FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 4

Eldrin woke abruptly much earlier than his usual time. He was panting and sticky, hair plastered to his body with sweat. He sat up immediately, overwhelmed by the sense that some malevolent entity was there in the room with him. The room was pitch black with no windows in the lower level, and no lights had been lit._Valka! He's trying to kill me!_He threw a ball of light from one splayed palm in a panic, the pale green globe stinging Eldrin's eyes and sending long shadows crawling up the walls. His eyes darted to every dark corner of the room, but his door was still shut and the Mazken, obviously, was not there. Then rationality trickled back and Eldrin knew that a nightmare must have woke him up. He sighed heavily and flopped back down onto the pillows, then wriggled with disgust. The bed was soaked with sweat. He laid there for a moment, trying to remember -

_A mass of boneless gray flesh, stretching and bubbling like magma as it oozed over rocks. Putrid yellow liquid dripping from a disembodied eyeball. A multitude of voices whispering all at once, too low and too many to pick out a single word. T_he images and sounds that accompanied them were all vague impressions, barely comprehensible yet deeply disturbing. Eldrin groaned and rolled out of bed. He was definitely not falling asleep again after that.

It was a few hours later that Eldrin and Teris came strolling along to the forager pit with Valka in tow. Down the hill from the Manor District was a more working-class area. Homes were made of rougher stucco, still more or less in the shape of giant mole crabs, but not as refined or as decorated in their shapes as the manors of the wealthy. They were closer together, and the thorny trama ran riot between them and in the little squares and alleys. In some places vines covered the buildings as well, where people were too busy and tired to cut them away. They cast strange shadows at all times of day.

In one of the small squares a tiny arena had been set up, fatter trama roots pushed out into a circle around a central gab. Men would gather to squat or kneel in the dust around this, sometimes on a rug if you were posh, and toss kwama foragers in to fight each other. A colored ribbon around each one would tell them apart for those that were similar-looking. They didn't even have to be taunted; foragers would instinctively attack anything not from their own hill or mine. They had to be kept in cages and only grabbed just behind the head, so that they could not bring their round lipless jaws to bear.

Zoso came down a couple of mornings a week, when it was cool and unlikely to be ashy. There was a particular forager he always bet on, a fat red thing called Su-Su that was owned by a workman who cleaned the guard towers. Su-Su was more venomous than usual and was undefeated. It was rumored his owner was feeding him bittergreen to keep him from pupating. Today it was just him and Lothon, his closest friend and the son of his father's business partner in their jewelry business. They were aware of Eldrin's old uncle as one who had been a professional rival of note before he had mostly dropped out of the market. Now they knelt on a rug, looking over the cages as the workmen paraded them past, laughing and taunting each other.

Eldrin had spent some time collecting his friend; he was groggy and slow to rise, as Eldrin had expected, but they shared breakfast while laughing over last night's excitement. Then Eldrin showed off his new servant to Teris's mother and younger sisters while waiting for the other mer to get himself ready.

Valka followed Eldrin impassively, looking around at the pressed mass of mer. They were dressed differently from his master and Teris. There were rich and poor in the Isles, and its courtiers wore if anything much more ridiculous extremes of fashion, though he had only seen them passing in the streets. He had not been fortunate or unfortunate enough to be assigned to guard the Madgod's palace, both blessed to be near the Master of All and cursed to be near his mortal retinue.

"Look at this rabble. Why is hanging around dirty commoners so fun to you?" Eldrin asked with mock scorn. He was aware of heads turning as they passed, people backing up and giving space to the young mer with the daedra while they pointed and whispered to one another. This pleased Eldrin very much.

"These people know how to have fun. It's all they've got," Teris said. They were walking through rows of cages, some distance away from the actual ring. Teris had broken off a dead piece of trama root as they walked, and now he squatted down to poke it through the bars of a cage- the owner didn't seem to be around. The kwama forager inside made an angry, high-pitched screeching noise and snapped the stick with its tooth-ringed mouth. It immediately spit the end out when the thorns stabbed the inside of its mouth, then threw its fat little body against the bars, trying to get at its tormentor. Teris just laughed and stood up.

"Hey!" he said, pointing at the arena. "Isn't that Zoso? Haha!" Eldrin followed his friend's gaze and indeed it was Zoso Varfayn kneeling at the other opposite end of the ring. Teris grabbed Eldrin by the arm and pushed him in that direction, grinning. They didn't even have to shove their way through the masses. People made way readily when they saw Valka.

"Hey, look, it's Eldrin and his new purple bitch," Lothon said, grabbing Zoso's shoulder. They were much of a type, and neither was terribly different in appearance from Eldrin or any other young Dunmer nobleman; only the particular details of style and features varied. Zoso wore his dark hair in a looped braid, and Lothon's was naturally white, cut to his shoulders with the front drawn back from his face in a short, high tail. Today both wore less expensive garb, linen tunics over softer silk undershirts and baggy black linen pants. It was a fact that Zoso was markedly less handsome either than Eldrin or than his companion. Lothon had fine cheekbones and a symmetrical face, jaw sharp but not too sharp, where Zoso had eyes that were very small and far apart and made him look a bit like a nix-hound.

"That asshole's got some nerve," Zoso growled under his breath. "I halfway think he Frenzied me or something."

"Hey, at least he's not with Gellesir."

"Don't mention her name to me again, Lothon, I'm pretending she's dead."

"Ha, fair enough."

Only the smug awareness that he knew something Eldrin didn't kept Zoso from trying to cut the smug look from Eldrin's damn girly face right there.

"Are you here to bet, Llethri?" he sneered. "Or are you here looking for a girlfriend for when your new one gets tired of you?"

"Just because a toothless forager is the only thing you can get to suck your sad little dick doesn't mean I'm about to try it," Eldrin said, grinning, arms crossed over his chest. Teris laughed wildly, shaking Eldrin's shoulder with both hands. That made Eldrin's smile broaden.

"Where IS your girlfriend, Zoso?" Teris asked gleefully as he pulled away.

