Blood on the Moon, A Journey of Discovery Options

[minque]

NEVER let Serene's daughter tamper with mystic scrolls and stuff..THAT can turn out otherwise what you expected dear Athlain! If I were you I would NOT trust that girl....ehhh not in THAT way anyway...

The relationship between then develops with every installment...ist a sheer joy to follow this. Also I like when they meet with Nords...hehe no wonder huh?

More , Mr Expert Author !

[treydog]

@McBadgere- My thanks, as ever. As to reading from the start- I will say as did the character in Holy Grail- “I got better…” And it has been fun to give some life and personality to the folks at Thirsk- a trick I learned from others on this forum.

@Olen- The tension between the “A and A team” is something we have worked to make realistic- your words assure me that we have done. And yes, there are cross-purposes and misunderstandings on the horizon. As to the 10000 word treatment- only if it includes the synchronoclastic infundibulum….

@mALX- Yep. He may do great things in his life- but the mystery that is Athynae will elude him forever. And his intent will be revealed- but not yet.

@minque- Athynae and scrolls- we may see something about that- in this story or the other… Hmmm- wheels begin turning. In this case, you will see that Serene’s teaching again comes to the rescue, though. And it is such fun putting these two strong people together and just letting them… be themselves. Much more Nordish goodness coming up very soon. We can never thank you enough for all your encouragement as we “borrow” Serene’s children.

Where we are- Athlain has been greeted as the chieftain of Thirsk- and scarpered off with Athynae’s sword for some reason. Meanwhile, he was only able to achieve that legendary feat of light-fingeredness because Thyna herself is immersed in the study of the scroll which contains the recipe for curing lycanthropy- and perhaps causing her to now be night-blind.

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As Athlain reached for the door of the mead hall it burst open and Svenja, in a voice I was not familiar with and a formality to accompany it, said:

“I greet you, Chieftain of Thirsk. And your… companion, also.”

It was a little off setting but that flew out of my head when I saw Bryn and I felt like a little girl. I squealed. I know it wasn’t exactly something I would normally do but for just that moment I wasn’t there in that deplorable situation under even worse conditions, I was just a “wee lass” to someone that I had known what seemed like my entire life through Mother. I launched myself at him, for just the briefest span of time I NEEDED to feel small and naïve and protected.

He allowed me to hold on and he held me and whispered in my ear so no one else could hear “Yer safe here lass, I’ve gotch ye.” And he set me away from him. I didn’t register what he said after that as I basked in the warmth of his presence- until he said something about Athlain challenging the Duke of Dread. Athlain turned a color of red I had not seen on him but a handful of times; it was a struggle not to laugh. Just the thought of laughing at something felt good.

Svenja pulled some sideways invitation into the hall by throwing a slant at Bryn about being hairy and fat. It wasn’t very nice, but unfortunately it was true. It made him kind of cuddly in a big, mean smith sort of way.

I don’t know what I expected to see. I knew what had happened there, I had tried to imagine the destruction, and had those dreams of blood and death. But the enormity of the changes that had taken place brought it all into focus and it took my breath, both for the beauty of what Svenja had accomplished and for all that she had needed to do to get there. There were a few things that were familiar, but those few were surrounded by a different world. I scanned the interior of the mead hall with admiration and pain.

“And now, Athlain, Chieftain of Thirsk, take your place and drink from the cup of returning.” Svenja was looking at Athlain with a reverence and respect that was as beautiful as it was shocking. She reached and touched my arm at the elbow to lead me to the front of the hall behind Athlain.

“I can see you have things to discuss, but I am still a bit tired. I think I will go to my room now.” I turned to go and remembered the scroll. “Could I borrow the Glenmoril scroll from you? I would like to study it.”
Athlain reached into his pack and handed it to me, letting his fingers brush mine briefly.

“Rest first, Thyna,” was all he said.

I heard Athlain’s voice as I reached the top of the stairs, but I didn’t quite understand his words. I was already reviewing in my head all that I knew about scroll magic and potions and languages, anything that could be the cause of the night blindness. I turned the knob of the door to the room I always stayed in and with a touch of trepidation for what I would see I opened the door. The flood of relief was like a swim in Lake Fjalding. It was all the same, familiar surroundings, plush compared to where I had been for the past however many weeks between the boat ride and the search and…. I removed my armor and all of my weapons except, of course, my dagger, the stars that I had decided I would not ever be without again and my waist pouch, and tossed them on the floor. I went to the ewer and bowl on the table and splashed my face and hands to wash away the fatigue that I couldn’t seem to shake.

I sat at the small desk and rolled out the scroll. It kept trying to roll itself back up so I weighed it down with the ink bottle on one corner, a candle snuffer on one corner, and for lack of anything else, I pulled two darts from my gear and stuck them in the other two corners to hold them down.

It read exactly as Athlain had said, word for word. The script was odd, curls and dips I’d never seen before. I had seen an extensive array of scrolls that dated back all the way to one from the First Era, a benefit of being the Arch Mistress’ daughter.

I dislodged the scroll from its anchors just to feel the material between my hands. It was a tad heavy for parchment. Close study revealed it wasn’t parchment at all, but rather some sort of very thin animal skin. I ran my fingers over the words as if reading by touch instead of my sight. Upon reaching the last of the words the feel changed, or the sense- I’m not sure how to describe it, but somehow the magic of the scroll had been tainted. I shivered.

I sat back down at the desk and re-anchored the scroll. I stared, unblinking, in a hope that something would change, but nothing did. I don’t know how long I sat in that position before the knock on the door had me on my feet, dagger in one hand and a star in the other.

