Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

It was raining that day. The sky began to darken, painting the Iyr purple. The pair stared up at the darkening sky, taking a small break for themselves that evening, having washed away all the marks and paints their children had assaulted them with their play.

“The old man says that Jirot and Jarot, they’re sleeping a little better,” Adam said. “He said that Jirot’s sleeping better, so that means Jarot is sleeping better.”

A small smile crossed Vonda’s lips, the woman closing her eyes, squeezing her husband’s hand. “I pray every night.”

“Yeah,” Adam whispered, slowly nodding his head. His prayers were similar, save there was another prayer upon his lips each evening, in the middle of his prayers for the safety and health of his children. Unlike his wife, he was no Priest of Life.

“It’s painful. Not just why they dream, but…” Adam fell silent for a long while, allowing his eyes to burn, before he calmed himself. “I can’t even…”

Vonda brushed the side of his knuckle with her thumb tenderly.

“I haven’t dreamt the entire time I’ve been in this world, other than the meeting with the Divine. I don’t even know if the way I remember dreaming is the same way you dream. Do nightmares work the same way? I remember dreaming in my first life. I remember I had a dream where I knew I was dreaming and I could control my dream. I remember trying to fly, but it was pretty slow flight, even when I knew. In fact, it was about as slow as my flight now with my spell.” Adam managed the shadow of a smile. “Still, is it the same? Do Ja-…” Adam cleared his throat. “Do they dream like I remember? Is it different? If they…”

Adam glanced away, clenching his jaw, allowing his tears to fall, before he wiped the sides of his eyes against the back of his sleeve. “They won’t even let me have nightmares, Vonda.”

Vonda wasn’t sure who the they was, but she squeezed her husband’s hand. She fought off whatever burning came to her eyes, wanting Adam to have his time, wallowing in feelings she could barely understand.

A long silence accompanied the pair. It was a silence filled with the chill of duskval, the breeze picking up for a moment, before fading away.

“You know…” Adam whispered, swallowing slightly. “When I was a kid, my mother used to make me sandwiches. I took a packed lunch to school, in a little lunch box. I had this one that was kinda long, thin, and it was double layered, a lunch box stacked on a lunch box. It clipped at the side. It had a… green lid? Blue? Grey. It might have been purple, I’m not sure. What I am sure about, is that my mother, she made these sandwiches. A little bit of butter, or margarine, probably, because we didn’t really use much butter until I was in my… teens? I was seven, probably, when I was eating the packed lunch that I’m thinking of. Anyway, butter, then… cheese? Or it was crisps, then cheese. Do you know which flavour she would buy specifically?”

“Prawn cocktail.”

“Ah!” Adam said, his eyes widening. “No. I mean, yes, it was, but I remember now! She’d make a cheese sandwich. Usually, grated cheddar, pretty mild grated cheddar, not like the strong cheese that we have here. She’d cut off the crusts from the sandwich, that’s how you know your mother loved you, and she’d put some juice in for me, I’m pretty sure, not in the sandwich, in the bag that I kept the pack lunch in. Anyway, she’d cut off the crusts, and she’d put a full crisp packet in the bag. I’d open it up, and there I’d see it. Pink.”

“Pink?”

“Prawn cocktail crisps, the one’s that my mother bought, they came in pink packets.” Adam smiled, recalling the memories of when he was so young, before he had married, before he had children, before he had been killed, before he paid taxes, and before he had to get in debt to go to university, when his parents’ generation went free, back when a single parent working as a janitor could buy their own house, only to then call the younger generation entitled for wanting some of the same fortune.

