Tales of the First Era: Alessia

by Blackvvater

In the earliest days of recorded history, a half-elven Breton finds himself swept up in a war between the oppressive Ayleid Empire and their human slaves - a war that will determine the fate of Cyrod and the course of history for Tamriel.

54. Chapter 54: The Staff of Magnus

Chapter 54

The Staff of Magnus

Telepe winced as the booming Shout of one of Vrage's Tongues echoed across the marshy plains near the bank of the Niben River. The Shout ripped through the air and crashed into the outer walls of Vanua, creating a spiderweb of cracks that ran up the to the crenellations. As the last echoes of the Shout faded, the dazed Ayleid warriors slowly picked themselves up and staggered back into position. They then resumed shouting vicious, spiteful insults at the besiegers, but since the rebels were camped well outside of the range of their arrows, there was little else they could do.

"Still defiant, are they?" Telepe heard someone ask. He glanced over his shoulder as Dynar walked up beside him, frowning as he stared at the distant city.

"I once again offered them peace terms, but they refuse to hear them," Telepe said with a helpless shrug. "At this rate, it may well come down to a battle."

"I imagine that's what they want," Dynar said grimly. "It seems they simply wish to delay us. We haven't much time left if we wish to retrieve the Staff of Magnus, and if they know that's what we're after…."

Telepe frowned and nodded in agreement. "I know. But we do still have a week remaining, if Tari's vision is accurate," he pointed out.

"And our destination is a few days north of here," Dynar countered. He sighed and turned back to Vanua. "Are you certain we should be spending our time taking this city?"

"Well, if we bypass them and continue marching north, they could threaten our rear. But do I believe taking Vanua is more important than retrieving the Staff? No," Telepe admitted. When Dynar turned to stare at him, he reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small slip of papyrus. "However, a falcon arrived earlier this morning, carrying this. It's in Perrif's handwriting. She says that she'll rejoin us by the end of the day, so long as we're still nearby." He shrugged as he slipped it back into his pouch. "While I imagine she expected to meet us on the other side of the bridge, I'm certain that the citizens of Sard will happily inform her of our current location. In the meantime, this is where the remnants of the Ayleid army fled to, so I see no reason not to press our advantage. Since we need to wait for them anyways, we may as well see if we can force Vanua to surrender before they arrive."

"Fair point," Dynar conceded. He paused for a moment, then added, "Will Perrif be rejoining us alone, or…?"

"Pelinal will be accompanying her," Telepe answered. He paused for a few moments, grinning as he intentionally let the tension linger, until Dynar glowered at him, and then he added, "As will Morihaus. She claims that he's still badly wounded, but well enough to move. He can at least issue orders to the army, even if he's unable to fight right now."

Dynar gazed at him silently for a moment, then murmured, "I suppose that makes two of you then, doesn't it?"

"Mm," Telepe agreed grimly. While his own wounds were healing cleanly, ever since the battle for the bridge had ended, Telepe's fatigue had reached its limit. He found that he could no longer cast spells, and even lifting a sword was tiring for him. While Tari and Moralasil had been applying steady doses of potions and spells, they were having less and less effect. Occasionally, he found himself drifting off into waking dreams, only to be snapped back to the real world when his eyes began to close and Meridia's searing light forced him to awaken. Moralasil remarked that it was astounding that he was still walking at this point, and he honestly did not know how much longer they could stave off the effects of Meridia's curse. That, however, was something Telepe tried to avoid thinking about.

"In any case, I'm pleased to hear that Morihaus is recovering," Dynar sighed. He glanced at Vanua again, eyeing the growing cracks in its walls. "I suppose that it won't be long before this city falls anyways. Truly, our Nordic allies make a mockery of sieges. I pray we never make enemies of them."

Telepe nodded, glancing past the city to the bridge behind it. "Come to think of it, you said that bridge can withstand Shouting," he pointed out. "Why don't you and your kin simply reinforce your walls with the same wards?"

Dynar shook his head. "The magic used to construct that bridge has been lost. It dates back centuries, when our ancestors first settled in Cyrod… and before we spent our time constantly warring with each other." He let out a bitter chuckle. "I wonder if the secrets of that magic were lost because of our wars, come to think of it. Perhaps the inventor of those spells was slain before he could pass the knowledge along, or perhaps the spells were jealously guarded by a single tribe that refused to divulge their secrets." A faint, melancholy smile spread across his face. "I cannot help but wonder what else was lost due to our constant warring with one another."

"Well… perhaps once this war ends, we can set about rediscovering all the knowledge that has been lost," Telepe suggested. "It would be of great value to all of Cyrod, I'm sure."

"I'd appreciate that, actually," Dynar replied. "I've often feared that this war might spell the end for my people. It would be good to know that we're working to preserve our legacy for once, rather than destroying it in petty wars."

"Then I'd be glad to help you however I can," Telepe replied warmly.

Dynar flashed him a grin, and then the pair stood in silence for a while, watching as the walls of Vanua shuddered under the force of another Tongue's Shout. Then, a few minutes later, someone came running across the bridge, drawing their attention away from the siege.