“Thyna?” Athlain’s voice came through the door “May I come in? Are you, um, decent?”

I answered as I returned the weapons to their resting places and gave an internal laugh at myself for the over reaction. “Yes Athlain, come in.” He opened the door slowly and looked around it as if to make sure. “What did you think, I’d be standing here in my next to nothings waiting for your arrival? Not quite. I’m not some hussy from the mainland.”

He came in but left the door ajar. “The way you were dressed at the cabin….” My look cut him off, but he gave a small smile. “Sarcasm works both ways, Thyna.”

“Ok,” I gave a short snicker. “I bought that one. Are you finished with your chiefly duties?” I quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You are in an interesting mood. I take it the scroll is not offering any answers?”

“No,” I shook my head as I answered and sat back down at the desk.

“I’ll leave you to it then, but before I go, I was going to take my gear to Bryn. Would you like me to take yours as well?”

“Sure,” I tossed over my shoulder. “It’s right there at the end of the bed.” And I was immersed in my study of the scroll again. I drew to myself a small orb of magicka to translate the magic of the scroll. It was odd; the colors weren’t pure; the magic was debased. I dropped my head into my hands.

Even when you do everything right, by appearances, as Athlain had done, it didn’t ensure the outcome would be exactly as you desired. There was a possibility, however slight, that if I could figure out what had been altered, I could fix it. But how? Of all the areas I had studied with Mother, I could not recall a single session where we had even discussed how to decipher and separate one magic from another.

I rose from the chair and paced the room, twirling a throwing star in my fingers, reaching for all of the obscure magic we had studied, my personal fascination with old world magic before the guild and the restrictions, before the Dunmer were cursed. Nothing struck a chord; I didn’t know whether the scroll had been created by Hircine or long before; I didn’t know what part the Glenmoril Sisters had played in this game or if Boethiah had stirred more into the pot than Athlain had shared.

Frustration was another emotion I did not get along with well. My head was pounding and I hadn’t noticed until I sat back down, that in the process of twirling the star, I had also cut my fingers. Great, I’m an idiot. It didn’t take anything from my magicka to heal them; it wasn’t serious, just stupid.

I reached back and untied the leather thong holding my braid, pulled my hair over my shoulder and unwound the tendrils, brushing it out with my fingers. Red, whatever had possessed me? But the dye, along with the magic I’d used, meant it would be this color forever- or until I changed it.

“At least it suits your temper.” Those were the very first words Athlain had said when he saw it. I suppose he was right. I felt my eyelids getting heavy, but I had to figure this out. I had to- what if it was something that got worse over time?

I jerked awake when the star that had been lying in my lap clanged to the floor. When I raised my head a piece of my hair drew an ink line across the desk. Something stirred in my head. I pulled the darts out of the scroll and moved the ink bottle and snuffer, picking it up. Holding it in front of the lamp burning on the desk I inspected the light through the skin. There was something different, just at the end of the instructions, a thin spot, just barely visible even with the light.

I smiled; then I laughed. “Thank you Athlain” The memory brought a tear. He had dipped the end of my braid in his ink well during school and used it to paint a picture. I hadn’t even noticed until we got outside and the wet hair brushed my arm.

I spent the next week learning a spell that would render his ink invisible. Then I went for a visit the night before a big assignment was due. He pulled out his work to turn it in the next day and it was just a blank piece of parchment.

Long story short, Mother fixed it, and now I just needed to remember the spell…

Words once hidden
Blind to sight
A drop of ink
A touch of light
Will show invisible
As black and white

I pulled my dagger from my boot and dipped the point of the blade into the ink and held it over the scroll, speaking the words as a single drop fell to the thin spot. It was like watching water flow through a gardener’s trench when the irrigation gate was opened. The last words of the scroll’s instructions appeared:

For one full night

Athlain had followed the instructions as they appeared, but I knew he had only allowed the potion to rest under the light of the moons for an hour or two at the most. In a warped, twisted way it made sense. If I’d become one of Hircine’s hounds, my night vision would have been no different than my day vision. Instead I had taken the potion to cure the lycanthropy and so now I couldn’t see at night at all.

“Hircine, this game of yours gets more demented by the hour.”

Somewhere I heard a howl that could have just as easily been laughter.

I picked up my dagger and catapulted it into the closed door, imagining as I did the blade sinking to the hilt in the chest of a daedric prince.

[McBadgere]

Brilliant stuff!!... ...

I love this story!!...

The whole feel of the place is so well conveyed...The characters are brilliant...

The whole thing about the scroll was brilliant. Realising that it was magically altered...Then using magic to read the scroll properly was brilliantly done...*Applauds*...

I'm definately a fan of the alternating viewpoints...It fleshes out the story brilliantly...I also love the way Thyna is all heart behind the sarcasm...So brilliant a character...

Love it!!...

Nice one!!!....

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

Athlain’s part:

At the moment, the smoke rising from the chimney of Thirsk was a sign of warmth and welcome. Brynjolfr’s hammer rang in the chill air, the echoes responding from across the lake.

I just love the feeling that this part evokes. Wonderful! I also enjoyed Athlain’s connection with Svenja, as she showed them the magnificent new hall. Athynae is still a mystery because she is complex, not because Athlain has trouble relating to people.

Athynae’s impulsive greeting to Brynjolfr was a treat. A lovely flash of warmth in a dark and distracted time for her. I also enjoyed Ax2’s machinations as they casually got the scroll and the gear from each other. Hmm.


And Athynae’s:

Ah, and now we get Athynae’s view of their welcome, just lovely!

