[1437] – Y06.337 – Training II
"You?” Jarot replied, his eyes full of viciousness towards the one who spoke up, for how dare he step into the discussion?
“Is there an issue if I train them?” Malfev asked, brushing his beard gently, narrowing his eyes towards the Mad Dog.
“You do not know our way.”
“The foundations are the same.”
“Did you strike your head?”
“A strong heart, a strong body, and while she is young, anyone with the right skill, the right knowledge, the right experience, is able to teach her,” Malfev refuted.
Jarot let out a growl of a groan in response, his eyes still narrowing.
“I will also train my grandnephew’s eldest five, for-,” Malfev said, pausing upon seeing the Mad Dog’s eyes. The Mad Dog had threatened him countless times, beyond countless time, but this time, Malfev was within the old man’s sight. “It is best.”
“Best? Do you speak to me as though I do not know what is best for my greatchildren?” Jarot’s entire body tensed up, his eyes growing wide, delirious with the need to spill blood. “If you have no need for it, shall I cut off your head?”
“…”
“Granduncle,” Jurot spoke up, taking a half step in front of his grandfather, stepping between the old men. “I will also assist.”
“You already have many to teach within the business,” Malfev replied, holding up a hand to refuse, for though Jurot’s want to calm the situation was admirable, Jarot needed to hear it. “I will teach them, those who enjoy holding onto me as I leap from leaf to leaf, those adorable greatchildren of ours.”
“You!” Jarot snarled, taking a step forward, his metal leg striking the stone beneath. “Do you think with one arm and one leg I cannot kill you?”
“If you had both arms and legs, I may worry, but a Mad Dog whose fangs have dulled-,” Malfev began, only for Jarot to draw his axe and leap forward, the bald man reaching for his spear, though he stopped, as Jurot’s axe hooked onto his grandfather’s, the pair both red hot with rage.
Jarot had forgotten.
Jurot’s natural strength had reached the peak, back when he had gone to fight in the nightval tournament, the year before the disaster. The young man was no longer a boy, he was, as Jarot had stated himself not a short while ago, a Master. Though Jarot was still more powerful than his grandson, in five, maybe ten years, the young man would surpass him, he was certain of it.
“You have grown,” Jarot said, the pair clashing for a moment, and though the old man’s heart was full of fury, he only fought his grandson to calm his heart, not to hurt the young man, who was difficult to harm, even for the Mad Dog.
As the Rage Dancers stopped, sets of footsteps distracted them, a little girl had heard the pleasant sound of steel upon steel, her lips pursed up with innocence, her eyebrows raised in expectation, her eyes scanning between her brother and her grandfather.
“You are fighting?” Lanarot asked, her eyes glistening with expectation, her lips pursed in delight.
“No,” Jurot replied.
“Aw…” The girl’s lips formed a small pout.
Jurot gripped his axe a little tighter, considering that he may as well, since his sister wished to see.
“How can I fight, this old man who is so weak, when your brother is so strong?” Jarot said, stashing away his axe, reaching for his heart, peeking down at the girl expectantly.
“Brother, are you bullying grandfather?” Lanarot accused, holding up a finger, in the way of her niece, though this girl, of all the children, could wield it without even a moment of hesitation.
“No.”
“Grandfather, did you deserve it?” Lanarot asked, since her brother was not bullying her grandfather, but certainly it was right for him to do so.
Jarot leaned back slightly, and though he would normally roar with laughter, he inhaled sharply, feeling how difficult it was to breathe, before letting out a soft sigh. “Yes.”
“Oh dear,” Lanarot said, reaching up to her forehead, swiping her hair back, her pin shifting slightly within her hair. “What am I to do with you?”
The Mad Dog turned hot red once more, so the tears would not slip, the old man approaching his granddaughter, the girl not afraid in the slightest as her grandfather danced within his rage, allowing him to pick her up, instead hugging his neck, resting her head under his chin. The old man carried her back to the Front Iyr, no longer red hot with rage, no longer did the tears threaten to fall, for he looked towards the sky, knowing his tears would slip should he see them.
“Babo, you are okay?” called the tiny voice, not realising just how much her affection troubled her greatfather.
