Silgrad Tower from the Ashes

Here is a story I am writing. I am travelling in a month or so, and I may not have time to finish all the story..but so be it and here goes!



...........Fountain of Youth

PROLOGUE

Time, you are no enemy.

You are said to ravage the face and the laughing body of youth, but that is a lie ? it is pitiless memory that is the scourge.

Memory, which is such a servant when remembering your deeds, is the cruelest of masters in its remembrance of lost beauty and health. In every waking moment it holds up the true mirror of your loss, in the pain of your joints at each move, in the sloth of your limbs to obey the demand of will, in the gaze of the world on your visage.

But with memory is also the will.


1. THE FOURTH FROM THREE

I never enjoy Royal Courts: they are a constant reminder of the world I left behind. I enjoy formal dances even less, even though I am excused from dancing. Banquets and the entertainment there leave me cold. What a waste of time and effort, when I could be researching the more subtle effects of spells, or refining potions, or even perfecting the deep and subtle arts of enchantment!

But as with many things in life, I had no choice in this matter. Morckwin made this clear to me from the outset. As was his wont, he came straight to the point as soon as I had obeyed his summons and gone to his office.

?Daryen, you will be the Mage?s Guild Emissary to King Silath?s court.?

No matter how I tried to keep my face impassive, he knew at once. Or perhaps the very rigidity of my face had given me away. He smiled.

?Yes, young Sera Ambition ? and don?t frown at me, I can feel it! A Mage is not just a spellcaster or an enchanter, as you know from your reading but are so lacking in practice. A Mage, and most especially a Councillor Mage, is also one who owes a duty to the Guild to advance our cause and smooth over any troubles that may arise between us and the ??

Morkwin?s lean, sharp face twisted in anger, and he made an abrupt, irritated gesture, flickering the flame of the candle on its desk, and causing the silver candlestick to sway. I switched my gaze to the calm summer peace of the garden seen through the window, while keeping Morkwin under view from the corner of my eye.

? ? rest of the world! And as even you with your nose in your books must know, the rest of the world seems to be exactly where we?re having our problems these days! ?

?Excuse me, Hallmaster, but I don?t really think I?m -?

?Daryen, you will go far in the Guild and the world I am sending you into, if you would but do as nature intended, and use those two large ears of yours to listen twice as much as that one stubborn mouth you keep using at the most inappropriate times. And if it will make matters any better for you, I tell you plain that you were not my first choice. In fact, you were nobody?s first choice. I doubt if you have spoken a hundred words to any being in the year you have been studying at the Magehall, and as for diplomacy and tact a nine year old child who is a third your age would speak smoother. You could probably count all the influential persons you know at Court on the fingers of one hand and still have five to spare. And as for the social graces?well?you are more refined than a peasant fresh from the fields - yes, by about the thickness of a Kwama eggshell. ?

I said nothing, but smiled and made an ironic bow.

?And, of course, for all your social ineptitude you do have a certain knack of keeping a sarcastic face and manner that will probably provoke someone someday to challenge you to a duel. Yet in spite of all that, circumstance has left us no choice but to send you. Well ? this needs a full explanation. Take a seat. And try to listen, to the end, without any interjections, will you? Even if they strike you as masterpieces of dry wit.?

Both my body and my spirits sank ? my body into the deep chair, my spirits into despair as I suspected I was not going to get out of this one, no matter what. Morkwin got up from his massive, carved desk as I sat down, pacing the room in quick, regular steps, as he declaimed to the walls, the floor, and occasionally at me from under his thick white eyebrows.

?The background, Sera Daryen! The Court of King Silath is one of great Importance to the Mage?s guild, as through its support we are able to legally and economically carry out our exploration of Valleron Island. Legally it lies within his suzerainty, and even though he has given us permission to explore, research and catalogue it we still need the assistance of his guards and transport. Hiring our own would be a heavy burden on our finances. And we cannot give up our research of Valleron, not now.?

Morkwin paused, both in his pacing and his explanation. He remained as a statue, so still that I thought he had finished speaking. I was about to interject, but he suddenly looked fiercely up at me. I looked into his eyes, and subsided back into my chair. Morkwin kept staring at me, then suddenly walked up to my chair and sat down in the one next to it.

Steepled fingers and a slow, quiet voice marked a change in his tone.

?What I am going to tell you, Daryen, is something that you were not told because it was both too tempting, and dangerous, not just for our Mages, but for all the races of Morrowind. But first I want to ask you a question. What do you know about the Restricted Arts??

The many years I had spent in keeping my face impassive stood me in good stead. My face remained stone because I had willed it so: both my heart and my mind, however, were racing. In the short time it took to reply to Morkwin, my mind had remembered, thought, and examined ?

Does he know?

He cannot. I have hid my researches well. Less than one hour a day, and even then two days a week or less. I have taken the greatest precautions, and have done my experiments outside the building. None have seen me copy the forbidden books, one page at a time with my fixeye charm so that I needed only a glance at a page to remember it for the whole day. It has taken me ten months to copy the nine forbidden books, and in the following three months I have made only two experiments, both outside the Hall. And if he knew he would not be leading up to the subject in this way.

