Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG
Interlude: The Young, The Meek

"Mummy, mummy,” the girl called, half bouncing upon each step as she charged her mother, who swiftly lifted her daughter up within her arms, hugging her tight.

“Virot, my dear,” Vonda called, her voice gentle and soothing, the woman reaching down to ruffle the boy’s hair, who smiled brightly up at his aunt. “Damrot.”

“Kako,” the boy called, his expectant eyes sparkling, causing the woman to pick him up too.

Jirot vibrated slightly, glancing aside to her sister, and after a few moments, the older children also charged at their mother, the avalanche of affection assaulting their mother. Once they allowed her to settle herself, they all sat upon and around their mother, allowing the youngest two to sit upon their mother’s lap.

“Xarot is not here because he is sleeping, mummy, but he loves you too,” Jirot assured, placing a hand upon her mother’s.

“I am certain,” the woman replied, smiling warmly down at her daughter, who was so sensible.

“You worked hard, mummy?”

“I did.”

“Good job, mummy,” Jirot said, patting the back of her mother’s hand approvingly. “Even though I miss you, it is good that you are working so hard.”

“I will take a break soon,” Vonda promised.

“Daddy has to take breaks today, so mummy, you should also take breaks,” Jirot said.

“I do not work as much as your father, so I already take longer breaks,” Vonda stated.

“Oh?” Jirot replied, raising her brows in such a way that implied she already knew such a thing, but didn’t want to admit to it. “Still, mummy, you need to take breaks too, more breaks.”

“I needed to finish some light work, but I will take more breaks,” the woman promised, as Virot shifted slightly against her bosom, the girl burying herself deeper within her mother’s warmth.

“Even though I miss you, mummy, I played with babo and nano today,” the girl said. “I went to see babo Malfev. We ate bread and cheese, and kako, she ate so much bread, but of course, since kako is kako.”

Vonda smiled wider. “Did you eat so much cheese, because Jirot is Jirot?”

Jirot flushed slightly, a guilty smile upon her lips. “Jarot also eat so much cheese! Not as much as me, because he did not want so much cheese, but he ate cheese so well, mummy!”

“Well done, my Jarot,” Vonda called out, the boy half flushing, smiling so shyly towards his mother, before looking down at the hem of his shorts, gently fiddling with it.

“Mummy…” Konarot called. “Babo Dogek played with me today.”

Vonda glanced aside, towards their grandmother’s brother, or she supposed, her own uncle? The man was drinking tea with his sister, the pair speaking of their mother and father, who had long passed. She recalled their father and mother had passed quickly, and her children would never have the opportunity to meet with them, to hear the frustration in the their greatfather’s voice of their grandmother’s tales when she was a girl.

Tonagek yawned, stretching out his neck, the old man feeling the burning within his arms and back from playing with the triplets, who held such boundless energy. He realised quickly that though the triplets often napped daily during noonval due to their exhaustion, they burned brighter in the day.

“Are you still waking early for the farming?”

“Still,” Tanagek confirmed. “My ankle is not much an issue within the fields, it is only when I need to carry the sacks, but Mosen carries them.”

“How much longer will the Shamans raise the crops?”

“Your nephew knows,” Tanagek said, though not as an Aldish or Aswadian might, for his voice was full of admiration for the young Iyrman. “We spoke lightly this morning. He seems to be enjoying himself, but I cannot tell.”

“If he has his books and he is counting, he is happy,” Sonarot joked, though there was so much truth within his words.

“Elder Zijin is truly wise,” Tanagek said, the Iyrman’s lips twitching, while Sonarot smirked wide. After all, after Churot woke early to complete his calculations, too early for a certain Mad Dog, he was given most of the day off to play within the extended estate, where he was raised, allowing the Mad Dog to spoil him again to keep him at bay.

“Will you go?” Sonarot asked.

“To deal with the Reavers?” Tanagek asked, thinking upon the question for a moment. “I do not know. This ankle of mine makes it difficult, but… there are few my age as skilled as I, and those without children cannot go. Tanagek might be able to receive permission, he is strong enough, but…”

“Have you spoken to him of marriage?” Sonarot asked, though she was riling her brother up, since they had spoken of it enough.

“That boy! He is twenty four now! He says he will ask the Elders for permission to continue adventuring until he is thirty! He does not intend to become a Great Elder, why does he need to extend his adventuring?” Tanagek complained, stopping as Konarot approached, the girl holding the tray of snacks.

