Chapter 6

Blackwood

As Atkynd and Tari continued their journey south, the climate became steadily wetter and hotter. There were still some familiar deciduous trees poking up through the black earth, but palm trees became far less common. Spiky clusters of cattails jutted out of shallow pools of standing water, and wild mushrooms grew in thick clusters on the surface of heavy rocks half-submerged in the black mud. Colorful, jeweled dragonflies flitted around them, hunting the swarms of gnats and mosquitos that harassed them as they slogged through the soggy trail.

Just as he had in the northern rainforest, Atkynd struggled to stay on the wide dirt road that wound south along the Niben River. Unfortunately, keeping track of the path through the swamplansd was even more difficult than in the forest. The road was poorly marked and difficult to distinguish from the dark, grassless soil of the swamp, and the autumn leaves carpeting the ground obscured it even further. Atkynd also quickly realized that there were no Ayleid patrols. While that meant that they weren't harassed by slavecatchers, he also wished that at least one of the city-states would take responsibility for maintaining the roads.

Fortunately, Tari was far better at woodcraft than he was. Whenever he was about to lose the trail, she would gently point it out and steer him back on course. She always seemed to know which direction was south, which mystified him at first. When he asked her about it, she pointed out that all they had to do was keep the south-flowing Niben in sight. After he'd sheepishly realized she was right, he'd taken her advice and half-abandoned the road in favor of keeping the river within view. Thus, over the course of the next few days, they made slow but steady progress towards the southernmost city in Cyrod, Veyond.

"How far do you think we are from Veyond?" Tari asked one night as Atkynd was setting up the campfire. They were camped on a small, muddy peninsula near the Niben, though their tent was buried deep in the trees – Atkynd had learned from his experience with the soldiers from Sard.

"Well… we've been traveling for three days now," Atkynd said slowly as he set up a ring of stones, while Tari cut edible mushrooms on a plank of bark that she'd collected from a nearby tree. "According to the map, that bridge we crossed this morning marked the Panther River, which would be about a third of the way to Veyond. So… if we do the math, it should take us probably about another week or so to reach Veyond, if we continue at this pace."

Tari frowned, looking up as she laid the knife down on the plank of bark. "Are we making poor time, then?"

"We're moving as quicky as we can without being reckless," Atkynd replied easily, using his own knife to cut notches in a plank of wood, part of the process of fashioning a wood drill to start the fire. "Neither of us is familiar with this part of Cyrod, so it'd be unwise of us to rush. Especially when there's no need. It's not as though the King of the Bjoulsae expects us back before winter." He then smiled at her. "Besides, we have ample supplies, and thus far, the jungle seems to be providing everything else that we need. Which I couldn't do without you. Once again, I'm grateful to have you along."

Tari smiled at him in return, and he noticed that she didn't blush at the praise. He was pleased that she seemed to be getting more comfortable around him. "It's the least that I can do," she replied modestly.

"Is it? Between you handling the woodcraft, and Emero doing the walking, I feel as though I'm barely contributing to this trip," he laughed. He placed the wood drill beneath the leaves he'd gathered and began spinning it furiously, trying to create a spark.

"You're following the map," Tari reminded him. "I don't know how to read that."

"Yes, but the last time I simply read the map, I got lost," Atkynd retorted.

Tari lowered the knife in her hand, staring up at him. "Is that something you regret?" she asked softly, her green eyes widening piteously.

Atkynd hesitated, his ears starting to burn. "Of course not!" he exclaimed, his grip on the drill slipping. "My apologies, I didn't mean to insult-!" Then, to his surprise, he noticed a slight smile spreading across Tari's lips. "Wait. Was… that a jest?" he asked, blinking at her.

"My apologies. Should I not have?" she asked, her smile abruptly falling.

"No, no! Please, do!" Atkynd said quickly, laughing. "I'm just… not used to you teasing me. I'm glad to see that you are, though," he added, grinning at her encouragingly.

Tari looked away, a shy smile lingering on her lips. "Thank you. It's… nice to be able to say what I wish, without fearing repercussions," she murmured.

"I agree," Atkynd nodded, winking knowingly. Though he might not have been forced to censor himself as strictly as she had, he was used to carefully preparing every word he spoke to avoid insult. His smile faded, however, when he looked down at the fire drill. "Damn it, come on," he muttered.

"Is something wrong?" Tari asked, crawling forward to inspect his work.

"The wood's wet," Atkynd growled, spinning the drill faster in a futile attempt to gather charcoal. At last, he pulled the drill out of the bit and muttered, "To Oblivion with this." He glowered at the logs he'd gathered, then turned to Tari and asked, "Would you mind if I cast a bit of magic?"

Tari's eyes widened, and she gathered her ingredients and shrank away from the campfire as Atkynd held up his hand. He took a slow breath and concentrated. After a few moments, flames erupted in the palm of his hand. He reached into the logs and held the fire under the damp branches, until eventually the wet wood had dried enough to catch fire. Once the logs began burning, he quickly pulled his hand out of the firepit and waved it, the ball of fire evaporating quickly in the damp air.

"There we go," he said, not bothering to mask his irritation as he glared at the sodden swamp around them.

