The music continued to pick up as the minutes passed, and soon there were a few Iyrmen who had taken to the square stage to dance. Soon even the children, revitalised by the food, went to dance at the square. Taygak and the others let their bodies move as they pleased, though sometimes Adam spotted them doing star jumps.

Lanarot watched, laughing and squealing as the people danced. She watched, mesmerised by the group. Sometimes she would babble quietly, but she mostly remained silent.

“When does the fighting begin?” Adam asked, throwing a look to Jurot.

“Soon,” Jurot replied.

Not even a half hour had passed before the first fight began. It was a pair of Iyrmen from the group beside them, those mostly made up of the friends of the families which were getting married.

A Human and an Orcish Iyrmen stepped out together, each pulling out their weapons. One wielded a large axe, the other a large sword. They circled around one another as the Iyrmen around turned their attention to the pair.

Soon, steel sang against steel. It wasn’t so much as a real fight as it was a performance, with the pair dancing together in battle, with leaps and long swipes.

Lanarot squealed with joy as she watched the pair fight, clapping her hands in excitement, before tossing out her arms in the air and screaming.

One of the Iyrmen was caught off guard by the screaming, throwing a glance back over his shoulder, and the other cut into their companion, causing blood to spray out.

Lanarot stared at the motionless Iyrmen, who was beginning to bleed, and shrieked with joy. She shook violently as she tossed her arms in the air, before her mother quickly wrapped her arms around the girl and picked her up. Lanarot looked up at her mother, blinking at her, before giggling innocently.

“Calm down, Lanarot,” Sonarot whispered, brushing the girl’s hair.

Lanarot continued to giggle innocently.

Adam was rubbing his chin with the side of his fist, partly embarrassed, but the smirk on his face revealed the pride he had for the little girl. ‘It seems it’s too late for me to try and put her on the right path.’

“Shall we fight?” Jurot asked, watching as the other Iyrmen walked away.

“I’ve got someone else in mind,” Adam said, hopping onto his feet, grabbing his axe. “Hey, Jonn, get up.”

Jonn, who had remained mostly silent while his other companions had spoken to one another, threw his eyes up towards Adam. He stood, approaching the square.

Adam took his place opposite the other Half Elf. Both were Half Elves, and yet their relationship with the Iyr was so different. While Jonn wore the white clothing which denoted him as a Guest, Adam wore the clothing of a Nephew. It was thanks to Jurot that the pair were able to live peacefully in the Iyr.

“It’s been a while since you’ve followed me,” Adam said. “We met under quite the circumstances.”

Jonn bowed his head.

“Back then, we fought, and you made a bet with me. Do you remember?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

“It was in the middle of noonval, I think. If you won, you’d take that precious blade of mine, and my puthral. If I won, you’d swear yourself to me. You ended up breaking your promise, which I should have expected, you’re no Iyrman.”

Jonn remained silent. It was a small ask to be shamed in front of the Iyrmen, as he did behave poorly to Adam.

“Your reasoning was that I would not have kept to my word, which was rich, coming from an Oathbreaker.” Adam chuckled. “You asked me if I was good enough to have oaths sworn to, but I think that you should understand, right? It’s not whether I’m good enough to have oaths sworn to, but whether you’re good enough for me to accept your oaths.”

Jonn remained calm and still, like water. He had embarrassed himself enough, and this was nothing. Adam was correct, and he was pretty sure that Adam was half joking, and though he was being shamed, that wasn’t the point.

“I don’t care too much about that, though. I’ve kept you around this entire time since you’ve been useful, and there’s nothing more to it than that. I don’t expect you to swear your oaths to me, and I don’t expect you to keep to your word. I don’t expect much out of you, to be honest, other than to understand that you should have a certain level of usefulness to me. Like every relationship, it’s transactional, right?”

Jonn was only able to reply with a bow of his head.

“You asked me before to fight with you. I beat you up already, so I didn’t care about fighting you, but right now, I think it’s fine to fight you.” Adam unstrapped the axe at his side and held it out to Jurot. “This time we’ll fight. We’ll use our skill and our magic. We won’t rely on better armour, as I had previously, and we won’t rely on magical weapons.”

Sonarot unstrapped the axe which she wore against her side, and handed it to Adam. The blade was hidden behind leather, so Lanarot couldn’t hurt herself against it. Adam thanked her and stepped up to the square.

“Last time there was a lot of ambiguity. I had such a powerful sword, and you weren’t wearing the best gear possible. If you had plate mail, could I have beaten you? If we were both left to our own abilities, who would win? Sometimes I think about it, you know? I think about how strong I really am. Am I, Adam, strong? Or is it my weapons which are strong?”

Adam looked up towards the sky. There were clouds, but it was such a lovely blue. The blues faded in and out, but it reminded him of the blues which dotted his brother’s head, the blues which he wore.

“Can I beat you? Without any gimmicks, no magical weapon, no heavy armour, just my axe and my magic. Just how much is my conviction really worth if it’s based off of magical weapons and puthral plate mail?” Adam sighed, before raising his axe towards Jonn.

“If there comes a time I don’t have it, can I still fight? Can I still show fight when it matters most, when I want to show off in front of my adorable little sister?” Though Adam’s words had ended up light, he couldn’t change his tone to match. No matter how much Adam hid his worries behind a veneer of humour, there were still things which bothered him. He understood that there would be times he wouldn’t be able to fight with everything available to him, it was why he decided to take the damage increase to his bare fists as part of his abilities, rather than making his weapons and armour more powerful.

Jonn stared at the only other Half Elf in the Iyr. He, who had been abandoned by his Order, had walked around the land. He had been lost, and when he came face to face with Adam, he lost, not just the bout, but any purpose and pride he held.

Adam was not quite so prideful.

‘No,’ Jonn thought.

It wasn’t that Adam wasn’t prideful, and though he would constantly say and do things that portrayed him like an idiot, it was that his pride was secure. His pride for the Rot family, giving up the freedom to use the weapon he most enjoyed using, and his pride for his sister, even if it meant he would act like a fool.

Everything outside of that was irrelevant.

What did Jonn have pride for? His Elvish blood? That he was once part of an Order? That he was an Expert when he was so young? All of these paled in comparison to Adam’s achievements so far, but Adam didn’t take much pride in any of these things. Even being an Expert, it was merely a means to an end, and was only indirectly related to his pride.

Adam’s pride was his family and friends.

Jonn had watched Adam for months. He had seen Adam give away weapons, magical weapons, which he spent thousands of gold on, one of which had been given up by some mysterious figure who he was uncertain of, and yet he knew that blade was something even the King would covet. All Adam wanted to do was to stay within the Iyr to take care of his sister, though Jonn wasn’t sure why, he understood that it came from a place of loss too.

Adam had lost before, Jonn was certain of that. Not just to Jarot, which he would often grumble about, but a greater loss.

Jonn’s greatest pride was himself, what he was, what he had accomplished.

Adam’s greatest pride was his sister, who did not share even a single drop of the same blood.

‘Could I have the same pride?’ Jonn wondered, drawing his sword. A reason to live beyond himself, one which he had lost all that time ago when he had been abandoned. Adam chose his pride, and had stuck to it. Jonn may have been abandoned, but he had abandoned his oaths too, something he could have held even after being abandoned by his order.

Would Adam abandon his sister if the Iyr abandoned him?

Jonn hadn’t been sure about Adam all that time ago, but he was certain of the answer now.