Chapter 34
Pyre
"Close. You switched the runes for 'brelye,' and instead spelled it 'breyle,'" Telepe explained as he stood behind a young Nedic man named Akila. The boy turned and frowned at him as Telepe put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "It's a common mistake – I commit it once in a while myself. Otherwise, you're doing quite well." After a moment's thought, he suggested, "Let's try another word, shall we?"
Akila sighed, but then smiled and nodded at the praise. He turned around in time to see the snow completely cover the runes he had written, and then he turned back to Telepe. "Very well. What next?"
"Spell 'ceysel' for me," Telepe said. "I shall be by shortly, as I wish to check on the others."
Akila nodded and gripped his stick tightly in his mittened hand, a determined look on his face. Telepe grinned to himself as he stepped past the boy, his thick, woolen cloak brushing a trail through the snow behind him. While he had originally intended to hold his class inside, many of his students – particularly the younger ones – were clearly more interested in playing in the snow, especially as a new layer was falling in the courtyard of the city. Thus, Telepe had decided to offer a compromise, and even make a game of the lesson that day. He led the students out into the courtyard, then spaced them apart and assigned each of them six-letter words to write in the snow. They had to do so quickly, before the snow completely buried their letters, which added a dimension of speed to what was otherwise a test of accuracy. At first, a few of the students had protested that he was still making them study, but they quickly began to embrace the challenge he set before them, and soon they were eagerly slashing marks in the snow with their branches.
Telepe paused as he felt a pair of eyes on him, and he turned to see Tari smirking at him expectantly, her eyes glittering as she dared him to challenge her. Telepe glanced over his shoulder at the other students, then sighed and walked over to her, his gloved hands folded behind his back.
"You're certain you're ready for me to test you?" Telepe asked as she drew herself up.
"I am," Tari grinned.
Telepe nodded and began walking around behind her, watching her closely. "Very well. Nornal," he stated.
Tari crouched down and quickly drew out six wild runes in the powder. They were crudely written, but accurate. Telepe nodded and tilted his head up at the sky, considering his next word.
"Atatar," he said.
Tari grinned and quickly carved six more runes into the soft, pillowy snowbank. Telepe chuckled, feeling his own competitive spirit starting to burn.
"Edesel. Tyavoy. Magnus," Telepe demanded, deciding to give her a bit more of a challenge.
Tari barely took a moment to consider the words before she had written them in a neat row beside each other in the snow. As she turned to smirk smugly at him, Telepe raised an eyebrow.
"Rielle," he stated.
Tari began to write the word out, then hesitated. She chewed her lower lip as Telepe grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. Hesitantly, she wrote out a word, and when Telepe inspected it, he chuckled lightly to himself.
"Very close. However, 'rielle' has two 'l's," Telepe explained as he strolled around behind her. When Tari turned to glare at him, he added, "We haven't gone over double letters yet, so I'll confess that I cheated a bit." He laughed as Tari grabbed for him, dancing out of the way of her reach. "Though in my defense, I did state that I would only assign you six-letter words. I thought that would be a clue."
Tari opened her mouth, then closed it, glaring at him. "That was still unfair of you," she muttered.
"A bit," Telepe conceded, still grinning. He then reached out and put his hand on the top of her head. "Even so, excellent work. In truth, I was considering giving you some simple scrolls to read in your spare time. You're well ahead of everyone else, and I believe it's almost time for you to begin properly reading and writing."
Tari's eyes lit up, and a slow grin spread across her lips at Telepe's declaration. A moment later, however, her expression faltered. Telepe tilted his head slightly as he noticed her eyes drifting past him to fix on a point over his shoulder. "Well… while I'm elated to hear that, it feels a bit unfair of me to press ahead while…."
Telepe glanced over his shoulder at one of the round marble watchtowers built into the southern wall. Inside, he was certain Perrif was sitting or kneeling before a crackling fire, her eyes closed, and her hands clasped in prayer. Four days prior, Perrif claimed to have awoken from a dream where the gods spoke to her and requested that she begin her penance on behalf of her champion. She had immediately requested that the tower be made habitable for her fast and vigil, and the next day, she had locked herself in the tower with explicit instructions not to be disturbed. Since then, no one had heard from her, though the thick grey smoke drifting up through an opening in the tower indicated that she was still continuing to pray.
"She has other duties to attend to that are more important," Telepe said gently, squeezing Tari's shoulder. "And we have ours. Until then, the best thing that we can do is spend our time wisely by training and bettering ourselves." As she turned to look at him, he smiled warmly down at her. "Besides, it's been three days since she began her seclusion, so her meditation should soon end. So, we should simply watch for her return and remain… alert."
Telepe's smile faded, and he snarled the last word as his eyes fell on one of the other novices. His most troublesome student, Sevri, was lying peacefully in the snow, his hands pillowed behind his head and his mouth open to catch snowflakes. If he hadn't been so furious at the boy's disinterest in the lesson, Telepe would have been amazed at his ability to make himself comfortable in the freezing weather. Evidently, his thick furs were more than enough to keep him warm and comfortable, Telepe thought wryly.
