Blood on the Moon, A Journey of Discovery Options

[mALX]

Oh, ARGH! Either Athlain will be in little pieces all over Thirsk or Athynae will have to bow down and let her man start taking care of her, lol.

I loved a lot in this chapter, but my favorite part was Athynae's inner plea to Uncle Seth. It fit perfectly with what I knew she'd be feeling right then. She's calling in her troops and no one is coming to her aid. Awesome Write!

[haute ecole rider]

Well, well, well.

Took me a while but I have finally caught up after a few months' absence from this beloved forum.

I have totally enjoyed updating myself on the A-squared show. The healing process is spot on, IMHO. I know from practice IRL that healing is sometimes as bad as, or worse than, the disease! And now the complication of night blindness! Ugh!

Wonder what Athlain is intending to do with that katana of Thyna's? I'd be concerned too, knowing how Julian is about her beloved blades - especially Touch, which used to belong to Valdemar, the Nord of Destri's fiction. She would kill anyone who dares to mess with it!

There is so much more to comment on, but I will keep this short for the time being as it is getting late for me!

[treydog]

@Olen- This next should make up for the “action quota” just a bit. Oh yes- Rahvin- the more science-oriented of the Sarethi clan. He can be found in Athynae’s own set of memories from her childhood. We keep delaying the explosion- I think it might be fear….

@McBadgere- I am always happy to let Athynae take center stage- because it relieves me of writing and posting… No, wait- that isn’t what I meant. The dimension she adds to the story is incalculable- and getting a different perspective can be lots of fun. Many thanks for reading and enjoying our words.

@Grits- The really funny part of Athynae’s morning attitude is that she considers herself a “morning person.” And that is probably true- provided there is no one else around. This was her first chance to really think about the events of the last few weeks- and to wonder about herself and those around her. Even if the lycanthropy is cured, the experience may have left seeds of doubt. We will see a bit more of Ahnya- and her presence may be what saves Athlain.

@minque- Although she may not wish to be seen as “girly,” Athynae recognizes the value of a bath when one is available. She would, of course, point out the benefits for sore muscles and etc. The truth is- she LIKES being pampered- as long as no one notices. We have written the confrontation over the katana probably a dozen times- and it keeps changing. Even we do not know how it will turn out- other than that the A and A team will somehow stay together.

@mALX- Somehow, I think “little pieces of Athlain” is the more likely result. She can always put him back together afterwards…. And you also catch one of the key passages, as she confronts the consequences of “isolation by choice” and wonders what is behind Seth’s absence.

@haute ecole rider- WOO HOO! You are back! When I think about healing in “game terms,” I still try to keep the laws of physics in mind. Even with magic, there is no “something for nothing.” And that includes a major healing- the energy has to come from SOMEWHERE. Welcome back- to you and to Julian.

Where we are- Athynae has been recovering from her bout with lycanthropy and learning that the cure was not complete. She has also found healing in a chance to mentor Ahnya, a Skaal girl orphaned by reavers. Athlain’s mysterious absence is explained in what follows.

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Svenja’s aversion to public praise was known to me, so I waited until she had a moment alone.

“You have done well. I think there are more Skaal here than during my first visit.” I avoided saying, “…before the Hall was attacked.” Svenja accepted my words calmly, her face serious.

“Aye. However, some of our increase has more to do with unrest and misfortune, rather than the attractions of Thirsk. ”

She waved a discreet hand at a serving girl who darted past, one of the unfamiliar faces I had observed, at least what I could see of it despite the downcast eyes and obscuring braids. Svenja’s eyes followed her and she continued in a low voice:

“Take Ahnya, for example. Her mother, Inge, was my far cousin. Inge’s husband, Torvar, was a hunter and a carver.”

She touched an ivory amulet that hung at her throat.

“Less than a week gone by, reavers came and killed them and burned the house.”

The clipped words were belied by the pain in her eyes. “Ahnya was out, gathering kollops. She saw the smoke and knew what it meant. She hid among the rocks and waited. After she found her parents, she came here, all the way from the eastern coast.”

The small figure hurried past us again, and this time, it was my eyes that followed. I asked Svenja, just to be sure:

“She came here… and asked for work? Not for help, not for charity- but for work?”

Svenja nodded, proud of her small cousin’s strength of character.

“Aye, that is just what she did.”

I considered for just a moment longer, then asked a couple of more questions, “And now that she is here, she is one of ‘my people,’ yes? My responsibility as chieftain?”

I answered Svenja’s silent nod with one of my own, then said, “Very well. I will require travel food for… three days. And directions to Ahnya’s former home.”

* * *

As I walked east, I wondered if I had been overly optimistic in my estimate of how long the search would take. Reavers were opportunistic raiders, using small boats to attack isolated homes along the coast or to venture far up the rivers. Then they disappeared back to the sea. The water would hold no tracks that I could follow- how could I even be sure of finding the ones responsible for murdering Ahnya’s family? It had been over a week, and they would have no reason to stay in the area. Perhaps they had even already returned to Skyrim or whatever pit had spawned them. But I could not just give up; it was not my nature. That became even more definite when I reached the ruins of the house. The place was not hard to find; Svenja had given precise directions, and the smell of burning still hung in the air. I looked at the blackened, collapsed timbers- all that remained of a family’s hopes and dreams. Near what had been the porch was a low cairn, made from stones of a size that a small girl might have lifted- a daughter’s final honor to her parents.

