noveltune [1135] – Y06.035 – Working Hard
[1135] – Y06.035 – Working Hard
[1135] – Y06.035 – Working Hard
“I’m such an idiot,” his voice broke through the silence that was his noisy chattering. “The business didn’t pay off the weapon last year.”
The half elf rubbed his forehead, pulsing not because of his daughter’s scream as she found him sneaking a kiss onto the back of his wife’s hand, but because his stupidity was beginning to pound deep into his skull.
“We did,” Vonda said, reaching out a hand, brushing her finger tips along his cheek, though quickly brought it to her daughter’s face as the girl sat up and narrowed her eyes, ready to complain. She truly was her sister’s sister.
“We did?” Adam asked, unable to contain the doubt for his wife, but quickly sitting up taller. “I mean, I don’t recall.”
“It was paid,” Vonda stated, smiling slightly towards the half elf, who narrowed his eyes slightly.
“I’m going to have to believe you because I probably did forget, but could you write it into the book?” @@@@
“I will.”
‘I don’t remember that at all,’ Adam thought, scratching the side of his cheek, picking at his skin lightly, but stopped once Vonda hooked her finger with his.
“Eyah!” Virot complained.
“No,” Vonda stated firmly. “No more.”
“Eyah!”
“No.”
“Eyah?”
“No.”
Virot blinked up at her mother, though surrendered to sucking her thumb, the girl hiding within her mother’s bosom. As she glanced back up at her mother, the woman beamed down at her, and Virot smiled back at the reassurance, cuddling up closer to her mother’s bosom once more.
‘I can’t believe she’s monopolising her like this,’ Adam thought, to both his wife and daughter.
“Vonda must have paid it,” Jurot eventually said, the pair of brothers sipping away at their grainwine, watered down by water and the fruit of a juice.
“Aaaah,” Adam replied, having thought far too deeply for a solution that was truly so simple. ‘Right. I need to stop forgetting she can enchant now.’
“...” Jurot stared expectantly.
“I’m just thinking, isn’t my daughter too smart? She’s warning me about working too hard. Truly, she is so wise.”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t I so lucky to have such a great wife too?”
“Yes.”
“So why am I always trying to get myself killed?” Adam asked, letting out a low groan, the half elf sipping at his grainwine, the flavours dancing against his tongue, the sourness contrasting against the sweetness of the fruit.
“I do not know.”
“I should stop.”
“Yes.”
“They all say I’m an idiot,” Adam huffed, but before he could continued, Jurot replied.
“Yes.”
“Okay, don’t rush to defend me.”
“Okay.”
“...”
“...”
“Oh, crap.”
“What is it?”
“I forgot to... ask the Enchanter to enchant the weapons for Black Mountain.”
“...”
“...”
“Jirot is going to be so mad.”
“I can protect you.”
“From Jirot?”
“...”
Jirot caught Jarot’s eyes, the boy’s eyes also filling with the realisation. “I will work harder than daddy and I will annoy him!”
Jurot blinked. He wasn’t sure how to deal with Jirot, so decided to keep as quiet as a mouse as the girl huffed and complained, plotting the way to become stronger, which held various implausible ideas. The only issue with Jurot’s thought was that she was her father’s daughter and her greatfather’s greatdaughter.
Jurot explained to Vonda about the conversation, while Jirot peppered her little sister with kisses, making sure she was okay. Virot squealed loudly, the girl holding her sister’s hand, trapping her. Damrot waited for Jirot’s affection in the meanwhile, his eyes falling to Jarot, who hugged the boy, not realising that he did so because he was reminded of himself.
“Jirot, are you going to work hard to annoy your father?” Vonda asked.
“Yes! I will work so hard, mummy!” Jirot declared proudly, as proudly as only an Iyrman could.
“Then you will need to work hard at school.”
Jirot blinked, her resolute eyes filling with betrayal, but the girl inhaled deeply. “I will do it, mummy!”
Jurot had slain a number of dragons, but he side eyed the Priest beside him, far more impressed by her ability to deal with children, and not just any children, but Jirot, of all children.
The next morning, Jirot gasped, for her hard work had paid off before she had even begun. It was the last day of the month, and the children all gathered to eat in the morning. Little Jarot had begun to eat more than a third of his potato, and his sister finished it off.
“Kavgak, the wyvern has picked up Jirot, what are you going to do?” Adam asked, motioning towards the red skinned girl, whose brows furrowed in thought.
“Bullying niece?” Kavgak asked.
“That’s right.”
Kavgak inhaled deeply, her eyes turning to a glare, the girl shaking her head. The girl picked up her twenty sided die, clenching it tight in hand. “Cannot!”
“What do you want to do?”
“Kill!”
“Fair enough,” Adam replied, as the girl tossed her die forward, bouncing off the side of the leather, before coming to a halt.
“What number is that?”
“One.”
“And?”
“Four.”
“Which makes?”
Jirot inhaled, but upon seeing her father’s keen eyes the girl grabbed her cup of juice and sipped it innocently. ‘I was not going to say it! I was not!’
“One. Four.” Kavgak stared deeply at the die.
“How old is Taygak turning this year?” Adam asked.
“Thirteen!” the girl said confidently.
Jirot cackled, reaching up to her forehead, rubbing it gently. “Silly kako! It is not thirteen, it is fourteen!”
Adam reached up to cover his eyes, feeling the pain of the words, for how could Taygak turn fourteen this year of all years? No, she was still eight, wasn’t she?
‘You do not need to work hard to hurt your father,’ Jurot thought.
Once the game was over, Adam picked up Jirot. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“Daddy is going to work for just a little bit, and then, before lunch, he’s going to come back.”
“Really?” Jirot asked, raising a brow.
“Really. In fact, daddy is going to...” Adam glanced around, before leaning in to whisper into her ear. “You can’t tell anyone, but daddy is...” Adam quickly realised just how little he could tell his daughter, who would definitely blabber accidentally. “Hmmm. Daddy is working so he can cause trouble like you.”
“I do not cause trouble!” Jirot replied, before placing a hand on her father’s shoulder. “Just a little bit?”
“It might be more than just a little bit,” Adam admitted.
“What am I to do with you?” Jirot asked.
Adam kept his word, working not for very long, but by the time he had returned, the business had swelled. His eyes darted from side to side, noting the large number of Iyrmen who had appeared, each at least in their thirties, and some he recognised.
‘What’s going on?’
Adam whispers to Jirot he's going to cause trouble.
The Iyr suddenly sends a bunch of Iyrmen.
Jirot is a snitch?