Telepe slowly stalked over to the boy, his boots barely making a sound in the freshly fallen snow. As he drew near, he saw that the boy's eyes were closed, which only made the simmering anger in Telepe's chest flare even hotter. Silently, he held his hand out and closed his eyes, taking a slow breath. A green glow began to pulse in the palm of his hand as he concentrated on the silencing spell he had been struggling to learn over the past few days. Slowly, the magicka gathered along his fingers, and he tried to contain the sound, wondering for a brief, wild moment if he would ironically master the silencing spell at that moment. However, what happened next was what he had expected, and for once, he wasn't particularly disappointed.
A loud, snapping crack, like a clap of thunder, echoed through the city, startling everyone nearby. Sevri let out a frightened yelp and rolled over in the snow, inhaling a mouthful of it in the process. The boy choked and spat out the soft powder, then spent the next few moments coughing up what had slid down his throat. When he finally managed to clear his lungs, he glared up at Telepe, who stood over him with his arms folded over his chest, a cold look on his face.
"My apologies. I was unaware you did not sleep well last night," Telepe said in a biting tone. "As such, we shall make this test quick, so that you might return to your nap. Spell 'Lindai.'"
Sevri hesitated, then snatched up his stick from the ground, still glowering at Telepe sulkily. His hand hovered over a bank of freshly fallen snow, then he tentatively scratched two incorrect runes in the snow. He frowned, then turned to glance over at Telepe and shrug helplessly.
"I see," Telepe said flatly. "Something simpler, then. 'Malada.'"
Sevri heaved a sigh and began to scratch out a couple of the runes. To his credit, Telepe thought drily, he at least wrote the vowels properly, though he gave up when he tried to recall the other letters that formed the word.
"Hm. Sevri… spell your name," he said quietly.
Sevri's eyes narrowed with anger, the hand holding the branch trembling. Telepe could feel the eyes of the other students on them, but he kept his gaze on the young man before him. Finally, Sevri threw down the branch and folded his arms over his chest. Telepe sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
"You've practiced nothing that I taught, have you?" Telepe asked.
"Why should I bother?" Sevri demanded.
"Any skill requires repetition before one may master it," Telepe replied simply. "At the very least, I would have expected you to have memorized the alphabet by now. Every other student can recite it."
"Perhaps I simply don't have any talent for it!" Sevri snapped. "Have you considered that?!"
"Talent is irrelevant," Telepe replied shortly. "Talent merely dictates how swiftly and easily one learns. If one does not learn, they shall never become proficient. No, what you lack is interest, Sevri, not talent."
"If you could teach properly-!" Sevri shouted.
"No instructor in the world could teach you," Telepe replied coldly, turning to walk a few paces away before looking back over his shoulder. "A student who-"
Telepe caught movement out of the corner of his eye. His body reacted before his mind, and he swayed to the side as Sevri's fist cut through the air where his jaw had been a split second earlier. Sevri's expression shifted from anger to surprise as his momentum threw him off-balance, and he skidded across the snow before falling unceremoniously into a snowbank. The other students began laughing, until Telepe turned and shot them an icy glare as Sevri pushed himself up.
Before Sevri could throw another punch, Telepe held up his hand, and a flash of green light erupted from his palm, which struck Sevri in the stomach. Immediately, his muscles went slack, and a glazed look entered his eye. A cold glare settled over Telepe's face, though privately, even he was surprised by his quick reaction. Months of fighting had honed his reflexes more than he had realized, he mused.
"As I was saying, a student who does not wish to learn cannot be taught, regardless of how skilled the teacher is," Telepe continued, folding his hands behind his back. "You are not being held against your will, Sevri. You are not a slave. If you have no desire to learn, then I shall not teach. Should that change, should you truly wish to learn, then I shall be happy to instruct you once more. Until then, you are no longer welcome in my lessons. Begone."
Sevri dully turned and began wandering away from the group, still under the compulsion of Telepe's calming spell. Telepe let out a slow sigh, his breath misting in the air, as a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. After a moment, he realized that his students were still staring at him, and he turned to face them, straightening up.
"Let us continue with the lesson, then," he announced, as though nothing had happened. "From this point on, I shall be assigning you seven-letter words. The objective is the same as before – attempt to write the word before the snow erases it. Fileva, let us begin with you. If you would write the word 'anyamis-'"
"Telepe!" Tari called out, interrupting him. Telepe closed his eyes and took a slow breath to curb his growing annoyance, then turned to face her, only to see her pointing at the watchtower where Perrif was praying. He abruptly realized that smoke was no longer billowing out of the top of the tower, and a moment later, the door leading into the tower swung open.
Perrif lingered in the doorway for a moment, hunched over with fatigue, before weakly staggering out into the snow. Telepe and Tari traded a look, then immediately dashed across the courtyard to help her. Fortunately, they weren't the only ones who reacted to her sudden appearance – two Nedic guards hurried down from the walls and took hold of her arms to hold her up. Perrif looked up at them blearily and smiled faintly, giving them both a weak nod of thanks as Tari and Telepe stopped short in front of her. Tari leaned in and inspected her for a moment, frowning to herself as she murmured under her breath.
"Broth!" Tari suddenly shouted over her shoulder at the men and women staring at Perrif. "Someone hurry to the kitchens and fetch me broth! Preferably chicken or venison! And a bit of bread as well!"
Telepe, meanwhile, apprehensively inspected Perrif. Her skin was pale and clammy, and there were deep bruises under her eyes, which were glazed and unfocused. A weak but triumphant smile spread across her lips as she slowly looked up at him.