Zoso's smile evaporated. He was aware of Lothon beside him trying hard not to laugh, shoulders twitching. He pulled it back on with an effort, but it was a colder and nastier expression.

"Who cares? There's plenty more like her." He shrugged. "If I were you I'd be worried more about your own egg mines and not some Outlander bit of fluff."

Valka listened to this exchange with indifference, noting words and phrases in case they might be of use later.

Eldrin's smile faltered just slightly, face hardening.

"Wow, what a low blow," he mocked. "The worst dig you can think up is about a few sick kwama? I wonder just how many guys that bitch was fucking around with behind your back if that's how dense you are."

Zoso, watching closely, grinned more broadly as he recognized that he'd hit home. "Not so dense I wouldn't know if my own uncle was blighting my own kwama, sweetcheeks."

"Do you want me to kill them?" Valka leaned forward to whisper in Eldrin's ear, judging that the moment of temper zenith was approaching. Perhaps if he could get Eldrin to publicly have him murder someone the ring would be confiscated.

Eldrin's eyes narrowed at Zoso.

"What the hells are you talking-" And then Valka's offer registered and Eldrin whirled to glare up at him. "No, Valka, you can't just kill people on the street! B'vek! Unless YOU want a blowjob from a kwama that has all its teeth you'd better stop trying to fuck with me!"

Teris burst out laughing again, pounding his thigh with one fist and holding his belly with the other.

"What did he ask you to merit a threat like that?" Teris howled.

"He wanted to know if he could kill these guys," Eldrin snapped. He didn't think it was at all funny.

Valka squinted, trying to decide if that was actually worse than the punishment he had initially thought the most awful thing he could invent.

"Why do all of your plans for torturing me physically seem to involve bestiality?"

"I think the answer to that is obvious," Zoso said, trying to recover ground after being momentarily frozen by Eldrin's remark. Obviously he wasn't going to be killed by a daedra in broad daylight in Ald'ruhn. That was ridiculous. "It's because he's a pervert. And everybody knows the other Llethris turned the disease loose on your father's stock, idiot. You're all alone, and soon you'll be poor. That's probably a fate worse than death for a fancy lady like you." He made a flippy hand gesture suggesting effeminacy.

"Even Teris won't show up to suck your dick then," Lothon chimed in.

Teris had stopped laughing and now he frowned at the others.

"You're the one who-" Teris began, but he was interrupted by an enraged Eldrin shrieking, "You thrice-damned s'wit!" and jumping madly at Zoso, fist pulled back to bash him in his stupid nix-eyed face.

Zoso's nose pulped under his fist, blood streaming down his face as he staggered backward. Lothon was dead sober this time, and waiting for trouble to start. He grabbed for Eldrin's shirt-front, steel tanto upraised, and was about to slash at Eldrin's face when Valka's gauntleted fist closed around his weapon hand. The Mazken stepped calmly between them. There was a_crunch_as fragile bones were smashed between unyielding gauntlet and unyielding hilt. Lothon's scream drew many eyes to them, men with cages in their hands backing quickly away from the obvious signs of trouble. Nobody wanted to call the guards. Fighting kwama foragers for bets wasn't exactly legal, but it was usually overlooked.

Eldrin was already throwing a second punch at the side of Zoso's face with his left fist when Lothon's hand closed around his shirt, but he hardly felt the brief yank before the mer was forced to release him. Eldrin's face was contorted in such fury that Teris would scarcely have recognized his friend if he had been able to see it, but he stood behind, gaping in momentary confusion.

The mer with the broken hand was no longer a threat, eyes streaming as he whitened in impending shock. It was a useful characteristic of mortal bodies, that particular reaction to injury. Valka let go of his hand and allowed him to stagger back as he stepped forward to catch at Eldrin's arm. He didn't want to do it, nothing would please him more than to allow Eldrin enough rope to hang himself, but he couldn't come up with an interpretation of his orders that would allow that in a situation like this.

_But next time I need help..._Curse all mortals and their vague, broad instructions. Another blow to the broken nose could easily drive shards into the other Dunmer's brain. Zoso was dozy and staggering, dull-eyed.

"You are about to take a life," Valka said. "Be very certain that is what you intend."

Eldrin's head whipped aside, eyes landing on the Mazken's. His lips were pulled back from gritted teeth in an ugly snarl and he was panting hard through his nose.

They stood in an expanding circle of space and silence. Even the foragers in the fighting ring had been taken away. The sudden quiet seemed a greater jolt to Teris than the scream had been and he jumped forward, grabbing Eldrin's arm on the side opposite Valka.

"Come on, Eldrin! We need to get the fuck out of here right now!" he shouted, yanking Eldrin back. Eldrin didn't nod, he just turned and ran, letting Teris drag him along by the arm. He let go when he was sure Eldrin was sane enough to follow, sprinting through the crowd that readily made space for them, and then they were flying through alleyways and side streets.

The Mazken kept up easily, boots thudding along behind them with unnatural regularity. He looked around them as they went, trying to keep track of the route. The streets of this place were no more labyrinthine than what was normal to him, but they were new and unfamiliar. He was gradually beginning to associate alien sounds and smells with their sources:sharp tang of a plant with green leaves, milder scent of the fat gray fines with the thorns. Earthy dense smell of the buildings themselves, made from some kind of stiffened earth. Taint of bitter ash, painful to the nose.

Eldrin didn't stop until Teris did, catching himself against a wall with his arms to stop abruptly. They were out back of some business in the poorer end of town, the alley half concealed from the main road by a cluster of similar pod-like shell structures enclosing the space on three sides. There was a pile of something rotting on the ground, like someone had just thrown leftover food scraps between the buildings.

Teris braced his hands on his thighs, panting, while Eldrin heaved against the wall. That went on for what seemed like forever as they fought to catch their breath. Valka turned with his back to them, keeping guard. From behind, the helmet could be seen turning to and fro as he looked up and down the alley.

"B'vek! What am I going to do?!" Eldrin cried when he had wind enough to do it. "Fifty people or more saw me hit him first! Almsivi! Valka, what did you do to Lothon?!"