Tracks told me it had been a small band, no more than half a dozen raiders. And the drag mark on the shore indicated only a single boat had landed. That meant they would not have much room for supplies- and that they would only raid until they could not carry more loot. But now the question was- how to find them? I eyed Torvar’s boat with no great pleasure; pursuing a band of sea-wolves onto the water by myself, with my doubtful seamanship, seemed a good way to get filled with arrows- or drowned. But perhaps there was another way.

I had never been a hunter, but I had listened to many of their stories, especially since arriving at Thirsk. The words of one of the oldest Skaal came back to me-

The young hunter thinks he must go all over the land, seeking his quarry. The wise hunter uses his mind and saves his strength. He finds the place where the prey will go and he waits there. He lets them come to him.

If the reavers were doing as I suspected, working south along the coast, they would turn back before getting too close to the fort. They would pass this way once more on the return voyage. So all I had to do was wait- and find a way to encourage them to come to me. To do that, I would have to have- or appear to have- something they wanted. I glanced around the place that had once been a home. Besides the boat, there were a few horker hides still stretched on frames for curing. A plan took shape in my mind, and I carried the hides to the boat and dumped them in, along with my other gear. That done, I looked upon the tiny, fragile vessel doubtfully. I needed it if my ruse was to work- no one would believe I was a horker hunter without a boat. At the same time, I had no desire to go out on the sea in the unstable little shell.

Athynae would have seen it as a challenge and jumped in immediately, daring the boat and even the sea itself to defy her wishes. My sisters would have spent at least an hour arguing- about who should sit where, about how to use the paddle properly, about the correct “nautical” terms. And then they would have ended up in the water without benefit of the boat- or in the boat without benefit of the paddles. Thinking of them caused me to smile and to blink away unshed tears at the same time. It also gave me the inspiration for an unconventional solution of my own. No doubt I made a ridiculous sight, walking on the surface of the water, pulling the boat behind me by its tie-rope. But I did not mind looking foolish- if there had been anyone to see me.

Some distance north, a cluster of boulders around a flat bit of sand provided what I wanted- ground upon which the reavers could not come at me from too many directions at once, but that was clearly visible from the sea. The next step was to make myself look like prey. I made bundles of evergreen boughs and tied the few hides over them, so that they appeared to be the results of a successful hunt. More hides would mean more ivory. Even if the reavers were not enticed by the heavy skins, they would want the portable and valuable tusks. Next, I built a large fire- the sort a careless traveler might build. My armor and weapons I concealed with a long fur cloak. And then, the final touch, I scattered bottles all around my “camp” and settled in to wait.

With time to think came more doubts- what if the reavers carried bows? An arrow out off the darkness could spoil my plans. At night, I could avoid being a target by sleeping elsewhere, making up a decoy of piled blankets and furs near the fire and concealing myself in the rocks. What if they were already gone? What if…? In the end, it did not matter. They arrived late the next morning and came straight in, with no attempt at deception.

There were five of them, four who drove the long, low boat through the water; and the leader crouched in the bow. His face and arms were thickly tattooed, and as they drew closer, I recognized the workmanship of the ivory bits braided in his hair and beard. He jumped from his perch just before the boat grounded, brandishing an axe and grinning at me. My plan had worked; he wanted to play with me first. Now all I had to do was survive the game he had in mind.

To maintain his overconfidence, I crouched lower under the fur cloak, apparently cowering. In a muddled voice, I pleaded:

“Take what you want. I am just a poor hunter.”

“Poor, is it? By the size a’ those bundles, ye be doin’ right well.” He fingered the carvings tied in his hair. “And where there be hides, there be ivory. It disna have ta be fancy work like this. Tusks will do. And mayhap I’ll pull some of yer ain teeth, too.”

He gestured at his crew, turning his head slightly to see how they were enjoying his performance. That was the moment for which I had been waiting, when the others were half in and half out of the boat.

Anything can be a weapon. A pebble, a length of rope, a piece of crockery. You may not always have your favorite blade to hand- so use what you DO have. The real weapon is your mind. Why do you think professional fighters so often wear long capes or cloaks? It isn’t to look stylish. A piece of clothing like that is a defense… and a weapon. The movement draws and confuses the eye; it makes you look bigger than you are. Maybe they’ll stab the cloak instead of you. And if used properly, it can tangle a blade or be thrown in your enemy’s face to blind him. Fighting isn’t about nobility or ‘fair play.’ It’s about winning.”

Carbo’s words echoed in my mind as I sprang to my feet, flaring the fur cloak off my shoulders and over the Nord’s head. As he struggled beneath it, I jabbed the haft of my mace into his belly, doubling him over. Then I slammed the butt of it down on his head, leaving him sprawled at my feet. That was enough for the moment. There were still four more, getting themselves untangled from the boat and trying to decide what to do.

In what had clearly become routine, two had started to exit from each side of the boat. That was good for me- they had divided themselves so that I did not have to try and fight all of them at once. I immediately went for the pair on my right; that would keep my shield, as well as the boat, between myself and the other two. I ended my sprint by shield-bashing the first one back into the boat, where his head slammed hard against a wooden seat. At the same time, I swept a backhand blow of the Gift at the next one. It broke the elbow of the arm he was using to brace climb out and the spikes ripped a painful furrow across his chest.

When you are facing greater numbers, distract, disarm, disable, and disengage. Don’t get locked on to one and forget what the others are doing. Strike hard and fast and keep moving.

