Marmak and Karmin kept an eye on Sully, while Sokikez and Dogek kept their eye on Ashmir, for while they trusted him, there was an extremely tiny chance for him to act up, and Chosen and Tanagek had taken the role to watch over Sal.
“It wasn’t long ago he defeated others who you may know,” Ashmir said, sipping his tea lightly, for drinking alcohol was too awkward around Sully and children of the Iyr, and even the blue mountain of a man thought the same, drinking a cup of tea opposite him.
“Other Fariqi?” Sully asked, Ashmir nodding his head. “Which?”
“He defeated the New Moon, though you may have heard he had also defeated the Elder of Amber, and earlier this year, he did so again, after defeating the Amber Blade.”
“Why would he need to defeat the Elder of Amber again if he defeated the Amber Blade?”
“It was immediately after.”
“Immediately?”
“Immediately.”
Sully sipped his tea, his eyes trailing over towards the half elf, who was currently holding the blue toddler, the girl far more comfortable with him than even Ashmir.
“You think you can get me to feed you just because you’re drooling?” Adam asked, holding his sister’s gaze.
“Yeh.”
“How did you know?”
The girl squealed, though quickly stopped as the half elf brought a slice of fruit to her lips, the girl pushing it into her mouth, slowly chewing. The half elf rested his cheek against her forehead, covering the girl within his shadow, and with a gentle hand, he rubbed the girl’s stomach lightly, causing the girl to smile, and she tried to glance up towards him, but found he was too busy kissing her forehead down towards her ear.
“We did not meet often enough for her to remember me,” Sully admitted, not with any hint of regret, but it was not as though it brought him joy to speak the words.
“A boon for the first, though she may miss her nursemothers.”
“It seems as though she has forgotten them all,” Sully joked, sipping the rest of his tea, the cup tiny within his fingers, but he continued to pour the hot liquid into it, while Ashmir waited for the tea to cool, for he was not a man who was able to handle the heat. “It is now the Crazy Father who is her father?”
“No,” Ashmir replied.
“No?”
“He is her…”
“Brother.”
“Why?”
“Adam,” Ashmir called, and beckoned the half elf with his fingers, the half elf bringing along his giant sister, who could barely be contained within his arms. “Why were you unable to claim Amal as your daughter?”
“My brother, who has everything in the world, would not surrender my beautiful Amal to me,” Adam grumbled, planting a firm kiss on the girl’s forehead. “Since we were fighting, my Aunt Sonarot, ended up adopting her.”
“I am Sonarot,” the Iyrman woman said, who held a certain sharpness, her skin tanned by the sun, her hair golden chestnut, her eyes dark, but holding a gentle lightness. She had walked over to feed the girl a piece of fruit, and the girl beamed up towards the woman. “Adam and Jurot fought over her, so I claimed her as my own.”
“Jurot…” Sully glanced aside towards the Iyrman. “A Master who can defeat my son?”
“Yes,” Jurot replied.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty five.”
“What of you?”
“Twenty five,” Adam confirmed. “My brother and my wife and I share the same birthday. Although, my brother was a Master at twenty three, and we’re a step ahead of Master at this time.”
“Impressive,” Sully admitted, pouring them all a cup of tea. “You have to be that strong if you are to be Amal’s brothers.”
“I am even stronger,” a girl declared, marching up to them all, reaching holding a small chocolate within her hand, offering it to her sister.
“You are?”
“Yes!” Lanarot replied confidently. “I am stronger than my brothers.”
“She is difficult to face,” Jurot said.
“Too difficult,” Adam agreed.
“I see…” Sully greeted the girl with a gentle forearm shake and as the girl sauntered her way to her mother, Sully glanced aside towards the other children. “Are they your children, Crazy Father?”
Adam smiled gently. “They are mine and my wife’s.”
“The Ray?”
“Yes,” Adam replied, his lips forming a wide smile, his cheeks flushing lightly.
“It is an honour to meet with you, Ray.”
“It is my honour to meet you, Kal Sully.”
“You do not need to call me Kal, Ray,” Sully assured, and noting the Iyrmen all around him, and then the children, and then to the father, he understood Amal was going to have quite the life. “Do your children speak the good tongue of fire?”