"I broke most of the bones in his hand," Valka said. "Regrettably, I also prevented him from stabbing you. He will probably be ill for a day or so after he is healed, but he will not die."

"Ha, Eldrin, your daedra is a bit lippy," Teris said.

"This isn't a joke!"

"Hey, calm down," Teris said softly, holding his hands up. "They won't get any witnesses to speak for them. None of those guys are going to admit to an Ordinator they were betting on kwama fights."

"Are you stupid?" Eldrin snapped, glaring at his friend. "All it takes is ONE person to corroborate Zoso's story, and he could pay one of those peons triple their fine! And do you really think neither of their parents will tell my father what happened? I'm in deep muck here!" Eldrin was pacing frantically, his hands alternating between holding his forehead or clenching in the air. He started chewing his thumbnail when he was finished speaking.

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry." Teris stood with hands on his hips, staring thoughtfully at the ground, lips pursed. Then he looked up at Eldrin and shrugged. "I mean, it won't be the first time you've been arrested. Just pay the fine."

Eldrin stopped pacing, clenched fists dropping to his side.

"My father cut me off."

"Huh?"

"Those things Zoso was saying about our mines... it was true. I didn't realize just how bad things were until now. Father hasn't said so directly, but I think he's close to being broke. That's probably why he's pushing my marriage so hard." He wasn't able to look Teris in the eye. These kinds of financial troubles were so far off the map for the Rothalen family that Teris probably couldn't begin to comprehend it. He glanced up, saw the sympathy plain on Teris's softened brow, and his frown deepened. Eldrin did not want his pity.

And then, there was the thing Zoso had said about his Uncle Llethri sabotaging the mines... could that actually be true? Why? What had his father ever done to warrant that treatment? It didn't make any sense to Eldrin, but then why would the queens in two separate colonies get sick with blight at nearly the same time? Did Garisa just want to watch his own brother grovel and beg for help?

"I have to go," Eldrin said abruptly. "Teris, you should go home. I might not have long before the guards come looking for me. If they come to your house, tell them you don't know where I am, would you?"

Teris blinked.

"Well, if you don't come with me then I really won't know. But Eldrin, you have a funny look on your face. What are you thinking?"

"Will you please just do as I ask?" Eldrin said stiffly. "I'll come see you when all of this is cleared up. Valka, you are dismissed."_Good riddance,_Eldrin thought without turning to look at the Mazken's dissolution. If he'd been thinking more clearly Eldrin might have noted that having Valka around had brought him nothing but trouble so far, but he was too busy thinking ahead to the problem of Garisa Llethri. As much as he hated to grant Valka his temporary freedom, right now being followed around by a hulking purple daedra would not benefit him.

"Eldrin-" Teris seemed lost for words, holding out a hand helplessly, but Eldrin clapped him on the shoulder and turned away. He jogged to the mouth of the alley and stopped there, glancing around get his bearings. "Go home, Teris!" he shouted over his shoulder, and then he took off in the direction of Uncle Zulkan's manor.

Eldrin wasn't sure how to proceed, but Zulkan always had good advice. He had not steered the Dunmer wrong yet.

---

To find himself back in Cylarne would have been a relief to Valka had he not materialized almost on top of an Aureal warrior who was looking over the spear he had last dropped. She was kneeling in the leaves, turning it in her hands. She recovered first, while his eyes were still adjusting to the proper light, and his dagger had only just cleared its sheath when the spear embedded itself in his chest above his armor. He threw the knife even as pain exploded inside him, loud_crack_of his sternum splitting, and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes go wide and blank in the moment before he heard his own heart stop. He was aware of his body hitting the ground, leaves flying up around him as it all went numb and dark.

He made his way back through the Void still seething. It took him longer than usual because sullen anger distracted him from concentrating on his destination. Only the Madgod's gibbering voice finally oriented him and drew him home. He was bone, was agonized screaming nerves, was muscle, was flesh. He kicked his way to the surface of the fountain pool and grabbed for the stone rim, gasping, teeth gritted. He was now back to the lowest rank, daggers that he had used for years in possession of the enemy, and it was all thanks to that mortal idiot's inability to control himself. He had hoped to make trouble for Eldrin, not for himself.

"Move it," a guard snapped at him, prodding him in the hip with the butt of a spear. "Go get your gear issued, kiskengo."

"Yes, Ma'am," Valka panted, head down, and stumbled toward the door of the massive stone chamber, the floor cold under his naked feet. Behind him he heard the splash as another Mazken surfaced from the Wellspring. It must've been a woman. He heard her staggering toward the opposite door from the one in front of him. There was another man ahead of him, dispiritedly drying off with a bit of sack before climbing into his new armor. He was a paler pink, probably able to pass for human if he was sent to perform espionage in Bliss or in Nirn. They did not speak as Valka received his issued armor - the same size as everyone else's - and dressed himself. Both were suffused with the same shame.

This was his punishment for telling a mortal his name without checking that the mer was not from Crucible. This was his punishment for being careless even for one moment: an eternity of being intermittently trapped in a hell of ash and gray skies and lorded over by a creature who, ostensibly sane, had as little control over his impulses as the madmen of the Isles. It was a wonder the women in his life let him run around loose. Perhaps his female progenitor was dead. That might actually explain the reference to an arranged marriage. Possibly his father didn't know what to do with him and hoped a strong female hand might be able to control him as well as improve their fortunes.

And yet there had been something about that other world that he did not remember from his time with Kerghed, even something that he did not often see in the mortals of the Isles. Eldrin had people around him who spoke to him unguardedly, who touched him, whom he seemed to just assume would not attack him for advantage in the next moment. He could not forget Teris constantly grabbing at Eldrin's shoulder, them leaning on each other as they went home through the storm. He was not a creature designed to wither and die without touch - but -

But -

But what? This was sentimental nonsense. He had suffered a reversion of fortune and was demoralized, that was all. He accepted an issued spear, the haft dark wood, the hand-sized leaf-shaped point made of dull-colored metal whose edges would be deceptively sharp. It was a cutting weapon as well as a stabbing one. He whirled it experimentally in both hands, reminding himself of the weapon's use, and stepped out of the darkness of the armor into the brightness of the courtyard. He went directly to the grakendo by the gate and tapped his heels together, head bowed. She was very dark-skinned, great wings folded about her shoulders like a cape. She had chosen not to retract them.

