Elder Lykan stared at the note. He had read it once when he had received it, and had read it immediately again, before he paused, only to read it a third time.

It didn’t make sense at first, but after reading the note, and seeing a particular name, he realised it had made perfect sense.

He had expected two of the guests, but the third was completely unexpected.

‘Why?’ he thought, wondering why they had arrived.

“Elder Lykan,” called one of his aides.

Lykan sighed, rereading the name of the Half Elf. “Bring me the black chest.”

The aide brought the black chest, and the Front Iyr Elder double checked its contents. An Iyrman, whose greatest skill was their ability to appraise gems, assisted in making sure the gems, which swam in the pile of gold, were of the finest quality.

“Is it confirmed?” Elder Lykan asked.

“It is,” the appraiser said. “Over one hundred thousand gold.”

Elder Lykan nodded. He didn’t care that it was over one hundred thousand gold, as long as it met the target number. Even if there was an extra ten or twenty thousand, it wasn’t a huge issue, since he wanted to make sure that they understood that the Iyr truly valued their dealings.

Now they just had to wait to greet the group.

Wow!

Tariel stared at the huge walls of the Iyr, holding the paper in front of her with the single word. She had even written it on a new page to emphasise just how her thoughts were completely focused on the single word.

Morkarai stared at the wall. It was his first time visiting the Iyr too, though their dealings went back generations. His eyes scanned across the walls, which stretched across the horizon, following the curves of the hills. He had thought the stories were greatly exaggerated, but standing in front of these walls, he felt so…

Small.

‘Why am I here?’ Morkarai thought. ‘If we had these walls, would we have been forced out of our lands generations ago?’

“Wow…” Lady Shamia whispered. Her bodyguards also stared at the walls, in utter awe. ‘If only we had these walls in Hakor, then perhaps the Empire wouldn’t dare to fight…’

The boy, who was pretending to be Kitool’s cousin, broke from his act for a moment. His eyes were wide, scanning across the huge walls. He, too, had heard tales of the walls of the Iyr, but he, like everyone, assumed they had been greatly exaggerated. ‘These walls are greater than even those of West Fort!’

Fate’s Golden stared at the first timers, basking in the sentiment.

They were meeting the force of nature which was the Iyr.

As they approached the large gates, Jurot sent out a call. “Jurot, son of Surot, returns with Guests!”

The group waited, moments passing, but there was no sound. It was then the gates opened, revealing the handsome Front Iyr Elder, who was flanked by a dozen Iyrmen, ten of which were wearing Mithril Rank tags, and the other two wore the long robes of the Shamans.

“It is a pleasure to greet such esteemed Guests,” Lykan called. “I am Elder Lykan.”

Wow!

Tariel tapped the word with her finger, her eyes scanning across the Iyrmen, each of whom wore the Mithril Rank tags of the Adventurer’s Guild she had heard so much about. There were each as powerful as her own Elders, though her Elders wielded the great powers of primal magic.

“I have come to answer the call,” Morkarai said.

“Thank you, Lord Morkarai,” Elder Lykan said. “We are forever gracious for your assistance.”

Morkarai nodded, still feeling so small before the walls.

“Lady Shamia,” Lykan greeted, taking her hand, and raising it, though he did not kiss it. “Clan Waterveil is always welcome.”

“I must give my thanks for accommodating us on such short notice,” Lady Shamia replied, smiling at the Elder.

“It is our honour.” Elder Lykan then stepped forward to Tariel, who stared up at him. Lykan paused, still wondering what she was doing here. “Starmoon Tariel, it is the Iyr’s honour to welcome you.”

Tariel wrote in her book, taking a long while, though Elder Lykan waited patiently. He didn’t want to upset the Druids, especially since he had no clue as to why she was here. The Iyr hadn’t called in the Druids for this matter.

Sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you, but I really wanted to come here!

Elder Lykan bowed his head. “Please, Star Tariel, there is no need for apologies.”

The Shamans both welcomed Tariel, speaking in a language that Adam couldn’t understand, before guiding her into the Iyr, while the rest guided the large group through the gates. They walked up the incline, with tall walls on either side of them in the death pit, towards the gates of the Front Iyr.

Lykan threw a look down to Adam. ‘Of course it just had to be you.’