"They come!" the young girl shouted, waving her arms as her bare feet left deep imprints in the wet mud. "Our lady and her guardians come!"

Telepe and Dynar traded looks, and then they turned and hurried up the riverbank as quickly as they could towards the bridge. Already, a crowd was gathering to watch a trio of distant figures crossing the bridge. As they drew closer, wild cheers began to fill the air, greeting the return of Perrif, Pelinal, and Morihaus.

Perrif smiled and held her hands up as the people reached out for her, clamoring for her attention. Only when a cadre of thirty or so hoplites managed to break through the crowd and gently but firmly ward them off with her shields was she given some space. Pelinal stalked behind her with his weapons sheathed and his arms folded, scowling at the men and women as they reached for him as well. His glare was enough to ward them off, though that didn't stop them from gaping at him with looks of awe and wonder. Morihaus followed them at a somewhat slower pace. His wounds were bound tightly in linen wraps, though thankfully, it didn't seem as though any of them were bloodied. He also walked with a noticeable limp, and his wings hung low off of his shoulders, nearly dragging on the ground. However, while he was obviously still in a great deal of pain, it was also clear that Zuathas had done an excellent job tending his wounds, and Telepe presumed that they would not have returned so soon if they weren't certain that he would soon make a full recovery.

When the crowd finally parted to let Perrif pass, she gazed around at the camp that had been set up just outside of Vanua. Her eyes drifted past the tents towards the distant city, lingering on the walls, which were already on the verge of crumbling under the Nords' sustained assault. She then turned back to her warriors with a warm smile.

"I must confess that I am surprised," she remarked, gazing around at her followers. "I had expected that you would remain on the other side of the bridge and await our return. To think that you would take the bridge in our absence and even go so far as to besiege Vanua."

"You have Telepe to thank for that," Dynar piped up. Telepe turned to shoot him a glare as his face flushed red, but the prince grinned at him unrepentantly. "He organized us and personally led the assault that took the bridge."

"Truly?" Perrif asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, well, it's not as though Umaril was going to wait for Morihaus to rest and recover," Telepe muttered, looking away as his cheeks continued to burn. "And we must still reach the Staff of Magnus before the week ends. It was clear that we still needed to cross the bridge-"

"And so he rallied us, took command of the army, and routed the Ayleid army," Dynar finished. Telepe glared at him out of the corner of his eye as he grinned. "He's being frustratingly modest. He united us just when the army was about to fracture and convinced man and mer to fight together for the sake of Cyrod's future."

Perrif gazed at Telepe with a mysterious smile, folding her hands in front of her. "Is that so?" she murmured. "It would seem that you indeed found a way to walk between the paths of man and mer, wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps so," Telepe said softly, not meeting her eyes. Before he could change the subject, however, Pelinal suddenly stalked forward and stopped short a few inches from Telepe's face. Telepe blinked, then frowned as the knight's bright blue eyes bored into his own.

"That elf-prince claims that you commanded the army," Pelinal growled. "Did you command it from the rear, or did you lead the charge that took the bridge?"

Telepe's cheeks turned an even brighter red, but the knight's challenging tone made his neck burn with irritation. "If you must know, I fought in the front ranks, alongside the men," he stated indignantly, before looking away as his eyes began to burn.

Pelinal glared at him for a few moments longer, then growled in a low voice, "There is much about you that I despise, Manmer. You embody the worst traits of the elves. You are deceptive, arrogant, irreverent, and impious. You favor trickery over honor, and given the chance, you always avoid drawing your blade." Pelinal let those accusations hang in the air for a long moment, then sighed slowly and begrudgingly added, "However… I shall admit, for all your faults… you are no coward. Let no man say otherwise."

Telepe blinked, stunned by Pelinal's words, as he suddenly turned on his heel and stomped away. He knew that was likely the closest he would ever come to receiving a compliment from the surly knight. Perrif likewise watched him with a look of amazement, shaking her head faintly and smiling to herself. A few moments later, a deep grunt caught Telepe's attention, and he turned back around to see Morihaus trudging towards him.

"You did well, serving as this army's general in the interim, emissary," Morihaus rumbled. "However, I have returned, and I believe that I am fit enough to resume my duties. Will you relinquish command to me?"

Telepe let out a slow sigh of relief, then chuckled softly. "Gladly, General," he replied, inclining his head deferentially.

Morihaus snorted with approval and laid a heavy hand on Telepe's shoulder. He then turned to the nearest officers. "Very good. Centurions, assemble the men. I wish to take note of how many warriors we've lost, and what changes must be made." He glanced towards Vanua, then added, "We'll let the Nords maintain the siege for now."

"Hopefully, they're close to capitulating," Telepe added, before reaching into his belt pouch and withdrawing a scroll, which he held out for Perrif to take while avoiding her gaze. "I drafted terms in anticipation of their surrender. Please feel free to make any changes you feel are necessary."

