She stool tall and proud, her skin as blue as the deep sea, her thick hair falling down her shoulders. She was adorned in the looser clothing of the Aswadian people, yellow, with a myriad of contrasting patterns and colours as though she had slipped onto a canvas. Her deep blue eyes were narrowed in great suspicion, her hand clasped like a claw as she clutched the old man’s hand, the dummy within her mouth still. 

“Ahm, you can’t just steal any little kid, no matter how cute or chonky she is,” the half elf said, half in amusement, half in confusion. 

“She is the daughter of a friend,” Ashmir admitted, as the girl sucked upon her dummy lightly, staring up at all the strange faces.  

“You have friends?” Adam asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“More than you.” 

“I have a lot of friends.”

“At least one,” Ashmir confirmed. 

“Your dad’s tongue is as sharp as his spear,” Adam whispered to Dunes beside him, who had eyed up the girl, who was so well built, wondering why she seemed so familiar. 

“This is Amal,” Ashmir informed. “She recently celebrated her first.”

“Her first what?”

“Her first birthday.”

“She’s one?” Adam almost exclaimed, his mouth dropping, his eyes falling upon the girl once more. He turned to look towards Jurot and Kitool, before his eyes darted to Dunes, then finally fell to Kizwolima, who was already quite big and chonky for a little girl, but she was six or seven or so, meanwhile Amal was as big as Konarot when she was four. “By the Divine, what are they feeding her? Have they named a unit after her?”

Dunes noted the half elf’s shock was genuine, though he paused, considering Adam’s words, and after a moment considered it was, in fact, quite humorous. ‘Aswadasad’s greatest accomplishment may be that it has made you funny.’

“I have adopted her as my niece,” Ashmir said, his eyes falling upon the half elf for a long moment. “I intend to take her to the Iyr, and wish to adopt her into the Mir family.”

“Okay,” Jurot said, and with that, he had accepted the girl into the group, and into his heart. 

“If she’s your niece, doesn’t that make her my cousin?” The half elf mused curiously, raising a brow towards the old man, his eyes switching from shock to delight, then that kind of look, the kind that said his pouch was feeling a little too heavy this day, and he needed to spend just ten, maybe twenty, thousand silver, no, it should be gold, shouldn’t it?

“Yes,” Ashmir said, and within moments, the toddler went from potentially living a difficult life within the arena, if she was able to survive beyond a few years considering her father’s numerous enemies, to living a grand life within the Iyr, in which they would forge her into an efficient killing machine, and then seconds later, she had been adopted to live almost like a Princess by a fool of a father. 

“Amal, what a cute name you have! My wife, she’s a Ray you know, so you’ll get along with her so well, and she’ll love your adorable little name, our little Hope, isn’t that right?” The half elf called, cooing towards the girl, and as he reached out to rub her head, he quickly withdrew his hands, straightening up. “Taygak, I’ll leave her in your care, alright?”

“Okay,” Taygak replied, noting how the half elf had stood, trying to meditate the cringe out of himself. 

“I will watch over her too,” Laygak said, taking in the girl within his sights. She reminded him so much of Taygak when his sister was a little girl, the girl slightly taller and wider, but she gave off the same expression, she even stood the same, the kind of stance that was sturdy and ready to take on the world, even though she was just-

She was just a year old?

Laygak narrowed his eyes. The girl was about Kavgak’s size, yet she was at least a couple years younger. ‘Is she as heavy as she looks?’

“She is heavy as she looks,” Taygak said in the tongue of fire, having picked the girl up, her curiosity getting the best of her. 

‘Damn it, I wanted to pick her up too!’ the half elf thought, and for one, he was not the only one who had such a thought, for each of the Iyrmen wished to feel the burn within their arms. 

“Amal, would you like some fruit?” Adam asked.

The girl’s head snapped towards the half elf, sucking her dummy noisily as she processed his words. She had heard her name, and then she had heard fruit, and that was all she needed to hear, as Taygak carried her to the side, settling the girl upon her lap, while the half elf cut into the fruit. 

Kizwolima frowned. 

“Kizwolima, come on,” the half elf called, having noted the girl hadn’t followed her, even though he had definitely mentioned the word fruit to her, one of the few words she knew in the Aswadian tongue. 