An axe thrown from the other side clanged off my shield, reminding me of those words. But at the same time, it meant the thrower had just disarmed himself for the moment. It was time to deal with the fourth.

Rather than risk tripping over the bodies and gear inside the boat, I muttered the words of a water-walking spell and ran around the stern, catching the swordsman from behind. His weapon was a short, double-edged blade, designed to stab as well as slash. It could have been a problem- if I had given him a chance. I didn’t, and his blood stained the vessel that had borne him to this fateful shore. The axe-thrower had readied another, and I drove in under his raised arm, blocking his blow and caving in his ribs. The one with the broken arm was awkwardly trying to grip a knife in his left hand and I told him:

“I will be quick- that is all the mercy I can spare.”

The “captain” was stirring under the fur when I turned to him and I kicked his axe away from his hand. Then I allowed him to rise drunkenly to his feet, his eyes taking in his dead crew and my uniform.

He grunted, “A’right then, tin soldier. Ye hae robbed me of my crew. An’ naow ye can try and drag me back ta yon fort ta be hanged. But I willna go easy.”

I shook my head. “I do not have time for Legion justice. Thinking that I do is your last mistake. Your first was to attack and murder a family on my island. The second was to leave one alive to tell the tale.”

“ ‘Yer island,’ is it? I didna think there was a Jarl of Solstheim.”

“No. But I am the Chieftain of Thirsk, and Ahnya Torvarsdottir came to me for shelter- and for justice. I will give you justice also, reaver. Your axe is there- you can die with it in your hand… or not. But die you shall.”

When it was all over, I piled the bodies in the boat, with all their gear, save for the ivory stolen from Torvar. Then I doused it with oil, shoved it out into the water and cast a flare spell at the derelict. As it drifted away, I spoke my eulogy:

“You came from the sea; let the waves take you. You came with fire; let the flames burn you. Begone from these shores.”

[Athynae]

Threats of the Balding Spell still work... and now that he has truly admitted why he has allowed me to write with him...

@McBadgere- I am always happy to let Athynae take center stage- because it relieves me of writing and posting…

I will be much quicker to pull out the spell, I might even come up with something a little more um, threatening? No, dangerous? No, hhmm explosive, YES!!! THAT'S IT!! EXPLOSIVE. I feel much better now. Excuse me while I go devise a nice explosive something, I have time you see because I am far ahead of the short legged pooch.

sniff, whimper my hindquarters trey, go sniff whimper to someone else...

[haute ecole rider]

The real weapon is your mind.

QFT!!

And so the new chieftain of Thirsk metes out swift and cruel justice, merciful only in its speed and lack of suffering on the part of the reavers.

Good use of the water walking spell there - that third reaver certainly wasn't expecting Athlain to come at him from around the stern!

Save the talking for the end. Good job.

[McBadgere]

OOoh...Spot of Chieftan revenge*Cough*justice... ...

Most excellent writing...Loved it muchly...

An excellent trap which the swiney reavers were rightfully smacked down in...Oh yes, well done that man!!... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[mALX]

This chapter was AWESOME !!!!! The avenging Chieftain of Thirsk - but the whole feel of it was of Scottish clans and the justice that abounds in the Highlands - LOVED this chapter !!! Awesome Write !!

[Olen]

No doubt I made a ridiculous sight, walking on the surface of the water, pulling the boat behind me by its tie-rope

Classic example of the whimsical humour I love in this piece. Loved it, also set up his using the water walking in the fight which, as Haute noted, was most clever.

There are a couple of interesting points to this section though. Both As choose to help Ahnya in their way but the difference of those ways says a lot about them. Athynae is to teach her to shoot, which is a precursor to violence, but not violence in itself. Athlian goes and kills the reavers. I'm interested to see how he goes once this is finished, he's much less whiny than his pa was and seems quite happy to go and deal death. Whether it's some fundamental difference, or forced by the rough lands of Solstheim or training by the Legion Athlain is a killer in a way Athynae (and Trey) are not.

Which leads to the next point. This was essentially an extra-judicial killing by the legion member. While certainly legal he was under no orders to do so and if they don't ask I rather doubt the legion will hear about it. He did this for Thirsk as it's chieftain. I wonder where this shift in allegiance will lead and whether it might produce any interesting problems.

Great stuff.

[Grits]

I considered for just a moment longer, then asked a couple of more questions, “And now that she is here, she is one of ‘my people,’ yes? My responsibility as chieftain?”

I like Athlain’s sense of responsibility and chiefly justice. He quietly did what needed to be done. Athlain as a water-walking tugboat was a delight, especially after he considered how his loved ones would deal with the situation.

He grunted, “A’right then, tin soldier. Ye hae robbed me of my crew. An’ naow ye can try and drag me back ta yon fort ta be hanged. But I willna go easy.”

He’s in for a surprise. The “captain” found out that Chieftain Athlain does not need to ask permission. It might be hard to go back to being second-guessed or given orders after this, even though the risk was great going out on his own.

A wonderful Athlain episode that shows how far he’s come!

[treydog]

@haute- My thanks. I try to be creative with the possibilities of combat within TES-verse… glad the result worked here. And again- so happy to have you and Julian back.

@McBadgere- The “trap” was one of those results of realizing there was a problem or two. The reavers were on the water- so no tracking- and while killing murderous scum is always to be applauded- how could he be sure of getting the RIGHT murderous scum?

