“Nice,” Jirot said, reaching up at fist towards her father.
“Nice,” Adam replied, reaching down his own fist, letting her fist bump him. “What’s nice?”
“Protecting aila, silly.”
“Oh, right.”
“Good job, babo,” Jirot called, holding up a fist as Tarvol returned a gentle fist bump. “You’re a real one.”
“Thank you,” Tarvol replied, unsure of what that meant, but as the girl sauntered off to thank her ahm and aila, his heart filled with warmth.
“Dear, I would like to talk about something important,” the half elf eventually said, picking her up, trapping her within his arms.
The girl shuffled and squirmed, but seeing that her father wasn’t relenting, she peeked up towards the fool, tilting her head slightly. “Yes, daddy?”
“One sec,” the half elf said, reaching down, but as the girl squirmed again, he held her close. “Let me pick up Jarot too.”
“Ock!” the girl replied, flushing.
“Thank you.” Adam picked up his son, planting a kiss on his forehead, and as the girl made to complain, kissed her forehead too. “We need to talk about how you’re so smart.”
“I am mummy’s daughter, after all.”
“Yes, but… you are such a little genius, my dear.”
“Of coas, of coas,” the girl said, with her brother mumbling the word after she did the first time. “How can you say this, daddy?”
“I just mean, you know, that you are really, really smart, even for a five year old.”
“I am almost six.”
“Yes, right, but even so, you’re extremely smart, and I just, I mean, you’re not in trouble my dear, I just…” The half elf wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. “I just mean that it makes me very happy, and I’m very proud, just like how you all make me happy and proud, and…”
The girl flushed a little, resting her head against her father’s neck, little Jarot mimicking his sister.
“I just want to make sure you’re happy.”
“I am happy, daddy.”
“Are you happy, Jarot?”
“Yes,” the boy replied.
“With your smartness, is there anything you want to do, my dear? Other than becoming the Demon Lord and ruling the world, I mean.”
“I want to learn to enchant.”
“We’ll speak with the Enchanter about that, but I mean with your intelligence and your knowledge.”
“I want to read stories.”
“You can do that too, but I mean… I don’t know, do you want to become an accountant or something?”
“Accountant?”
“You know, someone like papo Churot, whose the accountant for our business, who keeps tracks of all the money.”
“Yes! I want to know how much money the business has!” the girl replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Adam blinked, realising the grave mistake he made, and he swiftly approached his wife, begging her with his eyes for support, and the woman smiled innocently, waiting for the half elf to engrave the feeling within his heart.
“You dare to use my own spells against me?” Jirot accused, furrowing her brows towards her father.
“I am smart too,” Adam replied simply, causing the little girl to narrow her eyes further, and after kissing his cheek angrily, she pulled away towards her mother, who was able to oppress her husband by stealing away the twins. However, the half elf was too busy thinking about Jirot and her abilities, and her potential. He looked around to the rest of the children.
Konarot, the eldest, the kindest, the one who technically possessed a great artefact, the kind that would get her killed if she wasn’t strong enough to protect herself.
Then there was Kirot, who was equally as sweet, kind, and talented as her elder sister. She was like Konarot’s shadow, but the girl had, every so often, revealed a small difference between herself and her eldest sister.
He wasn’t sure what the two of them wished to become beyond great warriors who wielded heavy weapons, and though Konarot said she had wanted to become like her father, he was fairly certain she didn’t mean to become a fool. If she did, then…
‘I really do have to stop pretending to be an idiot…’
Then there was Karot. Sweet, meek, little Karot. The boy would take after his mother, and would probably become a Ray, and would one day reach the heavens with his adorableness, never mind his kindness, his sweetness, and his adorable playfulness.
‘If he’s anything like his father he’ll need a fiery woman to tame him,’ the half elf thought, smiling at his little joke, and then as he glanced aside towards his wife, noting the way their daughter was bullying her with her affection, the half elf’s heart throbbed.
Jirot.
Jirot said she wanted to become a Demon Lord, but what did that mean? Could the world allow her to aim to become something like that? No. The world would dare to harm her if she wished to become the Demon Lord, but if she wished to learn magic and enchanting, perhaps she could learn to love crafting instead, and potentially inventing all manner of new magical items.
Yes.
That would be best.
The little green skinned, amber eyed, leaf eared girl who paved the way to allow goblins to live peacefully with the other civilised folk, the same civilised folk who liked to kill children for the sake of their civility.
Then there was little Jarot.
Adam thought about his grandfather.
‘I should have swung my axe at him!’ the old man had complained. ‘I will see if he can escape!’
Little Jarot caught his father’s gaze. The boy smiled. Adam smiled. The boy waved. Adam waved. The boy hid away his face. Adam his away the killing intent within his heart.
‘What am I thinking about so deeply? They’re just children. Let them grow up a little first and then think about that sort of thing, you idiot.’
Adam excused himself, heading towards the central building in order to pray.
“Adam,” called a voice.
“…”
Adam stepped away with the fellow, while Jurot sat, his arms crossed, having wanted to call out to Adam first to check on him, but if Bael wanted to speak with him, what could he do?
“What’s up?” Adam asked as they stepped into one of the small cabins, an acolyte at first making to complain, but seeing the half dragon, then the half elf with the tattoo on his head, and memories flooding in from seeing the half elf defeat Kal Isam, the Poison Sword Dragon, in a single exchange, the acolyte decided not to court death within Saint Brandon’s Grand Temple of Lady Arya.
“I just wanted to drink with you,” Bael replied, reaching into his cloak, revealing a bottle of wine.
“I don’t really drink, but sure,” the half elf replied, settling himself within the table, for the cabin was as one might have expected, a tiny cabin with a staircase leading to an upper floor to a bed, the entire place open, save for a door which led to a bathroom, presumably, while the kitchen and living room were a singular room, with a table to one side, a desk, and a small library with the same ten books one might expect to find, including the holy book of Lady Arya. The smell was clean, woody, with a hint of ash, and now, of wine. “Whoa, what’s with the strong wine?”
Bael sipped from the bottle, holding it slightly above his lips, before offering the bottle to the half elf. “I’ve got a small favour to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“…”
“…”
Bael remained silent for a long moment, his brows furrowing slightly as he fell deeper in thought.
Adam wasn’t sure what had him thinking so deeply, though he couldn’t think too deeply about that himself, for the wine wasn’t as he expected, tasting almost like honey, but not any honey he was familiar with, instead like the most delicious honey on the planet. He stared at the bottle, swallowing down the thin liquid, and as he held the wine bottle he realised only a single drop had managed to escape, even though the drop was lighter than water. ‘Damn.’
“I’m not sure if favour is the right word,” Bael admitted finally, and he sipped the wine, allowing a single drop to flow onto his tongue, and he stared at the half elf. “The turn of the millennia brought too much Chaos to this world. I assume that lady might have something to say about it, she will try to Balance it, but…”
“Yeah?”
“I have a feeling this century is going to be unlike any other.”
“I assumed so.”
“You did?”
“I only pretend to be stupid,” the half elf replied, sipping the drop of honeywine. “I’ve been feeling it this year too.”
Bael smiled, taking back the bottle, and he corked it, letting it disappear into his cloak, though more so into another place entirely. “If even you’ve assumed that much then we don’t need to talk about it.”
“Were you going to ask me to help keep the Balance?”
“No. I was going to ask you to accompany me on my adventure to become the next-,”
A knock at the door interrupted them.