"My… first task… is complete," Perrif murmured.
"Don't speak," Telepe said softly. He looked up at the guards and added, "Take her back inside the tower and sit her down. She's in no shape to be moving about." The warriors nodded and maneuvered her back inside the tower, gently sitting her down on one of the stone benches next to the door.
"No… no. I must continue my trials," Perrif muttered deliriously, shaking her head. "Until I do, Pelinal's wrath shall not be quenched. I must next spill my blood-"
"Pelinal's wrath can wait until after you've eaten," Tari interrupted, narrowing her green eyes at Perrif. "You are not letting blood while you're in this state. If you attempt to do so right now, it might kill you."
Perrif's dreamy expression turned sour as she glared at Tari. "I've sent our knights to retrieve him already," she stated, her tone suddenly much clearer. "Should they encounter him while he yet rages…."
"If they are truly your finest knights, I would expect them to be skilled enough – and wise enough – to avoid him while he's consumed by his rage," Telepe insisted, putting his hands on her shoulders. "What's more, it has not been so long since you sent them after him. I doubt that they have found him just yet."
"And it shall do us little good if you perish before you complete the tasks the gods have set before you," Tari added firmly as a teenaged girl appeared in the doorway, cradling a steaming clay bowl filled with chicken broth. Tari smiled briefly at her in thanks as she took the bowl and pressed it into Perrif's hands. "They can wait a bit longer. Eat," she added, the last word a firm order that brokered no argument.
Perrif opened her mouth to protest, but then her eyes fell on the bowl in her hands. Her blue eyes suddenly widened, and she hungrily brought the bowl to her lips, nearly sloshing the liquid over the sides as she did. She took a few deep gulps of the soup before Tari held a hand out, a worried look on her face.
"Slowly! Slowly," Tari added hastily. "If you drink it that quickly, you'll make yourself ill."
Perrif made no indication that she had heard the advice, but the sounds of her swallowing became slower and steadier. After a few long moments, she lowered the bowl with a gasp, revealing that she had already consumed nearly all of it. She then let out a slow sigh and managed to smile at Tari.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Forgive me… I've been so focused upon my prayers for the last few days…."
"You are also suffering from thirst and exhaustion. I'm astounded that you're this lucid," Tari added as she put a hand on her forehead. "You also seem to be running a fever. Once you've eaten your fill, we should take you to bed."
"No," Perrif said stubbornly. Tari again narrowed her eyes, but Perrif held up her hand, adding, "You may think my words are merely delirious rantings, but I have spent the last three days praying to the gods, and they only now assured me that I had shown my devotion to their satisfaction. They now wish for me to shed my blood on the spot of the temple mount, to consecrate it and baptize it in their name. Then, once construction on the temple has begun, they shall soothe Pelinal's madness and see to it that he is safely returned to us." A determined look settled on her face as she added, "I thank you for insisting upon a brief respite, Tari, as it was both warranted and much needed. However, the swifter I complete this task, the swifter Pelinal's rage shall be calmed, and my champion returned to us. I must see to this immediately."
Telepe and Tari glanced at one another, and then Telepe let out a soft sigh. "How much blood must you shed?" he asked softly, folding his arms over his chest.
"Until they are satisfied," Perrif replied shortly. When Telepe and Tari both narrowed their eyes at her, she added, "Not enough to place my life in danger, I assure you. As I've said before, the gods demand a taxing sacrifice, but they certainly do not wish for my death."
Telepe glanced at Tari warily, and when the young woman met his gaze, she let out a soft sigh and brushed her fingers through her hair. "You shall not allow me to treat you until you have seen to this matter, correct?" she asked Perrif.
"It is something I must do," Perrif stated stubbornly.
Tari shook her head, then turned to the warriors watching them anxiously. "Help her to her feet. We shall take her to the temple. I shall oversee your bloodletting, and as soon as it is finished, you shall be taken to bed so that I may tend to you properly. If the gods have further demands of you, they must wait until after you have been treated."
Perrif smiled faintly and nodded. "You have my thanks."
"You may thank me once you have recovered from this ordeal," Tari replied shortly as the guards hurried forward to help Perrif to her feet. Telepe, meanwhile, strode over to one of the guards standing by the door and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Go to the palace and retrieve Inhaal," he said softly. "The Paravant wishes for construction on the temple to begin immediately, and I know that he has been creating plans for the temple ever since she mentioned it."
"Very well," the guard nodded, and she hurried across the snow-covered ground.
Telepe let out a slow breath, then turned to watch as the guards escorted Perrif out of the tower. In the mid-afternoon light, she seemed even paler, and the dark spots under her eyes were even more pronounced. He wondered if Perrif had slept at all in the past three days, or if she had been stubborn enough to remain awake through her prayers as well. If it was the latter, then it was no wonder she could hear the voices of the gods, he thought drily.
Perrif was guided to a large, raised, marble platform, which was to serve as the foundation of her new temple. She smiled at the men who had escorted her and waved them off as she sank to her knees onto the cold, snow-covered ground. Word of her ending her vigil had evidently spread quickly, as by now, over a hundred citizens had gathered and were watching her intently, whispering to each other. Perrif briefly glanced around at the worried faces of the men and women surrounding her, and she managed a weak smile before turning her gaze skyward and extending her hands into the air.