Perrif gave Telepe an impressed look, then favored him with a soft smile as she took the scroll from him and briefly browsed its contents. A few moments later, she gave him a satisfied nod as she rolled it back up again. "This is excellent," she replied softly. "You've done extremely well in our absence."

"Only because it was necessary," Telepe replied softly. "If it wasn't me, then I'm certain someone else would have."

Perrif chuckled and shook her head. "Yet no one else did. And I doubt anyone else could have done better." She paused, then reached out and took hold of his shoulders. "Thank you. Allow me to reward you for all that you've done. I shall grant you a boon. If there is anything you desire, simply name it, and if it's within my power to grant it, I shall."

Telepe's eyes widened in surprise. "That's unnecessary-!" he began.

Perrif shook her head. "I insist. You needn't name your reward now, but if you desire something in the future, I would be happy to grant it to you."

Telepe gaped at her, then closed his mouth and nodded faintly. "I… shall consider it," he murmured.

"Please do," Perrif smiled, before turning to gaze at Vanua. "Now then… on to the task at hand. Have you spoken with their king yet?" she added, looking over her shoulder at Telepe once more.

Telepe shook his head. "They've refused all attempts at negotiation. Curiously, they seem to think we're furious about the fact that they've killed over a thousand of our men and impeded our progress. Odd, isn't it?" he asked sarcastically.

"Quite perplexing, yes," Perrif chuckled, folding her arms over her chest. "Very well. We shall give them one more day to consider our offer of negotiation. In the meantime, our Nordic friends are doing a better job of relaying our demand an audience than we could. Wouldn't you say?" she asked blithely as another Shout slammed against the walls of Vanua, deepening the cracks spreading along their smooth surface.

---

"I must say, their defiance astounds me," Perrif commented. "They must realize that if it comes to a battle now, they cannot hope to win. Their city is in ruins."

Telepe, who had been laying in the grass beside her, resting as best he could without falling asleep, lifted his head up with a soft grunt and turned his gaze towards Vanua. The city was in very poor condition. The eastern wall was little more than a pile of boulders and loose stones, and the southern wall had been rendered so brittle that the Ayleids had abandoned it altogether to take up positions at the safer western wall. Even so, despite the fact that they had been bombarded with Shouts for over a day and a half, the city still stubbornly refused to surrender.

"I wish that they would recognize that I am willing to offer them generous terms if they simply lay down their arms," Perrif continued, glancing briefly down at Telepe before looking up again. "There's no need for them to fight to the last man."

Telepe laid his head back down again, pillowing it with his hands as he squinted up at the cloudy, early morning sky. "In truth, I'm not surprised," he remarked sleepily. Perrif glanced down at him again with a curious look, and he quickly explained, "Consider this siege from their perspective. They have clearly allied themselves with Umaril, the ultimate enemy of the rebellion. They also slew over a thousand of our men in our last battle, and they were prepared to offer us no quarter if they emerged victorious. Why, then, should they assume that we would do the same?"

"We've shown mercy to other kingdoms," Perrif pointed out.

"We have," Telepe agreed. "But this is the heartland of Cyrod. Most of the war has been fought many miles from here, against scattered, independent kingdoms who have fragile alliances with each other, at best. This is an area that is carefully controlled by Umaril, who has every reason to maintain his alliances with the nearby kingdoms. Do you truly believe that he would allow stories of our mercy and generosity to reach these cities if he could prevent it? I've no doubt that know every tale of our savagery and brutality – particularly where Whitestrake was involved – while hearing nothing of our magnanimity when our enemies capitulate." He smiled faintly to himself. "I imagine that they consider our requests to negotiate to be a trap. They likely believe that if they stepped outside their walls, we'd immediately slaughter them."

"Yet if they continue to maintain this stubborn defense, we shall be forced to, regardless," Perrif pointed out.

"Undoubtedly," Telepe agreed. "But if they're to die anyways, better to die fighting than to be slaughtered like cattle. Besides, the longer they can delay us, the more time Umaril has to rescue them. At least, that's the hope that they're likely clinging to, even if no aid is coming." He sighed softly and tilted his head back again, wishing that he could close his eyes for more than an instant. "I also fear that we shall continue to encounter this sort of resistance when we face the other heartland kingdoms. Much as I hate to say it, I suspect that our diplomatic options will be limited."

Perrif gazed at Telepe quietly for a long moment, with Telepe carefully avoiding her gaze so that he didn't aggravate his curse. Finally, she sighed sadly and nodded. "You're likely correct," she murmured. "Much as I wish it weren't so." She then tilted her head. "You seem remarkably calm about this, though. I would have expected you to be more insistent that we continue to attempt negotiations with these kingdoms."

"Of course, I feel that we should," Telepe admitted, glancing briefly over at Perrif before looking up at the sky again. "However, I've also accepted that there are times when we simply cannot. To that end, if we must fight a battle, then so be it." He paused, then smiled bitterly. "Perhaps I've become more cynical as this war has progressed." Before he could continue, a sudden yawn interrupted him, and he winced and shook his head to dispel the wave of weariness that washed over him. "Or perhaps I'm simply tired," he murmured softly.