@mALX- Thank you so much! He has definitely begun to absorb the code and values of the Skaal. And although he did not WANT to be chieftain- he will not duck his responsibilities.

@Olen- The contrast between characters is apt. While it could be argued that Athlain’s killing of the reavers was revenge- he honestly sees it as justice. And yes, it also gave us a chance to show the A-team’s different styles in “fixing something.” Typical male- Athlain fixes it FOR Ahnya; more female- Athynae teaches the girl how to solve problems for herself in the future. And you are also definitely on the right track about where Athlain’s loyalties are going.

@Grits- The phobias and quirks of the characters in various stories here have made them so much more alive and real. Therefore, I wanted to give Athlain some of those, as well. And giving him just a little awareness of himself was also fun.

As for the reavers, Athlain decided he had to deal with the problem- but that he had to do so quickly. A rather interesting interpretation of “justice delayed is justice denied.”

Where we are- Athynae and Athlain are at Thirsk, where they are both discovering that being “heroic” has certain unintended results. The most immediate of these is the mentoring (by Athynae) and avenging (by Athlain) of a Nord girl named Ahnya. The mentoring continues in this episode- guest-written by Athynae.

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The next morning started early. I had requested that Ahnya be allowed to accompany me to the targets. She had probably been up for a couple of hours already, assisting with the preparation of the morning meal, and Svenja had assured me that it would not cause a problem for me to take her for a few hours after sun up. I wanted to give her as much time as I could; she seemed to need this. Maybe it was about more than teaching her the bow; maybe it was about me being able to share something with someone else. Maybe those few hours would be enough to change her future, or give me something positive I could hold onto. I could always hope anyway.

“Ahnya, are you ready to go?” I walked into the kitchen to find her working at a long table, covered in flour and sweat.

“I just finished the bread dough. Svenja told me you had asked for me for a few hours?” She looked shocked, almost embarrassed.

“I do not have much time as I told you, but I want to give you as much as I can. Athlain has disappeared somewhere and insists that I rest some more, which means he is up to something. Our last time here caused enough, what’s the word, talk, so I will do my best to keep it from happening again. If you haven’t guessed, I can be a bit hotheaded.” I smiled at her, hoping that she would not ever see that side of me; for some reason it mattered. I wanted to be the person I saw in her face; I wanted to teach her and lift her up so she could see past the pain of losing her parents. “Do you have a bow?”

She dropped her head as she shook it back and forth. “No ma’am, my father had one that was beautiful, but it burned when the reavers destroyed our home.” While she was talking it felt like one of Bryn’s bench vises was squeezing my heart.

“Let’s go see Bryn. He’ll have something, I’m sure.” I tried to see myself from outside, dressed in my leathers with my bow and quiver slung over my shoulder. It was a strange sensation- I had never really considered how I appeared to others. Still, it felt right, doing what I was for this girl that I didn’t know.

“But Miss Sarethi, I don’t have any money. I work for my keep here.” Tears were ready to spill over from her eyes.

“I didn’t say a word about money. We will work out something, no worries. You can’t be a great hunter without the proper gear, now can you?” It was like looking at Bree, but not. This girl’s heart was shattered; she was looking for any reason she could find for being here.

Please Azura, don’t let me fail her; let the few moments I have make the difference she is searching for. I looked toward the sunrise as I thought the prayer toward the goddess. The colorful display of clouds and sunbeams told me she had heard and I hoped she would let it come to pass.

We departed Bryn’s forge with a fine starter bow and a quiver of arrows as well as an arm guard. He was looking for leathers that would either fit her or that he could alter to fit and a set of solid leather boots. Hunting in slippers just wouldn’t cut it.

When we had reached the open area behind the hall I looked at her seriously.

“OK, you have to listen to what I say. I am going to try to stuff as much information as I can into the time we have, got it?” She nodded. “Right. So the first lesson has nothing to do with shooting but everything to do with how to make sure you have something to shoot. You have to move silently. Put your foot down tip toe, from outside to in like this.” I demonstrated how to roll the foot from the outside to the ball. “When you are moving, don’t put your heel down, move on your toes only.” She tried and did fairly well for a first try. “Keep practicing. As you practice you will become more adept at moving more quickly.”

As I instructed her I heard a familiar voice in my head telling me the same thing back when I thought the world was still good and dreams came true.

“Miss Sarethi…”

“Athynae or Thyna or even Naynay, but Miss Sarethi is not necessary.”

“I couldn’t, that wouldn’t be right.” She stuttered the words out.

“We are friends now and I insist. If you keep calling me Miss Sarethi I will just go back to the hall and find something else to do.”

“Yes ma’am, I mean Miss Thyna, Thyna.” She was mortified and thrilled all at the same time. Why did she seem to think this was such a big deal?

“Now, have you ever shot a bow before?”

“I watched my Da, but I never did.”

“I will write some of this down for you when I get back to the hall, but listen closely. I am going to go through this really fast.”

“Yes, Mi…Thyna.”