Tari stared at him silently as she finished cutting up the vegetables before pushing them into his cauldron with some fresh water. As she set the pot on the fire to boil, she asked, "If you know how to light campfires with magic, why haven't you been doing so?"

Atkynd settled onto a relatively dry spot on one of the logs they'd pulled up as seats, resting his forearms on his legs and letting his hands dangle in front of him lazily. "For one? It's a waste of energy," he explained. "If I can use a fire drill to create a spark, I'd rather do that, as it's less taxing for me. If the wood is too wet, though, and there's no alternative…." He paused and glanced around at the damp swamplands before turning back to her with a wry smile. "In that case, yes, I'll cast a spell. I'm also not a particularly powerful mage, and fire is especially difficult for me. I can create flames, but I can do little else with them. Some mages can summon great, sweeping flames and throw balls of fire at their enemies. I cannot." He met her eyes, then added in a softer voice, "I also wanted to avoid casting a fire spell to avoid dredging up memories of King Hadhuul."

Tari smiled slightly at that last comment, looking down. "Thank you for your consideration," she murmured. She stirred the pot, not saying anything for a bit, until she asked, "How does one use magic?"

Atkynd leaned forward slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Do you want to learn?" he asked gently. When she nodded slowly, he added, "Why?"

Tari looked away, not meeting his eyes. "I… don't want to feel helpless," she murmured.

"Helpless?" Atkynd asked, his smile fading. "I wouldn't have made it this far without your help! If you weren't guiding us-"

"I said helpless, not useless," Tari quietly interrupted. She sighed, then met his gaze. "When you were almost captured by that patrol near Sard, I remember wishing that there was something, anything that I could do. It's not as though I could have mixed a poison on the spot, and even if I could, I couldn't have fought four soldiers at once."

"Few could, even with magic," Atkynd retorted drily.

"Even so," Tari insisted in a short tone. "Can you teach me?"

Atkynd sighed as he pushed himself up and walked around to take a seat beside her on her log. "Very well," he said. "However, there's something I should warn you about. As far as I'm aware, humans cannot use magic. Only those with elven blood have ever become mages. Now, yes, there are reports that the Nords can shout words of power, which creates effects similar to magic, but as it was learned from the dragons, I'm not sure if it can truly be called magic."

Tari frowned. "Why can't humans use magic?" she asked.

"There are theories. The most common one is that elves are more closely linked to Anu, the creator of the universe, and since they were once spirits tied to the fabric of creation, they can more readily tap into their ancient, spiritual ancestry." Atkynd then shrugged and added, "I don't know if there's any truth to that, however. A priest would know better than I."

Tari gazed into the crackling fire, idly stirring the soup she was making, and was silent for a long while. Then she met Atkynd's eyes again. "I'd still like you to teach me," she pressed.

Atkynd shrugged as he sat up and held his hand out. "Very well. To begin with, concentration is the key to casting magic. Hold out your hand like this, with your palm facing up. You know how your blood flows through your body, yes? Imagine that your blood is all flowing to one spot, one point in the center of your palm. Theoretically you could do this anywhere on your body, but it's easiest to visualize it with your hands. If done right, you should feel a tingling sensation running down your arm and pooling in the center of your palm."

Tari held her hand out as he had instructed, and stared at it intently for several long moments. At last, she announced, "I… think I'm feeling it."

Atkynd smiled at her tolerantly. He suspected that she was just fooling herself into believing that she felt the flow of magic. It was common a common mistake for novices to make – he had, until he had found out what gathering magicka actually felt like.

"Once you've focused your energy to that one point, the next step is to give the magic form," Atkynd continued. "The first thing that any mage learns is how to create a flame."

"Why?" Tari interrupted.

"Fire is literally burning energy, so it's the easiest to visualize and control," Atkynd replied patiently, echoing what his master, Sillemeratu, had taught him. "Do you know of the four elements?"

"Yes. Wind, earth, water, and light," Tari said.

"Very good. Fire is simply a weaker form of light, which in and of itself is the purest essence of magicka," Atkynd continued. "Thus, it requires less energy to create a flame than to cast pure light… for most people." When Tari gave him a questioning look, he grinned. "For some reason, I personally find creating light easier than creating fire. My master told me that was uncommon, however, and I still learned fire first."

"I see. So how do you produce a flame?" Tari asked, still holding her hand out beside him.

"First, take that energy pooled in the center of your palm and imagine it pushing past your skin and into the physical world. Then, focus, vocalize the form you intend for the magicka to take, and release it. It has to be done all at once with precise timing, or the magicka will dissipate." Atkynd narrowed his eyes at the palm of his hand, and said in a low voice, "Molag."

He released the energy he had gathered, and a small ball of flame sparked to life in the palm of his hand, dancing and flickering in the darkness. Tari stared at the flames burning in his hand for a few moments, then turned back to her own hand, narrowing her eyes.

"Molag!" she exclaimed. Despite himself, Atkynd felt a brief thrill of anticipation as he watched her hand closely as well, wondering if she was going to somehow defy all his expectations. After a few moments, however, it became apparent that nothing was happening. Tari slowly lowered her hand, clearly disappointed.