Perrif gave him a sympathetic look as she settled onto the grass next to him. They were not alone, as eight of her finest warriors were accompanying her as her personal guards. However, there was little they could do but watch as the Nords assaulted the Ayleids' walls with their Shouts, so they were resting while they had the opportunity. The pair of them were silent for several long moments, the almost peaceful stillness only broken by another one of the Tongues Shouting at the wall. It wasn't until a shadow fell over them that they both looked up. Telepe smiled slightly to himself as he saw his student, Sevri, holding a thin scroll out to her.

"A courier just arrived, carrying this message," he announced.

"Good. I was wondering when Vanua would finally come to their senses," Perrif smiled, taking the papyrus from him.

"Ah… the messenger wasn't from Vanua, my lady," Sevri said. Perrif paused and looked up at him curiously. "They came from the road. What's more, the courier claims that the message is not addressed to you, but to Tari."

Telepe and Perrif traded glances, and then Perrif asked Sevri, "Would you be so kind as to fetch her? If this is a message for her, she should be the one to read it."

Sevri bowed and hurried off, leaving Telepe and Perrif to stare curiously at the sealed scroll in her hand. When Sevri returned with Tari, she had an equally confused look on her face.

"Are you certain this is for me?" Tari asked skeptically.

Perrif held the scroll out to her. "None of us have opened it, and we won't know until you do."

Tari hesitated, staring warily at the papyrus, as though it might jump up and bite her. However, she finally reached out and took it from Perrif, then slowly broke the seal. She began reading, but frowned after a few moments and looked up.

"Telepe, could you help me?" she asked softly.

Telepe smiled faintly to himself, then groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. He shook his head to dispel his momentary light-headedness, then slipped around behind his lover to peer at the letter over her shoulder. As he did, he read aloud:

To my dear apprentice,

I am uncertain if you even possess the skill necessary to read this message, but if not, I am certain that you are clever enough to find someone who can. It has been some time since we last saw one another – not since I granted you your freedom. Thus, allow me to first extend my greetings.

It seems that since we last parted, you have been quite active. I had expected you to escape from Cyrod as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you yet lingered in the realm. What's more, I have heard tales that you were studying magic! I had not realized that you possessed the talent for it, else I would have nurtured it personally.

Alas, I must also express my disapproval and disappointment. Upon hearing that you had joined the rebellion, I was, at first, certain that the one who informed me was mistaken. I was confident that I had raised you with both greater respect and greater sense than that. Sadly, as the weeks passed and I received more reports of a similar nature, I was eventually forced to conclude that you had indeed betrayed me.

It has also come to my attention that you seek a powerful artifact – the Staff of Magnus. I might almost commend you for seeking to improve yourself, were it not for the fact that I am certain that you intend to use it for misguided purposes. If you seek the Staff to aid this foolish rebellion, then I beg you to reconsider.

However, if you truly wish to claim the Staff, I shall grant you the opportunity. Since you know when and where it shall appear, please venture to its location. I assure you that you shall be escorted, unharmed, to the grove where the Staff is supposed to manifest. Once there, you shall be given one final opportunity to relinquish your claim upon it and abandon this foolish endeavor. If you do so, you have my word that you will not be harmed. However, your rebellion must no longer seek to obtain the Staff.

If, however, you cannot be dissuaded, then I shall be forced to challenge you to a duel for its possession. The Staff is said to serve only the most powerful mage of the generation, and I am willing to prove my worth in the name of the Ayleid Empire. If you are likewise willing to serve as this rebellion's champion of magic, then I shall demonstrate why the Staff belongs in the hands of those who are still loyal to our homeland.

If you attempt to take the Staff by any other means, such as by attacking the isle with an army, then know that I shall be accompanied by nearly a dozen powerful mages who can summon an army of Daedra at a moment's notice. Only we know the entrance to this secluded isle, and even if you find it, the location is highly defensible. You may indeed slay the defenders of our isle, but you will not reach the Staff before I can claim it. Only by agreeing to my terms shall you even be granted a chance to claim the Staff for yourself.

Know that I admire your achievements, as a mother takes pride in watching her child grow. However, I do hope that you are not foolish enough to bare your teeth at me, and that if we meet once again, we do so as allies, rather than enemies. After all, dear child, you know better than anyone how dangerous it is to anger me.

-Arcanalata

When Telepe finished reading the message, he saw that the blood had drained out of Tari's face. Her small body was shaking slightly with rage as she held the scroll, and he could tell that she was barely restraining herself from tearing the papyrus to shreds.

"This… makes little sense," Telepe said, glancing briefly at Perrif before looking back down at the letter. "If she knows where the Staff is, and she's already made preparations to repel an army, why bother with this farce? Why waste her time challenging Tari to a duel when she could simply take the Staff?"

"Hubris," Tari snarled, finally looking up from the papyrus. Her pale green eyes were smoldering with anger. "Sheer hubris. I imagine that the fact that I, her former slave, have taken up arms against her is a personal slight against her, and she wishes to remind me of my place. She intends to demonstrate that no matter how much I've learned, I could never match her. If she truly wished to face our most powerful mage, she would challenge Moralasil, not I."