I must make him believe that I am doing nothing, and yet too great a disinterest would also betray me. What shall I do? Ah! I will pretend to be interested ? very interested ? in the Restricted Arts, and even hint that I would like to study them if the council would give me the authority ? but at the same time I must show complete ignorance of their powers. In this way my interest will seem genuine if also na?ve, and when Morkwin rebukes me for my interest, and gives me chapter and verse on the evils of the Restricted Arts, I shall then pretend to be genuinely shocked and my vows to never pursue the arts will be more convincing!

?There are Three: The art of Flesh Creation, The Art of Soul Duplication, and The Art of Memory Creation. I understand that they are not to be researched, but I have always been puzzled by why they have been called the ?Restricted Arts? when everyone knows, for all intents and purposes, they are not restricted, but banned! I wonder?are you proposing that I study them with a special dispensation from the Council? If so, I would be delighted ??

?ENOUGH!?

It?s Working ?

?I see that in spite of all your research, Sera, you have not discovered the true nature of the restricted arts. Well, that is to be expected ? they were deliberately designed that way, to disguise the real truth. We have debated long over whether to reveal this truth to you, and decided that you are fit to be trusted with it.?

Morkwin paused ?

? ? and yet this great secret is too heavy to be entrusted to anyone lightly, no matter how trustworthy he seems. If you wish to accept it, you will have to wear the sentient soulstones to forge your oath. Do you accept, Daryen??

SENTIENT SOULSTONE!

Ah, NOW I see. THAT is why he wears earrings, a circlet crown with a central inset stone, and rings on both his hands ? so that the soulstones will hear, see and touch all that he does, and record and remember it on examination! For a Mage to give up all his privacy to a Council ? it MUST be a council ? this must be a powerful, powerful secret indeed.

Daryen nearly said ?I accept? before suddenly remembering ?

Ah, That was a Trap! At my level I am not supposed to know about Sentient Soulstones ? If I had agreed just now I would have been discovered! And I nearly, nearly fell for it?

Clever, Morkwin. Very clever. And Subtle. What Exactly is your Game? I shall play your game, Morkwin, and I shall play it better!

?What are Sentient Soulstones, Hallmaster? I know they can?t be good, at least!?

In Retrospect, I wished I had never said that. But I was ambitious, and knew far more than I should have, and yet far too little for the choices I had to make.

Fate chooses man, not the other way around. This I know now is true. And the first move in the game I find myself in began when Morkwin leaned over and offered a deep, devious bargain.

I am sure Sheogorath must have laughed, then.

Seems that you will have little mercy on your hero! Shoeg is involved!

And the story marches on!!! Read it to the end, you who have wandered into the thread, or face the wrath of Sheogorath!!! :bananarock:





2. JOURNEY?S START.

Now that I think back I smile to consider how eager and na?ve I was then.

It seemed so possible, when Morkwin had laid out his proposal. Complicated, slightly risky, yes, but totally possible. Why did I not know then that Fate has its own script, that we are cast into roles without our permission or even knowledge.

During the Summer of that year when flowers made a painter?s palette of the Garden, and while I was waiting for my letters of accreditation to be prepared and accepted by the Court of King Silath, Morkwin and I had many long walks there while he explained, softly, the true reasons why the Restricted Arts were ?actually, forbidden.

??and so you must see that rejuvenating youth is not just a simple matter of making the flesh look and even appear young again, as so many Mages, Necromancers and Alchemists foolishly thought - and will continue to think ? so long as they do not know the deep secret of ?The Fourth from Three?. No, to be young again, is more like ??

Here Morkwin paused, and his eyes rested on a butterfly. Shimmering and Opalescent, its wings made a poem of visual beauty in the air as it danced with the soft breeze. Strange how I had never noticed before, how much like a woman?s eyelashes the dark border on the edge of its wings looked?.it landed on a beautiful orchid, even as Morkwin continued ?

? ?like, say, the transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly. There you see not only the flesh, but also its essence, its soul, change. As change it must. To move from an asexual being with only the goal of the accumulation of flesh written in its primitive soul, into a being of flight and sexuality, it must transform not only its flesh but its very essence, its soul. ?

?And this is why to rejuvenate a person it is not enough to re-create the youthful flesh. No: for rejuvenation to take place there must be a match between the body, its memories, and the soul that animates the body and that which is the product of the memory. Think, if you will, of an old man?s mind, wandering in its past and seeing the present world but through a dim haze. We have known, from researches of the past, that even the temporary creation of a younger body to house the aged mind creates a dissonance between flesh and soul that results in the rapid decay of that body, so that what was the bloom of youth in the morning becomes a decayed corpse by nightfall. ?

?Or ? it becomes so fragile, that it is as easily crushed ??

Morkwin?s hand shot out, fast as an adder, and the butterfly suddenly found its wings pinioned in his hand. He held the wings between his two fingers and thumb, without touching the delicate body at all. Yet the butterfly struggled in a panic, and its struggles first fractured, then ripped, the fragile wings. Morwin opened his hand, and the damaged butterfly flew off on broken wings, at first making some progress, but then after a while dropping to the earth unable to fly.

I watched as it stumbled across the grass to my foot. Stumbled, even as Morwin?s voice spoke on.

?- as this. You see? I used only the lightest force, and yet by the very fragility of its wings, and the nature of the butterfly, it inevitably is ruined when held. Human hands and butterfly wings just don?t mix. The same with an aged mind and a youthful body. The constant flow of information between mind and body must be in harmony, or one or the other must be destroyed. This fact put off many who wanted to invent the ?potion of rejuvenation? and instead, they went for the next best thing, to create a strong and healthy body with the mind old and cunning. Divayth Fyr, the Telvanni, went along this route?and we know what he created as his ?daughters? as well??

