Morrowind Memories, Athlain's Childhood Exploits Options

[treydog]

So- this story kind of came out of nowhere- which is as good a way of describing my mind as any... And it does not fit into Blood on the Moon, but it really wanted to be told. And so, here we go. Before Athlain became "Athlain of the Imperial Legion" (trumpets sound dramatically), he had a childhood on Vvardenfell. I am not sure how many of these stories will appear- more, I hope. Anyway- as ever, thank you for reading...

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Athynae was away, visiting the Ashlanders with her mother. Serene had maintained close ties with the Ahemmusa for all the years following her elevation to head of Great House Redoran; she was determined that the House Dunmer and the Ashland Dunmer would not be divided as they once had. Father had a similar relationship with the Urshilaku, but his was much less formal. Mostly, that was because of his nature, which was to avoid formality whenever possible. But mostly, the difference had to do with Athynae herself, or perhaps better to say, Athynae’s existence. The best way to illustrate it would be by noting that the Ahemmusa name for Serene’s eldest child was “Yan-Ti.” It came from the Ashlander word for “One,” and literally translated as “Small One.” But its true meaning was “First.”

Whenever I felt myself chafing at my father’s disinterest in world affairs, I considered Athynae’s situation and decided I had nothing to complain about. No one expected me to go and visit the Ahemussa on my 11th birthday, or show up at official functions (except just a few, or the ones ‘Thyna dragged me to). My father wore his role as a Redoran Councilor lightly. I do not mean that he did not take the position seriously, just that he refused to take himself seriously, Councilor or not. And he did not allow it to spill over onto the rest of us any more than he could help. Beyond that, he spent the majority of his time writing or working on alchemy. Better still, whenever he could, he brought me with him to the outdoors or the laboratory, gathering ingredients and preparing them. His attitude toward potion-making was… relaxed. If I suggested a formulation, his invariable response was, “Let’s try it and see what happens.”

He was more cautious with the results of those experiments, some of which he would not even tip down the drains, remarking, “Even the cave rats don’t deserve that.”

But, on this particular day, he was away at a Council meeting, and Mother was deep into a new painting. When she was in her studio, she disappeared from this world and entered the one from which her images came. What all of that meant was this was a perfect opportunity for me to go out and harvest some fresh ingredients. Maybe I could go as far as the Bitter Coast. That would be useful when Athynae got back and made an issue of the fact that she was now 11 and I was still “a child” because I would be 9 for another few weeks. She sometimes wielded that difference in age like a club.

I definitely wanted to get past the barren hills that lay west of my house. The plants I sought only grew on the far side of those hills, where there was more rain. That reminded me- I should take along a couple of water bottles. What else? A small knife, to make the harvesting easier and also to cause less damage to the donor plants. That was one of the places where my father was firm.

“Never take all of anything and do as little harm as possible with what you do take. These plants are a gift to everyone who might pass this way. It is wrong to take more than you need.”

I considered bringing along a staff, but shook my head. I didn’t want to look like a pilgrim, and besides, I just could not see it as a “real” weapon. Anyway, I wasn’t hunting mudcrabs or slaughterfish, and a spear or net would be better for those, anyway. And a kagouti or alit would just use the staff for a toothpick after it ate me. Of course, if Athynae were coming along, she would have carried enough weapons to outfit the entire X Legion. Well, maybe not the whole Legion. But at least a century’s worth. Whenever I asked her about all the darts and stars and daggers, she just said, “You never know.” She didn’t explain what I “never knew.” She could be so annoying, sometimes.

But anyway, all that was silly. I was just going for a walk, to gather some supplies. I wasn’t going to poke around any caves or tombs. Which she would have- with that same not-an-answer if I asked her why we needed to go into one of those places. “You never know.” Yes I did know. Nothing good ever came out of caves, and tombs were for dead people, some of whom had apparently not been told that they were dead and therefore should not be up walking around. Athynae had never yet seen a fire that she didn’t think needed poking or a cave that didn’t need to be explored. After some of the trouble she had gotten us into, I was beginning to believe “not knowing” might be a good thing. Some of the time.

The Expedition (as I thought of it) was harder than I had expected. The hills between Bal Isra and the coast were steep and unforgiving. But trying to go around would have delayed me too much- and put me on well-traveled paths, where someone might see me and ask what I was doing out by myself. I thought wistfully of the rows of potions in the laboratory, especially the ones sealed with purple wax and marked with Father’s symbol for levitation. But it had seemed silly to take potions when my purpose was to harvest ingredients. And my parents had rules about the use of potentially dangerous potions- like levitation. Still, I did pick up a few useful things from the dry lands, like trama root. After I had crested the third or fourth hill, the burning in my legs caused me to reconsider my definition of “silly.” In fact, I was beginning to think that my whole plan qualified for Athynae’s favorite word. I could almost hear her saying, “Well- that was stupid.”

