Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The festivities of the nightval festival flooded through the Iyr, the gentle thrum of music accompanying the hot desserts, drinks, and meals. The children wore their thick clothing, their foreheads dabbed with their families tattoos, their rosy faces peeking from beneath their hats and scarves, their eyes glistening as they peered at the feast before them.

“Ohohoho,” Jirot snickered, clasping her hands together, rocking from side to side, for the potatoes perfectly prepared, the meat marinaded miraculously, the sauce smothered in succulence, the various vibrant vegetables voluminous. “Jarot! We are eating good today!”

“Shukhur,” little Jarot replied, opening his mouth as his sister brought up a fork to his lips, allowing the flavours to dance along his tongue.

“Shukhur,” Dunes agreed, making sure the children’s cups were full of juice, watching the girl continue to bob her head from side to side as she ate, licking her lips.

“Ahm, you must eat,” Jirot said, noticing her uncle had not yet reached for his food. “Look! Ranya and Enisa eat so well, shukhur, you are so blessed, ahm, so blessed.”

“Shukhur, these words, I say them to be true.”

“Of coas, for I am an Iyrman, and Iyrmen do not speak lies,” the girl stated.

Dunes smiled, an awkward smile, for the fact that blood had been spilled to confirm they were Iyrmen was one thing, but it also meant more blood would be spilled to confirm the matter in the future. Yet, today was not a day to think of such, for today was the nightval festival, and the most joyous time of the year.

Ranya reached for a piece of cake, but her mother flicked her hand gently. The girl complained, motioning towards the cake. “Mummy! Mummy, Ranya eat cake!”

“Once you are finished eating your food.”

“No!” Ranya gasped. “Mummy! Ranya eat cake!”

“No.”

“No!” Ranya gasped once more, as if to say that eating cake was just a state of being for her, and it was a great travesty for her not to be able to.

Amira tilted her head slightly towards her daughter, keeping the girl’s gaze, who eventually relented and returned back to her meal. “Thank you.”

Dunes reached over to rub her daughter’s back, but stopped upon seeing Amira’s eyes, and the young Mo returned his attention back to Jirot and Jarot, only to find Enisa tugging on his sleeve.

“Poopoo.”

“It’s always my youngest daughter who brings me the most gifts, even on this week,” Dunes joked, picking up Enisa, checking to see if she was just lying to him, but he stepped away.

Once he was gone, Amira cut into her own piece of cake, offering it to her daughter’s lips. “Do not tell your father.”

Ranya flushed slightly, smiling wide as she accepted the cake from her mother’s fork, chewing it slowly. Jirot and Jarot held their mouth agape at their aila’s naughtiness, the woman winking at the pair, causing them to cackle.

Virot cackled too, turning towards Kavgak and the other horned children, who also began to cackle, even if they had no idea what they were cackling about.

“Drink, Virot,” Kavgak said, holding the cup up to her niece’s lips.

Virot glugged the juice down, slurping noisily, letting out a satisfied sigh, for the juice, it was so juicy.

“What?” the fool of a father asked as his youngest son, who stared up at his father’s chin as he ate. “I was offering you the potato but you kept looking away. You won’t be chonky if you do that.”

“Mumma?”

“Hey, you’re, you, okay, since you’re still young, I’ll ask mummy to feed you, but only if you stay small and cute forever, okay?”

The boy smiled, clasping his hands together, clapping them once his mother held him, the woman then beginning to feed him, for the boy was still young enough that he was still able to drink from her teet, though she had begun to wean him off.

“Yeah, he’s definitely my son,” Adam said, almost choking on the spoonful of food a moment later, unable to stop himself from laughing, then seeing his wife’s raised brows, he keeled to the side and spat out the food, while Jurot pat his back.

“He is definitely my grandson,” Jarot whispered into Mulrot’s ear, the woman raising a finger, ready to jab him, but thankfully he knew to speak no further.

Tanagek had no worries about his younger brothers eating their food, since they were like their cousins, so chonky, the boys even eating the cucumbers without a second thought. Since they ate so well, Tanagek made sure to cut his own desserts in half and offered them to the boys, wishing to eat later.

“Brother, where is your cake?” Danagek asked.