"Don't worry," Atkynd comforted her gently. "I've never heard of anyone casting a spell instantly. It took me two weeks to learn how to properly gather magicka, and another week and a half to even produce sparks, much less a flame. And as I said, I still can't do much more than maintain the flame I create. Learning to properly shape a spell and control it often takes months."

Tari didn't say anything, returning her focus to the pot of soup. Atkynd remained silent as he watched her, wondering if he should say something to ease her discouragement, until she asked quietly, "Are you certain that humans can't use magic?"

Atkynd considered the question for a moment, then said slowly, "To my knowledge, there's never been a Nedic mage. However, I've also never heard of an elf accepting a pure-blooded human as an apprentice either." Tari looked up at him again, and he added, "So, yes, as far as I know, humans can't use magic. However, there's no harm in continuing to practice gathering magicka. The worst that can happen is that you'll still be unable to use magic, and nothing will have changed."

Tari stared at him levelly. "That's not particularly encouraging," she remarked.

"I simply want to temper your expectations," Atkynd said gently. "As I said, even for the most talented elves, magic is difficult to learn. There's a reason why the most powerful mages are also the oldest." As he lowered his hand, he added, "I also wish to pass on something my master taught me – even if you were to discover that you have a talent for magic, you shouldn't focus on it to the exclusion of everything else. One can accomplish much with magic, and once you're proficient in it, it's tempting to use it to solve all your problems. However, if you find yourself in a situation where your magic fails, or someone is more powerful than you, you'll quickly discover how helpless you truly are. So, should you somehow learn to cast magic, don't neglect your other skills."

Tari looked down at the soup again, slowly stirring it. "That's… rather sound advice," she admitted.

"I agree. He reinforced it numerous times while he was training me. Even after I learned to charm others, I was still required to continue studying etiquette. And with good reason," Atkynd added. "Magic is quite useful for quick, temporary solutions, or to respond to unusual events. For the most part, though, finding a mundane solution is usually a better option. For instance, if I were to attempt to charm someone during a negotiation, they would immediately agree to fulfill one or two requests. However, the charm would quickly wear off, and I couldn't exactly continue charming them, as I would quickly run out of magicka. It's also likely they would realize that they had been manipulated, which they obviously wouldn't be pleased about… assuming they were weak-willed enough for me to charm them in the first place." The corner of his mouth twitched as he thought of something. "Thankfully, though, that also means we don't have to worry about a skilled mage using magic to control a king, at least."

Tari looked up again, gazing at him. "Then the point you're trying to make is…?"

Atkynd shook his head, realizing he'd gotten off-topic. "My point is that, if you can learn it, magic can be a useful tool. Just don't rely on it as your only tool."

Tari nodded as she took the cauldron off the fire and walked it over to a smooth stone, so she could scoop it into their bowls. "I shall remember that. Though I must confess, I do wish I knew a spell to instantly conjure food for us."

"No such spell exists." Atkynd laughed, then added, "Besides, your cooking is a wonderous magic all on its own, and I'd never want it cheapened."

Tari flushed as Atkynd's grin broadened, and she shoved a bowl of soup into his hands. "Flattery won't convince me to give you a larger portion," she muttered, pointedly avoiding his gaze as she spooned another serving into her own bowl while Atkynd continued grinning at her mischievously.

The journey became increasingly difficult as they traveled deeper into the swamp. The day after Atkynd and Tari had discussed magic, a heavy rain fell, turning the already muddy road into a runny, black slurry that flowed parallel to the Niben itself. Atkynd struggled to guide Emero onto drier patches of ground, but there was little solid in the swampland for the horse to find his footing on. They had no choice but to slowly trudge through the muck, which was made worse by the varying depths of the water and mud. Twice, Atkynd had to get off the horse and pull him by the reins to dislodge him from a deep puddle of water and mud. The first time, Emero had complied with Atkynd's tugging with little fuss. The second time, however, the hole they found themselves in was almost knee-deep, and Emero panicked. The horse reared up, neighing in protest as he struggled to tear himself from the mire. Thankfully, Tari had gotten off his back to help pull Emero, so she wasn't on him when he'd tried to buck. Unfortunately, the horse still had their supplies strapped to his back.

Atkynd watched in horror as Emero's flailing unfastened the strap holding the bags, which quickly slid off his back and landed in the deep, watery mud with a sickening splash. Swearing, Atkynd immediately ordered Tari to grab the bags while he continued to struggle with the panicking horse. Tari snatched the top of the bags before they sank too deep into the muck, but as she pulled them out, he saw that they were sopping wet, dripping with foul putrescence. Atkynd grimaced as he finally managed to pull Emero free of the pit and onto a more solid patch of land.

With the rain showing no sign of abating, Atkynd decided that they needed to find shelter. Unfortunately, it took them another hour to locate a shallow cave that was deep enough for the three to comfortably fit inside. Once they had settled Emero, and Atkynd and Tari had shed most of their clothing and laid it out to dry, they set about inspecting their supplies.

To Atkynd's relief, the leather and wood scroll cases had remained sealed, so his maps and documents were all dry and unharmed. His formal clothes were caked with mud, but he simply rinsed them off in the torrential downpour and laid them out to dry with the rest of his clothing. What worried him, however, was how much mud had soaked into their rations.

