“Brother,” Sonarot called, smiling towards her brother. The children around saw Tonagek, who they saw a few times a year, though Turot saw him at least once monthly, and quickly greeted him.

“Uncle,” the children all called, before swarming around him.

“It is good to see you all,” Tonagek said, ruffling the children’s hair, before letting them all go. “You as well, sister.”

Sonarot hugged him tight, as she had done for the last few times they had met. “It is good to see you too.” She brushed his hair, smiling warmly at her brother.

The pair sat down in a corner to speak to one another, the other Iyrmen leaving them be. They remained silent, avoiding the awkward topic at hand.

“It is still a surprise to me,” Tonagek said, reaching for a cup of wine. “We siblings are the Family Heads of our respective families. You, who gave up the right to the Gek family to me, then became the Family Head of the Rot family.”

“Until my husband returns,” Sonarot said.

“Is he considered missing?”

“If he does not send word by the end of this year,” Sonarot confirmed.

“An awkward time for the Iyr…” Tonagek leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink.

“Adam spoke of his meeting with you,” Sonarot said.

“Your Nephew?”

“Our nephew,” Sonarot countered, making sure he understood what Adam was.

Tonagek remained silent for a long moment. “He promised to repay the debt.”

“You will call for it?”

“I may.”

Sonarot raised her brow towards her brother, as if daring him to try and call for the debt to be repaid.

“I was going to adopt them,” Tonagek said. “If our suspicions were dealt with, then I was going to bring them into my family. I had lost a son, and had assisted in finding the three…”

Sonarot could see the hurt in his eyes. He had told her what had happened, speaking in great detail. It was Gortol who had seen what had truly happened, and he had informed her of what he had seen when he had arrived, some time before the boy’s own father.

“You are fortunate to adopt him into your family,” Tonagek said. “The children, too.”

“He has adopted Goblin children as well.”

“Have you accepted them?” Tonagek asked, staring at his sister with a curious look. The pair had spoken about Adam several times, Tonagek making his displeasure well known, though he relented to Sonarot’s wisdom.

“I have.”

Tonagek bowed his head, accepting that he could say nothing in regards to such a thing. He remained silent for a moment, thinking about Adam. “When I saw him, I was uncertain of him. He spoke so freely, so casually, as though he did not think before he uttered his words. He was too carefree to be an Iyrman, I had thought.”

Sonarot remained silent, sipping her milk while her brother sipped another cup of wine.

“When I spoke the tale to him, and he saw the wounds on his daughter…” Tonagek stared at the table, but he was looking back in time. “He embraced them tenderly, but they did not see the look on his face.”

“What was the look on his face?”

“It was a look which could only be described as terrifying,” Tonagek admitted. “Perhaps he is more of an Iyrman than I thought.”

Sonarot smiled, before a shout carried through to the estate, causing the pair to stand, and the other adults quickly took their positions around the children, ready to draw their weapons.

Sonarot paused for a moment, only to quickly march her way out of the estate, realising who could have been the subject of such a shout. She blinked, trying to understand how the scene came to be.

It was silent for a moment, before Lanarot’s joyous glee cut through. She clapped her hands excitedly, squealing as she watched both of her brothers wielding their axes out in front of her. She reached for an axe, only for Strom to pull her back, with the axes pushing closer towards the Lord of Flames.

“Jurot, Adam,” Sonarot called, trying to gain their attention, though the young men remained with their axes out. However, her voice had calmed Jurot from his rage, though he remained, stiff and tense.

“Put away your axes,” Iromin said, calmly, his eyes dancing between the pair.

Adam’s eyes were glued to Shama’s. “Lanarot, come,” he called, causing her to look over to him. His axe had disappeared, and he held out his arms for the girl, who reached towards him, calling for him. He held her in his arms, away from Shama’s touch, who had reached out to touch the girl moments ago. In that moment, both Jurot and Adam had swung for him.

“Young man, do you think you can-,”

“Yes,” Adam replied, simply. “You might be an Emperor where you come from, but this is the Iyr. Don’t think you can act as you please.”

