New Life and Saturalia, Celebrating Chorrol's 20th Anniversary Options

[Acadian]

Burnt Sierra was kind enough to remind us that Chorrol is fast approaching 20 years old. In order to celebrate, he urged our writers to prepare and offer stories with a New Life Celebration theme.

Though this entry is more Saturalia than New Life, we figured that was close enough. For those not familiar with Buffy’s adventures in the Second Era, Mirri Elendis is Buffy’s Dunmeri sellshield, and Buffy serves as healer and damage dealer for Mirri. The pair of adventuresses literally depend on each other to stay alive. I think this single episode Saturalia story helps showcase the resultant friendship.

*

The Gift Exchange

As the Bosmer presented a bottle for Mirri’s inspection, I smiled.

Mirri’s eyes flew open wide. “Is that . . . Blue Aedral?!?”

“Yes, milady,” replied the tavern maid.

Mirri said, “Blue Aedral is produced in such tiny batches, I never expected a pub in Malabal Tor - so far from the West Weald - would carry a wine so posh and exotic.”

“And you’d be right,” the Bosmer lass stated. “Your friend here provided this bottle.” With that she proceeded to uncork the wine, fill two goblets and left us.

I lifted my goblet. “Happy Saturalia, my friend!”

Mirri returned my sentiment with, “And a profitable New Life for our adventuring partnership in the coming year.”

The wine was indeed excellent – as most West Weald reds were. Mirri, however, absolutely moaned in ecstasy as she sipped it. Finally, she commented, “Blue Aedral is considered by many to be the finest wine in all of Tamriel. Who’d you have to sleep with to get your hands on a bottle?”

I chuckled. “No one. . . but I did have to fight for it.”

“My pocket healer fighting without her sellshield? Now there’s a story I want to hear!”

“I wanted to get you a really nice wine for Saturalia,” I began, “and my research took me to Skingrad. The wine merchant there was quite informative and recommended Blue Aedral – but had none in stock. Instead, she sent me to the source – Dellinoi Winery.” I paused for another sip, and to privately lament that Tamika would not start her winery for another 700 years.

The tavern maid returned with some fresh bread and cheese.

The smell apparently summoned my nixad familiar, Willow, from the mage pouch at my hip. She investigated the wine but rejected it in favor of a small piece of cheese. “Once Superian and I got to the winery,” I continued, “we learned that this year’s entire batch of Blue Aedral was only four cases. Such a small supply rendered it incredibly valuable, so the winery’s owner, Orissa Dellinoi, was personally accompanying the caravan transporting it to Skingrad. I had to prove to the winery that my intentions were honorable before they would even discuss the secret route taken. My aura of Holy Light as a paladin did the trick though and, armed with the knowledge of their pathing, I set off after the caravan.”

“It would seem you found the secretive procession and managed to somehow coax them out of a bottle,” remarked Mirri after savoring another sip. “But where did the fighting come in?”

“Well,” I continued, “I located the caravan, but they had been hijacked by bandits who somehow knew both their route and precise nature – including the value - of their cargo. Orissa’s dog and I tracked the bandits into a nearby cave – that’s where the fighting came in. I found some correspondence on the bandit leader’s corpse. Seems it was an inside job, with the beans – or grapes in this case – spilled by Orissa’s own caravan master! The bandits were actually led by a former vintner who had gone out of business several years ago. Quite the sordid affair but, with the bandits dead, wine recovered and the turncoat securely bound in the back of the winery’s wagon, Orissa figured the Skingrad magistrate’s job would be easy. She offered me the now vacant position of Dellinoi Winery caravan master but I managed to talk her into this bottle of Blue Aedral instead.”

“Well-done, partner!” exclaimed Mirri. “What a thoughtful gift, and righteously obtained.”

I smiled. “Orissa’s dog was bigger than I, and quite helpful at protecting me from the bandits as I healed him and damaged them. That said though, he was nowhere near the sellshield that you are.”

“Good to hear I shall not be replaced by a dog,” joked Mirri. She lifted the flap on her thief’s pouch and, as she fished around inside, added, “Oh, I got you something too.” She then produced two combs and handed them to me.

As soon as they touched my hand, I knew they were enchanted. Holding them up to my nose and taking a sniff to confirm another suspicion, I said, “Sandalwood! It makes for absolutely the best combs.” Willow knew what combs were for and joined me in carefully examining them. “What is the enchantment?” I inquired.