"Praise be to the Divines! Praise be to they who forged our world from chaos and breathed us into being!" Perrif shouted. Her voice was dry and strained, but it still rang clearly off the low wooden houses surrounding the temple's foundations. "We thank you for delivering us our victories and showing us the paths to our freedom! We now offer a small token of our devotion to you, the divine souls who watch over us all! We also beg your forgiveness for our transgressions, and pray that this humble offering pleases you and ensures your continued favor!"
A ripple ran through the crowd, and Telepe watched as many of the men and women sank to their knees as well in the snow, holding their hands up in an imitation of Perrif's pose. Most were watching her closely, trying to mimic her example, and some were whispering fervent prayers to the gods as well. Telepe frowned faintly to himself, but said nothing. To them, this must have seemed like a spontaneous display of her devotion to the gods, a public demonstration of her piety, rather than a humiliating exhibition of her shame that she had been unable to control Whitestrake's murderous nature and was now forced to grovel before the gods to regain their favor. If she was embarrassed by the people joining in, however, she didn't show it.
"We declare in your name that so long as we draw breath, we shall fight against the depravities of the wicked Daedra and their loathsome followers!" Perrif continued. Telepe winced as he shot a glance around the crowd, and was relieved to see that none of her Ayleid allies were in attendance, including Prince Dynar. "In your honor shall we raise this temple! We declare that this shall be only the first of many temples that shall spread throughout Cyrod, throughout Tamriel, consecrated on behalf of the true gods, the Divines! Accept this sacrifice, and hear our prayers! We beg you, almighty Divines, continue to guide us on the path to victory!"
As her final words died down, the murmuring of her followers became louder. She looked over her shoulder at Tari, who hurried forward with her small bronze knife drawn. Telepe stepped a bit closer as Tari began to roll up the sleeve of Perrif's robe while Perrif held her hand out, offering her palm.
"What are you doing?" Tari asked, frowning at Perrif's outstretched hand.
"You said that you would draw my blood," Perrif stated.
"Yes. But I won't cut your hand," Tari scoffed, frowning even more deeply. "Your skin is thinnest there, and there's too much of a risk that I might slash a muscle, vein, or artery… perhaps even the bone itself. I have no desire to maim you. Only a fool would cut their hand to let blood. Hold still."
Tari rolled Perrif's sleeve up enough to expose her left arm, and then she positioned the knife against her shoulder. Taking a slow breath, she drew the knife quickly across her soft skin, barely slicing into it. Blood began trickling down Perrif's arm, and she winced as she held her hand out, allowing the scarlet drops to roll off of her fingertips and stain the snow-covered stones below.
"Honored Divines, I beseech you! Accept this humble offering, this symbol of devotion-!" Perrif began. She paused, however, as many of the other Nedes rose to their feet and crowded around her. Her eyes widened with shock and horror as they likewise drew their knives and began cutting their own arms. "What are you doing?!" she cried.
"As you bleed for the gods, so do we, Paravant," a young man said, smiling serenely at her as he let the blood flow along his underarm to splash near hers on the stones below.
"And if the gods demand blood to show their favor, it's only right that we show our devotion to them as you do," another, older man added as his own blood ran down his hand.
Perrif continued to protest, but the men and women around her ignored her, and each proceeded to add a few drops of blood to the small pool beside hers. When it became clear that she wouldn't be able to dissuade them, she swallowed uncomfortably and turned her eyes skyward again.
"A-accept this humble offering from your devoted followers," she announced shakily, clearly distressed by her followers' imitation of her. "We plead for your continued favor, and that you shall continue to secure our victories, until the Ayleid hordes have been scattered and the jungles of Cyrod are free for all men to live in peace and harmony!"
A general murmur of agreement came from the people around her as Tari pursed her lips and slowly helped Perrif to her feet. She took a thin strip of cloth and wrapped it around her shoulder as Telepe stepped forward and spoke in a low voice to Perrif.
"Have the gods finally been appeased?" he asked in a dry tone.
"We can only hope," Perrif murmured in reply, shaking her head. "I shall receive their answer shortly, I am certain."
"Mm. Should they continue to be displeased, I would speak with them privately about what else you can do to regain their favor," Telepe stated wryly as he glanced at the small mob of Nedes still spilling their blood onto the flagstones of the future temple. "We don't wish to encourage mass sacrifices like this, especially if they place your citizens' health in danger."
"I did not expect them to participate," Perrif protested.
"Your words guide your followers, Perrif," Telepe stated bluntly. "They look to you as an example. If your example is to show your devotion to the gods by mutilating yourself, they shall follow it." He glanced uneasily over his shoulder, then added, "Perhaps it would be prudent to devise new methods of supplicating yourself before the gods in the future."
"I concur… though this was their demand," Perrif sighed. She then slumped against Tari, who grimaced and quickly propped her up before she collapsed. "However, I shall need to ponder it more when I am of sounder mind," she slurred.
"Yes, let's get you some rest," Tari murmured as she hoisted Perrif higher on her shoulder. "Telepe, if you would…?"