The hard bread they'd been eating to supplement their diet of wild vegetables was completely ruined. The watery muck had seeped into it and partially dissolved it, rendering it inedible. The fresh vegetables Tari had foraged were little better. It was easy enough to wash them off in the rain, but Atkynd was worried about what they would find when they awoke. They ate what they could and settled in for the night in the damp cave.

The next morning, Atkynd's fears were confirmed. When they rose the next morning, they saw that most of the vegetables were covered in mold, which had grown rapidly in the dark, damp confines of the cave. Atkynd scowled to himself as Tari gingerly expected the fuzzy green spots dotting the surface of a yellow carrot.

"No… I don't think we can eat this," Tari said finally, running her finger along the now soft flesh of the root. "This will almost certainly make us ill."

"Well… nothing we can do about it now," Atkynd grumbled. Still glowering, he walked over to his scroll case and pulled out his map. "We'll just have to stop for supplies in the next city."

"I agree. Which is?" Tari asked, carefully carving the carrot with her knife to see if there was anything of it that she could salvage.

"Based on where we were last time I checked… Atatar," Atkynd answered, tracing his finger along the papyrus. "I think we're about a day away, maybe two if the rain continues like this."

Tari didn't respond immediately, and it took Atkynd a few seconds to look up from the map to see that she had stopped slicing the carrot, staring at him with wide eyes. "We can't stop there," she said. Atkynd blinked at her, surprised by how adamant her tone was.

"We don't have a choice," Atkynd said. "We need to buy more food, and I'd also like a leatherworker to inspect the strap that came loose."

Tari shook her head firmly. "I insist. Atatar is the one city we absolutely cannot enter."

Atkynd pushed himself off the stone he had been leaning on, folding his arms over his bare chest. "What are you concerned about?" he asked, trying to keep his growing irritation out of his voice.

Tari set her knife down, folding her hands in front of her. "Fifty years ago, a war called the Narfinsel Schism ended with the Scouring of Wendelbek," she said. Atkynd tilted his head at her strangely flat tone, then realized that she was reciting something. "The Daedra-worshipping Ayleids sacked and massacred the city of Wendelbek, driving the Divine-worshipping Barsaebic Ayleids out of Cyrod and into the marshes of Argonia. The one who led the purge was King Glinferen, the ruler of Atatar. According to the rumors, the sacking of the city was brutal even by Ayleid standards. Even my king, Hadhuul, was disgusted by the accounts of the Scourge when they reached him… and you know how cruel he is."

"Indeed," Atkynd agreed, wincing at the memory of the fire king's "celebration" of Sanguinalia.

"King Glinferen still rules Atatar," Tari continued. "Considering how he treated his fellow Ayleids, I don't want to imagine what he'd do to human visitors to his city."

"You're remarkably well-informed about him," Atkynd pointed out, frowning. "Where did you hear all of this?"

Tari looked down, nudging the moldy carrot lying in front of her with her index finger. "I told you before that a few years ago, my mistress brought some of us with her to these swamps to search for ingredients. She told us about Atatar and its king while we were traveling. I assume she did so to discourage any of us from trying to escape into the swamp, but I also believe there must have been some truth to the story. She seemed… wary throughout the expedition, and she refused to go near Atatar herself. I've rarely seen her so cautious."

Atkynd considered her advice, then finally sighed and lowered his arms, clutching the edges of the rock he was sitting on. "Very well. Suppose we avoid Atatar," he said. "The next nearest city is Arpenia, which is much further south. At a good pace in good weather, I imagine we could reach it in about three days, but if this rain continues, it could take us a week, if not more, to arrive. We don't have enough food to make it that far before we run out."

Tari grimaced, still nudging the carrot. "I can forage for more," she murmured.

"In this weather?" Atkynd retorted, motioning to the torrential downpour outside the cave. A second later, a rumble of thunder echoed through the cave. "Even at midday, you can hardly see further than a few feet. Not to mention the dangers of floods and mudslides."

"If we have no choice, then I shall make do," Tari insisted. Then in a less confident voice, she murmured, "Somehow. Besides, it's possible that the rain will pass before then."

"And if it doesn't?" Atkynd asked.

Tari shrank into herself a bit more. "In that case… it will not be the first time that I have gone without food for a few days," she whispered.

"I wouldn't recommend that you go any more days without food," Atkynd said pointedly, his eyes flicking across her emaciated body.

Tari looked up, pinning him with her sharp gaze. "We hardly have an alternative," she shot back. "We cannot remain in this cave, or we will starve. We must press on. We cannot, however, stop in Atatar, or a potentially slow death will be rectified by an assuredly quick and painful one."

Atkynd exhaled slowly with exasperation, running his fingers through his hair. "Then it seems our only option is to tighten our belts and ride," he finally said, reluctantly.

Tari nodded grimly. From the expression on her face, she wasn't happy about her suggestion either. As Atkynd rolled up the map and grabbed his mostly-dry shirt, he watched Tari sink to her knees on the damp cave floor and close her eyes. She muttered a few words that Atkynd couldn't hear, and when she rose again, she noticed him staring at her in confusion.

"I was offering a prayer to Kyne," she explained as she began pulling her ragged chiton on over her underclothing. If she does indeed control the wind and rain, then there's little harm in asking her to end the storms… or at the very least, grant us safe passage."

