Omen: 6, 7

“Good morning,” Adam said, holding his sister up. “Who is this big girl?”

Lanarot pulled up her knees to her chest and kicked them out, giggling up at him with her toothy smile.

“What a big girl you are, Lanababy.” Adam pulled her in close to him and he hugged her, causing her to squirm against him, before she eventually nestled her head against his shoulder.

“Who said you could grow so quickly?” Adam asked, brushing her hair gently with a hand. “You aren’t allowed to grow any more than this, okay?”

“If she does not grow how will she become strong?” Jurot asked.

“Why does she need to become strong? We’ll be strong enough that she doesn’t need to worry about it.”

“It is best for us to become powerful, but she must tread her own path.”

“I’ll teach her how to fly so she won’t need to tread her own path,” Adam said, leaning in to nuzzle the girl’s cheek. “So stay small forever.”

“You must grow big and strong,” Jurot said, trying to influence his sister into the correct decision.

Eventually her mother took the babe away, allowing Adam and Jurot to prepare. They worked out lightly that day, before they bathed in a bath house.

“How come no one told me there were multiple bath houses?” Adam asked.

“You did not ask,” Jurot replied, simply.

Adam sighed, shaking his head.

Once slipped on the outfit which had been prepared for him. It was a plain outfit in the Iyrman’s design, save for the symbol of the Rot family which had been embroidered over his heart.

When he had returned, he found a familiar face, one he hadn’t expected to see.

‘What’s with all the pretty Devilkin in the Iyr?’ Adam thought. ‘No, it’s not just the Devilkin.’ Adam had caught sight of the Kan’s, who were waiting for their meal.

Lokat was holding Lanarot in hand, the Devilkin Shaman checking the girl’s weight, height, reactions, and her teeth to see how healthy she was. An assistant beside her was writing down whatever the Shaman had been saying.

“You are growing well,” Lokat said, brushing Lanarot’s hair.

Lanarot was squirmed in the woman’s hands, and was eventually returned back to her mother.

“That’s right,” Adam said, nodding his head, with Jurot adding his own nod to punctuate his point.

“I see that you are doing well for yourself in the Iyr too,” Lokat said, her stern eyes falling on Adam.

“Well, what can I say?” Adam asked, shrugging his shoulders. “I do what I must for my little sister.”

“I will leave you to enjoy her birthday.”

“Leaving so soon?”

“There is work to be done,” Lokat replied, simply. She left, with her assistant in tow.

“I don’t think she likes me…”

“Shamans are busy,” Jurot stated.

“I’m not sure it’s just that.”

“You are thinking too much.”

“Maybe.”

During breakfast the other children made sure to come to Lanarot to place down small pieces of bread, as well as some of their own fruit pieces. They patted her head gently and wished her well. Turot sat beside her, offering much of his own food.

Lanarot was eventually changed into our own attire, matching her brother’s and mother’s clothing, plain save for the family symbol which was embroidered on her chest.

“Look at how cute our sister is,” Adam stated, holding her up to Jurot.

“Yes,” Jurot replied. “Cutest In The Whole World.”

“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.” Adam kissed the girl’s cheek and held her in close to his chest. “Are we going to the extended family?”

“Soon,” Sonarot replied. “Come.” She led them away, taking them out of the blocks of estates to an area which was full of one and two storied buildings. There were plenty of Iyrmen moving through the area.

They arrived at a small open area, where there was an older Iyrman, who was setting up a desk, with all manner of small objects to one side, each which looked like a dark gem. He spread a large sheet of paper over the desk, keeping the sides pinned under large blocks of wood.

Jurot brought over a chair made of wood, the back of which was made of long strips of wood which was wrapped around a thick wooden border. Lanarot was looking all around, having never been to this place in the Iyr before.

Jurot took one side of his mother, and Adam stood on the other side awkwardly, unsure of what was happening.

The old Iyrman stared at them for a long moment, before he began to sketch on the paper with a stylus. He sketched them for ten minutes, mostly looking down at his paper, but every so often looking back up at the Rot family.

Eventually he pulled the sheet of paper away and nodded to Sonarot, who picked up her daughter. Lanarot had been playing with a ribbon, getting it wet with her saliva as she bit and sucked against it.