Telepe moved to help her, but Perrif waved him away. "No… you have one more task that I wish for you to complete, Telepe, as swiftly as possible," Perrif murmured to him. Telepe scowled at her, until she nodded to her left. He followed her gaze and saw Inhaal standing off to the side, gripping a hammer in one hand and a papyrus scroll in the other.
"You meant that you wish for work to begin on the temple immediately?" Telepe asked, unable to keep from chuckling.
"Until the gods see that our devotion is genuine, they shall not be placated," Perrif mumbled. "Nor shall they dispel the bloody haze that still clouds Pelinal's mind. Despite your assurances, I fear that my knights are drawing close to Pelinal. I shall not have their blood on my hands." For a moment, she raised her head and pinned Telepe with a clear, firm stare. "See to it."
"As you say," Telepe replied, inclining his head. At his words, Perrif finally relaxed, slumping against Tari, who swore under her breath as Perrif's weight made her stumble. Another warrior hurried forward to relieve some of the burden on Tari's slender shoulders, and together they began carrying her away from the plaza.
Telepe quietly watched the women depart as Inhaal approached him, his brawny arms folded over his chest. "Strange rituals you have here in the south," he remarked.
"Us? I hail from the north as well," Telepe retorted with a slight smile. "I've nothing to do with their rituals. I tried to dissuade her myself."
"Truly? I'm surprised she didn't accede," Inhaal remarked. "You seem to have her ear."
"Usually, yes," Telepe nodded. "But once she sets her mind upon something, no one shall steer her from it. It's frustrating… but also one of the most compelling things about her," he added with a slight smile.
"Indeed," Inhaal said slowly, before shaking his head. "In any case, she mentioned that she wishes for us to begin construction of the temple immediately." When Telepe turned around and nodded, he unfurled the scroll, revealing a diagram written in charcoal. "If so, I would recommend that we follow these plans. We shall begin by mining granite from the surrounding mountains…."
The days passed slowly as winter settled over Sancre Tor. The initial joy and wonder the Nedes had felt upon witnessing their first snowfall had completely vanished by the time the fifth such storm forced them to barricade themselves inside their dark, smoky houses. As the cold became harsher, the citizens became increasingly despondent, as there was little for them to do but weather the storms and try to keep warm.
Thankfully, Perrif quickly recovered from her fasting and bloodletting, and after three days of rest, she once again appeared healthy. When she was not attending Telepe's lessons, she was overseeing the construction of the temple to the Divines. Inhaal was clearly annoyed by her nearly constant presence, but he was not foolish enough to attempt to send her away, so he reluctantly endured her critical eye as the men labored tirelessly in the snow, and slowly, the grand building took shape.
Telepe, meanwhile, had plenty to occupy his time. Between teaching the citizens to read and write and aiding Edanu with his weekly court, he seemed to always have something to attend to. However, though there was much to distract him, he was nevertheless unable to escape the constant worry gnawing in his chest. Part of it was anxiety over the fact that he had not yet written replies to either the High King of Skyrim or the King of the Bjoulsae – though the heavy snows gave him an excuse and would make the delay understandable – and part of it was concern that Pelinal had not yet been retrieved. Though Sancre Tor was a very defensible and secure settlement, he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he did not feel truly at ease without Pelinal in the city to help defend them.
"Next, I shall hear the grievances of Gera," Edanu announced, snapping Telepe out of his musings. He let out a quiet sigh and absently dipped his reed pen into his inkwell while his other hand brushed over his eyes to clear them of their bleariness. Ever since the expedition to Ceya-Tar, Edanu had held the city's weekly court hearings by himself. It was a role he had apparently settled into quickly, as when he had returned, Edanu rarely asked Telepe for his opinion on the judgements that he passed. However, he did request that Telepe continue to make records of his cases. Telepe had agreed, though with Edanu now comfortably presiding over the court and only rarely requesting his advice, he was now doing little more than serving as the court scribe. It wasn't as though he resented the position, but he often found his mind wandering as the hours dragged on. The sooner one of his students mastered writing, the better, he thought wistfully as he readied his pen for the next case.
"Centurion, I beg for your kindness," Gera announced. She was a small woman approaching her later years, and she stood before Edanu stooped over and clutching her robes tightly around her. "This winter is proving far harsher than I anticipated, and my home has fallen into disrepair as the snows have continued to fall."
"Do you not have sons or grandsons that can aid you?" Edanu asked, leaning forward in his chair with his thick hands clasped before him.
"My sons serve as warriors for the Paravant, and they claim that after a day's patrol, they're simply too tired to retrieve wood, especially in this cold," Gera explained plaintively. "I've seen their hands when they return – they're often bright red from the chill, so I've no reason to doubt them."
Telepe resisted the urge to snort in disbelief. Patrolling the city was dull work, certainly, but it was hardly strenuous. Few were foolish enough to commit crimes in a city where most of the population carried a weapon, and warriors were often within earshot if someone cried for help. It was more likely that her sons were simply taking advantage of her ignorance and making excuses to avoid additional work. He suspected that they were simply holding their hands in the snow for a few moments when they returned home, which would indeed turn their skin red.
Edanu seemed to have the same thought. "Your boys… Varis and Levu, am I correct?" he asked slowly.
"They are, Centurion!" Gera said quickly. "They speak quite highly of you!"