"And who are you?" she asked. He looked straight at the wall ahead, aware of her eyes flickering up and down his body.

"Kiskengo Valka, Ma'am."

"Where was your last assignment before you fell?" she asked, voice harsh and disinterested.

"Cylarne, Ma'am."

"You died at Aureal hands." He did not flinch at the cold disapproval in her tone, eyes straight ahead.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I should kill you again just for that."

"Yes, Ma'am," he agreed dully. He braced himself, knowing how this conversation was likely to end, but she settled for backhanding him with her sword hilt. He staggered back, tasting blood in his mouth, and resumed the position of attention as quickly as he could.

"I don't want to see you again. You're assigned to the garrison at Stipplehand. Maybe in a thousand years you will again have the privilege of dying at Cylarne. It's about fifty miles to the East. Start walking."

"Yes, Ma'am! Thank you, Ma'am!"

He dipped his head in salute again and walked quickly out the gate to turn toward the golden glow on the horizon. It would take him a couple of days to walk that far, ignoring time interrupted by the accursed summons of the ring. At least it would be quiet.

---

La'zira answered the door in a loose white cotton robe that was falling off one shoulder, rubbing her eyes. She squinted at Eldrin, then straightened quickly, ears held quiveringly high. "Master Eldrin! Zulkan is upstairs. If you would sit by the dining room fire I will fetch him at once!"

Eldrin glanced the slave over from head to toe and stifled his disapproving frown.

"Of course," he said breathlessly. He was still panting from the run over. He made his way to the dining room and flopped down into a chair in front of the fire, leaning back and closing his eyes while he caught his breath, hands tight on the arm rests. Stray hairs were plastered to his face with sweat, his overexcited heart thudding loud in his ears. Eldrin did not want to go to jail. The one other time he had been too drunk to really understand what was going on- he spent some time retching in the corner and then passed out, and a few hours later his father came to drag him home. Spending days, weeks in a stinking cell not only would be pure mental torture, but it would be a waste of his precious freedom, slowly trickling away like sand in an hourglass even now.

But Garisa Llethri! Eldrin's fury toward his uncle was greater even than his fears. Something had to be done about him now with Eldrin's rage still burning red hot, not after the long humiliation of jail and possibly even a trial. Eldrin leaned forward, elbows resting on his spread knees, hands clasped. He stared into the fire with his lips pressed tightly together and a very faraway look in his eyes while he waited.

Zulkan blinked sleepily at the slave's breathless report, then hastily climbed into his pants, hopping on one foot. "All right, get yourself dressed, girly. You shouldn't have answered the door in a robe. You know what that looks like. Bring out my sujamma and then go help Makes-Fine-Breads in the kitchen. He'll probably be hungry."

"Yes, Serjo," the Khajiit grinned unrepentantly and scooted for her own room down in the servant quarters.

He dressed himself and put up his hair in its usual sloppy bun as quickly as he could. So Eldrin had already run up against young Zoso, had he? It surely had to be that. That or he'd done something really quite stupid with the Mazken a great deal sooner than Zulkan had expected. He had known his nephew to be a bit volatile. Perhaps he ought to have waited on sending the brick with its embedded contents home with him.

He put on his plain brown shoes and a dark green tunic and went downstairs still buckling his belt. He was alert enough to look Eldrin over carefully as he went into the dining room. His face immediately crumpled with sympathy, then smoothed out as he moved forward.

"Almsivi, nephew, what've you been doing to yourself?"

"Uncle!" Eldrin straightened and brightened when the mer entered and then jumped out of his chair to move urgently toward Zulkan. "I'm sorry to drop in like this, but I don't have much time- you know the situation between my father and Councilman Llethri, don't you? Do you think it's possible the problems in our egg mines were caused purposely by him?"

Eldrin already believed it, but there was still that lingering doubt that perhaps Zoso had only been trying to stir him up. Eldrin needed to hear a second opinion before he acted rashly.

"Ugh, boy, you need a wash. I think you've still got a change in the guest room - what?" Zulkan stopped, blinking, with his hands on Eldrin's upper arms. "Councilman Llethri? Why should he - what would he have to gain? It's not as though your father was having an effect on his business, was he?" He let go of Eldrin with a pat, moving toward the fire to hold out his hands. His serious frown said he was not at all sure on that point.Never be too obvious. Never state what you can get the other to say for you.

Eldrin looked down at himself momentarily, realized he was sweaty and dusty from running through the streets, and might even smell like the garbage from the alley. That didn't matter right now! He looked desperately up at Zulkan's retreating back and followed after him to stand in front of the fire.

"Well no, of course not. But Garisa is a vindictive asshole and he never approved of my father marrying-" he paused. It was not like Zulkan didn't understand that the Narave family had carried less prestige, or that the Llethri family had protested Gilan's marriage to Minasi Narave. Still, Eldrin felt horrible reminding his uncle of that. "-my mother." His shoulders sank a little and he looked away from the side of Zulkan's face, staring into the flames.

Zulkan shook his head slowly, heavily.

"Let it go, Eldrin. There's nothing else we can do. Marry this girl. Live a good life. I don't want you ruining your life over this, do you understand? Forgive and forget is the only way to go on. I don't want you to go the way of Saschi's girl. Things were never the same after she went to that shop under Skar down under the South walkway. What happened today to bring you to me?"

_Ruin my life?! Garisa Llethri is the one who ruined it for me!_Eldrin's hands clenched uselessly at his sides and he inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring, but slowly he released the rage. He had been hoping Uncle Zulkan could give him some practical advice for dealing with this situation, but what had he expected? There was nothing to be done against so powerful a mer, and without evidence of any wrongdoing...