?Yet in the year (-----) all this was changed ? apparently - by Visleith Valleron. ?

Valleron?

So the Isle did have not only inhabitants, but also a? Lord?s family? And ?Visleith? is a strange name ? it has echoes of both male and female.

?We know that the Valleron family is ancient, and that they have been lords of Valleron Isle for as far back as we have records. In the year (------) the title passed to Lady Visleith Valleron, who astonished the society of her day by living to be two hundred and fifty-five before she disappeared?and??

Female. And now I remember a reference to ?Visleith the Eternal? in one of the Forbidden Books. So it was her then. This is interesting, very interesting indeed.

??and astonished all, who knew her then, by the appearance of youth that she maintained, up to the very moment she vanished. After she vanished there was a period of confusion, for the law was not clear on what the status of the island was. The then Duke Silath seized the island ?in trust? for the Vallerons, and ever since the fiction has been maintained, although all know that in practice the island is just a part of the vast estates of the now Kingdom of Silath. The Island was never economically much valuable, even during the Valleron Days: it useful only as a post for a lighthouse, and since the Ballocktyne Canal was dug even that became obsolete. Thus very few have been there, and even King Silath did not care to post a single guard on it during the first few years of his reign. Until the Valleron pearls discovery.?

?Pearls? So it?s become economically valuable again? But what?s this got to do with us, unless we need pearls to make a new potion??

Morkwin?s smile and retort was brief, but bit like a whip.

?Not jewellery, but necromancy, perhaps. We don?t fully know. All we know is that apparently some fishermen discovered some strange stones strung in a necklace, and as they looked like pearls he called them that. It seems that when his wife put them on, she discovered that she was growing younger ? that she looked exactly what she looked like at sixteen? and that amazed, and pleased to no end, the fisherman. But in the very next week he was troubled.?

?It seems that with her rejuvenation had also come a partial loss of memory, and not only that ? she seemed to be remembering many fragmentary memories of the lives of totally different people or even other species, as she remembered some images that could only be from a Khajit, an Argonian, and even Orcs.?

?He was so worried by this ?black magic? that he took off her necklace and smashed and ground the ?pearls? into powder: yet the shining powder was so beautiful that he did not throw it away, but kept it in a bowl. Some of this powder somehow got mixed into his ale, and by coincidence he drank it just after he had been out on a stormy day and had accidentally sustained a very nasty wound on his thigh. He was amazed to discover that it healed at once after he drank the ale. He gave it to his son, who had lost his eyesight in a fall from the mainmast a year before, and his son could see again. He tried it on his father, who had lost a leg, and was astounded to see the leg grow again in front of his eyes.?

?Naturally, as he started selling his ?miracle healing power? the stories and rumours grew, and a secret like that couldn?t be kept for long by a newly rich fisherman. Now all the Great Houses know. And so does every Guild and it seems every damned adventurer in the whole of Tamriel about these ?pearls? that are the ?fountain of youth?! And so all are scheming, either openly or in secret, to get their hands on Valleron and start digging the whole island up! ?

? Of course, this was just what King Silath didn?t want. So to kill many birds with one stone, he comes to us and tells us to research the island, with his legal backing and financial support. We?ve just begun doing it. And already various factions representing various Guilds have put their oar in. We had to remove the last two Searchmasters of our Guild on Valleron when it was found out that they had financial and political connections with the other great Houses and Guilds! Now Silath doesn?t trust us as much as before, and is said to be thinking of revoking our permit. And just when you thought things couldn?t get any more complicated, along comes a ? ?

Morkwin suddenly turned, and smiled wryly at me ?

? ?a ?descendant? of Visleith Valleron, who has formally filed a request in Imperial Court to have her lands given back to her again! And it seems she has all the papers, the seals, and the tokens, to prove it too, and what?s more she is backed by House Hlaalu and House Telvanni as well! ?

?Convenient. How convenient.?

?Precisely, Daryen. And it was at this time that our last Emissary, Khar-Eng, was discovered to have been corrupted by the Fighters Guild, who wanted that potion to create a class of invincible fast healing warriors. Now he?s been expelled and our next four proposals for the post of Emissary have been rejected by Silath, who claimed they were too close to this house or that house, this Guild or that! And that?s where you come in.

Ah. I see it all, now.

?You are an orphan, adopted by the Mage?s guild since birth. You yourself belong to no House, and you Foster Parents, now dead too, were oddities in our Guild since they, too, were so stubbornly independent that they refused to belong to any House, which was why Darthone your Foster Father never received the rank in the Guild that reflected his vast learning. You are not known to have any close friends or business or social relationships with any persons in the Great Houses or any Guilds except the Mages. Indeed, even in the Mages Guild you have a considerable reputation as a loner. Your studies are wide ? the full range of magika, and you have even studied law as well! ?

?All this meant that when your name was suggest to the court of King Silath as a Mages Guild Searchmaster and Emissary, he did not object. Neither did the court. Yet know this, Daryen. As soon as you arrive there you will be tempted and offered bribes and inducements by all the factions to ?bend? the research their way, and to give them the secrets you unearth. And we cannot be completely sure of the members of the Mages Guild Excavation Team, either?

