Omen: 9, 12

“Will you be able to fight tomorrow?” Sonarot asked. “If you are not feeling well, Jurot can fight instead.”

“I’ll be alright,” Adam said, bringing up a piece of fruit for Lanarot, who grabbed his hand to bite the fruit from his hand. “So I’ll be fighting on the first day?”

“There are many who are eager to face you, and I believe that you would prefer to get the fighting out of the way so you can enjoy the rest of the festival,” Sonarot said.

“How do you know me so well?” Adam asked.

“You are always eager to work.” Sonarot’s lips formed a small smile.

“Right.”

“If you lose, it’ll be really embarrassing,” Jaygak said, biting into the grilled fish, before biting into a pepper.

“Are Iyrmen so weak that I’ll be embarrassed to lose to them?” Adam asked.

Jogak threw a look towards Adam, before glancing down towards his daughter. ‘You have to do better than that.’ He was glad that Adam could put Jaygak in her place, especially after she stole the pepper he had been saving for the last day of his cooking.

“I’ll be sure to tell Lanarot all about it when she’s older,” Jaygak said.

“Make sure you engrave tomorrow into your mind, though it doesn’t matter if you don’t.” Adam bit into the fish. “Jurot will remember fine enough to tell her.”

Jurot nodded his head.

Adam wondered how he was going to help Jurot become closer with Lanarot. Even though Lanarot wanted to play with him, Jurot would often times be too busy, or have no idea what to do with the baby.

“Whose going to fight from your families?” Adam asked.

“My cousin,” Jaygak said. “Though my uncle might if it’s near the end of the festival.”

“My cousin will also fight,” Kitool said.

“How come neither of you are going to fight?”

“The official fights have been dealt with long before we returned,” Kitool said. “We may fight too, if we decide to.”

“I see,” Adam said. “So I’m officially fighting for the Rot family, and if Jurot wants to fight, he could, but it’s my fight that people will formally recognise?”

“All fights are formally recognised, but your fight is the most important,” Kitool explained.

“That’s quite some pressure,” Adam said.

“If you want to give up, there’s no shame in it,” Jaygak said, but she smirked at him.

Adam smiled in return. “It requires pressure for diamonds to form.”

“Really?” Raygak asked.

“That and heat,” Adam said.

“I get hot and pressure too,” Raygak said. “Am I a diamond?”

“You’re a diamond to your parents, probably?” Adam replied.

“My son is worth more than a diamond,” Jogak declared, casually. It was only after he said it that he felt his cheeks burn, feeling the gaze of Shikan, Citool, Sonarot, and Jaygak staring at him.

The Iyrman cleared his throat.

“What about for your family?” Adam asked Shikan.

“There are many nieces and nephews who wanted to fight,” Shikan said. “My nephew, Rakan, will fight.”

“There will be only one?” Sonarot asked.

Shikan shook his head. “It seemed they were too eager, and there was a commotion.”

Sonarot nodded her head slowly.

“So even Iyrmen act up and get in trouble,” Adam said. “So you’re only Human, after all.”

“We are not Humans,” Shikan stated. “We are Iyrmen.”

“Right.”

It began to rain towards the afternoon, so Adam spent his time inside, checking over his spells.

“I can use my spells during the fights, right?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Jurot replied, whittling some wood.

“Ah, that’s goo-“ Adam quickly threw himself forward grabbing onto Lanarot, pinching the wood strip out of her hand and mouth. “Lanababy, no,” Adam said, firmly. “No.”

Jurot stopped whittling. “What is the matter?”

“She could choke on the wood chippings,” Adam said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Jurot narrowed his eyes. There was a long moment of silence as he thought. “I will place them in a bin.”

Adam nodded, dropping the chipping away as Lanarot squirmed and complained, trying to reach for the wood strip she had been eagerly biting.

“Forget the wood, you can play with me,” Adam said, picking her up and blowing a raspberry in her stomach.

She went from squirming and complaining to laughing, kicking out her legs as she brought her hands together and squeezed her hands excitedly.

“See? I’m really fun, aren’t I?” Adam said, bouncing her in his arms, before pulling her close to his chest and swaying from side to side. “If only I had a game system or something. Then you could watch me play…” Adam found his throat closing.

He remembered playing a game whilst his younger brother watched quietly from beside him. The memory hit him like a truck, causing him to freeze for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Jurot asked.

Adam blinked rapidly, before nodding his head. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“When I was a boy, mother found me chewing on a wood strip from one of my projects. It was the first Wolf I had carved, which I gifted to mother. It was delicious.”

Adam furrowed his brows, staring at Jurot confused. “Why did you chew on the wood strip?”

