They don't know yet...but you can bet Thyna will find out...just so you all know though, it isn't Athlain's fault....

That sounds reassuring!

SS: Thyna, do you need my help in any way?

Very intense. Athynae seems to be having a bit of a revelation after having her mask of security shaken a bit.


This introduced what came next brilliantly, a real insight into her. Indeed it seems to have taken the recent stresses for her internal monologue to accept that she has weaknesses. I look forward to seeing this develop.

*

Athynae did better than me, I may have choked Athlain for kicking out the fire. Humans can't see in the dark, so why blind yourself right before a fight with creatures that can see in the dark? Not to mention shutting off the ability of drawing them into the flames for some extra damage, lol.

The whole ending paragraphs starting with the one that begins "I loved my family so very much" are as awesome as it gets, some real depth to Athynae ... and especially finally giving Athlain that moment of thanks, the head on his shoulder and the "I'm sorry."

That last section feels like a beginning, a closing of childhood and the beginning of their lives as the adults they have become. Totally Awesome Write !!!

*

The last four paragraphs were my favorite of Athynae�s thoughts so far. Just beautiful. Her new found humility and respect for Athlain give me hope for a relationship that can really develop, beyond their childhood ties and their current attraction. She was certainly very spirited and talented before, but now there is a depth to her character that I find very appealing. Wonderful!!

@McB- Thanks for the compliments, I am so glad you are here and enjoying this. And I really hope you enjoy the trip from here.

@mALX- Well, yea, kicking out the fire probably wasn�t the best thing but instinct often leads us to do things that aren�t necessarily the right thing to do, with anything or anyone else it would have evened the odds.
The growing up part is a definite yes but we will see her take three steps forward and two steps back for a while, she is making progress but sudden epiphanies don�t change a lifetime of learned behavior all at once.
Thank you for the compliments, the part that you pointed out, the last paragraphs of reflection into who she sees herself as was hard to write not because it�s a story but because for her it was true and painful to realize the truth of it.

@Grits- Thank you so much, as I told mALX, the part you pointed out was hard stuff. But yes, they are both maturing but Athlain has a slight advantage here. He�s done the �growing up� that survival required and now is maturing in other ways�Thyna is doing all of that maturing at once so it�s a bit overwhelming just now�.
I am so happy you are reading.

@Olen- Your comments are always an incredible experience, your perspective and insight is something I wait for.

I think for each of us at some point or another have to face a weakness that we would prefer we didn�t have. In Thyna�s case she never wanted ANY and did her best to keep everyone from seeing any piece of that. The realization that showing it isn�t a bad thing was like a dash of ice water in the face.

THANK YOU OLEN, so much for reading and sharing your thoughts, it is so appreciated.

OH, and you can cast a wake up spell if you like but although I haven�t commented on the thread yet I just finished reading what you have so far in Shades of an Ending, that�s some great writing�I guess since I�ve threatened treydog and the badger with the balding spell I could threaten you too if you don�t get us some more to read.

@minque- Seems that part was the favored of the post and I am glad it was as it shows where she is headed, however long it may take. I do love that you are here, so so much.

AS: Mother without you, your support and teaching, your love and guidance I would not have the tools I have to work with. Rest assured I will let you know if I need ANYTHING. Just now time is short and I have something I have to take care of first. Then, we will figure all of this out. I�m ok Mother, really, it�s just kind of frustrating.

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

Though we walked together the last miles to Thirsk, Athynae and I were separate, wrapped in our own thoughts. Hers were no longer a presence in my mind; they had disappeared with the healing of her lycanthropy. But I knew from her expression and her silence, whatever her thoughts, they were not pleasant. For myself, the healing was most prominent in my own consideration. Somehow, I had erred, muddled the mixture, allowed myself to be distracted when Azura�s power flowed through me.

