Lord Vivec's Sword-Meeting With Cyrus the Restless
Part One
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Quote:Originally posted by MK
Gather, sit. Drink to Papa and tell Morwha you?re sorry for what you?ve done wickedly this day save for the customary curses allowed towards our enemies, the fair skins and the green skins and the sataks that roll in the dirt with no skins at all. Mostly importantly, listen, here?s another tale of Sura of the Bend?r Mark, the Maverick-Sword of the Crowns, called Cyrus in the tongue of the Septims.
Mind you, this story isn?t necessarily true, for no tale of Cyrus the Restless is true in its entire, and yet that has never really mattered. Indeed, you?ll come to see that sometimes stories that aren?t necessarily true can still sometimes win the day.
Now these were the days after the Tiber War had come to Hammerfell with its banners and phalanxes and its skill at sea, which came to nothing except for treaty, for no empire of men may rule the sons and daughters of Yokuda. We are superior in every way to all the other races of this world and they know it. The Hoon Ding guides us; all others can Make Way.
That is, unless those others do not come from this world at all, and are instead spirits of the Far Shores or the In-Between-- against these gods and demons and mad shapers, all men can be humbled. But is that not the point? Different rules apply to gods and demons and mad shapers.
Of these, I talk now of the demon-king of the Star-Wounded East, Vehk and Vehk the Circle Talker, anon Ansu-Gurleht in Yoku, the God of Makes Us Women, whose powers are so terrible that even Redguards must bend to His will, though foreign and thus benighted; if He comes, we run until we can?t. There is no shame in this; we are allowed to run from disaster; witness the loss of Yokuda, where our running was blessed by windy Tava who filled our sails with escape. And Ansu-Gurleht is surely disaster.
But there was one of us that didn?t run from Him. Cyrus never ran from anything except for the killing of Hakan, and that was so long ago that it doesn?t really count.
***
"Lord Vivec?s Sword-Meeting With Cyrus the Restless"
The captain had them restow the Carrick at Herne and once more at Jabbur before moving into the waters of the Abecean. The map to Old Yokuda came from the Lame Cat of Wayrest, like always. There was no agenda save the looting of a particular temple; at least that?s all Cyrus would let on about; but some of the raga of the crew were eager just to see the homeland of their forebears. True stories had come that Yokus still lived among the stark remains; that some did not or could not flee when cataclysm came; others that the orichalc isles were a place of censure handed down from the no-totambu. And everyone knew the self-exiled ansu still lived there who did not witness the ho no shira, or the capture of Volen, or the Make Way of Diagna, and so were left to the sword-singing of their histories behind the Curtain of Run.
The captain set their course south-southwest, slanting across the spring trades into the Sea of Pearls to the puzzlement of the crew. Some of the older among them muttered darkly of the guardians of the western approaches, but nothing was sighted during the long weeks of smooth sailing. At twilight on the 12th day out of Jabbur, Coyle, long-learned in the navigations, took sighting of the non-constellation of Sep and abruptly Cyrus changed course to the north. The old hands explained to the new that they had crossed the Line that day and it was now safe to bear up for Old Yokuda. The winds, which had been fair, now turned into the north and gusted with growing ferocity, often threatening to lay the Carrick on her beam if not for the skill of her crew. After weary days of this, they finally made landfall on the 17th day.
***
Coyle, stay with the ship and start the trim. If the locals come, you speak the language. Anchor?s dropped right, sir, and Borden?s already got his raiders filed. Good, we move soon, night?s falling. Take Haekele with you, Captain, he speaks Yoku, too, and reads it if he don?t lie. Noted. We go to the spot S?rathra marked and nowhere else. Sen nung ni-Bateki tro ki-lodo. What? It?s a prayer, Cap?n, to the God of We Like Our Bodies Just Like They Are. Fair enough. Ach, heathens help us. No offense, sir. It?s a just tradition, Captain. Aye, these isles tro zhang-ga let. Shut up and get your kit.
***
By torchlight they made for the interior, badlands all of it and worse. Sharp drops would appear along the stone pathways or the high wet walls, all of it jagged from the mythic wars against the Aldmer and still gleaming with eldritch-foam. Cyrus was reminded of the geographies of Morrowind and Masser, though the wind smelled sweeter here. He choked out an order for rope to get them across the Tendu Shreds that was coming sooner than his crew had thought possible. Their captain had memorized the map, since he knew they would approach the temple under cover of night. He passed some licorice to Fornower, the youngest of those present.