The utter audacity of Adam’s statement caused Iromin’s face to twitch ever so slightly. “Adam, Lord Shama is a Guest of the Iyr.”

“I’m sure he is, but he’s also someone who hurt my little Lanababy’s brothers, and he killed Lanababy’s favourite Demon,” Adam said. “He was also someone who dared to raise his blade against someone who was protected by the Iyr within the Iyr. Who knows why he tried to reach for my little sister?”

Shama was taken aback by the words. They were so full of nonsense, his mind fell blank as he tried to form a response. Even the Chief, who was used to Adam’s antics, wasn’t sure what to say. Technically, the logic was sound, but it was obviously not right.

Lucy tilted her head slightly, but swallowed her shock. Mara hadn’t expected Adam to start a fight with such a powerful foe, though she, herself, had done so not long before.

“You don’t want him to touch you, do you?” Adam asked, brushing the girl’s hair. “Do you want papa?”

“Papa,” the girl replied, affirmatively. She wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, and sucked on her thumb.

“See?”

Iromin’s brow twitched. “Jurot. How could you raise your axe against a Guest of the Iyr?”

Jurot remained silent for a moment, thinking. His body had reacted without him even thinking about it. When he saw Shama reach for his sister, there was such a great sense of disgust which had filled him. “Adam is correct.”

Sonarot blinked, catching Iromin’s eyes for a moment, before she quickly stepped forward. “Jurot, you cannot raise your axe against a Guest.” Her voice was firm, like a steel blade.

Jurot dipped his head in shame, placing Phantom back at his side. “Yes, mother.”

“Adam, you cannot raise your axe against a Guest,” Sonarot said, not losing her tone.

“Yes, Aunt,” Adam replied.

His three children stepped back, hiding deeper behind their father.

“Lord Shama, you cannot touch my daughter,” Sonarot stated, with the same tone of voice she had used to reprimand the young men.

Adam shot his eyebrows up, taken by the surprise which had taken the nearby Iyrmen when he had raised his axe towards the Guest.

Shama’s eyes remained focused on Sonarot’s, who did not let up. She stood tall and proud, the perfect example of a Family Head. She had not forced her views on the extended family, but if it was against an Emperor, she had no qualms with stating proper business.

“Do not mistake my meekness for weakness,” Shama said, his eyes narrowing. “If you continue to disrespect me, not eve Soz-,” Shama felt a staff press against the side of his neck. The black wood was cool to his skin.

“Do not mistake our meekness for weakness,” the old woman said. “We have allowed you to partake in our festival, but if you wish to continue to disrespect us, we will return your bon-,”

“Enough!” Iromin shouted.

Lanarot shook in Adam’s arms, before she looked to her brother, and her face contorted. Adam quickly passed the crying girl to her mother, who began to soothe her to sleep.

Iromin’s eyes fell to the old woman, who had dared to place her staff on the neck of a Guest. “Put away your staff.”

The old woman pulled her staff back, confirming that the Chief truly could command her. Iromin’s shoulders slumped with relief. He had not known whether this mysterious Iyrman would have listened to him truly, but at the very least she seemed to respect his authority as Chief.

“Is this how the Iyr will treat me?” Shama asked, narrowing his eyes at the Chief.

“You may continue to enjoy the festival,” Iromin said, motioning a hand for him to step aside, with Shaool and Zardon flanking him once more. The old woman stepped aside, though she was ready to follow the group.

Shama remained still, pondering on his next actions. There was no way they expected him to just step aside after everything which had happened.

“Stop ruining the festival,” Hadda said.

“Will there be no justice for me?” Shama asked.

“Justice? Didn’t you already beat them on the way here? What are you talking about?”

“Strom, or Hadda, I suppose?” Adam said, staring up at Hadda with Turot’s incredulousness painted across his face.

“What?”

“I don’t think Lanarot should hang around you any longer,” the Half Elf said.

“What?” Hadda asked, taken aback by the sudden sentiment.

“I can’t believe you lose a hundred islands to…” Adam looked to Shama, and then back to Hadda. “I think, perhaps, Lanarot needs some better influences around her.”

Iromin shut his eyes tight. ‘Should I let him die?’