Omen: 8, 9

Adam’s stress level had increased almost tenfold, wondering how they could guide the babies forward. They were newborn, and as such, were prone to dying at the whims of a sneeze.

“You have no need to worry,” the Orcish Iyrman said, forming a sling made of cloth, before resting the tiny babies within the sash, letting them rest between his chest and robes.

“You have to be careful, Okvar,” Adam said, nervously.

“The children will be safe,” Okvar assured. They were safe within his reach, and he and Rasam would allow none to harm them.

The journey forward was slow with the babies, who would often cry to feed, and would need to be cleaned constantly. Adam’s magic worked wonders on their clothies, but Adam wondered if they should be soiling themselves so much. The babies would remain asleep, the rhythmic movement of Okvar’s body coaxing them to sleep much of the day.

The stars were already out by the time they had arrived at the village, the torches lit near the gates. There were three people on duty, keeping a watch out for trouble, and when they saw the mass of strangers, the guards quickly grabbed their spears and stood tall to appear menacing.

“Oh!” a guard called out. “Iyrmen! Iyrmen are here!”

Adam ran up towards them, causing them to jolt upwards, before they grabbed their spears. “Be quiet, damn it! We’ve got babies with us!”

The shrieks of two newborn Goblins filled the air, all the while the guards noted the tiny figures against the Iyrman’s chest, flushing red with embarrassment. “How was I supposed to know?”

Adam sighed, but very quickly the group were allowed in, with the familiar face of Chief Merl poking out.

“You’re back so soon?” Merl asked, noting the familiar faces. She had seen them off not a couple of months ago, and she was certain they had planned to leave for a long while.

“Yeah,” Adam replied, simply. He wasn’t sure how much he should say. “Has the village been well?”

“We have been well and safe, what with all the Iyrmen moving through,” Merl replied, noting the group. Her eyes fell across Okvar’s chest, and she almost gave away her confusion, but with the practise of an elder, she kept her face neutral. “Why don’t you all come to the fire? We have another guest here today.”

‘That doesn’t bode well,’ Adam thought, instantly on edge.

There was laughing in the distance as an older man sipped some tea, before he continued his tale. “The fires lasted three days and three nights, and…” The old man stopped his tale, glancing over towards the new group who had appeared within the village.

The Iyrmen were tense, and though Okvar continued to gently sway the children, they continued to cry. The old man’s eyes remained on Jurot for a long while, and Adam followed the sight, only to see Jurot.

“Jurot?” Adam asked.

Jurot’s eyes remained focus on the stranger, and he could see nothing else around them. He felt an invisible pressure against his shoulders which pressed him down, though it did not exude from the figure, but rather, it came from deep within him. The darkness in his heart encroached once more.

“Jurot?” Adam called, placing a hand on Jurot’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Jurot blinked, his eyes meeting Adam’s. “Yes.”

“Alright, so why don’t you put away your axe?” Adam stated, calmly.

Jurot looked down at Phantom, which he gripped tightly to the point his knuckles were white. He hadn’t recalled drawing it. The confusion set within his body. He had never drawn his axe without intent before. No, it wasn’t that he didn’t draw his axe out of intent, it was that it was a specific type of intent, one he wasn’t familiar with. He put Phantom away, and the other Iyrmen relaxed.

Adam glanced between the old man and then to Jurot. The old man was quite a handsome guy, but there was nothing which reminded Adam of anything.

‘Two Demons,’ the old man thought, his eyes scanning across the group. “I did not expect to see other outsiders,” he said, in Elvish. “Though, I suppose I’m not really an outsider since I was originally from these realms.”

“What do you mean?” Adam asked, speaking in curt Elvish, which would have been considered quite rude, but the old man started it first.

“Is there a need to ask?”

“You might not know this, old mister, but I’m an idiot,” Adam said, trying to lighten the air. “If you don’t speak bluntly, then I won’t understand.”

“There are three outsiders within your group,” the old man said, his eyes scanning across from Adam, to Mara, to Lucy.

Lucy began to sweat, wondering who this old man was. He definitely was talking about them being from outside this world, considering he picked only them three to look at. Mara stood ahead of Lucy, her hands crossed over her stomach, wondering if she needed to act. Unfortunately for her, her strength was no longer what it once was.

