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]

Grits:Yes, Lissa and Tandilwen are having their stories crossed! I'm glad I managed to capture Lissa's personality correctly. And yes, Tandilwen sometimes wonders what the point is in having an Ayleid spirit follow her around just to speak to her in riddles...lol.

Rihanae:Tandilwen's mother is a character who is actually very very important to the story, and we will be seeing more of Tandi's memories of her in the future.

Yay! I'm glad Lissa's scene meets your seal of approval! Great minds think alike!

King Coin:Read at your own pace (and risk...). I'm far from keeping up with anyone else's stories, either, so I definitely understand. It's good to know you are reading and enjoying it though.



Chapter 4.1--Child of Sithis

The air of fear that surrounded Anvil after the murder of Ulfgar Fog-Eye’s daughter was stifling. Neighbours that were once warm and friendly now regarded one another with suspicion and uncertainty. No one felt safe, keeping their doors and windows locked up tight, be it night or day. Only the brave and dutiful dared to venture out without a companion by their side to keep them safe.

Soruman intended to keep his daughters chaperoned at all times, often insisting Eldaril go with them any time either one or both of them left the house. Hasathil was grateful to have a strong man protecting them, but Tandilwen was starting to resent it—especially as, more and more, it became clear that her father was trying to set her up with Eldaril.

It’s not that she didn’t like Eldaril. He seemed nice enough—he opened doors for her, pulled out her chair, and one afternoon, while accompanying her to her aunt’s house on the western hill overlooking the sea, he even picked some beautiful yellow flowers for her—he was a complete gentleman.

There was much to like about Eldaril. The only problem was Tandilwen was not and knew she would never be in love with him. And the more they talked, the more apparent it became that he was more interested in settling down in Anvil, while she was craving freedom and adventure.

One afternoon, they stopped by the rune stones that were less than a ten minute walk from Seaside Manor, and Eldaril gazed up at the massive stones that were set up to form a circle around the largest stone, in the center. The center stone had words engraved on its face in an ancient language, and looking at the words gave one the impression that there was something magical about them. They seemed almost to glow, pink during the day, but red after night fell.

“Amazing, aren’t they?” Eldaril asked, looking up at the ancient monolith in the center. “How ancient civilizations could have assembled such massive stones in this way all over Tamriel is truly a wonder, is it not?”

“The secrets of the ancients are perhaps something we may never understand,” she replied, to which he chuckled. So she asked, “Why do you laugh?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I was just thinking how wonderful it is here—in Anvil, I mean.”

Tandilwen sat down on a stone which was sunken down into the dirt and sighed. “It is wonderful here, I suppose…”

Gazing out at the sea, Eldaril continued, as if he hadn’t even heard her reply. “I’ve been travelling for so many years, seeing the world, but nowhere have I felt more at home than where I am now.”

“Even with the possibility of a murderer running around?”

“Well, I will admit that the current situation is rather quite unnerving,” he responded, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “But I am well aware that this is not something normal for this city. I have been to many places where murders happened nearly every day. But Anvil is such a fine town, and the people here are friendly and inviting. I think I should like to settle down here, perhaps spend the rest of my life in this jewel of a city.”

“But…won’t you miss all your adventures?” Tandilwen inquired.

“Well, I suppose that a part of me will always miss adventuring. But I am eager to find a place for myself, where I can have a home, and a family…” Here he glanced at Tandilwen. She felt her cheeks flush and turned away, hoping he did not see her embarrassment.

There was an awkward silence, until finally Tandilwen rose once again and started walking toward the road to Carahil’s house, saying, “We should continue on. My aunt is expecting me promptly at three.”

Eldaril sighed and hurried to follow her, and she noticed him glancing at her from time to time out of the corner of her eye. But she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, not daring to look at him even for a moment. The last thing she wanted to do was lead him on.

******

Even with a murderer on the loose, Tandilwen and Maximus were still determined to meet with each other in the smuggler’s cave below the castle. It was much harder to do, of course, but they still managed.

As they lay together by the light of a torch, Maximus gently caressing her body, they remained quiet and thoughtful, until she finally spoke. “Do you think the murderer will be caught? I just want everything to go back to normal….”

He stopped caressing her and thought about it for a moment. Then he let out a sigh, and sat up. “I think the murderer will be caught; but nothing will be as it was before, Tandilwen. In less than a fortnight…everything will be different….”

