Chapter Six
Merthisan noticed that adjusting to the daytime schedule was not easy for Feryl, but he maintained the routine without objection. Each morning, he woke at dawn, ate his breakfast in the kitchen with Lyra, and then met in the practice room for lessons. Afterwards, he would then bathe, dress, and do any of the chores around the school; all of this, without question or complaint.
In the practice room, Merthisan watched Feryl follow through one of the many exercises he was expected to complete in a certain amount of time. He had practiced the dance-like movements for two weeks without delay or interruption. Each stance flowed into the next, teaching balance, but also speed. He was stronger now, had gained some weight, but the same guarded fierceness remained ever present in his face. The red eyes were set determined and focused, with the mouth pressed into a grim line. The dulled practice sword came alive in his hands as he twisted, parried, and thrust at invisible attackers.
Sweat beaded on his brow, plastering loose hair to cheeks and forehead, with clothes also damp at chest and under arms. Never had Merthisan known a boy so focused on his learning. Neither have I known such an obedient child, the swordsman considered. And this worried him. Feryl rarely smiled, rarely spoke, or dared to ask questions. He did simply followed orders and absorbed everything like a sponge. One could never ask for a better student, so why does it feel wrong that he behaves in such a manner?
As he watched the boy move, he contemplated his concerns. He doesn't have fun. That was it. The boy simply had no idea what play meant. To him, the lessons were enjoyable but not to be enjoyed. They were work. They were expectations he had to perform, despite his own feelings if he wanted to or not. What must his life have been like to destroy that marvelous joy of humor and fun?
When Feryl completed the exercises, he moved back into 'first position', waiting for the next command.
"I need you to help clean out my office today." Merthisan told him, moving to gather up a towel to wipe off sweat from his own face. Practicing with students almost half his age wasn't easy on the 'old man'. This one in particular could run circles around him.
Expectantly, Feryl said nothing but followed him up the stairs into the chaotic mess called his office. Lyra had already started by clearing off shelves to re order the items there. Her usual garb of an overdress of homespun shrouded her light frame, and hair was tucked neatly in her servant's cap. Her face practically glowed whenever she was to work with the new addition to the school. Feryl seemed oblivious to her attention, or perhaps he was aware and chose to ignore it. More likely, the sword master thought to himself with a smile, he didn't know how to handle her attention.
"I have some errands to run." Merthisan told them. He trusted Lyra to be sure the chores were done, but also found that he trusted the young elf to do the same. "And you can take these," He indicated three practice shields he had repaired, "To Renis downstairs for his class. I'll be back in a few hours."
Lyra chirped an affirmative, hopping off a box she'd been using to reach the higher shelves. Knowing Feryl was to help her, she had been looking forward to some time with him. Though he was not a talkative sort, she liked his company. He had the most amusing reactions to her and her comments. She also enjoyed being left in charge.
"Go ahead and replace the books up there." She told him, now accustomed to giving him orders. "I'll start on the next shelf."
The dust was a layer thick, and the girl refrained to comment to master Kendari about the filth. This room had always been off limits to her up until today, and ever since she had started working as 'maid' for the school, she'd been itching to see the wondrous items the famed hero had collected over the years.
Apparently, so did Feryl. He picked up a purple crystalline object, admiring the colors and play of light and color. Long fingers touched the surface as if sensing the magic within the item. Tiny orange sparkles dance within the lavender colors.
"A soul gem." Lyra told him.
Feryl looked at her perplexed.
"It's a soul gem." She repeated, picking up a smaller light blue crystal. This one had flecks of red. "They are used to enchant weapons. Master Kendari had trapped several creatures' souls in his travels. I think he said this one has a goblin in it."
The elf boy didn't seem to believe her, and his attention had already drifted to the books he was meant to restack on the shelf. He picked up the top book, turning it over to read the spine. Lyra frowned, as she realized he was reading the title.
"Do you know how to read?" Thieves and other common criminals were often uneducated.
The boy nodded, obviously confused once again to her question. Didn't everyone? "Are we allowed to read these books?" He asked her. The tome was something to do with lore from a place called Valenwood.
"Certainly. I'm sure you need only ask master Kendari. He's teaching me to read too." Lyra leaned over his shoulder to look at the words that had no meaning to her as of yet. "What does it say?"
"The Armorer's Challenge." He read aloud.
Lyra made a face, "Not one of my favorite stories." Picking another book she handed it Feryl to read. "And this one?"
"The Art of War Magic." He recited.
The girl made a face, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Ugh! What is with Master Kendari and this whole business of killing? Doesn't he have any good stories?"