Perhaps some of my former agnosticism had lingered even at that critical moment and hindered the ceremony. Perhaps �Thyna�s night blindness was a form of �justice�- insofar as I myself had been blind to Azura�s presence. But that made no sense- the goddess had told me that Athynae was her �vessel;� any punishment would have been visited upon me. Other than Serene, I did not know anyone with such dedication to the Goddess of Dusk and Dawn. The enormity of my guilt was only made worse by the fact that �Thyna had not questioned me- not berated me. In fact, as we sat by that tiny fire in the looming darkness, she had apologized to me. Though I had known her all my life, this girl- no- this woman was still a mystery to me.

The column of fire that still rose from Lake Fjalding was another mystery, one that put me in mind of the destruction that had befallen the mead hall. I had tried to tell Athynae about it, but, like me, she was largely a stranger to loss. Seeing so many empty places on the benches would be a hard blow, another in what seemed an endless series of waves that battered us. But that pain would keep for a time. 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.

Svenja must have been keeping watch, for she stepped out of the newly repaired doors to the hall before I could reach the latch. Her eyes lit with pleasure and with pride as she looked at Athynae and me. She inclined her head and spoke formally:

�I greet you, Chieftain of Thirsk. And your� companion, also.�

Athynae raised an eyebrow at that salutation, but her skepticism dissolved into a shout of delight as the smith rumbled from behind her:

�Aye lass. �Tis grand ta see ye once more. And to see ye hae been feedin� himself better, as well.�

The last words came out in a wheeze as Athynae threw herself against him and hugged him tight.

At last, Brynjolfr placed gentle hands on her shoulders and moved her back just a little.

�Naow lass. That be enow. Have a care lest himself feels the need ta call me ta duel.� He grinned at me over her head and added, �Oh, aye. He be known fer his bluidy-handed jealousy- challengin� e�en the Duke o�er ye.�

I felt myself flushing at the teasing, but his friendship also warmed me- and gave me a couple of ideas. The first would only be difficult- the second, nigh unto impossible. But I must try all the same.

Svenja cleared her throat and said firmly, �This is a mead hall, meaning we have walls and a roof to shelter us from the cold. Not everyone is so furry or,� and here she cast a sidelong glance at the smith, �so fat, that the chill does not bother them.�

I had spent enough time with my mother, an artist with paint and with plants, to recognize the motive behind Svenja�s prompting. Rebuilding Thirsk had been dear to her heart, and she wanted us to see what she had accomplished. Upon entering the mead hall, I saw that she had every reason to be proud. The formerly smoky interior still displayed the intricate �rope� carvings of Nordic architecture and the traditional central fire pit. But thoughtfully placed lanterns and windows just under the eaves gave it a feeling of open space. The support columns had been worked so that they looked like the trees from which they were made. The overall effect was of entering a sunlit clearing in a forest, complete with tables and benches. Better still, a number of Skaal were making use of the hall. Svenja indicated them with a gesture that reflected the pleasure glowing in her eyes.

�Already, hunters from Solstheim and even from Skyrim come to visit. Soon the rafters will shake with voices lifted in song and the walls will bear new trophies. And now, Athlain, Chieftain of Thirsk, take your place and drink from the cup of returning.�

She started to lead me toward the head of the hall, but Athynae placed a hand on my arm.

�I can see you have things to discuss, but I am still a bit tired. I think I will go to my room now.�

She turned toward the steps and then added, almost as an afterthought, �Could I borrow the Glenmoril scroll from you? I would like to study it.�

I handed it to her without a word and allowed Svenja to lead me to what I still considered Skjoldr�s throne at the far end of the firepit. I would have balked at taking the seat, but her eyes pleaded with me. Stifling a sigh of resignation, I placed myself on the ornate chair as Svenja passed me a tankard of mead. I took a small sip and nodded, even as the liquid burned my throat. Then I stood once more.

�May all here be welcome to the hospitality of Thirsk. Drink, eat, raise your voices in story and song.�

I turned to the woman who had brought Thirsk back from tragedy and destruction and raised my cup in salute.

