First things first...
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mALX - You needn't apologize for getting behind. RL has a terrible habit of biting our backsides when we would rather it didn't. I'm just glad that normalcy has returned to your neck of the woods. Thanks so much for continuing to follow the story.
Geez, I hate to see him tackle Bleak Falls Barrow with only a bow and 24 arrows! Urk! -- Fear not...Of course, Val has no idea yet, but there will be plenty of ancient Nordic arrows for him to pick up in Bleak Falls Barrow.
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Acadian - Val did indeed have his senses teased as well, almost to a fault! I loved the quip about being in over his head being easy for a Bosmer.
Thank you for the compliment on the opening.
Val needs a ‘dispel cooties’ spell to cast on strange bedrolls – very handy. -- A potion would be more Val's speed (Tamrielic Rid-A-Bug?)
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SubRosa - Wow Ms. Rosa! You have given a wealth of arrowhead information, and it has pointed me to some very interesting articles on the history of such. Thanks so much!
I had to laugh at the poor orc though, losing his footing on the steps and falling! Easy enough to believe though. -- I know...I have always pictured orc bandits as big bumbling buffoons. Strong in the extreme, but not very coordinated or intelligent.
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Darkness Eternal - Welcome back and thank you for rejoining!
Interlude: My writing style of often like this. I personally enjoy it that way. I just find the use of first person narration difficult, but it certainly gives us a tale through the eyes of the character. -- The main reason I write in first person is exactly that. I find it easier to relate the protagonist’s feelings in first person. But I wanted the Interludes to be third person because Val is not relating the story. And speaking of Interludes...
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Thanks again to all of you for your kind words. This next installment will be another Interlude. To save you from having to go back and look at the dates on the first one, I'll tell you that Val is 3 in the first part and 7 in the second part...so here goes...I hope you enjoy it.
AUTHORS NOTE - This post has been edited from its original issue. I need to thank SubRosa for her invaluable help in resolving a "head-hopping" POV in the narrative. I have edited this to reflect the changes that she so helpfully pointed out. You rock SubRosa!
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Interlude 2
16th Last Seed, 4E153Valrimor sat at the table, scribbling with a piece of charcoal on the back side of an old copy of The Black Horse Courier. Elli was doing some cleaning around the house, and dusting was the task at hand.
“Ma?” he said to his mother, in the way that young children do before they pose a question.
“Yes, son?”
“Where’s my da?”
The question came when Ellinar was utterly unprepared for it, and completely defenseless. Her heart suddenly ached again, as it had every night for the past year and a half. Tears began to well in her eyes, and she had to turn away, feigning that she had gotten some dust in them.
“He’s away on a job,” she replied.
“What’s a job?” Val asked.
Elli sighed, pausing a moment to ponder explaining a job in terms that Val could understand, and then said, “It’s what people do to earn money, so they can buy food and clothes.”
“Oh,” he said, and returned to his masterpiece, adding a swirl here and a jagged line there. Without looking up from his work, the boy asked another question.
“When is he coming home?”
Now tears trickled down Elli’s cheeks. Her bottom lip quivered and her voice broke a bit when she answered him, “Soon, son. Very soon, I hope.”
“Good,” said Val, then held up his work of art with a proud smile, “Look ma!”
Elli wiped her eyes and turned toward her son. She wished that the boy looked like Erik, and then felt that familiar pang of guilt she got every time she had such thoughts. She did her best to put on a prideful smile and told Val that it was beautiful.
* * *
21st First Seed, 4E157The mage watched the boy with keen interest. The child was playing with a squirrel. No, playing wasn’t accurate. He was having the squirrel play for him. Of course the mage was aware of the Bosmer ability to command animals, but he had never seen a display like this. The boy was making the squirrel perform tricks and then rewarding it with pine nuts.
“Are you watching this, Varnel?” the mage asked his apprentice.
“Yes indeed, Master. I have never seen the ability used that way before,” Varnel replied, and then asked, “Shall we locate the parents?”
“I do believe so. I would be curious to see if his command of other forms of Magicka is equally as keen,” replied the mage.
Varnel stopped a passing woman and inquired as to where they might find the child’s parents. The woman pointed to a house just a few doors down. The mage directed Varnel to go and get the parents while he stayed and watched the boy further. The Altmer did as the mage requested, while the squirrel completed a double back flip.
“That is truly impressive, young mer,” said the mage, clapping his hands softly.