She had forgotten for a moment that the wedding was fast approaching, and her heart sank. In less than two weeks, Maximus would be a married man. He was too good to be unfaithful to his wife, and Tandilwen would never ask him to be. She sat up, tucking her hair behind her pointed ear, and wrapping her arms around her legs. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t let her emotions get the best of her and betray her true feelings. If he knew how she felt about him, he might be tempted not to do his duty. She could never ask that of him, and she didn’t want him to break his mother’s heart.

“Tandilwen,” he said, placing his hand upon her bare shoulder and kissing her there. He moved some loose hair away from her face and took her cheek so he could look into her eyes. “If…if things were different…if my mother was not the Countess of Anvil….”

“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head and turning her face away. “Don’t say it, Maximus. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be….”

He sighed again and she could see he was fighting within himself—just as she was. She watched him for a moment, suddenly realizing that he was also in love with her. Part of her wished she didn’t know.

When he looked at her again, and their eyes met, they were suddenly overcome with emotion and they began kissing each other passionately, letting go once again. It was very likely the last time they could be together.

******

Arriving home one evening, just as the sun was setting over the sea, Carahil let out a sigh and stopped to enjoy the view—one of the only pleasures she allowed herself these days. That was one of the best things she liked about the location of the beautiful manor Volcar had left to her when he went down with his ship. The sounds of the sea brought such peace to Carahil’s soul, and she inhaled the salty fresh air before opening the door to Seaside Manor.

Expecting to be greeted by the usual atmosphere of her comfortable home, Carahil was startled to step in the front door, finding the air rather sinister and unsettling. Something was not right, and it made her hair stand on end as chills rippled through her body. It was as if there was an evil presence lurking there, and she scanned the main room, continuing inside with added caution.

Carahil walked through the house, feeling the presence growing stronger as she neared the stairs. Stopping at the bottom of the staircase, she said a quick prayer and started up the stairs, ready to cast a destructive spell if necessary. On the second floor, she felt the presence at its strongest when standing outside the door to her daughter’s chamber. She feared for what she might find when she opened that door, but that was not going to stop her.

Casting a spell to unlock the door—Arquen almost always kept her door locked, regardless of whether she was inside or not—Carahil reached for the doorknob and twisted it carefully. Looking through the cracked door to see if it was safe, she saw Arquen kneeling on the floor, turned away from the door and surrounded by candles. The corpse of a hen lay nearby, its blood drained completely from its body, and Carahil gasped in horror, bursting into the room and interrupting her daughter’s dark ritual.

“By the Nine Divines, Arquen, what are you doing!?”

Arquen whipped around and rose to her feet, glaring at her with unnatural looking eyes. “What are you doing in my room? You do not belong here! Get out!”

“Arquen, this is unacceptable! I will not tolerate this sort of thing in my house!”

“What’s the matter, Mother? Does it unsettle you? Does it strike fear into your heart?”

“Stop this, Arquen, you’re scaring me! What has gotten into you?”

A dark smile crossed Arquen’s lips, and she looked at her mother, saying, “The Night Mother has called me to be one of her children. I forsake you!”

Carahil stood there in shock as her daughter pushed past her. She was speechless and her heart broke with the realization that Arquen—her own daughter—was the murderer everyone was looking for. “By the gods!” Carahil cried suddenly, turning to chase after her daughter.

Arquen was climbing upon her black mare when Carahil came out of the house, hoping to stop her. “Arquen, wait!”

“Don’t try to stop me, Mother. I would sooner die than spend the rest of my life in a prison cell.”

“Please, tell me you didn’t kill that girl, Arquen,” Carahil said, reaching out toward her daughter with tears in her eyes. “Tell me that it’s not true, and I’ll believe you.”

Arquen looked down at her coldly, and smiled. “But then I would be lying, Mother. It was I who slit that pathetic Nord’s throat. It was I who spilled her thick red blood all over the pavement outside your precious cathedral. And I enjoyed every moment of it. I only wish I could have savored the moment her soul went to Sithis longer.”

Carahil closed her eyes, cut to the core by her daughter’s cold confession. “Then I have no choice, Arquen. I must perform my duty, no matter what the consequences.”

With the speed of a highly skilled mage, Carahil raised her hand and cast a powerful ball of fire at her daughter. But Arquen saw it enough in advance to kick her heels upon the horse’s sides to get her moving, and the spell just missed her. It would have killed her.

This post has been edited by Lady Syl: Jun 21 2011, 05:47 PM