“Come,” Sonarot said.

“Did he sketch us in ten minutes?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

“Cool. I wonder if Vonda would be interested in watching that.”

They made their way to the Rot family estate, where the extended family welcomed them with a roasted boar and a myriad of other foods.

They all swarmed the little girl, who was shocked to see so many people about her, though she was quickly brought away to a thick bundle of blankets and pillows.

“Now that I think about it…” Adam rubbed his chin and narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t really prepare anything for her first birthday.”

“You have already given her a magical axe,” Jurot said.

“That was for her birth day and not her birthday.”

Jurot blinked.

“Why are you always worried about such queer things?” Jarot asked, the old one armed man appeared with Churot at his side.

“Is it a queer thing to worry about?”

“It is.”

“It’s obviously not.” Adam shook his head at the old man. “I have to make sure my sister is spoiled appropriately.”

“Just what does a babe like her need?”

“She’s got a magic axe already, but she probably needs something else…”

Jarot still wasn’t entirely sure when Adam was joking and when he wasn’t. “Enjoy her birthday by eating good food and drinking as much as you can while Rajin’s stocks last.”

“Is he running out?”

“No, he is to surrender much of his supply to the Iyr.”

“Why?”

“He was asked to surrender it.”

“For no reason?”

“There is a reason, but it has not been stated.”

“I can’t get used to how much you Iyrmen trust one another.”

“It is our way.”

Adam eventually sat down at a nearby table, allowing the others to play with his sister. There were many children who walked up to Lanarot to hand her an item, though her mother made sure she wasn’t putting things in her mouth which would be harmful. Many of the adults came to brush her hair and kiss her forehead.

The little girl was enjoying all the attention she was receiving, giggling wildly with joy. After a short while, a small bowl was brought over, allowing Sonarot to paint the girl’s forehead with a rough tattoo of the Rot family’s symbol.

“What do you think I should give her?” Adam asked.

“I do not know,” Jurot admitted, making a face at the sourness of the drink.

“I should have made her a magical weapon,” Adam said. “No, a magical shield. She doesn’t need two magical weapons.”

Jurot was certain she didn’t need a magical shield either, but at least it made more sense than a second magical axe. “There is no need to give a gift to her. It is the time for children to give gifts when she is so young.”

“So you don’t give gifts to one year olds?”

“No. Some do, but there is no need for it.”

“Still, it feels wrong not to spoil her.”

“She will not remember it.”

“Yes, but I will.”

Jurot remained quiet. It made sense that Adam, who was always so sentimental, to feel as though he needed to give a gift.

Many other Rot family members arrived, many of which Adam hadn’t seen before. There were many children, at least a hundred, and quite a large number of old Iyrmen too. Many of them greeted Jarot and Mulrot first, before going off to see the child.

“You’ve got a big family,” Adam said.

“It is quite large,” Jurot admitted.

“How close are you to the extended Rot family members?”

“I am closer with the oldest generation, but not the younger generations.”

“Why is that?”

“I meet them often when I return in order to tell them the tales.”

“Why is that?”

“So that they may praise me and pat my head,” Jurot said, as though it were completely normal.

“What’s with all the head pats anyway? I’ve seen you get so many from everyone, and even I get them from Aunt.”

“They are warm.”

“Warm?”

Jurot nodded. “The warmth of the Iyr is passed on through patting one’s head. It symbolises that we have returned home, or that we have done well.”

“The Iyr is so weird,” Adam whispered. He wasn’t so daring that he’d say such a thing so loudly. “Oh!”

“Yes?”

“I should give her the twilight fox core!”

Jurot blinked. “You are the weird one, Adam.”

“Am I?” Adam asked, smiling at his brother, before raising his brows in surprise.

The Rot family had been enjoying themselves, but some of the older Iyrmen tensed up when the stranger appeared, causing the others to tense up too.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the old man said, chuckling lightly.

It was an older man with pale skin, and he wore the attire of an Iyrman, though he was no Iyrman. His forehead held a pattern, though it was not of an Iyrman’s design. There was a complicated pattern of a circle and diamonds emanating from it, as well as several rays shooting outward.