I see that Athynae really wasn’t up to trickery when she got the scroll. Why would I imagine that she was? The whole process of realizing that there was a change and then discovering it in the scroll was beautifully paced and sinister, with a great memory in the middle. I love that part!

Permanent hair dye, yikes! I shudder to think of being stuck with my own choice at that age. Although it sounds like Athynae’s magical red suits her perfectly!

[mALX]

What a chilling end to this chapter! Absolutely Awesome Write !!! Urk! But cliffhanging !!!!

[Olen]

So some of the scroll was hidden. Interesting, I wonder who did that and why. I'd have thought Hircine woud have just destroyed it, or at least put it beyond use, but I can't think who else might have played with it. The real question is can she fix it though?

Great part. Good realism in the realisation coming while she slept, as the solutions to problems so often do. The memory introduced it well too. The build up with the magic not being quite right worked well to her eventually looking through the scroll. It also brought home another fact - she is quite alone in this. With the possible exception of Korst (who is a bit odd) she is the best mage they have access to - any who might be better are also probably living in caves and less than friendly. Along with Athlain being one of the more formidable fighters on the island they are very much alone.

I think they are starting to realise all these things. Both how powerful they are, and how lonely it is at the top. In part I suppose that realisation is what is driving them together as they have no one else to turn to.

[minque]

Ohhh.....So that was the problem! invisible ink! Brilliant.... .

And so they came to Svenja and the gang....Nice...Nords CAN be very welcoming and rather nice to visitors!

This part was very warm and almost cuddly..except from the last part when Miss Sarethi found out about the spell. I'm glad that she was such a good student and actually listened to her mother (for once)

BUT the main problem still exists...can she fix it? Being nightblind is really NOT a good thing if your name is Athynae Sarethi!

“Thyna?” Athlain’s voice came through the door “May I come in? Are you, um, decent?”

Priceless! I smiled when I read it..Athlain is such a GOOD boy! One that I would like as a son-in-law!

now then....this cliffie in the end....hmmm Nope I'm not in the position to crave rapid updates..no way....BUT I DO IT ANYWAY!

[treydog]

@McB- Thank you so much. Thirsk is one of those locales that just kind of takes on its own personality and becomes a character in itself. Svenja and Bryn will have much more to say before the story is finished…. Your reaction to the scroll is especially pleasing- we “made that bit up,” seeking to add complexity to Athynae’s situation. (As if she needed more complexity).

@Grits- My thanks- for all your kind words. I freely admit to watching how you have used the environment to add depth to Jerric’s Story- and trying to do the same here. Bryn is one of those characters who simply insisted on having a major role, and I was fortunate enough to listen. And another vote for the scroll alteration- and the memory of magic and mischief that it evoked! Thank you again. There will probably come a time when Athynae decides to forgo her “red flag”- but not yet- and perhaps not in this story….

@mALX- And due to life and hamster sabbaticals, we left Cliff hanging longer than was intended. Somewhat fixed now.

@Olen- You are quite right about the feeling of isolation- and it is something both of them will need to overcome. It is also reflected in Athlain apologizing for “forgetting” she was there during the most recent were-fight. He has been going it alone by necessity- she has tended to keep herself separate by choice. But now- they must work together if they hope to succeed. And since the scroll was an invention, it seemed important that she have to study it before the answer was revealed.

@minque- We wanted a feeling of homecoming for these parts- the idea that if they cannot return to Ald’ruhn yet, they still have a safe haven on Solstheim. As to solving the blindness- she is about to enlist some help…. But first, back to Athlain.

Where we are- Athynae and Athlain have returned to Thirsk, where he begins taking on the responsibilities of chieftain. Athynae has discovered that the scroll containing the instructions and ingredients for curing lycanthropy was altered- possibly by agents of Hircine- or was it Boethiah? And meanwhile, our usually honest Imperial soldier has surreptitiously scarpered with Athynae’s sword. Chances of resultant explosions appear to be excellent.

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With the door between us, I could let the worry I felt show upon my face. Had it just been imagination, or had Athynae’s eyes lost the spark I always saw before? I placed a hand quietly on the planks of the door, whispering an apology for failing her. I did not know how to cure the night blindness, but I did have other ideas to ensure her safety. And I had spoken true when I said I wanted to have Brynjolfr look over our arms and armor. What I had not said was what my exact plans were for her beloved katana.

Most of Athynae’s gear needed little in the way of repair. Both of us had been taught the responsibility that came with the tools of the warrior. But if I had asked to “borrow” just her sword, she would have refused. Even the thin pretext that I had “asked” was not likely to save me when she realized it was missing. Nevertheless, permission or not, this was something I would do for her. The fight with the werewolves had simply put the finishing touch on an idea that had been in my mind ever since Hircine’s plotting was revealed. If Athynae had to fight a Daedric prince, she would do so with a weapon suited to the task.

Brynjolfr was polishing a helmet when I entered the forge, and he smiled upon seeing my burden.

“Here naow, were ye plannin’ on droppin’ a’ tha’ and leavin’ me wi’ it? Be ye too busy ta help a puir ald smith?”

I answered his grin with one of my own, noticing that his accent seemed to thicken at will.

“What? You expect the Chieftain of Thirsk to turn his hands to manual labor? To be a common forge rat?”

We looked at one another and then burst out laughing at the same time. Recovering myself, I allowed, “The leather just needs to be cleaned and treated with a bit of oil, and I can manage that.”

I handed him Athynae’s sword and his eyes widened.

“And be the lass trussed up, er dosed wi’ a sleepin’ draught? Or will she be appearin’ on me doorstep wi’ bluid in ‘er eye?