"I imagine so," Edanu murmured to himself, settling back in his chair, a sly smile settling over his face. "Very well. If their duties are preventing them from aiding their mother, then that is a matter I should address personally. Tomorrow, they shall be granted a reprieve from their patrol, and instead they shall spend the day at your beck and call, tending to anything you require. If they refuse even one of your commands, return here and inform me."
Gera's lined face broke out into a wide, semi-toothless grin, and she bowed her head in gratitude. "You have my thanks, Centurion!"
"Think nothing of it," Edanu replied, motioning for her to be on her way. Out of the corner of his eye, the older man shot Telepe a wry smirk, while Telepe chuckled to himself as he finished writing the final line. He imagined that once Gera was finished with them, her sons would be eager to return to their patrol – and that Edanu would be just as eager to welcome them back, he thought with a wicked grin.
"Next on your list is Aparo," Telepe announced, his smile fading as he tapped the end of his pen against his papyrus. "I believe he said that his cow-"
Before Telepe could finish, a young woman burst into the hall, short of breath. Telepe paused as she ran up the entryway, came to a halt in front of Edanu, and inclined her head.
"F-forgive… the interruption," she panted, her face flushed from both cold and exertion. "Riders are approaching the city. One is clad in silver and white."
Telepe glanced sharply over at Edanu, who caught his look and nodded, then pushed himself up. "This court is adjourned," he announced. "Those of you with grievances, return here tomorrow so that we might address them."
There was a low rumbling of discontent, but Telepe was already waving his hand over the papyrus to make the ink dry faster before rolling it up and stuffing it into the bag around his shoulder. He then practically ran out of the palace and into the main plaza of the city.
Word of the arriving riders had clearly already spread throughout the city, judging from the number of citizens milling about and chattering with each other excitedly. Telepe pushed his way through the crowd, trying to hurry to the walls. As he neared the gates, Telepe noticed that Tari and Perrif were both already standing on the battlements, murmuring to each other.
With a growl of frustration, Telepe half-wove, half-forced his way through the throng of people, ignoring the indignant protests of the men and women he pushed his way past. At last, he managed to stumble up to the top of the gates to stand beside Tari, who glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and gave him a brief nod before once again staring at the road. Telepe followed her gaze, and when he caught sight of what she was looking at, he exhaled slowly.
Perrif's trio of knights rode in front of an unmistakable figure that was plodding slowly down the road. His head was obscured by his winged helmet, and his white tabard was soaked with blood, but no other warrior in Cyrod wore armor like Pelinal's. Unless the figure approaching had somehow slain Pelinal and stolen his armor – which was so unlikely that Telepe found the idea laughable – then Perrif's champion had finally returned.
As they drew near, Perrif wordlessly turned and hurried back down the steps just as the gates to Sancre Tor began to open. Telepe glanced at Tari, who nodded silently and led the way to the steps. They followed Perrif closely as the knights walked into the city, only to be immediately surrounded by scores of yelling, shouting Nedes. Thankfully, the guards began pushing the mob back, allowing Pelinal and his escorts to enter the city in spite of the crowd.
Telepe briefly lost sight of Perrif as the mass of people swallowed them, and he could feel Tari clinging to his cloak so that she wouldn't be lost in the crowd as well. Craning his neck over the Nedes' heads and silently thanking the gods that his Altmer blood made him so tall, he finally spotted Perrif standing in the center of the plaza, surrounded by a half-dozen warriors with their spears lowered to prevent the Nedic citizens from coming any closer while she was speaking with her champion. Telepe took Tari's hand and began wading through the crowd towards her as Pelinal and his escort came to a halt.
As he forced his way through the throng of citizens, he could see Pelinal slowly approaching his lady, moving as though he was carrying a mountain on his back. Perrif stood with her hands folded in front of her as the knight removed his helmet and lowered his head. His white hair was matted with blood, though Telepe couldn't see a visible wound on him, so he presumed that the blood was not Pelinal's. Though he couldn't hear what they were saying, he could see Pelinal's lips moving as he kept his head bowed and his eyes on the ground. Perrif listened quietly, then took his head in her hands and tilted his face up to look at him. She responded in a soft voice, which was also drowned out by the crowd. At last, as Perrif let go of Pelinal, Telepe managed to push his way through the horde and staggered into the central plaza, catching himself just before he accidentally impaled himself on one of the warrior's spears.
Telepe started towards Perrif, but when she noticed him, she briefly looked past Pelinal's shoulder and subtly shook her head, warning him away. Telepe hesitated, then stopped short and nodded, respecting her wishes. As he waited, he instead turned his attention to one of the knights that had escorted Pelinal back to Sancre Tor.
"Well done," he said, walking over and putting a hand on the knight's shoulder. She was the lone female of the group, and he dimly recalled that Perrif had called her Evazi.
The young woman blinked at him, glancing briefly at his hand, and then nodded graciously. "Think nothing of it. It was the Paravant's command, after all, and we were obligated to carry it out."
"Even so, it must have been difficult," Telepe remarked, looking past her towards Pelinal. "Especially considering how volatile he can be…."
"Actually, he was quite placid, surprisingly," the second knight – Galvis, Telepe reminded himself – remarked as he pulled his helmet off and shook out his dark, sweaty hair. "In fact, he almost seemed ashamed of himself."
"Truly?" Telepe asked, frowning. "We feared he would still be enraged."