?This is why all of us involved in the Council inisist you wear the Sentient Stones. You will see that even I wear a set. All that you see, hear and touch will be reported back to us, at intervals that you will not know about. But you will not have a receiving stone, so while we can see what you do and say and see, you cannot do the same to us. ?

?Succeed, and your swift promotion is assured. Fail, and know this ? you have no protectors apart from us. We can set every man?s hand against you. For the last and final time ? I shall not ask you again ? do you agree? Think, Daryen. This is the point of no return.?

I glanced again at the crippled butterfly crawling near my foot. Gently, I lifted my foot, and brought it down on the ruined beauty of the insect. Better this way, rather than be slowly eaten alive by something, I thought. And I spoke.

?I agree?

And making sentient stones is a game more than one can play at, I silently thought.

Now this is going to be good! Well-thought explanations, political games, interesting histories, forbidden magic, insightful commentaries, hateable heroes; this story has it all! :goodjob:

You said it Syko!!

And let's not forget the Romantic Interest, shall we? In fact...here it comes...

('cums'???)

Heck - excuse us folks - the pervert took over the controls just then...

:banana:


3. THE OPENED HEART

The light of a thousand candles, together with the moonlight flowing in through the myriad glass windows of the cupola soaring above the Great Hall, make the ballroom look almost as light as day. Imperial and High Elf, Breton and Nord, all dressed in their best. All on their best behaviour. All determined to best the opposition. A thousand smiles, all of them ? I suppose ? false. And of the guests, which of them are moonlighting for factions other than their own?

Ah, what a cynical mind I have.

Which of course is a necessity for this job.

?Are you enjoying this dance not, Sera??

Without turning my head, I know that it is a Breton speaking. The accent, the grammatical construction of the negative at the end of sentence, could only be from a Breton. I also know that she is not of a high social ranking ? this is normal, as few high ? ranking Bretons have been invited here. The voice is soft, yet a little husky at the edges. No doubt someone who could not find a partner for a dance, and is now trying to inveigle me to dance. But if I had cared for women, I would not have become the type of Mage I was.

And I had other things to do far more important than to hold a conversation with a Breton Wallflower. I was intensely searching the crowd to find out the claimant of the Valleron title: she was said to be wearing a dress of cornflower blue, but I could not find any one. In addition I was thinking ? hard ? over what King Silath had cryptically hinted the previous evening when I had seen him at the credential presentation ceremony.

?Ah yes, the Mages Guild Emissary who is without bias. Welcome to my Kingdom, and know that I shall favour the Guild as equally they favour our joint enterprise!?

A hint? Was the King trying to tell me that he was having some doubts about the fidelity of the Mages Guild to the Valleron Research? I must meet the King?s representative on Valleron to see if he is the one feeding these doubts. Indeed, he?s supposed to be here at the moment ? what?s his name, ah, ah, Godewynn!! Where is the man?

?A brown study for our Mage in Brown, and he wishes to appear the strong, silent type methinks?but then, so do most Mages who lack Brawn!?

Ah She wishes to make wit at my expense ? well, a few well ?chosen sarcastic words should crush her!

?Forgive my slow response, Breton Lady. But I dared not presume to address her Ladyship so familiarly, as I am sure without even looking at her wondrous beauty she is so beautiful that she will lack for neither a partner to carry her in dance or parry her at words!?

There that should do it ?

?Would you dance by yourself with your own words as your partner, Mage? Such is, I believe, the result of long solititude in Mage?s studies!?

?I would as lief study this crowd in solititude, Madam!?

?Ah yes, a solitary Mage type. Far removed from human society for long, no doubt. We apologise for having no Ivory Tower here, but perhaps the King will graciously allow one to be built just for you!?

?My business is my own, Madam, and those who know of Bowers only should not jest of Towers!?

A Mocking laugh.

?Alas, my Mage seems to believe that women should be near flowers, look like flowers, and no doubt have a head filled with flowers as well?but things have changed in the world whilst you were in your cave, with cobwebs a-building on your head??

?I pray thee, Madame, desist AT ONCE!?

?Such a temper - and in a Mage, too. Should we expect fireballs next? I must warn the master of ceremonies that the Mages Guild has arranged to have a wondrous display of fireworks for this evening?s entertainment!?

?I would rather you arranged to entertain another, Madam!?

?Entertainment is not my object, Sera, for I came to enlighten those who are in the dark?.

?Then pray derange somebody else, Madame Breton, and leave us Ignorant Imperials alone!?

?Ah, but Ignorance is bliss for those who seek far for what is near ? and it would be rude to refuse one who would lead the ignorant one out of his cocoon!?

I ground my teeth. Things were not going as I expected. But I REFUSED to turn around and look at her. The nerve! To think she could bandy words with me, Daryen, the Mages Guild Emissary! And as if I cared for the wiles of women...!

?Your Pardon, My High Lady, for my rudeness. I admit I am rude, and ignorant to boot. I shall now apologise for my rudeness by not troubling you with my speech again!?

There. That should do it. No matter what she said now, I would simply maintain a freezing silence and after five or six attempts at wit she would make what she thought to be a cutting remark, and move off in a flurry with some hauteur. I smiled to myself. Women! All their thoughts were as the froth on an ocean, even if they presumed to have an education. I grimaced. I would have to inquire into this ?Valleron heir? and that would entail talking to her?I mentally groaned. I hope she isn?t as annoying as this one?