I sidestepped the question, casting a quick glance toward the mead hall doors while mumbling, “She was… busy.”

Before he could press the issue, I handed him several pieces of Raven Rock ebony.

“Can you do something with that sword and this ebony and your skill?”

I touched the Gift where it hung at my side and added, “Something as fine as this?”

With a problem of weapon crafting before him, Bryn was fully engaged. He slid the katana from its sheath and tested the weight and balance, mumbling to himself:

“Aye- need ta be careful ta keep her light and quick… She pulls just a tad ta’ the tip. Nae surprise- gives a faster swing. Nordic silver fer the edge, I think.”

I waited patiently until his eyes lifted from the sword.

“I want it to be a masterpiece, Bryn. A sword fit for the one who will carry it. She will be going into worse danger than she has ever known and I want to be sure she survives. Will you do that for me?”

He nodded and spoke a single word- “Aye.”

With the real purpose of my visit under way, I asked about a sword she could use until the work was done.

“Weel, I dinna craft the like o’ this Akavir style, but I took summat in trade that might serve. I will just let ye be th’ one to gie it ta the lass, though.”

As the Nord smith began disassembling Athynae’s katana, I gave my attention to her armor. It was in good condition, mostly because she cared for it herself, but also because she tended to avoid being hit in combat. That thought gave rise to a memory, one of the few times she had injured me on purpose.

From the time she was gifted with her first set of leathers, Athynae wore them everywhere, relenting only to sleep or under dire threats from her mother. Her preference for light armor was well known throughout House Redoran, whose warrior tradition generally favored the medium or heavy styles. In any event, that reputation, along with a desire to ingratiate himself with the Arch Mistress, led to a serious error on the part of Sera Llervu, a noble of the House.

One day, when Athynae was 10 or so, a Bosmeri armorer from the mainland arrived at Sarethi Manor, presented his card to the retainer and asked to speak with Serene. In itself, this was odd- House Redoran had its own smiths and craftspeople, a standard practice for a warrior House. However, when Serene met with Belwin, that mystery was solved. He indicated his two assistants, plus the impedimentia of his craft, and explained,

“Sera Llervu wishes me to create a suit of armor for the young mistress. Might I see her so we can begin?”

Athynae was summoned and eyed the visitors with curiosity. As was usual in those days, we had been playing together, and I decided the summons included me since it did not specifically exclude me.

Aunt Serene looked at Athynae, attired as usual in her leather armor, and an odd look crossed her face. Nevertheless, she spoke in her characteristically precise and almost musical tone:

“These gentlemer are here to measure you for a new set of armor.”

Athynae was immediately suspicious. “Why?”

“Because Sera Llervu wishes to give you a gift in celebration of the Ending of the Blight.”

“I already have armor. Uncle Seth gave it to me.”

“Yes. But you also have more than one set of clothing. And it is ungracious to refuse a gift. Besides, Master Belwin has traveled a great distance to see you.”

Athynae was prepared to argue further, but Aunt Serene closed the discussion with:

“If you are going to insist on learning weapons and fighting, I am going to insist that you are protected to the greatest extent possible. If you do not want the armor, you can hand over your weapons, too.”

She raised an eyebrow with a look that said, “I am waiting.”

Therefore Athynae submitted to the measuring and muttered note-taking, albeit with her jaw set and a smoldering look in her eyes. Then Belwin packed everything up and left, promising to return in one week. It was the calm before the storm.

During the interim, Thyna had decided, without being told, that the “gift armor” would do for those occasions when she was told her “real” armor was not appropriate. She also planned to be ready with a response if she was told that armor was really not necessary-

“But it was a gift! It would be ungracious not to wear it.”

She was actually rather looking forward to the chance to win an argument- if not to the armor itself.

The day arrived and she made sure I was on hand. Master Belwin was a showman at heart, so he asked for the use of an anteroom in Sarethi Manor in order to set up a display stand. His request was granted, and we were finally ushered into the room and lined up to wait as he stood beside a shape draped in a piece of red cloth. With a low bow, he intoned,

“For you, Mistress Athynae, in honor of your warrior’s heart and in celebration of the Ending of the Blight. Wear it in good health.”

And then, he removed the drape.

We had been holding our breath in anticipation of the unveiling- and when the armor was revealed, the silence was suffocating. It was a beautiful example of the art, in cream and gold, with Redoran red trim. It was altogether lovely- and it was chitin.

I tore my gaze away from the armor to look sidelong at Athynae. She had gone pale, except for two spots of deep color high on her cheeks. Aunt Serene, as adept at reading the signs as I, moved quickly.

“Wonderful! If everyone else will just step into the reception room for a moment,” a quick hand caught Athynae before she could escape. Serene continued, never losing her smile- or her grip on her daughter: “Kausha, attend us, please.”

Holding the silently fuming Athynae, Serene urged the rest of us from the room and firmly closed the door. Belwin had misread the situation completely, and turned to Uncle Athyn:

“Did you see? She was so overcome with joy that she was speechless.”

Athyn diplomatically said, “Yes. She was certainly… overcome.”

As muffled shouts began to sound from the anteroom, Athyn ushered us down the hall and poured wine for the adults and juice for me. He then launched into a long- and vigorous- story about an ancient battle near the Ghost Gate. Eventually, after consulting some internal clock, he wrapped up the tale and cocked an ear toward the door from which silence now reigned. A moment later, Aunt Serene slipped out, pushing a stray wisp of hair from her face and again showing that practiced smile.

“Please everyone, come and see.”

The movement toward the anteroom was decidedly lethargic, at least among those who knew Athynae well. We were only too happy to allow Sera Llervu and Master Belwin to go first. When no explosions occurred, we crowded through the door.