“To string your bow you place the string in the lower notch here, put this part, the lower limb, in the arch of your left foot and, using your right leg as a block, pull the bow in to put the string loop over the top notch. Got it?” She nodded. “The parts of the bow,” and I pointed at each as I said them. “Top serving or notch is where the string connects to the top of the bow, upper limb is above the arrow rest, then the grip, then below the grip is the bottom limb and then the bottom serving notch is where the string connects to the bottom of the bow. That’s the body of the bow; the string goes from the top serving to the center serving to the lower serving. The center serving is this area here right in the middle and here, where the string is reinforced, is the nocking point.” Her attention had not wavered, but I knew she wouldn’t remember it all. That was ok, the parts didn’t really matter at this point; just knowing how to string it, hold it and load and shoot was important. But she still needed to learn them and I had no doubt she would.

I pulled my bow from my shoulder and nocked an arrow, firing at the target, quick and sure as I buried the arrow two hairs from dead center. “Now you. Point the bow down, the notch in the bolt amid the fletching is the nock so you lay the arrow just above you left hand on this shelf and situate the nock, cradling the string at the nocking point here.” As she went through the process I demonstrated with my own bow. “Now, once you are satisfied that the arrow is stable, hold the nock point between your index and middle finger like this and as you pull the string lift the bow and spin it simultaneously until it is perpendicular to the ground.”

“How far do I pull it back Thyna?” She was in an awkward stance, almost square toward the target.

“Hold there ok? I’m going to put my bow down.” I laid mine to the side and stepped behind her. ”First turn like this. It is much easier to get a bead on the target. Ok, now, as we pull the string back,” and I placed my fingers over hers, “there is a ‘breaking point’. That is where you are just past the strongest pull on the string so you pull to that point. Ready?” She nodded and we pulled. The bow was nice and tight but not so strong she couldn’t pull it to the break, good. “Now I am going to let go and let you take it from here.”

I stepped away from her and she, trembling and unsure, let the arrow fly. I was impressed. Her first arrow, with her whole body trembling, hit the target, I don’t need to say where, but it struck the target and that was good. I showed her different forms as well as different pulling styles. The one she seemed to like the most was a thumb pull. I had practiced that one until my thumbs bled just because I wanted to be able to do it properly, but I still preferred the two-finger pull.

I continued to instruct and demonstrate even as I tried to lighten her mood with jokes and teasing and stories about my childhood. Her laugh sounded like a musical instrument, out of tune at first but slowly becoming the producer of something altogether beautiful. The sun disappearing behind a cloud bank told me it was time to go. There was going to be snow and from the looks of the clouds, it wasn’t going to be a dusting.

Our walk back was full of conversation, questions about hunting and shooting and tournaments until finally she asked me why I was here. “Well, I came because my best friend in the whole world needed my help.” I smiled at her.

“Do you mean the Chieftain?” She cast her eyes to the ground.

“I do. You know, he deserves your respect and admiration, but you needn’t be timid or shy with him. He is still just a man and he puts on his boots one foot at time just like you. You can show reverence without diminishing yourself. Just because someone is situated in a higher station than you does not make them ‘better,’ it simply means they either earned their position with hard work, which you are more than capable of doing, or they got the luck of the draw, in which case typically they don’t deserve to even be there.” It was just a matter of fact, a discussion I had with all of the adults in my life at one point or another. A picture of Sera Ules, the Hlaalu representative that I’d almost called to challenge when I was twelve because he was stupid, came to mind.

Ahnya gave a small giggle and said, “The men say that you are a were…I mean you were…well, that you fought a werewolf.” She looked at me as if the entire thought was ludicrous, that she put as much stock in a story like that as she did in the stories about Bryn eating children. I was stunned, not really by the statement as much as my own speculation as to how I should respond. “Thyna? Are you ok?” Ahnya put her hand on my shoulder and her face was full of concern. I don’t know what she saw, but it made her feel something was wrong with me.

I strained a smile and took a breath as I looked out past her head to see something, a thought, a plan, words that would say what I needed without saying too much to this young girl. “I am well. And yes, I did fight a werewolf, more than one as a matter of fact. Ahnya, it is not a tale I have told as yet. I believe I am still dealing with it myself. But I also think that you deserve more of an explanation than just yes. You have lost everything and I want you to know that you can trust me. I cannot give you back what was taken, but with my last breath I will end this “Hunt” that Hircine has cursed this island with.” Her face had gone pale and she started to tremble. I didn’t know if it was because she was now afraid of me or was reacting to what I had said about her parents and Hircine. “I came to the island to help Athlain. I had horrible dreams about what had happened here, along with an overwhelming feeling that he was in trouble. Before I could find him I was attacked and bitten.”

“Are you…still..?” Ahnya’s eyes flew wide and she put some distance between us.

“No, Athlain found me in a cave, I’m not quite sure how, but he searched until he found a scroll with a cure. The lycanthropy was cured. Ahnya, had it not been, I would not be here to teach you.” Why was this so important, why did it matter suddenly that someone see and understand who I was? But it did matter; even if she was young, and even if I might never see her again after this. “I would not have left that cave had I not been cured.”

The understanding light rose through her face like sunrise at dawn. She didn’t know what to say or how to feel about what I had told her. I had gone beyond her understanding. “I am sorry, forgive me. I didn’t say that to confuse you or frighten you I just wanted you to know that for me life is sacred and the thought of being a creature that is driven by bloodlust, killing just to kill, was more than I could bear. And anyone or anything that lives in such a manner or tries to force someone else to do so is wrong.” The last was said as much to her as to the wind in hopes that it would carry.

