Beyond Chaos

The walls led towards the an inner peak, the highest of all peaks, buildings set deep within the mountain and along it, the trees providing shade under the harsh noonval sun, even this early in the morning. The entire group travelled through, with Adam carrying Kizwolima, while Amal cuddled up within Anka's arms.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked as Kizwolima squirmed upon his back, the girl glancing all around, all across the mountain, from peak to peak, but then above.

"Nothing…" The girl could feel the gentle tingle run through her body, closing her eyes as the warmth continued to press upon her, tickling all across her ears tenderly.

Amal, too, rested against Anka's bosom with a deep ease, her breath coming to her easier, even though they were so high up.

"Children have always found our mountain pleasant," Anka admitted. "Even Barak rarely cries."

"Don't you want to go see him?" Adam asked.

"I will see to him this afternoon," the woman assured, not wanting to admit she was worried about the half elf, though perhaps not for his life.

'Do I have a nice sword to gift to him?' the half elf wondered. 'I am sure I do, but shouldn't it be at least a Greater sword? I'm sorry, my dear nephew, this foolish uncle of yours did not bring anything worthy for you. I would hand you the sword meant for Lady Arya, but… I suppose I could hand it to you.'

"Each of the peaks hold a Peak Estate," Dunes explained, noting Adam dangerous thoughts upon his face. "Our Six Blades each hold domain over an estate, while our Eighteen Sheaths assist with managing them. I heard the Third and Sixth Blade are out dealing with the Reavers, along with eight Sheaths."

"Isn't there another set of Blades around the area?"

"Do you mean the Order of the Three Hundred Blades, or do you mean the Blades, like those of the Rose Blade?"

"Yeah," Adam replied, narrowing his eyes. "It's all so confusing…"

Dunes smiled, the group finally approaching the large gate which loomed over the wall leading up to it, which acted as much as a wall as a bridge. However, the gates remained open, allowing them to step through, where they found a large complex, able to house tens of thousands, with several floors, steps set into the mountains leading up and down several floors, and into the mountains deeper through various tunnels. Adam felt it was similar to the Iyr, except much prettier, whereas the Iyr was built more so with efficiency in mind. The buildings, long and wide as they were, were mostly built of wood, with various empty spots where once a building may have rested, but not remained empty.

Yet, it was so eerily empty.

"At one point in time, our Order held so many, though we spread out further into the mountains," Dunes said, though he also knew that if the others returned, this place would still seem so empty.

Adam spotted quite the large number of workers all throughout, each wearing simple clothing and turbans or scarves, carrying blades made of wood at their side. They eyed up the group, but upon seeing Kal Samra and the two Priests, they continued about their business. The others, who were more officially a part of the Order, were heavily armoured, armed with steel blades.

As they travelled around the large central building, a pavilion easily seven stories tall, one for each blade, the last for the Malawi, the group made their way towards a particular longhouse, made of stone, with pillars set upon each corner, holding up the large blades made of stone above the longhouse.

"Kal Samra," a figure called, the figure a Mo, considering how he wore vestments, and was less heavily armoured than most, though the smile upon his face seemed more home to one who was an Oathsworn. His turban covered his head, hiding his baldness, though such a condition did not reach his beard, which flowed down like flames, dyed orange. He waved towards the group. "Mo Dunes, Ka Anka, I have prepared the tea for you and your guests."

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"Mo Adilnur, shukhur," Samra returned, the pair holding one another's hands for a moment. Even Adam could see the look the man gave to Samra, which meant trouble lay ahead.

"The Malawi is teaching," Adilnur said.

Samra returned a hum of understanding, smiling awkwardly. "There is no need to worry, then."

"We need to worry?" Adam whispered.

Dunes shrugged his shoulders, but in a way that suggested they might need to worry.

"The Order of Black Mountain is as wonderful as I thought," someone said, breaking the awkwardness in the air.

"I agree," Tanagek said.

"I see now why you are so healthy, Mo Dunes, for I feel the want to run and swing my blade," Chosen joked, though it was not quite as much of a joke as he thought. For some reason, a warmth spread through him, the kind which wished to step forward and fight.

Taygak had wondered if it was her nerves, but she could feel the same want, and as she glanced towards the other Iyrmen, she noted they felt so comfortable too.

"We often hear that from the Iyrmen who arrive," Adilnur said. "There was one, perhaps you know of him, a Shogek?"

"He is my grandfather," Tanagek replied, surprised that was the name Adilnur would mention, but he smiled.

"We spoke for a short while when he came, forty, no, fifty years ago, I think? He mentioned his wife was pregnant with their first child, and wished to pray to Lady Arya for a strong child."

"He prayed too hard, for he had twin daughters."

"Twin daughters?" The Priest reached up to his forehead, dabbing it lightly with the end of the scarf tied around his turban. "I will pray for him."

"There is no need, for Baktu has welcomed him," Tanagek admitted.

"So young?"

"It was Baktu's Will."

"His soul must rest easy to see how well you have grown," the man said, noting the Iyrman's stance. He was certainly better than an Expert, but as he eyed up Tanagek and Chosen, he noted the two Iyrmen who seemed to have grown even better. "I see you two are also…"

Jurot noted the way the man eyed up his tattoos, as though trying to recall it. He could see the old man struggle, as though it were so obvious, and yet he was missing it. "I am Jurot."

"Jurot. Rot? I am certain I have heard of that name."

"It was my ancestor who freed the devilkin from the oppression of dragons," Jurot said.

"Ah! Yes, yes, Giahroh!" The old man nodded his head. "So many great Iyrmen appear within our temple? How amazing!"

Adam let out a small sigh, glad he wasn't catching any eyes, the half elf reaching up to brush Kizwolima's hair. "I know, I know, I'll get you some fruit soon."

"I see you have brought such an awe inspiring guest too," Adilnur stated, his eyes now completely focused upon the half elf.

'Damn it!'

"Mo Adilnur, this is Adam," Dunes said, patting Adam upon his back, and considering the way Adilnur was looking at the half elf, he probably saw something.

"What brings you here to our fair temple, Your Eminence?" Adilnur asked.

Adam's eyes darted to Dunes beside him, who seemed equally as confused and stressed, but then the Priest's eyes fell down to Adam's holy symbol, realising what the old man was talking about. Adam's eyes also dropped down, then noting the obsidian symbol, his eyes fell back to Adilnur. "Uhm. Hello. I'm here because I wish to discuss with the Malawi a certain matter, as well as to apologise."

"I thought you had come to guide me," Adilnur joked.

"If you need my guidance, I think something has gone very wrong," the half elf joked, easing Dunes' worries beside him.

Samra eyed up the half elf curiously now that Adilnur was paying such keen attention to him. After all, if there was anyone who could stop the Malawi, it would be his elder brother.

Adilnur continued to peer at Adam, and deeper into him, tilting his head lightly. Death clung to the half elf, but not quite as much as he expected, and far too much considering how little he had heard of him. Except, there was also something else that emanated from the half elf.

'Why's he looking at me like that?' the half elf thought, feeling his heart beat quicker, growing more and more nervous.

"I suppose if Lord Sozain has not sent you to guide me, I will consider it my fortune," Adilnur joked, chuckling lightly, causing greater stress to Samra, Dunes, and Anka, the older man then leading the group forward for tea.

"Who is that guy?"

"The Mustashalur of Black Mountain, the Malawi's elder brother," Dunes whispered. "He does not like being called the Mustashalur, so please call him Mo."

"It feels like he knows too much."

"It's his eyes," Dunes whispered. "They see through the world."

"What?"

Dunes held up his hands, as if to say that was all there was to say about it.