The armor was now upon Athynae, all except the helmet, which Kausha cradled in the crook of one arm, standing close behind her young charge, mouth set in a tight line. As for Thyna, she stood as stiffly as the armorer’s dummy had done. Only her eyes were alive, spitting sparks that should have set the wall hangings alight.

Serene thanked Sera Llervu and invited him to meet with her in her office. They departed, along with the craftsman and his assistant. Uncle Athyn gave me a look that said, “You are on your own,” and retreated to his study.

Athynae was seething, so much so that she resembled a mudcrab being steamed inside its own shell. When her parents and their guests were gone, she hissed:

“Get me out of this… this… BUG armor… NOW!”

It was then that I made a tactical mistake. Her appearance, along with her words, and the sound she was making, sent me into spasms of laughter. I recovered just enough to ask her:

“What? Don’t you like being a scrib?”

Everything after that is a blur. I heard later that Kausha had to paralyze Athynae to get her off of me and that Serene had to heal me before I was sent home. From that day forward, “scrib” was one word I never spoke in Thyna’s hearing in any context, not even if one was crawling up her leg. As for the armor, it was never seen again.

[McBadgere]

LMAO!!... ...

Oh I loved that...Both parts....Fantastic...

Forging, wepons...Blacksmiths...Mmmm...Not in a big sweaty burly men type of way...Not for me, personally...Just, the art of it...*Robert wishes he was that cool*...

And then the Thyna bit, just class that was...Had me laughing from the start, and then it just got funnier...Brilliant stuff...

Loved it I tell ya!!....

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[mALX]

Brynjolfr - I saw this and in my mind was thinking of Brynjolf in Skyrim for some reason, lol.

OMG, isn't that the blade from Uncle Seth? ...and Athlain is altering it without her knowledge? URK !!!

Now what is Athlain going to get himself into with her armor? URK !! I see sparks flying coming! Great Write !!

[Black Hand]

I am so sorry I have not commented Ser Trey and Sera Athynae!! Just fumbling around with getting used to the new, slower pace of things....though that hardly excuses my thoughtlessness.

S:"You watch well over her. You are becoming a man worthy of doing so. In time, this Shadow can fade away to your Light. Don't worry about the sword, if she deigns to tell you the story, you'll know that making it better at it's purpose merely honors its being."

[minque]

OMG! That girl! She IS one of a kind!

Now what exactly is the plan with the Katana? Isn't it a very nice weapon as it is? I wonder why Athlain will alter it....AND what Miss Iron-lady will say when she discover it....or will she NOT discover it? Unlikely IMO. That is gonna be soo interesting to see how THAT comes out. maybe Athlain has to watch his back?

And about that chitin armor! Still giggling after reading that part. I wonder what's wrong with chitin? really! This makes you wonder who Thyna resembles.....I mean Athyn Sarethi is calmness personified....and Serene..well there's some weirdness about her, right? How do I know? well...


SS: Still lurking in the shadows, are you, Sethyas? I wonder...

[Olen]

Chances of an explosion are certainly very high now, but I rather get the feeling Athlain doesn't care and just wants Athynae to have the best weapon possible. I also suspect that after the explosion Athynae will be rather pleased with it, though the explosion will be nessecary for show of course.

As ever the flashback was a joy to read. Apparently Athynae doesn't like chitin... oh well, I doubt it would have been as good as Seth's leather anyway and far showier.

I wonder if he'll get clouted this time, that he remembers that rather suggests he expects to be. Perhaps he will be wrong and she will have matured a bit, or perhaps he'll do his usual stand and ignore while muttering 'yes dear' - they're almost like a married couple already.

[Grits]

With the real purpose of my visit under way, I asked about a sword she could use until the work was done.

Yikes, maybe he should bring her a wooden one in case she decides to use it on him. If he could only hide until the work is finished, and then present her with the finished product along with his crime of absconding with it! I hope that she will see his intentions and react with a woman’s grace instead of a girl’s tantrum, but it’s her katana! He may find some more religion before this is over!!

The whole chitin incident was priceless, and a lovely glimpse into early home life on the highest tier. Serene’s smooth control and Uncle Athyn’s parting glance to Athlain brought them alive through Athlain’s eyes. I am in awe of that!

The movement toward the anteroom was decidedly lethargic, at least among those who knew Athynae well.

Perfect! I love it.

[treydog]

@McBadgere- Smithing is something that has always fascinated me as well- I have watched a skilled iron-worker form perfect vines and leaves, complete with veins. And I admit having a chance to do an “Athynae memory” from Athlain’s point-of-view was also a treat.

@mALX- Yes, Bethsoft seems to have “recycled” some Nord names. Of course- at least they got the gender correct- unlike Rigmor from then Skaal village (thank you again, minque).

And- yes. That is THE sword. The specific history of it will be shown soon. Athlain may be showing more determination than common sense on this one.

@Black Hand- No apologies necessary. Exigencies of life and work are well-understood.

Athlain hopes Seth’s endorsement will ease the sting of the beating he expects to take. And he has decided that honor and duty require him to watch over Athynae, whether she wants him to or not. There is another word that has been coming to his mind of late, as well.

@minque- We continue to keep in mind that Athynae is the daughter of Serene- and what that means for her personality and values. And it is a very special blade as it is- yes. The discovery will be soon- but not yet. And we will see that Athlain has suddenly found “pressing business”- elsewhere.