"She would risk possession of the Staff over something so foolish?" Telepe asked skeptically.

Tari motioned to the letter. "Look at the way she addressed me. She has the gall to refer to herself as my mother. She wrote to me in the same tone as one scolding a troublesome child who must be punished. She does not believe for one moment that I could defeat her. As such, she is confident about taunting me in this manner, because even if I were fool enough to accept, there is no possible chance that I could defeat her."

Telepe sighed lightly. "This is clearly a trap," he added, folding his arms over his chest with a frown. "As such, it would be in our best interest not to respond. Instead, we should prepare the army to-"

"Now, let's not be hasty," Perrif interjected suddenly. Telepe and Tari glanced over at her as she smiled serenely. "She believes that Tari cannot defeat her. That does not mean that her assumptions are correct." She turned her sparkling blue eyes on Tari. "Would you mind if we consulted someone who likely knows better than any of us?"

Tari shook her head, and Perrif quickly asked Sevri to retrieve someone else. Moments later, he returned, guiding Moralasil to where the small group was gathered. Sevri had evidently informed him of Arcanalata's challenge, as he asked Telepe to reread the message. When he finished, Moralasil nodded thoughtfully to himself.

"So, my former apprentice believes herself powerful enough to freely issue challenges over the fate of legendary artifacts, does she?" Moralasil asked, sounding amused. "Her arrogance was always her most fatal flaw."

"Then you believe that Tari could best her?" Perrif asked.

"Certainly," Moralasil said easily. Then he added, "Of course, I also believe that a fly could slay her if it flew into her mouth while she was sleeping and caused her to choke to death. One can never be certain of victory or defeat before the duel has actually occurred."

"Then what are Tari's chances of defeating her?" Telepe snapped irritably.

Moralasil turned his head in the direction of Telepe's voice, then said slowly, "I shall confess that Arcanalata might be the most talented pupil I have ever taught. She is a master of both alchemy and transmutation magic, and her elemental spells are terrifyingly powerful." He then smiled slightly and turned to Tari. "However, you have learned at an astonishingly swift pace, and while you lack Arcanalata's raw power, your thirst for knowledge itself far exceeds hers. It may be that you could best her, provided that you prepare yourself properly."

Telepe paused, then glanced over at Tari, who continued to stare silently at the scroll. "You've been rather quiet," he remarked gently, reaching out and running his fingers through her wild hair. "You're the one that she challenged. What do you think?" When still she didn't answer, he added, "If you're frightened of her…."

"Of course I am!" Tari snapped, finally looking up from the scroll. "Hardly anyone knows her power better than I." She sighed heavily. "This challenge… I don't suppose that we could offer another as our champion? Perhaps you, Master? Or Whitestrake?"

Telepe shook his head. "If she's called you out, then you are the only one who can answer her summons. Usually, she would allow you to select the location of the duel in exchange, but since we all know where the Staff will manifest, that choice is out of our hands, as it's likely that they would simply take the Staff anyways." He scowled as he glanced towards the distant White-Gold City, which could be faintly seen on the horizon from where they were. "They're challenging you while holding every possible advantage."

"And if we refuse, they'll claim the Staff as well," Tari added. She gripped her arms tightly around herself, then asked, "If we left now, how long would it take us to reach our destination?"

"According to our scouts, approximately six days on horseback," Perrif replied grimly. "And a few days longer if we took the entire army. The former would mean that we'd be forced to rely entirely upon our cavalry, which is likely insufficient to face whatever forces she's assembled to defend the island. In the latter case, we wouldn't reach her before the Staff appears."

"Then as mad as it sounds, it seems that our best option to retrieve the Staff is for me to accept her challenge," Tari said slowly.

Telepe tilted his head back slightly as he stared intently down at his lover. Her tone was resolved, but the way her knuckles turned white as she gripped her arms, and the way her shoulders heaved rapidly as she struggled for breath, belied how terrified she truly was.

"Do we have any other options?" Telepe asked. Tari turned to glare at him, and he added quickly, "I trust you! You're a very skilled mage in your own right, and I'm certain that you're clever enough to outwit her if she attempts to trick you. However, I don't like walking into such an obvious trap."

Tari shook her head. "We have no choice," she insisted in a much firmer tone. "This is our best, and perhaps only, opportunity to retrieve the Staff. Without it, the Elder Scroll claims we cannot win the war. If my former mistress is foolish enough to offer me a dagger and dare me to strike her down with it, then we cannot ignore this chance, even if it is a trap."

Perrif glanced back and forth between the pair, and then she walked over and put her hands on Tari's shoulders. "I admire your courage, and if you are truly resolved, then I shall not stop you from accepting her challenge, Tari," she said softly. "However, that does not mean that I shall stand idly by and allow you to do this without offering any aid that I can. How do you intend to prepare for this confrontation?"

Tari hesitated, then glanced over at Moralasil. "Master… is there anything more that you can teach me, that I might use to defeat Arcanalata?"