“A little bit,” Jirot replied in the tongue, almost pinching her finger and thumb. “My aunt taught it to me, who is now an Elder of the Iyr, because she, too, became a Master at twenty three.”
Sully was about to reply with a joke, but seeing the girl’s glimmering amber eyes, he kept the joke to himself, though he reached out to ruffle the girl’s hair gently. “You speak the tongue well.”
“I am good with my letters and numbers,” Jirot replied, her lips forming the most troublesomely adorable smirk.
“Your aunt is a Master?”
“Yes. She is Elder Jaygak, and he is my great grandmother’s niece. Do you know my great grandmother, Kal Sully? She is Flame Brand!”
“Your great grandmother is Flame Brand?” Sully asked, realising that, apparently, this family could surprise him.
“Yes!” Jirot pointed towards the red skinned woman to the side, who was pretending as though she wasn’t listening to the conversation, all the while sipping her tea calmly. Except beside her, an old Iyrman with a wooden arm and leg seemed to wish to draw his axe towards the gladiator, emanating a wicked aura, though Sully ignored it. “The angry looking man is my great grandfather, Mad Dog, and my twin brother, Jarot, was named after him.”
“Giaroh?” Sully clasped a palm over his fist towards Flame Brand and Mad Dog, but did not engage with them further, for perhaps trouble would spark between them all. “You have inherited a great name, little Giaroh.”
The little Jarot flushed, the boy glancing aside towards his sister, and he retreated towards his mother’s arm.
“My brother is so strong, and he will grow to be as strong as my great grandfather, who beat up the Full Moon!”
“I heard your father defeated the New Moon.”
“Yes! First, my great grandfather defeated the Full Moon, but that’s because last year, daddy beat her up because she was so rude, and so my great grandfather beat her up, and then my father beat her up, and my great grandmother, Ascending Swallow, she beat up the Rough Spear Drake, and she was so disrespectful, because she is my great grandmother and she is allowed to be disrespectful.” Jirot let out a satisfied sigh, her lips forming another playful smirk.
Sully reached out towards the girl once more, ruffling her hair gently, brushing a strand away, tucking it behind her leaf shaped ear. “If you are a Roh, will you learn the way of the Roh family?”
“I am going to be a Scribe Mage, but I will cause as much trouble as my great grandfather, so everyone remembers I am Jirot.”
Adam snorted slightly, and caught Sully’s eyes.
“You speak the tongue of fire?”
“I speak the tongue of all the elements,” Adam replied, and Sully nodded, for he spoke far more formal, archaic, as those who knew Elementi.
Sully’s eyes then fell onto the red skinned children who were waiting patiently to one side, with their tea that was cooling, with their tails which swayed with a heaviness. He sipped his own tea once more, the water scalding, which would harm most of those here, and then his eyes snapped to the half elf beside him, who also drank such scalding tea.
Adam didn’t notice the way Sully was looking at him, nor that he had noticed much more than one might have expected. However, even if he did notice, what could he do?
Sal glanced aside towards the two Iyrmen who were keeping an eye on him, noting their tattoos, which matched some of those around them. “Are you related to Jurot?”
“He is my cousin,” Chosen replied, and with a large slap against Tanagek’s shoulder, causing Tanagek to side eye him. Chosen smiled. “His mother and Tanagek’s father are siblings.”
“Ah, yo-,” Sal began, only to pause a moment, furrowing his brows. “You are named Tanagek?”
“Yes.”
“You are a descendant of Hadi Tanagek?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a Master too?”
“Yes.”
“Is it so difficult to be a Master?” Chosen joked, sipping his own tea lightly, feeling Sal’s gaze on his skin.
‘What kind of monsters has the Iyr raised?’ Sal thought, and as he sipped his scalding hot tea, he considered his place in the world, for he was strong, and yet surrounded by these Iyrmen, he was but a pup. His eyes then darted to the young woman who remained to one side, though she remained near the other red skinned teen who wore no tattoos, as well as the others who were young adults. ‘Is she a Master too?’