Saschi? Elade Saschi? The one who tried to sabotage a smithy? Elade Saschi had tried to sabotage a rival smith's business by hiding an enchanted piece of iron under the Charui family's forge. She had eventually been found out because she went back to get it. The entire family had been ruined, fled in disgrace to Cyrodiil, it was said. She had bought the cursed iron right here in town? Eldrin slowly registered that Zulkan had asked him something else and he glanced up in mild confusion, still half-processing his earlier thought.

"It's a bit of a long story," he sighed.Not really. I hit someone without "provocation." Repeatedly."I'm sorry, Uncle, I've been so rude. I didn't even thank you for your gift- it turns out that the Valka of the ring is a Mazken, a male. Isn't that rare? The females outnumber males something like ten to one, don't they? He's a bit difficult, but he did save me from getting stabbed in the face today, I suppose."

"Please tell me your Mazken hasn't killed anyone, boy," Zulkan said, turning to him in alarm. This was entirely genuine. He had many plans for Eldrin yet, and the fine for a murder charge was beyond his present means without calling in favors whose source might readily be questioned.

"No, no! Nothing like that! Valka can't disobey me and I've already told him he's forbidden to kill anyone," Eldrin said quickly. "Would you like to see him?"

"Thank Almsivi. I don't know that summoning him will help us right now, Eldrin." He ran a hand over his face. "I - no, they're not common at all. The females are stronger, so most mages don't consider the males worth trying to summon. This one must be unusual for it to have been worth it for old Kerghed."

Eldrin had made a mistake. His original orders to Valka were never to do harm to a mortal without permission. Later he had contradicted himself by ordering Valka to help him if he needed help, which Valka had obviously been able to interpret as allowing him to physically hurt someone in defense of his master. Although Valka knew Eldrin did not want him to kill anyone, it was possible that in the future he might interpret such action as a necessity. But Eldrin had not fully thought that through.

"It was a stupid situation. I was at the forager pit with Teris and we ran into Zoso Varfayn and Lothon Sarathram. There was an argument. I- well, Zoso verbally provoked me and I punched him in the head several times. Lothon tried to cut me but Valka crushed his hand. Then we ran away..." Again he could not look his uncle in the eye. Zulkan was much more permissive than his father and would not lecture him as harshly, but in the back of his mind Eldrin understood that his behavior wasn't really okay with anyone.

"Oh, sweet Three." Zulkan stared at him in disbelief. This, too, was genuine. He hadn't actually been sure Eldrin even was involved in gambling on foragers. He'd obviously given his nephew credit for more intelligence than he actually possessed. This was looking more and more like it might prove to be a short-lived mistake on his part. "If you were at the pits I assume a lot of people probably saw this?" He turned to shout into the kitchen. "'Zirra! Where's that drink! And bring an extra glass!"

"Yes..." Eldrin covered his face with his hand and sunk back into the chair. The mention of what he assumed to be mazte made him ache for a drink, even though Eldrin knew that it would be best to keep a clear head now of all times. But hells, if he was going to spend the next few weeks in jail? Maybe just a little.

His hand dropped to his lap.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," he said miserably. "I wish I had dirt on Zoso, something that would really destroy him if I went public, to blackmail him with. Ugh. His family is too poor and unimportant to do anything really scandalous."

"By this point blackmail is probably a moot point," Zulkan said. The Khajiit, warned by his tone, hurried in with a pitcher and two clay cups and poured them out each a draught of mazte. "He'll have spoken to the guards and been corroborated. No, you'll have to pay the fine." He sighed, rubbing between his eyes. "I might be able to help you. Nobody died. It can't be that high." He groped around for the cup and took a sip. Alcohol stung his palate faintly, a familiar and comforting hurt. "But you can't do this again, Eldrin. If you keep attracting the guards' attention there's not much I can do for you."

Eldrin sighed with relief, sinking even further into the chair. He hadn't been aware of how tense he'd been.

"Thank you, Uncle. I promise I'll pay you back someday when I've got myself sorted out." "Someday" was a thing Eldrin truly believed in, even if he had never given any serious thought as to how he would arrive there, wealthy and popular and doing something exceptionally prestigious. The concept of working hard to achieve a goal had so far escaped him, perhaps because he had no real goals.

He reached for his cup, holding his breath as he brought it to his lips. The mazte burned going down, a cheaper drink with a much harsher taste than he was used to. Eldrin didn't like it, but he wasn't going to turn down a drink.

"I don't intend to do it again, believe me," Eldrin said earnestly. "In fact I think I'll be lying low for a while after this is cleared up."

Zulkan smiled very slightly at "someday." Salla had believed in that wonderful and far, far away place as well. She'd never quite got there.

"Of course you will. And I think lying low is probably a good idea. Rest up. Avoid trouble."

Keep playing with your daedra and getting in trouble so that when I finally have to cut you loose, no one will blame me.

"But I'm very serious about the wash. Don't make me get Bakes-Fine-Breads in here with a bucket."

"I'm going, I'm going," he said, smiling. He downed the rest of his cup and stood to head upstairs, in an infinitely better mood than before. The situation with Zoso had been cleared up, or at least it would be soon. But what about Garisa Llethri? The more Eldrin thought of it during his bath, the angrier he became. He wasn't going to accept this lying down! If Garisa wanted to stoop to dirty tricks, Eldrin could do the same. He decided that he would pay that shop under-skar a visit. Possibly nothing would come of it, but it was a start.

Eldrin's father must not know. He would argue against retaliation, just like Uncle Zulkan. That made Eldrin even more furious, that his father would let himself be humiliated in such a way. But that was fine. Eldrin had the balls to do his own dirty work, even if his father didn't.

