Postcards from Tamriel, Stories and such that fall somewhere between a snippet and a thread Options

[Grits]

Hi folks!

My characters are getting unruly, so I thought I’d make a place where I can hide from them while they fight it out. I mean, while I figure out what to do. The first time this happened, I posted Home for the Holidays, a very short story about Abiene’s Saturalia visit to Leyawiin in the year 3E432. I should have made this thread then, but at the time I still thought that every word I wrote would be the last. Someday I hope to make an offering at The Temple of Lore, but for now I’m still too guilty of undisciplined sprawling. I’ll start a story in the next post.

As always, comments and discussion are very welcome!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 23 2019, 03:31 AM

[Grits]

mALX: It has been so hot and dry here, I keep thinking it wouldn’t be so bad if we had a nice tropical sea to go with the weather. I’d settle for the Mediterranean. I guess Jerric never lost that urgent, growing boy hunger. I know you’ve seen that in action! Thanks, mALX!

haute ecole rider: I’m glad you liked their grotto adventure. Fear not, Anvil’s future Blade trainer will keep his chin up!

SubRosa: Oh, good point about the mer-maids! I changed it. I was completely creeping myself out with the dark tunnel. I’m glad you enjoyed the little game references. It all started with the sweetroll. Now it’s time to get poor Rhano out from under the cliff. I love that song, thank you for the music! This episode doesn’t have a train, but there is a skinny boy running.

Acadian: I’m glad you enjoyed the dimensions. Jerric is still likely to estimate using unconventional measurements, at least when he’s just thinking. Of course Darnand would have said, “The diameter is approximately nineteen feet, seven inches.” It was fun to imagine what a boy might think about his situation. For example, in the next section when we know that Jerric must be crusty with salt, sweat, sand, and dust, he just doesn’t notice.

Destri Melarg: I was definitely trusting in everyone’s willingness to come along for the ride, writing a story where everyone knows the end. I am delighted to hear about the chills, pins, and needles. The boys certainly don’t know that they’re going to be all right. Of course their friendship is the part that I wanted to convey the most. It means so much to hear that it's coming across.



Tides: The Last Part

Jerric’s feet flew over the sand as he ran back toward Anvil. Who should I bring to help Rhano, he wondered. First decide that, then decide which way to go.

Rhano had asked for his Fa. Jerric rejected that idea immediately. There was no way anyone could pull Rhano fast enough with a rope, and Ongve might be too broad to even make it through the tunnel. Maybe if they had a boat with a winch, then Jerric could swim a rope in, but there was no time to organize rowers or wait for the wind.

Jerric’s eyes found the lighthouse. Still too small. He let the panic drive his legs faster, and his mind cleared again.

Magic. The thought came with calm certainty. Magic would let them breathe water, and give them time to swim out. Mages have to be smart, so a mage would see that he had to help Rhano. The Mages Guild hall was right by Anvil’s Main Gate. I’ll run through Westgate to the Mages Guild, he decided.

The streets were half-full of folk on foot, even in the heat. Jerric slowed down only enough to avoid bumping anyone. Running away from shouting adults was a good way to meet some of Anvil’s city guards, and Jerric thought that he had met enough of them already. He glanced up at the sun. Well past mid-day. He would only have one chance to convince the mages. By the time he ran to find Rhano’s parents at the harbor, it would be too late.

When Jerric saw the giant evergreen oak inside the Main Gate, he knew he had almost reached the guild halls. A few breaths later, he darted under the portico of the Mages Guild and hit the door running. It swung open almost weightlessly, and he found himself leaping down an unexpected set of steps into the entry chamber. His bare feet slid on the cool tiles when he landed. A wide counter rose in front of him, holding a row of gleaming glass objects. The Altmer standing there looked as fancy as a countess. She glanced up from her book.

“My friend is trapped!” Jerric gasped.

“We will alert a member of the city guard for you, child,” she told him kindly. “This is the Guild of Mages.”

“No!” Jerric tried to explain. Organize your words, he heard his Ma telling him. “He’s trapped under water. In a sea cave. It’s too far for him to swim, he hurt his leg. I need magic to save him. You have magic! We have to hurry, the tide!”

Jerric found himself being turned by the shoulders. Blazing red eyes stared out of a gray-green face. A dark elf mage, Jerric’s mind whispered in awe. Concern filled the mer's wrinkled face. “Calm, lad. You have found help for your friend. Now tell me, where is this cave?”

Jerric blurted his story to the Dunmer. He couldn’t imagine how this old mer in a silken robe could help him, but need made him trust.

Someone put a mug in Jerric’s hands. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was until he tasted water, sweet and clean. “Run to the Dock Gate, I will meet you there,” the Dunmer told him. “I will only be a moment behind you.” The mage gave Jerric’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “As you said, lad, we have magic. Do not go on without me. You are the one who must take me to the cave.”

