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]

Captain Hammer:I am glad to have you with us on Tandilwen's adventures. Thank you for your kind words!

mALX:Laughter is the best medicine! And I am loving the new possibilities with playing on pc rather than the 360. I prefer the controls for 360, but the pc is so much better.

Rihanae:Carahil has always been one of my favorite NPCs, and she just seemed so fitting as an aunt-figure. And I've always wanted a sister (I only have one brother), like Hasathil and Tandilwen. I've seen many sisters who seem nothing alike, yet have a beautiful relationship, and I love to capture that sort of relationship with my writing. <3



Chapter 2.2--Family Matters

When the tall, fair-haired, tan-skinned Altmer stepped onto the docks in Anvil harbor, he looked out at the crowd of people who were there to greet family and friends arriving with the same ship that he had been on. Soruman sighed heavily; he was glad to be home, yet already eager to leave again. Turning back toward the ship, he waited for his companion, who was coming down the ramp and admiring the city.

“Well, this is Anvil, the gleaming city by the sea,” said Soruman, with a hint of spite in his deep voice. “A fine place to return to, but not for a long stay. At least, that is always how I have felt about it. Perhaps you will find it more to your liking than I have through the years?”

“’Tis a beautiful city, sir,” replied the young Altmer rogue, adjusting his canvas sack of belongings that was slung over his shoulder. “I think I should like it here very much.”

Soruman chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder, saying, “I am hoping so, Eldaril. I am very much hoping so.”

The two Altmeri began walking and it was then that Carahil spotted her brother and waved, calling, “Soruman! Over here!”

Soruman smiled when he saw his sister, and he ran to embrace her, lifting her up and twirling her in the air. “Dearest sister! It is so good to see you again!” He set her back down, and kissed her on the cheek, saying, “Where are my daughters? Have they not come to greet me as well?”

“They were here only a moment ago,” said Carahil, looking around in confusion. “They must have wondered off….”

Just then, she noticed the handsome young Altmer rogue who followed her brother, and Soruman turned to bring the young man forward to introduce them. “Carahil, this is Eldaril. Eldaril--my dearest little sister, Carahil.”

Carahil chuckled and extended her hand, saying, “Don’t let my brother fool you, Eldaril. We are twins, and I was born exactly three and a half minutes before him. It is nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” said Eldaril with a nod, shaking her hand.

“Ah, there they are!” Soruman suddenly said, waving as Tandilwen and Hasathil looked up to see him. Their serious demeanor changed to child-like glee, and the two of them ran to embrace their father. “My beautiful girls,” he said, kissing their cheeks and squeezing them both tightly. “But where is my eldest daughter? Did not Ohtesse come to greet me, as well?”

“Ohtesse left a few months ago, Father,” answered Tandilwen. “She is studying restorative magic at the Arcane University, and afterward she plans to devote herself in service to Mara.”

“Is she now?” he asked, somewhat surprised. “When she mentioned that last time we spoke, I didn’t really believe it would come to pass…. Well…then I guess it will just be us. I’ve got some surprises for all of you! But first—Tandilwen…Hasathil—I want you to meet Eldaril. He will be staying with us for a time.”

“Good to meet you,” said Tandilwen, shaking his hand. “I’m Tandilwen. And this is Hasathil, my younger sister.”

“It is good to meet you both,” said Eldaril, looking at both of them closely. But he seemed to be studying Tandilwen the most.

“Well now,” said Soruman, “why don’t we all go back to the house? No sense in standing around here, getting burned by the sun, now is there?”

******

After eating with the family, Tandilwen went out onto the veranda and gazed up at the night sky. The twin moons were alight—Masser was waxing and Secunda was full. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold.

Leaning on the balustrade, Tandilwen thought about Maximus and wondered if he was also thinking of her. Don’t be silly, Tandilwen, she told herself. You’re in way deeper than you were supposed to be… She let out a sigh and looked up at the castle, lit up beautifully in the night. “Oh, Maximus, what are we doing to ourselves?”