He spent a long time scrubbing the stink of the streets from his hair and body and then dressed in his own spare clothes left behind in the guest room, linen underclothes below a blue satin robe less lavish than his usual dress. He did not try so hard to impress his uncle when he spent time at his manor, especially since the older mer seemed completely oblivious to current fashions. Eldrin could only find house slippers, so he was forced to wear his dusty shoes, but he left the rest of his clothes behind to be laundered. He grabbed a dull olive, tasseled shawl to protect from the ash.

Because Eldrin was technically responsible for the actions of his summoned servant, Uncle Zulkan sent him off with four thousand drakes, enough to pay for the assault on both Dunmer. It didn't matter that Lothon had tried to strike Eldrin first. He was quite sure the guards had already heard a slightly different version of those events, and arguing probably wouldn't do him any good.

Eldrin could have offered to pay for part of the fine with his own gold, but he didn't mention that he still had any. Uncle Zulkan wasn't destitute, and Eldrin might need it soon, and he really did intend to pay him back. Someday.

Paying the fine was a simple matter. It was all very businesslike, the courthouse feeling more like a bunch of regular offices than anything else. Dunmer justice was very practical in that way. Just like that Eldrin was free of one major burden and he could walk unhurriedly with his head held high again as he made his way under-skar, humming the foreboding overture from_The Horror of Castle Xyr_to himself as he went.

The shop under skar was indeed pushed back under the Southern walkway, the doorway in deep shadow. A sign creaked gently with the movement of the slats above, the crude symbol for an Enchanter worked in white paint on a brown background. In case of full illiteracy there was also a rough drawing of a grand soul gem. This corner of the great shell was quieter, though the sound of feet and voices could be heard in the distance, around the more trafficked merchants closer to the main walkway. It was necessary to climb up and down the grooves of the shell, a half-dozen-little hills, to get to the door.

Inside, the light was dimmer than in the main chamber. Red paper lanterns hung above the counter and from the ceiling at intervals. The counter stood in front of a plaster wall that probably concealed the back storage area, crimson beaded curtains hanging to either side of it. There was a thick, cloying scent of incense in the air, not quite floral, not quite musk. Eldrin felt something was familiar about it, but not clear, like a half-remembered dream. Objects lay scattered about the countertop: amulets of various levels of newness and fineness, from a plain bean-shaped clay thing to an elegant gemstone-encrusted golden medallion with four arms like a star; stacks of folded clothing, the fabric almost opalescent when the viewer's eyes moved, a slick greasy sheen; weapons of all shapes, mostly steel and iron.

Behind the counter stood a middle-aged Dunmer woman with her hair dressed in braids pinned to a high arch covered in beads, a style suggesting the Ashlander without fulling committing to feathers or bits of wood. There was scarification along her cheekbones, an arched row of dots on each side. Her clothes were particularly fine, a skirt with elaborate silver-threaded embroidery over the dark teal fabric and a loose blouse of dark red velvet embroidered with the same thread. Her leather belt was embossed with a pattern of twirling vines. Beneath this finery her face was calm, distant, hollow, as if she were thinking of things far distant from here. She looked at Eldrin without seeming to see him.

Eldrin walked slowly along the length of the counter, fingering the strands of shiny black hair that fell across his shoulder as he eyed the wares with curiosity and some trepidation. Something about the atmosphere of the shop had quickened his pulse, but Eldrin couldn't quite place why he found it so unsettling. Perhaps it was the shopkeeper- she seemed high on skooma, and that strangely familiar incense might have been meant to mask the spell. Maybe this was all an elaborate cover for a drug den. Still, some of these items were beautifully crafted, and Eldrin wished he had known about the place before his father tightened the coin purse. It was difficult to look at the glittering things he knew he couldn't have, a strange sensation Eldrin had never really experienced before.

The shopkeeper's voice was high, lilting, still seemingly far-away.

"Good morning, Serjo. What is your pleasure?"

Eldrin jumped just a little when she spoke to him.

"Three blessings, Sera. I was looking for- Well." Eldrin looked down at the counter, brushing his fingers over a silver brooch shaped like a muskfly. The flat, polished gemstones on its long wings were arranged like stained glass, the stone streaked in shades of blue and flecked with gold and green. He could feel an enchantment prickle at his skin, but couldn't tell what it might be.

Eldrin suddenly felt very stupid. It was just a rumor that Elade Saschi had bought her enchanted iron here, and if the story were true, they wouldn't sell such things to just anyone. How much did it cost to curse someone, anyway?

"I'm not sure," Eldrin finally said, shrugging one shoulder. His other hand still anxiously stroked his hair. "I need an enchantment that does the opposite of turning you into a shrewd businessman. Something that would make you squander your wealth stupidly, make all the wrong choices. Does that make sense?" Eldrin half expected the woman to snap out of her dreamy stupor and send him away for asking for something illegal.

The woman regarded him with a look almost of amusement, gray brows lifting slowly.

"What you ask is not bought for coin," she said. "If one were in possession of such a thing, the price would be quite different."

Eldrin's brows drew together in minor puzzlement, tensing just slightly.

" If one were in possession of such a thing, what would it be bought for?" he asked carefully.This is it, it's definitely skooma related. Now she's going to ask me to break some addict's legs.

The woman looked around slowly, as if checking to see if anyone was listening. There was definitely no one else in the shop with them, and the door remained resolutely shut.

"Five miles to the North lies the ancestral tomb of Hlavren Nazthiri," the other mer said. "In the lowest chamber of the tomb you will find the skull of Hlavren himself. It is bound in crimson, marked with the words that bind him. Bring me this skull and I will give you such a thing as will destroy your enemy from within without ever being suspected. But do not be foolish. A thing once done cannot be undone."

Eldrin stared at the woman blankly for a moment before outrage etched itself across his features.

"You want me to desecrate a tomb?" he blurted more shrilly than intended, curled fists landing on the countertop. Then his voice dropped to a hiss for the irrational fear that someone might overhear and he leaned forward, glaring venomously at her. "Lady, what in the name of Almsivi is going on here? What do you need that skull for?"

She gazed back serenely, eyes traveling slowly to his fists and back up to his face.

"Why do you need an enchanted item that will injure a person's judgement, Serjo?"