Moralasil considered her silently for a few moments. "Had you any talent for sensory magic, I would spend what little time we have teaching you to Silence her," he remarked slowly. "If she cannot cast, she cannot fight. Sadly, that is not an option. Nevertheless, I might be able to teach you one or two powerful spells that you might find useful. I shall travel with you to the site of this duel and teach you along the way, but we shall have less than a week for you to master them. As such… are you prepared for the most grueling training session of your life?"

"I am," Tari said firmly. She then turned to Perrif. "I shall also require a list of ingredients. I will not face my former mistress with magic alone, but with every possible tool that I have available. All that she has taught me, and all that I have learned since, I shall turn upon her."

Perrif's eyes brightened with delight. "Then we shall provide anything you need," she said firmly. "I shall also see to it that you are escorted by our finest knights. You will not fall to treachery or deceit if I can prevent it."

Tari nodded gratefully. "Then there's just one thing more," she said. She turned to Telepe. "Will you accompany me as well?"

Telepe blinked down at her. "I… of course I won't decline. I'll be at your side whenever you ask," he said quickly. "However, you know that I won't be of much use. I still cannot cast spells, nor even use a blade…."

Tari shook her head. "That does not matter," she said softly, stepping closer and taking his hands in hers. "I don't need you to fight on my behalf. I simply need you there with me. Nothing makes me feel safer or more confident than having you near. That is all I ask of you."

Telepe smiled faintly. "If you're certain," he said softly.

"I have never been so certain of anything," Tari stated emphatically. "Given the choice, I would have you by my side forever."

Telepe's heart leapt at her words, and he found himself grinning down at her. He glanced past her, turning his gaze towards the Paravant. "Perrif," he said slowly. "You said that you would grant me any boon, if it was within your power, yes?"

Perrif tilted her head curiously at his sudden question. "I did. Have you decided what you desire?" she asked.

Telepe nodded, turning back to Tari. "If you would, and if Tari agrees… would you wed us?"

Both women's eyes widened with shock. Then Tari suddenly pushed against his chest. "Now?!" she cried. "Before I must go off to duel my former mistress-!"

"Not now!" Telepe laughed, backing away from her and holding his hands up to ward her off as she swatted at him, half-angrily, half-joyfully. "Time is short, and you deserve a proper ceremony!" Before she could playfully swipe at him again, he caught her hands and pulled her to him. "But when this war is over, if you would still have me, then I wish for nothing more than to wed you. I love you, Tari, and I wish to be with you as well. What's more, if the promise of a life with you is waiting for us when this war ends… well, I would certainly fight all the harder to ensure that future comes to pass."

Tari tried to push against him again, but the way she was beaming up at him belied her apparent anger. "You-!" she snarled, before sighing and resting her forehead against his chest. "Of course I would have you, you fool!" she muttered into his tunic. "You're my liberator, my companion, and my closest friend. Who else would I want to spend my days with?" She sighed, then slowly looked up at him and nodded, her grin widening. "It's an oath then. Once this war is over, you shall have me as your bride."

Telepe grinned back at her and pulled her up onto her toes. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss, and he could feel her small but strong fingers digging into the fabric of his tunic. When they broke apart, however, Tari again playfully pushed against his chest. The sound of laughter off to their left interrupted them, and they glanced over to see Perrif watching them with an amused smile.

"How lovely," she murmured, folding her hands in front of her. "To answer your question, Telepe, it would be my honor to wed you two. Whenever you two feel you are ready, simply ask, and I shall join you together in whatever manner you wish." She tilted her head back, gazing at the sky for a moment, and then she added, "In the meantime, perhaps I can provide a different sort of blessing."

Telepe and Tari traded glances as she stepped closer and put her hands on their shoulders. "Divines, hear your faithful servant," she said softly. "Bless and protect these two, who have suffered and bled in your name. Watch over them as they walk through life together, and see that in death, their souls shall once again find each other in Aetherius."

Telepe gave Tari a slight, awkward grin as Perrif stepped away, which she responded to in kind. He didn't know if the gods could fulfill Perrif's request, or if they even cared, but for a brief instant, he thought he felt a slight tingle run down his spine.

"Now then," Perrif continued, her smile fading. "Your foe awaits, Tari, and time is short. Gather what supplies you need, and I shall see to it that our finest men accompany you. I shall be praying for you victory, and your safety. The gods will be watching over you. Telepe," she added, pinning him with a pointed look. "Watch over her as well." A moment later, her stern glare melted into a smile. "After all, I'm rather looking forward to wedding you two."

Telepe chuckled sheepishly as Tari gave him another scowl before sweeping off to gather her equipment. He simply grinned after her as he walked in the opposite direction to retrieve Emero, his sheer joy enough to momentarily dispel his constant weariness.

---

By noon, a contingent of over one hundred knights set off along the highway at as swift a pace as they could manage without tiring their horses. Telepe was pleased to see that Pasare was guiding them, and that one of their companions was Reili, who spent much of the first day of travel grinning infuriatingly at the pair of them. Telepe guessed that Reili had already heard of his and Tari's promise to wed once the war ended. He chose not to rise to the knight's bait.