“I gave it to you.”

Danagek furrowed his brows, glancing down at his cake, the boy pushing his plate to his brother. “You must eat cake today, brother, you must! It is the festival!”

“…” Tanagek remained silent for a long moment, but thanked his brother, while Dagek offered his own half eaten cake, and the Iyrman’s heart skipped a beat. His brothers had been raised well while he had been adventuring, that even if he was still slightly suspicious of the half elf, and worried about the aftermath of accepting him into the Iyr, he could only admit the half elf had done him a great favour.

“Chisen, did you finish your vegetables?” Chosen asked, noting how his little sister was reaching for the cake, even though her vegetables were untouched.

Chisen looked down to her plate, shrugging her shoulders. “Vegetables? I do not see the vegetables?”

Chosen raised his brows, causing the girl to grumble, the girl spooning the vegetables onto her spoon, taking a bite, only to find her brother placing the cake onto her plate.

“Since you are so well behaved, you can eat the cake after one bi-,” Chosen began, though Chisen had already spat out the food onto her plate. ‘How can you do this?’

Chasen turned to see his sister spit out her food, so, with a mouth full of vegetables, he did the same. “Cake?”

‘Chisen!’ Chosen cursed within his mind.

Mosen’s breath escaped into the air, the Iyrman rubbing his neck, as the nightval bear lay dead at his feet.

“Mosen, are you alright?” Gortol asked, as the ambush had struck Mosen the worst, though thankfully he was a Sen, and not just any Sen, but the kind who danced.

“I am fine.”

“Would you like to borrow my sword?” Gortol asked, his large flaming blade swooping through the air, leaving a trail of gentle light and warmth.

“If you wish for me to stab you, I will stab you,” Mosen replied simply, causing Gortol to burst into laughter. “Raknuu, I will leave the butchering to you.”

“We must bring the body to the outpost,” Raknuu reminded.

“Ah,” Mosen replied, recalling how few warriors they had patrolling the outskirts of the Iyr this time. It wasn’t so much that they had fewer than years previous, in fact, there were technically more, however, at a time like this, they would usually assign greater numbers. Unfortunately, they had to ban the younger Iyrmen, those who were not at least what was considered Adepts, those who had at least had stepped onto the path of their family’s way.

Laygak yawned, his breath fading into the air, as he stared out at the expanse of white. Due to the fact he was an Expert, he was able to lead a few of the Adepts in their patrol of the Iyr’s borders, settled atop the hill, peeking out towards the white horizon.

The four Iyrmen beside him, each who had stepped onto their family’s paths, glanced between one another. They had all trained alongside Laygak as children, and though they were certainly at least as talented, more, they were being led by that same Laygak. However, what could they do? He had beaten each of them as they had stepped forward to argue.

The others of the Silver Fate Squad had also chosen to step out to protect the Iyr during the week, for though it was the week they shouldn’t have, it was the weak they must. Thankfully, they had done so without forming the fool of a half elf, so he couldn’t beat them, and with the guilt within his heart, he would spoil their younger siblings well.

“How many years has it been?” Kanuu asked, for the young woman had also defeated Laygak previously. Though she preferred her daggers, she had even wielded a shortblade to defeat Laygak, that was the difference between their talent.

“What?” Laygak asked.

“It was not that long ago since I could defeat you, and now…”

“Why are you speaking of matters from so long ago?” Laygak asked, smirking wide. “First, if you have the courage, you may spar with my younger sister.”

Kanuu narrowed her eyes, her fingers twitching towards her dagger. “Hmph, do you thi-,”

“Yes,” Laygak replied simply, his eyes glued to the white horizon. “I think she can.”

Kanuu narrowed her eyes further, but her brows furrowed, considering the fact that, actually, Taygak, who was almost a decade her junior, was also now considered an Adept.

“Has it begun?” Tayooj asked, trying to hold Laygak’s gaze, but the Iyrman refused. “Tell me, Laygak.”

“You are thinking too much,” Laygak replied, though the smile on his lips said something else.

‘Ah,’ Kanuu thought.

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PATREON LINK

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I don't know if I write the most adorable children on this site, but at the very least, they are the most adorable within my heart.