“How can you tell?” Adam asked, cautiously approaching the fire, before sitting opposite the old man. He made no threatening motion, though his eyes remained glued on the old man’s face, trying to figure out who he was. He was in his fifties or so, and he wore a breastplate, as well as a blade at his side. He seemed like a typical adventurer.

“You smell different,” the man said, smirking slightly, as though he made a great joke.

“So you must be a Dragon,” Adam replied, quickly.

“How can you tell?”

“You talk like the Dragons I’ve met.”

“How many Dragons have you met?” the old man asked, smelling the deep magics which permeated the area around them now that they all drew closer to sit at the fire.

“We’ve killed two, and there’s a friend of mine up north, as well as an old guy who is dying, and potentially another bastard who used fire.” Adam intertwined his fingers together, and his forearms twitched at the thought of the powerful old monster they had met.

The old man smiled. “That’s quite a number of Dragons.”

“Are you going to try and kill us?” Adam asked.

“Why would I do that?” The stranger tilted his head. “I am just here to enjoy the sights before I die.”

“Another Strom then?”

“Strom?”

“He’s an old guy, older than you, I think. He’s apparently a couple thousand years old, and was an Emperor of a place.” Adam shrugged his shoulders. “Uses lightning.”

‘Lightning? Is he one of those kids?’

Adam watched as the old man thought deeply, wondering who this old guy was. ‘Is he related to Strom in some way?’

“Perhaps I am a Dragon, but I’m just an old man now,” he said.

“What’s with you old monsters saying that sort of thing?” Adam grumbled quietly. ‘It does sound pretty cool, though. I hope I can be strong and old one day to say it.’

The villagers brought some food for Adam and the others, though Rasam took the Goblin children away to feed them. Kitool followed her, and with a word from Jaygak, Jurot left too. He had been tense the entire time, and Jaygak wasn’t sure if he was going to be okay around the old man.

‘Who are you?’ Jaygak thought. She hadn’t seen Jurot like that before, and she was certain Jurot had drawn his axe without meaning to. Her eyes fell to Adam, knowing it was his fault.

‘Damn it,’ Adam thought, certain he was at fault. However, the old man hadn’t made any moved towards them. ‘Is it because we’re so close to the Iyr?’

“There is no need to be so tense,” Asa said, drinking some more tea. “It seems you had some misfortune on your journey?”

“We met some old guy who completely bodied us,” Adam said.

“Bodied you?”

“He beat us up without breaking a sweat.” Adam shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Was it your first loss?” Asa asked, wondering if it was the boy’s pride speaking.

“No. My first loss was to a one armed old man who hadn’t been active in at least a decade.”

Asa smiled. “Yet this loss was worse?”

“At least I managed to fight for a while back then, but this time…” He shook his head. Adam glanced aside to his companions. “I was known to be a queer Half Elf. I mean, I’m not gay, so I don’t mean it that way.”

“You’re not?” Asa asked, barely able to contain his surprise. ‘Did Elves change while I was gone? Ah, he is an outsider, perhaps it does not work the same?’

Adam raised his brow. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not. Anyway, everyone here knows me as someone insane. I don’t work the same way as everyone else. From the way I think, to my abilities, everything about me is queer. I went from fight to fight, bodying everything, expect for that old geezer, and…” He shook his head. “I went down instantly.”

“You’re alive, so is there a need to dwell on it?”

“He killed my friend.”

“Ah.”

Adam sighed. “Anyway, I don’t appreciate you speaking of our secrets so candidly.”

“I am speaking Elvish, am I not?”

“Some people can speak it well enough, or they can use magic to comprehend it.”

“I would have noticed.”

“Either way, it’s quite rude.”

“Not quite as rude as you not introducing yourself.”

“Sorry,” Adam said in the common tongue. “I’m Adam, Fateson.”

‘That Fate?’ The thought invaded Asa’s mind. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Adam Fateson. You seem to have many stories to tell.”

“I could,” Adam said. “Though I’ve been rather open with you and you haven’t really talked about yourself.”

“I am more curious as to why there are two Goblins with you. They seem to be newly born, though I may be wrong. I am not an expert with such matters.”

“They were born yesterday. Their mother was half eaten by another Goblin, and we saved them. Well, one of us tried to kill them, but luckily they ended up thinking against it.”

“Why not kill them?” Asa asked.

“They’re babies.”

Asa remained quiet for some time. He burst out with laughter, almost crying. “Of course!” With those words, he understood how queer Adam was.