“It was delicious,” Jurot replied, simply. “Aswadian Oak.” Jurot closed his eyes, recalling the taste. “It tasted similar to a tea which originated from Aswadasad.”

“Right.”

The look in Adam’s eye had disappeared, and he returned to playing with Lanarot.

Jurot wondered if he should ask Adam about his past, but seeing that he was having a good time with Lanarot, he decided against it.

Omen: 4, 12

Sonarot finished tying the sash around Adam’s waist, tucking it in so it didn’t get in the way.

Adam and Jurot were both wearing identical outfits, grey in colour, with the Rot family symbol embroidered along the shoulders where the outer shirt cut off.

Adam wondered if he was in some kind of martial arts manhwa, since his outfit screamed cultivation.

“Recently, I keep thinking I’m in a different genre,” Adam said, feeling as though he was going to bump into an arrogant young master.

Jurot stared at Adam, his eyes remaining as oblivious as ever. He had no idea what Adam meant, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“Jurot, if I start saying cringe stuff, you need to pull me away,” Adam said.

“I understand,” Jurot said, nodding his head.

Sonarot mixed some kind of blue power with a drop of water, before dabbing some along her finger and she marked Lanarot’s forehead with seven marks, a circle in the centre, and three strikes on either side, mimicking a crude form of their family symbol.

Lanarot was also wearing a similar outfit to them, though her shirt wasn’t cut off at the shoulders like theirs. There was a sash which was tied around her stomach, though it wasn’t very tight, and someone could easily slip their hand into it to grab at it in case she tried to flee.

“Who is this cute little girl?” Adam asked, staring down at his little sister, whose outfit was also grey, though her sash was blue. “Who is the cutest little baby?”

Jurot almost reached for Adam to pull him away, but stopped.

‘No, he did not mean this.’

She blew out a raspberry towards him and reached up to try and grab his nose.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be long now,” Adam said, reaching up to brush her hair with his hand, which swept back and to the side so her painted forehead could be seen.

The four families said goodbye to one another, each of them wearing their attire. The Rot family had to wait, as Adam needed to slip into his armour, though he decided against wearing the entire thing, instead taking with him the breast plate, a shield, and his trusty Phantom.

“Are you certain you do not want to wear your armour?” Sonarot asked. “No one will judge you.”

“It’s not about the judgement, it’s about justification,” Adam said. “If I win, I’ve done so without fighting at full strength. If I lose, I can say it’s because I wasn’t fighting at full strength.”

Jurot almost reached for Adam to pull him away, but stopped.

‘No, he did not mean this.’

Sonarot shook her head. “Whether you win or lose, it must be with grace, Adam.”

“I know, I know,” Adam said. “I definitely won’t lose though.”

Eventually they travelled through the busy roads of the Iyr, which were full of Iyrmen who were going about the festival. There were a great many stalls which had been set up, mostly full of food and trinkets which Iyrmen had made to show off.

There were a few games which had been set up too, games which tested one’s athletic abilities, from their ability to throw a ball into a small pot, throwing a heavy stone far, archery, and more.

However, Sonarot was leading them further away, before they arrived at a corner of the Iyr, which had been sanctioned off for fights. There was already a large gathering of Iyrmen who were eager to watch the fight.

“Why are there so many people?” Adam asked, seeing hundreds of Iyrmen nearby, most of them currently eating some kind of snack, and some drinking wine.

“They are here to watch the fights,” Sonarot replied, as though it were obvious.

“I gathered that much, but…”

“There he is!” called a familiar voice.

Adam turned to see Cirot, or was it Sirot, waving at him. “Adam!”

“Yo,” Adam said, noting Sirot, or was it Cirot, quickly standing beside her sister.

The pair were wearing similar outfits to Sonarot and Lanarot, though their outfits were tan, with a darker brown sash at their waist.

“You look like a lost sheep,” Jarot called, having appeared from nowhere, not ten steps beside Adam.

“That’s how I always look,” Adam replied. “Are you here to make more money, old man?”

“I can’t bully the others by taking all their money,” Jarot said. “I’ll reserve myself to only a hundred gold.”

Adam raised his brows. “Right.”

Jurot glanced to Adam, his eyes narrowed. “You should speak with respect to grandfather.”

“Jurot, my boy,” Jarot called, ruffling the young man’s hair. “What a brother you have chosen.”

“He is queer, but very strong,” Jurot said.

“Is there anything more true?” Jarot laughed. “Ah, and here’s my little granddaughter.” Jarot picked her up with his one good hand, wrapping her in towards his chest before he kissed her face all over, causing her to squirm. “How big and fat you’ve become.”

“Hold on a-“

“That is right,” Jurot said. “She will become strong.”

‘Well, I can’t fault his spirit.’