“I used to open the packets,” Adam said, miming how he used to open his crisp packet. “The smell was so good. I’d open up my sandwich, I’d pour the crisps in, then I’d squish the bread together, crk crk.” Adam mimed the action. “I’ll say this, sandwiches taste better when they’re squished, but they feel better to eat when they’re not. Sometimes, you need to pick which one you want. Usually, I’d squish it just a little. I don’t remember the colour of the packed lunch. I don’t remember the drinks. I remember the sandwich though, and I remember when my mother used to put in the crisp for me later, but I asked for the packet because sometimes, and I’m not saying anything against my mother, let me be clear, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t use the entire packet, and if I didn’t use the entire packet, I could still eat out of it, you know?”

Adam’s laughter caused Vonda to smile wider, as tears formed again, but they were not the typical tears of despair, although they held a melancholy for a time long gone.

“I don’t know… if the memory of my taste is right. When I ate the crisps that I made, I thought they tasted the same. They might have been slightly off, but you know, not bad for a mimicry, right?” Adam wasn’t sure if he used the right word, but let that drop.

Vonda squeezed his hand. “I think they taste wonderful.”

Adam didn’t dare to look at Vonda, staring off to the side, chewing on his thoughts. “Vonda?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s no way that my children will be able to eat the same sandwich as me. Sitting at the same kind of table, in the same kind of hall, taking the same kind of lunch box, with the same kind of worries, even if you cut the crusts,” Adam’s voice had fallen to a quiet whisper.

Vonda frowned, shuffling closer to her husband, pulling his head to her chest, holding him so tenderly.

“They Iyr should know how the crisps taste, and I’m sure some know the magic, so they’ll be able to flavour it.” Adam fell silent. “You have to remember to cut the crusts, okay?”

“Okay,” Vonda promised.

“Vonda?”

“Yes?”

“I was planning on Awakening Jirot next, so I could do Jarot, up until his birthday, but I realised, he’s going to be a Rage Dancer like his babo, so it’d be pretty silly to give him the ability to use magic and enchant. So… I was thinking, I would Awaken you, with magic and enchanting.”

“I know my magic already, Adam.”

“I know, I just thought…” Adam fell quiet for a long moment. He couldn’t ask that, could he? “Enchanting, at least.”

Vonda tightened her embrace around his head, keeping him locked to her chest, her cheek rubbing against the top of his head. Adam felt a wetness against the top of his head, and after a sniffle, Vonda voice broke through the silence in a whisper. “Okay.”

Adam wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back gently.

“In exchange, I want you to promise to return to me,” Vonda whispered into his ear.

Adam’s spine tingled, a chill filling through him. Of all the things she could ask, that was something he couldn’t promise. A moment of doubt crept within his heart, quickly filling it.

There was no real need of him to go risk his life.

The Iyr had promised to assist.

He could just… let them deal with it.

The half elf froze, tensing slightly within his wife’s arms, only to push away the tension with his fury. How dare he be so damn dour within his wife’s arms? Though it only bottled the complex emotions tighter, it was for the best, he thought.

“I promise I’ll try,” Adam replied.

“Okay,” Vonda said, understanding that it was the best she could ask for.

As the pair walked back to the shared estate, holding hands, for Vonda could not refuse Adam’s fingers as they intertwined together, a voice called for Adam.

The half elf sighed, nodding his head to the Iyrman in grey, before glancing towards his wife. He hugged her tightly, swaying slightly with the woman in his arms, feeling her warmth, smelling the soft scent of the soap he had bought her a while ago, and he kissed her chin, that had been kissed by fire when she was but a girl.

The half elf dropped down opposite the Great Elder. She eyed up the half elf, noting the bags under his eyes, which had deepened since they last spoke, the thinness around his face, as though he hadn’t eaten recently, the paleness of his skin, though typically he would have regained most of his colour.

Elder Gold poured the half elf tea from her tea pot, and offered him plain biscuits showered in powdered sugar. “I am sorry about the request I brought up to the Great Elders.”

“It’s okay, I understand why you did it,” the half elf assured, sipping the tea lightly, barely tasting it. Even the powdered sugar did little to the biscuits.

Elder Gold remained silent for a long moment. “We had no right.”

“I heard.”

“I wished to ease your mind of our deals.”

