Hmm... master of combat? Could Syl possibly be considering joining Fight Club Rooftop Club? Perhaps Do you think she had to endure the usual new recruit's task of being weighed down with millions of clubs during their first fight?

That was not a very great end to what would have been a long lasting, and perhaps romantic, relationship. At the same time, however, I am glad you ended it, because the poor man in rags capturing the heart of the feisty rich girl is just too cliche to work nowadays (you can thank James Cameron for that). Doing that proves to me you know what you are doing here, and you know exactly what to avoid doing. In Oblivion terms: Your Penmanship skill increased.

Good luck in the Alchemy lessons, Syl.

Syl honing the skills that make her what she becomes later is hugely interesting, and you have done an Awesome job of presenting it !!! It seems her relationship with Muurine developed into a closer one as the years passed, and I noted that Syl knew some things about the woman that Muurine would have kept secret from her, lol. Awesome Write !!!

Thank the Madgod for necromancy and the Rooftop Club
Did Syl forget the first rule of Rooftop Club? Never talk about Rooftop Club!

“Elven children are slow to come, and most demanding of their welcome.”
I love this saying!

A nice episode, moving Syl ever toward her adulthood as she learns the skills she will need to one day become ruler of Dementia. The confrontation with Thadon was to be expected, as was Syl's reaction to it. I am also not surprised that Muurine would teach her to make lethal poisons before beneficial potions. That is indeed the nature of the Shivering Isles.

You are really in your unique and gifted style here that covers substantial amounts of time, yet is so delightfully interwoven with dynamic moments and powerful memories presented with crystal clarity. This was quite a joy to read as you continue to display the evolution of Syl.

At this stage in her life, Syl remains an endearing child, but is clearly showing hints of dangerousness and determination to survive in her world. I would not bet against her.

An intriguingly suggestive ending, with talk about the art of combat.

Thomas: Woot woot! +1 in Penmanship...I'll take it! (By the way, would you happen to know any trainers in penmanship I can go to, so I can just pay to have my skill increased faster? I'm feeling a little anxious, and would rather train than to actually have to work for it... )

mALX:Thanks! Yes, I really wanted to build a strong and endearing relationship between Syl and Muurine, to make it even more shocking what happens between them down the line... It just shows how Muurine's hatred for the Manics was stronger than her motherly love for Syl...

SubRosa:Ah, Syl's not too concerned with the rules of the Rooftop Club anymore... She hasn't been a true member in a long time....

“Elven children are slow to come, and most demanding of their welcome.”--Yes, me too! When I read that in The Real Barenziah, I had to use it here. It is now unofficially an official Elven proverb.

Acadian:Thank you. I have been very concerned about trying to evolve Syl gradually into her madness--for the most part she will resist it, because of the innate goodness in her--but over time, she sinks deeper into the madness that surrounds her. Of course, there will be some things down the road which will push her to have sort of a "growth spurt" of madness, shall we say?



Chapter 3.3—The Archer from Ashwood

My first inkling that I would enjoy combat came at a rather young age, but my father hesitated to allow me to study the art itself. This all changed one year, when Muurine’s nephew came to visit her from Ashwood. His name was Sindorin, and he was very tall and very handsome. He was a full twenty years older than I, but even as a small child I had a bit of a crush on him. Perhaps it was only what some would call ‘puppy love’ back then, but I was in love with him from the moment I first saw him.

He had beautiful, sun-tanned skin from spending most of his days hunting, as well as thick brown hair that fell in curls just past his shoulders. And who could forget his gorgeous blue eyes? I knew a beautiful man when I saw one, and I had decided, even before my mother had died, that I was going to marry him some day. But to Sindorin, I was only a child. He was fond of me, but it was more like what a brother might feel for his younger sister. Still, I enjoyed getting any kind of attention from him, and I relished it.

He greeted me warmly when he came with Muurine to the palace one day, a couple of months before my twelfth birthday. We had known each other for most of my life, so when I saw him, I didn’t even hesitate to run to him excitedly. He lifted me up in his arms and carried me upon his shoulder, cautioning me to be mindful of his bow and arrows. Sindorin was an accomplished archer and a fine warrior. He had promised since I was very young that someday he would teach me to use a bow, and it was on this visit that his promise came true.

With my father’s permission, Sindorin gave Muurine a much-needed break and took me out for the day to go riding in the countryside just outside the city. Two Seducers followed close behind, as always, but I was otherwise alone with my first love. I was praying that he would ask me to marry him that day, though that was obviously never going to happen.

As we rode, he complimented me, saying, “I see that your riding skills have improved since my last visit—you are becoming quite the accomplished equestrian already.”

I was simply tickled that he had noticed, but I tried to act more grown-up and casual about it, saying, “I know. Father has taught me very well, and riding is one of my passions.”

He smiled and brought his horse to a stop, as I did the same, then he climbed down and helped me dismount from my horse as well.

“This should be a decent spot,” he said, looking around the copse of trees that created a fine shooting range. “Are you ready to make archery your newest passion, Syl?”

I let out a sigh. He still spoke to me in that tone people often use when speaking to a child, and I resented it. But I tried to be grateful that he was going to teach me, after years of promises that had yet to come true.

“I’m ready,” I said, looking at him with eager eyes. Why couldn’t I just be a little older, so that he would notice me like he did all the beautiful ladies at court?

After setting up a target, he brought his bow to me, helping me to hold it correctly, and showing me the proper stance. Standing behind me, he moved my hands and my arms to where they needed to be, and then he helped me to mount the arrow. When I was at the ready, he told me to aim at the target and try to hit the bull’s eye in the center.

I don’t remember most of what he said, though, because I paid little attention to his words. Instead, I felt something almost instinctual take over from inside me, and I carefully analyzed the distance between the target and my bow. Knowing that the arrow needed to arch, I aimed slightly above the target before letting my arrow fly. I hit the bull’s eye on the very first shot. Sindorin was blown away, and at first he was speechless.

“Wow!” he said, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked at the arrow in the target. “Wow! Syl, that was amazing! Are you certain that you’ve never shot a bow and arrow before?”

I smiled with pride, and said, “I guess I’m a natural.”

“I guess,” he replied in agreement. He wiped his hand through his hair and took in a breath, then said, “They’ve always said that Bosmer make for the finest marksmen in the known world. I guess that proves true with you. Amazing! Try it again!”

He handed me another arrow, but this time it got to my head, and I shot too low. It hit the ground at the base of the tree, and I was embarrassed that I had missed so badly. But he handed me another arrow, saying, “It’s all right. Try it again.”

I shot the third arrow, and this time I got it straight on, hitting the first arrow and splitting it in two. Sindorin was left in awe.

“Whew. At this rate, you’ll be a better archer than I am by the time you’re grown! Won’t your father be proud! And Muurine—wait till they see you! They’ll be amazed!”

My smile returned, and I looked down at the bow in my hands. Though it was almost as big as I was, I managed to shoot that bow like a master. Even I was surprised. And Sindorin was right—my father and Muurine were left speechless when they saw my skill, though I didn’t do quite as well showing them as I had in the field that day.

However, I still was not allowed to start taking formal lessons for another year. I was hoping to have Sindorin as my instructor, but he had his own life to live down in Ashwood, and it was years before I would see him again. Every time I held a bow, though, I thought of him and smiled. Some day he was going to look at me the way he looked at Earana, and Celina, and Marie Petrand…. Some day, I told myself, Sindorin was going to love me the way I loved him.

So Syl has taken up the bow, and set her sights upon her archery mentor! Once more, it is refreshing to see Syl here, as a young girl totally smitten. Who cannot empathize with her hopes to somehow catch Sinderion's eye? Or feel her frustrations at being overlooked? I wonder if her feelings for Sinderion might be an important piece in her descent into her own personal darkness? As all things in the Shivering Isles, I am certain it cannot end well...


nits:
You use the names of many characters from the game, but so far none of them appear to be the same people. I suggest that if they are different individuals, you use new names for them. Else it becomes confusing. For example, when I saw the name Sinderion, the first image that jumped into my mind was of an old Altmer alchemist with a taste for Skingrad wines. I know coming up with new names can be difficult for some of us (especially myself), but what you might try is one of the name generators. Or perhaps pick names from one of the older games like Daggerfall, that people will not be familiar with. This is a good starting point, as from here you can find all the names used in all games. One of my tricks is to take part of one name, and combine it with part of another.

Hmm, yes. I see what you mean with Sinderion.... I really liked his name, but I came up with one that is similar but different--Sindorin. As far as I know, that's not in any of the games, but let me know if I am mistaken. (You do realize Muurine and Uncle Leo are the same ones, right? Uncle Leo just isn't dead yet, and I've imagined Muurine looking more like Anjelica Huston, though it's the same one.... I can't think of anyone else in the story so far whose name is taken directly from a character from the game, but if you do, please let me know, and I'll look into possibly tweaking the names slightly, so as not to cause such confusion.... Sorry about that. )

Edit: Okay, I just found Baenlin, too. Shoot. I forgot about him in Oblivion, when I named this character, and after making the connection, I just never thought about changing it... Of course, I could just say they are the same Baenlin, because Thadon's cousin does drop out of the story at some point... What do you think?

DOh!, I misspoke. I did realize that Muurine and Leo were the same ones in the game. Sorry about that.

Sindorin works. Making Baenlin the same one who gets horned in Bruma would be a nice twist. Likewise, it would be interesting if we saw some of the more colorful Tamriel characters like Glarthir, or the tomato lady, in visit the Isles as well.

WOO HOO !! Syl's first crush at age 12 !! Like SubRosa said, I remember that first crush at age 12 - and SubRosa is right, they never end well, in Shivering Isles or out, lol.

You have a knack for developing your characters in a subtle way, your Syl gains depth with each chapter !!! Awesome Write !!!

Another lovely episode as Syl continues to grow. Not to sound like a broken record, but you continue to do a wonderful job of demonstrating the passage of significant chunks of time while keeping a feel to your episodes that is both intimate and immediate. To do this without overusing historical summary is a talent that really shines here.

And another crush. Part of me wants to believe Syl's optimistic prediction, but between the age difference and being a Demented elf and life as it is, I am not optimistic.

Instead, I felt something almost instinctual take over from inside me, and I carefully analyzed the distance between the target and my bow.
I know what that is! We are witnessing the birth of a bowgirl! Woohoo!

SubRosa:I liked your Homer Simpson link!

And I will definitely make Baenlin the same one from Bruma. How and why he goes there will be a side story that I'll work into it much later in the story... The details of it will generally be the same as I already had for him leaving the story when he does, but I never really specified where he ended up, so it will be nice to stretch my wings a little in that direction... Of course, that's quite a way off...

mALX:Yes, I figured it was a good age to introduce both the crush and the bow--so why not place them hand-in-hand? Of course, since he's not in the game, we know it doesn't last, but...how does it end and in what way...?

Acadian:Thank you! I am thrilled to know that my writing style is agreeable, because one never knows for sure... Yes, it is not likely to end well, for many reasons. Of course, there will be many surprising twists before the end truly comes... (I love hinting at these things...Hopefully I am successfully making you all want more!)

And oh yes, she will have a love for the bow, much like both Buffy and Teresa. Afterall, she is naturally pre-disposed to marksman... Blunt weapons will only draw her away from it in the future because she wants to feel more powerful and kill quicker--understandable from her perspective, I suppose.


Chapter 4.1—The Elven Maiden

One of the teachings of the Demented is that pain and pleasure are very much one and the same. I never understood this teaching until I was about thirteen. While cutting into one of the ingredients for a potion Muurine had instructed me to make, my hand slipped and I cut into my wrist. It bled pretty badly, and I gasped and quickly reached for a cloth to stop the bleeding. But then, for some reason, I just stopped and stared at the blood as it ran down my arm. The rush I felt from the adrenaline pumping through my veins was intoxicating. Suddenly, I felt more alive, and it was both exhilarating and unexpected. When I began to feel lightheaded, only then did I heal myself and clean up the blood that had dripped to the floor at my feet.

After that, I began to cut myself whenever I wanted to feel that rush again. It was like a drug, and it made it easier to forget the loneliness and the emotional pain I held bottled up inside of me. The anguish was relieved, little by little, each time I dragged the sharp blade across my flesh, and I thanked the Madgod for revealing this to me.

Over the next few years, I grew from a somewhat awkward and lonely child, into a well-grounded and elegant young woman. With my dark brown hair and my pensive, yet wild, blue eyes, I was certainly noticed by the men who were constantly around me. A lot of men, both young and old, were attracted to me, and I enjoyed the attention quite thoroughly.

Whenever my father had me show off my combat skills to the members of his court, I always drew in quite a crowd. Dressed in the unique ebony and silver armor of the Dark Seducers that my father had commissioned for me as a gift for my sixteenth birthday, when I was made an honorary commander of a regiment of Dark Seducers, I looked very good to any man who had eyes. Even though the armor didn’t look like it would do much for protecting someone, it did its job flawlessly. Of course, it helped that my armor was heavily enchanted.

On a given day, the court would assemble in the main hall, while my father sat in his throne, his steward sitting nearby. My father had so thoughtfully assigned Alanwen as my trainer, and the two of us would suit up in our armor and prepare for battle. Then we fought before my father and his court, and I proved myself to be quite a skilled fighter. The fighting was not staged, nor did we use blunted weapons. That is not the way of the Demented. However, the fighting in court was not as brutal as the fighting elsewhere, and we went fairly easy on each other…by Demented standards, anyway.

Most of the time, much to my displeasure, the fight would always end with me on my back, defeated. But I had been working extra hard to improve my skill, and one afternoon it finally showed. This time the fight ended with Alanwen on her back, the point of my sword in her face. With my intense hatred for her, I would have loved nothing more than to run my sword through her skull. I fought with myself not to do it, in front of my father and the entire court, for what seemed like a millennium, though it was only a few seconds, in actuality.

The only thing that really stopped me from exacting my revenge on her was that she smiled slightly, impressed, and spoke to me. “You have learned very quickly, Syl. I shall have to watch my back.”

