Jogak stood, tall and proud opposite the ander, holding out a cut gem. The aared at the gem, before his eyes darted up to meet Jogak’s. The pair remained silent for a long while, Jogak slightly worried about that particur man, even while dealing with the ander.

  “What is the position of Director within the business?” the ander asked.

  “We assist in advising the President,” Jogak replied. “We hold greater authority than the Executives.”

  “Your tattoo matches that of another Executive.”

  “My daughter, Jaygak,” Jogak stated, his eyes bursting with pride.

  “Is it a business of the Iyr?”

  “It is a busihe Iyr has great i in.”

  “Very well,” the ander said, clutg the gem tight in hand. “Who are those within your carriages?”

  “Those who assist with our business.”

  “The demons?”

  “Managers Lud Mara are also assisting.”

  The ander bowed his head, leaving it at that, but the Director was not quite so lucky as a figure stepped towards the carriages.

  “I will firm the matter,” Viander Esme stated, the one eyed proag the carriages.

  “If the ander wishes to firm it, he may,” Jogak said, taking a half step to block the Viander.

  Esme narrowed her eyes at the Iyrman, who dared to speak up against her. “Directak, was it?”

  “Viander Esme,” Jogak replied.

  “Why do you io block my way?”

  “You are not the ander of the fort.”

  “You are not the President of the business.”

  Jogak smiled slightly. “I have the authority grao me by the business.”

  “I, too, have authority grao me.”

  “By your Order, not the military.”

  “Are you not the same?”

  “No,” Jogak said. “I was requested to possess such authority by the business.”

  “So, too, was I requested to possess such authority.”

  Jogak smiled wider. “Yes, but my authority was not given to me so that the Iyr may keep me leashed.”

  “Watch your tongue, Iyrman.”

  “I hope you find your home soon.”

  Esme tensed up slightly, reag down for her bde, only pausing as the carriage doors opened. Out stepped a woman in full pte, carrying a bde at her side. She undid her helmet to reveal she wore the same tattoos as the Director.

  “My nephew, is there an issue?” Gangak asked, barely gng towards the Viander.

  “The Viander wishes to overstep,” Jogak replied.

  “Does it the Iyrmen?” Esme asked.

  “You should know your pce,” Gangak said, before her eyes fell to the ander, feeling the Viander’s rage boiling to the surface. “Are we free to leave, or must we spill blood?”

  “Aunt,” Jogak said, clearing his throat. “I am currently on business for the United Kindom.”

  “Ah,” Gangak replied, reag up to hold her , still feeling the Viander’s urge to fight. “Then we will allow you to step back at this time, Viander.”

  “Step back? Are you able to ask me to step back?”

  “If I was uo ask you to step back, how could I face my greatchildren, or the Mad Dog?”

  “What is your retion to the Mad Dog?”

  “We grew up together,” Gangak said, before the smirk crossed her lips. “I may call him my brother.”

  “Do you think it gives you the ability to speak to me this way?”

  “No, but the st time I was asked to step back by the Orders, there were many more,” Gangak said, her lips grinning even wider. “Those Orders were not quite as weak as yours.”

  “Weak?” Esme drew her sword, flowers of yellow light dang around the air as her bde arched across the air. “Are you one of those so called Paragons of the Iyr?”

  “I am non,” Gangak replied, still grinning. “You and I are of simir strength.”

  “How do you assume such?”

  “You and I are both Grandmasters,” Gangak replied, simply.

  “You are a Grandmaster?” Esme tio hold her bde, still poio the earth. However, she had still drawn her bde in front of the Iyrman. “Do you truly believe I would fall for that.”

  “You should know of me, I am Fme Brand.”

  ‘Fme Brand?’ Esme thought, thinking for a short while, before sheathing her bde. “I see.”

  “ander, you may check the figures within the carriages, while the Viander should focus orue threat across the horizon,” Gangak stated, still grinning towards the woman. “You are fortunate my grandson has requested I deal with the matter calmly.”

  Adam blihe carriage gently shaking as they tinued along the road to Red Oak. ‘I thought Mad Dog was the one who was meant to be causing all the trouble.’

  “What are you thinking of so deeply?” Jogak asked.

  “I thought, ah, you are both definitely reted to Jaygak.”

  Jogak reached up to stop his snort, doing his best not to ugh. “She is my daughter.”

  “How could you say he was yrandson?” Jarot growled.

  “He is the father of my greatdaughter, does that not make him my grandson?” Gangak asked, gng aside to Adam.

  “Yreatdaughter?” Jarot asked, tensing up slightly.

  “Will you deny it?”

  Jarot gred at the woman, but he turned away, beating away the shame. “How I deny it when it is true? Brat, you ot call her grandmother before you call me grandfather!”

  “Who will I call my grandfather, you old geezer?” Adam replied, flushing a deep red, avoiding Gangak’s look, to see if the half elf would deny her.

