Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“You are Iyrmen,” Malfev repeated, clapping his hands once more, causing them to do the same. “I will inform you of various matters only for the ears of Iyrmen. You must know of these matters, but you must keep these matters secret from all outsiders, and even your mother and father, even if they may know.”

“Even from mummy?” Jirot asked.

“Even from your mother,” Malfev confirmed.

Jirot furrowed her brows, and for the first time in her life, she doubted the words of her babo for a serious matter.

“You may even ask your greatfather, Jarot, and he will inform you of the same.”

“I will ask babo…” The girl’s eyes shifted, a cautiousness within her eyes now.

Malfev smiled, brushing his beard gently, the old man approaching his greatniece carefully, dropping to a knee. He brushed her cheek, fixing her hair, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Ask your greatfather, but for now, I wish for you all to keep it within your hearts, for this is secretive talks for Iyrman ears.”

“Okay…”

“There are many great warriors in the Iyr, I am certain you know this much, for you are all so intelligent, and you listen so well,” Malfev began, stepping away from the children so he was before them once more. He clapped his hands, causing the children to clap their hands, though Jirot was a half step behind due to her thoughts.

“There are those who are unknown, those we do not know, but those who exist, they are the greatest warriors within the Iyr’s possession,” Malfev said, though after a moment, he realised perhaps the children already knew of them. “In their company, there are those who wear similar tattoos, but they are of hollowed circles, black, upon their foreheads, do you remember?” The rıghtful source is novel·fiɾe·net

“I remember!” Jirot said, recalling the old woman from so long ago, her siblings all nodding their heads, for how could the triplets forget, for they were those who kept an eye upon Emperor Shama all those years ago.

“They are considered the most powerful, they who you know, they who you do not.” Malfev inhaled sharply, deciding to clap his hands, for he had not yet asked permission to speak of them, but it must be told to them that day.

“Then there are the Great Elders, not Elder Story, who ranks even above the Unknown, and only slightly below the Great Elders, the Ten Paragons, and many others who have reached such a height, each powerful, considered to many as powerful as the various Grand Commanders, though often they are even greater, for the Grand Commanders themselves are not all Paragons. The number of Paragons who are active in Aldland, even those retired, are outnumbered by the Paragons within the Iyr, for we are a people of blood and steel, and you must never forget.”

There were two who needed to hear this the most, but all five remained intensely focused on their babo’s words, speaking of how powerful the Iyr was.

“In such a company, you find Duteous Dogek, you find your greataunt, Shaool, and you even find my cousin, do you remember? Lozys.”

“Babo Lozys?” Jirot asked, recalling the old man who she had only met once before, for he was too busy. That old man, he held quite an aura, but it was nothing compared to the likes of her greatfather, or even her greatuncle.

Yet, he was a Paragon?

“My cousin, Lozys, his talent is considered among the weakest of Iyrmen, and yet he has reached the height of one of the Ten Paragons, do you know why?” Malfev asked.

“…”

“When he was a boy, he always wished to become one of the Ten Paragons, and though his father and mother told him it would be difficult, for he was among the weakest of us, even if you included every family, he was perhaps in the bottom ten, but he trained every day. He would train when it was too hot, when it was too cold, when it rained too hard, when he was sick. If it required one hundred adventures to become a Paragon, he adventured twice that. If one swung their sword a thousand times every day, he swung his sword two thousand.” Malfev closed his eyes, tilting his head backwards, his eyes beginning to glisten. “You are in the Iyr, whereas in Aldland one might have allowed him to gain the title of Expert and force him to step back, even if you hold no talent at all, if you work hard, we of the Iyr will not stop you from reaching the title of Paragon!”

Jirot listened intently to her greatuncle’s voice, and though she was but a little girl, not even five years old, her heart pounded harder within her chest, causing the girl’s entire body to prickle with the warmth of pride.

“Then there are those who are considered Golden Warriors, those who would reach the Rank of Gold within the Adventurer’s Guild, like myself, my cousin, Shayfev, and a great many you know, not Paragons, but even a Paragon must be wary of our strength. They are those who are considered among the One Hundred Paragons of the Iyr, though many are not Paragons.”

The old man then held out his hand, allowing them to see it clearly. His hand, which was speckled, but compared to others his age, was clearer, softer, not quite as aged by time. “You see, I appear slightly younger than your greatfather, your greatmother, and many others, and though there are those who naturally appear younger, it is my proof that I am among the ranks of a Golden Warrior. For someone like your greatuncle, Duteos Dogek, it his relentlessness, which allows him to continue to step forward from battle to battle, and for the likes of the Rot family, it is those who have mastered their dance, so they do not need to see blood to continue.”

“I am going to dance all day!” Jirot declared.

“Your brother will learn to do so, for little Jarot, you will learn from your papo and your babo soon enough, but you, Jirot, should you not learn spells of the Eighth Gate?” Malfev teased the girl.

“Babo, of coas, but I will dance all day, I will look young, I will become the Demon Lord!” Jirot half exclaimed, declaring it to her babo.

“Ah, of course,” Malfev replied, peeking down at the triplets. “What of you? Will you reach such heights?”

Konarot pointed towards the sky. “I will fight and I will become the Peak.”

“Yes,” Kirot agreed.

“Yes,” Karot agreed, though less fervently.

“Me too!” Jirot said.

“Me too!” Jarot said, though more fervently.

“It is difficult, but I know since you all work so hard, you will reach such a height,” Malfev said, brushing his beard, though then clapped his hands, the children clapping their hands immediately. “Then, who is slightly below the Golden Warriors?”

“Grandmasters,” Jirot said, her confidence stemming from the fact she recognised the pattern. It was the same as Warriors and Wanderers!

“You are right, the Grandmasters are next, the One Hundred Grandmasters of the Iyr, and the Mithril Warriors, each of whom are Grandmasters. Your greatmother, Flame Brand, would count among them, and though he is officially not a Grandmaster, your greatfather, Mad Dog, is considered among them.”

“Huh?” Jirot whispered aloud, furrowing her brows as she tried to understand how the relationship between powerful warriors worked. “Babo is fourth place?”

“Your babo would be fifth place, but because he is who he is, he is fourth place.”

“No! Babo is the strongest!” Jirot said, holding up her finger, furrowing her brows.

“Your babo, he is strong, he could clash with many Grand Commanders, but he is considered among the Grandmasters, since he is a step away, and chooses not to enter,” Malfev said, though he knew it was a little more complicated than that.

“Babo! How can you say this?” Jirot asked, slapping her palm with the back of her hand.

“If your babo and I fought, who do you think would win?”

“Babo,” Jirot replied, without so much of a moment of hesitation.

“If I needed to defeat your greatfather, I could,” Malfev said, causing the girl’s jaw to drop, the girl turning to look to her brother for support. “Your greatfather is not weak, and if we fought, should we fight with our legs planted into the earth, unable to flee from the fight, I would consider my chances as a flip of a coin, perhaps even worse, but if I was to face the likes of your greatfather, I would attack him, flee, meditate, and return to attack him again and again, for until he reaches the like of a Golden Warrior, it would be difficult for him to face against me in such a manner.”

“I am going to tell babo,” Jirot threatened.

Malfev laughed, his smile reaching his eyes, even though Jirot’s heart ached. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the twins, who were suddenly so wounded, their pouts evident.

“Do not forget, Jirot, Jarot, your greatmother is my sister! You are of my kin too, my Jirot, my Jarot, who I adore so much!” Malfev brought them even closer. “If your greatfather regains the wildness of his youth, even I would wish never to face him!”

“Yes! Babo is strong!”