The chitin armor and the “scrib” name go back a ways in what passes for my “planning” of the story. The chitin armor has a multitude of “problems,” at least in Athynae’s view. First- it is white. How can she hide in shadows in white armor? Second- it is stiff. How can she move with fluid grace? Then there is the whole- “made from exoskeletons” thing. And finally- and most important- Seth gave her leather armor as her first set. Nothing else will ever measure up.

@Olen- Your predictive powers are as good as ever. And you also correctly identify the biggest problems with the chitin. The funniest thing about the “yes dear” is that everyone around them recognizes the behavior- and they do not.

@Grits- You so perfectly capture all of the thoughts that are racing through his mind. And a wooden sword may be the safest choice- although I think she could maim him with a toothpick at this point. The memory piece was fun to write, and let me give additional screen-time to some wonderful characters.

Where we are- Athynae has discovered that the scroll for curing lycanthropy was altered, almost certainly explaining her night-blindness. She is considering what to do about that, and also recovering from the ordeal of being infected and then cured. Athlain has meantime decided that her “perfect” katana is not good enough for what they will face, and has enlisted Brynjolfr to improve it. But for now, she is unaware of the extent of his plans and intends to rest and recover.

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I knew there was little I could do about the night blindness at that point. But at least I knew what had caused it. Figuring out how to fix it would require a library, a laboratory and the aid of Mother, or perhaps Rahvin. I didn’t get the feeling it would get any worse- it boiled down the fact that as a werewolf I could have seen perfectly in darkness and the words that were erased had ensured that I now was totally blind at night. Somehow I figured it was punishment from Hircine for my refusal of his “gift”. Well, if this was to be a game of swapping, then I had to plan and prepare my ‘gift’ for him and also the punishment for his refusal it.

I needed to be in the right frame of mind to begin my preparations; the first order of business was rest and making sure the healing was complete, or as complete as it could be at this point. I was resolved and so my mind was at a place that offered me enough peace that I could sleep, I hoped. I prepared for bed, donning the nightgown that was in the trunk of clothing that I had here. Thank goodness, the comfort of an actual gown; that was a necessary enhancement to the sleep process. And to that we would add the deep, fluffy comfort of a fine feather bed with a dozen pillows and blankets of soft fur and sheets of cotton; nothing could be better than this. I climbed in and ensconced myself in the softness and was transported from here to there, dreamland, good dreams, happy dreams, unhaunted by beasts or daedric princes, dank wet caves or fear.

A light knock roused me and a small quiet voice called through the door, “Miss Sarethi, I have your tea and a bit of food.” I must have growled or made some other frightful noise because, without opening the door, the unfamiliar voice said, “I’ll just leave it here and you can get it at your leisure.” And quick feet retreated down the corridor. The aroma of the tea wafted through the door, drawing me from beneath the covers. I stumbled sleepy eyed to the door, retrieved the tray and returned to the bed sitting it in my lap. The tray was laden with a cup of steeping tea, a pot inside which was more of the same, a bowl of stewed fruit, a piece of bread and a note.

Athynae please rest today and take it easy, I have business to attend to that unfortunately cannot wait. You need the recuperation time anyway. The fruit is a concoction that Svenja has prepared for me several times. It is infused with healing herbs and is also quite tasty. Should you have need of anything, all you need do is ask. I am not going far and it won’t take long nor is it anything that should cause you concern! Rest and relax, for just this one day. Ever yours, Athlain

Well aren’t you carrying the mantle of Chieftain well?

Any other time I would have probably been furious, but today I wasn’t. He was right; I did need time to heal and rest, and one day should be enough, I hoped. I drank the tea, all of it, and he was right, the cooked fruit with the infusion was very good. Not only that, but I could feel the healing qualities in it almost like a potion. Now all I needed was a true bath, in a tub, with hot water and scented soap, a good long soak. Surely Svenja has done any necessary repairs to the bathing room….

I pulled a robe and clean undergarments from the trunk and slipped out the door and down the back stairs that led straight to the bathing room. It was dark and quiet but I could hear the commotion from the kitchen as well as some of the current residents sparring behind the mead hall. I reached and turned up the lamp; nothing had changed here either. I went to the heating cauldron and to my surprise it was full of hot water already. I only briefly considered that someone else was preparing a bath because Svenja popped her head in just to say:

“I drew it for you when Ahnya brought your tray. I knew you would be down shortly. You have the room to yourself as long as you desire and there is a bell by the tub should you need anything before you are done. I’ll just be in the kitchen.” And she was gone so fast I couldn’t even say thanks.

I released the steaming water into the tub, dropped my robe and climbed in. I let the heat of the water draw the tension from my muscles and the steam clear my head before I pulled out my lavender soap. Mother always said it was an oxymoron that someone that was as busy as I was liked lavender, as it was normally a calming scent. “And why is that backwards Mother? I need something to calm me down.”

“Yes dear, I know, but it works on everyone else.” And she would smile. When I first discovered that I liked the scent, I used it for my bath and afterward she had come into my room putting on an air of anger and demanded to know where I had gotten the defective scents, that I had been defrauded with artificial lavender and she would have the merchant’s head. I thought it was quite humorous then and it still made me smile to remember it now.

There were not many people that knew that side of my mother, not many at all, but the ones that did knew where I had gotten that dry humor and commented that I was just like her. I would fake horror at being compared to her, but I was glad always that I had more than just her blood running through me; I had visible attributes as well.

I completed my bath and dried with a towel before putting my robe back on to return to my room. I might not be able to glean more from studying the scroll or to fix the night blindness myself, but I knew what to do to hasten the process. Thinking about Mother had made me think about everyone else and the person that could work on it for me that I trusted not only to find an answer if there was one, but also to do it without worrying Mother. I knew that if there was an answer, Mother could find a cure and Rahvin could create a potion OR untaint the magic that caused the problem.