“The one with longer teeth lengthens your hair a bit each time you pull it through,” replied Mirri. “Similarly, the one with shorter teeth decreases the length of your hair when used. I know you like to change your hairstyle frequently, so now you can readily alter its length as well. Talking Dagail into enchanting the combs was easy once I told her who they were for.”

I freed my ponytail and, as I was about to try one of the combs, Willow took exception and asserted herself as my stylist. Hovering around my head with the shorter-toothed comb in her tiny hands, she parted my hair on one side and ran the comb through it until she was satisfied.

Summoning a small looking glass revealed that I now had a bobbed style that fell no lower than the corners of my jaw – rather reminiscent of how Praxedes Rousseau, the Order of the Lamp’s palatinus, wore her hair. “Nice job, Willow. . . although tomorrow I think we might try a pair of waist length braids.”

Mirri chuckled. “I think you two will have great fun.”

“These combs certainly open possibilities,” I mused. “In fact, I shouldn’t be surprised if Willow tries her hand on your hair as well. And Superian’s mane. . . and maybe her tail. Thank you for the thoughtful gift!”

[Acadian]

This is another one episode story that takes place within a tenday of our previous offering and focuses on celebrating New Life.

*

A Cloud Dancer’s Pilgrimage

I was grateful for my scant weight of six stone as I perilously made my way along the fragile, highest branches of Elden Root.

“Buffy,” remarked Acadian with a hint of concern in his voice, “what is wrong with the several acorns we have passed?”

“I’ll know the right one. . . somehow, when we get close enough,” I replied.

The tree had drawn me to this point and, as I crept on my stomach toward the end of the dangerously swaying branch, I saw it. My acorn. Once I was close enough to grasp it, Willow was hovering nearby and ready as she quickly took the acorn from my hand and stowed it in the mage pouch at my hip. I gratefully returned my hand to the branch to avoid losing my balance. Turning around out here was out of the question so I slowly moved backwards along the way I came until the branches were sturdy and large enough that I could stand up. And breathe easier.

*

“So, what are your plans for celebrating New Life?” I asked before lifting a spoonful of porridge to my mouth.

Mirri lowered her wine goblet to the Elden Root bistro’s table and replied, “My family will all be home in Balmora and I plan to join them. How about you?”

I took a sip of tea. “That sounds wonderful, even as I confess a bit of envy. I shall be doing my first Elden Root New Life pilgrimage.”

Mirri chuckled. “I should have known. What does that entail? A bark eating contest or such?”

“No, silly,” I admonished with a smile. “Smaller oaks drop acorns and rely on squirrels, chipmunks and blue jays to spread and bury them far and wide to produce new saplings. Graht oaks – with their much larger acorns don’t drop them; rather, they rely on the Cloud Dancer elves of their tribes to harvest the acorns, then deliver and plant them in suitable growing spots.” With Willow’s help, I produced my acorn and showed it to Mirri.

My partner’s ruby eyes widened. “With acorns bigger than my fist, I suppose all of us below a graht oak’s massive canopy should be thankful that they are harvested and not dropped from great heights. That could be lethal!”

It was my turn to chuckle. “The pilgrimage is a New Life tradition. Most of us who have come of age and are physically able try to do this pilgrimage each year. Travel in Valenwood, as I’m sure you know, can be dangerous but this is one of the few things our tree asks of us.”

*

The following morning’s light found Superian and I threading our way through the verdant forest. I marveled at the sights, sounds and smells of rich life all around us. Willow flitted about, happily gorging on her favorite prey – small flying insects. It was quiet, save the occasional protest of our passing by birds or monkeys.

“Have you selected a planting site?” asked Acadian.

“Out there.” I pointed south – our current direction.

“Rather a large area, is it not?” Before I could answer, he continued, “Buffy, what drew you to the particular acorn you carry in your pouch?”

“Acadian, as you know, I now carry the sap of Elden Root in my veins. I can sense Elden Root in this acorn. But. . . I also carry a tiny amount of sap from the tree I was conceived in – courtesy of my mother - and I can tell this acorn carries a hint of that sap as well. The tree of my parent’s tribe. I’m sure now that is what drew me to this particular acorn. It is destined to grow into Alderglean.”

“Alderglean,” mused Acadian, “was – or, rather, will be destroyed by a lightning storm late in the Third Era forcing your parents to flee to Bravil while you were still in the womb.”

