Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“My greatchildren, you have grown up so much, can I carry you?” Jarot asked, grunting quietly.

“Yes! You are so strong, babo,” Jirot replied, her eyes twinkling with expectation, the little girl beaming up towards her greatfather.

“Since you say so, it must be true,” the old man replied, lifting his greatson up onto his back, the boy wrapping his arms around his greatfather’s thick neck, then lifted the girl to his chest within an arm, for he trusted little Jarot to be sensible upon his back, while Jirot…

Jirot was Jirot.

Lucy kept an eye upon the twins, who had grown up so quickly. It felt like only yesterday the girl had been bullying her. Ah, well, she supposed that was fairly normal, but the girl had grown up with such bright eyes, and grew up with such confidence.

Recently, everything had changed.

‘They wish to slay me because I am a demon, yet was I the one to murder a child?’ Lucy thought, narrowing her eyes, feeling the heat of rage flushing through her once more. If only she could refine herself within the flames, not just any flames, and though she did not expect it to be the flames of her family, but the flames needed to hold some quality to it.

Damrot babbled away noisily towards Adam, then held up his hands, confused.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Yeah,” Damrot replied, nodding his head, before waddling away with Virot, who followed her elder kaka and papa, and her silly babo.

Tanagek, Tonagek, and Chosen each followed to keep an eye on the children, while the other old monsters gathered.

“Has he been like this long?” Shagek asked, for he had returned to find the Mad Dog had changed quite a lot, but even so, this was not the Mad Dog he recognised even a few years ago.

“You left after your grandchild was born, so you did not see it,” Shasen said, recalling how different the old man looked back then. “At that time…”

“My brother lost his life, but one could say the Mad Dog had died back then,” Gangak said, sipping her peach wine lightly. “I have seen him again, the Mad Dog of old, but time has come for him.”

“His fangs have dulled?” Shagek msued. “I have noticed his muscles are sharper now?”

“It is not his muscles, not his body, which requires healing,” Gangak replied simply.

Shagek recalled how Mad Dog had fought the previous year. He, half broken as he was, was still clashing with the likes of the Sun Sword, the figure who was once a Grand Commander. Jarot was one of the few who the Iyr could consider a Grandmaster, even if he was still officially a step away, even half dead as he was.

‘If you had continued…’ Shagek thought, sipping away at his wine, for the old man had once joked to the Mad Dog his heart was too weak, when he had decided to retire so early within the Iyr. The Mad Dog hadn’t even asked him to draw his sword at the time, but he had still drawn it to protect his neck. The Mad Dog he knew back then, so young, so wild, and yet he held within his eyes a promise. Though he had decided to marry and settle down, there would come a time he would step out. That time hadn’t been long after, for even as far as he had been, Shagek had heard Jarot had killed Forgryn, he and his companions, but to hear that his son, Farot, had passed away…

That Farot?

Farot, who the Mad Dog had held so dear to his heart?

Yes, it was then, Shagek had thought, the Mad Dog would return.

Except, when he had returned to the Iyr a few years ago, he had seen a half broken Mad Dog, whose fangs had dulled, whose heart had been broken, and though he had seen a ghost of a memory the previous year, the Mad Dog, he thought, had died long ago.

It was the Mad Dog Shagek mourned, for with the Mad Dog everyone had once known, the potential he had once possessed, the Iyr would be able to step onto the world stage more obviously. Yes, there was Duteous Dogek. Yes, there was Rajin, the Bearded Dragon. Yes, there was Butcher Marmak, who perhaps inherited the will of the Mad Dog in Aswadasad, but…

A child rushed up towards the old Iyrmen, the girl panting for air. “Grandmother, grandaunts, granduncles, I will bring some tea if you want it.”

“Lanarot, will you ask your brother to help you bring the tea?” Mulrot asked, reaching down to rub the girl’s cheek.

“I can do it myself! I am so big now, grandmother, look!” The girl said, reaching up to her head, then motioning above Mulrot’s head, as though the girl was taller than her grandmother.

“You should bring the cups, and your brother, he should bring the kettle and some company.”

“I can also bring company, grandmother,” Lanarot assured, pouting slightly.

“Yes, will you bring my granddaughter too?”