Feryl wasn't sure what she meant by stories, let alone good ones. His own experience with books had been only about instruction with a scattering of history. One by one, as he stacked the books, he read the title to which Lyra had no interest. They were mostly of smithing, weapons, and war tactics.
"What about this one?" Lyra handed him a smaller tome.
"The Gold Ribbon of Merit." He read, only to find the girl's face brighten.
"Oh that one! Read that one!"
"But I thought we're suppose to finish cleaning this place…?"
"We can take a break." Lyra tugged his arm, forcing him off the crate to join her on the floor. "Its not a long story. C'mon read it to me!"
Part of him wanted to finish the work they had started, but Lyra seemed intent that taking a break. By her eagerness for him to read to her, she wasn't about to let him get back to work until he did what she wanted. Resigned, he sat on the floor beside her, and opened the book.
Lyra settled very close beside him, leaning over to see the words yet not understanding yet what they meant. "Do this." She told him, using a finger to run along the mysterious words.
He leaned forward, and began to read the story, most of which didn't make sense. He never read a 'story' before, let alone one of fiction. He also never read something for amusement's sake. The tale unraveled, catching the young elf in a marvelous chronicle of two archers and a simple competition. There were descriptions of different methods of drawing a bow, and challenging of skills. Feryl found the subject fascinating.
Also aware of the girl sitting so close beside him, the elf felt…comfortable. For the first time in his life, he enjoyed the close proximity of someone else, the body heat against his own. A gentle hand rested against his forearm, and her shoulder pressed against his own when she leaned towards the book. Her eyes followed along the words, sparkling as the story unfolded. As the book ended with a twist, Feryl found the girl clapping her hands.
"You read very well." She said with a grin. "I can't wait until I can read as well!" Lyra paused to notice something on the boy. "What's this? A smile?"
Feryl lowered his chin, self-conscious of her staring and teasing him. The tiniest of smiles pulled at the corners of his mouth. "I know how to smile." He told her, feeling awkward. He couldn't remember the last time he did. Oh yes, a time he'd found a cat that let him scratch the soft whiskers.
"Then do it more often." She laughed, "Because I thought that scowl of yours was permanent!"
Feeling embarrassment blanket his face in heat, the boy decided to change the subject. "We best get the shields to master Renis." A bubbling of giggles greeted him, almost making him laugh himself. The girl was silly, he told himself, but her laugh was infectious. "C'mon."
Feryl took up two of the three shields, letting Lyra carry the last one. He let her take the lead, following her back down through the school. Sensitive ears pricked up to listen for the other teacher. Renis, for the most part, completely ignored his presence. In fact, when he did look in his direction, the obvious distain for the elf was quite clear. Feryl wasn't sure why this was, and decided to avoid the man whenever possible, and stay out of his way.
Lyra told him little about this other Imperial, only that her tone also indicated she was not as fond of him as she was to Master Kendari. "He's not as patient as Master Kendari is." She tried to explain. "He focuses on battle and winning rather than the art of fighting. But he's a good teacher of the staff and spear."
Feryl wasn't sure what she was talking about. Wasn't winning the point of any fight?
Renis was thinner than the swordmaster, younger, and had a few inches over Kendari. He had brown hair, cropped short, with a trimmed beard on lip and chin. He was a dark man, with chestnut hair and eyes having a deep, almost amber shade. The jaw line was sharp, distinctive. His face always carried a tightness at mouth and eyes that seemed to Feryl he was hiding something. He didn't trust him, and wondered how Kendari came to know him.
Moving towards the open doorway of the practice area, Feryl found himself staring back at master Renis, but also two of his young students. Startled, he nearly dropped the shields, and gaped at the cat-like creatures standing in the center of the room.
Khajiits! He'd only heard of them before, and saw them from afar. His nightly excursions often encountered them on the streets, even on the rooftops, but not as close, not in the light of day.
Standing upright, the creatures looked back with eyes of tawny gold. One was mottled with browns, whites, and blacks, with his companion having a more uniform gray. They wore the same loose practice clothing as Feryl wore, holding staves in their clawed hands. Both seemed as surprised to see him, as Feryl was of them. Long tails twitched in agitation.
"A Dunmer?" The mottled Khajiit hissed. The wide-eyed surprise soon narrowed to open loathing. Feryl wasn't sure what he'd done to earn the cat-like beast's ire.
"He is Master Kendari's new student." Renis told them. A quick jerk of his arm indicated where they were to place the shields against the wall.