“Yeah?” Adam replied, keeping her gaze, suddenly losing the gentle playful he had pretended to hold.

“I will keep my promises,” Elder Gold said, reaching into her robes to reveal a piece of paper, sliding it towards the half elf.

Adam scanned through the list of names, furrowing his brows slightly. It was longer than he expected. His eyes darted up to Elder Gold. “Are you sure this was the deal?”

“I am certain we made such a deal,” Elder Gold said.

Adam tilted his head slightly, trying to imply his confusion to the woman, but she remained sitting tall. Adam slid back the paper, having confirmed the deals. “Thank you.”

“I am willing to listen to another deal you wish to make.”

“I can’t afford it,” Adam said.

“The price may not be as steep as you expect.”

Adam stared into her eyes for a long moment, before leaning back in his seat, letting out a soft sigh. “You know, Elder Gold. In this life, I am blessed with so much. If I ask for any more, I’d be getting greedy, and I’d be tempting powers beyond what we could possibly imagine. I’m content knowing that the trust I placed in the Iyr was right, not that I ever doubted it.”

Elder Gold remained silent for a long moment. “You have chosen to leave the matter to the Rot family?”

“I’ve been really worried, you know? That uh…” Adam sniffled slightly. “When…” Adam’s throat clogged up, and though Adam’s eyes threatened him with wetness, he did not shed a tear. “I don’t deserve to be their father. After what I let happen. After… I told Vonda, you know? I said, look, when I was thinking about it. I knew, I know I’m not worthy of being their father. Those children, they’re too good to be my kids. I don’t deserve to be so lucky. I planned on going there, and killing the bastards, and then accepting my Fate. Even then, I would not deserve to call myself their father. I made a promise to my wife. If I go and I kill them, I’m going to try and come back alive. Then, and only then, can I work to deserve the title again.”

Elder Gold remained silent for a long moment, noting the shadows of the tears streaming down the half elf’s face, and yet, the pain within him must have been a greater burden than to just allow silent tears in front of her.

“So, if I had a request to make, it would be this. Whoever goes with me, please make sure they come back okay. You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll sort it out, somehow. Jurot. My…” Adam paused. “The rest of my family, whoever else comes along, please.”

“What would you be willing to offer?”

“I can’t offer you anything more than I am already willing to give you,” Adam replied. “Whatever the Iyr asks of me, I will give. The things I don’t want to do are things that will lead to endangering the Iyr.”

“I will think upon the matter.”

“I appreciate that.” Adam wiped his eyes and cleared his nose with his handkerchief. “Also, just wanted to let you know, I’m Awakening Vonda as a Chaos Enchanter too.”

“That would place us in a difficult position.”

“If you have a problem with it, you can take it up with Jirot, or her greatfather.”

Elder Gold noticed the smile upon the half elf’s face, far more genuine than she had expected. “Okay.”

Adam stood, staring down at the woman. “I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me, Elder Gold. The Iyr. You. If, I mean, I’ve been in bad situations before. An army? I made it out. I might be able to make it out this time too. I’m making the mistake of getting my hopes up, but… if I do, just know that I will always have the Iyr’s best interest in my heart. If you need me to die for the Iyr, whether it’s to put me down, or whether I need to face Shama, Starsword, doesn’t matter. I’ll do it. Hopefully nothing in the sea, that’s really scary. Sky? Land? That’s fine.”

“I wish you the best of luck. If you change your mind, please tell me,” Elder Gold said, shaking his forearm, watching as the half elf left, with renewed vigour. Her eyes remained on his form, which still slunk so low. It was watching the half elf go that Elder Gold realised something. Perhaps, in all the history of the Iyr, there was no one who was as unhinged as Adam when it came to their children. Yet, even Adam thought of the Iyr first, upon not requesting support from her.

It was that wound which would cut her deeper than even the Mad Dog’s axe.

Kill them with kindness.

Also with your axe.