Lanarot furrowed her brows, before they shot up. “Yes! I can do it!”

It wasn’t long before they returned, Jurot holding the kettle, and a tray of cups, while Lanarot brought Amal, holding the girl within her arms, the girl’s front waddling around within her sister’s arms, looking out to the world. Lanarot huffed, placing the girl before her grandmother, reaching to her back, as though she were an old woman as she grumbled quietly to herself.

“Amalrot, you must appreciate the things I do for you as your elder sister,” Lanarot said.

“She must, since you are so sweet to her,” Mulrot said, reaching down to pinch her cheek once more, picking up her granddaughters, one by one, for one was six, and the other looked as though she were five. Gangak reached out for Amal, but the Rising Swallow held out a finger, as though ready to jab the woman in place.

“She was brought home by my grandson,” Gangak stated firmly.

“She is my granddaughter.”

“Lanarot, do you see?” Gangak asked.

Lanarot flushed slightly, unsure of whose side to take, the girl pouting lightly.

“I will hold them both if you continue to fight,” Jurot threatened, taking a moment to realise he was now a father.

“To think you have grown up so much,” Mulrot said, smiling towards the young. “When you were so small, you would sit so quietly within my arms, but now? You even speak to me in such a way?”

“They are my sisters,” Jurot replied, ready to verbally spar with his grandmother.

Shasen held Amalrot’s gaze, the girl staring up at him, for he was her granduncle too. He reached over with a finger, and the girl stared at it for a long moment, before shyly returning to her grandmother’s bosom.

“Do you see? She wishes to remain within my arms.” Murlot planted a kiss on Amalrot’s head, tender and sweet, for her granddaughter.

“Juju,” the girl called out, holding her arms out to Jurot, beginning to squirm.

“…”

Amalrot cuddled up to Jurot’s shoulder, the girl hiding away from the world, for if she could not see them, they could not see her, the little blue skinned girl sucking on her thumb silently.

“Brother is so oppressive,” Lanarot said, pouting, since she wanted to hold her little sister within her own arms.

“I can tell you are Adam’s sister,” Lamagak joked, causing the little girl to flush lightly, though her lips formed a coy smile, for yes, she was Adam’s little sister.

“She is my sister too,” Jurot stated.

“You are your father’s son,” Lamagak said, causing the young man to flush lightly. Whereas Lanarot was a little bit of a troublemaker, Jurot had been like Surot. Surot, who had been so well behaved, and Jurot, who had grown up equally as well behaved.

Jurot offered Amal cheese, the girl eagerly eating from his fingers, while the others continued to sip tea between one another. Amal did not refuse the food from her brother’s hands, although, that was not entirely special, since she would not refuse to eat from many hands.

“If your tales are so amazing, I wonder, how amazing will your sister’s tales be?” Lamagak said, smiling warmly to the girl.

“Yes! I will have the best tales!” Lanarot assured her grandaunt.

“You should save some for our Gaks too.”

“Grandaunt, Taygak should save some for me,” the girl replied, pouting once more, causing Lamagak to burst into laughter, the woman finally picking Lanarot up, peppering her with kisses against her ears.

“I will request for her to do so,” the woman assured, brushing the girl’s cheek tenderly.

When evening approached, a figure accompanied the purple sky.

“Kako!” exclaimed a pair of twins, almost charging the red skinned Iyrman, who lifted the pair up.

“Did you think I would forget?” Jaygak asked, pulling them in close to her chest, her affection free for the children, who basked within their aunt’s warmth.

“No!”

“Even if you do not have pretty horns like mine or your elder siblings, I still love you both so much,” Jaygak promised, causing the boy to flush, while the girl threw out her arms.

“Kako, you think I will not beat you?” Jirot threatened, grabbing the woman’s head and kissing her cheek. “You silly girl!”

“I am so silly,” Jaygak replied, holding the pair so close to her chest.

Gangak thought about what Zijin had said, but seemingly, the girl hadn’t been told, for though she greeted her sisters and cousins, her eyes did not linger with expectations.

‘They should live unburdened like this,’ Gangak thought, though within her heart, the wound remained, of the little greatchildren who knew sorrow, and the grandnieces and grandnephews, who knew only of her failure.