Atkynd looked towards the cave entrance, where the rain continued to pour, heedless of Tari's request. His mind drifted to Gordhaur's remark about how the Aedra ignored prayers, and he couldn't help but cynically agree as he watched the rain continue to splash against the ground, almost mockingly.

"Let's hope she was listening, then," Atkynd said as he tugged his cloak over his shoulders and stepped out into the rain again.

Naturally, the rain continued to hinder them, falling almost constantly as they continued south. On the second day, they passed within sight of an Ayleid city that he assumed was Atatar, and Atkynd did hesitate, considering whether it was worth the risk, but when he felt Tari's gaze boring into his back, he reluctantly nudged Emero past it. He noticed a pair of Ayleid guards hovering in the shadows of high towers, watching them warily, but the elves made no effort to pursue them as they continued on their way.

By the third day, they had exhausted their remaining food supplies. Even though they had tried to ration their meals, there was so little to begin with that they finally had to simply finish what was left before it turned rotten. From that point on, hunger was an almost constant companion. There were times when Atkynd could ignore the gnawing pain in his stomach, but just as often, he could think of nothing other than his body's protests, its demands that he eat something. While he had missed meals before, this was the first time he had gone days without food. He swore he could feel his strength being sapped with each passing day.

Atkynd noticed that Tari hardly seemed bothered by the lack of food. He wondered if it was simply because she was used to such circumstances, or because her body needed less food to function. Either way, she made no indication about her own discomfort. This, in turn, encouraged Atkynd not to show any weakness either. They journeyed in stony silence, only occasionally speaking above the steady drumming of the rain to ask where they were or if one of them needed to stop. At night they rested in shallow caves or low outcroppings of stone, curling up in their soaked garments without a word and trying to get as much sleep as possible while trying their best to ignore their hunger, fatigue, and damp clothing.

As the endless rain continued, the roads completely flooded with mud and water, until eventually it was nearly impossible for even Tari to find them. With no other way to determine which direction they were traveling, they abandoned the paths entirely and instead followed the now rapidly flowing Niben River. They kept it in sight, but remained well away from the edge of the riverbank, as they were wary of it flooding as well. Fortunately, the Niben was bordered by high earthen banks, but they remained cautious.

Four days after their rations ran out, they were finally granted mercy. There was a break in the rain shortly after midday, and Atkynd had immediately decided that they take advantage of their good fortune to search for food. Tari had all but leapt off the saddle and hurried into the swamp to find edible ingredients, while Atkynd studied the map to determine their position while camping in a clearing.

"That's… not good," he murmured to himself as he scratched the blond stubble growing on his jawline.

"What is it?" Tari asked from behind him, startling him. He turned to see that she was holding a bird's nest, with a few small eggs in it.

"Well done! That's lucky for us," Atkynd remarked, eyeing the red-shelled eggs ravenously. "Were you able to find anything else?"

"Some onions and a bit of fruit that had fallen during the storm," Tari replied, setting down his leather bag. Inside he spotted a few wild green apples – bruised, soft, and slightly stained with mud. A few days ago, Atkynd would have likely turned his nose up at the fruit, but right then, it was all he could do to resist devouring them all himself.

"Excellent," Atkynd praised her, turning his attention back to the map. "Thank you."

"Is something bothering you?" Tari asked as she took the bag back and began setting up the cauldron over the sticks Atkynd had set up for a fire.

"…Yes," Atkynd admitted, looking over the edge of the map. "I'm worried that we might have ridden past Arpenia."

Tari's eyes widened. "How?"

"Considering how difficult it's been to see in the rain? And the fact that we haven't been able to follow the roads?" Atkynd pointed out. "I'm not particularly surprised. Especially since this map has few other landmarks for us to use to orient ourselves. Arpenia is somewhat inland, and since we've been following the river instead of the road, we may have missed the fork that would lead us to the city."

"…So then what do we do?" Tari asked. "Do we turn around? How far past Arpenia could we have ridden?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Atkynd said grimly. "Do we want to turn around and head back north? By my estimate, we shouldn't be more than a day or so away from Arpenia, but it'll be difficult to find it. On the other hand, if we continue south, we will eventually reach the city of Veyond, but that will almost certainly take us another few days. If we had some assurance that the weather will remain clear, I would certainly recommend turning around. However, it'll take time for us to find the road again." As Tari frowned, Atkynd lowered the map. "Traveling north is easy enough, as we just need to follow the Niben in the opposite direction. It's finding the path leading to Arpenia that's the problem. And there's no guarantee the storm won't worsen."

Tari swirled the eggs around in the cauldron, tapping her fingers against the side of it. "You're certain we would find Veyond in a few days?"

"If we continue to follow the river, it's impossible to miss," Atkynd confirmed. "There's an island at the mouth of the Niben, and due west of that is Veyond, so as long as we stay near the river like we've been doing, we'll eventually reach the city. I can't say the same about Arpenia, even if it is closer."

Tari set the cauldron down on top of the branches and motioned for Atkynd to light them. Atkynd held his hand out and focused his magicka, but soon found that he couldn't gather enough energy to conjure a flame. He grit his teeth and poured as much magicka into his hand as he could manage, until finally, a small, candle-sized flame finally sputtered to life. He held it under the sticks, sweat pouring down his face, until the grass piled beneath it finally took the flame.

