Ahnya. Was there no limit to this girl?
I thought the same thing. Ahnya’s actions have so beautifully highlighted the changes between the other two As. Her (Ahnya’s) little gesture to comfort Athlain brought a tear.

I sincerely hoped that today’s episode would not find its way into song.
Good luck with that.

“Oh look, she wants to hold your hand! Isn’t that romantic?”
Of course she wanted her sword! You have let us know that part of her so well.

A lovely and very satisfying aftermath that is also kind of a gentle (at least while Athynae is asleep) beginning.

Yes...speechless again! *waving head in pure delight*

Now then. About Thyna, .i'm sure that deep down inside her she actually HAS a romantic spot... But I agree it's well hidden.

S.G.M

I used to enjoy a very large number of stories on these forums but these days I just don't have the time so I read a very small number of those that have been writing for a long time. I initially came here because of stories by two writers, you and Minque. If I remember correctly (it has been some years) I read Minque's story first and then got hooked, which is what caused me to join these forums. Then I discovered your story and became addicted to it as well.

Unfortunately Minque no longer writes, which I can definitely understand, and I'll admit that the inspiration to write almost never hits me these days either.

Anyways enough rambling, I'm glad you're still writing. I'm still reading even though I often have to catch up several updates each time.

I'm with Kiln here - it's getting difficult to keep up with all the new stories these days. I should play catch up soon - like when I'm done with school . . .

Anyway Trey, your fits and starts fit in perfectly with my schedule these days! So that's just fine!

ohh you make me blush Mr Oven! And ..well..I'm not exactly POSTING updates at the time being...and I'm actually not putting words on paper so very much..BUT BUT....in my head is the continuation of Serene slowly taking form.....just so you know

People underestimate the value of good thinking time... ...

As I've maintained since the start, I will go back and read everyone's story from the start, at some point...I'm just waiting for the time to become available...It will, yes it will...I know...

Other than the horror that the server may eat all the stories if it goes down, I'm sure that none of the stories are going anywhere anytime soon...

Oh, sorry...As you were... ...

*Applauds heartily some more...Because he can...*... ...

@Everyone- Because my own RL situation has so limited my reading time, I appreciate all the more those who continue to read and respond. Like McB, I keep telling myself- “I WILL get time to read everyone’s words- dangit.” Anyway, my thanks to you all.

@Black Hand- My follicles thank you. And also- many thanks for allowing the “borrowing” of Sethyas- which will continue for the next several posts….

@McBadgere- “…I want to write like this.” Wow. Um… that leaves me pretty much speechless- because I have read and admired your words- and continue to do both. Thank you. Maces- yes. I always found it hilarious in various fantasy RPGs that they were considered OK for priests because they are “not designed as blood-letting weapons.” “Crushing, maiming, pulverizing, pulping- but hey- no edge- so the Church says it’s all right” Note to self to add some characters with names starting with “B”…. And the concept of other stories is an absolute gem- and is something that has slowly penetrated my thick skull. My thanks to you, my friend.

@haute- An area of my writing that I have been most pleased with has been recognizing and drawing upon ALL the stories that go into making the “main story.” In large part, I have done so because I saw how effective and pleasing that approach has been from other writers- yourself among them. And it is quite wonderful to know that you have so many more stories waiting in the wings! Athlain’s development is something I wanted to show as “realistically” and gradually as possible. In the beginning, I actually envisioned him as a sheltered, somewhat spoiled , “rich kid.” But- he had a solid foundation to build upon once he was given a chance to grow. And I figured Julian’s biographer would recognize the comfort of one’s trusted weapons, especially while recovering from an injury.

@mALX- Thank you so much for reading. And I am really pleased by your response to the excerpt from “The Way of the Sword”- because, well- I made it up myself. The trouble with that is- I may have to write the rest of the book….

@Grits- Thirsk has become a trove of wonderful characters, each with their own stories. Bryn and Svenja are “in-game,” but have been given much more to say. Ahnya is a pure invention of my co-author, and a wonderfully welcome one. I have plans for “Athlain the Bold” (the song), but those must await the posting of the Epilogue (which is mostly already written – gulp). I figured everyone except Ahnya would know that Dreamer is Thyna’s “security blanket- but writing that bit made me smile. Glad it worked for you, as well. The next couple of posts will show Athynae in a somewhat different light also.

@minque- Oh, yes, our girl is far more “romantic” than she will ever admit, even to herself. (But I never said that).

Where we are- Athynae and Athlain have finally had their first “sparring session” since the whole “you stole my katana! I only did it to make it better! You are a thief! And you are a princess!” bit. Due to Bryn’s wise insistence that he would not allow them to kill each other with anything HE had crafted, they used practice weapons. Which did not prevent Athynae from bashing her “best friend” unmercifully- or said “best friend” from finally actually HITTING her. The result was the sort of injury one might expect from a mace wielded by a trained Legion officer. Ahnya- as is becoming routine for her- showed heart and determination, as Athynae’s second when it was over, and as Athlain’s friend as he contemplated the damage he had caused. Meanwhile, a certain mysterious Dunmer assassin observed the proceedings from a distance- and drew some conclusions, even as he eased the draw on his bow-string. And thanks to Black Hand, that Dunmer will be making a guest appearance. My thanks to him. And my especial thanks to my co-author for what we are about to read.

