[1549] – Y07.049 – Arisa IV
The Amber Sword and the Elder of Amber each adorned their armour, for though the Fariq, the Grand Commander of the Amber Blades, was about to cross steel with the likes of the fool of a half elf, surrounded by so many Iyrmen, the Elder of Amber would need to step forward too.
“If you do not win, I will not bully you again,” the girl warned with a whisper.
The half elf knelt before his daughter, holding her hand. “Dear, would you like me to grow more powerful.”
“Hmm…” The girl considered her father’s strength, calculating it against the figures of the Elder of Amber, and the Fariq of the Amber Blades. “Yes.”
“Then, this father of yours will grow stronger, but I need you to place your hand on my head, and wish for it.”
The girl placed her hand upon her father’s head, feeling his hair, which was not quite as thick as hers, more like her elder triplet siblings. The girl closed her eyes, and she muttered a prayer to the Mother of Life.
Gangak thought she should have prayed to Baktu, but she forgave her greatdaughter.
Ah.
No.
There was nothing to forgive.
Level Up!
Level: 9 -> 10
“Do you feel it?” the half elf asked, standing, clenching his fist. “This father of yours… has grown stronger.”
The girl blinked up towards her father. “Daddy, even if you lie to me, you cannot lie now.”
“Your father has grown more powerful,” a figure said, the only other figure the Faro needed to consider, for it was he who had gone so far as to disrespect even the Emperor of the Undersea’s own kin, for he was that kind of figure, the one who wore horns upon his head, and scales of azure.
Jirot looked up to her father, reaching up to claim his fingers, holding them within her tiny hands, the girl staring into her father’s eyes.
“Dear, watch carefully.”
“I will watch carefully, daddy,” the girl assured, squeezing his fingers gently.
Mara, too, eyed up the half elf, who had suddenly grown more powerful. She was uncertain of what it meant, for there were times when he’d suddenly grow powerful, and it was not just a slightly increase of power, but one could see there was an Adam before, and an Adam after.
“Jababy, I need you to give me a good luck charm too,” the half elf said, offering the top of his head to his son. The boy reached out, his heart pounding so violently within his chest, his stomach aching, but, unfortunately, he ate so little. The half elf smiled so warmly after his son’s charm, and he looked down to his triplets, holding out a hand. “I need your strength too, since my opponent is the Fariq of the Amber Blades.”
The triplets each held out a hand, the trio staring into their father’s eyes, which seemed so clear, and so full of warmth.
“Lanarot…”
“Brother, even if I do not give you strength, you will win,” the girl said confidently.
“Yes, but…”
The girl sighed, and reached out a hand, concentrating intensely. “I will give you half, okay?”
“Thank you,” Adam said, though he wished for her whole thoughts. Thankfully, at his Aunt’s behest, little Amalrot fed the half elf a piece of fruit, and with that, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stepped forward, pausing a moment. He turned, catching Taygak’s eyes, and considered his thoughts for a moment. “Taygak.”
“Cousin Adam.”
“…” The half elf smiled, and with that, he stepped forward, for was there a need to say it? No. Taygak knew. ‘Watch carefully, Taygak.’
The Fariq stood, adorned in his full plate, that of a beautiful steel, passed down through the generations of the Order. His titular blade, so beautiful it was, clasped firmly within hand, heavy in hand, and yet, was there a blade more comfortable within his grip than this?
“Kal Idris,” Adam finally called, his voice calm, relaxed, almost holding the arrogance of youth.
“Yes, Mo?” the Fariq replied respectfully.
“I should warn you, I have never lost in front of my children before,” Adam said, holding the older man’s gaze, his eyes no longer playful. “So, don’t hold back.”
“You need not worry, Mo, for I am not the same as I was the previous year,” the old man assured, clasping his blade tightly in hand within both hands, splitting his eyes on either side of the blade.
“Nor am I,” the half elf replied, inhaling sharply, clutching his axe tightly in hand, gripping his shield within the other, for he was a Rot too.
‘Brat, do not slaughter him too quickly,’ the old man thought, squeezing his greatson’s hand gently, feeling how the boy clutched upon his hand tightly.
‘I won’t apologise to you for what I’m about to do,’ Adam thought. ‘This is your apology for your mistake.’
Kal Idris could see the half elf’s eyes, through a pair of visors, and he could see the half elf, more than the previous year, was unable to claim a loss. However, he, the Fariq of the Amber Blades, could not lose either.
Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 7 (6)
The pair exploded forward, under the watchful eyes of their guests.
It was under these eyes, in which the half elf had made a promise. Even if there were other eyes upon him, the only eyes which matters were theirs, those whose hearts remained wounded. Even slaying the Grand Commander of High Garden was not enough, so, for their sake, those children he had failed, he would need to claim a greater feat.
Korin’s eyes remained fixated upon the half elf, as he recalled the words of his friend.
‘It was this sword,’ Dunes had said, revealing the blade. It was not his own, in fact, it may be considered greater than his own. It was that sword, the sword of his first child, little Ranya, which had taken the head of the Grand Commander of High Garden.