"Regardless… of which… we choose…." Atkynd panted, his arms trembling. "We must find more food while we have the chance." He hadn't realized just how weak starvation had made him until that very moment. Even considering how poor he was with flame spells, he hadn't struggled so much just to create a fire since he had first learned magic.

"Agreed. After we eat, we'll look for some more supplies. Hopefully the rain will hold for a while longer," Tari said, casting a wary glance at the bitter grey stormclouds roiling above their heads. "As for our direction… I say we continue traveling south. If we don't know where we are, then at least that way we'll know where we're going. If you're certain we'll find Veyond."

"I'm certain," Atkynd said firmly, his mouth watering as the eggs sizzled in the cauldron. "It's impossible to miss."

Fortunately for them, the calm weather did hold for a few more hours, and it remained light enough for them to forage. From the murky marsh, they managed to gather some edible mushrooms, watercress, and water chestnuts – none of which were particularly filling, but it was enough to quiet their stomachs for a little while.

The rain continued to fall off and on for the next few days, but it was an improvement over the constant torrent that had plagued them earlier. Their progress was steady, but slow, with the muddy waters only receding slightly before another round of rain fell, ensuring that they were constantly wading through ankle-deep water. Emero managed to keep his balance, but did get stuck a few times, forcing Atkynd to pull him free, though they were wise enough to remove the saddlebags before attempting to dislodge him. Thankfully, they didn't suffer any other major mishaps.

A few days after they had decided to push on to Veyond, they were trudging through the mud during a lull in the rain, trying to cover as much ground as possible while they could. Atkynd wasn't sure of the time, but he assumed that it was near dusk. He had learned to underestimate what time it was, as the stormclouds blocking the sun and the thick canopy above them ensured that it turned dark long before the sun had fully set. While he knew that traveling in the dark was dangerous, the break in the storm was too precious for him not to take advantage of it as long as possible.

In front of him, Tari was holding her hand out, glaring furiously at her palm. Atkynd had gotten used to her passing the time by practicing magic, though he was certain that there was no chance she could cast a spell right then. They were exhausted and starving, and the air was far too wet for any less than an expert mage to summon fire. Nevertheless, she was keeping herself distracted, and he had no desire to dampen her hopes.

"Molag!" Tari exclaimed. Yet again, she stared at her hand expectantly, and yet again, nothing happened. "Of course not," she muttered in a low voice, sighing as she closed her hand. Then she looked up at Atkynd. "Should we stop for the night?"

"Emero can walk a little longer," Atkynd assured her, patting the horse's flank. Emero snorted at him, but didn't slow his pace. He suspected that the horse was just glad that they'd found a patch of relatively solid land that allowed him to keep his footing fairly easily for a change.

"It's almost too dark to see, though," Tari pointed out, squinting as she tried to peer through the gloom. "Is it safe to travel like this?"

Atkynd tapped his fingers against the reins, weighing his options. "Perhaps you're right. Let's see if I can make it a little safer." He held his hand out, smiling down at her. "I told you before that I'm more talented at conjuring light than fire, yes? Would you like me to teach you that spell? You might find it easier than casting a flame too."

Tari's eyes lit up. "Certainly!"

Atkynd grinned as he gathered magicka into his palm. He closed his eyes for a moment as he concentrated on one point in the center of his palm, and then announced, "Latta." Upon releasing the magic, a small ball of light rose out of his palm and began hovering five feet above his head, bathing the area in an eerie, ethereal green light. Atkynd exhaled slowly, noting to himself that he hadn't been idly boasting – he didn't feel as drained casting that spell as he did when he was summoning flames.

"Incredible!" Tari murmured, shielding her eyes as she gazed up at the light. "This… this is what I imagine when I think of magic."

"I'm not surprised. Since mer venerate light as the representation and source of magic itself, they use magical illumination whenever they can," Atkynd said. "That's why the Ayleids use crystals to light their cities instead of, say, torches. They want you to associate pure light with magic."

Tari stared up at the light for a moment longer, then asked quietly, "How… do you cast the spell again?"

Atkynd regarded her for a moment, then took her hand and made her hold it out in front of her. "Do you remember what I told you about how to gather magicka?"

"I do. I've… tried to feel it, but I don't know if I truly have," Tari admitted.

"You'll know," Atkynd said with conviction. "If you think you've learned to gather magicka like I've told you, then the spell is 'latta.'"

"…Latta," Tari echoed, gazing at her palm hopefully. Atkynd sat back on the horse, gazing down at her hand patiently. As he'd expected, after a few moments, nothing happened. To his surprise, though, Tari looked up at him, her eyes widening.

"I… believe I felt something that time," she said softly.

"Truly?" Atkynd said, trying to keep his doubt out of his tone. "Then perhaps you should indeed try to learn magic with this spell instead of 'molag.' Shall I show you again?"

"Please," Tari nodded.

Atkynd smiled lightly and held his hand out again as the light above them dimmed and faded away. "Latta," he repeated, holding his hand up as another sphere floated out of his hand and hovered above their heads.

Tari scrutinized him closely, then peered up into his face. "Can you describe how it feels to channel magicka?" she suggested.