"Not when we found him, no," the third knight, Baru, answered. "Thankfully for us, too. I've seen him fight, and if he had not wished for us to retrieve him, we would not have been able to."
"No, you wouldn't," Telepe agreed drily. "Where did you find him?"
"We followed his trail east for several days," Galvis replied, setting his helmet under his arm as he spoke. "It was not difficult to track him, as there was a trail of destruction that ran for miles. Frankly, it looked like a violent storm had passed through the land, save that no storm would wreak that much destruction on everything in its path. We eventually found him in a cave, the entrance of which had been marked with a crude red diamond design. We suspect that the local Ayleids had painted it, as a warning for others to avoid the area."
"We were rather wary of what awaited us within, as you can well imagine," Evazi chimed in. "In fact, I'll confess that I nearly balked," she added with a sheepish grin. "Even so, the Paravant's command was absolute, and we dared not refuse it. And so, we entered the cave. Once inside, we quickly found Whitestrake, crouched before a fire, staring into it. He didn't look up as we approached, only asking if the Paravant had sent for him. When we confirmed that she had, he immediately stood and walked out of the cave, announcing that he would return immediately."
"We even offered to let him ride with us, but he refused, stating that he would walk," Baru added with a shrug. "Since then, he's barely spoken to any of us, and none of us was fool enough to press him for conversation."
"Wise of you," Telepe remarked with a sigh. "In any case, you all have more than earned a reprieve, I'd say. Fetch some food and enjoy some rest. If the Paravant has further need of you, I'll retrieve you myself."
"Very good. And thank you," Evazi nodded, and the Galvis briefly clapped Telepe on the shoulder as they walked past. Telepe watched them depart, then turned around in time to see Perrif beckoning him closer.
"Telepe, when you returned from the battle, you gathered as many of the bodies as you could, yes?" she asked as he approached.
"…Those that we could, yes," Telepe said slowly as Pelinal turned to stare at him. He noticed that the knight's eyes were bloodshot, and he found himself shying away from the intensity of Pelinal's gaze.
"What of Huna's?" Pelinal growled.
Telepe forced himself to stop backing away and squared his shoulders. "I personally ensured that his body was returned to Sancre Tor. It has been kept in the coldest parts of the mines, to prevent it from rotting," he replied.
Pelinal's eyes briefly widened with surprise. "Did you?" he asked hoarsely. "Why?"
"I thought that you would like the chance to say farewell," Telepe replied simply. "It was the least that we could salvage from that disaster of a battle."
Pelinal stepped a bit closer, and Telepe's blood froze. The white-haired knight stared at him silently for a few long seconds, and then he turned back around to face Perrif. "I wish for a funeral to be held for him," Pelinal stated.
Perrif nodded once, folding her hands in front of her. "Of course. I believe that it would be a good opportunity to honor all of those that have fallen up to this point."
"As you wish," Pelinal growled. "If you have no further need of me?"
"Not now, no," Perrif answered.
Pelinal nodded once and stalked away across the snow. Telepe slowly exhaled, his breath misting in the cold air and his heart once again pounding rapidly against his ribs. Every time Pelinal turned his gaze upon him, he felt that the knight was restraining himself from decapitating him. This time, however, there had been a flicker of mixed relief and sorrow in the knight's gaze. Telepe supposed that it was the closest Pelinal would ever come to thanking him.
"I shall speak with Inhaal. Though the walls have not yet been raised, I believe it would be fitting to hold the funeral in the center of the future temple," Telepe suggested, turning to Perrif.
"I concur. If you would," Perrif requested, and Telepe bowed before turning and hurrying off to find the architect.
That evening, a large crowd was gathered around the pyre that had been built in the center of the rectangular foundations of the temple. Most were shivering in the biting cold as the wind whipped snow and ice around them. The only illumination came from the flickering torches that had been set around the edges of the future temple, most of which continually threatened to die entirely as the frigid wind whistled along the stones.
In the middle of the logs rested Huna's body. The young man had been dressed in a rich chiton made of pristine white wool, and his corpse had been washed and oiled. His hands gripped an ornate, bronze-tipped spear, and a wooden shield rested on his chest. Aside from the visible wound in his eye, his expression was peaceful, as though he had simply lain down to sleep. It was ironic, Telepe thought bitterly, as he felt Huna of all people would never wish to rest so long as the war was still raging.
"What farce is this?" Telepe heard someone mutter bitterly behind him. "My brother was slain in battle as well, yet he wasn't granted a funeral this grand. We were given his body and told to burn him ourselves. And Huna was no great warrior. He's only so honored because he was the Whitestrake's lover. Were I to bed him next, would I then be granted such honors? Perhaps he would gift me a fine set of armor too, or-"
"If you are so disgusted, perhaps you should voice your complaints to Whitestrake himself," another voice snapped. "Go on."
The first man let out a "humph" and demurred, and Telepe heard a couple of nervous titters from others nearby. The laughter died down, however, as a slow drumbeat filled the air and a figure appeared at the edge of the firelight.
Pelinal slowly marched through the crowd, which parted like water at his approach. His helmet was down, obscuring his face, but his gaze was fixed squarely on the pyre in front of him. Beside him walked Perrif, her hood up and her hands folded inside her robe – partially out of respect, and partially to ward off the cold, Telepe suspected, as he tugged his cloak tighter around his body. Tari, who was standing beside him, nestled closer as the wind blew over them, and the men and women around them collectively inhaled sharply.