-------------------------------------------------------------


At the edge of consciousness I felt someone carrying me; if my shoulder hadn't been hurting so badly I would have been mortified, but then the thought I had had before I tackled Athlain rolled over me

"Lainie, danger," was all I could mutter.

“Easy lass; I’ve got ye. The laddie is fine other than some stomach issues. Guess it was something he ate.”

I tried to shift my weight in hopes that it would ease the searing pain and all it did was send me back into darkness. It was a short reprieve as I came to just as Bryn was placing me on my bed. Svenja was uttering and muttering as she and I assumed Ahnya removed my armor with little or no help from me. The arm was useless and the pain there was rendering every other part of my body almost as incompetent. A fleeting thought- How many times had Athlain been in this much pain by my hand?

“Don’t try any of your healing magic, Athynae.” Svenja’s voice broke as she said it. “The pain could prevent the spell from working properly. I’ll get the healing started and once we’ve got the insides properly set then you may do as you wish.”

There was a pause and as much as I could focus on her face, it was waiting for me to say something. “Do you understand?” She looked almost angry.

“I understand.” I hadn’t planned on it anyway. One- what she said was exactly right and two- this was the least that I deserved.

“Drink this; don’t even let it stop in your mouth.” She put the vial to my lips and her hand to the back of my head and the liquid had no sooner hit my tongue and started down my throat when I realized what she’d done. She had added poppy to the healing draught; she didn’t trust me to leave it to her, and she was trying to send me into a 24-hour abyss.

I’d only had poppy once before when the Sisters Red had decided they didn’t want me meddling in a plot they were cooking up for Athlain. It was not a comfortable rest. Although I don’t think my body moved, my mind was awash with dreams both good and bad, unrealistic, colorful, frightening, turning into peaceful and comforting as quickly as an arrow clears the bow.

The wrapping began and the draught must have had some sort of pain reliever as well because it didn’t seem quite as intense, or maybe it was the poppy dulling my mind, who knows. “Stop, Svenja, please.” My voice was low and cracking, I wondered if she’d even heard.

“What is it child?”

“It isn’t set as it should be, something feels out of place. I can’t move it to decide; my fingers are completely dead.”

She said something to someone, Ahnya or Athlain, I’m not sure. She removed the two layers of cotton wrapping and two very strong hands, one on the front of my shoulder and one on the back, placed pressure, then Svenja’s cool hand slid down my shoulder as she took my elbow in her other hand and a quick….

I wondered if the scream I heard was just in my head or if I had allowed it to escape my lips, but in just that span of time my fingers were burning like I’d stuck them in the fire and I collapsed into the hands that were supporting my shoulder. I barely felt the pillow before total blackness engulfed me.

The forest was thick and dark and I was defenseless, I could find nothing to wrap my hand around, no weapon, but the foreboding I felt…. I kept trying to find her hilt in the dark; the evil was everywhere; I needed to defend myself. Open, close, open close. “Please Azura, help me. I need her, I need Dreamer, PLEASE!” And no sooner had I uttered the prayer than I felt the familiar grip in my hand. I wrapped my fingers around her and the entire forest sighed with me; in this dream, it knew, like I did, this sword would let no harm come. I laughed at the irony; the sword can only do what the wielder directs it to. It will not block a giant meat tenderizer from removing an arm unless it is guided to that purpose. Frustration had caused me to drop my guard and thus my present circumstance. Caught in a drug-induced dream to keep me still. Svenja, this might not bode well for you when all is said and done.

Colors changed and the wolves were chasing me, a multitude of them, all sizes and shapes. There were too many to turn and fight, too many…. They became familiar figures. Mother, Rah, Seth…Father…all of them, then they were wolves again, back and forth. Some small part of my subconscious knew this was just a dream but I couldn’t stop running; I couldn’t find the hole in the scenery to step out of the fear as I ran toward the line that was the end of the world.
Black again.

Laughter, children playing, fields of flowers, poppies, beautiful. The fragrance was like sunshine. One child sat alone on a boulder with a bow; she was the guardian of them all, scouring the edges of the field for danger. She was alone but she wasn’t lonely; she loved them all. It was her choice to be where she was and she didn’t wish to be anywhere else. Even as the children beckoned her to join them she would not; their safety took precedence over her behaving irrationally, running amok, being a child herself. Tag was the game, but playing wasn’t her forte.

“Hello my princess.” The voice…

“Uncle Seth? Why are you here? The children are playing and I am guarding them.”

“Seems to me you should have been guarding yourself a bit more effectively. You dropped your shoulder again and for once Athlain caught the opening. You have paid a hefty price for being so impulsive.”