“Nana, baba,” Konarot called, placing the tray onto the table, using her tail to stabilise herself as she tip toed. “Babo cut the fruit.”

Tanagek reached down to wipe her mouth, for surely the Mad Dog must have fed her from his own fingers the moments her own were busy holding the tray, trapping her. “Did you enjoy playing today?”

“Yes, baba.”

“You should call me granduncle, since you are five now,” Tanagek said, brushing her hair tenderly.

“Grandfather?” Konarot asked, blinking.

Tanagek let out a complication sigh, bringing the girl to his chest, holding her close. He brushed her cheek tenderly. “I am very lucky to have such a wonderful granddaughter like you.”

“You are still young, so you may continue to call us baba and nana,” Sonarot said, seeing that the girl was still too uncomfortable to let go of this stage of her childhood, and she was still uncertain she could allow the girl to leave such a stage either, since she had been so mature for her age, and her heart could not yet allow her to grow up even quicker.

“Nana…” Konarot called, hugging the woman, her tail swaying from side to side excitedly, stopping a moment as her grandmother kissed her forehead, before continuing to sway in satisfaction.

Kirot held onto her greatmother’s hand, staring up at her, her eyes taking in the sight of the old woman’s red skin. “Nano, do you want peppers too?”

“No, no, my Kirot,” Gangak replied, bringing a slice of apple to the girl’s lips, allowing the girl to eat from her fingers. “Do you want some cold water?”

Kirot shook her head at first, but her brows raised, her tail freezing in place for a moment. “Yes, nano, please.”

“You must drink more water since it is so hot for you,” the old woman said, lifting the girl up within her arms.

The old one legged Iyrman took in the sight of his greatchildren, noting how loud and boisterous his greatdaughters were, and how quiet and meek his greatsons were. ‘The world will be so unkind to you, my Karot, my Jarot…’

A younger teen approached the estate, a boy who would one day wear the blue circle flanked by diamonds. He sighed, shaking his head, before catching the Mad Dog’s sight, waving towards his granduncle, before he approached Sonarot.

“What happened?”

“Your grandson, he…” The teen threw out his hands.

Jarot followed his daughter towards the cabin, and a short while later, his youngest greatson beamed up towards him so innocently. “It is a good thing that you are not as meek, but… you should show mercy to your aunts and uncles who need to watch over you in the day.”

“Kekeke!” The boy almost cackled within the old man’s arm and chest, while his grandmother assisted in cleaning up after his mess.

“Karot, you should call me grandfather too, since I also found you!” Mosen declared, holding up the boy in front of him.

“Dado, why are you bullying my papa?” Jirot asked, pointing at him with her accusatory hand.

“My Jirot, are you going to bully me too?” Mosen asked, hugging Karot tight within his chest.

“If you do not surrender my papa…” Jirot crossed her arms.

“Demon Lord, do you think you can defeat me?” Mosen undid the strap of his sword, and raised his sheathed blade. “I am Demon Slayer Mo! I have torn through at least a thousand demons to come and defeat you!”

“Should I beat him, my dear Jirot?” the old Jarot asked, surrendering his youngest greatson to the boy’s mother, his ears ringing from all the squeals of delight.

“Babo, you are too old now, so you must retire,” Jirot said, patting the side of his calf thigh gently. She turned upon her heel, grunting as she rubbed her knees, for all the strongest, as in, all the oldest, Iyrmen did so whenever they stood, and she clasped her hands behind my back. “You think you are so tough, Demon Slayer Mo?”

“I am so tough!” Mosen declared, from a much realer place within his heart. He glanced aside towards his daughter, who smiled up at him from within her uncle’s lap, and he looked down at Jirot, who smirked at him knowingly.

“Jarot,” Jirot called, squatting down slightly to brace herself, holding out her hands. “We must beat him up!”

Little Jarot looked up towards Mosen, who glanced down at him, and then he looked to Karot. “Papa, we must beat him up.”

Karot looked to Mosen from within his arm. He then looked to Jirot, who was making noises already in order to cast her imaginary Fireball. He then looked back up to Mosen. Karot shrugged his shoulders. “Dado, I have to beat you up.”

At least they're not meek enough not to beat up their dado.