“It’s just, I mean, I…,” she was searching for words that she had never spoken. “Svenja has been kind to me; she has allowed me to stay. When I showed up…I don’t even know how I found my way. The only reason I survived is because I was not there when the reavers came. I only showed up after. The house was ablaze but almost gone. Da was holding onto Mama just off the porch.” She was staring straight ahead; she wasn’t crying but only because she was separating herself from a pain that was too great to hold. She would survive this; the only other person I knew who had suffered such pain was Mother and this girl had the same determination.

“The day will come, Ahnya, when you will have to allow this in. It will help you to be strong.” The doubt on her face mixed with fear and pain “If you can survive this, you can survive anything. I admire your strength.” And I did. I had had such an easy life in the arms of people who cared for me- not just one or two either- people that loved me and cleared a path for me. This girl had lived in rustic conditions at best, and though I doubted she had ever been without what she needed, I felt sure sometimes those needs were met by less than desirable means. I had always had the foods I liked, the clothes-especially my leathers-I preferred. Well- mostly- a flash of pink chiffon flitted through my mind. I had been gifted with mentors and teachers. How could I have thought I was strong? How had I managed to believe I didn’t need anyone? Because I had always had someone, many someones.

“Thyna it is not strength; it is weakness because I wasn’t strong enough to join my parents.” Tears finally, just a few, ran down her cheeks. She wasn’t looking at me; she was staring out through the trees, searching the same as I had done.

I put my hands on her cheeks and turned her so I could look into her beautiful young face “IT IS strength; it is the will to survive when nothing is left. You must live so their lives were not in vain. That is what they would want, Ahnya, for you to live and make them proud of their daughter. They are with you in your heart.” I had heard Mother speak similar words to people who had lost loved ones and come to her for healing. Twice I had been with her when she was summoned to heal and by the time we arrived, they were gone. I had sat with her while she held the ones left behind, comforted them for a time and then reminded them of what was expected of them by the one now gone.

“I just feel so alone at night when I lie down. They aren’t there to tuck me in or sing to me or…” The tears were flowing freely and suddenly she looked so small. I pulled her a couple of steps to a large tree and drew her down with me and held her while she let the pain escape. Svenja was wise beyond her years, but affection for her was a hand on the shoulder. I would have liked for everyone to believe that was all I needed too, but it wasn’t. Being held like this was what had comforted my hurts as a child; even Uncle Seth, who I had seen avoid touching people, had cradled me in his arms more than once and let me cry it out.

I realized that the clouds alone were not causing the light to fade; we had been gone all day and soon I would not be able to see.

I asked Ahnya to follow me to my room when we arrived at the hall. I had something I wanted to give her. I felt that a small token might show her that my concern for her was not just superficial or patronizing, that I did care for her more deeply than I could put in words. I couldn’t explain it because I didn’t understand it myself. We reached my room and I dug into my trunk, all the way to the bottom. I wrapped my fingers around a small wooden box and drew it out. I opened the box and withdrew a small ring, and showed it to her.

“This is a thumb ring to protect your thumb when you pull the bowstring, much like the finger straps protect your fingers. However, thumb rings are made of much more solid stuff, and are fitted into a loop in the string to allow you to draw it.” And I smiled as I remembered the origin of the object I held. “This one Bryn helped me make once when I came here with Mother. At the time I was determined to learn how to use a thumb pull properly and I blistered my thumb quite thoroughly.” I laid the horker ivory and ebony thumb ring in her hand. “And now, it is yours.”

Her eyes grew huge and she stared at the ring as if it might evaporate from her hand. “But Miss Athynae- I mean, Thyna- this is yours and it is special. You made it with your own hands.”

I closed her fingers around it and held them closed with mine as I looked into her face and wondered what I would have done if I had faced the same horrors at her age. “And you are also special. And this will help to remind you of the most important lesson of all- the arrow does not know if it is being used for good or ill- to support light or darkness. But YOU do! It can always be either.” This girl had seen the aftermath of evil, the destruction it could cause but revenge, even as I longed for it myself, was bitter on my tongue. And I didn’t want her to make a bad choice.

This post has been edited by treydog: Jun 9 2012, 08:29 PM

[haute ecole rider]

What a delightful post this was! First SubRosa's post and now this! My day is now officially a great day!

I did catch one nit - a typo really:

Please Azura, don’t let me fail he;,

I think you meant to put an 'r' there, right?

I really enjoyed Thyna's mentoring of young Ahnya - it is helping the older as well as the younger deal with recent events. Telling Ahnya, however briefly, of her brush with lycanthropy is the first step in Thyna's recovery from the trauma (yes, she has PTSD). And for her to listen while Ahnya begins to face what happened to her is likewise as important to the younger. It is good to see the two of them begin their healing journeys together.

I will echo many others' sentiments: SGM!

[Black Hand]

Glad too see this back on track! SGM. Ill give more detailed response when im at a computer. on my phone right now.

[McBadgere]

Fantastic!!...

Heartfelt and informative...Brilliant stuff...

I didn't know all that stuff about the bow... ...

And I also loved the way Thyna looked after the girl...Wonderful stuff...

Loved it muchly...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

In this lovely and very informative chapter, it was Athynae’s realizations about herself that really sang to me. She may have achieved the distance she needed to see what she’s had all along.

Now, about that katana…

[minque]

And the plot continues! Avenging Athlain, Chieftain of Thirsk! yeah the young man is really growing into his role! Calm and secure he performs what has to be done.....but I'm still wondering about the katana! ohhh scary!