“I got only what I deserved. I beat him without mercy for an age; left him bruised, bleeding, broken, unconscious…I only wish this had happened sooner. He has accomplished on his own what I could never teach him Uncle Seth. I feel as if I failed my mission, my purpose- only to see him run away from all that he had ever known so that he could find the man that I knew was there.” Even in the dream I could feel the hot tears scorching my cheeks.

“Nay Athynae, that is not true. I saw all that you have taught him and more. Had you not, he would not be where he is now. Were it not for you, he would have been dead long before now.”

I wanted to feel the comfort he intended but I couldn’t find what he saw. I did still feel the elation I had felt when Athlain bested me, but now it didn’t seem quite as satisfying as it had then.

“I would have gone with him.” I could feel myself getting lost but somehow these were all words that I needed to say. “I would have followed him to the realm of the mad god if that is what he wished.”

“He did not wish for you to go at all, princess. He needed to find himself and he could not do that in your company.”

“He is not my best friend anymore; he does not feel the same as I. He is not the same person and he has grown apart from me.”

“He has grown no more than you have. But you were never overshadowed; you have always been the person you are, never hindered by who your…parents…are.” Something in his voice caught and it rang a bell somewhere else in my head but that’s all.

“He didn’t have to live in a shadow if I didn’t.”

“Each of us is our own person and we must face our own challenges in order to discover who we truly are. It is part fate and part not; it is how we see the world and how we allow the world to see us. Some of us never show anyone anything but the character we have created for them to see and some of us, like you, are always the same. You do not act any other way than the way you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will, someday. Rest now and heal; you have set yourself a high test this time, princess. And you must know, without doubt, that you are ready to face Hircine and send him back to whence he came. You’ve never done anything in your life in a small way and this is no exception- but princess- you do not go alone. You have a warrior at your side.”

I felt his hand slip away from mine and my heart felt as if it was freezing.

Dream, dream, dream…just a dream, all just a dream. Poppy. I was dreaming.

Wasn’t I?

I am alone, a space with no contour, no color, sitting on air, seeing nothing, only feeling. Am I so alone because that is the way I designed it? Did everyone run away from me or did I push them? Did they know how much I truly cared for them?

The colors changed into swirling dark clouds and red flashes and coming through the mist was a monster or a man, I’m not sure. His face was obscured by a mask but his body was like chiseled stone. And then a voice I was far too familiar with….

“So you are more legend than truth, are you not, daughter of Serene? I was beginning to think I was going to actually be challenged for the first time in a thousand years, but alas, after seeing what transpired between you and the offspring of the Nerevarine I am afraid you will both die and quickly. So sad since you have fought so hard thus far. You and he have far too much heart to be warriors or assassins or the Head of Great House Redoran for that matter. Your mother has no heart Athynae. She is a great actress though; you believe as everyone else does, that her very existence is sustained by a love that she does not even have.”

“I may die, I care not, but you WILL go down with me one way or another you giant pile of dog dung. I will send you back to the Oblivion you spawned from and know this- if I do survive it will be my sole purpose to make sure you stay there. I know that everything that has happened is because of you. Athlain was drawn here by your game, the pieces you placed on the board and by extension, so was I, and now we are forced to play the game that you have designed. But leave the rest of our families out of this. You do not know my mother or his father any better than you know us; you are just using words to play on my emotions. I’ll let you in on a secret- I have none. I do not do what I do out of anything less than duty, and I take that very seriously. It is my duty to be his guard and it is his duty to be mine, no more, no less.”

His laughter boomed in my head long after the apparition faded.

I smelled tea….

OOoh, that was proper epic right there!...

Always do love a good dreamscape me...

Oooh, 24 hours asleep...Mmmm...*Nods and sighs wistfully*...That would be soooo nice... ...

Aaamywho...As ever, excellently amazing writing...The pre-dream stuff was brilliant, but then when she was under, loved the idea of the forest, and that even in the dream she'd set herself apart and above everyone else... ...Amazing stuff...

Then, Seth...*Applauds*...Damn...I know where I'm off to after this... ...



That was proper brilliance right there...I absolutely loved that line...Simple, but brilliant...

Creepy and scary ending...*Raises eyebrow*...Do it again... ...

Absolutely amazing...Loved it hugely...

As a very wise man is fond of observing..."And there's more..."...*Giggles excitedly*...

Looking forward to it...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

WOAH!!! Now what? Indeed extremely interesting....Sooo Renie has no heart? Hmmm hehe wasn't aware of that, I always thought she has TOO MUCH of a heart...

Aaaanyway..brilliant writing I second every applause McBadgy gives!

Really very interesting I must say....hmmmm

*Sigh*

Takes a deep breath. (and relishing the fact that after more than a year, I can now do so!)

*Sigh*

Now that's the sort of writing that is well worth the waiting! I have enjoyed rejoining the A side of the A&A (and now another A) team. Excellent description of the poppy-induced train of thoughts that are still very characteristic of this Dunmer princess. Even with the drugs, I can still see her strong personality as clear as day.

And the fact that she still has her priorities straight made me smile!

From the shadows I come with my take on this whole Bloody Moon business.