�Now, drink to the health and courage of Svenja Snow-Song, hunter of the Skaal.�

A cheer went up from the assembled hunters, and it was the first time I had ever seen that cool, composed woman without a ready response. Her cheeks flamed and a suspicious gleam of moisture filled her eyes. I took another careful sip from the tankard and set it down, my gaze falling upon one of the pedestals that flanked the throne. There lay the grisly evidence of my right to be chieftain, the heart of the Udyrfrykte.

I reached inside my tunic and brought out the pouch containing the tokens from the slain. Holding it high for all to see, I told of the fight with the beast and then said:

�I prevailed only because I carried the strength and courage of the Skaal, of your brothers and sisters, with me into that dark place.�

I placed the pouch reverently on the other pedestal, concluding, �Let this rest here always, as a reminder to me and to all who come after, that a chieftain�s greatest trophy is the character of those he leads.�

Once the festivities were well under way, I excused myself and climbed the steps to Athynae�s room. Recalling my error at the cabin, I knocked and waited for her reply before entering. She was seated at the small desk beneath the window, the Glenmoril scroll unrolled in front of her, the corners weighted with odds and ends. Guilt over her blindness burned in me once more, but I tried to keep my tone neutral as I asked:

�Have you found anything interesting?�

She glanced at me briefly and then turned back to her study, moving a candle closer.

�Not yet. The script is clearly a Breton form of Aldmeris.� she paused and then added, �I need to concentrate on this, so if you could give me some time?�

Her distraction actually suited my purpose, so I casually replied, �Of course. I was just going to have Brynjolfr look over my gear. I could take yours as well?�

She nodded absently and waved a hand at the bed, where she had dropped her armor and katana. The dagger, I knew, would remain in her boot. And I also knew it did not need the attention of the smith. Nor was the dagger my objective. Without another word, I gathered everything else and left, closing the door quietly behind me.

YAY!!...That was brilliant!!...

And again, am trying to slot reading a story from the start into my seemingly ever shrinking alotment of time... ...Just so great!!...

Loved the whole description of coming back to the village...And it seems to be populated by some very cool people!!...

An excellent episode...Looking forward to more, as ever... ...

Nice one!!..

*Applauds heartily*...

Good stuuf, as ever.

Interesting way you played with the mood of this part. We start with a mixture of concern for Athynae and guilt over his percived failings. It doesn't occur to him that she doesn't blame him for fouling the cure, indeed she's not even sure what the problem is but there is a tension between themin part becuase of it and in part because they have gotten closer than before and are both balking slightyl as they realise that they don't actually know each other that well (or at least as well as they thought).

Moving this into the loss and renewal of Thrisk was an interesting touch. They're both welcomed but that tension seems to stay. She doesn't stay to congratulate him, or at least join the festivities. Then they don't talk. Makes me wonder if there's a bit of a storm brewing there.


I wonder what alterior motive he has.


It might work in a while, for now I can offer a 10,000 word epic on a potential phase change in high pressure methane hydrate whic has been my labour of hate for the last week and a half... No takers? Really?

I'm coming back to read this - just ran out of free time for a while, lol.

Welcome to the Men's Club, lol.

Loved Athlain's speech...but I can't help but wonder what he was up to by the end of the chapter !!! Awesome Write !!!

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 !

@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.

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

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 na�ve 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.

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*...

Athlain�s part:

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!

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

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.

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!


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!

@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.

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*...

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 !!

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."

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...

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.

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.

@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.

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

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!

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...

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...

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...



That made me laugh... ...

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

Nice one...

*Applauds heartily*...

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!!

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?

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!

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!

@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.�

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



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...

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.

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*...

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 !!

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.

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!

@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.

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: 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!

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

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*...

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�

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!

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

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.

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 prot�g�- 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.

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:

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.

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...