Eldrin opened his mouth but shut it again almost immediately._I'm the customer here. I ask, you provide!_he thought, but he realized this was not a normal, everyday thing he was seeking, and getting belligerent with the shopkeeper probably wouldn't help his case. He straightened and backed away one step, bringing his hands to his sides. He was still frowning severely.

"I have to think about this," he said stiffly.

"Of course, Serjo. It is not a decision to be made lightly." She smiled at him gently. "When you are ready, we will be here waiting. Have a pleasant day."

Eldrin didn't return the greeting. He huffed through his nose, whirled away and moved briskly to the exit, although he shut door behind himself like a normal person. He looked up, saw people moving on the walkway over his head, and Eldrin hurried away from the door lest someone look down through the slats at their feet and notice him standing in front of that profane shop. The nerve of her, to ask him such a thing! Eldrin knew he ought to report the place to the Ordinators at once.

He was swinging his arms angrily as he climbed over the little hills and valleys of the crab shell, but Eldrin slowed as he calmed. As long as that woman kept nothing around to incriminate her, the Ordinators couldn't do anything. And there were perhaps other ways of taking revenge on Garisa Llethri, but none within his means were immediately obvious to Eldrin. Was he really thinking of robbing a tomb just to get what he wanted? Eldrin paused, disgusted with himself for even considering it.

"I call Valka," he said and glared at the spot in front of him as air and light twisted like heat rising over the ashlands. When the swirling wisps of color had grown opaque and formed the Mazken, Eldrin said irritably, "I hope you enjoyed your respite, Valka. You'll be glad to know I've cleared everything up with the Ordinators--" His tone suddenly lost its edge. "You didn't have a spear before."

---

Valka walked for some time over the purple bracken, little magenta lights occasionally glittering off in the brush or flickering in the leaves of the trees. They lit the way as the sky began to grow dim. Gradually he walked with straighter back as he grew calmer. It had happened before. It would happen again. There was no true advancement for a Mazken made crested and not cloven, and the sooner he accepted that, the better off he would be.

But still, he had made it to kiskella once. At least it was possible!

He was still mulling this over, quietly treading the pathless heather, when he felt the summons grip him. This time he found himself inside the shell of some giant creature long dead, distant creaks and cricks signifying the presence of walkways high above. There were mortal voices all around, soft and distant. Inevitably there was also Eldrin Llethri. Valka wrapped both hands around the shaft of the spear to lean his weight on it as he surveyed the Dunmer, who was dressed somewhat less finely than he had been the last time Valka had seen him.

"That is correct, Master Eldrin," he said coldly. "I had two daggers. I carried them for longer than you have been alive. And then I suddenly reappeared in the Shivering Isles directly in front of an armed Aureal, died slaying my foe, and lost both my equipment and all of the rank I have gained since my last death. I hope that your little tiff with your mortal rival was entirely worth that."

Eldrin smiled smugly at the Mazken before resuming his walk.

"It was entirely worth it to me, yes," he said mildly, glancing back at Valka with some curiosity. "You lose your rank when you die? So you are -were- someone important in the Isles?"

"All rank and privilege is lost on each loss of incarnation," Valka said. He perforce stalked after Eldrin, spear in hand. His tone gradually calmed as he reminded himself where he was, and why. Railing at Eldrin only increased the probability that he would be punished.

Punished... and dismissed. Perhaps I will have to see what it takes to really provoke him.

"I am not important in the slightest. I am a male. I have never attained a rank higher than kiskella, and mortal mer were born, grew old and died in Crucible in the time it took me to achieve that."

Looking ahead, the corners of Eldrin's mouth tugged thoughtfully downward, brows knitting. He knew the females outnumbered the males, but he didn't realize Mazken society was matriarchal. Sure, he had probably heard that fact before, but it hadn't stuck with him. Hells, he didn't even think of daedra as having any society to begin with. He had assumed the realm of the Madgod would be total anarchy, daedra roaming around like mindless beasts doing as they pleased until a mortal master granted meaning to their purposeless lives. Now Valka spoke of some military rank Eldrin had never heard of, and apparently his people were at war with the Golden Saints. There was... more depth to Valka's life than Eldrin expected.

Eldrin suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Taunting Valka further would bring him no joy, he realized sullenly.

"If you're unimportant there and unimportant here, why do you hate serving me so much?" Eldrin asked evenly, glancing over his shoulder. He was still frowning. Surely serving in Nirn could not be worse than dying countless times against immortal enemies in what had to be an eternal stalemate, the daedric armies replenishing their ranks as quickly as they fell.

"You disgust me," Valka said. "You die without slopping food and drink down your throat, and the results of that are even worse. It revolts me that I even possess those same structures, that they might ever have the same functions. You draw vermin to you by the very processes of existing. You spend half your life unconscious, helpless, inert." As he went on his tone gradually gained venom even as it lost volume, eventually becoming a furious whisper.

"You think your ways, your thoughts, are important, that they have ever mattered or will ever matter. In a thousand years no one will know your name, and yet I am forced to obey_you?_I am less than the lowest-ranking female in all of Sheogorath's kingdom, but my worth is inestimable compared to_yours,_Eldrin Llethri. You are nothing. Less than nothing. You are dust. And I will be trapped in your presence only as long as it takes for your mortal body to accept the truth and become what is true at last, and then I will be as free as it is ever possible for me to be."

Eldrin had stopped and turned to face the Mazken as he spoke, and just like that any seed of sympathy that might have been planted in Eldrin's heart was crushed to bits before it could hope to germinate. His face twisted in indignant rage, every muscle growing taut.

"Kneel," Eldrin snapped. The hatred in his eyes would have bored holes through Valka if Eldrin had his way.

Valka sank to his knees, eyes locked defiantly on the Dunmer's, lip lifted slightly in a sneer. To a woman, to a Mazken of rank, he would not have had the courage; one of them could have had him flayed alive slowly over weeks. At the moment he was too furiously angry to be afraid. He couldn't remember ever feeling that about anything.

