Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

[1223] – Y06.123 – The Windy Warhawk III



“Chuh!” the girl sneezed, groaning as her head throbbed, as though someone where drumming upon it. Her entire body filled with a deeper cold, though the blanket kept the chill at bay.

“Do not eat your snot,” Lokat said, the Shaman wiping the girl’s face quickly, trying to stop the girl from licking her lips to remove the fluid, which tasted much better than it had any right to.

“If you wish you eat your snot, you may!” Jarot snarled.

“Silly, babo, how you can say this?” Jirot said, slowly shifting her head to the side, narrowing her tired eyes towards her greatfather. “Sorry Shaman Lok-,”

As the girl fell into a small coughing fit, the old man brought up the cup, filled with a murky liquid. Once the girl was done coughing, she sipped from the glass, but instantly pulled back, making a face as though she had bit into a lemon, and at this point, she would have preferred that.

“Ock!”

“It tastes no good?”

“No good!” Jirot agreed, closing her eyes as her head pounding once more.

“You must drink it, my Jirot, and you will get better.”

“Hoo…” The girl whimpered, causing her twin brother to shuffle a little to the side from afar, the boy looking over towards them with droopy ears, staying far away so he didn’t get sick.

“Jirot, you must finish it…” the old one armed Iyrman said.

“Jirot, you must drink it,” Lokat said, brushing the girl’s sweaty head.

“Hoo…” The girl opened her mouth, drinking it all quickly, before hacking off to one side, her entire body squeezing together, trying to force the taste away. Quickly, Lokat fed her fruit juice, which caused the girl to wince further, until the flavour overwhelmed the bitter taste of medicine.

“”My Jirot drinks so well,” Jarot said, reaching over to brush her thick, curly hair, slick with sweat. The back of his fingers brushed from the towel on her forehead, and along the curve of her skull, so tenderly. “Is there something my Jirot, who is so well behaved, needs?”

“Daddy?” the girl asked, her half glazed eyes, the amber dampened by her sadness.

“Your father… that brat! How can he leave you be like this! When he returns…” Jarot growled quietly, but reached down to pull a strand of hair from the girl’s cheek, brushing it away to the pillow.

“Jirot is going to be okay?” little Jarot asked, following the Shaman out, leaving their babo to keep the girl company.

“The illness will pass and she will play with you soon,” Lokat replied, rubbing the top of the boy’s head. “You should remain strong for your sister, so I will feed you some porridge during dinner, okay?”

“Okay!”

A screech pierced the air.

“Kaka!” Virot cried in front of her mother, shaking her head as the woman offered to pick her up, one hand going to her mouth to soothe herself.

“She is sick, Virot.”

“No!” Virot cried, screeching and screaming, but she quickly stopped as Konarot hugged her, only to start again, stopping as the rest of the triplets hugged her.

“Jirot is sick. We must be good.” Konarot held the girl’s head to her chest.

“Virot, come,” little Jarot said, holding out his small green hand for his younger sister. “I will read to you.”

The girl’s tears still fell, a low groan escaping her lips, but she reached for her brother’s hand, and followed him away, letting him read to her.

“Kaka?” Virot asked.

“Virot, we must remain strong for Jirot, so I will feed you porridge during dinner, okay?” Jarot said, hugging the girl, kissing her forehead, before wiping her face with a cloth, putting it in a basket to one side once it was done, so someone could wash it later in the day.

“Sick?” Virot asked, pouting.

“Yes.”

“No?” Virot’s ears drooped down.

“Yes.”

“Oki.”

Thus, the little green skinned Iyrman read to his younger sister, taking on the role of his twin sister. Since Jirot was not there, he would need to fill the role. He let the girl sit on his lap and read to her, allowing her to suck on her thumb as she cuddled with her elder brother, feeling so warm within his arms.

It was, many miles away, the Windy Warhawk continued to fly upon the ocean, its railing black as night, the silver wings floating behind, having swung once for the initial propelling, but now flanking the sides of the ship, gently fluttering as the wind tickled against them.

The silver sails sparkled slightly, rippling light in the air, while the Captain, who spoke and concentrated on other matters, half danced, as though willing the wind towards him, and then around him towards the sail, the ship darting through the air rapidly, far more rapidly than most ships, or perhaps any ship, those on board had ever stepped upon.

“A bluetit?” a merman called, his arms crossed as he stood casually against the mast of the ship, the dark wood falling towards a band of obsidian near its base, though a thin net of obsidian ran up through the mast, as though grown within the wood.

“Yeah. Blues.”

“Blues is its name?”

“Yeah, his… her…” Adam turned to Blues, brushing along the back of the bird’s neck. “Yeah.”

“Bluetits can change,” the merman said. “I thought you would know, as an elf.”

“Only half, but what does that mean?”

“The elves, they…” The merman made a gesture with his hand which Adam didn’t recognise, before glancing up at the bird. “Are you selling?”