"Of course," Atkynd smiled. "You'll feel a warm tingling running down your arm from your chest, as though liquid fire is flowing through-!"

Before he could finish his sentence, Atkynd spotted something small and very fast flying towards him out of the corner of his eye. He only registered it for a split second before the arrow embedded itself deep into his left shoulder, narrowly missing his cloak but piercing his rough tunic. Pain exploded in his arm, and he let out a cry as the force of the bolt and the surprise of being suddenly attacked made him lose his balance and slip from Emero's back. He landed heavily on his side in the murky mud, water splashing around him as he clutched his arm and screamed.

Shadowy shapes erupted from out of the bushes lining the swamp a moment later. Atkynd threw his good arm over his head as one of the figures tackled him to the ground, knocking him back into the swampy water before he could recover. More pain lanced up his arm, and he yelled again as the figure brought a crude club over its head. In the eerie magical light, he glimpsed a bloodthirsty sneer as his attacker brought his club down.

Atkynd reflexively kicked, and the attacker was caught by surprise as Atkynd's boot connected with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He grunted and backed away, and Atkynd immediately struggled to push himself to his feet, vaguely noticing that Tari had jumped off Emero and was splashing through the ankle-deep water towards him.

"Stop! Don't touch him!" Tari yelled. Before she could get close, however, another one of the figures grabbed her around the middle, holding her back as she struggled against her captor's grip.

"Don't worry! You're safe now, sister!" a deep voice assured her. "You don't need to fear this elf anymore! We'll kill it for you!"

"No! Let me go!" Tari screamed, clawing at the figure's hands. Caught off-guard by her vicious resistance, the being's grip on her slipped, and she scrambled away from him. She immediately hurried to Atkynd and drew her knife, eyeing their attackers warily.

Atkynd grit his teeth, trying to ignore the agony he was in, as he stood back-to-back with Tari. He dropped his right arm to his sword and yanked it from its scabbard, brandishing it in front of him. In the back of his mind, he realized it was slightly fortunate that the arrow had struck his weaker arm… though he'd rather he hadn't been hit at all, he thought bitterly.

The two figures hesitated upon seeing their targets suddenly armed and anticipating an attack. "What are you doing, sister?" one of them asked hesitantly. "Why are you defending this elf?"

"She's guarding him out of reflex and fear," the figure's companion responded. "Remember? Lanus did the same when we first met him. She thinks that she must serve him, or else he'll punish her. Don't worry! We intend to free you from him. Just come with us, and we'll kill this elf for you and take you to where you'll be safe." Tari snarled in response to the figure's entreating tone, and the figure straightened up, seeming baffled by her reaction.

"Safe from what?" Atkynd snapped. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he shook his head, struggling to maintain his balance while keeping his sword extended in front of him. "She's already free! Do you see any chains on her?!"

"Silence, elf!" the figure nearest to him barked. He started towards Atkynd, but hesitated when Atkynd jabbed his sword threateningly.

"Strangest elf I've ever seen," the second one remarked. "He almost looks more human in this light, and he's not dressed like the Ayleids…."

"He's using magic. Only elves use magic," the first figure retorted stubbornly.

"I'm a half-elf!" Atkynd snapped. "I'm also half-Nedic!"

The second figure seemed uncomfortable as Atkynd said this, but the first one shrugged. "That's still elven, and you don't look like a slave, so you may as well be an Ayleid. Let's just kill him and help the girl to our camp."

"Oh? Are you taking me on horseback? Like he was?" Tari pointed out venomously. "What slave have you seen that's ever been permitted to ride on a horse?"

The two figures hesitated, apparently trading glances with each other, though Atkynd still couldn't see their faces due to the glare of his spell. One of them turned to his left and called out, "Pasare! Why haven't you shot him again?!"

A third figure stepped out of the bushes, and Atkynd saw that it was holding a drawn bow, with another arrow leveled at him. His heart caught in his throat as he realized that if the archer released the arrow, he'd have no way to protect himself. However, the figure replied, "Because I'm curious. True, he seems to be an elf – I can see his ears – but… I've never seen a slave treated so kindly before."

"A well-treated slave is still a slave," the figure in front of Atkynd pointed out.

"Yes, but as they said, he's not treating her like a slave at all," the third figure – Pasare – replied. The archer lowered their head in thought, then added, "I… don't think this is a decision we can make. I suggest we take them both with us."

"What?!" the first two figures exclaimed. "Pasare, we're not taking a mer to the camp!"

"As a prisoner," Pasare amended. They turned their head towards Atkynd and added, "I'll offer you a choice. Surrender, and we'll spare you. For now. Refuse and die."

Atkynd grit his teeth as he glanced over his shoulder at Tari, who was still brandishing her knife in a low, defensive stance. "One question. What will happen to her if I do?" he asked.

Pasare's head tilted upwards, seeming surprised by his question. "She'll accompany us as a guest," Pasare replied. "You, on the other hand, will be bound and blinded until our leader decides what to do with you."

Atkynd chewed the inside of his cheek and caught Tari's eye. "What do you think?" he asked softly.

Tari's eyes flickered between their ambushers, and then she turned to Pasare. "I will make one demand," she announced. "Allow me to treat his wound."