But then I could see the green of the Bitter Coast just ahead, and the sun glinting off the sea beyond. I had not come for the view though, so I hurried down the final slope to search among the trees and pools. The buzz of insects filled the air, and the humidity was like a heavy blanket that seemed to weigh down my limbs. The abundance of ingredients made it all worthwhile though- mushrooms and swamp flowers, all the plants that grew in profusion on the coast. In addition, I harvested bark from the trees, the emperor’s parasol and Vvardenfell cypress. The cypress bark was fibrous and peeled away in long strips; that of the mushroom trees came loose in palm-sized flakes. No one had ever noted any alchemical properties from those substances, but maybe they just had not done enough research.

I saw a few mudcrabs, but they were small and easy to avoid. Father told me that the Council sent patrols along the coast every few months to look for sign of the big crabs that sometimes threatened the guar herds. The trees provided concealment from gliding cliff racers, but I still kept an eye on the sky and was careful crossing clearings. The density and height of the trees was so different from the land around Ald’ruhn and Bal Isra, and I had to remind myself to watch where I was putting my feet, instead of constantly staring upward. The patterns of light and shadow shifted in the breeze, reminding me of the pebbled hides of alit or kagouti, both of which could be found in this area. The creaks and hums of the insects seemed to take on a more sinister tone, which only heightened my thrill of fear when a low, barking cough sounded behind me.

[treydog]

@minque- So glad to have you reading. I think the rest of this story will please you- and the one that will follow, even more so, as Serene will have a prominent role.

@haute- Yes, Julian’s “what happened after” stories are a definite inspiration. The hard part has been getting Athlain to speak up about what he did back when…. And I think we will see why.

@McB- My thanks to my Constant Reader Badger. And it is nice to discover that Athynae was not always to blame.

@SubRosa- He comes by that sense of… sardoniry?… naturally- what with his father and his red-headed mother. And Athynae has definitely been the center of his universe for quite some time. And now… to find out who it was that coughed on the coast…

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Nix hound, my mind identified the source of the sound. And where there was one, there was usually a second. They were tireless trackers and could traverse steep slopes with their clawed feet. And, and this was the important bit of information, they made that particular noise when they were on a scent. Such as perhaps the scent exuded by a 9-year-old explorer who had no weapons and who had not bothered to tell anyone where he was going. That would have been an excellent time to use one of the potions I did not have. Like a “Let’s Make It So this Didn’t Happen” potion. I could probably whip something up from all the ingredients I had in my pouch, but I didn’t think the beasts would wait while their meal cooked something up- unless they wanted an appetizer or garnish. What I needed was a place to hide while I figured a way out of this mess.

I visualized the large map of the coast that Father kept in his study. He marked it every time a patrol came back, noting smuggler activity, creature sightings, and so forth. I wondered what sort of symbol he would use for “last resting place of idiot firstborn son.” That was not helpful. But the memory of a notation for a cave just a bit to the north was. At least as recently as last month, nothing had moved into it; mostly because it had flooded during the last spring storm. The Redoran patrol had scouted it and replaced the door, but nothing else. Still, it was a cave. And I didn’t like caves. Another hunting call sounded off to the right, answered by one from behind me. Yes, A wonderful, secure cave, with a nice, more-or-less solid door. With a latch. It would be perfect.

My feet flew down the path and my grateful eyes saw the fresh wood of the door. I tumbled inside and slammed it shut behind me. As I looked around the entry chamber, my mind raced. If my mysticism skill was better, I could have cast a recall spell to get me out of there. That is, I could have if I had set a mark to recall to before I left home. I also could have invited a pair of armed retainers to come along with me. Or I could have just stayed home, reading a book. But I hadn’t done any of those things. “You work with what you have, not what you wish you had.” Still, I sort of wished Athynae was there. Even if she would have been sarcastic at me for going out with nothing but a pruning knife for a weapon.

Fine then. What did I have? A small knife; two bottles of water, with more pooled inside the cave; a small mortar for grinding; a lot of ingredients; my field notebook…. Be precise! I could hear my father’s words as he helped me write down the results of our experiments. “Some” or “a little bit” or “a whole bunch” are not precise measurements. What did you mix, in what order, in what amounts- by weight? So I forced myself to slow my breathing and ignore the growls and scratching sounds from the other side of the door.

I sorted the ingredients carefully, making a list in the notebook. Somehow, seeing the names written down helped me consider the properties of each component. It was just like being back home in the laboratory- except for the whole “alone in the wilderness with things that wanted to eat me” part. But the names on the page seemed to move in front of my eyes, joining and separating in a complex dance of possibility. With those patterns came resolve. I could do this.