Kizwolima chewed upon the fruit slowly, for the girl had already snacked upon fruit not long ago, although her stomach had made more room for such a delicacy, for she had as many stomachs as she had eyes, or so she assumed. 

“I have a new cousin now,” the half elf cooed, glancing over to Amal, who grabbed the fruit with a giant, chonky hand, chewing on the bits of fruit slowly, while Taygak made sure she did not eat too much at one time. 

“Cousin?”

“That’s right! She’s ahm Ashmir’s niece, so doesn’t that make her my cousin?” the half elf asked.

“Oooh! I’m not your cousin because you are a landy?”

“Aha! That’s right, but… I can be your mentor though, can’t I?”

“Mentor?”

“I can train you and teach you and then you’ll become my apprentice, I’ll be your mentor, and then you can use my name to defend yourself if you ever need it.” 

Bael glanced aside to Kitool, who noted his eyes upon her, and followed the mention of his head. 

“I could teach you magic!” The half elf beamed.

“Magic!” Kizwolima gasped, her mouth forming a tiny circle, her eyes also beaming in return.

“Yeah! I can teach you some magic and-,” the half elf stopped when he felt the hand upon his shoulder, a gentle touch, but one that was vaguely familiar in the sense he had only felt it a few times but every time he froze in place. “Hmmm…”

Kizwolima’s eyes fell upon Kitool, who smiled softly and bowed her head at the girl, causing her to return a bow of the head, her own smile so bright. 

“We can just say you are a VIP, a very important person.”

“Oooh!”

“You are essentially a guest of the business,” the half elf said, reaching down to rub her head tenderly. “It’s a very important position, for a very important person.”

“I am so important!” Kizwolima confirmed, nodding her head emphatically. 

“That’s right! Not even the Shen can harm a hair upon your head! Do you know what happened to the last idiot who tried to harm the business’ VIP? It was Margrave, no, uh, Lord Marshal, no, Marshal of the East, Lord Benjamin Gravesea, so they call him! He thought he was tough, he brought an entire army, and the only reason he still lives is because the First Hope of Life’s Rose saved him from my wrath!” The half elf howled with laughter, causing the young girl to laugh too. 

“Wow! Amazing!” 

“That’s right, that’s right, aren’t we so amazing? It was my brother who fought him! I think? Yes, that’s right! Also Jaygak, an Executive of ours that you would have loved talking to, she dealt with some strong knightly woman, though I can’t quite remember her name, I’m bad with names.”

“Mhmm,” Kizwolima confirmed. 

“So you don’t have to worry at all, okay? I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

“Thank you, mister Adam!”

“Once the Prince of the Mermen appears, I’ll make sure to threaten him properly, and if he doesn’t take your security seriously, I’ll have my brother threaten him,” the half elf said, brushing Kizwolima’s face gently, in a brotherly manner, wiping her mouth clean with a cloth. 

“You’re not allowed to threaten a Prince.”

“Why not?”

“He’s a Prince! You can’t threaten a Prince, they take good care of us, and we’re so lucky to be able to work for them, isn’t that so lovely of them?” Kizwolima asked. 

The need to kill the Prince increased within the half elf’s heart, for certainly the world would be a better place without such evil within it. “Well, you see, Kizwolima, someone like me, I’m someone that can threaten a Prince because…”

Bael smiled slightly, since Adam was one of the few around them who couldn’t kill a Prince without official punishment. The Iyrmen could at least do so against the Aldish, and himself? 

Well…

“I can’t really tell you why, it’s a secret, but maybe one day you’ll find out?” The half elf laughed, causing Kizwolima to laugh too, though she stopped, certain that killing a Prince was bad and a big deal, but mister Adam had been so nice to her. 

“Are you a Prince too, mister Adam?”

“Let’s just say that at one point I did hold quite the title, but I gave it up.”

“Why?”

“Some things are more important than titles and gold.”

“Gold too?” The girl gasped. 

“Even fruit.”

Kizwolima raised her brows in shock, glancing aside, unsure if she could agree with that. 

“For example, your mother and father?” 

“Yes! I love my mother and father more than fruit and gold, and more than the Prince, but you cannot tell him that,” the girl whispered. 

“Haha!” Adam smiled and laughed, burying his worries deep within his heart. 

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At least you understand, Kizwolima.