Pasare considered her request, then finally lowered their bow and nodded. "Very well. Be quick about it."

Tari nodded, and both she and Atkynd lowered their weapons as well. As the adrenaline coursing through him evaporated, Atkynd suddenly felt the pain from his wound lance through him again. He suddenly felt sick and dizzy, and he fell to his knees, the muddy water splashing around him. Tari quickly turned and helped him into a sitting position, then began examining the wound with a grimace.

"Is the arrow barbed?" she asked Pasare. When the figure shook their head, she nodded, murmuring, "Good. Atkynd, this is going to hurt. On the count of three, I'm going to pull it out. Ready?" Atkynd nodded mutely, and she gripped the haft. "One." Suddenly, she yanked the shaft, forcefully but cleanly pulling it out of his shoulder. Atkynd screamed, glaring at Tari as the girl examined the bloody hole in his shoulder.

"What happened to three?!" he shouted.

"You would have tensed on three," Tari pointed out, then resumed grimly inspecting the wound. "It's not as deep as I feared, and it doesn't look like any of your tunic got in the wound. At least this will be a clean dressing. Hold still while I put a poultice on it."

Tari dug through her bag and pulled out two sprigs of herbs, muttering to herself, "Lady's Mantle… mugwort…." She kneaded the plants together in her hands, then took their waterskin and poured a bit of water onto them, dampening them. Once the plants had been pressed together, she tore part of Emero's riding blanket, and she pushed his tunic up, exposing the bloody wound. She pressed the herbs into the hole, ignoring Atkynd's sharp intake of breath, and then she tied the linen cloth over it. Nodding with satisfaction, she lowered the tunic again and stepped back.

"Don't move your arm too much," she warned Atkynd. "It'll take time to heal, but you should recover."

"Thank you. Again," Atkynd said, grinning sheepishly through his pain. "I keep relying on you for everything don't I?"

"It's the least I can do," Tari replied modestly. Atkynd smiled gently, but then felt his hands being pulled behind his back. He let out a hiss of pain as he glared over his shoulder at the figure pulling his hands.

"Rego, cover his eyes," the figure pulling Atkynd's arms ordered his companion. "We don't need him learning where our camp is."

"You'd have little to fear either way," Atkynd said blithely as he felt a strip of leather being wrapped around his wrists. "Tari can tell you herself, I'm terrible at finding my way."

"He is," Tari confirmed drily. The last thing Atkynd saw before a strip of cloth was bound around his eyes was their captors trading bemused glances one last time. Then he was enveloped by blackness and roughly shoved forward, a hand on his back pushing him to walk. After a moment, he felt a smaller, gentler arm wrap around his to help guide him as they began moving.

Atkynd didn't know how long they traveled. He simply focused on putting one foot in front of the other, which wasn't easy, given the soggy, uneven terrain. Several times, he stumbled over a root he couldn't see or nearly fell into a puddle of water. Each time, the hands on his arm and back steadied him, but he could hear the person behind him growling with irritation. Atkynd wanted to point out that he could walk more easily if he wasn't blindfolded, or if they just put him on Emero's back, but he decided not to antagonize them further.

As they marched, Tari tried to ask them questions – who they were, where they were going, what they were going to do with them. Each time, however, she was gently but firmly assured that her questions would be answered shortly. Atkynd suspected that they didn't want to divulge any information in front of "the elf," but he could hear Tari's own growing frustration at their obstinance. Eventually, she gave up and walked in silence.

At last, after what felt like hours, their captors began whispering to each other, though Atkynd couldn't make out what they were saying. Then, one of the voices said, "Come with us." Abruptly, Tari's arm released his, and when Atkynd started towards where he'd last felt her, a hand pressed against his chest and a feminine voice spoke up.

"She won't be long," Pasare assured him. "For now, just stand here and wait."

Atkynd exhaled slowly, vocalizing his displeasure, but he reluctantly let his hands fall back down to the top of his hips. The minutes trickled by slowly as Atkynd waited impatiently, shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. He tried to ignore the persistent throbbing in his arm, but with his eyes covered, he had little else to focus on, and eventually he began using the slow throbbing in his shoulder to track the passage of time.

Finally, he heard a rustling sound, and a strong hand wrapped itself around the back of his neck. "Your turn. Be respectful," a deep voice warned him. He was suddenly pushed forward, the hand lowering his head, and he felt a thin sheet of leather brush across his face. His feet found purchase on solid ground, and he was suddenly brought up short by his handler.

"Welcome," a soft, surprisingly deep, feminine voice said from what sounded like a few feet in front of him. "Rego, you can remove his bindings and unblind him."

"Are you certain?" Rego asked cautiously.

"I am. I wish to speak to him as a guest, not as a prisoner," the voice replied. Rego sighed, but Atkynd could feel his hands being untied.

"Thank you," Atkynd said, slipping automatically into his diplomatic training as a way to mask his growing irritation. "However, I would first like to know where I am and with whom I'm speaking with."

"Of course," the voice replied evenly. "You are in the depths of the Blackwood, in the camp of the Cyrod Slave Rebellion." As the cloth was pulled from his eyes, the voice added, "And I am the leader of this rebellion. My companions call me the Paravant."