#he's the main focus but then there's nevena and a certain character from eso. you may know her from my url :)

[ervona]

Day 6: In Bloom / Blood for @tes-summer-fest

Somewhere in the mists of hopefully still Molag Amur, a boy had lost control of his guar. It was his fault, having ridden too far away from the lake, but he’d been meaning to turn around when it had knocked him off with never-before-seen force and started running away. He followed it still within sight, somewhat slowed down by his armor, but he would have to get used to it if he were ever to become a knight. At this point his absence was sure to be noticed, and Ser—

What was that? His guar let out a frightening cry. Alas, he wasn’t the first to reach it, though he had run so close and out of breath. There was an unfamiliar robed figure, a swipe of too-sharp claws, a sickly light, stains in the ash. He reached for his sword, heavy and slipping with sweat, when the sunken face came into sight and he screamed.

Help wouldn’t come, for he had ridden too far away. He could only pray to the ancestors now. His shaking legs tripped him up as he tried to run, the armor pinned him down beneath the looming wormlike snout and bloodied claws. Uncertain was which one of them was shrieking louder. Another flash of light caught his eye before he slipped on a rock and out of consciousness. 

When he came to, he was struck by the scent of flowers and a throbbing in his head. Was he taken to the Moonshadow? No, merely his bed, with a vase of fresh willow anther and stoneflowers for good health and peaceful sleep, he remembered from his lessons in a bid to pull himself into the waking world. He was back home, alive, though he could hardly move.

Ama who was sat at his bedside stirred before him, as he was tucked in too-warm blankets up to his neck and only managed a few blinks. She shouted at a servant to bring something and pulled closer, her long braid dragging itself like a snake, her face paler than usual.

“Mavus! Oh, finally. Are you hungry, dearest?” There’d been a bump on his head where she kissed him gently, and when he raised himself up on his elbows to sit upright, he could see peeking from under his nightshirt dark bruises in bloom. 

“Aha-gh,” he coughed, and Ama handed him a cup from the nightstand. The cold splash of water was needed but unpleasant, through half-shut eyes he could see a large tray with food coming in.

“You’d think I asked for it tomorrow,” her voice took on a chilling tone when she grabbed it, placing it on her lap in view of Mavus. “Now get out, I’ll ring the bell if I need anything.”

The servant closed the door hurriedly, making him flinch from the noise. Ama took a bowl of steaming crab stew and pointed the spoon towards him as if he were a little scrib. 

“Sup it slowly, I don’t want you to feel ill.”

It hurt to swallow it even slowly, his throat torn by crying out for help. Still unsure what had transpired, he only wished to feel relief for being alive. He must’ve been staring at Ama, for she craned her neck as if expecting a question, brow pinched in worry.

“What happened to me? I was…” Reaching into his last memory got a sob out of him, nearly stew all over him. The gruesome display, the creature that had savaged his guar so and almost him as well, was hiding in the shapeless mash of the bowl.

“Brought in down from Nabia by boat. We had the Temple healer treat you there and then, but you were more terrified than hurt. Thank the Three.” Ama offered him a comberry jam tartlet from the tray, to which he shook his head. “Ser Dren told me everything already, you don’t have to retell it, unless that would help you.”

What if he’d told her that Mavus was a terrible squire who’d wandered off and almost got himself killed? His voice escaped him, and he wanted to tell Ama so badly that he hadn’t meant to, he hadn’t been thinking, but his mouth was as dry as those ashen wastes he was crossing ever still in his mind, repeating and haunted by a myriad of misshapen monsters.

“The guar—” was all he could muster before gurgling hot tears, his face burning. 

“We’ll buy you a new one. A better one!”

“No, no, I saw it…”

Ama nodded knowingly, diverting the subject. “They went to scour the area, you know. Whatever was out there is nothing to fear anymore.”

“Can you read me a story?” he asked, muffled in her wide sleeve. All he wanted was for it to go away, but loomed over him, ravenous soul-sickness. Ama was eager to do so, laid down beside him and took a book from the other nightstand, The Song of the Alchemists, and her sing-songy voice rocked him to sleep once again, but kept the terrors away if only for now.

In the wee hours–and he knew so for it was all quiet but the nightly bugs outside–Mavus arose slowly, gripping the frame of his bed in case his legs gave out again. Ama was no doubt up in her room, finally able to sleep herself, and he didn’t know if Ser Dren had visited again. He’d dreamed of the day, and in his dream a warm light pulled him ever closer. Ama, he’d thought, but it must have been Cardama who had protected him in that waking nightmare.

He knew the way to give tribute to the ancestors–sort of–but Ama didn’t like him handling the hearth on his own, even though he wouldn’t be hurt. He threw one of the blankets over himself like a cloak and gathered what he could from his surroundings. Cold jam tartlets that sat out the night, and a handful of flowers from his bedside that filled the room with sweetness.

Descending in silence to where the family shrine encircled a still-living hearth, he paused to look around the hall. Darkest darkness was calling him, and within it lurked terrible things. His only way away was the fire, weak but welcoming and enveloping him with the strength he needed to cross the threshold. Laying down what he’d carried in his makeshift cloak, he took a deep breath. First he offered a tartlet that burned slowly, then a stoneflower, and his heart’s wish.

The fire roared scarlet, and he wasn’t afraid one bit. “Cardama, is that you?” he whispered, face so close to the embers that he could swim in them. To his astonishment, she answered.

“Indeed it is, scrib,” the fire crackled, “but do not accustom yourself to calling upon me as you did now. It is my duty to watch over you, and from that us spirits are weary enough.”

“I won’t keep you for long. Just wanted to thank you and give something in return.”

“Something in return? Then listen well, for all I ask—protect the helpless, as I have you.”

“I’m going to be a knight, so I’ll help everyone in need,” he hesitated for a moment, with his embarrassment in mind. Would a true knight just give up and flee from a monster as he had?

The embers huffed. “Do you think of who brought your cakes, who harvested the comberry and wickwheat, who planted the seeds, when you offer them to me? As a knight, would you lift your sword to strike at the bracers that hold them prisoner and spirit them away from this place?”

“They’re not prisoners, they work for Ama. I… think she wouldn’t be happy with that.”

With his words, the fire sputtered and went silent. Had he displeased his ancestor? He felt a chill on the back of his neck, as if a dreadful curse crept upon him, but he didn’t understand.

“Hear me now, not because you are of my blood, but if it flows from out of a good heart,” she finally whispered back to him, not through the fire, through the very air itself. “Do not fear to wander, if your cause is just. Perhaps you could do right by what I gave my life for.”

“I don’t understand, Cardama. You want me to die?”

The air around him laughed, somehow, and ash blew into his face just right to remind him of his lowest moment. He could not cry in the presence of his guardian, but wasn’t that always?

“Live, wander and wonder, and think upon my words, Mavus-la. Three blessings to you.” 

In the silent hours before dawn when he liked to go out on the balcony to look at the fields in spring, he curled his legs up to his chest next to the still lightly crackling hearth. There was still time to make it spotless. He took a bite from one of the leftover tartlets, strangely warm but more bitter than usual. 

#tesfest23 #tes #the elder scrolls #morrowind #elder scrolls #mavus ules #he's the main focus but then there's nevena and a certain character from eso. you may know her from my url :) #not oc tag #scrawling tag