First, let's get the self-indulgence out of the way. I like Seth, you like him too. I must have done something right when I wrote about this creepy, cranky Dunmer. Silent, yet apparently strong personality, as you've masterfully portrayed here. I never told you how to write him, I never said this was okay but that wasn't.

No, you took the time to read my story; for which I am eternally flattered, then asked to use him, and I said "Go nuts." Which you did, and it was awesome. This goes for both authors. If I could only come up with half the descriptions that you do.

Especially combat, I still suck in that regard. But let's move on.

Athynae, Athynae, Nay-nay. What can I say? I'm questioning reality myself here now. I've never been in an opioid-induced stupor, such as Morphine drip and all that, and frankly I hope I never have too. That being said, I think I already can imagine the state it would put me in from this dreamscape.

Now I'm wondering myself if Seth really was there, or if it was just the proverbial 'voice in your head' you get from knowing someone so well over so many years. Those of us who still talk to our passed-away loved ones likely know what I'm talking about.

Then we have Hircine and his psychological warfare. Which; again, could just be a manifestation of her doubts. A subconscious soul-searching. An odyssey through the spirit, that reveals what we all know on some level: You possess the wisdom necessary to meet life's challenges. But I'm getting off-topic, nicely done with a dark, demonic figure who is living up to his own image evidently.

I would say, on the whole, this Preparation feels good.

I like how it's the story of the next generation finding themselves, without it having a "Teen Titans" feel to it. We are seeing these kids grow up; quite literally, before us.

This is also hella ironic given that I'm the youngest in this quartet of character authors, if the internet speaks the truth.

Yes Blackie you may be the youngest...but still Sethyas made such an impression on us all, you made him just...irresistible to interpret! (which I hope that I also made to your satisfaction)

Btw...I am the oldest of us four

First things first- (enjoy it while you can because the following post will be a bit of a "time warp").

Athynae's responses to the wonderful commments:

@McB- Many thanks as always to you my friend. I do hope we continue to keep you entertained as well as keeping you always guessing what comes next...and yes, 24 hours of sleep would be a wonderful experience.

@Minque- The "heartless" comment came from her tormentor and he is just trying to get under her skin even more than he already has...Renie is all heart and then some...and we all MISS HER TERRIBLY....so so happy to see you here, thank you so much for your presence always...

(Athynae) Mother this is getting quite frightening and I am in a place I have never been before.

@Haute- First I am elated that you are back to being able to take that deep breath as well. I am also quite happy that you are reading and enjoying the Triple A's...and yes, her priorities are in order, well the top of the list at least is always "TEA"... it tames the beast she wakes with every morning- just ask anyone who knows her.

@Black Hand- First of all, thank you for not only allowing us to 'use' Seth but also trusting us enough to just step back and watch. We still can't just write it and not let you have a go first, it's just the way we are, but also we do want to make certain that we do not accidentally show a character trait that you feel is against his character.

Athynae sees Seth far differently than everyone else because not only has he been a constant in her life since she was born but he has shared with her aspects of himself that he has shared with no one else simply because adults that connect with a child, regardless of who they are, will do this without realizing it. Plus Seth offered her the opportunity to show herself without reservation, he made no judgements of who she was, nor did he reprimand her for perceived wrongs like everyone else did-because he understood why she did what she did even when she didn't.

Enough of all that....bottom line is this, THANK YOU!!! My goal and aim with Seth is to show the readers how Thyna sees him and who he is to her, the relationship that he has with Athlain is the 'opposite' and because of that tends to add a bit of 'darkness' to the character and allows the readers to see him the way everyone else does...lalalalala

Thank you again. I do hope that I never take anything away from Seth or from you as his true writer. Yes I read the stories, actually a multitude of times, because I wanted to truly understand him and then see him the way Thyna would. You are a tremendous writer and I am a honored that you have not only shared your words with me but your character as well.

As far as you being the 'baby' in this circle I believe that is correct because somewhere in the catacombs of my dark and sometimes cobweb filled mind I recall a passing thought that you were born the year Trey and I met... ba dump bump! That makes me feel old.

This next post begins as the just-concluded sparring match was getting under way. The main reason for that, as will be seen, is to allow me to shamelessy steal ah... happily borrow... the words of a guest-writer. He wrote the POV piece just because he wanted to "see" things from a different perspective, never realizing that I would jump upon his words like a starving dachshund on a T-bone steak. (Note to those who are not aware- dachshunds are *always* starving, at least in their own minds). Anyway, my thanks to Black Hand, for the words, for allowing us to "borrow" his character, and etc. And now- back to Thirsk....

---------------------------------------------------------------

“I've taught you all I can teach. The rest is to discover your own potential. Even swordplay is an art, and you must discover your own technique like a painter with a brush."

”But what about you? Will you learn more? Will you learn from other teachers?”

"Of course, child. Once you know a craft, there is little distinction between student and teacher. You will teach your own little ones someday; perhaps even teach a friend."

So long ago, the Dunmer thought. He scooped another handful of snow into his mouth so that his breath would not show in the frigid air.