  Jogak gnced out of the window, staring out to aime, a time when his aunt had not been forced away from Aswadasad. He often thought of what kind of future the Gak family would have if they had not been so unfortunate even during that time. He closed his eyes.

  ‘You must e back safely, okay?’ The voice echoed within his mind. It was the voice of the young girl that would have been his grandniee way or another, and perhaps, in aime, his granddaughter.

  Jogak threw a look to Adam, who was still red from embarrassment, then his eyes darted to Jurot, who was filled with an awkwardness, just like his grandfather. Jurot had brought Adam into the Iyr, and Gangak had almost brought Jirot and Jarot into the Gak family.

  ‘Daddy is so troublesome, so you must look after him.’

  Jogak almost smiled. ‘I am used to dealing with troublesome children, so do not worry, my Jigak.’ Jogak let out a short sigh, thinking about which gifts he should buy his grandnieces and grandnephews. ‘Jaygak, you brat! When will you give me grandchildren?’

  The pair of guards were adorned in the mail of the guard, red tabards c their , the symbol of a tree imprinted against their tabards. They wielded long spears in hand, a shield within arm’s read a pair of bdes at their side. They guarded the town, though one would be far more impressed with the walls, made of heavy stone, around three Adam’s tall, with several towers running along the perimeter, unless, of course, you were used to the sight of the Iyr’s walls.

  Jogak once more dealt with the guards, paying the appropriate fees, though they were iral Aldnd now, and so her the pque of the ducal families of the North or East could allow them to pay but silvers.

  As the carriages made their way through the busy roads of Red Oak, the group eventually came to an inn, the Red Wood Inn. It was not made of the town’s titur wood, but rather a cherry wood that seemed more pale pink thahough Adam he gate that closed the inn off was made of Red Oak.

  “Is the wood any good?” Adam asked.

  “Yes,” Jurot replied, before speaking of the particur qualities of the cherry as they walked into the ine, which revealed a rge front garden, surrounded by walls on three sides, and the inn prainst the st. The main path led towards the building, while smaller paths wound away, leading to small pavilions, each like leaves on a branch.

  Jogak stepped forward to deal with the payment, while the rest of the group settled themselves near a pavilion, sans Otkan, who had stepped away before entering the inn.

  “Adam,” Jarot called, pg a hand upon Adam’s shoulder. “e.” He limped away, his wooderiking against the floor.

  Adam followed the old man to another pavilion to the side, one which was far te for only the pair of them to sit within, but the old man sat upon the circur bench. The wooden roof atop them provided them shade, while a worker wearing pale blue, almost grey, clothing approached the pavilion.

  “A bottle of wiwo cups, two baked potatoes, six eggs, butter, salt, and a pot to boil milk,” Jarot demanded, pg down gold s to the side, mostly to pay for the wine.

  Adam remained silent while Jarot thought deeply. ‘What’s up with him?’

  Jarot tio think, even as the worker brought their food, the old man washing his hands using the basin they brought, before drying his hand by shaking the water off, and patting his hand against the towel. He allowed Adam to salt his food first, before ping it and sprinkling it over his potato and eggs, before cutting into the butter, buttering his potato, salting it once more. Jarot remained silent for a long while as they ate.

  The old man then undid the seal of the cask, p the wine for the pair of them, the cups far rger than those within the Iyr, but that was because alcohol in the Iyr o be drunk moderately, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to fight upon a moment’s notice.

  “I still remember when my younger brothers looked up to me,” Jarot said, sipping the alcohol lightly. “Now, one is dead, and though I am training, the other will grow strohan me.”

  “…”

  Even now, Jarot wasn’t sure if he could ask. “Adam?”

  “Yes?”

  Jarot hesitated for a moment, swallowing the question into his heart. “Little Jarot wishes to bee a Rage Dancer, like his greatfather. He pouts when I tell him I wish for him to stay small and cute, to remain within my arm. Will you allow my brother to teach him when he is old enough?”

  “Won’t you teach him?” Adam asked.

  “With this arm and leg of mine?” Jarot closed his eyes, before shaking his head lightly. “No. He should learn well.”

  “I was going to ask Jurot too, but if granduncle wishes to teach him, that’s okay, that’s good, too.”

  Jarot smiled sadly, before closing his eyes. Again, he wao ask the question, but he couldn’t. “Adam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you assist me in buying gifts tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Adam replied, feeling a chill run through him as the old man spoke so softly to him. “From Red Oak?”

  “Should we buy gifts in Deadwood? It treated you poorly.”

  “Obviously, but Red Oak dared to treat my children poorly!” Adam huffed.

  “The towns have treated my grandson and greatchildren poorly…” Jarot thought to ask then too, but he ched his jaw.

  “My children are more precious than me,” Adam replied, almost as a joke, but he meant it with his entire heart.

  Jarot smiled, but he closed his eyes, for how could his grandson say such a thing in front of him, when they were all so precious to him?

  Jarot's ses always make me so sad.