noveltune [1077] – Y05.077 – No Justice I
[1077] – Y05.077 – No Justice I
[1077] – Y05.077 – No Justice I
It was raining that day.
The light rains of duskval fell upon the roofs, the melancholic melody providing the group company as their carriages shuddered onward. The newly built road wound this way and that way around the hills, but swung generally straight towards the wide river. Adam remembered taking the river years ago, accompanying the Iyr down south, where he met Lucy for the first time.
The carriages slowed to a halt, and the half elf inhaled deeply. He stared out to the hill, which were so different to the hills of the Iyr, so... unsafe. He stepped out, furrowing his brows in confusion, seeing the fort was still a ways away. His heart quickened for a moment, only for it to slow as he stared at the pair of figures in front of him.
One was bronze of skin, with long hair, dark like the night, which fell to his upper back. His square jaw was thick with hair, wild and ragged. The young man wore a large greatsword upon his back, but it was the yellow five pointed star and the purple flowers, inversely coloured to the Gek family, which was his greatest weapon.
The other was grey skinned, his hair having grown, untamed, as though it had grown over the last season, his face also thick with a beard that had grown in as long. Just like his companion, he also wielded a greatsword upon his back, but it was the tattoo on his forehead which was his greatest weapon, a weapon which was identical to another within Adam’s company.
The pair stood, each adorned in the thick furs the Iyrmen often wore in the Aldish lands, for the theatrics of it all. Their furs were worn, roughed from months of remaining upon the road, not just any road, but this road in particular.
“The sheer audacity of you two being this close when you should have returned a few weeks ago,” Adam said, shaking his head at the pair.
Amokan smiled for a moment, but it quickly dropped, as though he had been stabbed. “We expected you in nightval.”
“What are you two doing here?” Adam asked.
Amokan eyed up the group, noting all the familiar faces, save for the figure in the armour, and the drakken, who was no doubt one of those. “Waiting.”
“...”
Amokan stepped towards the half elf, and embraced him, patting his back. “I am sorry, Adam.”
Adam slowly nodded his head, shaking the Iyrman’s forearm. “Yeah.”
“Adam...” Timojin called, before taking the half elf’s forearm in both hands, squeezing it gently. Timojin shook his head slightly.
“Yeah.”
Amokan shook Jurot’s forearm, the pair holding one another’s gaze, speaking an entire conversation with their entire gaze. “They do not know?”
“I do not know,” Jurot admitted.
“They would not have let you come without them if they did.”
Jurot slowly nodded his head, as the pair of Iyrmen greeted each of the others within Adam’s company.
“Hmm,” Rajin groaned quietly as his grandson shook his forearm.
“What are the chances it’s him?” The heavily armoured fellow chuckled.
Rajin continued to lead the group forward, through the large fort, which was more like a village than a fort, a heavily guarded village filled with hundreds of Order members and soldiers. He just needed to get to the Iyr’s section, speak with Elder Peace and her aides, and figure out a way to end this cleanly.
Rajin stopped.
He hadn’t heard the wooden leg striking the stone beneath for two steps, and he glanced backwards. It was then he followed the Iyrman’s eyeline, but he had already understood upon seeing Jarot’s gaze.
There he stood. In his breastplate, wielding a blade at his side, and though he did not wear his full plate, his amulet provided his greatest shield. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, his neatly trimmed beard had been worked that morning, and he wore a smile he did not deserve.
It was him. The First Vice Commander of the Thousand Hunts.
“Ja-,”
“Sir! Kris! Huntsmaster!” Jarot exclaimed, his voice blasting through the air, bringing many gazes to him. His wild grin spread across his face in an instant, but it was his eyes which held a greater wildness within, the wildness that had thought to have died so many years ago, of a Mad Dog whose name had begun to fade.
Kris turned, noting the appearance of the Iyrman, whose wild grin spread a darkness over him, but he smiled upon recognising the face, a smile which only caused Jarot’s grin to spread further. “What have I done to have such good fortune? What is it that brings the great Mad Dog to our camp?”
‘It’s really him? The Mad Dog?’ The young man quickly glanced aside.
Jarot’s grin had grown so wide it caused his eyes to narrow. A flash of heat spread through him and his skin began to turn red.
“So,” came a whisper upon the wind, causing the old man to tense up, “it’s him?”
Jarot turned his head slowly to see the heavily armoured half elf beside him, standing completely tense, doing his absolute best to remain still. “I will speak with him.”
“Okay,” Adam replied.
Kris paused for a moment, feeling all the attention fall to him from the entire group, noting the glares from the entire group. ‘Why do they always look as though they want to slaughter?’
“We have come... to complete our duties,” Jarot said, his neck pulled taut as he smiled at the First Vice Commander of the Order of the Thousand Hunts. He could feel the itch at the back of his skull, telling him he could do it now, and it would be the end of it all, but though the boys were his greatsons, there was another with a greater right.
Timojin stepped in front of the demons, noting how Mara had stood, crossing her hands over her navel, while Lucy’s fists strained to the point he could see her veins.
Amokan pressed his pinky against his cousin’s elbow, his words low, almost drowned out by the gentle rain. “Wait.”
Jurot closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, before exhaling. The shadow gripped at his heart. He also wanted nothing more than to behead the Vice Commander, but if he did that, then what of his brother?
As the rain fell, the water dripped down his visor, blocking his vision. The half elf swallowed, feeling the burning in his eyes, and the burning in his heart. He closed his eyes, understanding that if he saw the man for a moment longer, he would be unable to control himself.
We're going to eat good in January.