It was perhaps the most dangerous weapon within Adam’s hands, for thrice per day, when one struck another, and Adam found it so easy to strike, he could bend the will of Fate itself, and strike with the viciousness beyond a typical blow, to strike true. Within the hands of an Oathsworn, it was terrifying, and within the hands of the half elf, it was beyond terrifying.
Yet, it was not that blade within the half elf’s hands.
The axe in Adam’s hands, to Korin, was much weaker, and the Fariq of the Amber Blades, could perhaps fight the Grand Commander of High Garden to a standstill.
‘Adam!’ Korin thought, his head threatening to explode from the stress. ‘No matter what! You cannot lose! For the sake of my precious nieces and nephews!’
Vonda’s hands remained firmly fixated upon her lap, her eyes glued to the form of her husband. It was this form she recalled. It was this form which had taken the life of Sir James Greatwood. It was this form which remained unable to carve his name into the land. It was this form she had forced to temper, and it was this form, which, for her sake, did not step out to slaughter countless to ease the hearts of their children, who were so brutally killed.
Little Jarot winced, hearing the clash of steel, the boy’s eyes filling with tears, but he felt a warm hand upon his, and a gentle, slightly coarse, hand upon his chin, brushing the boy’s cheek tenderly with a hand that he only recently had felt in his life, but was full of a warmth he had known his entire life.
Yet, while a great many Iyrmen watched, with varying levels of stress, there was one who seemed completely relaxed.
‘Brother, if you end the fight too quickly…’ Lanarot let out a soft sigh, for perhaps she may be unable to forgive her foolish brother.
‘It’s easy for you, isn’t it?’ Adam thought as he bolted forward, his axe floating through the air. ‘For you all, who say you’ve come to defend the land with your Oaths. To look at my friends with those eyes of yours. To look at my children with those eyes of yours.’
Vonda’s hands clasped together tightly, for the half elf’s body filled with a great power, a great power which could one day be used to create death untold, for not even an Iyrmen possessed such power.
‘Young man, I hope you will forgive me,’ Kal Idris thought, his beautiful blade, that which had been passed down through generations, in which his blade knew few peers, glowed brightly with the might of a power that had allowed his Order to remain firm for generations past, and generations forward, and today, would bury the ascent of the half elf, as his blade swung violently downwards, willing forth a great magic, the kind that was filled with the might of a Fourth Gate smite.
Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2
Attack: Heavy Axe (Advantage)
D20 + 11 = 15 (4)
D20 + 11 = 22 (11)
Hit!
Mana: 39 -> 34
Ability: Divine Smite
4D6 + 6D6 + 9 = 33 (11)(13)
33 damage!
Attack: Heavy Axe (Advantage)
D20 + 11 = 18 (7)
D20 + 11 = 26 (15)
Hit!
Mana: 34 -> 29
Ability: Divine Smite
4D6 + 6D6 + 9 = 52 (14)(29)
52 damage!
Onward Soar: 1 -> 0
Attack: Heavy Axe (Advantage)
D20 + 11 = 23 (12)
D20 + 11 = 25 (14)
Hit!
Mana: 29 -> 24
Ability: Divine Smite
4D6 + 6D6 + 9 = 47 (10)(28)
47 damage!
Attack: Heavy Axe (Advantage)
D20 + 11 = 15 (4)
D20 + 11 = 30 (19)
Critical Hit!
Mana: 24 -> 19
Ability: Divine Smite
8D6 + 12D6 + 9 = 47 (24)(42)
75 damage!
‘It’s easy for me too,’ Adam thought, as the clash of his magical steel struck firmly against the chest of the Fariq, denting deeply within the steel, pressing deep into his chest, his magic racking through the form of the older fellow, the form of one of Aswadasad’s greatest warriors.
“Ahm Kalim,” Adam called, pulling his bloody axe out of the Fariq’s chest, letting his slumped form fall beside him, his voice dark and heavy, as Korin quickly stood, rushing to the form of the Fariq.
‘Adam!’ Korin thought, swiftly placing a hand upon the Fariq’s still form, filling his body with the gentle warmth of magic.
“Have I oppressed you so that you must draw your axe against me?” Kalim mused, all the while his Fariq’s still form jolted awake.
“I ask you, for the sake of my children, to step forward.”
“If it would earn our forgiveness, then I will step forward,” the Elder of Amber said, glad the half elf had the foresight not to kill the Fariq of an Order before the Faro. He also understood, with the darkness that stuck upon the surface of the half elf’s eyes, he was unable to refuse. ‘Today you have come as the Crazy Father...’
‘Is he fighting Kalim immediately after facing me?’ the Fariq thought, his memories slowly returning to him, but why did the half elf seem completely unscathed after clashing with him?
Vonda’s eyes fell to her twins, whose eyes remained firmly fixated upon their father, holding awe within their eyes. She already knew the half elf wouldn’t kill the Grand Commander, not in front of her, but she hadn’t expected him to request facing the Elder of Amber next. Though she thought to stop it, for her husband could never defeat her, but even she could not defeat her children’s gazes.
The Faro’s eyes remained firmly fixated upon the fool, who, but a year ago, she had thought to be a simple fool.
Pam’s eyes shifted aside to her husband’s face, who seemed completely unperturbed by the fact his brother had defeated one of the greatest warriors in the land so simply.
PATREON LINK
Jirot really is her father's daughter...