No.
How could it trouble him?
“I am just tired, my dear,” Jarot said, holding his granddaughter close, approaching the vague form of a chair.
“Okay, babo, you sit down, I bring you some tea, papa will bring you a blanket, and kaka will read you a story,” Jirot said, conducting the symphony of slumber for her greatfather, who, though not pregnant, should also be comfortable, since he was so old, because he was the father to her grandmother, who was like her own father’s mother, she thought, who was her own father, and she had no children, so she was still young, so she must help her elders.
“Jirot, did you bully babo too much?” Adam asked, his attention returning to the world, his son having taken him to another world where he was too busy blowing raspberries into his son’s stomach.
“Just a little bit, daddy, just a little bit,” Jirot replied, as though her father mentioning it was ridiculous, like she couldn’t bully her babo a little?
“Alright, well, don’t bully babo too much, okay?”
Jirot side eyed her father incredulously, though fortunately for her, her eldest sister stepped forward towards the half elf, shaking her head.
“Kaka did not bully, yet,” Konarot informed.
Adam side eyed his daughter incredulously, though fortunately for her, he instantly gave in, since Konarot was so well behaved, the girl returning back to her sister, placing a hand on her back gently, rubbing it, swiftly going off to find a book to read for her babo.
“Brother,” Lanarot called, rushing up to Adam, looking up towards him, and then to Xarot who looked down towards her. She smiled, causing the boy to smile in return. “I will change Xarot’s clothy today.”
“You silly girl, I’m going to be cleaning his clothy, you need to make sure he eats properly when it’s time to eat, alright?”
“Okay, okay,” the girl replied, patting her brother’s leg gently, waddling off to say the same about Monarot, only for her grandmother to distract her on the way. Lanarot narrowed her eyes towards the older woman, reaching up to accept the tiny little ball of red, chewing it slowly. “Thank you.”
Mulrot smiled, reaching down to poke the girl’s nose, causing her to cackle, fleeing to her mother a moment later.
The children surrounded the old man, who had calmed his heart, allowing his greatchildren to spoil him that day. His eldest greatdaughter read to him on his lap, while Kirot and Karot cuddled at his sides. Jirot and Jarot sat at below, wanting to hear the tale from their sister. Virot had seen Jirot had gone to sit and listen to a tale, so she had scampered her way over, Damrot following after, listening politely.
Adam held the chonky Gurot within his arms, the pair staring between one another, slowly beginning to smile together. Adam leaned in to nuzzle his cousin’s nose, the boy pulling back, snorting into laughter. The half elf then threatened to toss him up, only to grunt in feigned pain.
“Perhaps Kizwolima is your sister?”
Gurot laughed, as though he understood the joke, laughing even harder when Adam realised he had meant Amal, the young man grinning wide towards the half elf with his huge smile.
“You know, when you were just a tiny boy, you would eat up all my food, but you were so well behaved, and when Murot was just a baby, you would feed him yourself,” Adam said, causing the boy to laugh. “Once Turot is back, I’ll tell him how much you’ve been watching over your little brother.”
Gurot flushed lightly, his smile widening, widening further still as he saw his cousin’s smile.
“I have a small favour of you Gurot, will you do it?”
“Yes!”
“Okay, firstly, you should always ask to hear the favour first, since you are an Iyrman and your word is gold, but secondly…”
Gurot waddled up to his grandfather, holding a tray of snacks, placing them on his lap before climbing up beside him, reaching down to pick one up in order to feed the old man. “Baba, it is time to eat.”
Jarot’s eyes fell to Adam, whose eyes darted from Gurot to Jarot, then quickly turned towards his daughter, as though she were currently causing trouble, when she obviously wasn’t, though if she did, who could dare deny her right to cause trouble?
“Did you wash your hands?” Jarot asked.
Gurot nodded, feeding the old man a piece of fruit. “Baba, you are kaza Adam’s baba too.”
Jarot almost choked on the piece of fruit, for of course it would be Mulrot’s son who would kill him.
PATREON LINK
Gurot knows what's up.
“Baba, you are kaza Adam’s baba too.”