Quill in hand, I sat at the desk and pulled a piece of parchment from the drawer. I penned the note in a script and language that Rah and I had found in an obscure book. It was the language of an ancient, now extinct, race of people and we had spent almost a year not only learning the language, but how to write it. It wasn’t ‘our’ creation but it might as well have been because the only book that had any information was now hidden in my room at Sarethi Manor as insurance that he and I could communicate without fear of discovery. I had not played the game in years, had even thought of it as childish, now I was glad I had the alternative.

Rah, I do hope it doesn’t take your wee brain long to figure this out, I have a bit of a problem and I need you to work on it for me without talking to Mother. She doesn’t need the added stress that I so easily bring to her. First, I AM OK! Now, I was bitten by a lycanthrope, Athlain found a scroll with a recipe for the cure, mixed it and I took it. The lycanthropy was cured but now I am having issues seeing well at night. I studied the scroll and found that the final instruction had been erased via magic so instead of allowing the potion to rest under the moons for one full night he only left it rest for a couple of hours.

I can’t send the scroll but I will make as close a rendition as I can for you. The material it is written on is some sort of skin instead of parchment and the color of the magic as well as the style of the script leads me to believe it is Breton but the color of the magic surrounding the erasure is something else altogether and I could not decipher it.

Do not drive yourself crazy working on it, just study so when I get home we will be that far ahead. I have a couple of lessons to teach before I return but hopefully it won’t take too terribly long. I know I don’t have to say this but please do not share this with anyone, as that only increases the possibility that Mother will find out. Seal it.

Naynay

Satisfied, I copied the scroll and clipped a piece of it to include with the missive in case that mattered. I folded it and sealed it with just a touch of wax, not using my personal seal in case it wasn’t put directly in his hands. When it involved ‘hiding’ something from Mother no detail was too small to the point of even changing the manner I held my quill in order to alter the script of the address. I wasn’t trying to be devious really; I was trying to keep another burden from her shoulders. I still didn’t know what was going on, but even now I could feel the tension in her essence. With everything else that had been going on of late I had not allowed it to the front of my head, yet it was still there and until I could do something about it to help her it needed to stay where it was. Worrying about something I couldn’t change would not serve either of us any good purpose.

I looked toward the end of my bed and remembered vaguely Athlain coming in the night before and getting my gear to take to Bryn. It was nice being here; there were only three other people besides myself that I trusted with my weapons; Seth of course, as he had taught me about taking care of them; Rah, who I trusted almost as much as I did myself; and Brynjolfr. But I did not like the idea that even he had my katana. Since I had gotten it for my sixteenth birthday no one else, NO ONE, besides me had touched it. Bryn knew how I felt about that.

I pulled leather breeches from the trunk along with a simple blouse. It was odd being in regular clothing without the armor, and I pulled a cloak from the trunk, knowing that without the fur armor I would get chilled quickly on this frozen excuse for land.

He even took my boots!

I opened the armoire, hoping I had an extra pair of boots or at least warm shoes stuffed in there. I found a pair of fur clogs, great for warmth and leisurely walks but horrible for speed or maneuverability. I should be ok, I hoped, as I put them on.

I exited my room and went downstairs to the hall. There were a handful of workers and I assumed guards having a meal. As I walked past them to the door the whispers carried:

“Is that her?”

“Isn’t she the one that the chieftain went after?”

“She doesn’t look like a werewolf.”

That one, I couldn’t help it, caused me to throw a look in the speaker’s direction. “Pardon ma’am, just a bit of conversation, din’t mean nuthin by it.”

I should have growled and shown my teeth.

But then Svenja would have had to mop the floor and she would not have been pleased with me; maybe I could catch one of them outside. Just for fun I formulated a simple plan just in case the dimwit took a walk without his buddies. Sometimes it really did surprise me how stupid some people were.

I walked to a familiar outcropping of rock that overlooked Lake Fjalding and pulled out my journal, along with my quill and ink. The view from here was one of the most beautiful I had seen anywhere; it was less than fair that something so phenomenal could be situated in the middle of an island plagued by death and destruction. That thought brought me to a fresh page in my journal and I began to fill the empty space, recalling as much as I could about what had happened since taking the potion. It was an attempt to annotate everything on paper that I could so that I would have it when the time came to figure out whether the night blindness could be fixed or not. I wrote as much as I could remember from the time I took the potion until now; even if it seemed insignificant, I did not want to forget anything that might change this.

As I wrote all of that down the wave of sadness washed over me again as I thought about Uncle Seth. He was so close, seeing me even but not waiting. It was of no use to try to figure out the ‘why’ of it; I had no answers that even came close to making sense. All I knew was that it hurt, and on top of everything else that was the last thing I needed.

Damn you Uncle Seth! All the times you were there when I needed you and the time I need you the most, you see me and do not allow me to see you! What was it? You can dry a child’s tears, you can scold youthful antics but you can’t stay to aid me now that I am grown, now that the hurts take more than a finger to the forehead or a salve from your satchel?

If this was what betrayal felt like I never wanted to feel it again. I felt like something dull and rusty had been shoved into my chest and carved a hole big enough to put a fist in. I did not trust easily for some reason. I never had, so the ones I did were worthy of it, I thought.

