ocean-life [1080] – Y05.080 – No Justice IV
[1080] – Y05.080 – No Justice IV
[1080] – Y05.080 – No Justice IV
“If they do not step aside, shall I take it as the Iyr no longer wishes to cooperate against the Reavers?” King Merryweather asked, having stood uncorrected, and running out of options when he considered how eager the Orders seemed.
Elder Peace held her beads in one hand. She rubbed them gently, rubbing each of the beads, one by one. There were over a hundred, a hundred and two to be precise. One hundred beads were rounded, but two were cubes. One, white, which she currently thumbed, and another, red, which she avoided, and had avoided since she had inherited the beads.
“If it is true that these children were killed upon the Aldish lands, a demon, and a goblin, then I, as Elder Peace, shall declare that this group before us, stand without the blessing of the Iyr, and shall be subject to whatever the King of Floria shall declare.”
King Merryweather tensed up slightly, noting the wording of her statement. He stared at her long and hard, while she remained rubbing her white bead, her eyes closed, the woman completely relaxed, standing calmly with no aides beside her.
Elder Peace stopped rubbing the white bead, feeling the edge of the red bead against her fingers. Slowly, the woman opened her eyes, catching the eyes of a particular Iyrman. “A demon and a goblin have no rights.”
“My Jarot. My Larot. They are Iyrmen.” The old one armed Iyrman stared into the Great Elder’s eyes, refusing to allow her to draw her eyes away.
“When I left to assist in the gathering, they were not, in the eyes of the Iyr,” Elder Peace said clearly, making sure to speak each word clearly.
“They are Iyrmen, like my Farot.”
Elder Peace stopped rubbing her beads, narrowing her eyes slightly. Even though they were engaging in such theatrics, for the Aldish loved their justification, the threat Jarot held in his voice was very real. “They are truly children of the Iyr?”
King Merryweather remained focused on the Great Elder. He gathered there was something off about the situation, but he couldn’t quite place what. Except there was more than one thing that didn’t make sense. It just couldn’t be the case that a child of the Iyr was killed, and the Iyr hadn’t declared anything in months. ‘Chief Iromin...’
“They are,” Jarot declared, a silence creeping into the fort.
Sir Dunnock inhaled sharply, feeling a deep chill set within her, the woman standing completely still. Even her companions remained frozen. ‘That is impossible.’
Another Vice Commander of the Thousand Hunts had crept closer, taking his position nearby, but his eyes remained focused on a particular half elf.
“This has gone far enough,” Kris stated, trying to catch the King’s eye, but the King remained completely focused on the Great Elder.
“The rules are clear,” Elder Peace said, brushing her thumb along the red bead. “The heads of the accused must be offered to the Iyr, or we will escalate this matter.”
“War? At this time?” King Merryweather urged, hoping she would change her mind. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, for though he had exiled the Orders, he still commanded a great respect from them, and for them, but the Iyr had also been pivotal in him forming the current Floria. “The war will disrupt so much. Floria. Aldland. The Iyr.”
“The rules are clear,” Elder Peace stated firmly.
“This is a matter for the Rot family,” Jarot stated, as though Elder Peace didn’t know that already.
Adam’s eyes burned, and he grew heavier and heavier, drowning in the hopelessness of the situation.
‘I dragged Jonn all the way here, but what about Dunes? What’ll happen to Ranya? Lucy, Mara? They’re demons surrounded by Oathsworn who want nothing more than to slaughter them.’ He had already failed Lucy once, and Mara, a dragon’s heart was cheap enough for her life, but were Kris and Melinda worth as much as a dragon heart?’
Amokan, Timojin, they had come without being asked, and he had barely spoken to either of them. They had come for Jurot, no doubt.
Tonagek, his uncle, had gifted him his triplets. Gorot, though he and Adam rarely spoke, had come. Rajin, he had helped last year with his twins, but this time, there wasn’t just a Master, there were too many of them.
Bael had offered his life, sure, he was here to have fun, and then there was that other guy he still wasn’t sure about.
Adam remained silent, slowly falling deeper into the pit, feeling the guilt weight upon his shoulders.
In his second life, he had been killed because he had been way too stupid. He had let Jurot die back then, would he allow Jurot to die again this time? What about the old man, his own grand-
“One hit.”
The two words struck the air like a hammer, and Adam turned his head to the sight, the light entering through his visor, and there he stood. This entire time, Jurot had remained silent. He had replayed his life, from winning the tournament, going back to slaying all the hydras, going further back to winning another tournament, and facing more hydras, the dragons, and then back all the way to when they had first met, when he had almost drowned in despair.
He remembered when his mother had told him that Adam was his brother, and he had accepted it just like that.
Except, before that, Adam had risked his life for him, ready to face the point of the Iyr’s blade, as well as the blade of Balrog. Jurot had recalled the words which had allowed him a chance of redemption for his greatest shame, and recalled the strength to speak them.
“We will guarantee it,” Jurot said. “One hit.”
Adam’s eyes burned once more, the half elf’s lips trembling.
All was silent.
Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 10 (9)
The roars deafened the fort.
I have been waiting for this chapter since Year 0.
I have only written those two words together once in chapter 32, Balrog, and chapter 86, when Jurot thought of it.
I don't think there was a better time for everyone to understand just how ride or die Jurot is.