The temple was nestled in the Shreds, unlit save for the foam that gave it an underwater glow, and Borden said a small word to Tsun to keep his cool. ?All in a day?s,? he said.
Broken and worked, the temple held a glimmering language above its entrance. Haekele of Alik?r moved closer. Cyrus raised a hand.
?It?s Daedric,? the Captain said. ?I can read that.?
At the mention of the Lords of Misrule, the crew of the Carrick were set to a heavier unease.
??The Virtue of the Little Reward?,? Cyrus read aloud. Then he frowned at the writing. ?Well, I?m glad I could work that out for us.? And then he guided them in.
***
The statue looks dunmer. Shh. But that makes no sense, sir, they ain?t much fer sailin. Just find the jewel if we can, this place looks pretty bare. Doesn?t look ransacked, though. Cap, look there, that?s probably why. It?s a gate. That?d keep anyone out. Hand the torch. Move up, Gar, what?s its aura read? Look on the walls. Shh, what?s it read? We?re fine, sir, it can?t open, it?s ?fire-locked. The Emperor?s good for something then. I?m serious, look on the walls. Those kings, they aren?t dunmer, they?re raga. No, they?re women, see. All of them is with child. Look. For. The. Jewel. Oh no, Captain, this is a temple to Ansu-Gurleht! Who the hell is that?
***
They found that the jewel was in parts, three by three, one for each etching of the pregnant Yoku kings of the Temple of Ansu-Gurleht the Seed-Bringer. With careful knives they pried them out and by Gar?s small enchantments they formed them into one, the Glass Opal of the Nogru.
?AI PADHOME ALTADOON!?
Borden took out his sword. ?That came from the gate, sir.?
Cyrus looked at the arching columns of the temple center, long cracked by age and with traces of wheel-carvings. ?Yeah,? he said.
The gate spoke again. ?Drop the bauble, rude shapes, I am bathing in pico-filament moltings that come in six beautiful colors the Aurbis hasn?t even revealed yet, and I really do not want to make this journey. You should also know that I?m very dangerous.?
?Move,? Cyrus said, and the crew of the Carrick ran.
***
The route back to the beach was quicker, as they jumped what they had had to climb before, and the discretion of their movements they put aside as fast as the sun could rise. Some of them thought foolishly that daylight might keep their pursuer away, as he was undoubtedly a dark thing perhaps not given to new mornings, but Cyrus yelled at them to run. Better than Gar, he could feel when strange things were moving against him.
They ran across the sand towards the boats and their shipmates knew enough to start the casting off. ?Pull her up,? Coyle yelled, ?They?ve caused trouble!?
The wind fell around them, and then a shadow, and then a bright half-star behind. Cyrus turned to see, and maybe he was smiling because he liked this kind of thing, and from the rock edges Vivec appeared, making the men gasp. No one had expected a dunmer on these shores, nor one so oddly arraigned.
?I?ll deal with him,? Cyrus said, and Borden waited a second to receive the Opal, but his captain wouldn?t toss it. ?No hard feelings, but I don?t really trust you, Borden. Go!?
Vivec was half-golden and half-blue and all of him glowing, and he was armored lightly, and carried a small shield and a curved sword at his side. His head was bald except for flame, and he smiled with evil.
?Stay back, dunmer,? Cyrus said, eyeing his head. ?I can?t have you burning my boat.?
Vivec walked closer. Afterward, men aboard the Carrick said they could smell a fortune in bug-musk.
?You don?t know me,? Cyrus said, ?so I?ll tell you once--?
And then Vivec spoke, and the winds of the beach died down when he did for he was the Lord of the Middle Air and they were indentured to him. He said to Cyrus, ?Oh, I know you, raga. I know that you forced an armistice with the Cyrodiil, which I have done, though by other designs. I know also that even after speaking well and rendering your people free again, you remained a thief at heart in the days after; these days, in fact, which I have also done and still do, again in my own way.?
And here the god of the East smiled a bit too lovingly. ?And let it be said here that you have no idea how much I absolutely adore thieves.?
Cyrus for his part was circling around Vivec, making a trough in the sand, some place in which to move easier when the fight came. His men watched from the deck of his ship. Some had brought bows and arrows, but Coyle moved them away with a hand.
