Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Omen: 9, 11

‘You have got to be kidding me,’ Adam thought as he awoke.

Once he was finished working out, assisting Taygak in her weightlifting, he caught Jurot’s eyes over breakfast.

“Bad luck?” Jurot asked in the Iyr’s tongue.

“In a certain sense,” Adam replied, already feeling the pressure of the numbers upon his shoulders. ‘The bad luck from my first life won’t carry over to now, will it?’

Vonda glanced between the pair, wondering what they were saying, but if they were speaking in the Iyr’s tongue, her husband might not have wanted her to know. ‘Is it bad luck?’

Adam remained beside Vonda the entire day, confirming her thought. The triplets drew beside their parents, Konarot drawing the open sky with a sun, Kirot drawing a mountain, and Karot drawing an axe. Jirot and Jarot played with Lucy and Mara within their sight, their giggles almost as noisy as their troublesomeness. When the children were sent to nap, Lucy and Mara left to train in the nearby fields, their moods heavy.

Sonarot knitted away, creating a blanket for her youngest grandchildren. She remained beside Adam and Vonda, sensing the air around the pair. As the children awoke and began to play around them, Virot crawled over towards her mother, the girl giggling wildly as she climbed to a standing position beside Vonda, reaching out to grab at the woman’s trousers.

“Teebee!” Virot declared, before babbling away with delight at her mother, the girl’s eyes beaming.

“Are you enjoying duskval?” Vonda asked, reaching down to rub the girl’s cheeks, the girl giggling, turning around as she stumbled away.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four.

She finally dropped down upon her fifth step, while Adam blinked rapidly, glancing between his wife, to Sonarot, to Jurot and Pam, to his triplets, then to Jirot and Jarot. Jirot’s lips formed a small circle of shock, her brows raised in utter surprise.

“Virot!” Jirot called. “You are walking?” She stared at her father, as though this was the greatest magic she had ever seen.

“She walked away from her mother for her first steps…” Adam reached up to rub his forehead. “Of course, since she’s your sister.”

“Virot! Come!” Jirot called, holding out her arms.

Virot blinked at Jirot, before smiling even wider, the girl crawling towards her elder sister, threatening to charge her.

“Virot, you must walk, you silly girl!” Jirot said, squatting down to pick her sister up, hugging her tight. “How you can walk away from mummy?” The girl shuffled slightly, helping Virot up to her feet, holding her youngest sister up. “You must walk to mummy now.”

“Virot, come to mummy,” Adam called, holding out Vonda’s hand.

Virot squealed and reached out for her mother’s hand, before she stumbled out of Jirot’s arms, and towards her mother. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Upon the fourth, the girl clutched at her mother’s hand, and cackled with joy, her entire body shaking. As she threatened to fall, Vonda held the girl’s hands within her own, lifting her up slightly to help her stay up.

“She walks so well,” Jurot said, his arms crossed, the Iyrman feeling the tingling against the back of his neck, flexing as he tried to contain the burst of emotions.

“Will you walk soon?” Pam asked Damrot, whose innocent smile warmed her heart, and she wrapped her arms around her son, pulling him close. “You can take as long as you need to walk, my little Dam.”

“Ah bah bah,” the boy replied, sucking his hand shyly, pressing his head into his mother’s bosom to hide himself from the world and its expectations.

Adam hoisted his daughter up onto his lap, nuzzling her nose, hugging her so tenderly. “You were already so difficult when you crawled everywhere, and now you’re walking everywhere?”

“Buh!” Virot replied, the girl trying to squirm away from his arms, reaching out for her mother. “Omama!”

“Eh?”

“Gaga!”

Adam glanced towards his wife, the woman smiling as she reached out to brush Virot’s hair, calming the girl. Virot bowed her head slightly, allowing her mother to rub her head, before she clapped excitedly.

“Wait! Virot, say mama.”

“Oo?” Virot asked.

“Say mama.”

“Mmm…” The girl blinked at her father. “Bo!”

“Mama!”

“Mmm. Goo.”

“Mama, say mama.” Adam nuzzled her nose, and the girl squealed and giggled, before squirming out of his arms, fleeing upon all fours.

“Why are you crawling when you can walk, silly girl,” Jirot said.

“It might be too tiring for her to walk, so let her crawl if she wants to, okay?” Adam reached out to brush his youngest daughter’s cheek, the girl smiling slightly.

As the children continued to play, Adam leaned back in his chair. He glanced aside to Vonda, who closed her eyes, half asleep. Adam closed his eyes too, his fingers intertwining with hers, the pair enjoying the quiet day together.