The gray Khajiit made a low growl in his throat. "Perhaps the Dunmer would like to spar with Ma'dat?"
Baring teeth in a semblance of smile, or warning, the mottled creature snickered. "Or Jo'rak will take on the cub Dunmer?"
"He's to help me with cleaning." Lyra piped up before Feryl could respond. Hands clasped his arm as if to hold him back, but he made no move to accept their challenge.
Renis had an odd smirk on his face, as he casually leaned against his own sparring staff. "Oh I'm sure Master Kendari wouldn't mind a quick practice session." With a jerk of his chin, he focused on the uncertain elfling. "Care to try against one of them?"
Feryl shook his head. For all his training, he'd never attained 'pride', and he cared little for the opinions of the Khajiits or of master Renis for that matter. Their veiled insults meant little to a boy who'd long since grown accustomed to worse from his master. The office needed cleaning. Kendari had given his orders.
The Khajiit named Ma'dat blew a hiss. "Is the Dunmer cub frightened? Ma'dat won't hurt much." He bared teeth, extending claws. "Ma'dat will use only the stick."
"Its only practice." Renis added. He offered his own staff, but Feryl shook his head again, turning to leave.
"Ah its because Dunmer are better at enslaving and assassinating than actual fighting." One of the Khajiits hissed behind him. Feryl spun back, startled at the words directed to him. Enslavement? Assassins? His tone indicated the creature knew something he did not. "Perhaps Jo'rak will turn his back, and the Dunmer red-eye will want to fight then?"
"C'mon Feryl." Lyra interrupted, tugging his arm. She looked almost frightened. "We need to finish cleaning up the office."
"Feryl!" The mottled cat chortled. "A stray dog?" He laughed some more, joined by his companion. "Come little pup, let's see if you have teeth!"
"Enough Ma'dat." The gray one sneered, "its obvious this one knows little of his kinsmen in Morrowind. That one knows nothing of being a fighter."
The words confused the young elf who had no experience with the banter between opponents. Nor could he understand the verbal barbs against his heritage. He did, however, suspect they knew something he did not concerning Dunmer. The fact they immediately hated him seemed to only fuel the words Nekros had so often told him of Dark Elves having a 'dark nature', that they were feared, even hated. With the Khajiits reaction to him; this seemed to be true.
"What did he mean?" He asked Lyra as he followed her back upstairs.
"About what?" She said over her shoulder.
"About enslavement, and assassins."
Her silence was loud as she continued back to Merthisan's office, pausing slightly before answering him. "In Morrowind, slavery is still legal." The tone grew hesitant as she saw the intent stare from the young elf boring into her.
"How…?" Slaves, he thought, were illegal in the Empire of Tamriel. Even he knew that.
She shifted awkwardly, "Something about Morrowind allows them to keep their rules, and laws as they see fit."
"Keeping slaves…" Feryl murmured. Thoughts wondered to his own servitude indentured to Nekros. His enslavement was born of terror and fear. The shackles that had bound him most of his life were of Nekros' making, and molded from years of pain and suffering.
"Yes…keeping slaves." She sighed, "Many Khajiits know of family members who were captured and sold into slavery. I think that's why Ma'dat and Jo'rak don't like you."
"I don't keep slaves." His tone turned sharp and angry. He thought the practice abhorrent, being he was no more a slave himself.
"All they see is a dark elf."
"Dunmer." Feryl corrected with sarcasm. Dark Elves kept slaves? Feryl felt something dark and cold creep into his heart. Morrowind would be the only lands that kept the barbaric practice, and only Dunmer were masters? The thought was disturbing. "And what of assassins?"
Lyra grew uneasy with the topic of discussion, busying hands with dusting a shelf. "From what master Kendari has told me, in Morrowind, there are legal assassins which handle affairs between the noble houses. I don't know how that works exactly, but something to do with the Houses have always warred with one another."
"Its their nature…" Feryl muttered under his breath. He turned and began stacking books, too lost in his own confusing thoughts and feelings to want to hear more.
One day, you will make a splendid killer, Feryl. It's in your nature.
Nekros had often told him the temperament of Dark Elves. They are eager to fight, hungry for blood. No one could trust them. The assassin had always hinted the reason he even took Feryl as an apprentice was because of his race. What if all that he said of Dark Elves were true? What if Nekros was right about him?
It was obvious Renis didn't trust him, and Khajiits didn't even need to know anything about him before hating the sight of a Dunmer. What if others were like this? Hadn't Nekros said as much?
