Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

It was that kind of evening.

“What are you thinking of so deeply?” Jurot asked.

The stars twinkled so brightly, all the while a particular half elf remained completely focused on them, to the point he had to step out to find his brother in the middle of his training, allowing the sounds of steel swiping through air to accompany his thoughts.

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?”

“…”

“I thought, all my life, not that it would be easy, but because I dreamed of it again and again, because it was the only reason I’d get out of bed every morning.”

“…”

Adam let out a long sigh, closing his eyes, seeing the flashes of days past, of his first life, barely recalling it, then his second life, barely able to recall it, and then his current life, where the world seemed so livid, and yet, he was certain he had spent time in a great many towns and cities, but all he could remember was the few he had visited the last year, plus a handful of the greater cities, like East Port.

“Jurot?”

“Adam.”

Adam opened his eyes, staring towards the sky, but it was not an Adam his brother had often seen, his eyes suddenly clear, glaring towards the heavens, and as he reached towards the dark sky, he clenched his fist, swallowing the stars.

He was that kind of Adam.

Then, after conquering the world, the half elf closed his eyes once more, let out another long sigh, and he returned to that kind of Adam, whose smile was not quite as bright, tinged with a sadness, the joy like butter spread too thinly.

“Good night, Jurot.”

“Good night, Adam.”

The half elf turned, feeling the gaze upon his back, guilty for burdening his brother with such dark thoughts. The Iyrman remained outside, the sweat on his skin dried by the chilly air, and as he stared down at his hand, the rough callouses reflected back at him.

Jurot stared up towards the stars, with the wonder of what his brother saw, the stars gazing back towards him. The Iyrman’s vision shifted, recalling another time, when he lay upon the soft grass, no longer green, but grey with memory, and beside him he could still feel it, under his hand, when it held no callouses, held no steel, held no death, the coarseness of his father’s tunic.

The young man clenched his fist, and returned back to his training.

The next morning, Jurot wiped his son’s face clean, the boy having ate so well. The boy glanced up at his father, and rather than surprise or shock, he was full of glee, as his father assisted in changing him, and then held his tiny hand, leading the boy and girl away to a nearby park.

“Daddy,” Damrot called.

“Damrot.”

“Daddy, big hands,” Damrot said, glancing to his father’s big hands.

“Yes,” Jurot replied, blinking down at his son.

“Big hands, daddy,” the boy whispered to himself.

Jurot felt the boys tiny hand within his own, and then he glanced to the side, towards Virot, who sauntered beside him, holding his hand too, the girl waving at all the Iyrmen, who smiled and returned their waves, for all knew of the girl, for it was not just her father’s tales which had travelled far. Jurot wondered if, perhaps, his father’s hands had been as large as his at his age, and then, if his own hands had been equally as small when he was a boy holding his father’s hand. He felt Virot’s tiny hand within his own, with the realisation that his father had certainly held his hand while walking through the Iyr, but Lanarot had yet to known such a touch.

Jarot’s metal leg struck the earth loudly, blocking her path. As their eyes met, the pair glared between one another, the Mad Dog against someone considered equally as vicious. His opponent raised her hand, and beckoned the old geezer.

“Going?” Virot asked, raising her brows, threatening her greatfather.

“To think you would return and you would not greet your babo or give him a kiss…” Jarot inhaled deeply. “Have you grown so much?”

“How? How?” The girl motioned up towards him, holding up her hand once more, beckoning him down.

Jarot grunted, taking a knee before his greatdaughter, who rushed up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek, and hugged his side, while little Damrot trailed afterwards, as though he was Virot’s shadow, but the old man quickly plucked him from the earth, and pinned the boy to his chest, a far brighter sun.

Jurot allowed the old man to bully him, turning to face his wife, who had begun preparing bread for the afternoon, though kept a keen eye upon her husband, who seemed so distracted. It was then he saw a particular child, and approached her, and after a moment of pause, the girl shifting slightly as a shadow loomed over her, she looked towards the figure. She sucked her thumb as she held Jurot’s gaze.

“…”

“…”

“I have returned from my walk.”

“…”

“Have you eaten?”

“Ooh,” the girl said, sitting upright, for she knew of these words, and thus awaited for him to reach into his robes, and once he had done so, the girl chewed lightly.

Sonarot blinked, for she would soon change the girl, and it seemed as though a greater gift would await for her.

What a lovely daughter.

Jurot held the girl’s hand, or rather, the girl held onto his thumb with her entire hand, and Jurot fed her with his free hand, as her other hand gripped his sleeve tightly. He recalled how even the girl’s elder sister had done so when she was just a tiny girl, and the young Iyrman smiled, causing his wife to instantly stop baking in order to see his handsome face for that moment, returning a moment later once the smile slipped away into whispers of memory.

Upon Lanarot’s return, Jurot lifted her up, causing her to squeal, and the pair hugged for a moment, another moment Lanarot hadn’t expected, until her brother finally placed her upon the earth, but waited another moment before allowing her to gain command over her own two feet upon the land.

“Brother! Did you know? Sometimes tigers are born without stripes!”

“They are?” Jurot replied, as though he did not learn such already.

“I am going to tame a tiger without stripes!”

“You should spend more time with Sun first.”

“Brother, you never go take me to see him,” the girl replied without missing a beat, holding her elder brother’s gaze, revealing she was indeed her nieces’ aunt.

Jurot blinked.

Purple kissed the sky.

‘Just a few more days,’ Adam thought, staring down at his book. ‘I’ve sent word to the Amira. I’m almost done with the weapons. I’ll need to figure out a name for them. Then…’

The half elf ignored the vicious glare at his side, for today was that day, the sixth day of the month, meaning tomorrow was the seventh.

The seventh day came too quickly, the half elf thought, though, after seeing the girl’s beaming smile, he thought, perhaps, it didn’t come quickly enough?

“Daddy, if you think I forgive you because you finally are being a good boy, you would be wrong,” Jirot declared firmly.

“I see…”

“I forgive you because you are so handsome.”

“You cannot forgive people just because they’re handsome, but for your family, you can do that,” the half elf replied, reaching out to pinch the girl’s nose.

“I do not forgive you any more.”

“What? My dear, how can you say that, my dear, my lovely dear, whose heart is so full of mercy?”

“Now you have to make it up to me!” Jirot declared, pointing towards her father with an accusatory finger, her eyes sparkling with mischief, for her father hadn’t appreciated her mercy, and now she sprung a great trap to defeat him with such ease.

“I see…” Adam smiled, reaching down to pinch her cheek. “Then I will say this, my dear. By the end of this month, you will forgive me, for I have prepared you all a special gift.”

“A special gift?” Jirot asked, holding her father’s gaze. “It is a secret?”

“For now.”

“Then my forgiveness is a secret.”

“Why are you so good at talking, hmm?” Adam leaned in to nuzzle her nose, planting a quick kiss on her forehead, causing the girl to snicker quietly.

Jurot used the opportunity to hold Amalrot, the girl half laying upon him as he fed her bits of fruit, the girl chewing slowly, the juices dribbling down her chin. He had claimed her for himself this day, though he was certain at some point, another, greater foe, would appear.

Ah.

“Amalrot, is your big brother feeding you fruit?” Adam asked, instantly beaming at the girl.

Amalrot smiled, turning her head to hide it within her brother’s bosom, only to find his brother was not like her mother, but she continued to shy away from her elder brother.

“Why don’t we all play Warriors and Wanderers today?” Adam called, smiling lightly.

How could such a thing cause trouble?

PATREON LINK

Finally, Jurot spoils his children properly.