He yielded up the spear without even trying to hold on even though he had not been told to release it. He thought he knew what was coming. It had happened before.

Eldrin flung the spear away and it rattled down the slope of a bony crest. The noise might have attracted the attention of someone above. The Dunmer didn't care.

With his left hand Eldrin lifted Valka's helmet to toss it away, and it too clanged against the floor. Then he fisted Valka's hair, tightening his grip close to the daedra's skull hard enough to pull, and jerked the Mazken's head back just enough to expose his throat. He never broke eye contact, glaring furiously down at the vibrant green eyes and seeing his own ugliness reflected there. With his right hand he drew his tanto, and with an underhand grip he thrust the blade into the left side of Valka's throat as hard as he possibly could. He felt the blade scrape bone inside.

"Good luck defending against the Aureals with your bare hands," Eldrin hissed, and he sawed the blade of the tanto toward himself. He could feel it cutting through cartilage and flesh.

Valka hissed in pain, teeth bared as he swallowed a groan, one small abortive noise. He would not give Eldrin the satisfaction even in his last moments. Air bubbled out through the widening hole in his throat even as blood spurted and flowed over Eldrin's hands. It was hotter than merish blood, almost boiling. The tears in his eyes were completely involuntary, and he damned himself for that weakness. He remembered vividly each time that he had had his throat cut. First there would be pain, and then ringing in his ears, and the world gradually grew dimmer and further away with each throb as strength fled from his limbs. His eyes lost focus without closing as he toppled slowly to the side. One leg twitched. Then the body dissolved into sparks. Even the blood on Eldrin's hands evaporated.

Eldrin's eyes widened and his lips parted in shock as hot blood gushed like a pulsing geyser from the wound, coating his hand, his sword, splattering his robe. There was so much more of it than Eldrin expected and it was red like mortal blood and the smell was overwhelming. His hand flexed against the hilt of the tanto, almost releasing it, but then he clenched down tighter. For a single moment Eldrin's hateful resolve was gone and his eyes reflected fear and disgust at what he had done, but then he stamped it out, gritted his teeth, and yanked the blade back while releasing Valka's hair to watch him fall and die.

---

Valka's boots hit the surface of the heather, plants collapsing spongily underfoot as he threw up one gauntlet instinctively. There was no Aureal in front of him. He was fifteen miles from the Wellspring and still a long way from Stipplehand.

No helm. No weapon. That was probably going to earn him a reprimand at his destination.

"Madgod forgive me, for I have been -"

Foolish? Ha ha! That's a good one, sonny boy. He paused, blinking, at the voice of deranged glee echoing through his head. We all need a little folly now and then. Oh, and you may want to look about yourself. Keep your head.

Valka looked around quickly, and it was at that moment that a young elytra drone rose vertically from a hollow in the ground and drove straight at him, wings humming in an alarming bass drone. He threw himself down as it unfolded a hooked arm and slashed at his unprotected throat. It whistled over its head, and then he cast his Burden upward and rolled quickly aside, crushing the bracken as the giant insect crashed to the ground. He scrambled to seize the last joint of one of its arms, bracing a boot and jerking backwards. There was a_crack_and a splash of ichor, and then he inverted the severed forearm and drove it at the slim juncture of the creature's head and neck.

---

Eldrin jumped at sudden coldness on his hand when the body finally dissolved and Eldrin looked down to see that all traces of blood were gone. Eldrin pressed his trembling hand to his robe front but it was dry. He had never killed anyone before, not even an animal. Any time he had cut a sparring partner it had been minor and accidental. The look on Valka's face had been the ugliest thing Eldrin had ever seen.

Slowly Eldrin sheathed his tanto, now clean of all evidence that it had ever slain anything at all, and then picked up both the helmet and the spear. Eldrin glanced upward. No one was looking at him. If anyone had watched him kill the Mazken, they had already grown disinterested and moved along. Rage quickly began to trickle back as Eldrin walked home.

Something had to be done about Valka. If he were a mortal slave Eldrin would just beat him, and after two or three times that would be the end of it. Eldrin was pretty sure that wouldn't work on Valka, but the idea of watching someone (or something) fuck Valka in bleeding wounds made Eldrin nearly physically ill. That had only been a threat. Eldrin couldn't do that to his worst enemy.

There was probably nothing Valka found abhorrent that Eldrin would be willing to actually do.

Honestly, Eldrin would have been happy to never see that sneering purple mug for the rest of his life. But he couldn't let Valka win the power struggle. Eldrin had to assert his dominance for the sake of his own pride, for the pride of all Dunmer. He would think of something.

Eldrin stopped by Teris's house to let him know everything was all right now and then he trudged home, feeling very conflicted. He couldn't rob a tomb to further his own goals... it was one of the dirtiest, lowest things a person could ever do. He wouldn't sully himself in that way. That's the decision he had arrived at when Eldrin opened his own front door and was almost immediately jumped by his father, who came out of his office with his arms tucked into the sleeves of his robes. He was trying to look angry, but mostly he just seemed tired.

"Do you have anything you want to tell me?" Gilan asked coldly. His eyes moved over the articles of Mazken make in Eldrin's hands before coming to rest on his face.

"No. Didn't the guards tell you already?" Eldrin said indifferently, without giving his father the privilege of eye contact. He rested the spear against the wall by the door so he could take the shawl off over his head and shake sand out on the floor of the foyer. Then he draped it over his arm and picked up the spear again to head below.

"The Savil's have invited us over for dinner a few days from now. Do you think you could manage not to further disgrace the Llethri name between now and then?"

Eldrin paused at the top of the steps._I'm the disgrace? The one begging money from the man who ruined him calls ME a disgrace?_In that instant Eldrin's decision reversed itself. He had to do_something,_anything, even if it might be the wrong thing. And if he were found out somehow, it didn't even matter! His father already thought Eldrin was lower than dirt.

"I'll try," Eldrin said, voice stiff with anger. "Am I excused, Father?"

"Yes. Go away to your room," Gilan said, disgusted, and turned back toward his own.