Kirot slowly chewed on a piece of bread while sitting on her father’s lap. Karot lay beside him, resting his head against his father’s thigh. Konarot sat to his other side, holding his pinky finger loosely.

‘Who gave my children permission to be so adorable? Isn’t this illegal? Won’t they be taken away when others find out they’re so cute?’

Adam sighed, feeling the pulsing against his forehead. No matter how lightly he was thinking of the matter, it still weighed heavily on his shoulders. He, who had chosen to be a father, had forgotten how stupid he was.

‘Dragons and Goblins. Dragons and Goblins. Seriously. Dragons? Goblins?’

Kirot handed some of her bread to Karot, who sat up to accept it, before laying back against his father’s thigh.

“Sit up when you eat, silly boy,” Adam said, lifting him up with an arm.

Kirot also handed Konarot some bread, though the girl took the bread and brought it to Kirot’s lips, feeding her instead.

‘Bell?’

[Yes?]

“Adam,” Jurot called, approaching from one side.

“Yes?”

“They fought well,” Jurot replied, looking down at the three children.

“Who wants to cuddle uncle Jurot?” Adam asked. The triplets pressed themselves against their father, clutching at his clothing. “How can you bully your uncle like this, you silly little babbies.”

Jurot sat down beside Konarot. “They won.”

“Oh? Was it close?”

“No.”

“Oh? Well good for them.”

Jurot had expected the fights to be much closer than they were, but the teens had won so handily. ‘Moving with Adam has accelerated our growth.’ It was merely a hypothesis, but Jurot was certain of it.

“Jurot?”

“Yes?”

Adam swallowed. He wanted to ask Jurot for something important, but he didn’t dare to. “They’re really shy right now, but they’ll slowly open up to you.”

Jurot remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

“You can’t bully your uncle, okay? He’s daddy’s brother, and he’s been so nice to me. He’s really strong too, so you don’t have to worry. If anyone tries to bully you, make sure to tell one of us. You can also ask Aunt Sonarot.”

Jurot nodded. “My mother is your nana. My grandfather is your babo.”

“Is a great grandmother then nano?”

“Yes.”

“What about uncle and aunt?”

“Papo and mamo.”

Adam tilted his head. “What about granduncles and grandaunts?”

“Baba and nana.”

“The words are the same?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

“It is our way.”

“You can’t bully your…” Adam looked to Jurot. “So Aunt Sonarot is their nana?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be mean to nana, okay?”

The triplets hugged their father, their tails swaying gently. Adam wrapped his arms around them, pulling them in for a deeper embrace.

“Do you like hugging them?” Jurot asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure they feel happy and safe now, but I also feel so happy and safe too,” Adam replied.

Jurot saw Adam’s brow pulse for a moment. He was happy, that was for certain, but there was something else which weighed on in Adam’s mind. Jurot thought about his grandmother, and what she had done.

“Your children are my nieces and nephews, Adam,” Jurot said. “They will always be accepted within the Rot family.”

Adam reached up to ruffle the children’s hair. “Do you hear that? Your uncle Jurot said you’ll always be accepted here. So you cannot bully him, okay?”

The triplets cooed in response, and Adam accepted it as an affirmative response.

“Thanks, Jurot.”

Jurot bowed his head, before reaching up to rub Konarot’s head. “You can relax within the Iyr, little Konarot.”

The girl squirmed under his touch, but she remained within Adam’s embrace, her head pinned against her father’s neck.

‘Was I like this when I was a boy?’ Jurot thought.

The teens eventually approached Adam, speaking of their success in the bouts. They could feel it, their strength had grown, and no doubt it was because of Adam. They hadn’t done much and yet they had managed to gain more strength.

“I’m glad,” Adam said. “Lord Strom owes me a bunch of gold.”

“Don’t call me Lord Strom,” Strom grumbled as he approached, holding out gourds for the teens and the others.

“Why not?”

“It’s weird.”

Adam smiled. “Fair enough. Does Emperor suit you better?”

“Yes, but it’s uncomfortable when you say it.”

“What do you mean it’s uncomfortable when I say it?”

“I can hear the disdain in your voice.”