“Yes,” I replied. “And I will be the elf to plant it. There’s just one problem.”

“And that would be?” asked Acadian.

“I was far too young when my parents fled Alderglean to know its precise location.” A thought then struck. “But you were with me even then! Were you not?”

“I was indeed. Give me a moment.” Shortly, he continued, “Though deeply buried, I do have a memory of your mother while she carried you that might help. I can see some of the tree’s surroundings but not enough to precisely locate it.”

I heaved a sigh of disappointment. Willow had apparently been listening, for she chose that moment to hover in front of me, wave her arms and chitter rather insistently.

Acadian chuckled. “Well, she is a tracker, is she not?”

I tilted my head. “I know you can show me your memory but can you show it to Willow?”

“Not directly,” he replied, “but if you establish a healing bond with her, she might be able to see what I show you.”

“Complicated, but it just might work. . . and we have few other options. Willow, are you following this?”

The nixad tracker nodded excitedly then did a graceful pirouette.

I drew Superian to a stop and dismounted. “This area looks safe enough.” I held out an open hand, and palm up. “Willow would you land here so I can establish a bond of healing between us?”

She did as I asked without protest and folded her wings along her back as she stood quietly. I gently wrapped my other hand around her tiny body and closed my eyes. “Acadian, give me a moment to bond with Willow, then show us your memory, please.”

I had never had to heal Willow, and immediately gained an appreciation for how different her physiology was from humans, mer or even betmer. Nevertheless, our feelings and thoughts were able to intertwine. A moment later, Acadian’s memory grew into focus. My mother was obviously with child – me – as she gathered herbs, perhaps an arrowshot distant from Alderglean. I noted a low cliff to one side of the tree and a trio of mammoth-sized boulders on the other side. I heard the distant calls of seagulls and detected a whiff of sea air. The vision faded. I let the bond between Willow and I fade as well. I hoped it would be enough.

Willow hugged my hand then hopped into air. She flew in a slow circle as if searching. After what seemed a long time, she hovered, faced to the south and pointed.

I let the breath out that I only now realized I had been holding and exclaimed, “Thank Kynareth for you, my wonderful little tracker! And thank you as well my old and wise paladin!”

Willow performed a backward aerial sumersault and chittered her approval.

Remounting Superian, I said, “Lead the way, little one.”

She did so. For several hours Willow slowly flew ahead of us at a pace that was consistent with Superian’s ability to weave our way through the ferns and thick undergrowth of the forest. Routinely, the nixad would turn around to ensure we were still keeping up. We made only one stop – at a small babbling stream where Superian and I drank our fill and I filled my waterskin.

Not much farther along our journey, the forest began to thin. Eventually, Willow came to a hover and pointed to the ground.

Sure enough, there was the low cliff and boulders I had seen in Acadian’s memory. Farther toward the south I could indeed hear distant seagulls and barely smell the salt air of southern Grahtwood’s coast.

I dismounted and walked over to the spot Willow indicated. She retreated into the mage pouch at my hip, only to emerge moments later with both arms wrapped around my acorn.

“Thank you,” I said as I took the focus of our pilgrimage from her. I then summoned my elven hunting knife, knelt on the ground and began preparing the soil. Once the acorn was planted, I closed my eyes. “Mara - Mother of Nirn – please breathe precious life into this acorn. And Kynareth - my patron and Goddess of Forest and Sky – I ask that you nourish the resultant seedling with your sunshine and rain that it may grow into a healthy sapling and eventually a mighty graht oak that kisses the clouds. With your blessing, this tree shall be called Alderglean and sustain the tribe of my parents.”

I felt an arm around my shoulders. “Well done, Buffy. Mara and I shall each do our part.”

I instantly recognized the voice as Kynareth’s. She was in her mundane form as a Nordic woman in a simple white dress and kneeling beside me. “What a wonderful and welcome surprise, my friend,” I said with a grin.

“I see your Elden Root New Life pilgrimage has been successful,” she replied.

I nodded. “Yes, with the help of both Acadian and Willow. But. . . I confess the whole idea of planting the tree in which I will someday be conceived makes my head hurt when I think about it.”

She smiled, then squeezed me close against her and rested her chin atop my head. “Be at ease, my paladin. That you shall be both mother and daughter of Alderglean and its tribe is a natural part of the river of time, for currents do not always flow in one direction.”

“As always, Kynareth, I will trust in and be grateful for your wisdom.”