[1672] – Y07.172 – A Man of Family II

“This is my grandmother, Mulrot, who is known as the Ascending Swallow,” Adam continued, introducing the old man to everyone nearby.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Kal,” Vadim said.

“The pleasure is mine,” Mulrot replied, smiling, for even she could see the glow within her greatdaughter’s eyes, and since this was someone the girl was so excited to meet, she, too, was excited to meet him.

“This is also my grandmother, Gangak, who is known as Flame Brand.” Adam motioned to the old woman with red wrinkled skin, horns, and a blade at her side that emanated a grave aura.

“I have heard so much of you from my great granddaughter, for she cannot stop speaking of your tales,” the old woman admitted, standing to greet the man, a warm smile upon her lips, and as she noted the way the old man’s eyes flashed, not with recognition towards her, but of a painful memory of another time, and instead of reaching out to clasp his arm, she placed a hand upon Hakam’s shoulder, which caused him to tense, and then for her own grandson to tense, his eyes suddenly taking on such a vicious glare, until the woman chuckled. “This must be your grandson, for he has inherited your handsomeness, and, from what I see, your talent.”

“Thank you,” the old man replied, having calmed his heart, his eyes trailing up to meet the woman’s gaze once more, wincing at the thought of the fire. “I have also heard of you, Flame Brand, who caused such trouble before my time, and carved a name for herself into the history of the devilkin.”

“It is a shame I was unable to claim such a victory for my family, but I am at ease knowing that even you, Kal Vadim, have heard of my tales.”

Adam continued to introduce the others to the warrior, who held his own thoughts about all the various figures he was introduced to, from the half elf’s wife, whom he greeted with the greatest of respect, to the Iyrmanly brother, his Iyrmanly siblings, one who was very different to the other, in the same way the half elf was different to all three of the others, she was different to all three of the others, then to his Aunt, who was his brother’s mother, though the half elf held such reverence in his voice for her.

‘So she is the President,’ the old man thought, greeting the woman, who possessed quite the aura about her, and she was certainly at least an Expert, in his estimations, and Adam continued to introduce him to others.

Vadim decided to kill all the thoughts in his mind, all the fear within his heart, for there were many here who he did not know, he did not hear of, and yet assuredly most were greater than Grandmaster, many Paragons, and he decided not to think too deeply of meeting the Butcher, although he allowed some surprise through, for one figure was too surprising not to consider.

‘Even the Lion King…’

“It is good to meet you,” Ashmir stated blandly.

“We have met once before,” Vadim admitted. “It was when I was a whole man, and your steel, I can still recall it.”

Ashmir slowly bowed his head, though he could not recall the meeting, though the man, who held half of his many limbs, and the rest of him remained half burnt, to the point the old man continued to wince as he moved. Even so, Vadim did not seem to take offence, for he had greater worries in life.

Vadim settled himself, wincing, and as he settled himself, the green skinned girl came into his vision, sitting upon her father’s lap, still holding her stomach, though she did not seem quite as at unease as she was moments ago, the girl’s head settled against her father’s bicep, almost nestled against his armpit, where it was most comfortable.

“Dear, do you want to speak of my tales to Kal Vadim?” Adam asked, planting a kiss upon the girl’s forehead, her little hat threatening to fall.

“No, I will speak great grandmothers’ tales and great grandfather’s tales,” Jirot replied, reminding the half elf of his place, though he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her and her twin brother close to him, and the half elf, feeling his heart shudder, the warmth spreading through him, planting more kisses atop her head.

The girl began her tales, speaking of Flame Brand’s tales first, many of which the old man did not know, nor how many great figures she had somehow managed to defeat, so he assumed, for the Iyrmen spoke no lies, and from what he gathered, the girl was consider a child of the Iyr, so he needed to assume she spoke the truth too.

‘It is no wonder the Orders forced her away,’ the old man thought, for with every tale the girl spoke, summarising most, save for a few words here and there of what they recalled being said, he found out more and more about the figure known as Flame Brand, and then the Ascending Swallow, and then the Mad Dog, although the girl stopped mentioning his tales at some point and began to make a list of names of who her greatfather had defeated, who he had killed, many named lost to time, but then spoke of those in the position of Grand Commander and Vice Commander, or Fariq and Fariq Thanwi, of various Orders, including the likes of Sun Sword Zakaray, one of the figures known across the land.

“My daddy, he has defeated some names too, but my uncle, Jurot, is very strong too, he is great grandfather’s grandson too, and my aunt, Nirot,” Jirot pointed towards the woman who shared the same tattoo as many around the girl, “is so strong, she defeated a giant viper when she was not even twenty years old, by herself.”

Hakam blinked. He turned towards his grandfather, wondering if he had heard the girl correctly, or if perhaps the girl was not quite able to articulate herself in Aswadic properly, but then again she did use words like plethora, penultimate, and frenetic, which he was certain wasn’t a made up word, but he also didn’t know what it meant.

The girl continued, speaking a great many tales, all the while Vadim ate and drank, and then before she spoke of her father’s tales, she asked him of his tales, and so Vadim spoke of his tales, though only lightly, speaking of how he rose into a position of prominence, and then came into an unfortunate accident, and though he did not speak of the details, the girl mentioned a great many names, many of which he wasn’t sure how the girl knew, or how the details of the situation has slipped out.

“How do you know such names?” Vadim asked, for his heart ached, understanding he was in great danger, for the girl spoke names she should not have known, should not have spoken, and should not have admitted to him, for his nights would be much darker, and full of sleeplessness.

“I read them in the books.”

“Which books?”

“The books in the Iyr.” Jirot beamed. “I like to read so I read a lot, and I read to my brothers and sisters, and my cousins, and my aunts and uncles, and my grandmothers and grandfathers, and my great grandmothers and great grandfathers.”

Vadim had no idea the Iyr knew the circumstances of his situation, not at the level in which they did, and as his eyes scanned across the faces nearby, he could see how the old man’s neck remained taut, and how his eyes were shut tight.

“It is the way of they the call nobles to harm those who they consider so weak,” Jarot said, and then his lips formed the kind of wicked grin only drawn by the one man known as the Mad Dog, reaching up to his eyes. “It was my greatest pleasure to slay so many.”

“Grandfather,” Adam whispered, motioning his head to his wife, who wore such an amulet upon her chest, and the old man cleared his throat.

“It is a shame, indeed,” Jarot replied, though he did not mean the words, but he did not lie, for he was merely speaking the thoughts of those around him.

“I suppose it’s time for you to speak my tales now?” Adam asked, though as he did, a servant stepped within, revealing the carriages had arrived to take the half elf and his companions away. “Oh dear. It looks like I’ll have to just show you instead, for the carriages have arrived, and I must go fight a great many warriors. Would you care to join us?”

“I shall go,” Vadim groaned, slowly standing, Hakam holding the old man within his sights. Then he noticed Chosen was also standing, and some other Iyrmen nearby were standing too, preparing themselves to leave. ‘Shall I send Hakam instead?’