“Yes,” I replied, still holding the sword in her face and glaring hatefully at the woman I believed had murdered my mother. “And I’ll watch mine.”

She raised a brow as I got up from her and threw down my sword, after my father had risen from his throne and begun to clap his hands. It had taken all of my strength not to run her through just then, though I know it would have meant imprisonment and possibly even torture for me. But I would have her yet. Now was not the time for revenge.

My father came to me, placing his hands upon my shoulders and looking at me with a father’s pride, as his mistress pulled herself up to her feet. The two of us locked eyes as my father embraced me, and it was obvious that neither one of us trusted the other—however, this was the first time she had ever perceived me as a possible threat.

After my father praised and congratulated me, he went to Alanwen, and I was approached by his steward just as I was pulling off my gauntlets. Lucian Jarol was a man of noble Imperial ancestry, apparently also blue-blooded. He was handsome, even at the age of 43, and he’d had his eye on me ever since I began blossoming into a young woman. I was hardly interested in a man of his age, especially considering his reputation with women, but I still liked the attention, and I’ll admit I did flirt with him from time to time.

“You fought very well today,” he said, taking my hand and pressing it to his lips like a complete gentleman. “Your skill is exceptional. I’m quite impressed, milady.”

“Thanks,” I replied, shrugging as if it were nothing. I flashed him a look with my eyes just to tease, and began walking away, but he caught up to walk beside me and kept talking.

“You know, Syl, I am a very wealthy man, even without my position as your father’s steward. My family is one of the oldest and most prominent families in all of Dementia, and I am the only one left to hold all of the wealth they had brought with them from Tamriel. My ancestors were descended from kings, you know.”

I smiled, trying not to laugh, because I knew what he was doing. “And…your point is…?”

He stopped me by taking my arm, looking straight into my eyes. The intensity of his gaze made me shudder, and I was surprised by his abrupt and informal manner with me.

“I have much to offer to a beautiful and well-bred young woman, such as yourself.”

“What can you give me that my father cannot?”

“I can offer you freedom,” he replied, as we began to walk again. “And a title…I am a lord, you know.”

“Yes, I do know… But what makes you think I want to marry you?”

He smiled. “I can see in your eyes that you are interested.”

“In being tied down? No, thank you.”

He stopped again, taking my arms and looking at me intently. “I will not deny that I want you, Syl. Say you will be my wife, and I’ll give you everything that you desire—including the freedom to come and go as you please.”

I pulled away, taking his hands off me. “And if I say ‘no’? Will you try to murder me for refusing you?”

Laughing, he reached out to take my hand again and pressed it to his lips. “You have a wonderful sense of humor…. The answer is, no—I shall not murder you. Apart from the fact that your father would surely execute me, I have no desire to ever hurt you, Syl. And I would never force a woman to be with me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I replied, as I had heard differently.

“You are bold,” he said, his jaw flexing.

“I am honest,” I retorted. Then he shrugged.

“Perhaps…but that was meant to be a compliment. I like brazen women.” He paused here to look me over. His eyes burned with desire, and he went on to say, “I will not deny that once you make the decision to be my wife--.”

“If,” I corrected him.

“Yes,” he sighed, “—if you make the decision to be my wife, you will be expected to remain completely loyal to me.”

“What would happen if I were not?”

His jaw set firmly and I could see that he did not like my question. “I will not tolerate infidelity. I had enough experience of that with my first wife.”

“Your first wife—what happened to her, exactly? Did you kill her when she was unfaithful to you?”

He laughed again. “I do like your feistiness. And your sarcasm…. It’s enticing.”

“You wish to tame me,” I observed.

“I want to ride you,” he replied hungrily, pulling me close to his body in a moment of impassioned fervor. “I like my horses wild.”

I should have slapped him; he would certainly have deserved it. But his intensity was almost intoxicating, and I had never been with a man before, though I wanted to be. His forcefulness was exciting to me, a naïve and innocent elven maiden who had lived a very sheltered life. I had wanted to experience the fullness of my womanhood ever since I began turning into one; but I managed to control my youthful urge, and I pulled myself away from him.

“I am not a horse,” I said, feigning insult at his last comment. “I am a lady, and you will speak to me as such. Good day.”

I began to walk away, toward my quarters, but Lucian followed and stopped me from going inside. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me aside, where we were hidden around the corner, by the rarely used alternate door to my father’s private garden. Someone was walking in the corridor nearby, so we were very quiet, as Lucian held me close to his body in the shadows. When the servant was gone, having turned down another corridor, I pulled away from him and slapped him across the face.

“How dare you put your hands on me?! I could have you thrown in the dungeon! Don’t think that my father would even hesitate to torture you for your indecency.”

“Please,” he said, “I meant no disrespect, honored madwoman. But how long are you going to go on teasing me the way you do? What I said before, and what I did just now—I simply meant….”

“I know what you meant,” I said, cutting him off. “But you are a fool if you think I would give into your advances in such a way. I am an innocent woman, sir—but you would treat me like a common harlot.”

“No, milady, I…I never meant to treat you in such a way.” He dropped to his knees to beg my forgiveness, reaching up to grab me by the waist, touching my bare flesh, and making me yearn for more. But he only meant to plead with me, saying, “Milady, please, forgive my insolence. I got carried away. You have this power over me that I cannot understand…. Can’t you see that I want you for myself?”

“As your wife, or as your harlot? You have not made your intentions all that clear to me, madman.”

“Syl, I want you to be my wife. I want to give you all that you desire and more. I want to share with you my fortune, my manor, and my bed. Please. Will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

“Why would I want to do that? I am barely sixteen, milord—hardly ready to settle down and be a wife, when I haven’t even begun yet to live. Besides, I’m not sure that I trust you.”

“I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you mean. I do not dispose of women in such a manner. The only women I have ever killed were lovers who were trying to kill me for my money.”

“And how many has that been?”

“Well, most of them, actually,” he replied with a grin that seemed out of place.

“And how do you know that I won’t do the same?” I asked, returning his smile.

He chuckled and took my hand, placing it on his arm. “We shall just have to trust each other, won’t we?”

Now I smiled; but then I pulled away and began walking toward my quarters. He followed me again, but I stopped him at the door. “I’m sorry, honored madman, but I am not interested in your offer. Now, if you’ll excuse me—I need to get changed, and I do not want your company while I do so.”

He sighed in disappointment and stepped back as I closed the door in his face. Just to be on the safe side, as I did not trust him at all, I locked the door and left the key inside, to prevent him from peeping, should he desire to take such a risk.

So Syl has discovered cutting? It seems like a perfect fit for the Demented. Likewise the belief that pleasure and pain are intertwined.

Syl has indeed gone through a rite of womanhood, being accosted by a persistent pervert. And one who is 3 times her age no less. I cannot tell you how many times I have had men literally follow me around. Once even after I got in my car and drove off. I was on my way to the police station when he finally gave up and turned down another street.

I am sure we will not be seeing the last of Lucian. Given that this is Dementia, I am sure it can only end one way, with someone stretched out on the floor in a widening pool of blood. Likewise, now that Alanwen has discovered Syl to be a real threat, I am sure we will be seeing a final reckoning there as well. Things are certainly looking exciting!


nits:
but you would treat me like a common wh*re.
I feel you pain here, as the forum swear filter will change the word you want. But putting a * in the middle of it does not look good. I suggest using a word that will pass the filter. Such as strumpet, harlot, or tramp.

A delightfully hormonal episode that fits both darkly and perfectly into Dementia.

First, Syl discovers an intoxicating relationship between pleasure and pain. Fortunately, healing spells entirely change the fabric of 'practicing bleeding'. Secondly, she battles with an understandable desire to 'run her through' after dropping Alanwen to the floor at swordpoint. After all, Syl believes Alanwen to be responsible for the death of her mother and trespassing into her father's affection. I agree with SubRosa, that I suspect Syl and Alanwen are far from done with each other. Finally, Syl is both repulsed and intoxicated by the older Lucian's ardent advances. I suspect that even at her young age, she is fully his equal at teasing, enticing and thwarting ardor. In each of these cases, you do a superb job of capturing what Syl is feeling.

I'm thoroughly enjoying this!

Yes, it's very painful to be censored when I want to use more realistic language for some things... *sighs in disappointment* But I understand, so I will change it to harlot. There are times I use the word 'harlot' anyway--I try to use whichever term is more fitting at the time... But, alas! I must behave.

Yes, Lucian is not someone we will grow fond of in anyway, to say the least... Oh, that's just awful how you were followed. Thankfully you weren't hurt. I've had some perverts bother me, too, but I've managed to protect myself well enough, thankfully. Ugh, even just today I had some new guy at the Beth forums try to solicit me through the PMs, and I was like, um, no way! He gave up after I told him I was married and had two kids, so I won't report him unless he decides to bother me again. The nerve of some guys...

And yes, I thought cutting would be a fitting thing, though it's a rather disturbing and very sad thing for someone to do to themselves. But I can understand it from a psychological point of view, and I feel great compassion for anyone who does it. I just hope they get help, of course...

I would report this guy anyway. My reason is simple. He did it to you, he will do it to others as well (especially those with avatars like yours). And the next person he harasses may not have the balls to chase him off, and he can end up making that person miserable and even drive him/her off the forum. Keeping silent about his behavior only condones something that is inexcusable.

In addition, let me add this. I haven't commented on your story because others are already doing such a great job of it. But I want to let you know that I am reading this and finding it very well written and a very interesting perspective. Though I don't like the Shivering Isles storyline, its foray into madness and the psychological ramifications of the choices you are given in this storyline are fascinating. And the Duchess of Mania is one of the most fascinating characters in this expansion as far as I'm concerned. I'm glad you decided to tackle her story and tell us her perspective.

Argh... those forums can harbor some terrible idiots. Not nearly as bad as the Nexus, but still....

Syl has discovered EEEEEMO!!! NOOOOO!!!

Well, to be more serious, masochism is a good way to hammer home the point of this realm being one where the abnormal is normal. If Syl does enjoy spilling her own blood, that's her decision, but I'm going to have to draw the line on if she decides to try a bit of body-painting. She's a madwoman, not a savage.

Now, if you have Syl fall in love with a lion-man, we could probably call that envious pillock Gaston! He is a bit smoother than him, but nevertheless, he is not the kind of guy I would want to hang out with, and I am glad Syl was able to resist his advances despite her attraction.

Thanks for the advice. He has now been reported.

Good choice. One less pervert to harass those forums can only be a good thing.

I agree with SubRosa, the shock of Syl being a cutter was quickly replaced by the feeling of it being apropos for what we know of her in game and in your story. Bravo for slipping that in and letting it hit us like a ton of bricks and knock us off our seats.

Syl is def growing up in this one, liking the tease; fearing the actual game. Awesome Write !!

SubRosa: Indeed, Syl and Alanwen do not make for a very loving friendship, do they? But perhaps Syl has carried her hatred for Alanwen further than she ought? And Lucian--of course, we can already see in his persistence that he is not likely one to give up... It doesn't bode well...

Acadian: Thank you! Yes indeed--Syl is on quite the hormonal roller-coaster at this point. She does a pretty good job keeping herself under control, but perhaps only because her survival depends on it. She is certainly no weakling, and Lucian doesn't seem to realize his mistake in wanting to control her...

haute ecole rider: Thank you--and I certainly understand the lack of comments. I often find myself at a loss for words, even as I reply to the wonderful comments all of you give. I feel like I just repeat myself over and over again, and I can't really express the fullness of my gratitude in words... I am very glad that you are reading and enjoying it, however.

TK:Aww, no body-painting with her blood? All of the next four chapters revolved around it! Now I have to go back and re-write them... J/K

No, she's not a very artistic sort, anyway. She will be getting distracted from her wonderfully-blooming "career" as a Demented warrior, however, as you are about to find out. She has a long road of distractions, mistakes, and learning the hard way ahead of her....

mALX: Thank you! Indeed, quite shocking, yet perfectly fitting. Actually, I got the idea to add cutting to Syl's story from four places: Cutter the smith, the Dagger of Friendship (very obvious what its purpose is...), studying adolescent psychology, and watching lifetime movies... All of these combined to form the image of the adolescent Demented wood elf who would one day become the duchess of this rather unusual land...

All: I am, as always, so glad to have you reading and enjoying my interpretation of the Duchess of Dementia's early years, and I hope you will continue to enjoy following her journey through madness... Thank you all.



Chapter 4.2—The Duke’s Delinquent Daughter

Though I was sixteen years old, my father still would not give me very much freedom. He didn’t want me going out with my friends in the city, day or night. Even Muurine thought he was being too strict, but she would never dare to voice her opinions to his face. Instead, she hinted that she would turn a blind eye if I were to decide to sneak out of the palace at night--but if I were caught it would all be on me. I was entirely fine with this, and I started sneaking out right away, not even thinking of the dangers that my behavior could have posed. Youth is often coupled with ignorance, and risk-taking is all too common, even among the Demented. I was certainly no different….

After I was sure that my father was in bed for good, and when the coast was clear, I snuck through the palace and out to the grounds, wearing a dark hooded cloak so as to stay better hidden in the shadows. It wasn’t easy to go unnoticed as I crept through the shadows, trying to stay out of sight, as the Seducers and Saints out patrolling the grounds had eyes like those of a hawk. I was very good at sneaking, though, as my father had given me lessons when I was a child, just for the fun of it. I had soaked up his lessons on sneaking and lock-picking thoroughly, and now I finally had a real chance to use those lessons to my advantage.

Having made it to the door that led to Crucible, I let out my breath, realizing that I had been holding it. I was past the hardest part, but I still had to get through the city in the middle of the night, without being recognized by the Seducers that were on duty there. Making sure that my face was well-hidden beneath the hood of my cloak, I went through the door and carefully made my way down the long staircase, nodding when the Seducer standing at her post greeted me. I was relieved that she didn’t appear to recognize me. Once I was on ground-level, I was mostly safe to roam the streets without being recognized, and I relaxed a little.

I turned to look back up at the stairs, amazed that I had done it. I had snuck all the way out of the palace for the first time since my childhood. It was such a rush, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t tried it sooner. What had I been missing?

