother of Lions.
“I like your tales,” the girl said shyly.
“Are my tales so impressive?”
“Yes.” The girl’s lips formed a shy smile.
“If it is you, Jirot, who speaks the words, I believe in them,” the woman said, causing the girl to smile even wider, side eyeing the woman. “Whose tales are your favourites?”
“Nano’s,” the girl said, pointing to the old Flame Brand, who continued to sip her milk, her eyes closed, though she peeked an eye open towards her greatdaughter, for looking cool was not quite as important as showering her greatdaughter in affection. “My nano’s tales are the coolest.”
“Coolest?”
“Coolest,” the girl confirmed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means… amazing? Daddy, what could coolest mean?” the girl called, causing the half elf to glance her way, the half elf busy feeding his youngest sister.
“What? Coolest? Uh, it means… amazing?” the half elf replied almost exactly as his daughter had. “It means the most amazing, with a touch of… style?”
“I see…” Ellani couldn’t help but think the slang of the youth had changed so much, but she understood what the girl was saying, mostly. “What is your favourite tale of your greatmother’s?”
“My favourite tales is when nano did not die and she came back to the Iyr so she could spoil me,” the girl said simply, smiling so brightly towards her greatmother, she almost blinded all those around her.
“It is a good tale,” Gangak replied, recalling how many figures had come to face her. To think so many of Aswadasad’s Order had come to meet with her, including those of Ellani’s peers, and even her companion. To have died there would not have been a terrible tale, but she had to return, for her life allowed Rangak his freedom to continue his own adventure, and thus he could reach the heights he had.
“Even though they sent so many to force nano away, you cannot do so to daddy,” Jirot said, leaning in to Ellani, side eyeing her father, who side eyed her, as though pretending as though he wasn’t snooping. “My daddy is so strong.”
“I know he is strong.”
“My daddy beat up so many people already this year.”
“Who did he beat up?”
“Daddy beat up the Amber Blade, the Elder of Amber, he even beat up the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa a little bit, and he beat up New Moon, and then he beat up Kal Aisha.” The girl sipped her cup of milk and let out a satisfied sigh, as though she hadn’t said one of the craziest statements that would be written down in their archives. “My daddy is so strong.”12
“He is,” Ellani said, smiling as she filled up the girl’s cup, and then the boy’s cup, though he did not drink from it. “Your father is so strong, are there any who can defeat him?”
“My babo beat him up, and the one they call the Lord of Flames, um, Lord Asa, the Hearth of Floria, his son, the Lord of Flames, Emperor Shama, also beat him up.”
Ellani blinked. ‘The Hearth of Floria’s son?’
“My babo is the strongest,” the girl said, side eyeing Ellani, sipping her cup.
“Your babo?”
“Babo Jarot.” The girl pointed to her greatfather who was being kept at bay by his granddaughters, one who was doing her best to try and rile up the old man by talking about how someone should fight, and his eldest granddaughter who was trying to keep the old man from killing someone. Thankfully, Mulrot was beside him, and she held up a finger, in the same way her greatdaughter would often threaten the old man.
“The Mad Dog? He has defeated your father?”
“Yes. He beat up daddy so badly.” The girl spoke in such a way as though it was difficult for her to speak of it, partly because it wounded her heart, and partly because she was trying not to laugh at the thought of her daddy getting beat up like he deserved.
However, Ellani also considered the other who had apparently defeated her father, certain she wasn’t meant to have heard of that, but the Iyrmen did not stop the girl.
“Your father is strong indeed,” Ellani said, recalling how the half elf, somehow, had managed to defeat the Poison Sword Dragon too.
“Oh! I can defeat my daddy, and mummy can defeat him too, of coas,” the girl said, as though that was so obvious it didn’t need to be said.
“Ah. Of course.”
“Of coas.” The girl sipped her cup of milk, letting out another loud satisfied sigh. She side eyed her father once more, who was pouting, holding little Amalrot, and the girl decided to show him mercy. “Daddy is going to teach me magic and then I am going to be the best with magic, and, and I am going to enchant too-,”
Gangak pinched the girl’s nose, causing her to freeze in place. “If you cause too much trouble, the Enchanter will not teach you to enchant.”
The girl tilted her head, raising her brows wide, but as her greatmother continued, telling her not to speak any more of the topic in their tongue, the girl flushed, but was soon swallowed whole by her arms, the pair staring into each other’s arms, exchanging quick kisses.
“Nano…”
“I will ask your grandmother to speak with the Enchanter as the President, and if the Enchanter wishes to teach you enchanting, then…” Gangak shrugged.
Adam furrowed his brows. ‘Why do I feel like I already…’
“Nano, when I become an enchanter, I will enchant you a lovely sword, better than-,” the girl said, though she was stopped by her greatmother’s affection, for she had showered little Jarot with this much, and thus showered Jirot with that much.
It was not as though Gangak did not trust her greatdaughter, but as a child, she might let slip too much, and even this much was enough for Ellani to notice, so she would need to shower her greatdaughter with great affection, and one of her many tales.
The gates nearby began to open, as a Black Lion escorted a figure inside, an old woman who was considered perhaps middle aged within such a group, adorned in black robes, a black scarf, and wore upon her back a black spear. She was lighter skinned, only a touch darker than the tanned Vonda, and her lower lip was painted silver, her eyes shadowed by silver, and even her spear’s tip was lined with silver.
“Oho, I didn’t realise so many Iyrmen had…” the woman began, though she spotted a few Iyrmen who caught her eyes, those of the Ool and Fev families. “Shukhur, is it my fortune to meet with such fine Iyrmen today?”
‘Since she looks fifty, she’s probably sixty something?’ Adam thought, peeking towards the old woman, who approached, and after seeing the children, she rested her spear against the wall to one side and approached once more, though then paused as she saw another familiar face, who held a pair of green skinned children with amber eyes.
“Flame Brand, wasn’t it?”
“It was so.”
“I suppose you do not recognise me, for I was but a teen when we last met, but I am Flower Spear, and we met during the time you passed through, right before you were forced away,” the woman said.
“I do not recall exactly, but you look familiar,” Flame Brand confirmed, bowing her head gently, and the woman bowed her head in return.
Flower Spear recalled how she had hated the woman who had defeated her father with such ease, but seeing her like this, after she was forced away, she couldn’t help but feel guilty at feeling such joy in the woman having been forced away. She turned towards the children, and after a moment, she bowed her head and greeted the rest of the Iyrmen.
“Grandmother, you sure beat up a lot of people,” Adam said, his eyes trailing to the side to the red skinned woman, who smiled, for while she looked the way she did in Aswadasad, Adam was a half fae who spent so much of his time in Aldland, so understood what the awkwardness in the air was from the Flower Spear to the old woman.