Suddenly my thoughts went to Athlain. Trust? I did trust him; he had never failed me, ever. I had failed him plenty of times. I had beaten him bloody trying to teach him how to use a sword because I thought that was what he HAD to do to be a warrior because that’s what I did. I don’t know how he had any self esteem left after the way I cut him with words, rubbed his nose in his failures. But he did have that, self esteem I mean, and he had every reason to now. He had fought across every rock, cave, field and lake on this island, had even been named Chieftain of Thirsk, and still I could not break out of the old patterns. Why was it different now? What was different between us? It was the same sometimes and it was so awkward at others, like I had a mouth full of something but didn’t have the words to say it.

I looked up to the find the sun was dropping; it would still be a couple of hours before sunset, but I had spent the majority of the day in a world all my own. Just the peace and quiet seemed to have an effect on how I felt, even though some of the thoughts were less than happy, I had still had the time to examine them. I rose to return to the hall; I was a bit hungry and I wanted to see if Athlain had returned.

The hall was buzzing, as it was almost time for the evening meal. I wasn’t ready to face an entire hall of people just yet, especially after what had been said this morning on my way out. Were there more here that thought I was still a werewolf and were they worried because of what had happened? As I passed through the hall to the stairs, the tables were filled with faces I did not know, so many young faces. I smiled at the prospect that this place was as resilient as that And I had no doubt that Svenja’s love of Thirsk was more than half of the reason.

She caught my eye from across the room and gestured to a seat at the first table. I didn’t see Athlain, but it didn’t matter. I shook my head all the same and looked up the stairs. She nodded and caught a young server girl and whispered something to her, sending her toward the kitchen as I retreated back to the solace of my room. The girl arrived with a tray at the same time that I reached the door; she had come up the back stairs. If I had to guess, the tray was waiting; she had just picked it up and ran to get it to me.

“Miss Sarethi? The Chieftain’s second sent me with your meal. Can I get you anything else? Do you want me to heat water for a bath? Can I take your…” I held up my hand to stop the onslaught of questions.

“No, thank you, I do not need anything else. Thank you for the tray. What is your name? You weren’t here the last time I was in Thirsk.”

“My name is Ahnya. I came here when my parents were…” her eyes filled with tears and I felt my heart tighten; I knew what she was going to say, I could feel it. “…killed by the beasts. Svenja was a friend of my ma’s and she always said to come here if I anything happened. That Svenja would find me work and teach me how to take care of myself.”

“I am sorry about your parents Ahnya. I am Athynae, Thyna if you like, and I am pleased to meet you.” I grasped her upper arm with my hand and tried to relate through touch the empathy that my words might have missed. “Should you need someone closer to your age to talk to, I will be here for a couple of days.”

She stood still for a moment and then blurted, “What I want more than anything, Miss Athynae, is for you to teach me how to use a bow. I am not good with a sword, but everyone here talks about your skill with weapons and if I am to survive I need to hunt and to hunt I need to learn to use a bow better. Can you teach me, will you teach me?” By the time she finished, she was shaking, whether out of fear of asking or something else I wasn’t sure, but I did know this girl needed something to hold onto.

“Ahnya, I will not be here long, but I will have need to practice and I would be honored if you would accompany me. I do not know how much I can teach you in a handful of days, but I will show you what I can, is that fair enough?” I looked straight into her eyes wanting her to see my sincerity.

I thought she was going to drop the tray trying to keep from jumping up and down. You would have thought by her reaction that she was in the presence of a legend that had just agreed to share the biggest of secrets. “YES MA’AM!” I took the tray and reached for the door as I heard her retreating down the stairs singing, “She said yes!! Yes she did she did she did, she said yes!”

I carried the tray to the small desk, noticing that the armor stand was still empty. How long could it take to fix my armor? It had not taken any real damage. And what about my sword?

What in the name of all that was right had Athlain done with my katana? If he had damaged her, I would kill him and there would not be any pieces left!

[Olen]

Yay update! Not much action but plenty to chew on and hold interest. Not sure we have met Rahvin before (or I'm not remembering) but as ever she is as well connected as you would expect the heiress of Redoran to be, especially given her temprament.

I wonder what Athlian is doing? And what sort of explosion there will be over the katana...

[Athynae]

My apologies to everyone, I didn't think about Rahvin being a new character here since he appears in the "Princess" thread. Rahvin is Thyna's younger brother-4years her junior and Breanna is her younger sister. Rah and Bree for short...

[McBadgere]

See, I knew that...But that's 'cause I'm good... ...*Adjusts halo*...

...

Aaamywho...That's just some brilliant writing right there that is...Love it...Absolutely love it...

The bed, the bath, the breakfast and the trip outside...Brilliance!...

Loved the whole thing...

I should have growled and shown my teeth.

That made me laugh... ...

There was just so much to be loved in this chapter... ...

Nice one...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

I must have growled or made some other frightful noise because, without opening the door, the unfamiliar voice said, “I’ll just leave it here and you can get it at your leisure.”

How fun to see the morning terror from Athynae’s perspective!

I enjoyed Athynae’s thoughts as she spent her day recuperating. With trust and betrayal on her mind, I sure hope Athlain has a solid plan for her katana. Ahnya’s admiration and desire to learn archery can only distract her for so long!!

[minque]

Ohhh! Athynae is JUST like her Mom...likes a good bath! awesome....hehehe. Now asking Rahvin for help is an interesting approach! The boy is more than enough intelligent to probably fix it for her...and he has access to another mage...hrmmm..oops nope that wasn't allowed..ok. Now he'll figure it out! Ahnya is a new experience...very good Athynae needs more female friends so she wont develop entirely to an amazon queen!

What still worries me is that Athlain is tampering with her katana! Serene never let hers out of sight..and I think Athynae will be...well extremely angry when she finds out...no matter it's for a good cause..I'm not sure Athynae will see it that way

So what happens next?