I took the back streets to avoid being seen, just in case one of the Seducers might still realize who I was, and I made my way to the house of my Khajiit friend, Shavari. Shavari was the daughter of two of the most prominent members of my father’s court, but her parents were much less restricting than my own father was, and she had some of the most infamous parties in all of Crucible. Everyone who wanted to come was invited, but most of those who went were young and foolish, myself included.

Though I had never been to any of Shavari’s parties before, I knew most of the people that were there. Two men I didn’t know eyed me hungrily as I walked by, in search of Shavari. Though I liked being admired, and I wanted to know what it was to be with a man, for some reason I suddenly felt awkward and modest, and I looked away as my face grew hot with embarrassment. I thanked the Madgod it was too dim inside for them to see me well enough to know, and I soon found Shavari standing among a group of friends in a nearby room.

“Syl!” she purred excitedly, coming to embrace me into the fold. “Madgod, I never thought you’d make it to one of my parties! However did you convince the Duke to let you come?”

“I didn’t,” I replied, with a mischievous smile.

Shavari was shocked momentarily; then a smile spread across her catlike face and she clicked her tongue on the back of her teeth. “Well, I never thought you for the type… What changed your mind?”

“I needed to break free,” I replied. “I was being stifled in that palace up there, and I’ve had enough of following my father’s unfair rules. I’m sixteen. I need to breathe, and to live. I’m here for the same reason as everyone else, after all.”

“Perhaps,” she replied in an odd sort of manner. What was she thinking?

Her yellow eyes turned from one side to the other, as she examined our surroundings, then she pulled me aside to speak where no others could listen.

“Syl, now don’t get me wrong—I’m glad that you’re here. I’ve wanted you to come for a long time, but…you need to be careful about how you handle yourself, if you know what I mean?”

“N-No…I don’t know what you mean, Shavari. Should I?”

She smiled vaguely, but I think it was more of a mocking smile than a friendly one, and her ears went back as she bent in closer to whisper, “Syl, some of the people here are…different from the sort of people you are accustomed to at the palace. The men are especially so, and you won’t find many of them acting like gentlemen while they are here.”

“Oh,” I replied, finally grasping her meaning. I blushed a little, and was surprised at myself that I suddenly felt so modest. At court, I flirted freely with the men, and I had even kissed some of them when no one was looking. But now I was out of my usual surroundings, and it was very different.

“Look,” she said, her ears going up again as she took my arm, “I’m not trying to frighten you, or make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know that you have to be more careful around some of the men here—your usual games could wind up getting you into trouble, as the men here aren’t accustomed to empty flirting, you see?”

“Yes…I see. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m your friend—it’s my duty to make sure you don’t get hurt, especially at one of my parties. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself, and watch who you talk to. Be yourself, but don’t let anyone try to make you do anything you don’t want to do. If you feel threatened or uncomfortable, just come and find me, and I will take care of things, yes?”

I nodded, but I didn’t reply. I suddenly felt a little more nervous, wondering if perhaps I should have stayed at the palace after all. What if my father was right? But then I shook those thoughts from my head and tried to follow Shavari’s advice—relax and enjoy myself. I was smart enough to figure out who I ought to avoid, and I could handle myself pretty well with the dagger I kept hidden beneath my skirts, should anyone try to mess with me.

After a couple drinks of wine, I began to feel better and I found the party quite enjoyable. It was nothing like the dull and formal parties I was used to at court, where the only thing to enjoy was the dancing and the live entertainment—which usually consisted of my father’s enemies being tortured in one form or another. But Shavari’s parties were unlike anything I had ever seen, and I was surprised to find that her parents were conveniently absent for the duration of these parties.

Everyone there was drinking, and some were playing party games that only the Demented can enjoy. Our games are dark, and they often involve self-mutilation and torture of one form or another. Pain is our pleasure, and we delight in the agony of ourselves and others.

Some people at the party used skooma right out in the open, and the smell of it made me want to throw up. I had always hated it, though I was used to it because of my father, and I avoided the skooma addicts at the parties without question.

My first night out promised not to be very eventful, and I had every intention of staying only for a short time before sneaking back to the palace. But that all changed rather unexpectedly, when I heard a voice from behind me say, “Greetings, Syl!”

Hearing my name called so suddenly, I was startled, and I turned around to see Galvon Redoran standing there, with a handsome smile. He was a black-haired, grey-skinned Dunmer, and I knew him well from my days spent with Muurine as she gossiped with friends. His mother, Davilia, was one of Muurine’s closest friends, so Galvon and I had spent much time together while they gossiped over tea. As we grew into hormone-charged youths, he began developing a deep infatuation with me, while I simply enjoyed flirting with him. I’ll admit, I was really a terrible flirt in my youth, but I hardly realized that I was even doing it.

Galvon pressed my hand to his lips, and I smiled as I greeted him. Then he asked how I was doing, and how I had talked my father into letting me come to the party. I told him basically the same thing that I had told Shavari, and he was impressed that I would risk so much by disobeying my father.

“Well, I’m glad to see you here,” he said with a charming smile. “Shavari has the best parties in Crucible. Are you enjoying yourself, thus far?”

“I am. But I wouldn’t mind another drink. Some wine, perhaps?”

“I’ll get that for you! Wait right here.”

I smiled as he ran off to pour me a goblet of wine. When he returned with two glasses, I graciously took one and we drank a toast to freedom. We talked for awhile, laughing about his mother’s new favorite hair-style, which made it look like there was a grey bee-hive growing from the top of her head. She was a very pretty woman, but she had a knack for finding the most outrageous outfits and hair styles to ruin her lovely façade.

The more I had to drink, the more our casual talking turned into flirting, and before I knew it, we were headed up to the bedchamber together. I was too drunk and confused to stop it, and though it was the first time for both of us, Galvon seemed to know what he was doing. It was not, however, what I had been expecting—and to be perfectly honest, I was a little disappointed. Until it happened, I had always envisioned that my first time with a man would be special; I wanted it to be like it was in the romantic novels I had read, where love and passion blended to create the perfect atmosphere in which I could be swept away. But instead, I felt awkward the whole time, even after it was over. Galvon, however, was left in awe.

“That was amazing!” he whispered breathlessly as we lay beside each other afterward. He leaned over and tried to kiss me, but I pulled away and began straightening my dress. I didn’t want him to see the disappointment, embarrassment, and regret that was already written on my face.

“Syl, what’s wrong?” he asked, when I headed for the door. “Was I not good? It’s just that I’ve never done that before….”

I rolled my eyes, managing to put on my tough exterior, and I let out a sigh. “Relax, Galvon, you were fine. But I need to get back to the palace, before someone realizes I am gone. It’s almost sunrise.”

He grabbed my hand to stop me from leaving, and then he said, “I want you to stay. Please, Syl, just a bit longer—I love you.”

“Galvon, it was just sex. Let’s not bring love into it.”

“So, that’s it? You just made love to me, and now we’re over with?”

“I didn’t say that. But I don’t want you bringing love into our relationship—I’ve told you that before.”

“So, we’re in a relationship?” he asked, with a hopeful smile.

I rolled my eyes, and said, “I don’t know. Right now I just want to go home. I’m very tired.”

He nodded and agreed to escort me to the palace staircase. We walked very slowly through the streets, and we didn’t talk very much. It was too awkward, and I didn’t want to talk about it. But all of a sudden, we heard a noise, like someone had stumbled into some old crates in an alley nearby.

Galvon drew his sword and pushed me back, prepared to defend me as a tall, thin, and sickly looking fellow stumbled out of the alley toward us. We thought for sure he was going to attack, but he simply stopped and asked, in a thin, ghost-like voice, “’ey, you got some skooma? I ain’t gots none, and the prices ‘ave got so high, I can’t hardly affords it, y’know?”

I was still terrified, as the man continued to look at me in a way that I perceived as threatening. But he was only interested in feeding his habit.

Galvon thrust his sword’s tip forward just a bit, to spook the man, saying, “We don’t have any skooma, old man. Now get out of here, before I have you arrested for harassing a lady of Lord Gelebor’s court.”

The man backed off at that threat, looking at us both fearfully, then turned and started to walk away, mumbling to himself, “I ain’t meanin’ anybody no harm. I just need some skooma….”

When the man was far enough away, Galvon re-sheathed his sword and turned to me. “He’s gone, Syl. You’re safe now.”

I smiled a little, responding by saying, “That was very brave of you, Galvon. I thought for sure he was going to attack us.”

“That old man? Nah, he’s just an old skooma addict. Some of them will try to kill for the drug, but most of them are too weak and feeble even to try.”

“My father’s not, and he has skooma every day.”

“Yeah, but he’s got the money to support his habit, so he can keep himself from getting sick from withdrawals.”

“I never knew you were so courageous,” I said again, in an attempt to hide the fear that encounter had caused me. “Thank you for protecting me.”

He smiled modestly and shrugged. “I’d do anything for you, Syl. I could never let anyone hurt you.”

I offered a thankful, although forced smile, and then continued walking, eager to get home, while trying hard not to cry. I knew he still wanted to talk to me, but we were already close to the palace. When we got to the staircase, I pulled up my hood again and left him without much of a goodbye.

The Duke’s Delinquent Daughter
Alliteration ftw!

Youth is often coupled with ignorance, and risk-taking is all too common
Yep, some things never change.

the live entertainment—which usually consisted of my father’s enemies being tortured in one form or another.
Ahh, now that is good old fashioned fun!

So Syl has gone to her first wild party, and had her first pony ride. I thought your depiction of her first time was excellent, because it is so common to reality. No earthquakes, no fireworks. It's just sex, and then it's over, and on comes the awkward morning after. Except with Syl it was still the night before!

Galvon seems to want a lot more from their relationship than Syl is capable of giving. I wonder if he really feels anything for her, or if perhaps he is just using her because of her position as the Duke's daughter? I get the feeling that if the Duke finds out, he will be the 'entertainment' at the next party though.

I was completely swept into Syl's evening for a time, and hope you will take that as testament to your skill. Nicely done!

It is good that Syl's first time is behind her, yet I feel a touch of sadness that it was not more special for her. At least she knew the fellow's name.

Your vague references to the sadistic/masochistic nature of the party games were so very and appropriately . . . Demented.

Syl seems to have a detachment about her life that wasn't there in the early chapters, even after her mothers murder. I noticed some of this in game even with her paranoia. You depicted it well - like seeing a window into where it evolved and a few of the catalysts that brought it about.

Like Acadian, I hate to see her first time be because she was drunk and flirting - not filled with the feelings it may have been had the man been Thadon. Of course the first time is always awkward and not given to experiencing fireworks, etc. - but to have no emotional attachment to either the man or the act - that is a sad beginning for her.

All I can say is ... hope to heck she doesn't become PG from it, lol. Great Chapter !!!

SubRosa:Thank you, and yes--it was important that I not get into the cliche of portraying Syl's first time as this wonderful experience complete with fireworks and all of that, simply because I wanted to portray a realistic first-time experience. And also, I wanted to show what happens when someone who lives a sheltered life gets their first taste of freedom...

Also, your insights are always so good and inspiring. Your commentary is much valued, as is the commentary of all my readers!

Acadian:Thanks! I am glad you enjoyed her night as much as her!

And I agree that it's better she knew his name, and at least had something of a relationship with him. Not perhaps what there should have been, but that is sadly how it so often is.

Also, glad you enjoyed my description of the Demented nature of the parties. Yes, somehow I don't think the residents of Bliss would be too fond of the parties held in Crucible, that's for sure.

mALX:I am so glad you caught onto the detachment that really started with the onset of adolescence for her. It's like she sort of developed a way of distancing herself from her own life, as a means of protecting herself from all the pain and sorrow and darkness that life in Dementia really throws at you.

And not to worry - according to lore, elves aren't usually fertile until they reach full maturity. So, she should have another year or two before she has that to worry about...hopefully....



Chapter 5.1—Blood and Wine

While I did remain friends with Galvon, I wanted to forget about that night with him and to keep our relationship platonic. I knew that he didn’t like it, but I reminded him that I never promised him anything, and I continued to enjoy myself at Shavari’s parties while trying to behave myself. Of course, the mixture of alcohol and youth did not allow for constant success, but I was pretty good at controlling myself when faced with the advances of all the men at the parties who would have loved to sleep with the Duke’s daughter. I rarely gave into the raging lust, much to the dissatisfaction of many men.

Muurine didn’t like it when I began returning home a little tipsy. She expressed her concerns, warning me about the dangers getting drunk could pose. “Too many of the young people like to get drunk at parties nowadays,” she said to me, “leaving them vulnerable to be mugged in the streets or taken advantage of—or, Madgod forbid, even worse….”

I rolled my eyes, too foolish and young to listen to her advice, saying, “Oh, Madgod.... Muurine, you’re starting to sound like my father, always worried about me, and for no reason. I’m fine. None of my friends would ever take advantage of me—they don’t need to.” I stopped to chuckle a bit, then finished by saying, “I give of myself enough rather freely.”

I laughed at my joke, but Muurine didn’t even flinch. She was not amused. “Syl, I am serious. You are acting like a fool. You are going to get yourself killed if you keep all this up, and then I’ll be left to take the blame when your father decides to execute me for allowing you to act like this.”

“You’re not allowing me, remember? You’re not supposed to know.”

She sighed in frustration and threw up her hands, then climbed into bed and went to sleep without even saying goodnight. And so, I had won the argument—for now. The next morning, however, it was Muurine who felt she had won.

I slept late, missing breakfast—much to my father’s displeasure—and I woke up with a splitting headache. Muurine laughed a little, saying, “I remember those days….”

“Ohh…. Just tell me how to make it go away….” I laid in the bed, holding my forehead and feeling like I was on the brink of death. If I wasn’t going to die, right then I certainly wanted to. Nothing could have been as bad as how I felt at that moment, so I thought. Unfortunately, Muurine couldn’t give me any relief.

“Sorry, dear,” she said, sitting on the side of the bed and giving me a damp cloth to hold over my eyes. “There are no spells or potions to relieve hangovers.”