"The Paravant asked you to organize this funeral, yes? Why are you not part of this procession?" Tari whispered to him as she watched Pelinal and Perrif approach Huna's body.
"I have no desire to be within Pelinal's reach until long after this funeral has ended," Telepe murmured in reply. "His madness may have subsided, but his grief has not, and I doubt even Perrif can fully control him right now. Besides… let's not fool ourselves. I have no place in this ceremony. Even Perrif barely does. This funeral is for Whitestrake alone."
Pelinal stopped in front of the pyre and lifted his helmet, staring silently down at Huna's body. He then leaned in and whispered something against his ear, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. He then roughly drew his sword, intentionally scraping it against its scabbard to let a sharp, metallic ringing echo through the air. He gazed at the body for a moment longer, then brought his sword above his head and slashed it into the thick logs.
Flame erupted along the edge of Pelinal's blade, igniting the pyre as soon as it made contact. Within moments, a roaring fire had spread along the logs and was licking at Huna's body. Pelinal gazed into the flames for several long moments, until Perrif approached him and put a soft hand on his shoulder. Pelinal leaned down as she said something in his ear, to which he responded with a curt nod. In the torchlight, Telepe saw Perrif's usual serene smile spread across her face, though her expression was tinged with sadness and regret.
"This evening, we do not merely mourn the loss of Huna, who was tragically struck down by our vile enemies," Perrif announced as she turned to face the crowd, her voice echoing softly above the crackling of the flames. "Rather, let us take this opportunity to remember all that have given their lives to help secure our freedom. Those of us that now walk without chains owe our liberty to the fallen, and it is the least we can do to honor them by ensuring their sacrifice is not forgotten. Join me now as I pray to the Divines, to beseech them and beg them to watch over the spirits of our brothers and sisters as they ascend to Aetherius, where they might finally know peace."
Telepe noticed the Nedes lowering their heads as Perrif did, and out of respect, he followed suit. However, he couldn't resist glancing around as he did. Some were quietly weeping, while others were whispering prayers that he couldn't hear. Beside him, Tari was staring silently at the ground, though when she noticed his gaze, she glanced up and flashed a brief smile at him, just as Perrif raised her head and held her hands out.
"Thank you. Now, it has been a long night for many of us. Let us retire, so we might gather our thoughts and reflect upon the events of this evening," Perrif said. "You have my gratitude for attending. May the Divines watch over you."
With her final word of dismissal, most of the Nedes began shuffling off, making their way towards their dwellings, more than eager to finally be out of the cold. A few lingered, staring into the flickering light of Huna's funeral pyre, while others continued to pray quietly before finally raising their heads and departing as well. Pelinal and Perrif, however, remained where they were, gazing silently into the fire.
Telepe felt a nudge at his arm, and he glanced down to see Tari nodding towards the pair. Telepe swallowed, as he was still hesitant to be anywhere near Pelinal at the moment. At her urging, however, he reluctantly made his way towards Perrif and Pelinal, trying to ignore the growing knot lodging itself in his stomach.
Perrif turned as they approached and favored them both with a warm smile and a nod of her head.
Telepe nodded in return, stopping a few feet from her, and folding his arms tightly over his chest to ward off the cold. Though the heat of the fire was tempting him, he didn't dare come any closer to Pelinal, who continued to stare intently at Huna's now-scorched body.
"Are you well?" Telepe asked, turning his attention back to Perrif.
"My health has improved," Perrif assured him. "I can now eat a full meal without feeling ill. More importantly, the gods have been appeased, so I need no longer fear that we shall lose their favor."
"Nor shall you feel such fear ever again," Pelinal growled. He abruptly turned from the flames and stalked over to Perrif. Telepe took a few steps back as the knight stopped in front of the Paravant and dropped to one knee. "No apology shall ever excuse the trial you have suffered on my behalf," he said, lowering his head contritely. "Allow me to instead reaffirm my oath to you as your champion. Never again shall I dishonor you in the sight of the gods."
Perrif shook her head and reached down, taking hold of the cheeks of Pelinal's helmet. She tilted his head up gently, forcing him to look at her, as she replied softly, "You fight with passion, Pelinal. I would have it no other way. There is no shame in feeling rage on behalf of the one that you loved."
"Perhaps not… but my duty is to you, above all else," Pelinal said in a low voice. "I swear, in the name of the Divines, that never again shall I forget whom I serve and what my purpose is. Huna… was unlike anyone else in this world, but he is not who I was sworn to protect and aid. You are, my lady."
Perrif hesitated, then nodded once and gently released his face. "Then I shall gladly accept your oath once more, Pelinal Whitestrake," she answered in a much firmer tone. "Now, are you prepared to continue our crusade?"
"As ever, Paravant," Pelinal answered firmly.
"Very good," Perrif nodded, folding her hands behind her back. She then glanced at Telepe and Tari, who were still hovering nearby. "You as well," she added, addressing both of them. "I shall have need of you both shortly. For now, please rest. You shall have little enough of it in the coming days, I assure you."
"As you say," Telepe smiled, and he and Tari both inclined their heads.
A/N: And that is how Red Ruby Cave got its name.