Journey of Truth, The Journal of Tandilwen, thread 1 Options

[Lady Syl]

Prologue
Anvil
25 Sun's Dawn 3E 433

As my father lay dying, I closed my eyes and got up from the chair beside his bed, barely able to comprehend what he had just revealed to me. When he took his last breath, I stood across the chamber unable to look at him, while my aunt, Carahil, stood beside the bed holding his hand. I knew the moment his life force left his body—I felt it, almost like a heavy sigh breathed in a moment of great relief. And then I heard my aunt say, in a solemn voice, “It is done. He is beyond the reach of Nirn, in the Realm of Spirits.”

Carahil was a strong and serious person. I had always known that, ever since I was a child. She tried never to show too much emotion in any situation. That was the high elf way, so my father had always told me, and he expected me to be the same, even though my mother had been a wood elf. And I was good at it. I made my father proud. But never had I seen one so good at hiding her true emotions as my aunt Carahil. Rarely did her composure ever falter. The day my father died, however, I could hear it in her voice—a slight tremble which betrayed the pain of loss she felt for the brother with whom she had shared a womb.

Holding back tears, Carahil turned to face me, and finally I looked at my father—now just a corpse. The sight caused me to shudder, and I had to close my eyes again as a single tear slipped down my cheek. He was a man I barely even knew, and yet I had loved him like any girl loves her father. But more than that, the tear was for the truth that he had just told me—a confession on his death bed which would forever alter the course of my life. Nothing could ever be the same after what he told me that day. Nor could I love him quite the same as I had loved him before; he had betrayed my trust.

“Where are you going?” Carahil asked in alarm when I opened the door.

Stopping to look at her from the corner of my eyes, I answered with quiet determination, “To the Imperial City. Only the gods know where I’ll end up from there.”

And then I left, never to return.

This post has been edited by Lady Syl: May 12 2011, 10:41 PM

[Lady Syl]

SubRosa:Thanks! Tandilwen likes to enjoy things while they last, so she definitely takes advantage of her affair with him for a time... Somehow, I don't think Aunt Carahil would approve, though. Of course, you never know...

Thanks also for pointing out that I was telling rather than showing--I made sure to keep that in mind while writing the next scene, as I caught myself doing it again!

Rihanae: Oh my, well thank you! Now that you mention it, Clesa is similar to Lissa, isn't she? Do you think they could be cousins or something?

mALX:At first, I wasn't sure where they were going to meet, but then i remembered that cave and it just seemed perfect--not to mention, I can't help finding the idea of a partially-flooded cave as a meeting place for lovers as romantic!



Chapter 1.2--Summer of Love

Maximus Umbranox was tall and handsome, with an athletic build and incredible blue eyes, the color of Anvil bay at the height of the afternoon. Everyone was in love with him, or so it seemed. But no one loved him more than his noble mother. Countess Umbranox doted on all of her children, but especially her eldest child and son, Maximus.

On that perfect spring day, Maximus was hurriedly trying to finish up the essay that his tutor had assigned him a week earlier. He had neglected to write his essay until the very day that it was due, and he knew that if it was not in on time, his tutor would go to his mother about it—and that was the last thing he wanted. So, he hastily scrawled a half-legible essay on the Battle of Ionith, hoping that his stern Imperial tutor would go easy on him.

After writing the concluding paragraph to his essay, Maximus threw down his quill, grabbed his riding hat and cape, and ran down to his tutor’s office to deliver the essay. The aged Altmer looked up from his massive writing desk, squinting harsh grey eyes at the young man, and saying, “You are late by exactly one minute. I expected your essay to be turned in promptly at three on the hour—no more, no less. That will be five points penalty, Maximus.”

Maximus groaned, rolling his eyes, and saying, “Come on, what difference does one minute make? None at all! How can you penalize me for being one minute late?”

“Your mother—the Countess of Anvil, need I remind you, young man—has charged me with your education. Part of a good, noble education is learning how to be on time.”

“By the Nine, you are an impossible old shrew!”

“Are you asking for another five points of penalty, young master?”

“Oh, you have got to be joking! You’re mad!”

“Very well, detract five more points, and let us see how you did on the actual assignment.”

Maximus sighed, and mumbled, “Oh, I don’t have time for this! You know what, I’m leaving. I have an appointment, and since you are so determined that I should never be late for anything, surely you will understand.”

“Fine, then you are dismissed.”

“Good riddance,” Maximus said to himself, throwing on his cape and walking hastily down the corridor. But before he was able to get very far, he heard a familiar voice behind him, saying, “Maximus? Where are you going?”

The young viscount stopped in his tracks and let out another sigh, asking himself why it seemed that everyone was trying to hold him up that day? Turning around to face his mother, he forced a smile, and said, “Mother. I am going out for a ride in the countryside….”

“Without a bodyguard?” asked the Countess, stopping before him and holding his face. “Maximus, you know how I worry about you. And for good reason.”

“Yes, Mother, I know…but I’ll be fine. I won’t go far, I promise. I just need some peace and solitude outside these constraining walls….”

The Countess sighed, lowering her face, tears stinging at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Maximus. I know I’ve been hard on you lately, but…ever since your father… Well, I want to see you succeed where others have failed. I only want the very best for you.”

“And I intend to make you proud, Mother,” he replied, struggling not to drop his plans just to ease his beloved mother’s worries. “But I can’t stay cooped up inside the castle for the rest of my life. I feel like I can barely breathe.”

Countess Umbranox lowered her head again, and said, “Then go… I cannot force you to stay. But...be careful, my son. Were anything to happen to you, Maximus, I couldn’t bear it!”

“Do not worry, Mother,” he said, gently touching her cheek. “The gods will look after me.”

Maximus missed his father, and he knew that his mother had been deeply pained by his unexplained disappearance. He was sure that his restless and irresponsible father had run off with a loose woman or something. This is part of what made him so soft to his mother, and prone to doing whatever she asked of him. But he was still a young man, after all—a young man with an infatuation for a beautiful, feisty young elf. And now he was sure he would be late for their tryst beneath the castle….

******

Countess Umbranox nodded, forcing a smile, and then watched her son go. When he was no longer in sight, she walked to her quarters and sat at the large oak desk that had once been her husband’s. Looking up at his portrait, which hung over the mantle of the fireplace, she let out a sigh, and said, “Oh, Corvus… Has it really been six long years since you left me here, all alone, to raise four children and look after the county? Were all those beautiful years we had together only a lie?”

She leaned her elbow upon the desk and rested her head in her hand, closing her eyes to flush away her tears. Corvus Umbranox had disappeared without a trace, leaving everyone in Anvil to wonder what had happened to their Count….


This post has been edited by Lady Syl: May 23 2011, 02:00 AM