His small shelter of pine branches was similarly covered in snow, and he had been making use of small heated stones beneath his furs to keep warm, along with his ring enchanted to help resist frost. It did not mean he was comfortable.

He'd been keeping watch over Thirsk for days. Watching and waiting. There was something different about today though. Today the children played with each other once more, and as usual it wasn't nice.

Both Trey; and to a lesser extent, he- when he was around- let them go at it to a certain limit. Whether or not Trey thought it was merely toughening up his son or some for some other reason, he never said.

As far as the Dunmer was concerned, the boy could teach her self-control. She was fire to his ice. Athlain held back too much, and she was far too unrestrained. Perhaps they could balance each other out. At least that was the thinking when it all began.

And now here they met in a 'training' joust. The Dunmer let a smile escape, and said a quiet prayer for Athlain. Athynae certainly didn't need the help. Then again, he'd seen the incredible progress the boy had made since this sojourn began. So, no- he would pray for both.

He watched as the two stared each other down for a moment, almost as if they were taunting each other. No, Athynae was the one doing the taunting; Athlain’s eyes fell to the ground as he gently rocked his mace. He was...sensing.

The weight of the mace.

The grass still wet from snowfall.

Position of the sun, as it reflects off the snow. Avoid this angle.

Breathe slowly but strongly beforehand to increase your stamina.

He scarcely believed that the boy was somehow going through all this in a single breath. Without missing a beat, Athlain returned to the present moment, and let the analysis of the battlefield guide his next move. Mace and blade met in a resounding clang. The sparring had begun.

Once rough, like their handwriting, it was now an elegant script as the two masterfully dashed across their battlefield. He could recognize the moves he had taught to Athynae, with several modifications she added herself, like flourishing to a plain letter. She made it her own and she made it beautiful.

He could also tell that she was in control in every phase of the game. She was baiting him, like a child teases a dog almost. Athlain had taken life, but he had not awakened as a warrior yet, not truly. When he could swing his arm, separate from his heart, that would be his moment and she would be holding a bucket of water- against some very deadly teeth.

And then, after the boy had found himself on the ground again, it changed. He moved in a way the Dunmer had not seen before- not from Athlain. And finally, the swing came. She was willing to risk everything and took the nasty brunt of the mace to the shoulder. Even from this distance, he could hear the impact.

”What now?” the Dunmer whispered to the cold air and to the battered warrior standing over the fallen girl. “Will you attempt to finish it, or will you have the wisdom to see that it is already over, and that a new chapter has begun?”

As Athlain relented and dropped the mace, the watcher knew her plan had worked, and all was calm.

Not Ice in that moment, but Water. Moreover, almost as stubborn as Athynae. Not surprising, given who his parents were. And as she, his Princess, struggled to her feet and brought her friend to the ground in a one-armed tackle, he remembered with a faint smile another day long ago. “I did not say I gave up.”

Satisfied at the scene, he calmed himself and released the tension off the bowstring. The only thing with Ice, he had feared, was that it cracked unpredictably.

Perhaps he too needed to learn to separate his arm from his heart more fully.



The early sun woke me and I stretched to ease the stiffness from the sparring- and from sleeping in a chair. As I moved, something bounced against my chest. I looked down and found myself staring at an arrow, an arrow with a black shaft and an ebony head. A chain entwined the arrow and was draped around my neck. And at the end of the chain was a pendant that looked quite familiar. I had seen Athynae wearing its twin for many years. It was a small amulet in the shape of a hand. The only difference was that hers was formed of white gold- and the one I now wore was as dark as the arrowhead that held my gaze.

“That doesn’t look very safe.”

Ahnya’s amused observation shook me out of my reverie and I blinked, turning my head to look at her. She stood beside the window seat, and not only had she folded her blanket neatly, but she also looked as if she had just risen from a feather bed. Another mystery of women that I would never solve- how they could go through fire, flood, or sleepless night and still look rested, pressed, and cleaned. Some magic that was never taught to men, I suppose. But I ignored all that and responded to her remark.

“No, ‘safe’ is the last word I would use.”

I carefully removed the arrow and set it aside before standing. Trying to appear casual, I asked, “Did you notice anything… ah… unusual last night?”

“You mean besides the fact that Athynae,” she paused and glanced at the bed, “snores louder than you do?”

She started to smile at her own daring, but then frowned as she looked back at her mentor.

“Where did that come from?”

She started to reach a hand toward the parchment wrapped around Dreamer’s hilt, tied in place with a black ribbon. I spoke a single word, a name, and it stopped her faster than a paralysis spell.

“Seth.”

Ahnya’s good cheer disappeared like the sun going behind a cloud. Her head turned as she tried to look everywhere at once, seeking a figure lurking in some corner of the quiet room. I knew how she felt. I had known as soon as I saw the ebony arrowhead aimed at my throat… along with the “gift” that held it in place. A present- and a promise. The black ribbon on the note was just an additional flourish.

Recalling Thyna’s reaction to the last missive from “Uncle Seth,” I waved Ahnya out the door and nearly trod on her heels following her.