Ah yes, she speaks again. Let her! I shall not respond?what? POETRY?

?Mage Daryen, the Pompous Bookworm
At this Ball, tried to have scorn
On a poor Breton Girl
And with his words hurl
Her face from his sight ?
Ah, perhaps it was the Night!
For in his pride he did not see
That though he scanned the ballroom, free,
Searching for the impostor who claimed
That her blood from the Vallerons came
He was afflicted with the Mages disease
And saw all except what should be ease -
For She was not in the Ball, at all!
Ah, Pride goeth before a fall
And ? to humble you, my Mage so tall
I shall tell you that the one you seek
Is not lost ? no, no fate so bleak ?
For she is the one you scorn to speak
Turn around, and see that she?s no freak!?

My blood froze.

A BRETON? The Heir to the Aristocratic Vallerons of Imperial Fame, a BRETON? Impossible!

All dignity momentarily forgotten, I turned around swiftly. But even as I turned, my mind was making a thousand explanations to apologise for my rudeness, and to subtly and cunningly follow on from there into finding out about her...after all, she is but a woman, and women are ever suspectible to flattery and a show of humility?

And then I saw her, and Dibella must have smiled. For all the years I had sneered and scorned women. For all my condescension towards them. For all the times I had made them the butt of my wit. For all the smugness in my soul that told itself ten thousand times before that women were dangers to other men, but not to me.

It was not the face of my dreams: I do not dream of women, and no dream could have prepared me anyway for the sardonically yet sweetly smiling face I saw in front of me. The whole room seemed to blur, with only her standing out in focus: a mouth with a perfect cupid?s bow, thin eyebrows arched above eyes wide , laughing yet ironic as well, a face sculpted by nature to be a masterpiece of harmony in its smooth lines and curves, and skin of a smoothness and luster that would put the finest silks to shame. Hair drawn back in a simple, yet supremely elegant style and fastened with two ruby hairpins that highlight the honey blonde glory of her head. Two smiling lips showing perfect teeth in a mouth generously wide and hinting of mischief. All this on top of a smooth yet full body that had its arms bare in a cornflower blue gown, which flared out in a long skirt that hinted at long and smooth legs underneath.

Why?why did this have to happen? Love? It cannot be! My ambition is to be Arch-Mage, has always been since I was a child, and that ambition has neither time nor inclination for marriage or even a transitory love! I tell myself this, yet every fibre of my body is screaming that I am in love. I don?t need this. Not here. And especially not now! All this my self speaks, while mocking heart and raging blood counter every thought with ten of their own?no, no, I am in trouble. In trouble, indeed.

She sees me flabbergasted, and makes a small, mocking bow.

?Venera Valleron, at your service, Sera Daryen. And I believe you?re looking for me.?

I have fallen flat on my face intellectually, socially and emotionally. Out of the corner of my eye I can see all the soldiers and aristocrats and other guests in my vicinity politely making conversation, pretending not to see and hear what?s going on, while inwardly screaming with laughter. And, of course, she is well aware of that, too. That and the fact I?m so awestruck by her beauty that I still cannot speak.

Dibella?s Revenge? Bah. Dibella AND Sheogorath. Both of them must be laughing themselves sick by now.

:goodjob: Try the flavour of: "...sardonic yet sweetly smiling face..."

Nice to see that Dibella has arrived in your thinking - it seems to me that whereas Dibella is about healthy recreational sexuality, Sheogorath is about out of control, desperately drugged self-destruction.

Adherents of Sheog seem to see that their course will destroy them and embrace it for that reason - kind of protracted suicides if the Mainquest that I followed saving the failing Ashlander tribe in TES3 is anything to go by.

Dibellans seem to live to be healthier and better prepared for the next orgy...

So I've been imagining that you might intend the balance in your story to revolve around the difference between the two? Having said this I suppose you will find something completely different as your final twist, but there again...grrr, I s'pose I'll just have to let you get on with it.

edit: :O ummm, you might have to use some of your sexually explicit doggerel in this piece if it does revolve around Dibella or Her worship/ers. Unfortunate, I know, but there it is.

further edit: :eek: Did I really say that - maybe I need to run faster lest Sheoggy catch up with me! Cor I am sooo brave!

BUT DON'T OVERDO IT! Ah, that's better. :]

Romantic interest indeed, and depicted perfectly as well. The sudden change in tones, yet persistance of Daryen's sarcastic inner-remarks really highlighted that transition as well. Keep up the good work (not that that really matters, because you'll obviously just keep making it better. ).

Some incongruencies in an otherwise flawless work:

You seem to switch back and forth between italicized and normal font for Daryen's thoughts quite often. While its apparent that the italicized depict his concious thoughts while the normal passages are those of his narrative thoughts, it can get a bit confusing.

Also, on a few of the hyphenated words you had misplaced spaces, which wouldnt really matter, except that you also had quite a few interjectory thoughts. While its easy to discern the difference, it may cause some confusion for anyone who reads at a glance.

Just a few things to think about while you unveil the rest of your cunningly crafted story. :goodjob:

Quote:further edit: Did I really say that - maybe I need to run faster lest Sheoggy catch up with me! Cor I am sooo brave!

Dont waste your breath running, I think he's already caught you. :p Of course, it seems D.Foxy set a trap for us and ensnared us in the Mad God's web of delerious sanity. :yes:

Well, like I said, I'm still writing this story. I don't know if I shall ever finish it - I shall be dropping out of the internet for years in a few weeks (and no, I am not going to jail! ) but I am glad that there are some faithful readers ( I estimate at least 10 from all the views) who enjoy my work!!