Lyra and Kendari seemed to like him, despite what he'd done. They didn't even care he was an admitted thief. But Nekros' words haunted him. Their compassion is what drives them. Their righteousness clouds their focus. They are predictable and weak. What if he was right about that as well? What if their unfounded compassion was misplaced, and misguided?
Then what am I doing here? Am I just pretending to be something I am not? Is all of this going against what is more natural to me? Feryl wasn't sure. He was angry, frustrated, and wanting to smash something. Nekros' training kept such urges under control. He felt his throat tighten at the knowledge his master's severe teaching might very well be what kept in line.
"Are you alright?" Lyra asked concerned.
"I'm fine." He snapped, wanting her to leave him alone.
Somehow she must have sensed this for Lyra reluctantly grew quiet, and they finished the cleaning without further words. She continued to sneak furtive glances in his direction, furthering provoking his ire for her company. As soon as the office was finished, Feryl retreated to the bathing room to wash up.
Here he could hope to be alone for a bit, and opted to take a quick shower rather than a bath. The day was drawing to a close, and master Kendari was expected to return. Shaking out damp hair, he skipped up the steps by twos as he headed back to his room.
When he found himself upstairs heading towards the kitchen, he was surprised to find the two Khajiits waiting for him in the hallway. They, like any students in the lengthening day, should've left for their own homes by now. He could only guess why they were still around, and immediately he tensed sensing trouble.
They bore no weapons, and even changed from practice clothes to outfits of more ornate silks and velvets. Feryl assumed they must be from a merchant's family or even nobles, Feryl considered. Fur was combed neatly, but fluffed in agitation. Their stiff posture and fur bristled around their heads let Feryl knew they were still itching to fight.
"Red-eye…" The gray creature hissed, moving to stand in his way. "Why you don't want to spar? You too good to fight against Khajiits?"
Feryl wondered where master Renis was, and why these two hated him so. He moved to sidle past the brothers, only to find the gray male move to block his way once again.
"This one can see only beasts, eh?" Ma'dat growled low. Golden brown eyes dilated, as lips drew back to snarl at him.
The young elf saw the paw moving, claws extended. Moving quickly, he dodged the intended blow, grabbing the offending hand and snapped the wrist as he followed through with a knee to the beast's soft underbelly. The Khajiit dropped with a blow of air from his lungs, eyes bulging in surprise and pain. A rumbling growl alerted him to his brother coming to attack from behind.
Jo'rak was preparing to jump, only to find a foot swung fast and snapping square into his chest. The force shoved the force of his jump back, hitting solidly against the wall. The growl turned into a pained yowl as the beast fell to the floor.
"Feryl!" Merthisan's voice boomed down the hall as the swordmaster saw the Khajiits on the floor, and a very angry Dunmer boy standing over them. "That is enough!"
The anger he saw in Kendari's face caused Feryl to back off quickly. He steeled himself for a blow, but found the swordsman preferred to stand in self-controlled severity. The disappointment, however, directed at him hurt just as much.
"What is the meaning of this?" Merthisan demanded. He crouched beside the injured students to inspect the injuries. They gray Khajiit had a broken wrist, while his brother suffered from cracked ribs.
"Feryl," The swordmaster focused now on the silent elf. "Explain yourself."
The boy bowed his head, "They wanted to fight." He rationalized, not understanding what the problem was. They wanted a fight, so they got a fight. Their losing was their fault. Was he to stand there and take a blow? Even Nekros would never stand for him to think such a thing.
Jo'rak licked the blood off his muzzle from where he'd bitten his own tongue. "Words were only spoken!" He growled. "The red-eye has no mark on him!"
"Who struck first?" Master Kendari asked.
Both Khajiits pointed to the now stoic dark elf. Feryl slowly nodded.
"You struck first?" His disappointment was clear. "Go up to your room. I'll deal with you later." The boy had stood only a moment before doing as he was told, hearing the audible hiss from the Khajiits follow him behind.
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Feryl found himself sitting on the narrow cot. The boy waited with knees pulled to his chin and arms wrapped around legs.
The room felt too large, as Feryl missed the closed in space of his closet. The windows looked out to the setting sun, setting the timber and plaster walls aglow in pink and purple. At least I have color here; small comfort to one feeling lost and alone.
I'll never belong here, he thought. Kendari hates me now. He sees what monster I am. He will send me away. I blew it…stupid so stupid…
Seems Feryl can't escape the fact he's a Dark Elf. It's difficult to throw away everything you've learned all your life, and Nekros' influence has been strong. The book he reads to Lyra is an actual book in-game, as well as the other titles mentioned.