“I would suggest that you bring Athynae her tea as usual, and that you then wait, perhaps in the kitchen.” (Or in another province, I thought, but did not say.) “As for me, I will remain here.”

For once, Ahnya followed my instructions. Perhaps I was getting better at the whole “Chieftain of Thirsk” business. More likely, she knew Athynae and her decision was motivated by self-preservation rather than obedience.

A phrase I had sometimes heard crept into my mind, “Shadow hide me.” Unfortunately, this shadow had found me. And the Flame that cast that shadow was about to awaken to an unhappy dawn.

Still, I had a few minutes before the tea arrived. Perhaps I could use that time to my advantage. By… putting on all of my armor, including extra padding? Or building a pillow fort and hiding in it? Or… just running? Except that the last I could never do again- I had promised. Thyna did not know about that promise, but I did. So instead, I sat down and took her uninjured hand in mine and waited.

Though my body was still, my mind was racing as I tried to recall everything I actually knew about Sethyas Velas. Rumor and speculation followed him like a midnight cloak, but what had I seen myself- what was fact, rather than fable? He was a Redoran Councilor, the Grandmaster of the Morag Tong (although said to have retired). And how it was possible he could be simultaneously the former head of the noble guild of assassins and still alive was a question for another day. Besides, those were simply titles- not the mer who held them.

He was one of Father’s few friends, along with Serene and Athyn Sarethi. His visits to our home were rare, but Father- and Mother- always welcomed him, and their pleasure at his company was genuine. He had given me the blade I still carried in a hidden sheath between my shoulders. He had never actually offered or even implied violence toward me, seeming more amused at my discomfort than ominous. And even if I discounted Athynae’s feelings for her mentor, I could not so easily ignore the attitudes of everyone else I trusted and respected. Yes, he was “dangerous,” but we lived in a dangerous place and dangerous times. Who would I rather have at my back in the wilds of Vvardenfell- or Solstheim? A schoolmaster or a premier assassin?

As I considered these ideas, I reached an idle fingertip to rub the small black hand token suspended from its chain around my neck. There was a slight imperfection- no engraving- along each of the digits. Words in miniscule Aldmeris script:

From my hand to yours

The irony inherent in this: A style of alphabet in Calligraphy is called a "Hand".

Well done, Ser Trey...well done.

Oiiiaa! This is great!!!


hehe..is that so? Hilarious...but please DON'T tell her! She'll deny it I promise

So Sethyas you certainly made an impact to all of us... also to our charachters. Now why is that? IMO is must have something to do with the complexity of your personality.

It will be very interesting when Thyna awakes..ohh aye, can't wait to see that.

S.G.M

Ooooh, Now I must read Blackie's fiction! I've been meaning to ever since encountering this most interesting character in minque's story. Besides, I'm partial to men/mer named/nicknamed "Seth" . . .

Love the humor Athlain carries throughout the narrative. It makes me smile, even in the direst of times. His observations are always spot on.

"From my hand to yours." Symbolic, in so many ways! Loved the affirmation of Athalin's personal growth.

Yes, because I had absolutely no problem with working out the way two of you work together...Urgh... ... ...

Whoever did whatever in that first bit with Seth...That was bloody amazing...I absolutely loved that...

That Seth was now giving Athlain some measure of respect while still holding on to the private amusement at his discomfort around the assassin was cool...

As for the 'A'-Team...(See what I did there? )...Love the way Ahnya's growing...



...So true...

Sorry, out of practice with this commenting thing... ...

Absolutely loved that whole piece.

As always, I'm completely in awe of all parties' writing around here...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

@Black Hand- Thanks for allowing us to “borrow” Seth- and even to “revise and extend” him upon occasion. And also for the sketch…. The exact nature of the “token,” as well as the inscription, came late in the process. I had known as far back as putting the Interlude together that Seth would leave (insert McGuffin here) for Athlain and that it would be related to the one Athynae won for herself all those years ago. Then- when I realized the only form the amulet could take, there followed the double- (or possibly triple) pun… a black hand left by the Black Hand. And of course “minuscule” (which I find I misspelled) was a form of writing from the 7th C.

@Serene- First… so glad you are writing once again. It makes this story all the more meaningful to me. And Seth’s complexity (despite what his too-modest author might say) has also been a wonderful gift for us as we weave him in and out of our words and plots.

@haute- You will be glad of the time catching up on Seth’s journals- especially because his own view of himself is so different. And being raised with sisters- not to mention being “best friends” with Athynae- meant Athlain developed gallows humor as a survival skill early in life. I am glad that part of his personality strikes the right note with you- he is more like his father than he knows. And we will see Athlain’s interpretation of that inscription in his next entry…

@McB- I considered providing a brief overview of how that post came about- but I don’t really think anyone much wants to see how the sausage is made and so will refrain. In simplest terms, we always try to give a preview to anyone whose character we “borrow.” Which allows that writer a chance to go “OHHH! What if…?” And after several rounds of that, the balding spell starts to crackle and we all get our heads back down and hammer out a post… The specifics of the Seth POV are- they are Black Hand’s words, with slight dachshund editorializing (because I can’t help myself). And that gave me (and Athlain) a chance to explore why Seth makes him so nervous and to indicate that the assassin has actually never been anything except helpful (occasionally) or aloof (most of the time). “The A-Team” indeed. I think we can nominate Athynae for the “B.A.” role (given wht the initials stand for. Perhaps if they had a “Hannibal” they would manage things a bit better. Hmmm- I can rather see Liam Neeson as Korst Wind-Eye….