Some of the plants would yield their benefits from simple grinding and mixing. Others needed to be steeped. There was sufficient water, but I was afraid the mortar would crack if I exposed it to fire. Then there was the question of whether I could make a fire or not. A second look around the area near the cave entrance showed piles of driftwood, left over from the flooding. But I still needed a vessel. I looked once again at my ingredients and remembered something my father had shown me one night in the garden. It was magic of a different sort, the magic that is inherent in the nature of the elements. I took the large pieces of emperor’s parasol bark and used the tip of my knife to make a series of holes down each of the long edges. Then I pulled fibers from the cypress bark and twisted them together into a kind of twine. I wet the parasol bark and pressed it around the mortar to shape it. Then I threaded the twine through the holes in the edges and made a bark cup. I sealed the seams with mud mixed from the cave floor, and finally made a twine handle for my vessel. While it dried, I gathered firewood and lit it with a spell. As long as I kept the bark bowl suspended in such a way that the top of the water was higher than the flames, the bark would not burn. It was the best kind of magic. And then it was time to mix up some potions.

Potions were good, but a weapon would also be useful. ‘Thyna was right about that, even if I wasn’t ever going to tell her so. I had a blade, even if it was a small one. And it was sharp. What I needed was something to allow me to use the blade while staying out of reach of the nix hounds’ claws… or the beaks and tails of cliff racers, if everything else worked out. Rummaging through the piles of driftwood produced a springy limb about five feet long and an inch or two in diameter. I used some more of my cypress fibers to lash my knife to one end. It was not a great spear, but it was what I had. Coating the knife blade with the last of the concoctions I had mixed might help. And then- it was time. I gathered up all of my gear, swallowed the other potion I had created, and slipped outside.

* * * * *

Father sat behind his desk, not saying anything. He closed my journal and placed it beside my homemade spear, my bark bowl, and everything else I had brought back from my journey. He wasn’t frowning, but he wasn’t smiling, either. He just… looked at me. And at the things lined up precisely on his desk. Just when I had decided I was either going to fidget or explode from trying not to, he spoke.

“So. You made a levitation potion from coda flowers and trama root. And you used that to get back over the ridges.”

He laid a hand on the “spear” and continued, “You also mixed a paralysis potion from ampoule pods and hackle-lo, which you used for your… weapon. And you did all of this in a cave, without proper equipment or assistance. And you made detailed notes of everything you did.”

Despite the phrasing, those were not questions, so I didn’t have to answer. Which was good, because I had no idea what to say. His next non-question was even worse.

“How can one person be so clever and so foolish- at the very same time? You left without saying anything to anyone about where you were going, alone, with no way to get back quickly if you got into trouble…” he paused. “And then, when you did get into trouble, you managed to get back, unharmed, through your own knowledge and efforts.”

He looked at me again, with an expression on his face as if he was not sure who I was. His hands again reached down to touch the things on the desk, seemingly of their own volition.

“What am I supposed to do about this? No- please- don’t try to answer. Why couldn’t you give me a simple problem, like trying to set the house on fire? Don’t answer that one, either.”

He looked at the door of his study, his blue eyes seeming to pierce the thick wooden panels. “Your mother is currently advocating sealing you in your room for the next fifteen years. I think I can talk her out of that- or at least reduce the length of your confinement to a more reasonable figure.” He finally smiled, just the least bit, and I remembered to breathe.

His hands stopped their restless movement among the items on the desk and he clapped them together, once. “Here is how it is going to be. You must, from this day forward, inform a responsible adult whenever you leave the house. You will describe your destination, your purpose, and your companions, if any. However, that responsible adult may, purely at their own discretion, modify or veto your plans. If that occurs, you will not argue, whine, wheedle, or otherwise attempt to change that decision. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Wonderful. You begin to show signs of a rudimentary intelligence. Perhaps you will not have to spend the next ten years as a kwama forager. Now. As to the immediate future. You are restricted to the house for the next two weeks. During that time, you will take meals with the family; work under supervision in the laboratory, kitchen, or studio; assist the house staff in any way they may request. You will do these things willingly and with at least the guise of cheerfulness.”

Then he stood up and came around the desk. Dropping to his knees before my chair, he embraced me tightly. “You are my son,” he whispered into my hair. “If you want my trust, you need to trust me in equal measure. Exploring is fine, as long as you tell someone first, as long as you are prepared, and as long as you do not go alone.”

He released me, and I saw moisture in his eyes that matched the tears running down my own cheeks. “Your mother also wishes to speak with you. I think she has something to give you.”

That made me nervous- because Mother had a temper to go with her red hair. At least, that’s what I heard Father say to Sethyas one time, when they did not know I was listening. But on the other hand, I thought it would work out, because the two weeks I was to be restricted just happened to be the length of time Athynae was going to be gone. And I knew my parents knew that.

* * * * *

Athynae had only been back in Ald’ruhn for a few hours when she came to find me.

“So, I bet things were pretty dull while I was gone.”

I touched the intervention amulet Mother had given me two weeks previously and smiled before I answered, “You never know.”