Vivec lifted his legs to float in the lotus position, his head to the side with the smile vanished and replaced by a dole of remorse without mocking. ?I know how you die,? he said, ?and the trouble your soul will have reaching the far shores of your taken stars because of things you did to the discredit of the Hist, and how their long roots run even into the void tendril-feeling for your final entrance. I know how you think now, at this moment, that there are no paths except for the drowned lamp, or the wrongheaded romance of saberplay in a landscape of long regret, taking whosoever will ride with you through the still-sought salvation spread across each water lash, wandering your heart to find some purchase beyond the admonishment of the moons; flagellant without end.?
Vivec?s eyes went to the Glass Opal cradled in the pirate?s arm and frowned. He looked at Cyrus, dourly, saying, ?I know all of this about you, Sura, and more, and it grants us a kinship despite your crime against me, and so it pains me yet that I think you really know nothing of me and my mastery. Or do you? I am the city that walks, the wise and benevolent eye of the ALMSIVI, and it has been such for uncounted red generations, each adding its mark then and forevermore, the worship of the construction-everlasting, Architect Amen. What could you possibly know of me??
Cyrus had never changed his expression. ?I know you?re talking,? he said, ?because I see your mouth moving and I hear words.? And with that he dropped the stolen jewel and drew his saber.
Vivec then drew his own sword, slow yet perfectly, whipping around to angle it to his left. ?Hmm,? he said. ?Yes, fine, I think.?
The two moved in closer, Vivec gently floating so that the bonemold of his right armor faced Cyrus. ?Death despite kinship has ever been our way,? he said, ?I know too how it feels to murder the husband of my sister.?
At this last, Cyrus was finally angered, understanding now that this champion of Morrowind was truly able to read his mind, which he had vouchsafed from even the closest to him, and this is why he hated all spirits of aether. It read on his face, which thereafter hardened. ?Tell me, demon,? he asked, ?since you know how I die: is it this fight??
?No.?
?Good to hear,? Cyrus said, and attacked.
Vivec spun in midair cross-legged, never moving his swordarm from its initial position. He spoke, ?Fa-Nuit-Hen,? the name of an old master, and Cyrus fell from eight wounds that appeared without mortal notice. Coyle could not stop the men from firing then.
Bleeding into the sand, Cyrus could see Vivec above him with no sword in his hand at all but instead the stolen jewel of the Nogru, and an array of seventeen arrows fanned around his firehead aspect peacock-style, caught by demon magic. Cyrus could not get up and Vivec spoke, ?And I know of your late father, the playwright, and though some of its local color is lost on me, I am fond of his work. That is why I have let you live. I adore poetry, too.?
The Lord of the Middle Air vanished, and Coyle sent boats to the shore with medicines and their sugarcat surgeon, who had taken passage sometime after Herne.
***
You cannot go back. We must cast off. Captain, take us into this no more. A demon?s mercy only comes once. Quit staring at your sword, sir. Yokuda was lost for a reason. Let?s just go. Why not just send the crows an invitation in lights. Please, captain, let us cast off. I mean, we brought some from Akavir, they?d see ?em surely. You can?t even move. We?ve heard the stories of Ansu-Gurleht, the raga among us at least; the gods say it?s okay to hightail it. Great work, Haekele, those were right magicsome words. Go get the skooma-pipe and tell him it?s a scalpel day again. Please let us just leave this haunted place. Cut up suits you, cap, pregnant don?t; listen to the men. You cannot go back. With all due respect, sir, you?re dumber than I look.
***
Now in his time asleep or under the knife, Cyrus didn?t know that Coyle had set out with a few other sailors, all of them Yoku-speakers. Knowing his captain too well, the young man went to find the fabled ansus, the sword saints of orichalc. Coyle kept no hope that he should be so lucky?the ansus kept their citadels hidden, and komodos protected them under color of rock. In the village of Bu-tabar, which topples down the eltheric breaks like survivor pearls, Coyle learned that the ansus were seeking to hold counsel with Cyrus anyway. He met them on the Samarand Road and they were three as in tradition- a young one, an aged one, and a daughter of neither. They had a train of followers to carry their sword collections and their memories-in-stone. Seeing the crew of the Carrick, the daughter ansu reenacted the Falls of Diag-leeki with twin falchions, playing every part; since she did so in under a minute, it meant hello-don?t-be-useless.
