[1400] – Y06.300 – Sorrowed Hearts X

The port town provided great relief to the travellers, especially during such a turbulent times, the Reavers far in the distant horizon. The dockguard checked that particular ship, but upon seeing the pair of half dragons, one blue, one green, they kept their heads down and politely allowed the group to slip out of their ship to a nearby inn that evening.

Taymora allowed the Iyrmen to speak their tales, but he was most interested within a particular pair of half bloods. However, both were difficult to approach, for one was the descendant of one family, while the other was a descendant of another, each the kind to cause him pause.

Even the rowdy sailors within the inn understood not to deal with those who were escorted by two half dragons, as well as so many Iyrmen. Even if the Iyrmen did not like to fight upon the sea, upon a deck they were still among the greatest of warriors, even those who were typically armoured.

The group did not stay long within the inn, and after thanking the Captain, they made their way along on riverboats, wishing to move swiftly with so many figures. Kizwolima enjoyed sitting near the edge, allowing the water to spray her now and again, while Amal remained firmly fixated against Adam’s chest, who would sometimes hold her near the edge, letting her see the water crashing against the bow of the ship.

John couldn’t help but wonder how much it cost them to travel with so many ships, especially considering they needed an extra few to carry their carriages. Again and again, he understood the difference between himself and all these figures. ‘…’

They passed through the various villages along the river, staying at one, offering the spear within the scarf as they typically did, as well as hiring various guides, continuing along their way, until finally reaching a particular village, where they could no longer follow the river due to it dipping southward towards…

“Once more, I am grateful for your assistance,” Taymora said, still in his half dragon form, with dark green hair, dark skin, beautiful green eyes, wearing a more effeminate appearance than one might have expected. “I will return to my lair and select from my treasures a suitable reward.”

“It was the duty of our Order to assist,” Lani said, being directed by the eyes of those of Black Mountain who were older than her.

“It is an honour to hear that from you, Sword of the Lady,” Taymora replied, bowing his head, causing the young woman to flush, the excitement flooding through her body, tingling all across her skin. The half dragon, who was actually a dragon in disguise, then turned towards the Iyrmen.

“Do you have small trinkets we can gift to children?” Adam asked, taking the opportunity. “A mountain of brightly coloured gems which are worth little?”

“I have little worth little.”

“We would like some light trinkets you are willing to part with that we may gift to our children.”

Taymora considered his words, of the half elf, who was no Iyrman, whose wife was no Iyrman, and yet his children were Iyrmen. “I am able to procure such.”

“Would you like for us to escort you?” Adam offered.

“No,” Taymora replied firmly.

Jurot shook his head towards the half elf, who cleared his throat. “Lord Taymora, safe travels.”

Taymora raised a hand towards them, before he spun on his heel, shifting from a half person into a long serpent of green and flew into the air, the villagers nearby staring in awe, though they were familiar with Lord Taymora, who was their patron, but even they hadn’t seen him shift often, and it was still rare to see him.

Since they had assisted their Lord, the village hosted the group, listening to the tale of how they assisted their Lady.

“Do not feel offence,” Jurot said. “Lord Taymora is secretive, only a handful of figures are welcome within his lair.”

“Yeah, my bad, I forgot we’re just that strong,” Adam replied, doing his best not to smile.

Bael wondered what Taymora was doing considering he had been missing since the last time they had passed by, roughly two months ago. However, Taymora was one of the few dragons he had met that had left him be, and he showed little fear, but also didn’t glare towards him, so since Taymora left him be, he left Taymora be.

“Does Lord Taymora have any kids?”

“There are very few dragons as secretive as Lord Taymora, and it would be best not to ask too much about him, especially in this village,” Jurot said.

“Oh.”

Brittany could finally relax, the young woman finally relaxing within the bathtub, the half elf having warmed each up with his magic, allowing them all to relax within the village. The villagers had already welcomed them well enough, but the half elf had also warmed up a great many more basins for them all, more than eager to assist for a few minutes for the next few hours. She thought of how hard he worked, and seeing how weary he had become on the journey, and yet continue to push forward. She thought about how much he pushed them, but she couldn’t help but feel she couldn’t even think poorly of him, considering how he worked the hardest. She then thought of the other hard worker…

John finished his evening routine, feeling the ache in his body. It had been a while since he had last rested, he could feel the ache not just within his muscles, but now deeper, into his bones. He could feel how his body slowed with his movements now.

“You must train at half rate for the next week,” the voice said, Nirot watching over him with her arms crossed.

“…”

“It would be best to allow your body to rest for a short time, so you can train harder the week after,” Nirot informed, understanding that John would find it uncomfortable. He had yet to learn about how his training would break down his body further if he continued, and not in the way that was conducive to turning him into a figure that could rival the likes of the Grand Commanders, the Fariqi, of the various Orders.

John nodded, having noted how the Iyrman had taken the responsibility of assisting him with his training. He supposed it was difficult for the half elf to give him much attention, but from what he knew, the woman was a Rage Dancer, and he was meant to be training to become an Oathsworn. His other trainer was Yasha, who was at least training him in spearplay, but then there was the issue of fighting within heavier armour, but he supposed that would come in the future.

If he joined them.

The next morning Yasha trained, training lighter than usual since John had only trained half as much as usual, glad for it, since even though she liked to train with him, the Aldishman would often outdo her, not because he tried, but because that was the kind of training he knew.

From the heavens, the green dragon descended, and waved a talon, revealing several pouches before the group. She had brought along sacks of silver, gold, trinkets, and gems she had personally cut down to the size of a fingernail, smoothed for the children.

“You are a star, Lord Taymora!” Adam beamed brightly, noting all the pretty gems, and since they were part of Lord Taymora’s hoard, he’d be able to show off much more.

‘What a heavy heart this young man has…’ Taymora also handed over a set of finely crafted weapons, out of respect to the Deathsingers, one of which had been enhanced with his poison breath. The Lord watched as the group made their way out, Chosen and Tanagek both eyeing up the poison sword, though it was Taygak who held it, as she held a great number of swords. Even they could not dare to covet such a weapon.

Upon their break, Adam sent word ahead to a particular figure, until they finally came to the village at evening.

‘Oh!’ Adam thought, upon seeing the shorter Aswadian, his head bald, his eyes a deep blue, well muscled. He was adorned in scale, upon his back a large longsword.

“I see, with these old eyes of mine, as drunk as I am, my niece and nephews!” Afraz almost exclaimed, reaching out to greet each of the returning Iyrmen, especially the Gaks. “What is this? Another niece of mine?”

“She’s my daughter,” Adam replied, showing off the chonky girl to the old man.

“She is not,” Jurot said. “Yet.”

“What? Do you see this, ahm? My own brother dares to covet my daughter!”

Afraz laughed, patting their shoulders, before reaching out to the little girl. “Come to me, betti, this old man, he’ll pick the right father for you, yes?”

The girl hid her head into Adam’s neck, glancing back shyly towards him, causing the old man to laugh.

“It seems she has already decided?”

Adam smirked, nuzzling against the girl’s cheek gently, holding her close to his chest. “Amal is as smart as she is chonky, isn’t that right?”

Amal returned to hiding within Adam’s neck.