“Well, there should be!” I exclaimed. That was followed by a miserable, “Ohh….”

Muurine laughed again, shaking her head as she moved some hair away from my face. “I told you that you shouldn’t be getting drunk at those parties…. You missed breakfast. Your father was not pleased. You’re lucky I covered for you, though.”

“Thanks,” I said, with a touch of sarcasm.

“Now do you think you’ll stop drinking too much at the parties?”

“You think I got drunk on purpose? I wasn’t trying to drink too much, Muurine. It just happened.”

“You don’t have to get drunk, you know. It’s a matter of listening to your body. When you start to feel the alcohol affecting you, stop.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I replied, unwilling to listen to her words of wisdom. Again, young and foolish….

“Well,” she said, “if you go on doing this to yourself, then it serves you right. No one has ever been successful in finding a cure for hangovers, though many have tried. You just have to take some responsibility upon yourself, or you’re going to suffer.”

“You’re not helping,” I grumbled. When she started to respond, I launched my pillow at her, and said, “Stop talking! Just let me suffer in peace!”

She chuckled a bit and returned my pillow to me, then got up to walk toward the door, every clank of her high-heeled shoes on the stone floor making my head pound as if it were going to shatter to pieces.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” she said, before leaving. “Your father believes you are ill. He insisted on sending for a healer, but I assured him it was a minor ailment, which should be over by the end of the day on its own…. Perhaps you should think twice about going out again tonight. But, if I know you—which I do—you won’t.”

She was right. I went out again that very night, doing the same thing all over again. I could have prevented myself from getting drunk. I felt what Muurine had been talking about. But everyone else was doing it, and I didn’t want to be left out. So, I joined in and drank too much, regretting it again in the morning. Muurine refused to cover for me again, so I had to go about my day as if nothing were wrong, while she chuckled and smirked; and I hated her all the more because of it.



Apart from Shavari and Galvon, my usual group of friends included an Imperial from my father’s court named Una Armina, whose dream of one day running a museum of sorts would one day come true; and Shavari’s brother, K’Shar. K’Shar was the only Khajiit I was ever intimate with, but mostly we enjoyed each other’s sense of humor. Galvon was jealous that I spent more time joking around with K’Shar than I did doing anything with him, but he would get over it. After all, he was not the first and only person I was friends with. In fact, I had several friends, but the one I would get along with the most for awhile was a newcomer to the group, a Bosmer from Ashwood who came to New Sheoth as an apprentice to the master smith.

“They call me Cutter,” she said, when introduced to me one night at a party. “Evelin is my given name, but don’t ever call me that, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

She spoke in a slow drawl when she said this, and the look in her eyes convinced me that she wasn’t joking. I shuddered as I shook her hand, and asked, “Why do they call you Cutter?”

“I like to cut things,” she answered with a dark smile. “There’s nothing more satisfying than the sound of a sharp blade piercing someone’s flesh, or the feel of it slicing through your own.”

I didn’t know what to say after that, but Cutter smiled and changed the subject. After talking for a little while, I found myself growing more comfortable with her, and we hit it off after that. We were exactly the same age, and we even had the same birthday, which bonded us together, in a way. Her eyes were hazel, and she always wore dark eye-shadow around them, and blood-red paint upon her lips. This style she got me to wear for awhile and the men seemed to like us all the more because of it. My father wasn’t fond of it, but he didn’t pay much attention to me at this point.

[Screenshot—Cutter]

Cutter was a very interesting person. She was much less shy than me, though I was certainly not a wall-flower, and she helped me to loosen up more around the rest of the bunch. She quickly became the life of the party, one could say, and we got along well because we had much of the same interests—most notably, playing with knives and fooling around with men.

Once a week, at her urging, we began going to the tavern at night, which was then simply called The Crucible Inn. The tavern was owned by a disgusting orc named Sharag gro-Ghoth, and his brother, Borzol. Sharag didn’t like us being in there much, because we never bought anything and we only came in to flirt with his customers. But we went anyway, and he couldn’t really kick us out, because as far as he knew, we weren’t doing anything illegal.

The first couple nights, we only flirted with the men and got them to pay for our drinks. But one night, Cutter came up with an idea. She wouldn’t tell me what it was at first; all she told me was that I needed to change into more conspicuous apparel.

“What could be more conspicuous than what I’m already wearing?” I asked, puzzled by her suggestion.

“You need to look appealing, but not wealthy. If the men at the tavern realize who you are, this will never work.” She threw some of her own clothing at me, and said, “Here, put this on.”

Cutter decided that we should seek out wealthy looking men with an interest in Wood Elves, and a willingness to participate in our little games. We would convince a man to take us up to his room, thinking he could have his way with us, and then we would get him to let us tie him to the bed. Once that was done, and his clothes all off, we would make off with his money while we left him tied up. The men never reported us because they were too ashamed and embarrassed, so we got away with it.

Of course, not all the men were into being tied up, so we had to come up with other ways of tricking them. With my growing knowledge of alchemy, I was able to create an elixir that one of us could slip into their drinks while the other distracted them by showing some skin and flirting. By the time they’d get us up to their room, they were in such a state of incompetence that we were easily able to make off with whatever money or valuables they had on them. One bonus my elixir added to our crimes was that it left the men with absolutely no memory of what had led to them being robbed. Once we realized this, we decided to use my elixir every time.

The whole thing was just for thrills, and for the money, as Cutter’s pay as an apprentice was meager, and I didn’t receive any sort of an allowance from my father. I would never have thought up this little scheme on my own, but Cutter had a way of getting people to do things that they might not normally do.

When we weren’t at Shavari’s parties, or picking up foolish lusty men at the tavern, Cutter and I would go to the smith shop, where she lived with the master smith of New Sheoth, who was training her to take over one day. The master smith, Morga gra-Shadborgob, was the most pleasant and agreeable orcish woman I had ever met, and she always welcomed me when Cutter brought me home with her. She left us alone most of the time, and she never told anyone that I was sneaking out of the palace, though she knew without question who I was.

Her six-year-old son, Ushnar, however was a different story. He would always pester us, until Morga sent her grown son, Dumag, to take him back to his bed and get him to sleep. Ushnar was an interesting child, friendly, just like his mother; but he had a terrible fear of cats which had been with him since he was very small. He had a childish crush on Cutter, which was why he always pestered us, but she had an eye for Dumag. I couldn’t understand her interest in an orc, but that’s where our tastes differed. I didn’t mind Dumag as a friend, but he wasn’t quite as friendly as his mother and little brother. He wasn’t disagreeable, but neither was he pleasant.

Once left alone, we would often lie on the bed in Cutter’s small chamber together, talking and laughing like young women often do, and we usually shared a bottle of red wine together, drinking straight from the bottle. Then, when we felt like it, we would take out one of our daggers and use it on ourselves, and on each other. Allowing ourselves to bleed for awhile before healing the cuts, we would lie there and stare at the ceiling, relishing the pain.

Sometimes Cutter would ask to taste my blood, and I would let her. When she asked me to taste hers, however, I was not so open to it. I have never liked the taste of blood, and contrary to popular belief, I do not drink the blood of my enemies.

There was but one time when I was willing to taste her blood, as part of some ritual she thought up. “I want us to be blood-sisters,” she explained to me.

I was hesitant, but she was adamant, and so I gave in. Then we pulled out my dagger—a unique dark blade resembling the swords of the Dark Seducers, made from obsidian—and she went first, cutting my wrist and holding it out to let the blood drip into a cup. Then she handed the dagger back to me and offered her wrist, saying, “Now it is your turn. Cut me and let my blood pour into the cup to mingle with yours, so that we may drink it. When this is complete, we will share a bond that can never be broken, but by death.”

The thought of drinking anyone’s blood almost made my stomach turn, but I swallowed my discomfort and took the dagger. She was eager with anticipation, holding her arm out for me and waiting almost impatiently. I had no qualms about cutting her, and I sliced the blade across her wrist with ease. Then I waited while her blood dripped into the cup with my own, and we healed our cuts with a potion I had made earlier that day.

Smiling wickedly, Cutter used her finger to stir the blood together, and then tasted it from her finger, gasping with delight. Then she lifted the cup into the air, and said, “Spirits of darkness, sisters in blood let us be—an unbreakable bond; in blood unity!”

After saying this strange chant, she lifted the cup to her lips and drank from it. Taking it in for a moment, she closed her eyes and savored the taste, while I watched with a mixture of disgust, apprehension, and curiosity. When she handed the cup to me, I looked down into it, seeing just enough of our blood left for me, and then I looked back up at her with uncertainty.

“Go on,” she said, almost feverishly, “drink it! Drink, and we shall be sisters for as long as our blood fills our veins!”

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and brought the cup to my lips. The crimson liquid was still warm, and the strong iron taste made me nearly cringe. I had to fight not to gag, thinking too much about what it was I was drinking, and when I had finished what was left in the cup, I set it down and looked at Cutter. She was more than satisfied, and I had to force a smile so she would not grow offended.

“Now, we are blood-sisters,” she said in a deep, slow voice. Her lips were still red with blood, and some even ran down her chin. It was chilling. But at the same time, it was exciting.

Syl's first hangover! Not the last from the looks of it either. I see like most people, she did not learn tolerance from her experience.

But everyone else was doing it, and I didn’t want to be left out.
Ahh, to be a teen. It is not easy being different from everyone else. Especially when you are as young as Syl.

Nice to meet more NPCs whom we know from SI, like Una and Ushnar. But best of all Cutter! She is one of my favorite NPCs in the game, not to mention the SI. Not in the least because she is a goth girl. I love her lines about blood and ripping bodies apart. It is wonderful to see her here as an apprentice to the previous smith.

Syl continues to evolve and transform episode by episode as she grows darker. You are really managing this well!

Looking back, she has come a long way since her kiss with the little boy addicted to chocolate. When the little fairy princess talks about torturing her foes someday, the talk is beginning to match her actions. Again, very carefully crafted in such a way that everything she gets into seems to flow naturally for her. Cutter, and her influence on Syl, seems quite significant.

Syl's experimentation into the dark side of SI is leading her in a downward spiral she won't easily pull herself up from. I wonder if Cutter is somehow connected to the pretty girl that watched her from the borders that day she was with Thadon? Great Write !!

SubRosa:That is something I know from experience, in some ways. I didn't fit in because I didn't follow the crowd. I certainly understand the desire to, though, and I thought it was fitting for Syl in her desire to escape the pressures of living under her father's rule. She's rebelling, and not necessarily in a good way...

Oh yes, and Cutter was always one of my favorite NPCs. Something about her has always appealed to me, so I thought she would make a fitting friend for young Syl... And little by little I will bring in more people from the game. Some don't come in for awhile yet, but many of the connections are beginning to show, at this point.

Acadian:Thank you. Evolving Syl's character is something I've put a lot into, because I've been wholly concerned that I would not do it correctly. And yes, Cutter definitely plays a huge role in Syl's evolution, because Syl is most impressionable in her current state of transformation from childhood and adolescence into adulthood.

mALX:A downward spiral, indeed. And, like most things, it will get much worse before it gets better. She will learn much from this experience, though....



Chapter 5.2—Obsession

The more I was spending time with Cutter, the less time I spent with Galvon and the rest of our friends. Most of them didn’t mind it so much, but Galvon was growing increasingly jealous. I began feeling threatened by him, as he was starting to stalk me obsessively, and I couldn’t seem to go anywhere in Crucible without him being there, watching me.

Finally, one day, I decided to confront him about it. He had been spying on me as usual, but he tripped on something and stumbled, falling into some crates, and that caught my attention—as well as the attention of all the other people walking in the area. He tried to hide himself again, but he knew I had already seen him, so I narrowed my eyes and approached him, not even attempting to hide my annoyance with him.

“I saw you there, Galvon. Come out and show yourself, at once!”

After a few brief seconds, he peered out from behind the crates, and then he came out with his head down, looking like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. He smiled awkwardly, and raised his hand slightly, muttering, “Hi, Syl.”

“Why are you following me?” I demanded.

“I…was just in the area, and…I--.”

“Don’t lie to me!” I spat. “I know you were following me. This is hardly the first time I’ve noticed. I could have you arrested and tortured in my father’s dungeon, and don’t think I would hesitate to do so, if you continue to stalk me.”

“But, Syl, I…love you!” he cried. I was horrified, as he knelt there before me in the middle of the street, proclaiming his love for all to hear. A few bystanders watched the scene with mixed expressions. Honestly, it was pathetic.

“Get up! Stop making a fool of yourself, Galvon!” I said. “I have had enough of your jealousy and your obsessive behavior. I will not tolerate it any longer. Leave me alone, or I’ll tell my father about you stalking me.”

He remained on his knees, and he wept into his hands. I wasn’t sure whether to be more angry or embarrassed. I was quite a bit of both, actually, and I rolled my eyes impatiently. He was making a ridiculous scene, and people were laughing at us!

“I thought you would love me!” he cried through his tears. “I thought you cared about me!”

“Just get away from me, cur! You disgust me! I despise you!”

Perhaps I went a little overboard, insulting him as I did, but I was furious with his behavior. After that last outburst from me, he got up and ran off, disappearing for awhile. I felt somewhat guilty for saying such things to him, but I had simply had enough, and I didn’t care if I never saw him again.

Meanwhile, I continued sneaking out three or more nights a week, and my father still didn’t have any clue. He was too busy playing around with his mistress to care, anyway; but I was glad he was distracted. It kept him off my case, at least….

Sneaking around through the back streets of Crucible at night was dangerous, though, especially for a young woman who was walking the streets alone. I knew I was taking a risk that way; but I didn’t really see how easy a target I was for anyone looking to cause trouble, until I found myself in a very bad and nearly fatal situation.

It was especially dark that night, and it had been raining off and on all day. The streets were muddy and the air was cool, and a thick blanket of fog descended into the city. This, alone, made me nervous, but then I got the sense that someone was following me. It was a horrible, terrifying feeling, but I tried to ignore it while I picked up my pace. Thinking I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, I panicked. I started to run, but then I ran straight into a man who caught me in his arms, and I screamed.

