The purple light of dusk washed over the snow. Two Iyrmen sat opposite one a a table, silent. Between them were two cups and a bottle of wine, peach wihat which the Rot family loved most. It was a bottle which had bee i family’s vault feions, ever since Jarot’s birth.
Sarot poured his elder brother a cup of wine, before p himself a cup. He had no doubt his brother would have pined about his singur arm if he had waited any longer, for that was how he was.
Jarot stared down at the wi was dark, though he could see his face from the refle of he nearby mp light. For a moment he saw his younger self, the one who had go with his red shield, and had sin all manner of beasts. In his youth, when he was wild and free, he had caused the Iyr all manner of trouble.
A snowfke dropped down into the wine.
“It was snowing then too,” Jarot said, quietly. “When I left the Iyr, when I had bee a man, my forehead still burning. You were a boy then, your forehead bare, your face full of tears. Your eyes asked me to stay, but you did not speak the words.”
“I knew you would not stay even if I asked,” Sarot replied. “You were too wild for the Iyr to keep until you were sixteen.”
Jarot’s lips broke into a wide smile. “They were gd to be rid of me. I trekked through the snow, and made my way through the first vilge. Chief Merl had bee the Chief then, a girl who was forced to bee a woman so young. She was afraid of me when she first saw me, but she did not speak her fear. She treated me like an Iyrman, allowing me a few days to prepare, but I left in the m, without saying goodbye.”
“I thought you’d never return to the Iyr,” Sarot admitted. “I repared to take the role of Family Head. It was not that you were not suited for it, but we did not believe you would return. Not even father.”
“Everyone believed I would go and bee a warlord, as many before me,” Jarot said, nodding his head slowly. Even he had thought the life of a warlord would have suited him. “I would sleep at night uhe stars, and I would see the stars I saw in the Iyr. They were in different pces, but they were there. When I slept, the Iyr came to me in my dreams. No, perhaps I went to the Iyr in my dreams. When I bled, I saw the Iyr too, and when I killed, I saw the Iyr.”
Sarot raised his brows. This was the first time he heard his brother talk about this. “The Iyr had already taken your heart, even then?”
“I do not know, but I did not fet the Iyr, nor the warmth it provided, even during nightval.”
“It was a surprise to see you when I had returned,” Sarot said.
Jarot smiled. “I was leaving then, for a sed time. You had returned after your first few years. Your Iron tag held five holes.”
“It was six holes,” Sarot corrected.
“No,” Jarot stated, firmly. He sipped his wine, squinting his eyes as he looked to the past. “It was five. You slew a wolf and a crimson py-,”
“Python, yes,” Sarot said, slowly nodding his head, recalling the quests.
“It had e towards the forest thanks to the Beast Wave,” Jarot said.
“It must have been five holes, then.” Sarot spun the cup of wine oable between his fingers.
“I still remember the sho your face,” Jarot said. “It was like father’s.”
“They always said I looked like mother.”
“Yes, but you ied that face from father,” Jarot said, smiling. “Mother was better at keeping close her shock.”
“Not her tears, though.”
“Not her tears, no,” Jarot agreed, remembering how the woman cried when he had returned, revealing his scars so proudly.
Sarot thought back to those days, the days whehought his brother would either leave to bee a warlord, or would take the pce of Elder Wrath.
“I married for mother’s sake,” Jarot admitted, though Sarot had long known the reason why someone as wild as Jarot had married. “You, who had always thought you would be the Family Head, had to step back away from the position. I saw how relieved you were.”
“I learnt to build cups,” Sarot said, motioning to the cups, “not families.”
“You thought I would fair better?”
“No, but you married sister,” Sarot retorted.
Jarot slowly nodded his head, sipping the rest of his wine. “It was unfair of me to force you to take a position you never wanted. I uand if it upset you, and perhaps it was wrong of me to pce my trust in you.”
Sarot winced from the words, the blow striking him harshly. “What have I doo lose your trust in me, brother?”
“Sarot.” Jarot’s voice was low. “Are you suitable? I do not know. Are you better than me in these matters? I do not know.” Jarot shrugged his shoulders. “Even if it is not true, I must believe in it. I must believe that you were suitable for the position before you passed it to Mulrot. I must believe, brother.”
Sarot frowaking a sip of his wine, seeing the words which remained on his brother’s lips.
“I must believe in the way of we Iyrmen. I must believe that our way is best, even if it is not true. The rules we have, even if I have rebelled against them, I must believe that they are best.” Jarot thought back to when it was raining on that day. “Even back then, I would have forced my way forward, and I would have beeen by the Chief. I would have been forced to swallow the truth. The Iyr has its rules, it has its s, and I must believe in them.”
“Then you must return,” Sarot said.
“We are not Aldish, Sarot, that we move to act when it best is us. We Iyrmen have alrepared for whatever we must, even if it was inceivable. When Aldnd fell a dozen times since our treaties, it was the Iyr which kept it together. How many times could we have beasters of this nd? Yet our borders are a javelin throw beyond Five Bends, as it has been promised, by the King of the Aldish, and our aors before us.” Jarot pushed away the empty cup.
“And now?” Jarot whispered, as though his words were poison. “The Iyr is outnumbered. A huo o least. There was a time disease ravaged this nd, ahe Iyr did not suffer, for even diseases dare not tread on our nd. We could have quered the nd then, but we did not. When Demo foot on this nd, destroying cities which had stood for hundreds of years, killing more than half the popution of Aldishmen, we could have quered the nd then, but we did not. When the royal family’s influence had fallen low, whehree Duchesses and the Duke came to us, us the treasury of the Bckwater family to march alongside them, what did we Iyrmen do?”
“We called Reimwing, and joined beside the King’s forces, f the pretenders back.”
“At that time, if the Iyr wished for it, we could have asked for more, for the King to be our puppet. For the Bckwater family to remain within the Iyr’s debt, but we did no more than we had to, for that romised. By blood and steel, for that is what an Iyrman’s word is, and will always be.” Jarot tapped the table with his fio atuate his poiedly. “We did so, because we believe it is right. We did so, because we believe it even if it does not be us, for there is glory in the ways of we Iyrmen by such virtues.”
“Greater than gold,” Jarot tinued after a moment of silence. “Greater than diamonds. Greater evehs of Guardians. The Iyrman’s word is in a css of its own, and it is only so, because we believe it to be, a as though it is. Even if it is not true, I must believe in it, Sarot.”
Sarot remained silent, his hands resting against the table between them. It was more like a wall betweehe brothers who could have, if they so wished, reached fher heights in the Iyr.
“How could I hear the words from those called Iyrmen, those who I call Rot, that Goblins ot help the Iyr. That we must take into sideration what is best for the Iyr and our family.” Jarot inhaled deeply, keeping his voice calm. “So what if his children do not share his blood? Why should we deny Jirot and Jarot the same rights we wished to give to them when they all do not share his blood?”
Sarot stared at the watery eyes of his elder brother, who had long passed the stage of anger, and only khe despair arayal of those who he called his family. ‘It was Jarot whht the Devilkin into the Iyr, and it is Jarot whs Goblins into our family.’
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This chapter got me in the heart.