?I should warn you,? Coyle told the elder in the old tongue, ?Captain Cyrus doesn?t know any Yoku at all.?
***
Coyle brought the elder ansu and the young one to meet Cyrus in the surgeon?s hold; the daughter stayed abovedecks with their train, to protect them and to warn the sailors with displays. The young ansu greeted the captain in Yoku, which Coyle translated for him. Cyrus merely nodded and lifted up, bandaged across his eight wounds, and the sugarcat hissed at the needless movement. Startled by the sound, the young ansu took a Walled Consequence stance. Coyle brushed the surgeon away quickly and finally the elder spoke.
?We know of you, Surahoon,? he said in the captain?s own speech, ?And motions were multiplied the other morning on this beach, which is sword tremor, which we can feel, and that can only mean you encountered the Ansu-Gurleht.?
Cyrus shrugged his shoulders. ?If you mean the dunmer wizard, yeah, he was here. I almost had him. And no funny talk.?
The young ansu dropped his stance. ?He cannot be beaten,? he told Cyrus, ?We know every sword move created in history, and none of them would avail you, even if you learned them from our memories-in-stone, which we would be obliged to lend you if you asked. You killed the white king in the Hammerfell, after all.?
?What?? Cyrus said. ?The Emperor? I didn?t kill him.?
?Of course you did; you were the Hoon Ding.?
?No I didn?t and no I wasn?t.?
The young ansu refused to listen. Behind his stone-feather mask he smiled in admiration. ?You disarmed him, even, and would not kill him until he showed another knife. That is ra gada honor. We do not fight the unprotected. Your stories have come??
?That wasn?t the Emperor,? Cyrus said. ?That was just??
?Of course it was. That is why the Hammerfell stands. You were the Hoon Ding. In any case, the Ansu-Gurleht cannot be beaten. He was gifted by the Barons of Move Like This, who record sword moves from the future, as well.?
?Right,? Cyrus sighed. ?Please remove yourself from my ship.?
Coyle went to his captain. ?Sura,? he whispered, ?nogo tur??
?Not an option, Coyle.? Cyrus turned to the ansu. ?Now go. The fight with the dunmer is my own. I appreciate the advice but you?re??
?Will you not take our memories-in-stone, at least??
?Why?? Cyrus said. He tried to keep his temper. ?You?ve already said that they?re useless against him.?
The elder lifted a hand. ?The Hoon Ding could??
?Look, I am not ??
?The Hoon Ding could read the stones and show you what we say is true?that no move exists that will get past the Ansu-Gurleht.?
The elder looked through the floor of the hold. ?At least not now,? he said, ?The Hoon Ding would show you that he will not manifest in you in this fight.?
?Good,? Cyrus said. ?He?d get in my way.? And with that he lay back down. The elder looked up from the floor, and set his head to the side.
?Surahoon,? he said, ?We are the ansu, the greatest warriors that live in men. Our swords sent the Left-Handers into the oceans, whose empire was four times the size of the white king. When we fight, our swords can kill the laws of nature itself. Yokuda is as you see it because our hira-dirg swords can cut the atomos, the uncuttable, and we did. We are the ansu, and we tell you now that you cannot beat the Ansu-Gurleht. How do you think he came by that name? Who do you think was our finest student??
Coyle stepped back. He shook his head. Cyrus for his part just shrugged again.
?Then your finest student is a painted hussy,? he said, ?And a foreign one at that. Great work. He?s quick enough, sure, but I?ve cut down his kind before.?
Cyrus lifted his head for a second, looking to Coyle. ?He talks a lot, too, and seems to like that. Is there a God of Talk to Death here, too??
?Yes,? Coyle said, ?But Ansu-Gurleht is the??
?Of course there is,? Cyrus said, ?I can work with that, then. Hopefully he?ll be holding his sword as he?s yakking away so my Redguard honor will remain intact when I run my saber into his mouth mid-sentence.?
The young ansu spoke with the elder?s voice. ?We are telling the Hoon Ding to run.?
Cyrus smiled and closed his eyes.
?Where?s the money in that??
***
TO BE CONTINUED.
MK said he'll post part 2 on Sunday.
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Lord Vivec's Sword-Meeting With Cyrus the Restless