“What was that?” someone asked from behind her. She spun around to see Eldaril coming toward her, watching her curiously.

“Oh… It was nothing,” she replied with some embarrassment. “I was only thinking out loud.”

“And here I thought I was the only one who did that sometimes,” he responded in somewhat of a tease. Then he cleared his throat and there was an awkward silence. When they both tried to speak at the same time, they stopped again, and then he said, “No, you go ahead…”

She smiled clumsily, and said, “I was going to ask from where do you hail?”

“Oh,” he replied, growing somewhat hesitant. “Well, I was born and raised on Summerset Isle—how original, right? My parents were both mages, but magic has never been of much interest to me, I suppose you could say….”

“Where were you when you met my father?”

“Hammerfell,” he replied simply.

“And what made you decide to come here, to Anvil?”

He cleared his throat again, seemingly growing even more uncomfortable with her line of questioning. “I…ah…wanted a change of scenery, I guess. And your father…well, ah…nevermind. Actually, I think I may retire for the night—it was a long voyage, and I’m really quite exhausted. Perhaps we can talk some more in the morning?”

“Oh, um…okay,” Tandilwen replied, watching him walk back into the house. She suspected Eldaril was hiding something from her, but what could it possibly be…?

******

Going back inside, Tandilwen found Hasathil sitting by the large bay window in their bedchamber, which faced out toward the rest of the city. She seemed sullen, and Tandilwen wanted to continue their conversation from earlier that day, on the docks.

Sitting down on the sill beside her, Tandilwen reached out to brush her sister’s hair from her face, and asked, “Would you like to talk? You seem troubled.”

Hasathil let out a sigh and turned toward her sister, tears in her hazel eyes. “Oh, I was just thinking about Enilroth, is all…. Now that our father is back, I will not be able to see him as often. Daddy will never approve of me being with him. It’s just not fair. What difference does it make that he is only an apprentice? He cares about me, Tandilwen, and I know he would look out for me.”

“If you married Enilroth, you would have to live at Morvayn’s smithy, Hasathil. Would you really want that?”

“I don’t care, Tandilwen—I would live in a box, if I had to, to be with Enilroth. I love him, and the only thing that matters to me is that he makes me happy-- he makes me feel special.”

“Then maybe you should speak to our father about it,” Tandilwen suggested. “Tell him how you feel, and have Enilroth speak to him, too. If you reasoned with him, he might change his mind….”

“Nothing will change daddy’s mind,” said Hasathil, getting up from the window and wringing her hands desperately. “You know how he is—once his mind is set, nothing can change it. He is as stubborn as an ox and hard as stone. He’ll never accept Enilroth as my husband.”

“Hasathil, you are still so young, anyway. You and Enilroth…you are like children in many ways. Until he gets out on his own and is no longer working as an apprentice, it really would be best for you both to wait, don’t you think? Give him time to learn his trade and prepare for a future with you. There is no reason to rush into these things, Hasathil.”

“You don’t think so?” cried Hasathil. “You haven’t seen daddy speaking with that Heinrich Oaken-Hull, then, have you? You haven’t heard what they’ve said!”

“Hasathil, what are you talking about? What things? What have they said?”

She sat on the side of her bed and slumped her shoulders. Wiping a tear from her eye, she answered, “Last time daddy was home from his travels, Heinrich Oaken-Hull came to speak with him. I overheard part of their conversation, Tandilwen. Heinrich Oaken-Hull was very adamant that he was interested in taking a wife!”

Tandilwen couldn’t help but to laugh. She didn’t mean to, but she found it so amusing and unbelievable. “Oh, Hasathil, what has that to do with any of us? You really are like a child!”

Hasathil’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she was somewhat offended. “It is because Ohtesse was Heinrich Oaken-Hull’s first choice! That is why she left to become a healer for Mara! She couldn’t bear the thought of being married to that man!”