“Jurot,” Adam said, his eyes scanning the area. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “This is the Front Iyt, isn’t it?”

Jurot’s eyes were scanning around the area too. He was certain they had walked through the terror inducing death pit, where there was a long path which led to the front gates of the front Iyr after many minutes of walking, where a hundred thousand soldiers could be shot and killed with ease.

“Yes,” he said, certain, but this was not the Front Iyr they were familiar with.

It was once a small village, which had a small wooden fence around it, perhaps the least imposing thing one could see after the death pit.

Yet.

The buildings were much larger now, and the first set of buildings were made of stone and earth, curving around them as if they formed a wall against any would be intruders which had survived the death pit. The buildings continued further in, long passed their sight.

Where once the Front Iyr had housed a thousand Iyrmen, it now housed at least five times the size, and perhaps more in Adam’s estimation.

There was also a large fort to one side, which Adam then realised was just a giant estate, with many more under construction all around. Some were in the shape of the typical Iyrman estates and others were more rectangular.

Jurot remained frozen, stunned by the situation. ‘The Iyr is receiving Guests.’ That was one message which had been waiting for them when they had returned to Red Oak. However, he did not expect this. He was too preoccupied with the other message.

“Is the Iyr under attack?” Adam dared to ask Lykan.

“No,” Lykan replied, confidently. It was the truth. For now.

“Is Lanarot okay?” Adam asked, feeling something was wrong.

“Yes. I have not received news otherwise.”

“Then…” Adam looked around. ‘Should I ask?’

“The Iyr is receiving Guests.”

“Guests?” Adam looked to Morkarai, Tariel, and Shamia.

The Half Elf tapped the wow repeatedly, her eyes scanning across the Iyr eagerly.

“Please, Lord Morkarai,” Elder Lykan motioned towards the giant estate which had been built out of stone.

Jurot and Adam exchanged looks. For once, Jurot had felt just like Adam, for this was unprecedented within the Iyr. Even going to war, the Front Iyr did not change like this.

Though there was still construction going on around the Iyr, there were many Iyrmen who were going about their day to day lives, business as usual. They all wore hats or light veils to keep the sun away, though Jaygak was basking within it, like the other Devilkin.

The group were guided by a set of Mithril Rank Iyrmen, though Lady Shamia and Tariel were brought to their own small estates, which the Iyr had built in case they received other Guests like them.

“Whoa…” Adam set his equipment down, feeling his entire body ache for a moment, before he glanced around the large buildings. There were many wooden buildings further into the Front Iyr, and they had been settled near the centre, though some rows away, where it was slightly quieter.

Kitool stayed close with the young boy, placing a hand on his shoulder casually.

“Familiar faces,” called a familiar voice.

“Hey, Ashmir,” Adam called, seeing the great warrior who had been adopted into the Iyr.

“How are you all?” Ashmir asked. He wore the summer clothing of the Iyrmen, which was a short sleeved tunic, and trousers which were cut at the shin.

“Well, well,” Adam said, still looking all about the Iyr.

“Did you just return?” Ashmir asked, looking across the party, nodding to his son, Dunes.

“We did. I was going to say we had quite the story to tell but…”

Ashmir smiled. “Come. Let me invite you to eat.” He nodded to the others too, inviting all of Fate’s Golden.

They followed him to a shared family estate, where there were Mirs and other Iyrmen all about. Adam noted that his three wives were all relaxing, basking under the sun, their feet in small basins full of cool water.

Jurot squinted his eyes. “Great fortune to you, Ashmir.”

“What?” Adam said, noting Jurot was staring at the wives.

Ashmir smiled. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“What?” Adam asked.

“Let us congratulate them for their pregnancy,” Jurot said, taking the other Iyrmen with him.

The three wives welcomed the Iyrmen, and they soon got to chatting.

“Congrats,” Adam said, nodding his head to Ashmir. “Three kids, huh? Good luck.”

“Thank you. They forced me to agree to move to the Front Iyr, saying it was good luck to give birth here.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Though, what can you do, eh? One wife is hard enough to face against, but three? All of whom will be united against you?”

Ashmir laughed. “Still, it seems they were right it was good luck.”

“Really? How’s that?”

“Shamir has taken the title of Elder Wrath.”

“Oh? That’s nice…” Adam stared at Jurot and the others. “Wait. What?”