*****
Valrimor had decided to go outside and play. His mother was in one of her sad moods and she wasn’t much fun when she was like that. He walked up the street to see if his friend could play, but Lang was busy with chores. So Val went to his favorite alone place. It was a rock outcropping behind Hammer & Axe. He sat on the rock and waited for Bushy. It was a squirrel that he had taken to playing with when no one else could play, named for its big bushy tail. Some time back, Val had figured out that he was able to control animals with some sort of thinking trick. It wasn’t long before the squirrel showed up and Val tossed it a pine nut. Then he concentrated real hard and made Bushy do a flip, tossing another nut to it as a reward. After a few more flips and somersaults, Val was smiling and feeling better. Suddenly, he heard clapping. He looked up and saw a hooded man applauding the squirrel.
“That is truly impressive, young mer,” said the man.
“Who are you?” asked Val. The man had a kindly look, with a crooked smile and a light in his eyes.
“My name is Tolfdir,” the man replied, then continued, “It is amazing, what you can get that squirrel to do. Can you do other things with Magicka?”
“I made Bushy run up Miss Armelia’s skirt once, but I got in trouble for that,” said Val.
“No, I meant other Magicka, besides playing with animals.”
*****
Meanwhile, Varnel arrived at the house that the woman had indicated. He was about to knock on the door, secretly hoping that no one would be home. He was not fond of Bosmeri folk. His uncle had been killed by a rebellious tree-hugger when The Dominion had taken over Valenwood. But the Altmer apprentice would not jeopardize his standing by refusing a task from Master Tolfdir, so he dutifully knocked. A Bosmer lady answered the door. She looked as if she may have been crying, but her eyes widened when she saw who had knocked.
“What do the Thalmor want at this house?” she asked contemptuously, sneering on the word “Thalmor”.
“I am not here as a representative of The Dominion, ma’am. I am here at the behest of Master Tolfdir. He would like to speak with you about your boy,” Varnel replied, doing his best to keep a civil tongue after her snide salutation.
“What about him?” Elli asked, and stepped past the Altmer to look for Val. She saw him talking to a man in a hooded robe. “Who is that?”
“That is Master Tolf-”
“Val! Get over here, son,” Elli yelled.
Valrimor started toward his mother with Tolfdir on his heels, and Elli started to move toward Val. The Altmer apprentice grabbed Elli’s arm and said, “Ma’am, we just-”
“Get your hands off me you piece of Aldmeri dung!” raged Ellinar.
Varnel’s hand shot out and slapped Elli’s face hard enough to knock her down. He looked over toward Tolfdir to apologize, but noticed the boy instead. The child was staring at him with daggers for eyes, and blue-white balls of sparks were dancing in his palms.
*****
Valrimor was about to answer Tolfdir’s question about using Magicka when he heard the unmistakable voice of his mother.
“Val, get over here son,” she yelled from near their house.
There was a tall golden skinned elf in a robe similar to Tolfdir’s standing near her. Val stood and excused himself politely as he started walking toward his mother. The tall elf grabbed his mother’s arm and she pulled away abruptly, saying something to the elf. Suddenly, he saw the elf hit his mother and all reason left him. He was enraged in a way that he had never known in his young life. He let out a feral howl as he raised his arms. Lightning shot from both hands in undulating ribbons of blue-white fire. Sparkling tendrils had formed at the ends of the bolts. They had completely wrapped the Altmer’s head, dancing in and out of his eyes and ears. Varnel’s mouth opened in a scream of pain while sparks arced between his teeth. The rest of his body stood rigid as a post.
*****
Tolfdir had asked the boy if he could do other things with Magicka. The young mer responded that he had made the squirrel run up a lady’s skirt once. Chuckling a bit at the thought of it, Tolfdir told the boy that he meant other types of Magicka besides using his Command Animal ability. The boy was about to answer when a woman called out.
“Val, get over here son,” the woman yelled, undoubtedly the boy’s mother.
The boy, whom he now knew to be Val, excused himself politely and started walking toward the woman and Varnel. The mage followed him, looking forward to meeting his mother. Suddenly, the mage saw Varnel strike the woman, knocking her down. Everything else happened so fast that Tolfdir was caught completely by surprise. The boy had let out a yell and raised his arms. Before he knew it, his Altmer apprentice was being shocked to death by an astonishing display of concentrated lightning coming from Val’s outstretched hands. Tolfdir watched in horror for a moment and then gathered his wits enough to cast a Drain Magicka spell at the boy, but he was too late. When the lightning finally stopped, Varnel fell as a puppet whose strings had been severed. He lay with his scorched, eyeless skull gazing toward the sky. The boy seemed to come back to himself and looked at what he had done. He started crying hysterically. When his mother reached him, he jumped into her arms and sobbed uncontrollably.