Because the entire party was on horseback – Pasare included, to her mild annoyance – they made excellent time. They had no fears about using the highway, even this close to the heart of Umaril's territory. Their party was large enough and well-armed enough that Ayleid patrols wouldn't dare harass them, and they were swift enough that if they encountered a larger army, they could simply flee. Thus, they spent most of the day openly traveling along the road before finally pulling off into the jungle to rest for the evening.

Unfortunately for Telepe, the journey was extremely difficult, at least for him. Even riding was taking a toll on his waning stamina, and by nightfall, he could hardly keep his balance on Emero's back. When they made camp for the night, he practically fell off the horse, and he watched the soldiers pitching their tents with open envy. He could feel Tari's pitying gaze on his back, but they said nothing to each other. They both knew how close he was to succumbing to the curse, and in truth, at this point, he was only keeping himself awake out of sheer will and spite towards Meridia. He was determined not to surrender to her curse, no matter how exhausted he became. Even if it killed him.

Despite his tortuous weariness, the trip itself was surprisingly pleasant. It was not quite summer, and the air was warm, but not unpleasantly so. Telepe also found that he rather enjoyed staying up through the night, playing dice with the guards and sharing stories. He was becoming rather creative with his tale-telling, and the guards listened raptly as he shared some of the myths and legends of Malabal. Most of the protagonists were Altmer, naturally, but there were one or two tales of a clever Nede or Manmer whose deeds allowed them to wed the most beautiful of their fellow Nedes, or even become the concubine of an elven prince or princess, even if they couldn't marry. Naturally, those stories were the most warmly received by the Nedic warriors.

Tari and Moralasil, meanwhile, mostly kept to themselves. They spent much of the journey crouched in the back of one of the wagons, and the flashes of magic soon became so frequent that even the wariest of their men learned to ignore them. Finally, when he heard Tari swear to herself for the sixth time in one day, he asked what they were studying,

"One of the most difficult spells for a transmuter to master," Moralasil replied, lowering his hands for a moment and turning his head in Telepe's direction. "It is a spell that completely paralyzes its victim, rendering them helpless. Arcanalata is a powerful mage, but she over-relies on her magic. If Tari intends to duel her, the best way to defeat her is to simply render her unable to cast magic at all, and to slay her while she is helpless. Unfortunately, as I've said, Tari has little talent for sensory magic, else I would have taught her the Silencing spell. As such, paralysis is the only viable substitute. However, this spell is far more difficult to learn than Silencing, and it is very taxing on the user's magicka. Since we have little time, I am trying to teach her the simplest variant, which requires her to lay her hands on Arcanalata, rather than casting it as a bolt from afar. Even then, it will only last a few moments. If Tari intends to use it, she must be clever about applying it, and swift enough to make use of it. And since we have little time, I would ask that you not distract us any further." Telepe nodded and fell silent once more after that.

Whenever she wasn't practicing magic, Tari was either gathering ingredients in the jungle once they had made camp, or preparing them on the road in the back of the wagon. Telepe was as curious about what she was making as he was about her magical studies, but the dark expression on her face while mixing the ingredients warned him not to ask. He could only surmise that she was preparing her deadliest, most potent poisons, and that he was better off not knowing what they were.

For four days, their journey was mercifully uneventful. They traveled swiftly along the road by day, and camped in the jungle by night. It only rained once during that period, and it was only a light shower that lasted less than an hour, though it did make the road muddy. Even then, however, their progress was not especially slowed, and by morning of the fifth day of travel, they had almost reached their destination.

Through the translucent, prismatic barrier that Meridia had erected, they could see a small island in the middle of Lake Rumare, a little ways off the coast of the mainland. As they prowled along the road, however, it quickly became evident that there was no way for them to reach it. Of course, no one was foolish enough to try to forcibly breach the barrier of light, but there were no gaps in the shield, and Telepe eventually began to wonder if Arcanalata had indeed summoned them simply to ambush them, without any intention of facing Tari in a fair duel.

It was Pasare who first spotted the white-robed figure approaching them on the highway. When she pointed the elf out, the knights instinctively reached for their weapons, but upon seeing this, the elf held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Peace," he entreated them softly, before folding his hands inside the sleeves of his robe. "Unless, of course, you don't wish to be guided to the island. I can assure you, you'll be hard-pressed to find the entrance to it without my aid, and Lady Arcanalata will not take kindly to you slaying one of her apprentices."

"No… she intends to do that herself," Tari growled as she climbed out of the wagon and began striding towards the young elf. Telepe immediately noticed that she was dressed in her leather armor, and her belt pouch was bulging with the potions and poisons that she had been brewing over the last week.

The elf sneered at her. "Well, it is a master's duty to put down a rabid dog when it bares its teeth at its owner," he retorted snidely.

"Hold your tongue and lead me to Arcanalata, or you'll learn just how sharp my teeth are," Tari snapped in return.

"Of course," the young mer replied in an oily tone. He then sneered and added, "But you must leave your escort here."