“No, I’m not.”

“No? You like it?”

“Yes, but my children also adore Blues, especially my eldest.” Adam reached up to brush a finger along the bird.

“Bluetits are good luck.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Blues here, he’s been a ball of luck for me. Isn’t that right, Blues?”

“Teet.”

“You don’t do much, but still, I appreciate you, that’s why I buy you so much damn fruit, isn’t that right?” Adam continued to brush a gently finger along the bird, who shuffled closer and rubbed its side against Adam’s cheek. “Do you carry anything with you for good luck?”

The merman reached to his neck, pulling up the string to reveal a scale necklace, which held a single scale. “My first kill. We were both six.”

Adam’s eyes raised in sheer alarm, causing the merman to laugh.

“The Cult of Kyrus, it was not a place for children, but what could I do?” He rubbed his finger along the scale gently, recalling the time, so long ago, a lifetime ago, but he could remember the scene clearly.

“Damn. Sorry.”

“I pray for her soul every night. It was I, or her. I was a moment faster.” The merman shrugged, having come to terms with it long ago, smiling at the half elf.

“I mean, damn. I was going to show you my dagger, but it feels weird now.”

“I am not gay.”

“Yeah, neither am I, and not that kind of dagger,” Adam replied, shaking his head. “Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“You are not?” The merman blinked, as though he had been slapped across the cheek.

“No! I mean, nothing wrong with is, I just prefer women. Ok, maybe, you know, a pretty-, anyway,” Adam said, flushing quickly, the merman still shocked by his words. “Look, this is what I mean. My dagger.”

The merman eyed up the dagger, small, white, with the symbol of a sun and a rose, denoting Life’s Rose, etched into the smooth white handle. The sheath was also white, fit snug, like a glove.

“I have not seen such a dagger before, not one from Life’s Rose.”

“My wife gifted it to me,” Adam said, slowly smirking with pride. “She’s a Ray of Life’s Rose.”

‘What?’ The merman blinked, as though he had been slapped on the other cheek, though much lighter.

“I know, I know, you’re thinking, how did this idiot get a Ray for a wife? Trust me, I ask myself that question everyday, and let me tell you, I still have no idea.”

“I was… thinking that,” the merman said, almost defending himself, but Adam was right. “Why did she marry you?”

“Well, I mean… I’m handsome? I’m strong, I’m smart, when I want to be, and I’m a wonderful person, I think. I haven’t killed many people, specifically, in this land, on the sea, or in the air, much.” Adam cleared his throat, and though he was joking, the merman could see the darkness in his eyes.

“They say you are the grandson of the Mad Dog too.”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“It was difficult to not hear of him so many decades ago.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixty.”

“Sixty?” Adam gasped, the merman shocking him once more. “You don’t look a day over thirty!”

“Thank you?”

“Damn, that’s crazy. Mermen don’t shermen, huh?”

“What?”

“Mermen don’t… bourbon?” Adam asked himself. “Oh! Mermen age like bourbon.”

“You know Berben?”

“It’s a type of alcohol, right?”

“No, yes, but the family?”

“No, not the family.”

“They are the only family who can make bourbon, and you know of the drink, but not the family? Mad Dog did not teach you?”

“The only thing he taught me was how to get my ass beat,” Adam replied, recalling how terrifying his fight with the old man had been all those years ago.

‘This young man is so queer.’

“Not like that, though.”

“No, not like…” The merman tilted his head slightly.

“Everyone makes that face when they realise I’m weird.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, how the hell is this ship so fast?” Adam asked, approaching the edge of the ship, while Brittany and John remained near the merman who leaned against the mast.

‘Is he stupid?’

“I guess, because it’s the Windy Warhawk, and the Captain is O’Shan?”

“Yes.” ‘Okay, maybe he is not.’

“Huh…” Adam looked out to the sea, and as he grabbed the railing tight, he peered over the edge to look at the gentle foam of the ship. It really did seem like it was flying upon the sea, barely disrupting it.

“Be careful, a seadrake might snatch you.”

“Oh? Killing a seadrake would be fun right about now!” Adam stretched his shoulder. “Hello! Seadrake! Come on up!”

‘He’s an idiot.’

“Adam, do not tempt Fate,” Jurot said.

“Yeah, but if we kill a seadrake, we get a nice story.”

“Taygak is here.”

“What, is she not allowed to kill the seadrake with us?” Adam retorted, slightly confused.

“…” Jurot slowly nodded his head, since Adam made a good point, for once.

“Your brother is queer.”

“He is,” Jurot confirmed. “Be careful, a seadrake may appear.”

The merman laughed, smiling wide, but as Jurot returned back to speaking with the other mermen, the merman smiled, since Jurot didn’t seem like he was joking. His eyes darted back to the half elf.

“Just one, no, two of you!” Adam shouted towards the sea. “I’ll settle for three, though!”



Yeah, he's an idiot. 

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