The bald Iyrman appeared, having trimmed his beard so that it was only a fistful thick, rather than down to his chest. He smiled from beneath his thick moustache, the Iyrman beaming so brightly towards the chubby girl, who sometimes kicked up a fuss, and cried so heartily to be fed.

“Damrot,” Malfev called, causing the boy’s head to shoot upwards towards the old man. “Are they feeding you enough?”

“Omnom?” the boy asked, sticking a finger to the corner of his lips.

“I will feed you,” Malfev assured, noting the whiteness that were Damrot’s first teeth. The old man smiled, before going to find some blended fruit for the boy, allowing him to use the spoon his father had carved. “Is this your bowl and spoon?”

Damrot giggled in response, before shoving his spoon into the bowl, concentrating as he dug his spoon into the food and scooped it up, like he was using a dagger. He ate the blended fruit slowly, wearing some upon his mouth and bib.

Virot too ate alongside her cousin, complaining as her father stole away her spoon, and continued complaining as he tried to feed her. Once she had her spoon within her mighty, chubby hand, she managed to feed herself, smacking her lips together as she mimicked how her family ate.

“Earlier this year, she couldn’t even roll onto her tummy, and now she’s walking, picking up cubes, and even feeding herself…” Adam whispered, staring at his daughter, his eyes then falling upon his nephew.

“They are growing well,” Malfev said, while the triplets relaxed around him, enjoying the serene aura he emitted.

Once the older children returned from their schooling, Lanarot charging her dado, Malfev allowed the children to inundate him with a thousand questions, before he finally excused himself.

Soon, the purple overwhelmed the sky, and they all ate together, with Adam feeding his children the crisps he had cooked earlier that morning.

“I don’t know what it is, but whenever evening comes, I feel relieved,” Adam admitted. “It feels like everything’s going to be okay.”

“In the night, the few Iyrmen who work, work hard,” Jurot said.

“Yeah…” Adam glanced down towards his son, who sipped upon his bottle of milk, before sighing. Whereas Jirot had grown chubbier over the last few weeks, little Jarot was only slightly chubby, the boy thinner by quite a bit, even though he played as well as his sister.

Grief pierced through Adam’s heart. He winced slightly, reaching up to his chest, rubbing it gently, feeling the heaviness in his chest, and the burning in his eyes.

“Okay?” Jurot asked.

“Yeah…”

As night fell upon the Iyr, Gangak scooped both twins into her arms. She carried their sleepy forms away, but only once they had prepared for bed, by saying their greetings, giving and receiving their kisses.

‘Looks like everything’s going to be okay?’ Adam thought, while a shadow formed behind him, and he glanced back towards the figure. He was thankful it wasn’t an Iyrman, otherwise he would have yelped. “Have you come to say good night to my adorable twins?”

“Yes,” Ashmir said, unsure if it was the truth, but he waved his hands towards the twins, who waved their hands towards him, the pair smiling shyly towards him, before they disappeared with their nano. The Aswadian bowed his head to the trio of elderly Iyrmen as they left.

“What’s up?”

“I wished to speak with you,” Ashmir admitted.

As the pair sat down to one side within the courtyard, Adam poured them tea using his special clay tea pot, and the tea he had received from the Grand Duchess.

“When I fought in the arena, I dreamt of owning a Persevian tea pot,” Ashmir said. “I once drank from it when I refused a Faro.”

‘Damn,’ Adam thought. ‘A Faro? A Duke, right?’ “You sure have some courage.”

‘Courage?’ Ashmir thought, sipping the tea, feeling the chill invade through his body. “Is this from the north?”

“It is,” Adam confirmed.

“Hmm,” Ashmir replied, nodding his head gently, before sipping it again. “…”

“…”

The pair basked in the silence for a long moment. Adam eyed up the old man. His hair, stark white. His beard fell down to his chest, thick, and no longer as wild as it once was, now well groomed and full of tiny beads. Adam thought about whether he should grow a beard, though he’d need to wait until nightval.

“Chimir no longer tugs on my beard, but my youngest, Samir, he likes to grab at the beads, and tries to eat them,” Ashmir said, reaching up to brush through his beard. It had grown stark white thanks to the stress that came with many daughters.

“How old is he now?”

“Six months?”

‘Ah, so he was born earlier this year then?’ Adam thought. “Six months is a cute age.”

“Is there an age where our children stop becoming so cute?”

“No, I suppose not,” Adam said, smiling slightly.

Ashmir fell into thought again, but before he could ask, the door to the Rot home opened up, and Sonarot stared at the pair for a moment.

“Adam!” Sonarot called. “It is time.”

“Time?” Adam asked.

Time for what?