The stout Breton man who had caught me laughed at my terror, and I tried to flee. But when I whirled around, I found myself face to face with a tall, slender and fair-haired Imperial, who waved a dagger in my face. He was the one who had been following me, and it seemed they had drawn me into a trap. He laughed in a calm, dark manner, which frightened me all the more.

“My, my, my,” he said, looking at me while his friend held me tightly with a dagger pressed to my throat. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out this late at night, and in this part of town? Don’t you know there are bad men out here, who might do you harm?”

“P-Please,” I begged, “let me go….”

“Certainly, madwoman,” he replied. “But first, my friend and I must teach you a lesson about the dangers of being out here so late at night without a chaperone.”

I swallowed hard, and asked, “What are you going to do to me?”

The Imperial smiled and looked down at my heaving bosom, and I knew then what he had intended. I was horrified, but I couldn’t move because of the dagger pressed against my throat. The Imperial, seeming to know that I was hiding something, reached his hand up under my skirts, sliding them up my legs until he found what he was looking for—my dagger, strapped to my thigh.

“Aha, I just knew I would find something hidden here,” he said with a smile. He pulled the dagger out of its sheath and looked closely at it. “Well, well, well—this is quite a dagger, madwoman. A rare honor, to be given a dagger like this.”

“My f-father is the Duke,” I stammered. But the men only chuckled at my claim—whether or not they believed me, I can’t say, but they didn’t seem to care even if they did.

The Imperial then used my dagger to slice through the laces on my bodice, and his friend laughed with excitement as I began crying and begging them not to hurt me. But he just ignored me, and said ferociously, “Now, let me see--!”

I closed my eyes as tears slipped down my cheeks, and I fully expected to be murdered that night. The Imperial smiled devilishly, while his stout Breton friend continued to press the dagger into my neck, and I said aloud, in a miserable voice, “Sheogorath, help me!”

The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes just in time to see the Imperial’s menacing smile turn into dread as the sharp end of a blade came through him from behind. All of us gasped.

The Breton dropped his dagger in surprise, while the Imperial looked down at the sword that was going through his abdomen. When the sword was pulled out, he dropped to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth as he began to choke on it, and that’s when I saw Galvon standing there behind him, holding a bloodied long sword.

He slashed the blade across the Imperial’s neck, severing his head in one quick swipe, and then he charged at the Breton, who had long since let me go. I watched in amazement, unable to move, as Galvon ran him through. When the man fell dead, Galvon turned to look at me, but I was still too shocked to move or even to say anything. Even more shocking was the look in his eyes—they were dark and almost just as evil as the eyes of the men who he had just slaughtered. It sent shivers down my spine, but I reached toward him and began trying to thank him, only to be cut off.

“I should have let them hurt you!” he cried. “It would have been your own damn fault.” I was stunned by his harsh words, and I couldn’t speak as he continued to glare at me angrily. Then he continued, saying, “But I couldn’t let that happen to you, Syl, because I love you.”

“Galvon, I’m…sorry--.”

“Don’t be. I don’t care anymore. If you don’t love me, I can’t force you to be with me. I’m a fool to have fallen for you in the first place. Go home, or back to Cutter’s—I don’t care. But don’t expect me to save you the next time you find yourself in trouble, Syl.”

He began to walk away, but then I stopped him, grabbing him by the arm. “I didn’t ask for you to save me, Galvon. I don’t need a god-damned hero! But…thank you anyway. You have shown your worth.”

“Just as you have shown yours,” he said, pulling away. But again, I stopped him.

“What is that supposed to mean? I just gave you a compliment, and you shot me down. Why does it have to be all or nothing with you, Galvon? You should have just been happy to have me at all.”

“I went out of my way to please you, Syl!” he snapped, turning on me. “I wanted to be more than just friends with benefits with you, but you’re too much of a harlot to care!”

I slapped him across the face when he said that, taking him by surprise. My eyes glared hotly at him as he rubbed his sore cheek. Then I tore into him, saying, “How dare you speak to me in such an appalling manner, Galvon Redoran! I am a lady of esteem, and my father is the Duke of Dementia. Most men would give anything to have what you have, but you’re too selfish and controlling to let me go! I am not your property, nor any other man’s, and I will not be tied down to a life of quiet submission with anyone! If what I offer isn’t satisfying enough for you, then go find someone else to give you what you want.”

“I want you, Syl!” he cried. “Don’t you see that? I don’t want anyone else—no other women, not even ten—not even a hundred—could give me the satisfaction that you have given me.”

“You have not been satisfied, Galvon. You are not satisfied, because I won’t settle down and stay devoted to you alone. What makes you think I am going to change?”

“Because love can move mountains, Syl,” he said, taking my hands in his and holding them together. “I love you, and I know that you will not go on this way forever.”

“You do not know me very well, then; and it’s clear you have not been listening. I am not going to give myself to you anymore than I already have. Now go away from me, and do not ever speak to me again. You have shown me the extent of your love, and I am not moved. Your harsh words and cruel name-calling have given me all that I need to know how deep your love goes. Goodbye, Galvon. May the Madgod be with you.”

I left him then, to return to the palace, and he never spoke to me again. Eventually, he moved away, after his mother was killed when a skooma addict broke into their house in search of money. What became of him I’ll never know…. Perhaps I was unfair to him, but I had to be honest about how I felt, and to do what was best for both of us in the end. I never held anything against him, and only felt fondness for him in my heart. But I couldn’t love him as he wanted me to, and I wasn’t going to lie just to make him happy. I had to be honest, even if it meant breaking his heart.

That was an embarrassing scene in the streets with Galvon! I wonder if Syl's father heard of it? If so, I suspect it will go badly for both Syl and Galvon. But especially Galvon!

OTOH, when Syl was accosted in the alley, I was expecting it to be Galvon attacking her. What a lovely twist to have him come to the rescue (because he was undoubtedly following her as well).

and I will not be tied down to a life of quiet submission with anyone!
I practically cheered when I read this! Go Syl!

“I love you, and I know that you will not go on this way forever.”
This almost made me laugh. Such a wonderful switch of the traditional gender roles here. It is usually the woman who is dumb enough to believe that her a-hole b/f who treats her like crap will change his ways because he really loves her. So pleasant to see it the other way around!



nits:
He began untying my corset from the front
Corsets are laced in the back. Bodices are laced in the front. The reason is that corsets are made for the wealthy, who have servants to tie them up for them. Bodices are for everyone else, who have to tie them themselves. (although I have corsets, and can tie them myself. You just need a mirror and some practice.) Plus, you also said that one of the thugs used a dagger to cut through the laces of her bodice a few paragraphs earlier.

Ah, yes, I see what you mean. I'm into corsets, too, but I've never had a real one....

I'll change it--since she was sneaking around she'll have on a bodice, and I'll remove the corset... I was thinking she had a corset underneath, but I guess that wouldn't make sense... :facepalm:

Such delicately painted but steady growth Syl continues to portray. In this episode she strikes me for the first time as a fully grown young woman. She is still young and I have no doubt she will continue to grow a great deal, but she knows her own mind and makes choices that have some thought behind them.

The scene where she was accosted and held at knife point was especially well done in terms of providing a foreboding atmosphere of darkness, right down to the fog that blanketed Crucible. What a rich backdrop you provide!

Nit? What I'm going to offer is very subjective, so please simply consider it and feel free to disregard it if you choose. You have a tendency to perhaps over embellish your speech tags or render them redundant. Trust your readers to grasp your intent with a lighter touch. Some examples:

“Don’t lie to me!” I spat, glaring at him with fury.
The words themselves, the '!', spat, glare, fury - one or perhaps two of those things is enough to make the point.

“But, Syl, I…love you!” he cried, pouring his heart out to me.
His words and the '!' and cried all make it clear he is pouring his heart out.

“Get up! Stop making a fool of yourself, Galvon!” I said sternly.
The words and the '!' leave no doubt that Syl's tone was stern.

“P-Please,” I begged, in a trembling voice, “let me go….”
The P-Please makes it clear her voice is trembling.

“My f-father is the Duke,” I stammered fearfully.
The f-father makes it clear she is stammering.

My recommendation is to, whenever possible, tend to favor letting the dialogue itself convey the emotion. Do not avoid simple speech tags like 'I said' that do the job of telling us who is speaking in a most unobtrusive and almost invisible manner.

Powerful scenes in this one, Syl continues to push everyone away from her. I hope she got her dagger back !!! Great Chapter !!!!

SubRosa:Oh, terribly embarrassing! I would have hated being in Syl's shoes at that moment! Galvon is definitely not the guy for Syl--he's too much of a...well, a weakling. She wants a man who worships her--but within reason. She is definitely a strong woman. I like to call Syl my "towanda." (If you've seen the movie Fried Green Tomatoes, you'll know what I mean.)

And also, thank you again for pointing out my error with the corset/bodice thing. I've always loved both, but had yet to quite understand the differences between them. But now that you've clarified that for me, I shan't make the same mistake again!

(Also--I had a corset of a cheaper sort that I was also able to tighten and tie on my own, with practice, so I definitely understand what you said about that. I want a real one, but it's something I need to save up for... I love costumes of that sort! )

Acadian:She is definitely ahead of her time, in a way, as a strong woman who is determined to break free of traditional roles and constraints. I've always seen the Shivering Isles as an interesting mixture of my favorite historic eras--Medieval, Elizabethan, and Victorian. It has elements that can be taken from all of them, so I thought it would be fitting for the Demented to have more of a Victorian Era mindset, in which Syl feels stifled and constrained.

I'm glad you liked my creepy atmosphere for the scene of Syl's attack. What you said is exactly what I was aiming for.

mALX:oops! I guess I forgot to mention the dagger after Galvon rescued her! I should go figure out how to sort of fit that in somewhere! lol

I'm glad you picked up on that--she is like me in that way. She wants to be noticed, but at the same time, she wants to be invisible. It's quite the dilemma, lol! Sadly, she will eventually push pretty much everyone away, perhaps going overboard in her desire to be free and independent. It takes a lot of work to get a characteristic like this balanced!



Chapter 5.3—Obsession

When I returned home the night of my attack, Muurine was waiting for me, as always, and she just about did a flip when she saw the laces of my bodice hanging loose, and the tiny cut on my neck where the dagger had dug in. She could see that I had been crying, and she was alarmed at my disheveled appearance.

“Madgod, Syl, what happened? Who did this to you? Please don’t tell me you were--.”

“Nothing happened,” I cut in. “I’m fine. Galvon took care of it for me.”

“You were attacked then?”

“Like I said, Galvon stopped it before anything happened. I’m fine.”

She sat on the side of the bed and watched me as I bent down to view my reflection in the looking glass, using a wet cloth from my washbasin to clean my face and neck. Then I healed myself, having noticed the cut, and began readying myself for bed. I didn’t talk, and I didn’t even look at Muurine, but she continued to watch me closely, still concerned about what had happened.

“Syl, won’t you tell me anything?” she asked finally, after waiting for a time for me to speak.

I let out a sigh as I stripped off my dress and threw it on the floor by the shoes I had just finished taking off. Then I answered, “There’s no need, Muurine. Nothing happened to me, so what’s the point in talking about it? Just so you can make it into the morning’s gossip?”

“No,” she replied, offended that I would even suggest that, although it was likely true. “I’m simply concerned for your well-being. You’re like a daughter to me, Syl, and…if somebody hurt you, I would want to know. I’d make them my next test subjects for the spells I’ve been working on, actually….”

“Well, I wasn’t hurt. Galvon happened upon the scene, and the men who tried to attack me are now lying dead in the street. Does that satisfy your need to know everything?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes a little, as if hurt by my attitude. Then she stood up and began getting into her bed, saying, “Fine. I can see that I’m not wanted here.”

“Oh, Madgod,” I cursed under my breath, annoyed by how easily hurt she was, though I’m certain it was all a pretense.

I pulled on my nightgown and walked over to her bed, bending down to give her a kiss on the cheek. She opened her dark brown eyes a little and almost smiled up at me, then said, “You know, I really do think of you like a daughter to me, Syl. You’re the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had, and I’ve raised you since you were a year old….”

“I know, Muurine,” I said, smiling faintly and sitting on the side of her bed. “And I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and that I’ve been such a handful.”

“Oh, not at all, dear,” she said, getting comfortable in her bed and stretching a bit. “You’ve been a real treat. Difficult at times, yes—but always a wonder, and a blessing as well…. You’ll understand it one day, when you’re a mother.”

“Do you think I will be, one day?” I asked, thinking about it for the first time in my life.

“Of course, dear.”

I smiled a little, thinking about it. “You know, I think I’d like that. Being a mother, I mean. I’ve never really thought about it before.”

“Your time will come I’m sure, dear. Just be careful about what sort of men you are letting into your life, though. You wouldn’t want your child to be sired by a brute or by someone who’ll abandon you one day.” She paused to yawn, and then added, “But you don’t need to worry too much about it at this point, since you will likely not even be fertile for a couple more years.”

“Perhaps not,” I replied, thinking quietly. I yawned then, and got up off the bed, going to my own across the chamber. Muurine was practically already asleep, and she didn’t hear me say goodnight. So, I climbed into bed and let out a sigh, thinking about the terrifying events that had happened that night. Then I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer before blowing out the candle on my nightstand and drifting off to sleep.


Around the time of my seventeenth birthday, my father suddenly began taking an interest in my life again. The reason?--My studies were being neglected, because I was having too many distractions. The verdict—“No more sneaking out and going to parties and what have you….”

I was stunned, and my father almost smiled when he saw the look on my face. But he managed to keep a straight face, and said, “You didn’t actually think I was oblivious to your mischief, Syl, now did you? While I am not pleased with your behavior, I am willing to give pardon if you surrender yourself to staying home from parties from now until I say otherwise, so you can continue educating yourself with useful knowledge and skills. Shall we make it a deal?”

I let out a sigh and nodded my head, unable to look at him, saying only, “Yes, Ada.”