As Jerric worked his way back toward the harbor, the mage’s words kept his purpose clear above the fear that sped his feet. Don’t change the plan, he told himself when he reached the Dock Gate. You are the one who must bring the mage to Rhano.

Jerric spent only moments dancing with impatience before a dark elf approached him. “Lead the way, lad,” the mer said.

Jerric stared at him. This Dunmer wore a faded linen tunic and breeches. His silver-streaked hair was tied at his neck.

“Make haste, lad! I will keep up.” The mer released a swirl of magicka from his fist.

It’s the mage, Jerric realized. He’s using spells to be fast. Jerric whirled toward the gate and took off running again.

When they reached the sea cliffs, Jerric was gasping for breath. The Dunmer dropped his shoulder bag on the sand and began to quickly organize his supplies. He buttoned potion bottles into his pockets.

“That rope’s not long enough!” cried Jerric, jumping with urgency.

The mer gave him a solemn look as he worked.

It’s not for leading Rhano out, Jerric realized with a sickening lurch. It’s for trussing his body in case he’s… Jerric sprinted into the sea and started swimming.

The surf had picked up considerably. Jerric worried that silt would cloud the tunnel, obscuring their way out. He cast his eyes up and saw no clouds. Maybe the light will still show us, he thought. Jerric had never been inside a chapel, but he knew what his Fa would say. Kyne, bless us with sunlight.

“I see the cave,” the Dunmer called from the water. “Go back to the beach, lad! I must reserve the potions for your friend.”

Jerric knew he should obey. He took a few quick breaths. I told him I’d come back for him, Jerric thought. I told him I’d make it. The first thing he sees is going to be me.

The Dunmer’s shout was lost under the waves as Jerric dove.

The surge pulled harder now, but it pushed him as well. Jerric’s pounding heart demanded more air, and his chest heaved with effort. Should have waited outside, he realized as water leaked into his nose. His head burst through the surface as a wave crested inside the cavern, sending his face frighteningly close to the rocks.

Rhano had wedged himself into a crack high in the wall. Jerric could see his head and shoulders above the water. The Dunmer surfaced between them almost immediately. Rhano glanced at him, then his eyes went back to Jerric.

“Potion,” gasped Jerric, struggling to snort the water back out. He had no time to feel relieved.

Rhano’s reply was made incoherent by his chattering teeth. By the time Jerric reached them, the mage had a potion bottle in his hand.

The mer’s red eyes were not pleased when he looked at Jerric. “Go when your wind returns, and not before,” he told Jerric. “I want you to swim out first, in case you have difficulty. I see that your friend here is a brave lad, and he will be right behind you. You need not fear for him. Getting yourself out safely is now your only concern.”

Jerric had never felt so foolish. He grabbed the edge of the rock to hold himself steady. When he was finally ready, the Dunmer administered the potion to Rhano.

Rhano cooperated without questions. “It will turn the water to air as you breathe, lad,” the mer told him. “You will see clearly. If something should alarm you, close your eyes and do not struggle. I will pull us out by gripping the rocks. I need you to hold on to me. Are you able?”

Rhano nodded. Jerric pushed back to the middle of the pool. “See you out there,” he said, then he dove to the tunnel at the bottom of the cavern.

A pale green light touched the rocks under the water, and Jerric realized that the mage was the source. He wondered what the mer had seen on the way in that made him warn Rhano. Best not to think about it, Jerric decided. He kicked against the surge with all of his strength. Best not to put your hand on it, either. He shuddered every time he had to reach into blurry darkness.

Shadows gave way to open blue water, then the cloudless summer sky. Jerric closed his eyes and turned his face to the sun while he caught his breath. The waves lifted and dropped him playfully. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked around. Rhano and the Dunmer were not with him.

By the time Jerric had started to fill his lungs to dive back down, he saw their heads break the surface near the beach. They swam underwater, he realized. Maybe that was easier than fighting the surf. Relief made his limbs feel weak. He rolled onto his back and kicked for the shore.

Jerric felt calm again by the time he reached them. Rhano sat shivering on the sand, his face tight with pain. The Dunmer knelt beside him. “The bone is broken, but it will be easy to heal,” said the mer. “May I?”

Rhano tried to pull away. “No! My mother…”

“They don’t trust magic,” Jerric explained. “We’re in a lot of trouble already. I know we won’t be allowed in the sea caves any more. I guess that’s all right, though. But if you healed him… They would be more mad.”

“I expect the sea caves have lost their appeal for your friend,” the Dunmer said gently. Jerric saw that Rhano’s bleak face held more than pain. “Allow me to splint the ankle, and we will carry him home.” Rhano nodded to the mage. “This is going to be uncomfortable,” the Dunmer warned him.