And Thyna....turns out to be a softie! Now THAT pleases me! That she can be compassionate and caring towards the small ones..Now i never doubted it but mostly she's the stronger one. Then again she IS Serene's daughter and all who know anything about Serene's history knows that softieness lies in the family.

Now another question arises....what role is Ahnya gonna play in this? I mean it can't just be a coincidence that she's turning up...just like that right? noooo knowing Serjo treydog and sera athynae....that can't be...

Exquisite brilliant and a damn good read this was!

[mALX]

I am loving the interaction between Athynae and Ahnya! Great Write !!!

[Lycanthropic-Legend]

Hello! I am a big, and I mean BIG Bloodmoon fan. This is about it, obviously. Is there a recap of this story or something I can read? It looks amazing.

[treydog]

So- yes. Back again after far too long. I somehow feel that explanations are owed and at the same time will be woefully inadequate. But the fact of the matter is, I see this place as meeting Robert Frost’s definition- “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”

But it is far more than that, for which I am profoundly grateful. The writing- the reading- the sharing- the community—all have been my salvation on more than one dark day. (And the dark days have been fewer and lighter thanks to the words I have found here.) So, enough of that. Who would like to see some new story?

@haute- It is wonderful to have you back. And I hope the health issues (and the new Mac) will mean much more Julian as well (hint hint). Typo found and fixed- our thanks. Ahnya was a gift- and her presence has become essential to the story. She is a person to whom Athynae can talk, who she can warn against making mistakes- even while pretending she is not also talking to herself.

@Black Hand- Simply knowing you are continuing to read is quite important. You have been on this journey from the beginning and have shaped significant parts of this most recent iteration with your characters and words.

@McBadgere- Many thanks to you. Ahnya was a chance to see a part of Athynae she hides from herself- and to recognize that she misses home and family too.

@Grits- You catch the key moment of the chapter- Athynae’s realization that she has been blessed in ways she never really grasped- until now. Credit to her for being able to see it and to grow.

@minque- There are some things which he has done which will cause him sleepless nights in future, including executing the reavers. At least I hope so. Athlain has “gone native” in more ways than his fellow Legionnaires or his family realize- there is a wildness in him that responds to Solstheim. Despite her protests about “mushy stuff,” Athynae is quite capable of compassion, so long as it is on terms she can rationalize. “Yes I helped Ahnya. So what? She needed to know how to use that bow before she hurt herself or someone else. It was just good sense to see she got proper teaching.”

More about the katana will be revealed- very soon.

@mALX- As noted above, Ahnya just… appeared and became a necessary part of the story.

@Lycanthropic-Legend- Welcome to this obsession- and to Chorrol as well! There is no summary- yet. But such might be a good idea at this point- perhaps just a cast of characters page. Hmmm.

@Everyone- Our thanks for your words, your reading, and your writing. In the following installment, Athynae and Athlain come face-to-face for the first time since he “borrowed” her katana- without asking.

------------------------------------------------------

There would be time to think about my actions later, perhaps to second-guess myself. I wondered what I was becoming, and if I would like the result. But then I touched the leather pouch that held the carved bits of ivory, Ahnya’s birthright- and I knew.

The words of the recall spell carried me to Thirsk, or at least to the secluded spot near the mead hall where I had set the locus. Brynjolfr should be far enough along with Athynae’s sword to allow me to do my part. The effort would be exhausting, but it was also necessary. Whether she wanted me to or not, I would do all that I could to ensure that the blade kept her alive. After taking a few deep breaths to get over the disorientation of the spell (and a discreet glance to see that all of me had made the transition), I went to a side door of the hall. There were two young women I needed to speak with- to put things right, if I could.

I do not think anyone who knew Athynae would blame me for wanting to speak with Ahnya first. Besides, if things went badly with the “Flame of the North,” it might be some time before I was able to say anything to anyone. So- Ahnya first. Which meant finding Svenja.

“Welcome, Athlain. I hope your journey was successful?”

“Yes it was. So much so in fact, that I have need of Ahnya, if she is not too busy.”

Svenja’s usual impassive expression cracked just a bit; I could not tell if it was laughter or dismay that she was suppressing.

“She is… without, my lord. Learning the fundamentals of archery from Mistress Athynae, as a matter of fact.”

She paused as if to see how I might react. Keeping my own voice neutral, I replied:

“Good then. Thirsk can always use more hunters. And I cannot imagine a better instructor for Ahnya.”

With that, I left by the side door once again. I did not expect my news to bring joy to Ahnya- nothing would make up for the loss she had suffered. Still, she would know her parents had been avenged and that she was neither destitute nor friendless. Athynae… it might be that making amends to her was impossible, but that did not release me from the obligation to try. And I would get my chance rather sooner than I had expected.

As I left the hall and was about to head toward the forge, Athynae rounded the corner from the opposite direction. When she saw me, she started to smile, but then her expression froze and her face became a wooden mask, save for the fire that burned in her eyes. I had to think quickly, to do something to head off the inevitable explosion. One thing that was in my favor was that Athynae usually attacked with words first. It was a habit Seth had tried to break- without success.

If you’re going to hit someone- HIT him. Don’t bore him to death first.

Her stubborn insistence on doing things her way usually caused me no end of trouble; this time I was grateful for it.

The trick was to divert her before the verbal onslaught began- otherwise you could just as well attempt to empty the Sea of Storms with a teaspoon. Careful not to overplay my hand, I spoke calmly and quietly:

“Athynae. Good. I was just coming to find you.”