“Very good then,” he replied, clearing his throat a bit uncomfortably. “Well, you may carry on, then. You have much studying to do, if you’re ever to catch up with all that you’ve been neglecting in the past months, so I would suggest you not dawdle.” As I started to leave, he added, “Oh and wash that paint off your face. I won’t have my daughter running around here looking like a harlot.”

Of course, he was referring to the eye shadow, liner, and lip paint that Cutter got me wearing. I let out a sigh and nodded, then walked to my quarters, having no choice but to obey.

And so I was being confined to the palace again, a prisoner in my own House…. It’s kind of ironic, when I think back on it now. Back then, I couldn’t stand being confined to the palace like a caged bird. But now, I’ve become a sort of prisoner in the palace by my own doing, and it is where I am content to stay, as I feel safe nowhere else.

It’s strange how we change through the years, becoming that which we most feared and despised while growing up. Perhaps it isn’t that way for everyone, but for me it has been a huge transformation. I went from a carefree youth, fearing nothing and no one, to a woman who now fears everything around her. But I’ve always been good at masking my fears and my vulnerability under the guise of confidence and courage. The truth is, I’ve always been afraid, ever since I was a child. It’s just gotten worse over the years, to the point that I feel terrified even to leave the security of my own quarters.

Our lives never cease changing, even when they remain the same. Thadon told me that once, not so long ago, but I laughed at him when he said it. Now I see that he was right, and it’s true. We never fully see the truth that lies before our eyes, until it has already left us. Then we wonder how we can ever get it back…. Can I forgive him for what he did? Can he forgive me? Perhaps somehow we can find a way to change things with each other, to make them right. But would we be allowed to, if we tried? I want to make things right between us, but Sheogorath would likely never allow it. How it went on for as long as it did, I cannot understand, but we cannot go on testing His patience forever.

But my heart cannot resist from telling him the truth about it all. He needs to know the truth, even if it kills the both of us. Madgod, why is it so hard to turn away from him forever? Why can’t I shut him out and tear him from my heart, as I know I ought? I am too weak. Again, I have faltered where I should have been strong. I will be punished for my weakness. Madgod forgive me, but I love him so….

Syl's homecoming to Muurine shows just how much the two have drifted apart. Where once Muurine was the central figure in her life, now she is merely one more moon in orbit of our, older, wilder wood elf.

I was not surprised to learn that her father knew what was going on (well probably not the being attacked part, and the wild sex) But no more goth makeup!

I loved Syl's musing near the end, about how life changes you between your youth and maturity. It is amazing how your feelings, views, and priorities change. In the case of Syl it is her paranoia. But to a less graphic extent, it happens to all of us. This is a good touch, as it helps us feel empathy for the older Syl.

Syl's interactions with Muurine spoke to truth and were very natural.

Her musings near the end made perfect sense and were quite poignant, shedding more light on her transformation. It seems she still burns a torch for Thadon.

This is wonderful to read!

I don't think I could say it better than SubRosa did. She pulled out everything in this chapter that I planned to comment on - and said it better than I could have, lol.

In the poigniency of that last scene is the confession that may be her reason for shoving everyone away - her feelings for Thadon. I wondered when that would begin again, and hope the story won't skip to it already in full swing. I would love to hear the details on their re-connection.

AWESOME WRITE !!! WOO HOO !!!

SubRosa: What a disappointment, right? No more parties, no more sex, no more goth makeup! Ada is laying down the law once again, but will Syl submit? She can only take so much confinement before she needs to break free--a bird cannot do well trapped inside a tiny gilded cage. You hit it right when you pointed out the changes in Syl's relationship with Muurine, also. Eloquently spoken!

Acadian: Though I don't want to do it too often, I do like having her swing back to the present sometimes as she writes. Hinting at what is to come while offering a little more depth into her current thoughts and feelings about her past is essential to her character, I think.

And that torch she burns for Thadon is surely what gets them both into trouble at the end. Sheogorath will not tolerate it forever, though he does so enjoy toying with them and watching them squirm. In many ways, I intend to paint Sheogorath as something of a villain in this story, as he rightly is. However, even he is cursed with madness, so he is a likeable villain--we feel torn right along with Syl, as far as the Madgod is concerned...

mALX: Yes, SubRosa has an excellent and beautiful way of speaking--she pulls it all out so nicely in the way she writes, I agree.

And I'm so glad you noticed the struggle in Syl-the pushing and pulling of everyone in her life, as she grows and develops will be a key feature in her story. In a way, she is tormented by the struggle of good and evil, more so than most people perhaps, because of the Realm of madness... Her spirit is good and light, but the insanity which inflicts her fights to consume her in its darkness. We see the result of it in the game, somewhat, of course.

And not to worry--there is a great deal to cover before I get to the end. I'll cover most of Syl's life between the first and second books, so there is much more to come!



Chapter 6.1--Matchmaker

Sneaking out of the palace after my father had told me no more parties was entirely impossible, as he had a Dark Seducer posted right outside my door like a sentinel, day and night. Muurine was chastised for allowing me to go, even though I swore to my father that she knew nothing about it. He knew better than to believe us, and he sent Muurine away, saying that I had no need for a governess anymore. She went back to living at her uncle’s house again, so she was still nearby, and Father always allowed her to visit. At least this way she had more freedom to do as she pleased, and she didn’t have to be so tied down to raising me, especially now that I was grown.

My father promised that if he saw enough improvement in my studies, I may be allowed to go out on occasion, with an escort and a chaperone, to make sure no one might try to harm me. But what he would consider satisfactory improvement was nearly impossible to accomplish, and my life became dull and tedious. I needed an escape—a way out of this pointless existence. But with the Dark Seducer standing guard over me everywhere I went, that seemed to be out of the question, and the only thing I could do to enjoy myself was to go into the practice chamber to work on my combat skills, which had been greatly reduced because of my neglect.

Most of the time I stuck with blades and bows, both of which I had developed a passion for. I enjoyed hunting with my father from time to time, but he had lost interest of late, and he would not allow me to go out alone, so I was on the verge of giving up archery altogether. But then an old friend showed up, right in the nick of time.

Sindorin had not been to Crucible in nearly seven years. He was little changed since that time—but I was a completely different story. Now that I was a grown woman of seventeen, Sindorin didn’t even recognize me when Muurine brought him to the palace the day he arrived for a visit. I had been out walking the palace grounds—the closest thing to freedom I got anymore—when they came in the door from Crucible. He took one look at me, and he was swept away. He stopped in his tracks and looked at me with his mouth agape and his eyes wide with attraction. Muurine stood silently when I approached them, waiting for him to figure out who I was on his own.

“Good day, madwoman,” he said, bowing politely and pressing my hand to his lips. He could barely take his eyes off me, and I can’t begin to express how good it made me feel—finally, after all those years, he saw me not as a child, but as a woman.

“Good day,” I replied with a lady-like dip, looking at him intently, and waiting for him to realize who I was. Unlike Muurine, though, I wasn’t patient enough to wait, so I dropped a subtle hint. “It is so good to see you again, Sindorin of Ashwood. It has been so long.”

He looked at me for a moment, completely dumbfounded. “Sorry, do I…do I know you?”

Muurine choked back a laugh while I smiled with amusement at his confusion. Then I said, “Have you forgotten me already? It has only been seven years. I’ve not changed so much, except, perhaps, that I have grown…”

Realizing suddenly who I was, he gasped and looked me over, surprised and perhaps even a bit uncomfortable. “Syl?! By the Madgod, look at you! You’re all grown up!”

“Does this surprise you?”

“Well, no; I mean, ah…I just wasn’t expecting you to be so…so grown up…”

Muurine shook her head and chuckled, placing her hands on his shoulders, but speaking to me. “He means appealing.”

“No, I don’t!” he protested, blushing a bit. Then he turned back to me, and said, “I mean…it’s not that you’re…not appealing; it’s just that…well, I’m sure it would not be appropriate for me to…. Aunt Muurine, you’re not helping!”

“Why don’t we go inside,” I suggested, trying to ease his discomfort. “I’m sure my father would be glad to see you.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” he agreed. Then we all started toward the palace.

As we walked up the stairs together, Muurine turned to me, and whispered, “He means appealing.”

I giggled and glanced over at Sindorin, who seemed all too embarrassed and uncomfortable. Then we went inside the House of Dementia to see my father. He was glad to see Sindorin, as he had always been fond of him. He was like the son that my father had never had, and the two of them got along perfectly in those days.

After catching up with my father for awhile, Sindorin excused himself and went out to the palace grounds alone. He seemed to be in a more solemn mood than what was normal for him, and Muurine prompted me to follow after him when my father became distracted again with you know who….

Sindorin was standing on the lower battlements, leaning on the railing and gazing pensively out at the waterfalls that cascaded from the mountains nearby. He didn’t hear me approaching, so I startled him when I said, “I thought you had left.”

He turned his head to look at me as he startled, then he let out a sigh and stood up, smiling faintly as he tried to avoid looking at me. “No, I was…just getting some fresh air.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About what’s bothering you,” I replied. “Or, am I mistaken?”

“No,” he said with a sigh. “You’re not mistaken….” He paused for a moment and looked up at me finally, and I could see the longing in his eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting you to have changed so much.”

“Does this displease you?”

“No, not at all. On the contrary, it…it overwhelms me….”

“In what way?”

He looked at me again for a moment, and then asked, “Do you really not know, Syl? Are you truly that naïve; or are you simply playing with me as women often like to do with men?”

I didn’t reply. I honestly didn’t know what to say. It was a bit of both—I was delighted by his attraction to me, and I longed to hear him come right out and say it. But I also had a hard time believing it was true, if only because I had dreamed of this for so long. Finally, he sighed and let out a despairing groan.

“You were only a child when I saw you last! And now…you’re a woman. And you’re…you’re…. By the Madgod! You’re beautiful. I never thought I could have these kinds of feelings for you, Syl. I’m thirty-seven years old, and you’re just a child to me. And yet…you’re not. You…you’re the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen, and I feel… like it’s wrong for me to feel this way for you. And yet…nothing feels more right.”

He became quiet suddenly, and he dared himself to look up at me again, curious to see how I was going to react to his outburst of despair. I stood there, quiet and serene, watching him thoughtfully as he examined my face for any hint of what I was thinking. Then he let out a sigh of frustration. “Madgod, you’re impossible to read!” he cried, throwing up his hands and turning away in shame, saying, “I’m sorry I ever said anything. I should have known better….”

Before he could leave or say anything more, I reached up and took him by the face, bringing his lips down to mine and kissing him passionately. He was stunned, but then he settled into the kiss and wrapped him arms around me, kissing back. When we stopped, he looked at me with question, unsure of what to say, or even to think. I smiled.

“Don’t you see?” I asked quietly, with tears in my eyes. “I have longed for the moment you would say these things to me, ever since I was that little girl on your shoulder. I just never thought this day would ever really come.”

He looked at me a moment longer, in disbelief. Then a soft smile spread across his lips, and he bent down to kiss me again. Everything about that moment seemed perfect, and I never wanted it to end. Nothing could have brought me down from that place of sheer bliss—until we heard Muurine’s voice coming from behind us, and we both came back to reality.

“Well, what have we here?” she was asking, a knowing smile on her lips. “Is that my nephew locking lips with my Syl? How exquisite! The two of you would make a charming couple, I daresay.”

We were both embarrassed that we’d been caught, but at least it was only Muurine. If it had been anyone else, it might not have gone over so well.

Sindorin let out a sigh, and said, “Hello, Aunt Muurine. What is it that brings you our way?”

“Oh, I was just wondering where you’d both gone off to…. But now I know.”

“How convenient,” he said, rolling his eyes a little, knowing full well that she’d had every intention of finding us together, in one way or another. Muurine was very sly like that, and I’d confided in her my feelings for Sindorin, so it didn’t surprise me in the least.

“Well,” she said with a smile, “forgive me for having interrupted. I suppose I’ll have to be more careful where I take my walks from now on.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Sindorin, still terribly embarrassed and somewhat annoyed.

Muurine turned to me now, and said, “Syl, my dear, your father is wondering where you’ve run off to. It’s time for you to resume your lessons.”

I sighed with annoyance, and then turned to Sindorin. “Perhaps we shall talk some more later?”

He smiled at me, and I felt the fluttering in my stomach that I’d read about in Alanwen’s romance novels. I was certainly in love with him.

“I should like that very much,” he said in reply to my question. Then he took my hand and pressed it to his lips, saying, “Sheogorath bless you, for all of your days.”

I smiled timidly then hurried off to the palace to resume my lessons for the rest of the day.



“Well, well,” said Muurine, after Syl had left her and Sindorin on the palace grounds. She was giving her nephew a knowing look, and it made him a little uncomfortable.

“What?” he asked, when she continued to smile at him.

“You tell me,” she replied. “This was rather unexpected.”

“Oh, come on, Muurine,” he said with a sigh. “Don’t tell me you didn’t at least have an inkling that this was going to happen. I know my dearest auntie better than that. I’ve seen how your mind works for all of my life. You were hoping to set me up with Syl, weren’t you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” she replied; “not exactly… I mean, sure, I had hoped that you would both take a liking toward one another, now that you are both adults; but I wasn’t expecting anything so soon.”

“You didn’t know that she’s been harboring an infatuation with me ever since she was a child?” She wasn’t going to lie to him, but she wasn’t ready to admit to it. Sindorin knew, and he shook his head, a little amused. “That’s what I thought.”

“She has spoken to me about the subject,” she finally admitted, “but how did you know?”

“She told me, shortly before you ‘stumbled’ upon us,” he replied. “After I told her how much of a shock it was to me that I should suddenly feel this way for her…I mean, I barely know her.”

“She’s the same girl you knew before, Sindorin.”

“No, but she’s not. She is a woman now—a lady. And that’s what intrigues me all the more. She’s the same in all the ways that she ought to be; but in so many ways, she’s an entirely different person. It’s like I’m meeting her again for the very first time, yet the connection is still intact from before.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” said Muurine, with a smile. “You’re in love with her.”