Rhano’s fingers felt stiff and cold. “Zombie hand,” Jerric whispered. Rhano didn’t smile, but at least he squeezed back.

The mer carefully adjusted Rhano’s ankle. “That’s nothing,” Jerric said to cover Rhano’s gasp. “See that scar on his arm? A bone was sticking out, and he hardly even cried.” The Dunmer began binding Rhano’s leg. “You do it like my brother,” Jerric told him.

“The Anvil chapter of my guild specializes in teaching restoration magic,” the mage remarked. “However, I imagine a Nord lad might have more experience with this technique.” His red eyes looked friendly again. “I am pleased that you approve.”

“I’ll carry you,” Jerric told Rhano. His friend’s silence was beginning to worry him. The Dunmer hoisted Rhano onto Jerric’s back, and they began their slow progress down the beach. Jerric stepped carefully to avoid jarring Rhano’s ankle. “I’ll pay you back,” Jerric told the mage. “It might take a long time, though.”

The Dunmer walked along beside Jerric as if they were simply out for a stroll. “Do you lads live in Anvil?” he asked. His tone sounded mild and companionable.

Jerric decided to do the talking. “Rhano does, but I’m from Kvatch. I’m staying with him for the summer.”

“How old are you?”

“I’ll be ten in Sun’s Dusk,” Jerric told him proudly. “Rhano turns ten next month, but I’m already bigger than him.” He waited for Rhano to point out that he was faster, but he stayed silent.

The mage looked them over with an amused smile. “I expect that will not change. You are blessed by the Atronach, lad. Do you know what that means?”

“I won’t have any magicka,” said Jerric. “It’s all right, I’m going to be a caravan guard.”

“You will not have any magicka of your own, but there will be many ways you can acquire it. Has no one explained this to you?”

Jerric shook his head. Part of him resented the implied criticism, but most of him felt desperately curious.

“Think of it this way,” said the Dunmer. “Each mortal is a vessel of a different size that can hold magicka. Most of us fill up slowly like a well.” He paused, looking over at Jerric.

“But I’m not a well,” Jerric guessed. “I’ll never fill up. How is that a blessing?”

“You can fill up, lad. You might gain magicka from a potion, or from an Ayleid well. Some stones collect magicka that you might learn to use. But the most important way, the way that will be useful for a caravan guard, is by reaping the magicka from the spells of others. You might absorb any sort of magical attack, even curses that are intended for you. When you absorb the magicka, you take it away from the spell. Then the attack cannot hurt you.”

Jerric felt awe prickle over his skin. “So when my brother Rothmund got burned by a hedge wizard, that might not happen to me?”

“It will still sometimes happen,” the Dunmer told him. “You will never know in advance which attacks will harm you, and which will provide you with magicka. There are spells and enchantments that can increase a person’s chance of absorbing an attack. Perhaps you will want to learn about them when you are older.”

Jerric could tell that there was more. He saved his breath for walking.

After a moment the mage continued. “I mentioned that everyone is a vessel of a certain size. Nords tend to begin as smaller vessels, but with effort they might make themselves hold more magicka. The stars gave you a gift, lad. If you choose to study magic, you will begin with power that might rival a young Altmer's.”

Jerric halted, stunned. He felt Rhano’s arms tighten around his neck. “Jerric, no,” Rhano whispered.

The Dunmer stopped and looked back at them. “Where do you live, lads? I shall see you to your door, but I imagine your explanations will be easier absent my presence.”

“Westgate,” Jerric said. They began walking again. “We won’t tell a lie, sir. Ongve might come to speak with you, that’s Rhano’s Fa. We’ll have told him the truth.” Jerric swallowed the lump in his throat. He would get a thrashing over this adventure for certain, as Rhano would when his leg healed. Ongve had heavy hands and the conviction that discipline was as important as nourishing food. Jerric’s own Fa was far more lenient with him. “I said I’d pay you back, but I don’t know how. Do you have any work I could do?”

The Dunmer looked him over as they walked. Jerric braced himself for ridicule, but the mage’s voice stayed kind. “You look strong enough to split wood for the kitchen, but I have a better idea, if you are willing. Come to the guild hall and ask for me. The meadows are full of alchemy ingredients in the summer, and there are never enough hands to gather them. I will instruct you on their proper collection, and apply what you earn as credit toward the potion I used. Does that sound acceptable?”

“Yeah,” Jerric breathed in relief. His manners returned in a rush. “I mean, yes, sir. Sera. Thank you.” he felt a grin split his face.

The mage glanced over with an answering smile. “Master Relas,” he said.

“Yes, Master Relas. I’m Jerric. Pleased to meet you.”




This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 11 2011, 01:14 PM