Confusion is a potent weapon, as I could attest from personal- and frequent- experience. While she was trying to fit my words into the scenario she had constructed for this meeting, I moved on. Once you have the advantage- press it. Do not let up.

“Actually, I need to speak with Ahnya. Do you know where she is?”

Athynae’s face showed confusion, as I had hoped, but also suspicion.

“She is in the bath-house, preparing to go back to work. Some people have responsibilities and cannot just disappear whenever they feel like it.”

I let the sarcasm pass- it would not do to engage just now. “Well, if she can spare a few moments, I need to see her.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? So you can take away the bow I have just been teaching her to use?”

We were on dangerous ground there; I needed to turn the subject. “Actually, I have some things to give her. Could you ask her to meet me at the forge?” Almost as an afterthought, I went on, “In fact, if you come too, that would be good. Please?”

If it had not been my physical well being that hung by a thread, watching the parade of conflicting thoughts that crossed Athynae’s face would have been a treat. In the end, two things decided the issue in my favor- the fact that whatever I was doing involved Athynae’s new protégé- AND her own highly developed sense of curiosity. She absolutely hated secrets and surprises. Although I could no longer “hear” her thoughts, I could read them plainly- “First find out what he is up to. I can kill him AFTER.”

I would have found more humor in it if not for the knowledge that it was not an exaggeration. Touching one of Athynae’s blades without her permission was a good way to guarantee a beating- and I had done it twice now. I was reminded that there was yet a price to pay when she bowed mockingly and responded in a syrupy voice:

“Yes, my lord. Of course, my lord. Right away, my lord. If there will be nothing else, my lord?”
With that, she turned and stalked off, back the way she had come.

If I was fortunate, she and Ahnya would take their time- there was one last thing I needed to do before Athynae’s sword was ready. After that…. Well, after that, I would accept whatever happened, knowing I had done my best to keep her alive. As I approached the forge, I took the golden gem from inside my tunic. It weighed far more than its appearance suggested, and I reflected that it was simply proof that something good could come from inside a Daedric shrine.

Brynjolfr was as adept at reading expressions as he was at shaping steel; he did not treat me to any of his patented “puir ald smith” wisdom when I entered the door of his workshop. Instead, he silently reached under the counter and brought out a case made of dark wood with brass fittings. I had never seen it before and realized he must have been saving it for something special. Still without speaking, he placed the case on the counter and raised the lid. Within was a silk-wrapped bundle. I held my breath and nodded to him to go ahead. He lifted the bundle and loosened the drawstrings, letting the cloth slide away from what it held.

If I had allowed it, I would have lost myself in the black depths of the blade, the star-shaped silver rivets that held the grips to the handle, the perfection of the slight curve…. But I had work of my own to do, the final impossible touch necessary in my attempt to improve upon perfection. I went deep within myself, to a place my father had taught me to find when working on an especially difficult bit of alchemy.

Let go of everything except the task that is before you. There is nothing outside of your hands, your mind, your spirit, all in harmony, seeking the same goal. See in your mind’s eye what your hands must do; speak the words with the power of your spirit. There is no before- no after- only the moment. And the moment is perfect and complete.

As I relaxed into the calm within, I took the soul gem and placed it on the pommel of the sword. I envisioned the gold of the gem joining seamlessly with the hilt, speaking the words of the enchantment that would preserve the life of the one who wielded the blade. For long minutes I simply stood, my hands wrapped around soul gem and sword hilt, feeling the warmth of my body flowing through them, the desire of my heart carrying the spell down the length the blade. When it was done, the whole of the katana held a faint glow of magic and I fell rather than sat upon the bench.

Bryn took the katana from my nerveless hands and wrapped it once more in silk and enclosed the silk within the wooden case. And not a moment before time- I heard the sound of light footsteps just outside the door. Athynae was there.

This post has been edited by treydog: Aug 19 2012, 04:08 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Yummm - Teresa and Athlain on the same day! Oh joy!

I have read - no, devoured! - this installment, and it did not fail to delight. I have been waiting for this moment for much too long (hint, hint).

The usual dry Athlain humor is much in evidence in this paragraph:

I do not think anyone who knew Athynae would blame me for wanting to speak with Ahnya first. Besides, if things went badly with the “Flame of the North,” it might be some time before I was able to say anything to anyone. So- Ahnya first. Which meant finding Svenja.

What a wonderful and amusing reminder of the nature of their relationship and of the respect Athlain holds for Thyna's temper!

And the enchantment of Thyna's katana with the soul gem - how wonderful it was to read the descriptions. I'm looking forward to how Thyna reacts when she understands what Athlain has done!

Welcome back, my second favorite little dachshund (our family dog remains number one, sorry!)! Don't forget to come back here for hugs and wet doggy kisses when you're having a bad day.

[McBadgere]

YAY!!... ...Nice to see you matey!!...*Applauds*...

Firstly, Fast Travel as Spell!!...Brilliant!!!...That was a highlight...Amazing...

Loved the dialogue as ever...Made me laugh, espescially the idea of getting there first, before Athynae can launch into her tirade... ...

The sword!!...*Sigh*...Sounds beautiful...Brilliantly done there...

Amazing stuff...

Loved it!!....

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*..

I know it's been all stuff and things keeping you away...Maybe though, don't leave it so long next time?...Home is also the people that worry when you're away...