“Am I?”

“I can see it. There is love blossoming between you and Syl, and it’s beautiful.”

“But is that possible?”

“Of course it is, Sindorin. Do you doubt your own heart?”

“No, but it seems too good--.”

“To be true?” she finished for him. “You’ll find, my boy, that sometimes the hardest things to believe are the ones which are closest to truth. That’s what makes them so special, I think. You just need to trust what is in your own heart, and never stray from it.”

“Since when did you become such a wise-woman?” he asked in a tease.

“Oh, hush,” she replied, rolling her eyes a little. “Come on; let’s get back to the house. We’ll return later, when Syl has finished with her lessons. She’ll most likely want to see you when she gets done with her studies, I’m sure. She’s been waiting for you for a long time.”

So she finally gets Sindorin to look at her the same way he does ... Earana. I wonder if it will be all she dreamed of, or if she will find herself pushing him away as well? Great Write !!

How wonderful to see Sindorin. Even better to see that he and Syl seem to feel the same way about each other now.

Delightfully presented!

Nit: 'He took one look at me, and he was swept away.'
How did Syl know he was swept away? This passage screams for you to show us what Sindorin did, and let us draw the possible conclusion about his state of mind. Remember, you are in Syl's perspective here, so have her share with us what she saw.

Ah, yes! Thank you for that! I have now changed it in my post and in my archives!

Syl's finally getting the passion she so desired for the past several chapters, what a turnaround!

Syl really did get into that adolescent pandering for a while there. Parties, drink, drugs, sex, deception, and robbery? I think you covered the lot there (well, except for Grand Theft Equine). It was good to see some sense return to her in the end, though, even if it came by the edge of a knife. Throw away your dignity, and you paint a very clear target on your back for those who have done the same.

I hope Syl's life starts getting better, but knowing how, in the present, she is a paranoid wreck, I really can't be sure. At least she could have a good life for a small amount of time before the Champion of Madness comes along and ruins her life.

I'm caught up again, as well.

Sindorin returns. I hope the servants can clean up the drool he left on the palace grounds before someone slips on it. Hmm, I wonder if he is the son of Uncle Leo?

and the two of them got along perfectly in those days.
In those days? I think I see some foreshadowing here of future problems. Perhaps when Daddy learns that Sindorin and Syl have been locking lips on the battlements? Such a very sweet scene that way btw. This being the Shivering Isles, it can only end very badly of course. Muurine's "accidentally" stumbling upon the pair is another foreshadowing of that.

mALX--Thanks! We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

Acadian--Thanks! Sindorin was Syl's first love, so of course I had to bring him back into the story for a little while.

TK--Will her life get better, you ask? Probably not. I am glad you are enjoying her tale of sex, blood, and madness, TK. There is so much more to come--hopefully you continue to hang around!

SubRosa--lmao! Yes, I suppose there could be a few broken necks... But then again, the Demented seem rather fond of breaking necks, so maybe they left it with the hope that someone would slip on it?



Chapter 6.2—The Caged Bird

I studied for a couple of hours straight, but all I could think about was Sindorin. The way it had felt to kiss him, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at me with yearning—it was just like everything I had read about, and I had never felt this way before now. It was exciting and new, and I felt like I was living in a dream. I could hardly concentrate on my studies, but I knew that my father expected progress, so I tried to focus on what I was supposed to be doing. And yet, I couldn’t stop my mind from straying to my girlish fantasies again. I wondered, what would it be like when he made love to me for the very first time? He had plenty of experience, I was sure of it, as he’d spent a lot of time with other ladies of my father’s court who were eligible, and I had seen him flirting often when I was a child. I had been filled with envy then, but now I was the one he wanted, and I was thrilled by this new stage of my life.

Sitting at my desk, a book laying there open before me, I was in the middle of my fantasizing when a Seducer approached me. I sat up and cleared my throat uncomfortably, feeling my face grow hot as I hoped that the Seducer could not somehow read my mind and see the things of which I had been thinking.

She bowed respectfully, paying no attention to what I was supposed to have been doing, and saying, “His Lordship wishes to see you, my lady. He is waiting in the garden for you presently.”

“Thank you,” I said, putting on my regal exterior, while inside I was still incredibly embarrassed.

As the Seducer walked out, I got up and closed the book, then made my way to the private garden, using the entrance that was just a short distance from my quarters. My father was waiting, just as the Seducer had said; I got down on my knees, kissing his hands in a respectful greeting, as usual. He smiled down at me and waited, then helped me to rise. He had me take his arm and we began walking together around the garden.

“It is good to see Sindorin again after so many years, isn’t it?” he began. Oh, Madgod, did he know? But he continued, saying, “I have always thought of him like a son, you know.”

“Yes, Ada,” I replied in a quiet voice. “You’ve known him since he was a boy, have you not?”

He nodded once, and then cleared his throat. “He is a fine marksman, Syl. If you would like, I will allow the two of you to go out riding together, so you can practice your archery some more with him. I know you haven’t been out in a long time, and it would be good for you to get some practice again.”

“I would like that very much, Ada.”

“Good. Then it is all settled. You will spend your afternoons riding with Sindorin, for as long as he is willing to remain in Crucible. I have already spoken to him on this matter, and he was open to it. Of course, you will be chaperoned.”

“Of course,” I replied, hiding my disappointment. “I would expect as much.”

My father smiled and patted my hand, but he remained thoughtful for awhile. Finally, I asked if there was something else he wished to talk to me about. He sighed a bit uncomfortably, and then stopped to look me in the eye. “Syl, I want you to be happy,” he began. “You know that, yes?”

“Yes,” I replied, still a bit confused. “Ada, is something the matter?”

He sighed, then straightened himself and cleared his throat, seeming to put it behind him. “Never mind…. You should return to your studies. Perhaps we will talk another time? For now, I have much work to do.”

He bent down to kiss me on the forehead, then smiled at me. “You look so like your mother….”

I was pleased with this, and I smiled delightedly. Then my smile faded, and I said, “I miss her.”

His eyes were teary, and I was surprised at how vulnerable he seemed; it was so unlike him…. He nodded slowly, and softly said, “I miss her, too; more than you know…. Well, to your studies then. I will see you at supper tonight. Try not to be late, as you know it displeases me.”

“Yes, Ada, I will try.”

“Good. I shall see you then.”

He squeezed my hand, and then walked toward the main hall, leaving me there in the garden alone. His Seducers continued their patrolling, paying no more attention to me than was necessary, and I leaned back against a boulder there and sighed. I had never seen my father that way before, and it worried me. What was he thinking just then? Why had he looked at me that way, almost as if he were looking at a ghost from his past? He claimed that he missed my mother, yet only days before I had heard him telling Alanwen how glad he was to be rid of her. It had injured me to hear that, but I had tried to ignore it. And now he was telling me that he missed her? Was he lying to me, or to Alanwen? And whatever the case was, why?

******

The next afternoon, I went out with Sindorin, and we rode side by side, smiling at each other frequently, as lovers often do when they are unable to express their feelings any other way. The two Seducers followed behind us just a short distance away, and I knew they had been instructed to be sure nothing happened between Sindorin and I. They watched us closely, ready to report anything to my father which might be considered indecent. We laughed about it with each other, but it really made us considerably nervous.

When he helped me to hold my bow, he knew I had been studying archery for several years, but he used this as an opportunity to get close to me. He stood behind me, with his body so close to mine, and I’m sure the Seducers knew what we were doing. They knew I wasn’t a novice archer, so I hardly needed him to instruct me on the proper stance, but we did it anyway, as there was nothing they could do about it.

He placed his hands upon my waist, to straighten me properly, and I struggled to concentrate on my bow, instead of his hands on my body. When I was ready, I shot at the target he had posted on a tree, and I purposely missed. He knew what I was up to, and he smiled a bit then came over to ‘show me’ the proper stance again, this time helping me to shoot. It was just a little game we were playing, as it was all that we could get away with in such circumstances, but we were hardly interested in archery at that moment.

After I had shot a few arrows, he took me over to retrieve them all, pretending to be explaining to me what I needed to improve on, while the Seducers continued to keep an eye on me. When we were far enough away that they couldn’t overhear us, though, he stopped talking archery, and said, “I missed you terribly. I had hoped I would get to see you again last night, but you were still at your studies.”

I smiled and raised my brow a little. “Last night?”

“Well, I mean…yesterday before supper. I went to the palace to see you, but your father told me you were unable to accept any visitors.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “He won’t let me have any fun. He says I don’t study hard enough, but I’m studying all the time. If he’d just let up a little, and allow me to go out from time to time, I might actually study harder, because it would not get so boring, as it does when I’m at it all day long.”

He reached out to touch my cheek, and I closed my eyes to his touch. “Have patience, little Syl. He’s your father. He can’t help being hard on you, because he wants you to have a successful life.”

“Success at what? If he had his way, I’d be locked in the palace until he could marry me off to one of his courtiers. He doesn’t want me to be free. I’m like a little songbird in a gilded cage, and he’s my captor.”

Sindorin glanced over at the Seducers, who were still watching us like hawks. “Madgod, don’t they ever blink?”

I smiled. “My father has them watching us, to make sure you don’t do anything indecent to me.”

He blushed and cleared his throat uncomfortably, saying, “I would never take your innocence from you.”

“I’m not that innocent,” I replied, meeting his eyes before retrieving my arrows from the target and heading back to continue the practice.

I glanced back over my shoulder at him, and I could see he was still stunned, as he leaned on the tree. When he recovered from his surprise, he stood up and followed, clearing his throat again and saying, “Well, shall we continue with our lesson?”

“You’re the teacher,” I replied, casting him a smile that seemed to make him struggle to concentrate.

“All right, then,” he said, trying to clear his head. “We shall do a few more rounds, and then we’ll return to the palace. What do you say?”

“That sounds marvelous,” I answered, and he cast me an almost chastising look when I continued giving him an enticing stare. If only we hadn’t been chaperoned just then…. But with my father controlling the reigns, when would we not be?

Syl's fantasies over her books were very sweet and refreshing to see. Goodness, she is quite taken with Sindorin!

So Daddy is putting the two of them together! I bet he will regret that. Syl probably too. Sindorin - otoh - will probably not live long enough to do so...


nits:
I was in the middle of my fantasizing when a Seducer approached me with a message from my father.
The bolded part is made redundant by the the Seducer's dialogue. You might consider deleting it.


“You’re the teacher,” I replied, casting him a smile that made it hard for him to concentrate on the lesson, instead of the thoughts that were racing through his mind.
You are slipping out of POV here. Syl would not know if her smile made it hard for Sindorin to concentrate or not, or about what thoughts he might be having. She might guess is all. Remember, we only see what your POV character does, hear what they do, think what they do, etc...

You do a delightful job here of delivering on your theme of a bird in a gilded cage. From Syl's studying daydreaming to the taste of freedom riding and shooting with Sindorin under the watchful gaze of the Seducers.

It is touching to see Syl's hormones in alignment with her heart.

And more mystery surrounding Syl's father. His motivations seem inscrutable, but. . . he is the Lord of Dementia after all.

I have to agree with Acadian here. The heated longings between Syl and Sindorin have to take a back seat in my curiousity over this new mystery with Syl's father !!! Great Write !!!

SubRosa:Oops! I guess I'll have to fix that slip-up! Thanks for pointing it out!

Acadian:If only we could be certain of a lasting, healthy relationship between them... And Syl's father is one of those characters who just seem impossible to figure out... Even I am confusled [sic] by him sometimes, and I'm the one who created him, lol!

mALX:Thanks! I am, as always, pleased to know you are enjoying it!



Chapter 6.3

My father allowed Sindorin to take me on a two-day long hunting expedition over the weekend, and I was thrilled to be given a little more freedom. Of course, we were not allowed to go without a couple of Seducers for chaperones, so we were not completely alone together. Still, we would make the most of it, and we rode out together early one Fredas morning, with enough supplies to last us until Sundas.

After setting up camp, we took our bows and our quivers of arrows and headed away from the camp by foot, followed at a distance by the Seducers. We had chosen to go after grummites for sport, laying low behind some bushes and trees up on a hill outside of Knotty Bramble, one of the caves the grummites inhabited. There weren’t any grummites outside the cave guarding the entrance, which was unusual, so we waited leisurely for some to appear, talking in low voices until we heard their croaking voices as two of them came out of the Bramble.

It was then we turned our attentions to the frog-like grummites that walked upright and acted like primitive human-beings. The two we saw were huge, hulking giants, both of them carrying crude grummite cleavers—their deadliest weapons. They were some of the toughest of grummites—this we could tell by their size more than anything.

Screenshot--Grummite

“Well now, here we are,” Sindorin said in a low voice, readying his bow and watching them closely as they paced around, patrolling near the path to the entrance. “Watch closely, Syl, as I bring them down with one arrow each.”

I rolled my eyes and waited to see him shoot. He got up to his feet, crouching there and making his aim. Then, just when he was about to shoot, I gasped and reached out to grab his ankle, throwing him off and causing him to miss. I laughed quietly and got up as he sighed and looked down at me with annoyance.

“Very funny, Syl. Now you get to be the one to go retrieve the arrow from down in that swamp. I’ll not waste it—these are the best arrows money can buy, and they are very expensive. Much better than your obsidian arrows, I can say that.”

“Let me see them,” I said, holding out my hand. “I have yet to use a bow and arrows that can out do the ones the Dark Seducers use.”

“Be my guest,” he replied, handing me his bow and one of his arrows. “Let’s just see how well you do with these. They’re not what you’re used to, and it takes a lot of practice.”

I smiled faintly as I concentrated on my aim; then I released the arrow and we both watched as it glided gracefully through the air before striking one of the grummites right between the eyes, killing him instantly.

Sindorin was stunned; but then he recovered, and said, “Lucky shot.”

“Oh really? I’ll show you a lucky shot.”

With that, I pulled out one of my own arrows and shot again. This time the arrow went right through the other grummite’s temple, just as it was running over to its dead companion to see what had happened. He also died instantly, and I smiled and handed the bow back to Sindorin.