BTW Raggidman and Syko you were right to point out that some of the work is ragged..I don't have time to revise and polish.

And so, without further ado...

4. ?Shall we game, Sera??

Valleron is an isle of contrasts. It is near the mainland and on top of the highest point in it, from the abandoned lighthouse that is built near the crumbling and equally abandoned old Valleron Mansion, on a clear day one can see the docks that lie near the Royal castle. Glance down and one can almost see the whole island, with the exception of the many coves and inlets to the south that are hidden by the only other hill of any size on Valleron. All the other gently rolling elevations on the isle do not merit the title of hills. It seems so placid, and yet because it stands directly in the path of the sea and rain and there are no other islands or high elevations to break the force of the wind,

The trouble with Valleron has always been that there is no rain, or almost no rain, on the island at all, and the jagged rocks that surround the island make it almost impossible to establish any kind of harbour there at all. With little vegetation, no minerals to speak of, and no harbour to support a fishing and clam diving industry, it is a place where the only regular income was provided by the lighthouse that warned ships at night away from the treacherous Valleron rocks. No wonder none of the Aristocratic families had cared enough about the island to fight over it.

Indeed, the Valleron Family had their income from many large estates on the mainland, and originally the Valleron Mansion itself was not on this island. But the declining fortunes of the Valleron Family, due to their having consistently backed the wrong political side and financing disastrous expeditions, made them either leave or sell their vast estates on the Mainland, and finally left them with only the Mansion on the Island that they had built in far more prosperous times. It was said that they retired from social life as well, and only came to the Mainland a few times a year to collect the lighthouse fees and buy supplies which they would then ship to their island in the type of boat that only they knew how to build ? the shallow bottomed and extremely fast Valleron catamarans.

The Vallerons, then, were always assumed to have been poor Aristocrats. I smiled at the thought. People always forgot that where there was a will and an intelligence, there was a way, and the Vallerons always were famous for both.

It was clear, now, that they had turned to smuggling. The Rocky shores of Valleron hid a secret ? due to some strange flaw in their geologic formation in the past, there were streaks and layers of soft, porous rock mixed into the sharp stones, and over time the tides hard worn them down and dissolved them, so the entire island was a network of natural caves. Mudcrabs has sought these caves for shelter, and dug them deeper to escape from the slaughterfish: this exposed more of the rock to the tide, thus creating a cycle where the tide extended the caves, allowing the slaughterfish to probe deeper into the recesses in the shore, the Mudcrabs dug new holes further away, and the tide dissolved more rock. In fact, the entire island must be a vast interconnected honeycomb of caves. The Vallerons when they had been driven by penury to their last remaing estate on the island must have soon discovered that ? and turned it to their advantage.

First they had made a mechanism so ingenious that I can only shake my head in awe. They had somehow discovered how to make magical, semi-sentient stones charged with magical energy that continuously broadcast a summon creature spell, and set the stones in the middle of a multitude of traps designed to kill both mudcrabs and slaugherfish. Within a very short time they must have killed all the dangerous beasts on the island, and then from the sale of the vast amount of meat from the animals - and whatever they got from the stomachs of those animals ? they must have got the capital to start their smuggling and slaving business, while slavery was still legal?

And they must have used the slaves for not one, but at least five or even seven generations, to hide the caves from the world and build rock walls with secret doors between one cave and the others, for while we had been excavating and looking around from the one cave the fisherman had discovered his ?Valleron Pearls? from ? for over four months, now ? we had only discovered seven cave systems. Each system was superbly engineered. Each had numbered and signposted tunnels, like a road system underground, lightstones, rest rooms, slave pens, and well tended plant rooms to both grow herbs and to keep the air fresh without need for ventilation systems. And from partial plans outlining the systems we had discovered, we could easily guess that there must be at least a hundred more, but to discover the single or double door connecting one cave system from another took days and weeks of patient examination of the walls. That took precious time and effort, which was hard to spare, for the caves were a treasure house of secrets and treasure which many generations of Vallerons had made from their nefarious smuggling and slaving. The treasures themselves were amazing, but in comparison to the secrets they were but mere baubles.

The embittered Vallerons, shunned by the rest of society for their ?poverty? must have decided to turn to the path of power through intelligence, and studied long and hard the Mage?s and Alchemist?s arts. The spells they used were both more powerful and used far less Magika energy than the ones the Mages Guild and their potions packed the power of a strong bottle of potion into a volume of liquid that could easily fit into a skooma-sized bottle. Not to mention their enchantments, which were both more subtle and more powerful than even the most experienced Mages could make. Poring through all these spells and analyzing all these potions, I pondered over the irony of this reversal of fortune. If only the Valleron ancestors had one-half of their descendant?s astuteness and cunning during their heyday, they would not have been forced to social exile on this island?but it seems adversity brings out a surprising strength and resilience in the most unlikely people.

