Kenil remembered that day for it was first day when he kissed a girl. He
remembered it because of the soft touch of her lips, with the fragrant
smell that remained for along time afterwards. The day they had shared a
kiss, and it was one kiss to last for a lifetime. How long did a dark elf
live? A thousand years if war, famine, and disease didn't kill them first.
This kiss surely would be in their minds forever, for an eternity, a
thousand years of life could be an eternity.
Again, he looked back at Sierra, now moaning and groaning on her bed, with a skin wrapped around her neck wound. Please don't go. Please don't leave, Siri.
Late at night, he heard her moans even more. Was it him who made the netch go bad? Was it him who pulled a tendril too many? Kenil would never forgive himself if she . she, she died. It was like that day when he had first tripped on her, all over again.
Overnight the rain poured, the wind blew the farmhouse right and left. Water began seeping in through the wooden door, not that it could hold anything out in the first place. The water began to fill on the inside, and when Granther opened the wooden door to look around, he saw water every direction. A flood, he warned. The rain kept on raining; it didn't seem to be stopping at all.
Before long, the entire house was soaked in water. It wasn't built on that high of a foundation so it was nearly as level as the ground itself. No one ever expected a flood to come to this land, not to Morrowind. The most the place ever gotten to a real flood was when the water seeped through by the push of a wind, and only Arcata had sweeped away the water with a broom. By deep into the night, Sierra was moaning in a deep nightmare and so was the house as it became soaked. The water raised a finger higher.
And a finger higher.
And another finger.
And then by an entire foot it rose.
And Granther began to grow really worried, for the rain didn't seem to stop.
When the water reached ankle deep, yes, ankle deep, something that amazed Kenil to this day, and the walls were really beginning to break, Granther told everyone to move to higher ground. It seemed the water had become dangerous.
They moved out of the house with Granther carrying Sierra in his arms and Uncle Gul leading the way out. The water was so high that it was very hard to walk, and for a while Kenil thought it was deep enough for swimming. They moved slowly through the thundering storm onto a high hill far away. It was hard to move through that flood; furthermore, it was a long distance. Kenil tripped many times and fell into the water. Arcata held him close to give him support. Uncle Gul helped Granther carry Sierra up the hill. When they finally lost the water downhill, Kenil searched the horizon for their farmhouse. It was hard to see in the darkness and the rain. Suddenly, a lightning strike lighted the area, and they could see their farmhouse like a little dot. Kenil was tired after the long drenching path. After a while, they waited but the rain still did not stop. It would be a bad year. Their harvest this year would probably be doomed. And that meant. Suddenly Arcata shrieked a cry, and told everyone about the crops, and their food in storage. The water would soak them and the family might be hungry the entire year.
Granther stiffened too, and so did Uncle Gul. If they didn't have food this year, what would they do? The flood might ruin the crops from last year, and everyone would go hungry and starve. Suddenly, the two adult mer went back to farmhouse, now waist level in water. Arcata didn't beg them to not go, they had to, it was food and if they didn't have it, who knew what they'd do?
Kenil waited and waited for them to get back. He looked out at that dot far away, which could be seen occasionally when the lightning appeared. Sierra moaned quite a bit, the storm didn't stop at all during the period, in fact, to Kenil's dismay it got worse. Still, Kenil waited for the storm to stop and for Uncle Gul and his father to come back.
By early dawn he was waiting still, now scared and shaking in the pouring rain. By now, the rain was lightening up a bit. By midmorning, the rain had all stopped except for an occasional scattered downpour, as if the gods in the sky wished to give one last ironic tribute to the ground. When Kenil began to realize what terrible thing might have happened, he became worried stiff and remained shaking still.
And that horrifying fear was reinforced when by noontime they did not appear anywhere. Arcata cried on top of that high hill that day after the great flood. Kenil still hadn't completely grasped the meaning of it all but eventually he too cried with full nonstop tears.