Now we will come back to Part 2 of Athynae's narrative of the events on the day following the "Blunder on the Tundra." She will discover that sometimes dreams are much more than dreams- and that may not be a good thing....

----------------------------------------------

I opened my eyes to a blurry, mottled picture awash with sunlight.

“Please pull the drape; the sun is too bright.”

And I watched as a form that I recognized released the drape from its tether and let it fall to cover the window. Athlain.

I tried to raise myself from the pillow only to be reminded that my right side was not connected to the rest of my body the way it was supposed to be. Athlain was at the bedside in a blink.

“May I help you sit up?”

“You better, because I need my tea. Otherwise I may have to skewer you with this wonderful katana you stole from me.”

“Ah, that familiar biting humor means you aren’t quite dead yet.”

“Would take more than that giant meat tenderizer to do me in, you should know that by now.”

“It did the job I requested of it though; it found your shoulder quite nicely I’d say.” And he propped me up with pillows and reached to the tray for a cup already full of the liquid that I used to kill the beast that I woke with every morning.

My left hand was shaking a tad as I tried to take the cup and I offered no argument when Athlain put it to my lips for a sip.

“My head is still spinning from the poppy.”

“If that is what is making you so agreeable I may have to insist on your having it more often.”

And there it was, a smile that I had not seen since before he left Vvardenfell, a genuine smile that went all the way through his eyes and straight to his heart.

“I miss that.”

“Pardon?”

“Being able to see all the way to your soul.”

There was silence in response, a blank expression. The tea was doing its job and I was gaining some mental clarity as I watched his eyes, scanning memories, some good, some not. Which ones were the good ones? Then the shadow passed over his features, the one I had spent my entire life trying to understand, the one that crossed Mother’s face and Uncle Trey’s, the one that was always in Uncle Seth’s eyes, well, almost always. Father had the same shadow but it only made short appearances and not often. I was beginning to understand.

My gaze drifted and my eyes came to rest on an arrow, black as night and as evil-looking as the bow that it was designed for.

“The arrow? Athlain? Where did it come from? Were you injured?” The foreboding from when Athlain had sent me sprawling in our match came back full force. “Where did it come from?!” I demanded again.

“I was not hurt. And as to the arrow, it was left along with a… ah- gift. I did not see anyone.”

“A gift?” I was confused; I would have liked to be able to blame it on the poppy, but it had nothing to do with hallucinations.

Athlain pulled an amulet from under his tunic, a hand, like the one that I had taken from Uncle Seth during a challenge when I was quite small. Only, although Athlain’s was a perfect replica of mine, it was completely opposite. The one I kept with me always was white gold and a left hand; the one he now wore was ebony, glistening like a black diamond, and was a right hand.
My heart stopped beating as I felt a wave of emptiness wash through me, almost more than l could contain.

“He was here? He did not speak to you?” Then I remembered the dream; how much of that was not a drug-induced hallucination?

“He did not. But he left a note for you.” And he lifted my katana by the baldric, hanging on the bedpost by my head. “He must have taken her from you when he was here, because you were restless and Ahnya placed her in your hand, hoping it would help you sleep.”

The black ribbon around her hilt, the black arrow beside the chair, the amulet Athlain now wore, an amulet that, in Uncle Seth’s mind, bound the two of us together even more than we already were.

“…you do not go alone; you have a warrior at your side.”

His words repeated in my head, something he said or something I conjured, I do not know…and never will.

Athlain started to untie the ribbon and I shook my head and reached for Dreamer with my left hand. He placed the katana across my body so the hilt was at my hand. I wrapped my fingers around the familiar grip, note and all, and squeezed with all the strength I had. I wasn’t ready to read his words, see the familiar script that had, over the years, consoled me, scolded me, taught me, and at times teased me. I needed him right now like I needed air and I knew he was near, but for some reason he did not want to be ‘present’, except of course slipping in while I was drugged, leaving missives and gifts just so I would know he was close. That almost made it worse than thinking he was hundreds of miles away. Why was he watching me from a distance? What was the purpose?

I pulled the ribbon and released the missive and it fell folded to the bed. Athlain reached as if to pick it up and I stopped his hand. I covered it with my own, just as it was and held it, just feeling the familiar parchment that he always used, the texture like the brush of his hand. If I closed my eyes he would be here. NO! He wouldn’t; he was slipping around in shadows, being evasive and secretive- his mark, the skill that he had mastered like no other. He could walk beside you and you would never even know he was there.

I opened the note with the fumbling fingers of one hand.