Now I see why everyone wants a piece of the action. The Mages, the Alchemists and the Treasure Hunters all lust after Valleron?s bounty, the Soldiers are drooling over a ready-made Island Fortress honeycombed with tunnels and caves, and the rest of the world wants to ally itself with one faction or another to gain either intellectual, social or economic benefit. Or all three. And as the news of this spreads it will be like a bleeding carcass in slaughterfish-infested waters. Even now, only the top layers of society know, and look at all the plots and counter-plots and counter-counter plots that have been hatched since then! What will happen when the Bards sing songs of it, when every copy of the ?Courier? has an article on the latest developments on the Island, when every traveling merchant and flea-bag pedlar goes around hawking ?Genuine Valleron Treasure Ware and Magic Items?? No wonder both the Mages Guild and King Silath are impatient to finish the excavations quickly. Every day that goes by I feel the pressure from them both, and now I see why Morkwin was smiling as he waved me goodbye at the dock. Bastard. What a job!

Venera?

Oh, curses on that woman! I cannot get her out of my head for more than ten minutes at a time, no matter how important the subject. I will not think of her. I will NOT. And I WILL cure my mind of this wild infatuation with the woman. I cannot ? I WILL not ? be a love-slave of any woman!

I have far, far more important things to worry about. I have to worry about Godewynn and the King. Is Godewynn naturally impatient and suspicious, or is he just trying to eject each Mages Guild Emissary until he gets one he can control? Since Godewynn was the one who exposed the connections between the last Emissary and the Fighters Guild, King Silath will hear no ill of him. I have to tread warily there.

And the sentient stones which report to the Mages Council. I have devised ways of manipulating what they see, hear, and feel, but no man or Mage is perfect. But if I slip once, I am lost. The Guild will have me quietly assassinated ? they cannot afford the scandal. But definitely they will choose assassination.

I have to continually keep checking the security of the Island and the work site. And the loyalty of the guards. If any attempt to breach the island is made, it will first come through a bribed guard or guards. With Bretons, Argonians, Dunmer, and other races represented, this in itself should be a full time job. Not to mention keeping the peace between them and the Guards posted by King Silath.

In the middle of all this is the demanding schedule of excavation, exploration, cataloguing, and reporting. Followed by sessions of the inheritance court to find out what truth, if anything, lies in Venera?s claim. What game is she playing? If she is a puppet of the Great Houses, how did she get the proofs which she has produced? Are they forgeries? If she truly is the long ? lost heir of the Vallerons, why has she not used her knowledge of the Valleron treasures to enrich herself? And why did Visleith Valleron disappear, all these long years ago?and how was her great age, youthful appearance and beauty tied up with the discovery of the ?Valleron Pearls? ?

And how did she manage to breed descendants that intermarried with Bretons? To produce Venera?who combines the regal stature of the Imperials, and the delicate features of the Bretons?

Oh Venera. Venera,Venera, Venera! Somehow she always finds a way to pop back up into my mind and business. It is bad enough I have to see her twice a week in the court?s sessions, but worse is that, as one of the court?s investigators, I have to see her face to face across a table while she smilingly answers my questions.

Well did I remember the first of those sessions. I had walked into the office, expecting her to come accompanied by Telvanni and Hlaalu speakers in Law and Lore, as indeed was her right. Instead she walked in all alone as bold as brass, and sat down opposite me looking at me smiling and doe-eyed. And she had spoken.

?Shall we game, Sera??

And just how do I play any game when my heart was lost to you before the first move, Venera Valleron?

Another worthy addition. I particularly liked the explanation of the island's history and geographical aspects, it really helped to clarify a few things as wels as provide further basis for you to expand on. I look forward to the next chapter. :goodjob:

That makes me sad that you wll be leaving soon, for then where shall I get my new literary fix? ( ) Whatever your reasons may be, I wish you good luck in your endeavors, but for now you still have a few weeks, so get busy finishing it. :p

And to continue!


5. Too Many Cooks ? employ a plot.


?I now call the meeting of this Council to order. We have Mages Urg-Lokath, Mind-like-whip, Patronius, Arvil and myself present, thus having a full Council and more than meeting the quorum requirement of three. I am glad that we are all present, for the business of Valleron is pressing and require our urgent attention. I intend to make a full report, but before I do so ??

A voice, soft but with authority, interrupted Chairman Morkwin?s opening speech.

?Excuse me for interrupting, Mage Morkwin, but I distinctly remember at our last meeting we agreed that Mage Daryen, even though he was judged to be the most reliable and suitable for the job, was not to be fully trusted, which was why we agreed he be fitted with the Sentients. Now during the month he has been there I have tried to view his sight, sound, and touch, and I had been successful ? but only in patches. There were many lapses, some as short as a minute, and others about an hour or so, and I told you and all the Mages here at the time that this was worrying. Indeed, it was extremely worrying. I believe, too, that all the other members of the Council should feel the same way. Now are we going to discuss this first, or not??

Morkwin?s eyes first took in the entire Council, which was slowly nodding its collective head. When he replied, he did so calmy but firmly.

?Patience, ?Mind-like-whip?. My report will touch on this, too. It had crossed my mind even as I fitted Daryen with the Sentient Soulstones, that he might try to trick us. The most obvious way to do this would be to transfer the stones to a well-coached confederate of his, who would meet, talk and interact with the people we wanted him to meet. We would see through the eyes of his actor, while Daryen would be free to plot and scheme and be bribed or threatened without our knowledge.