The Omani sage called Sierra's revival a miracle. But the floods were nothing short of a disaster. It uprooted all the crops. Farming was unusually stable in Morrowind compared to the rest of Tamriel. The rain never poured that much, and the corkbulb seedlings never needed that much water to begin with. The ash yams needed less still, except a decent soil to grow on. So their roots weren't adapted for long periods of flooding. Not many farmers kept in reserve their yearly crops. Most tried to sell as much as they can either on the market in Vivec or gave it to silk riders so they could sell it at Balmora, then with that money they'd purchase seedlings to expand their crops.
And so when the flooding came, Farmers all around the peninsula knew their harvest for that year was nonexistent. No one expected such a thing to happen, ever. Dry seasons were never that long in Morrowind, and if it were, the corkbulb plant could easily survive a drought. But a flood! That was unexpected. Some kept in storage past harvests, and if they weren't ruined by the flood, then they were lucky. As for those who were greedy and sold all their crops the year they were harvested, the local Omanis furnished the region with food brought in from other parts of Morrowind, but with the entire seasonal upbringing gone, there was crying throughout the peninsula. The netch had little meat, for there had been little sunshine to grow their bluish skins. Even the usually red smidge on the top was now a dark purple, deprived of energy. The tendrils were weary, and some of the weaker netches couldn't fly. It was a bad time.
Few farmers could manage their crops, and if it weren't for the local Omanis, they'd surely have starved.
When news arrived that the Tribunal church from High Fane would come to the rescue, many farmers rejoiced. It was said that they'd provide sure habitation to those who would move to Vivec where they'd be fed at least until next year when planting season came around again, then they could rebuild their homes when they came back.
For Kenil, it was a horrible time. For not only had his family lost their crops, they had lost two members. They found the bodies separated by over a horizon. Uncle Gul, the deceased, drifted over a far hill. Granther, Arcata had bent over his body and cried for days it seemed until Master Omani pulled her away, had been found even further down. It wasn't at all that hard to find a lump of dead flesh on the plains, perhaps it should have been more difficult. When Kenil was told he'd be moving to Vivec, which he had only heard in stories, he sat without reflex. One day, the family or the leftover remnants of a family decided there was nothing else to do but move to Vivec for the fall and winter seasons, or maybe even forever. Actually, Arcata's weak relent when the priestess came over from High Fane to persuade her made the real decision. From that day forward, Arcata never regressed to that pleasant time before the flood came.
Again, he looked back at Sierra, now moaning and groaning on her bed, with a skin wrapped around her neck wound. Please don't go. Please don't leave, Siri.
Late at night, he heard her moans even more. Was it him who made the netch go bad? Was it him who pulled a tendril too many? Kenil would never forgive himself if she . she, she died. It was like that day when he had first tripped on her, all over again.
Overnight the rain poured, the wind blew the farmhouse right and left. Water began seeping in through the wooden door, not that it could hold anything out in the first place. The water began to fill on the inside, and when Granther opened the wooden door to look around, he saw water every direction. A flood, he warned. The rain kept on raining; it didn't seem to be stopping at all.
Before long, the entire house was soaked in water. It wasn't built on that high of a foundation so it was nearly as level as the ground itself. No one ever expected a flood to come to this land, not to Morrowind. The most the place ever gotten to a real flood was when the water seeped through by the push of a wind, and only Arcata had sweeped away the water with a broom. By deep into the night, Sierra was moaning in a deep nightmare and so was the house as it became soaked. The water raised a finger higher.
And a finger higher.
And another finger.
And then by an entire foot it rose.
And Granther began to grow really worried, for the rain didn't seem to stop.
When the water reached ankle deep, yes, ankle deep, something that amazed Kenil to this day, and the walls were really beginning to break, Granther told everyone to move to higher ground. It seemed the water had become dangerous.