Adam smirked. “So you could hear that?”

“I’m dying, not dead.”

“You always have to make things so awkward, don’t you?”

“Will you refuse me even this pleasure?” Strom asked, forming a small pout.

The group joined together to explore the festival, sampling more food, before they eventually returned back to their shared family estate. The mothers were relaxing near the children, who were fast asleep after their meal.

Adam checked on his children quickly, watching as the twins snoozed. He wanted to tickle them, but they were fast asleep, and so resisted the urge to play with them.

“They are your children?” Asoyah asked once Adam returned.

“Yes, they are,” Adam said, smiling at the young boy.

“They are Goblins?”

“Yes.”

“They are Half Dragons?” Asoyah asked, looking to the triplets.

“Yes.”

“My mother and father left to fight a Dragon,” Asoyah said. “It was a feral Dragon, all the way in Aswadasad. They travelled for a very long time to fight the Dragon. They died.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” The awkwardness clung around Adam, who wasn’t sure how to respond to an Iyrman child about matters of the dead.

Asoyah looked up at Adam with a suspicious look. “My mother and father did very good.”

“I’m sure they did.” Adam rubbed the boy’s head, trying to reassure him.

Asoyah looked back to the triplets, who were sitting on the floor in front of their father. “Are you their father?”

“Yes.” Adam smiled, almost chuckling.

“Why?”

“They’re my children.”

Asoyah narrowed his eyes. He understood the concept, and after hearing Adam reply in such a manner, he understood it more. “The Goblins are your children by blood?”

“No, but they are my children.”

“You adopted them?”

“Yes.”

“You are no Iyrman,” the boy said, with a tone full of accusations, as though Adam was living a lie.

“No, but I can adopt them, can’t I?”

“Aldishmen care about blood, but they do not when they do not,” the boy said. He had heard how important blood was to the Aldish, but there were times when some nobles adopted children to carry on their name.

“I’m no Aldishman,” Adam replied, simply.

The boy stared up at Adam with his eyes narrowed, almost shut. He remained staring at the Half Elf for a long while, before looking down to the triplets again. “You are their father because you adopted them?”

“Yes,” Adam replied. He was their father by blood, apparently, but he wasn’t sure how that worked with multiversal travel.

“Will you adopt me too?” Asoyah asked, staring up at Adam once more.

Adam’s smile dropped, giving away to shock. He blinked rapidly as his mind tried to process what he had heard. ‘What?’ “You want me to be your father?”

“You are strong,” Asoyah said. His eyes stared deep into Adam’s, with an intensity Adam wasn’t expecting.

“You have a family already, don’t you?” Adam said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Won’t they be sad that you’ll be my son?”

“You are strong,” the boy repeated, dismissing the words.

“I suppose I am, but so is Jurot,” Adam said. His throat clogged for a moment as his nerves overwhelmed him.

“You are strong.”

Adam swallowed again. ‘Damn, Asoyah. What are you doing to me?’ “If you become my son, then you won’t be an Iyrman.”

Asoyah blinked, his eyes widening. “No?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, quietly. “My children aren’t Iyrmen.”

Asoyah looked to Jurot, staring at the Iyrman the same way Turot would to Adam whenever he said something suspect.

“It is true.”

“They are not Iyrmen?” Asoyah whispered, still unable to believe it, though the words had come from Jurot.

“No.”

Asoyah sat up straighter. He looked to Sonarot, who could see that his young mind was trying to process what he was hearing. He had been indoctrinated by the Iyrmen from young with the ways of the Iyr, and he was struck by the words.

Sonarot placed her hand on his head, allowing him to think. She looked to Adam, who felt the gazes of many other Iyrmen against him. He was still thinking, trying to deal with the situation. The air in the shared estate had grown heavy from the young Iyrman’s words.

“I have a great respect for you Iyrmen,” Strom said, taking a sip of the wine in his cup. “However, I have to admit that sometimes you make questionable choices. They are rare, to the point I cannot think of any from the countless years I have known of you Iyrmen, but…” He shook his head.

Sonarot sighed.

“At the very least…” Adam said, feeling the awkwardness in the air. “Asoyah is cute enough to be my kid.”