To guard against that I had prepared a backup, one would also be fitted with the stones in such a way as to hide that fact, and he would check on Darynen to see if he was truly wearing the stones or not. He is an Argonian. As you all are aware, only Argonians have a skin tough and ridged enough to hide the fact that there may be something implanted under them. The stones have been implanted into his brow, ears, and hands, and the wounds carefully sown over so that no one can tell from looking alone whether stones have been implanted. The Argonian I have selected is one that is absolutely loyal and not so intelligent ? and the best thing of all is, he does not even know he is working for the Mages Guild! He believes he is working for an Argonian Conspiracy to find out what is there in Valleron, and thus this useful fool does not know in the slightest that he is actually working for the Mages Guild and reporting to me! As Argonians are fiercely loyal only to their own race, and no other -?
- here Morkwin smiled at ?Mind-like-Whip? and bowed his head, slightly -

? ? with, of course, the exception of our esteemed Mage Council member and other members of our Mages Guild, I am as sure as is possible that neither has Daryen betrayed the Council, nor has the Argonian reported anything but the truth.?

Even the veteran Mages of the Council are stunned ? they had expected Morkwin to be cunning and devious, but the depth and subtlety of his plan leave them unable to speak. Finally Urg-Lokath spoke, and in his voice was found both admiration and a hint of wariness.

?By Boethia?a masterly plan indeed, Mage Morkwin, but we would like to know exactly what instructions you gave this Argonian. And why were we not told of this? Are not the Mages of the Council supposed to know of, and approve, all the things that are carried out in this Council?s name??

Morkwin bowed first to the speaker, then to the Council in general.

?I apologise for this, but it was necessary that the greatest secrecy be preserved so that none could know of my backup plan before Mage Daryen left for Valleron. And while we are now on this subject of secrecy and checks, perhaps this would be the right time to explain what my instructions to my Argonian Agent are, and how he has faithfully carried them out. ?

?My instructions, given indirectly of course, to him were that he should pose as a guard on the island, and at the same time recruit where possible other Argonians to report to him all the doings on that island, with particular attention to Daryen. He is to write a report once a month to me in code. Of course that is just a ruse to disguise the fact that I am seeing what he sees and hearing what he hears, in addition to Daryen?s Sentients ?

Here Patronius, frowning, held up a hand.

?Excuse me, Mage Morkwin ? to see Daryen?s sight and sound, even in excerpts, is time-consuming enough. How do you find the time to see two Sentient accounts and still leave room for your other work??

?By using the Sentience of my Receiver Stone. I have spell crafted my receiver in such a way that it will remind me to view both only when living beings are being viewed and spoken to, and when Daryen?s hand is writing. That cuts down my viewing time to an hour a day. Of course, all our Sentient Receivers have memories, so we can ? if we suspect something ? go back and review over all that he sees, hears, or even snores in his sleep. But both from what I have seen on Daryen?s Sentients, and the Argonian?s Sentients as well, as well as his first written report which is now in my hands, I can tell you this, dear colleagues: Darynen has not taken off his stones, and he has not received any bribes, threats, or other inducements.?

?Now about the lapses in reporting by the stones ? I have discovered the reasons for this. It seems that there is so much magical energy being generated by the Valleron?s own special class of Autonomous Sentient Stones that they are at times interfering with the recording and reporting of our own stones. I have studies these lapses, and concluded that they are not important. There were only four lapses longer than two minutes, and they averaged an hour in length: two of them happened in sleep, so they can be discounted. The Argonian?s surveillance and diary covers the other two, so that I reality there is no gap in the reporting. I think on that front we can rest easy. For now. Do I have the agreement of the Council??

Morkwin looks at the Council, and waits.

All clever and Ambitious Mages, every one of them, he thought. Yes, they do not trust me or even each other completely, and this is not surprising ?many Mages have betrayed each other for far less than the secrets in Valleron. And for all their cleverness, that is why it is so predictable what they are thinking now?they are surprised at my precautions, they grudgingly admit that it was clever, but at the same time they are jealous. And suspicious. Any moment now, one of them will get up and say that I did well, but all should have access to both stone records, and also copies of my receiving stone. Who will it be?

Ah yes. ?Mind-like-Whip? speaks.

?First of all, let me congratulate Mage Morkwin for his brilliant plan and extremely deep foresight. I believe I can speak for the entire Council in expressing its gratitude to him for his deep thinking and extremely hard work. And indeed, we would not be fulfilling our duties if we did not elect to share some of the time and effort consuming burden with him ??

Ah so that?s the route he?s going to go down. Clever.

? ? and so I suggest to this Council that two of us, chosen randomly each time, be appointed each month to assist Mage Morkwin in his surveillance of the Argonian and Daryen. I apologise to Mage Morkwin for the trouble involved, but I humbly ??

?Humbly?. Humbug! Hypocrite!

?- request that he make two copies of his special Receiver Stones, so that we may be able to do the work we discussed.?

And also try to find out the secret, and copy the stones. Yes, I thought you?d say that. Which is why I have prepared some special stones just for you ? they shall transmit as well as receive, and I can also select what you see and what you don?t!!!

You are all so predictable. Which is why in spite of all your intelligence, you are easy to trap. Now with a show of reluctance, I must give in and give you the Stones you lust for.

?Very well?it will take a few days, though. I agree that the Council needs to be in the picture and so I agree to the proposal by Mage ?Mind-Like-Whip? that there should be a random selection. Now, to move on to the secrets we have obtained so far, and the latest appraisal of the political situation in King Silath?s Court??

They say too many cooks spoil the broth. But I?ll employ them to cook me up a plot!