This was news to her—but not all that unbelievable. “Father tried to make Ohtesse marry Heinrich Oaken-Hull? She never told me that….”

“She didn’t tell me, either. But she didn’t have to, because I had already heard their conversation. And ever since Ohtesse left, I have seen Heinrich Oaken-Hull looking at me and always trying to speak with me. Because Ohtesse has sworn off marriage, he knows he can’t have her, and…well, now I fear he is going to ask Daddy if he can marry me, in her stead!”

Tandilwen couldn’t deny that it made a lot of sense, what with all the clues pointing toward such a conclusion. But she still had some doubts, so she said, “Even if Heinrich Oaken-Hull does ask to marry you, all you have to do is say no. I don’t think our father would force you into such a marriage.”

“Don’t you?” Hasathil cried, desperate and shaking. “Daddy would do anything to keep me and Enilroth apart! But I will never stop loving Enilroth, and I will do whatever it takes to be with him!”

Tandilwen placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders, pulling her into an embrace while casting a spell to calm her. Hasathil wept in Tandilwen’s arms until they both needed to get ready for bed. Hasathil fell asleep quickly, but Tandilwen lied in her bed across their small shared room, consumed by a million thoughts running through her head all at once.

Finally, unable to sleep, she quietly got up and went out onto the balcony. The warm and salty sea air was filled with the scent of primroses, nightshade, juniper, and sagebrush. The sound of waves and the noises from the docks rose to her ears—familiar sounds that brought such a calm to her soul. She could stay out there and listen to the sounds of the harbor all night long, if sleep did not take her. She was happy there, but a part of her was growing restless—she never thought she would find herself dreaming of a life outside of Anvil.

Letting out a sigh, she leaned with her arm dangling off the balustrade, and asked, “Why does my heart feel so suddenly torn, Magdalenya?” She listened, waiting for a reply that did not come. Then she rolled her eyes and shook her head, saying, “Why don’t you ever speak when I ask for you?”

“Have patience, Tandilwen,” an ethereal voice finally responded. “All will be revealed in time.”

“Aren’t you supposed to help me?” Tandilwen asked in annoyance. “What is the point in having some dead Ayleid priestess follow me around, if she can’t tell me what I want to know?”

“You know I cannot tell you things that you are not yet ready to hear,” Magdalenya replied in her usual calm and understanding tone.

Tandilwen sighed and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Can’t you tell me something? Like, why do I keep having that strange dream? What is it trying to tell me?”

“All will be revealed in time,” Magdalenya repeated, without a hint of impatience in her otherworldly voice.

She knew there was no point in arguing with the ancient spirit—she would never win. So, instead, she dropped it and fell silent again. She had always had strange dreams growing up, but there was one dream in particular that she’d had so many times, and she knew it had to be important. But Magdalenya was always silent on the subject of that specific dream, though there were times she offered explanations for other dreams….

******

I’ve been having this strange dream ever since I was a child, and I cannot understand it. Always in this dream, I see the same things over and over again. The sequence of events never changes; I know the dream so well that I can play it over and over again in my mind. But what could it mean?

In my dream, I see myself walking through a dark tunnel, almost like a cave of some sort. I take each step carefully, skulking through the shadows and trying to remain undetected. Then I emerge into some vast underground chamber to see dark-robed figures performing a strange ritual in a pool of waist-deep water. When I approach one of the figures, a woman standing on a high platform above all the others, she turns to me with fury in her eyes, and she speaks these strange words to me in another language. I don’t know the words, but I can understand her meaning—I can hear the hatred in her voice, and I know she wants to kill me. And then, always, I wake up and I’m screaming….

I cannot understand what all of this means, and I have implored Magdalenya so many times for an explanation, but she gives me none. I’ve also asked Carahil, as she is wise in these things, but she has never been able to figure it out, though she has come up with many possible explanations. But none of them seem to make sense. Am I going mad? Dibella, I hope not! I cannot suffer such a fate, and yet I fear that I am cursed….