Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The Poison Sword Dragon sipped from the cup of tea, allowing the warmth to spread through his body, almost like poison. His heart soothed slightly in this place of the Divine, though he kept his wits about himself, since he was still a half blood of those who dared to defy the Divine.

“I cannot believe it,” Adilnur admitted, his eyes narrowed, to the point even he could not see them any longer, holding his tea cup for comfort, the warmth spreading through his fingers and through him, like that of a mother’s touch.

“Believe it, or do not, but it is the truth,” Isam replied, still annoyed he had to come all this way, but at the very least, he was able to meet with someone as interesting as this young man before him.

“I must believe it, since you speak the words, Kal Isam,” Adilnur replied, reaching up to run his fingers through his thick beard, twisting the thick hair in thought.

Isam narrowed his eyes towards the fellow before him, who dared to tease him so. “I intend to keep my promise, since the die has been cast, Mustashalur.”

Adilnur raised a brow towards the older half dragon, who continued to sip his tea peacefully. He was fairly certain that Anka’s life had hanging on by a mere flip of the coin, depending on the half dragon’s mood. “Shukhur, what a fine gift which was given to our Order, and a great honour for the Poison Sword Dragon to assist us.”

“When you meet him, you sill see, even more than myself, with those eyes of yours,” Isam stated firmly, noting the way the Mustashalur narrowed his eyes, as though trying not to see. There were so few in history who had such eyes, and they all manifested differently. They were not all seeing, but for those with great wisdom, their minds made up the shortcomings of such grand abilities.

“I wonder what he is like, the one that has defeated even the likes of the Poison Sword Dragon.” Adilnur returned back to his tea, closing his eyes completely, allowing the flavour of the tea, pink as love, sweet as adoration, and so warm, like affection.

Isam couldn’t help but feel more and more annoyed by his words, but he decided to show the young Mustashalur some grace, since there were already so few mortals who could dare to speak up against him, and after listening to his grief, the fellow had promised to give him a place to stay for the next ten years, promising not to to allow anyone to bother him.

“One year,” Isam stated firmly. “I will assist for one year.”

“One year is a blessing,” Adilnur confirmed, bowing his head respectfully. “It is already more than we prayed for.”

“You shouldn’t drag out this conflict for long, or you may allow the Reavers to become a permanent fixture,” the half dragon stated, sipping more of the tea, the flavours dancing along his tongue. He was glad they at least had good taste in tea, though he was in Aswadasad, in which, somehow, the best teas were those the commonfolk could afford.

“We are but one Order,” the Mustashalur replied, his heavy heart revealed upon his voice. “What can one Order accomplish alone?”

Isam let out a low growl, but he narrowed his eyes, and understood what pain it was to fight the world with such few people. He waited and waited for the Mustashalur to ask him to call for the other Sword Dragons to assist, but the Priest continued to sip away at his tea.

Today, too, Adilnur sipped away at his tea, but instead of the terrifyingly broody half dragon, there was a meekly broody half elf before him. He was exactly as the half dragon had described, the kind of fellow who was scared not of those who were stronger, but of himself, who was stronger than those.

“You have killed so many,” Adilnur stated, his voice light and calm.

Adam almost choked upon his tea, which had soothed him, so sweet and light, and as he continued to sip it, he realised he had tasted a form of it in Aswadasad, but this time it was lightly spiced, instead of coming out of a large barrel. “I have? I’m pretty sure I’ve only killed two.”

Adilnur tilted his head, wondering how audacious the half elf could be lying to him so blatantly, but as the half elf continued to think, he smiled to himself. “What of those you killed beyond this land? Beyond this Realm? Beyond this life?”

“I mean,” Adam began, his heart pounding wildly as he was caught so easily by this old man. “I don’t really like killing, so I don’t kill mu-,”

Adilnur noted how the half elf tensed up, remembering the faces of those he had killed, wincing at the memories. They hadn’t come to him immediately, but they had buried themselves deep into his heart, as he had thought

“I suppose I have killed quite a few people,” Adam admitted sheepishly.

“Is that why Lord Sozain chose you of all people to become his Chosen?” Adilnur accused.

“You’re confusing me with my companion, aren’t you? My name is Adam. Adam Fate.” The half elf’s lips curled up slightly as he joked.

“Oh ho ho ho,” Adilnur chuckled, not quite a full laugh, but it was real enough, though each guffaw came out slowly.

“No, no, I think he chose me for another reason.”

“What reason is that, if I may ask a rude question?”

“How could you, Mustashalur of Jahab Adh Aswad, ask a rude question?” Adam joked in return, since the old man was prying quite deeply. “I hold abilities others could only dream of.”

“I see,” the old man stated, brushing his beard, twisting it in thought, eyeing up all the various colours. Indeed, the half elf didn’t seem like the kind who gave death so easily, not that he hadn’t killed before, that much was for certain. “That must be it, yes.”

“I heard you have special eyes, Mo Adilnur,” Adam began, waiting for permission to continue to pry.

“My eyes are special,” the old man confirmed.

“Do you see things differently?”

“I see things differently, you see things differently, even this cup of tea, sees things differently.”

“I’ve been pretty forthcoming so far, so let me ask a rude question too,” the half elf said, leaning in slightly. “In what ways are your eyes special?”

“I see, threads of colour, each signifying different elements of the world, from life to death,” the old man said, reaching up a finger, and as he reached for an invisible thread, it seemed as though they escaped him. “I see you have killed many. I see that you have experienced death, at least once.”

Adam could see the way the old man’s eyes then fell towards his heart, scanning across it, and the half elf wondered just what the Mustashalur could see.

“I see many threads in your heart, for they are most blinding, those which are almost too numerous to count, for those you hold such grand affection for,” the Mustashalur admitted, which is the reason why he realised the half elf was not quite as evil as he originally expected.

Adam’s cheeks flushed a deep red, the half elf scratching his cheek lightly, glancing to the side. “I suppose, I do love quite a few people…”

“I can see each of the threads glow brighter as you thought of each, sometimes together, sometimes separate,” the Mustashalur admitted, before narrowing his eyes, reaching into his robes, taking out a thin piece of cloth, netted to allow him to still see, though to provide his eyes relief against the light of the world. “Sometimes, I am too overwhelmed, my eyes aching, so I must wear such a cloth to protect my eyes.”

“I’m sorry for exhausting you with how much I adore my wife and children, perhaps, if your ears are not exhausted, I will speak of them instead?” Adam joked.

The Mustashalur laughed heartily, a laughter so free, there was no way to fake it. Tears almost slipped out from the corners of his eyes. “I see! I wanted to see what he meant with my own two eyes, with my own two ears, and now I understand!”

“Did Dunes tell you about me too?” Adam grumbled playfully. “Seriously, that guy! He won’t even let me spoil his children as much as I want, that guy!”

“Mo Dunes did not inform me of much,” the Mustashalur stated. “It was Kal Isam.”

“Ah,” Adam replied, sitting up a little taller. “Is he here?”

“He left before you arrived,” Adilnur stated, noting the look of relief upon the half elf’s face.

“What did he say about me?” Adam’s heart ached slightly, unsure of what the Poison Sword Dragon said about him, and even unsure if he wanted to know.

The old man smiled, sipping his tea. “It matters not.”

‘I don’t know, man, it matters to me!’ However, the half elf decided against prodding further, since the world had decided to protect him.

He’s just a chill old man.