“I didn’t mean to ma!” he cried into her shoulder.
* * *
22nd First Seed, 4E157Elli’s heart jumped when she heard the knock at the door. It would be the City Guards, come to take the two of them before the magistrate. Because the boy was so young, she would have to answer for his acts. She turned to her son and told him to just sit still and stay quiet, no matter what happened. Valrimor just nodded, with a look of fear and uncertainty. She opened the door, but was surprised to see that it was Tolfdir instead of the Bruma guards.
“Go away! You’ve caused enough harm,” Elli said, and started to close the door. Tolfdir stopped it with a firm hand. Val tensed in his chair.
“Please miss, allow me to enter. I mean no harm to you or the boy. We need to talk,” said Tolfdir.
Reluctantly, Elli gave way, but she admonished the mage against any ill intent and finished by saying, “Remember your friend.”
“He was not my friend,” Tolfdir said as he looked for a seat, “he was my student. I am an instructor at the College of Winterhold.”
“What is it you want with my son?” Elli asked.
“I did not travel all this way just for your son, miss…”
“Ellinar,” she said.
“Ellinar, we came in search of possible candidates for the College. Enrollment is way down ever since the unfortunate disaster in Winterhold. As a matter of fact, going all the way back to the Oblivion Crisis, practice of the arcane arts has fallen off all across Tamriel. This is of great concern to the Arch-Mage at the College. He fears that Tamriel is at risk of not being able to defend herself against daedra or some new arcane threat. So he sent me and my apprentice to recruit likely students. Your son fits that bill, especially after his display yesterday.”
Elli took a moment to absorb all that she had just heard, and then asked, “How much will it cost?”
“Only applicants pay tuition. There is no charge for candidates that we actively recruit. Your only cost would be emotional, as you would not be able to accompany him,” Tolfdir replied.
This held weight with Elli, on both sides of the scale. On the one hand, she would miss Val terribly, even if the boy was looking more and more like her rapist. She wasn’t sure if she could bear the loss of her one remaining true love. On the other hand, money was very tight. She was working as a serving girl and maid at Olav’s Tap and Tack, barely making enough to feed them both. She had gone without on some nights just so her son could eat. He would be well provided for at the College.
Valrimor had been listening to all of this, and when he sensed that his mother was seriously considering it, he spoke up, “You want me to go to a school and learn how to do what I did yesterday?” Panic was creeping into his voice. He turned to his mother then and begged, “Don’t make me go, ma. I made that man burnt and dead. I don’t ever want to do that again. I don’t want to learn how. Please don’t make me go!”
Elli went to her son and held him. Tolfdir looked at them both and tried to further his case.
“I don’t want to teach you
how, boy. I want to teach you control. You seem to already have a grasp on the
how part,” said the mage.
“It only happens when he is angry,” said Elli, “He doesn’t even realize he is doing it.” She related instances of burned toys and flying dishes that occurred in Val’s early years, and then finished with, “Yesterday was the first time it has happened in several years. I thought he was past it, or had learned to control it. It was definitely the first time it has ever been directed at a person.”
Tolfdir continued to press, speaking directly to Val, “I can teach you control. I can help you make sure that you never repeat what happened yesterday.”
“NO!” Val yelled, “I won’t do it. I won’t ever use that again, not even to learn how not to!”
Tolfdir rested his elbow in one hand and stroked his beard with the other for a minute, and then stood and gave a slight bow to the two of them. He went to the door, and then turned to face them again.
“Valrimor, I’ll not force you. Should you ever change your mind, you come to the College of Winterhold and request an audience with Master Tolfdir. Regardless of how far in the future that may be, I can help you, but only if and when you
want that help.” said the mage. He turned to Elli and said, “You need not worry about the magistrate. I have spoken to him and informed him that I would not be pressing charges. I placed all of the blame solely on Varnel’s shoulders. Good day.”
With that, Tolfdir left. Val looked at his mother and promised that he would never do it again. Elli just hugged him and said, “I know, son.”
But she knew better. He had his father’s temper.
Of course in our stories we can ignore the sometimes silly things the game throws our way, but a plausible explanation always makes me grin. (And wish that I’d thought of it! 
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I chuckled a moment when "cuteness" was preceded with "dare I say". Thank you kind sir!
... 
Googling ‘lay vs lie’ can generate some clarity on sorting out the differences of this complex little brain twister. One such site that can explain this better than I, and includes a little chart is here: 
Thank you. <3
But what happened that got them all so upset with drunk Val? I doubt it was the kitchenware.
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