“Another lucky shot,” I said with a hint of good-humored sarcasm.

Sindorin took the bow and replaced it on his back, chuckling a bit, and saying, “Guess you showed me.”

“I guess I did,” I replied, flashing my eyes at him. “Did you forget how skilled I am with a bow?”

He let out a sigh and chuckled a bit, saying, “You could teach me a thing or two about archery, eh?”

I smiled and then we went down to search the bodies, taking bottles of poisons they had on them, as well as the cleavers they’d had on their belts.

“These weapons should fetch a nice sum at Morga’s don’t you think?” Sindorin asked, holding one of the cleavers up.

I smiled and placed my foot on one of the grummites to pull my arrow from his head. Then, after searching for Sindorin’s lost arrow together, locating it stuck in a stump near the marsh, we returned to our camp with our loot and cooked up the eggs we’d collected from the grummites’ egg sacks, to go with our meal. While the Seducers stood nearby, always on the look-out for danger, we dined on the grummite eggs, dried beef, fresh strawberries, and an assortment of fire-roasted vegetables, such as onions, fungus stalks, and blister pod caps. Sharing a bottle of cheap wine, we rested together beneath the shade of a willow tree, admiring the beauty of the landscape that surrounded us. Dementia is truly the most exquisite place in all existence, and I can’t imagine any place being more beautiful.

Sindorin laid back, resting on his elbow, while I rested upon my back with my eyes closed in the afternoon sunlight that drifted through the leaves on the tree as a gentle breeze blew. As I lay there, I felt his hand begin to gently stroke my cheek, and I looked up to see him smiling down at me, his crisp blue eyes brimming with pure love and admiration. I felt like the luckiest woman in all the Isles as he gazed at me that day, the afternoon sun shining down through the trees.

That night, when darkness fell and the Seducers stood guard over our camp, Sindorin snuck into my tent. He was wet from the rain that had begun to fall an hour or so earlier, and his loose hair fell over his face. I was completely in awe of this beautiful man who stood there before me—the man I had loved for so long. When he came to me, slipping his arms around my waist and drawing me close to his body, I was entirely swept away. This time, it felt like all the romantic stories I had read. I found that night, to my greatest delight, that love and sex could, in fact, be the same.

******

My father didn’t seem to notice the change between Sindorin and me after we returned from our hunting trip, and we continued to go out every afternoon together. However, he now sent three Seducers with us, and I knew that he suspected something. I felt eyes on me constantly, and it became rather annoying to have so little freedom living under his roof. The only way I could possibly escape that now, would be to move out, but that was never going to happen, as my father would never let me get out from under his authority. I felt like I would be trapped forever, but at least there was hunting and the archery lessons—the closest thing to freedom I ever got.

“Do you love me?” I asked Sindorin point-blank one afternoon, while out on our excursion, and he looked into my eyes when he gave his answer.

“You know that I do.”

“Then why don’t you ask my father to marry me? Then we can be together, and he’ll never bother us again.”

“Marriage?” he asked, straightening uncomfortably. “You—you want to marry me?”

I felt my face grow hot, and I realized I had spoken too brazenly. Muurine had told me many a time never to speak to a man about commitment unless he broached the subject first. Madgod, I was such a fool! “Well, I mean…it was just…. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know what to say, and I felt like I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t let him see it, so I turned away and began heading for our horses, ready to leave.

“Syl, wait!” he called, running after me and grabbing my arm to stop me. The Seducers both became more alert, watching more closely as they perceived a possible threat. Sindorin realized himself and backed down, but they still watched us to be sure nothing happened, and he spoke in a voice only just above a whisper.

“Syl,” he said again, glancing at the Seducers for a moment, “I didn’t mean to make you feel as if marriage was not an option. I love you, and I want to spend my life with you, but…you’re still very young, and--.”

“I’m still only a child to you,” I cut in, not even bothering to lower my voice. “Don’t worry, I get it. You want to marry someone old and boring, not someone like me!”

The Seducers couldn’t help but listen now, as I was speaking rather loudly, and Sindorin stopped talking quietly, too. “Syl, now wait a minute! You know that’s not true. I want to marry no one but you, but you’re only seventeen. No elf is ever happy in marriage at such a young age. You need to experience more before you will be ready to settle down with anyone.”

“I’ve experienced plenty! If you think I’m just an ignorant and naïve little girl, then you know nothing about me at all. I know what I want, and it is you. I love you, Sindorin; I have loved you for as long as I have known you. What more do I need than that?”

Forgetting about the trouble we might get in, he pulled me into his arms and started kissing me passionately. But then he pulled away just as suddenly and grabbed the reins of his horse, leaving me stunned and rejected.

“What are you doing?” I asked, running to catch up as he began heading back to the road. “Why did you stop?”

“We can’t do this, Syl. I can’t have you.”

“Because of the Seducers?”

“Because of your father,” he replied, looking up at the palace on the cliff behind the city, both of which created a backdrop for all of this.

I looked at the palace, and I could see a figure standing by one of the windows on the palace grounds. I couldn’t see the person’s features, but I knew it was him. He had been watching us all this time, for who knows just how long.

“Come on,” Sindorin said to me. “We have to get back. I’m sure that he’ll be waiting for us when we get there.”

I took my horse’s reins and followed silently, feeling overwhelmed and wanting to cry. Part of me hated my father for doing this to me, but the other part of me strove only to please him. I feared what he would do to Sindorin, and to me, if that was him in the window, watching the whole scene from afar. I just prayed he would be lenient to us both.

Aww, love blossoming and blooming! I'm so glad that Syl's emotions enhanced and allowed her to fully enjoy their time in the tent.

And some grummite hunting!

I'm curious to see what happens next regarding Sindorin and Syl's father.

Nit:
'But then he pulled away just as suddenly and grabbed the reigns of his horse,
I took my horse’s reigns and followed silently, '
In both these passages, you want the word, reins instead of reigns.

A bosmer bowgirl, with a faint smile? How perfect! Syl is indeed growing up, showing that she had indeed learned something after all. Perhaps she will employ that archery skill to rid her father of that concubine?

Ahh, young love, and the first argument over the future. But worse, being caught by daddy, which I had not expected to happen for a little longer. It looks like Sindorin will be the entertainment at the next party!

Acadian:Oh, thank you for that nit! I hadn't even realized there were two different kinds of reigns! lol

SubRosa:Not a bad idea, employing her archery skills against Alanwen...




Chapter 6.4—Freedom at a Price

My father was not waiting for us on the palace grounds, as we had feared, but he was waiting in the main hall. He looked at both of us with disappointment and fury, and he ordered me to go to my quarters where we would talk when he had gotten through speaking with Sindorin. I knew better than to disobey, though I feared for Sindorin, and I went to my quarters to wait nervously there.

Half an hour had passed before my father came to me, and I trembled when my door opened and I saw him there. He seemed to have cooled down some, though the disappointment was still all over his face, and I was ashamed that I had let him down. At the same time, I felt that he was being unfair, because I loved Sindorin more than my life itself.

After closing the door, my father came over to stand before me, and I kept my head down in shame, as I knew he expected of me. To raise my head or to meet his eye would have been seen as defiance, and I was expected to remain submissive, as he was not only my father, but also my Duke.

“You have displeased me yet again with your unwillingness to follow my rules,” he began, his voice cold, stinging at me like ice. “All I have asked is that you act like a decent young lady, but you can’t even keep your skirts down long enough to listen.”

“Ada, it was only a kiss,” I started to say, defending myself without raising my voice, so as to stay submissive. But then he slapped me with the back of his hand and I fell back upon my bed, my eyes welling up with burning tears as he continued to chastise me, yelling loudly.

“I am your father! You have disobeyed me for the last time! I don’t care what you think of my rules; as long as you are living in my House, you will obey them without question! No more friends, no more parties, no more hunting with Sindorin! You will stay in your quarters, day and night, except when I say otherwise! You will take your meals in here, alone, and you will continue with your studies under strict supervision. If you so much as bat your eyes at a man, I will have him executed, and you will be beaten! Is that clear?”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely able to speak.

“Good. Then your sentence begins right now. Get to studying. I want to see progress in your knowledge of the history of the Realm. You are to read about the fall of Vitharn, and you will be questioned in the morning, to be sure that you have learned something from it.”

He began toward the door, but I stood up, and managed to ask, “What about Sindorin?”

He stopped and took in a breath, but he didn’t even turn to face me. “He has been sent away and banished from the House of Dementia. You are not to see him again, so forget about him and get to work.”

After saying that much, my father left, and I collapsed onto the bed and wept for over an hour.



Over the next week, I was prevented from leaving my quarters, just as my father had said, and not even Muurine was allowed to see me. I wanted so badly to know if Sindorin was still staying in Crucible, and if he was all right, but without having anyone to talk to, I was left with nothing but worry and speculation. My only comfort was the knife from my alchemy equipment, and I cut myself often, whenever I felt overwhelmed and empty. It kept me sure that I was alive, as my current situation made me feel like I was dead. I thought of Cutter and my other friends every time I cut myself, and I realized that it had been months since the last time I had been allowed to speak to any of them. I wondered how they were, and felt betrayed that they were probably still having the time of their lives without me. How I envied their freedom.

I thought my captivity was going to go on forever; a week already felt like an eternity in and of itself. But then my father sent a Seducer to escort me to his garden, and it was the first time I had seen daylight and fresh air in a week. I realized then that I had begun to feel sick, being cooped up inside for so long and the sun on my skin was revitalizing. I didn’t care so much about my skin freckling, and I relished the warmth and the light that shined down on me then.

When my father entered, I could see right away that he was somewhat nervous; but what worried me was that he also seemed almost giddy. He looked more cheerful than I had seen him in many years, and I wasn’t sure what to think of that. Should I be relieved, or afraid?

He stopped before me, and I knelt down to kiss his hand, but then he helped me back up very quickly and embraced me, kissing my forehead the way he always had. I looked at him curiously, suspiciously, and I waited for him to speak, knowing that it was not allowed for me to address him first.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” he said, though I didn’t really have much of a choice. “How are you faring, my dearest daughter? I’m terribly sorry that I didn’t get to see you yesterday at all, but I was rather busy.”

“I am well,” I replied in a meek and almost child-like voice. “Did something happen?”

“Well, yes,” he said vaguely. “But it was not something terrible.”

“Pray, tell me what it is? Should I be rejoicing?”

“I hope that you shall,” he replied, smiling proudly. “Syl, I have asked Alanwen to marry me. She has agreed to become my wife.”

Suddenly I felt as if a wall had tumbled down upon me. The news hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I was stunned. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to slit her throat from ear to ear. She was going to take my Ada away, just as she had been planning ever since she killed my mother. But I was not going to let her. Somehow I had to stop it.

I shook my head in disbelief, saying, “No. No, Ada, you cannot marry her. That woman is a witch! She is a murderer! She killed my mother, and she would kill me, too, if she had the chance!”

“Now, Syl, Alanwen is a good and caring woman. We’ve gone over this many times before—she had nothing to do with your mother’s death. If you’d get over your hatred of her, you would see the woman I see in her, and I love her.”

“She doesn’t have a caring bone in her body!” I snapped. “No. You cannot marry her, Ada. I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?”

“I will not give you my blessing to marry that witch!”

“I did not ask for your blessing, Syl, nor your approval. I am going to marry Alanwen, whether you like it or not. She is the love of my life, and she makes me very happy.”

“Damn you, and that woman!” I spat. “She will not be my step-mother. I would sooner slit my own throat than call her Mother!”

“Don’t you dare say that!” he cried, slapping me rather abruptly across the face and taking me by surprise. My eyes filled with tears, and I looked at him in shock. He realized himself and began to apologize, but I pulled away from him.

“You and your harlot-bride can both rot in hell, for all I care!” I cried. “I won’t be a part of this!”

I ran away from my father as he cried after me, and I only stopped when I ran into Alanwen, who had been listening by the door.

“You!” I sneered. “I am going to kill you!”

“Gelebor!” she cried, as she turned and began to flee.

I tore after her then, and grabbed her by her hair as soon as I caught up to her, yanking so hard that she fell to the floor. She looked up at me, terrified, but unable to say anything.

“Get up,” I demanded. “Get up, you salacious witch! You deceitful little worm! Get up!”

I reached down and grabbed her by her arms to pull her up, and then I whipped her against the wall and squeezed my hands around her long, slender neck. “You came into my home to destroy my family, killing my mother, and now you think you can take my father away from me, too?”

“Syl! What in Oblivion are you doing?” My father found us in the corridor and ran to us, grabbing me by the arms to pull me away. He practically threw me at the Seducers that had followed him, and they held me tight as he went to help Alanwen. She sank to the floor, coughing for air, but I hadn’t been able to choke her long enough to kill her. Muurine had just happened to show up as I was chasing Alanwen, so she stood by and watched the scene, taking in every little detail for the latest gossip.

After checking on Alanwen, my father turned to me, glaring coldly as he marched up to slap me across the face. “How dare you attack my fiancé, you ungrateful little wretch!” He stopped and continued glaring at me, and it sent chills down my spine. He had never looked at me the way he did just then, and it reminded me of the way he had always glared at my mother before beating her.

“Get out of my House,” he said, gritting his teeth just to keep from hitting me. “You are not welcome here any longer!”

My heart ripped in two. He was disowning me. He was abandoning me, for the woman who had murdered his wife? How could he do this? How could he choose her over me—his own daughter?

“But…Ada….” I reached up to him, pleading with my eyes, but he turned away.

“Go. Before I change my mind and have you thrown in the dungeon for this treachery! You have cut me deeply with this betrayal, Syl. Leave now; do as you please. But don’t come back to this House until you are ready to obey me, and accept my decision.”

Muurine stepped through the Seducers, who had released their tight grip on me. She took me in her arms, and whispered softly, “Come on, Syl. Come. You can stay with me, and Uncle Leo. Come.”

I let her lead me out, but I felt numb and betrayed. I thought my life was over that day, and a part of it was. I was no longer Ada’s faerie princess anymore. Alanwen had finally won. He was all hers.