Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Look!” the chubby little boy said, holding up his blanket, blue, like his elder brother’s, but the pattern within was slightly different, for it was a blanket his aunt had knitted for him. “My blanket!”

“It is a good blanket,” Jarot agreed, the old man brushing the boy’s cheek, staring down at his youngest grandson, who was built so well. Indeed, this child was his grandson, who he adored so much. This boy, who enjoyed spending time with his grandfather, who wished to sit on his lap, to cuddle, to slumber together, for he was so young, too young, though perhaps at this time, the young man would form memories of spending time with his grandfather.

The old man thought about his first memory, to his grandmother, who held the same name as his greatdaughter. Compared to his greatdaughter, the woman was so sweet and affectionate, though he was certain she would like the girl. There were few he had listened to in his youth, and though sometimes even his grandmother could not control him, she had the greatest chance to get him to listen.

‘Jarot, how can you worry your father like this?’ the old woman had said, though it was difficult to remember the sound of her voice.

The little Jarot, who must have been three or four at the time, was covered in paint, as well as much of the wall and floor around him. He blinked innocently before cackling at his grandmother, for even as a boy he knew not to make a mess, but he was who he was, so what did they expect?

No.

That wasn’t his first memory.

‘Look, Jarot,’ his mother had said, as the boy had stormed over with his blanket, half torn apart, soggy at the seams, for he had bitten it viciously to tear it apart. The little Jarot had grinned so wide, and then when he saw the little bundle within his mother’s arms he blinked.

‘That is your little brother,’ his father had said.

The boy had understood what it meant back then. He had sat down and watched over his brother for hours, deep in thought. It was one of the only times the boy had been so quiet and tame. Even when his younger brother, Tarot, had been born, he had been a storm, though he had held Sarot’s hand, and had told the little Sarot what it meant to be an older brother.

‘We have to protect, okay?’ the little Jarot had said, for though he was a beast of an Iyrman, he was still an Iyrman.

Jarot thought of his brother, who had died just a few years ago for the Iyr, and then of Tarot, who had left in order to fill the void that was the failure of his eldest brother, and the honour of his elder brother.

‘They would have loved you dearly too,’ Jarot thought, for the children had been too young by the time he had gone. He took in the sight of little Murot, who Sarot had not seen, for the boy had been born the year after. Jarot was glad his grandsons were so well behaved, so unlike him, for that may have been best, while the old man was just a ghost of his former self, a memory, a tale long diminished to the point that someone who dare to kill one of his own.

Mulrot sat beside the old man, causing Murot to squeal, the boy reaching up for his grandmother, who lifted him up, planting a kiss on his cheek, causing the boy to giggle. He cuddled up to her bosom and sucked on his thumb, her gentle hand against his back soothing him further.

“What has you so upset?”

“Am I upset?”

“I will stab you,” Mulrot warned.

Jarot let out a long sigh, closing his eyes, the old man clenching his fist, relaxing it a moment later. “Should I go find Surot?”

“He will return when he returns,” Mulrot said, for this was perhaps the first time they had spoken of Surot since he left so many years ago. It was around the time when Jurot was about to step out officially when Surot decided he needed to go fight.

‘I do not yet have a reputation,’ Surot had stated simply for his reason to leave.

It was true, in the same way Gorot barely had a reputation, though he was a Master. Surot had left often to adventure, but it was with a group of Iyrmen, a rarity for the Iyr, though it had allowed Mirot to gain great strength.

What could have happened for Surot to not send word for over half a decade?

If the old man was thinking about Surot, then it must have been because he was just that dour, Mulrot thought, which meant…

“Kavgak,” Taygak called, causing the girl to glance her way, about to close the box to put away the toys. “Well done.”

Kavgak smiled slightly, her cheeks warm with fuzziness as her cousin complimented her. Tavgak looked up towards her sister, who picked her up.

“You are so big now, Tavgak,” Taygak said, holding her younger sister up, the pair blinking between another. “I did not give you permission.”

The girl flushed too, a small pout forming on her lips, but the pout disappeared as Taygak kissed her sister’s forehead.

‘Why is she sad when I say it?’ Taygak thought, not understanding she was a stone faced Iyrman, and the girl did not quite understand unless she revealed more of an expression.

A tight grip upon her sleeve distracted her, as Maygak tugged on her sleeve, before turning to point towards Faygak, who stood awkwardly, staring down at her empty cup.

“Faygak, juice?” Taygak asked.

The girl looked up, blinking, her lips forming a wide smile, handing the cup to her elder sister, who let out a gentle sigh, since her little sister was too shy, but at the same time, she was too cute to reprimand. Thankfully, Maygak always looked out for her, as Kavgak would look out for them all.

Jaygak, too, had looked after her and her siblings, and now it seemed like her younger sister was looking after them.

‘…’

Taygak brought back juice for all four, who were so well behaved, the girls waiting for their elder sister, their elder cousin, to return. As Taygak sipped her own juice with them, she noted Kavgak was looking out towards the trio as they drank, to make sure they were okay.

‘Kavgak…’ Taygak thought. Since she was a girl, Kavgak had been the biggest, even surpassing Gurot, the girl taking on the role as their leader, in the sense she watched out for them all. Though sometimes Minakan did not appreciate it, for she preferred to remain by herself, even she would allow Kavgak to watch over her… sometimes.

Maygak, too, was similar, but had not been able to bloom in the same way, for Kavgak watched over her younger sister well, but…

“Kavgak,” Taygak called, causing the girl to look up at her elder cousin. She closed her eyes as Taygak rubbed the top of her head, fixing her ribbon. “You have worked hard.”

Kavgak inhaled sharply and smiled, revealing her tiny pearly while teeth, her eyes squinting slightly towards her elder cousin.

‘Kavgak, do not worry,’ Taygak thought. ‘I will clear a path!’

“Taygak,” called a voice, causing her to snap her head towards him, even the little Gaks turned to face him. He was a silver fox of a man, chiselled jaw, grey hair flowing down towards his shoulders, a flail at his side. “Come.”

Taygak brought the children to her mother, following the Front Iyr Elder a moment later, the figure who wore a glint of blueish silver over his chest, that which claimed him to be Mithril Rank within the Adventurer’s Guild, at least a Grandmaster. The Front Iyr Elder walked around the outer road, allowing the teen to follow him, stretching her legs from sitting so much.

“It is good you are watching over them,” Lykan said. “That is why I have come to speak with you.”

“Yes?”

“You are now ready to watch over the four, to nurture them,” Lykan informed. “You will remain with your sisters and cousins and teach them.”

“I must work,” Taygak said, for she knew of her strength, and that was that she was quite strong, great at manual labour.

“No,” Lykan replied, stopping. He turned to face the teen, who was related to her, in the sense he was a Kan and she was a Gak. “You are now entrusted with this task, Taygak. It is important.”

“Okay,” Taygak replied, since it was important.

‘She will most likely refuse,’ Elder Zijin had said. ‘She may not know it, but she will fear the idea. You must explain it is important.’

Lykan considered his conversation with the Elder, who had already begun planting the trees for the next generation. If he had gone so far as to reveal what he had written within his book, could he refuse?

‘I should consider more training,’ Lykan thought.