They moved out of the house with Granther carrying Sierra in his arms and Uncle Gul leading the way out. The water was so high that it was very hard to walk, and for a while Kenil thought it was deep enough for swimming. They moved slowly through the thundering storm onto a high hill far away. It was hard to move through that flood; furthermore, it was a long distance. Kenil tripped many times and fell into the water. Arcata held him close to give him support. Uncle Gul helped Granther carry Sierra up the hill. When they finally lost the water downhill, Kenil searched the horizon for their farmhouse. It was hard to see in the darkness and the rain. Suddenly, a lightning strike lighted the area, and they could see their farmhouse like a little dot. Kenil was tired after the long drenching path. After a while, they waited but the rain still did not stop. It would be a bad year. Their harvest this year would probably be doomed. And that meant. Suddenly Arcata shrieked a cry, and told everyone about the crops, and their food in storage. The water would soak them and the family might be hungry the entire year.
Granther stiffened too, and so did Uncle Gul. If they didn't have food this year, what would they do? The flood might ruin the crops from last year, and everyone would go hungry and starve. Suddenly, the two adult mer went back to farmhouse, now waist level in water. Arcata didn't beg them to not go, they had to, it was food and if they didn't have it, who knew what they'd do?
Kenil waited and waited for them to get back. He looked out at that dot far away, which could be seen occasionally when the lightning appeared. Sierra moaned quite a bit, the storm didn't stop at all during the period, in fact, to Kenil's dismay it got worse. Still, Kenil waited for the storm to stop and for Uncle Gul and his father to come back.
By early dawn he was waiting still, now scared and shaking in the pouring rain. By now, the rain was lightening up a bit. By midmorning, the rain had all stopped except for an occasional scattered downpour, as if the gods in the sky wished to give one last ironic tribute to the ground. When Kenil began to realize what terrible thing might have happened, he became worried stiff and remained shaking still.
And that horrifying fear was reinforced when by noontime they did not appear anywhere. Arcata cried on top of that high hill that day after the great flood. Kenil still hadn't completely grasped the meaning of it all but eventually he too cried with full nonstop tears.
The Omani sage called Sierra's revival a miracle. But the floods were nothing short of a disaster. It uprooted all the crops. Farming was unusually stable in Morrowind compared to the rest of Tamriel. The rain never poured that much, and the corkbulb seedlings never needed that much water to begin with. The ash yams needed less still, except a decent soil to grow on. So their roots weren't adapted for long periods of flooding. Not many farmers kept in reserve their yearly crops. Most tried to sell as much as they can either on the market in Vivec or gave it to silk riders so they could sell it at Balmora, then with that money they'd purchase seedlings to expand their crops.
And so when the flooding came, Farmers all around the peninsula knew their harvest for that year was nonexistent. No one expected such a thing to happen, ever. Dry seasons were never that long in Morrowind, and if it were, the corkbulb plant could easily survive a drought. But a flood! That was unexpected. Some kept in storage past harvests, and if they weren't ruined by the flood, then they were lucky. As for those who were greedy and sold all their crops the year they were harvested, the local Omanis furnished the region with food brought in from other parts of Morrowind, but with the entire seasonal upbringing gone, there was crying throughout the peninsula. The netch had little meat, for there had been little sunshine to grow their bluish skins. Even the usually red smidge on the top was now a dark purple, deprived of energy. The tendrils were weary, and some of the weaker netches couldn't fly. It was a bad time.
Few farmers could manage their crops, and if it weren't for the local Omanis, they'd surely have starved.
When news arrived that the Tribunal church from High Fane would come to the rescue, many farmers rejoiced. It was said that they'd provide sure habitation to those who would move to Vivec where they'd be fed at least until next year when planting season came around again, then they could rebuild their homes when they came back.
For Kenil, it was a horrible time. For not only had his family lost their crops, they had lost two members. They found the bodies separated by over a horizon. Uncle Gul, the deceased, drifted over a far hill. Granther, Arcata had bent over his body and cried for days it seemed until Master Omani pulled her away, had been found even further down. It wasn't at all that hard to find a lump of dead flesh on the plains, perhaps it should have been more difficult. When Kenil was told he'd be moving to Vivec, which he had only heard in stories, he sat without reflex. One day, the family or the leftover remnants of a family decided there was nothing else to do but move to Vivec for the fall and winter seasons, or maybe even forever. Actually, Arcata's weak relent when the priestess came over from High Fane to persuade her made the real decision. From that day forward, Arcata never regressed to that pleasant time before the flood came.