“You must clear whatever is clouding your thoughts; it is affecting your concentration. You have never allowed yourself to be distracted from the job at hand and now you have set yourself up to face a challenge that most would flee. You cannot afford to let your emotions obscure your vision. Princess, the past months have brought you more understanding than the previous years combined, but you must sort it all and quickly or put it away.

The boy you taught to fight is no more; he has become all that you pushed him toward, even as you cried yourself to sleep because he could not or would not raise his sword against you. He has proven his skill not only to these people, or to you, but he has finally proven to himself that he can cast his own shadow and protect all who stand in it.

The boy is right. You need to work on defense. We have discussed that habit of dropping your left elbow too soon. I am glad to see that Dreamer has finally reached her potential.

And I am glad to see that the boy has proved that he is able to guard you as you have guarded him. If you allow it, your trust will be rewarded. And speaking of rewards, please be sure young Athlain understands the significance of the token I left him. He has never given up either.

There was no signature; the script itself, along with the ribbon and the parchment, were all that were needed to tell who had penned the note. I folded it shut once more and closed my eyes as the questions flooded my mind.

Which token Uncle Seth? The arrow you had aimed at his heart when we were sparring, or the amulet that you so graciously gifted him with?

When I looked up again, Athlain was watching me from the foot of the bed with his arms braced on the footboard. His knuckles were as white as the snow that falls far too often here and I feared for the wood that his hands were curled round. His face was as blank as I was schooling mine to be. I did not want him to see the uncertainty I felt, or the anger, or the pain both physical and something else far deeper that I had been harboring since the first time Uncle Seth had made his presence known without being present.

“Do you need an explanation regarding the gifts?” I asked, not knowing how I would answer if he did.

“All I know Thyna, is you have worn your amulet since we were children and that Seth gave it to you. As for the other, I don’t know that I would consider it a gift; more a warning, a promise that if I don’t …”

I cut him off. “First of all, Seth did not ‘give’ me the amulet; I took it, in a challenge. He assumed I had given up and proceeded to explain to me why I had lost, but I never said I was done, and so as he explained my mistakes I showed him his and snatched the amulet and completed the challenge. I never gave up. And neither have you, ever, even when I was torturing you like a practice dummy.” The guilt I felt could not be hidden.

“As far as the other, it is the arrow he held, aimed and ready as he watched our match. After you defeated me, I felt the danger but I did not know why; that is why I tackled you instead of just offering my congratulations on the win.”

Athlain looked like a kite that found itself without wind to carry it.

“He gave you the arrow because you stayed your hand; he gave you the arrow because you earned his trust. And his respect.”

Athlain’s grip on the footboard relaxed just a bit, but his face was still clouded. “I will never understand who he is; I will never understand why he does what he does, slinking around and leaving dark gifts and notes instead of just being normal and making his presence known. The one aspect of him that I do understand is why he taught you all that he has, why your skill was the most important gift he could offer. He has taught you not only how to fight, but how to think, how to move, how to feel what you can’t see. And because he taught you all of those skills, I have had the great privilege of learning them from you.”

He really believed that he had learned something from me; what a fool. All I did was show off and beat him; he had to escape my torturous training just to be able to learn. But he had. Learned I mean. He was an officer of the Legion, he was the Chieftain of Thirsk, he had earned it all, on his own. By his own virtue, he was all that his father was and is, but he also was no longer just his father’s son. He was Athlain, and future history lessons would tell his story, how he had done more than his part to right wrongs.

I had to sort and think and pack away thoughts and feelings; I had to heal not only my shattered shoulder but my disorganized mind. “I know I taught you one thing for sure; I taught you stamina. I taught you how to get the scrib jelly beat out of you and keep going. I really would like to be alone now if you don’t mind. I am very tired.”

“I’ll send Svenja to check on you. Do you want something to eat?”

“No, and I don’t need Svenja either.” I didn’t intend it to sound so ferocious, but obviously it did because Athlain flinched.

“Very well. I will leave you to rest.” He turned toward the door and spoke. “Whatever I have done to cause you to be angry with me, I am sorry.” And he was out the door before I could respond.

This post has been edited by treydog: Jul 17 2013, 02:14 AM

Fair dues, always amazing...

Even after the poppy she's still proper spiky in a morning isn't she?... ...



Loved that so much...Brilliant stuff...

Trying to work out what Seth wanted while un-drugged would be enough of a challenge, I think...So with the poppy...Ayyyy...No chance... ...

Truly amazing writing...Always a pleasure...

Looking forward to more...As ever... ...

Nice one...

*Applauds heartily*

This post has been edited by McBadgere: Jun 30 2013, 02:49 PM

Hey now! It wasn't aimed at his heart...much.

Actually as Trey pointed out, had he released the arrow, it most likely would have gone just past his ear to make that *snap* to pull him back to reality. I like that version better, and can only imagine the humorous reaction we would have gotten from Athlain.

Athlain looks at black-as-night arrow in tree behind him. "Brynjolfyr.....Forge me a new pair of greaves..."