"As you wish," Tari agreed immediately. Then she pointed at Telepe. "But he comes with me."

"No one can accompany you," the elf insisted.

"Yet Arcanalata is allowed to bring her apprentices?" Tari retorted. "Besides, this is a duel. A duel requires a herald to officiate. That is the role he shall fulfill." She then narrowed her eyes and added, "Unless your mistress is confident that she can dispatch one foe, but fears two?"

The apprentice stared at Telepe for a long moment, taking note of his sagging posture and the dark bags under eyes. At last, he chortled and shrugged. "I don't know if my mistress will agree, but if you insist," he relented, before smirking. "He seems half a corpse already anyways, so I doubt he could do much harm."

Telepe didn't even have the energy to glare in reply. Tari, meanwhile, inclined her head. "Very good. The rest of you, please remain here until we return." She turned back to the elf, who was chuckling at the implication that she would return, and she added, "Lead the way."

The elf smirked, then turned and led them off the road, guiding them through the jungle for a short distance. There, hidden amidst a cluster of thick palm trees and ferns, was a small, hidden cave. The yawning maw glistened with moisture, and it was so dark that Telepe couldn't see more than a few inches past the entrance. Thankfully, the elf held his hand up and whispered a few words, and a moment later, a pale green light sprang to life in his palm.

"Follow me," he said, before turning and disappearing into the cave. Tari reached out and took Telepe's hand, then conjured her own flame before following the elf. Telepe gripped her fingers firmly with his left hand while keeping his right on the hilt of his sword. He knew that he could barely use the weapon right now, but holding it helped to calm him.

The mer guided them through a long series of twisting passageways, but the path was fairly easy to follow in spite of how winding it was. A few minutes later, they reemerged into the sunlight, and Telepe winced as his eyes adjusted to the midday sun. Blinking rapidly, he glanced around and quickly took stock of their surroundings.

The island was overgrown with trees of almost every variety imaginable – spry palm trees, drooping willows, heavy oaks, and supple maples, among many others. The trees were obviously carefully cultivated, free of weeds and the telltale marks of animals burrowing into their bark. In the center of the thick forest of trees was an open clearing, where seven other apprentices clad in white robes sat on their knees in a circle around a single, central figure, who was staring up at the sky with her arms folded. She was dressed in resplendent robes of bright red, trimmed with gold, and her fiery red hair was braided, with feathers and magical beads hanging off the loose strands. When she heard the movement behind her, she turned towards Telepe and Tari, wearing a smug, imperious smirk.

"Ah… you've returned to me at long last," Arcanalata said in a silky voice, opening her arms in greeting. "Welcome, child. It's been too long since we last saw each other."

"It hasn't been long enough," Tari growled. She was half-crouched in an aggressive stance, gripping the hilt of her knife tightly. "I would have preferred to never see your face again."

Arcanalata tutted with disappointment. "Such harsh words for your beloved mistress," she sighed.

"Beloved?!" Tari scoffed incredulously.

"Of course. After all, I raised you like a daughter," Arcanalata said. Telepe noted that she sounded genuinely surprised by Tari's hostility.

"Your daughter?! What sort of mother keeps her daughter in a freezing, damp pen at night?!" Tari cried. "What sort of mother feeds her child the scraps from her plate and tells her to drink from pools of cave water?! What sort of mother beats her daughter for failing at the smallest tasks… or simply for her own amusement?!"

Arcanalata's smile faded. "Know your place! You were mine to do with as I pleased, slave!" she spat viciously. "And no matter how I raised you, I did teach you alchemy. You learned at my feet, and you should be grateful for the lessons I taught you!"

"You trained me to act as your dog! To fetch you ingredients that you couldn't be bothered to collect yourself, or that were so poisonous that you would rather I handle them!" Tari shot back. "Then, after spending hours alone in the woods, collecting deadly ingredients and avoiding dangerous beasts and hostile slavers from other kingdoms, you force-fed me the very drugs and poisons you were creating, to test their effects! You watched as I writhed and screamed in pain, begging for mercy! You only gave me the antidotes when I was on the brink of death! You say that I should show you gratitude for teaching me alchemy?! You never trained me! All that I learned of alchemy, I learned by watching you like a rat from the corner of the pens, praying that you would not turn your gaze upon me! I learned, because if I failed to collect or properly prepare the ingredients for you, I would be tortured! I would not have survived otherwise! I was forced to learn the craft, and the only reason I did not die by your hand was because I had a talent for it!" She narrowed her eyes. "Have you told these new pupils of yours about the other three 'apprentices' who failed you? I have seen them. Their bones still rest at the bottom of the caves beneath Ceya-Tar." She cast a quick glance around at the novices, who didn't respond, and then she turned back to Arcanalata. "I have no gratitude to spare for you, 'mistress.' The kindest thing you ever did was to release me, and even then, my thanks is reserved for Telepe, not you."

Arcanalata lazily glanced past her at Telepe, who was standing a few feet behind her with his arms folded over his chest. "Ah, yes. I vaguely recall your face. The merchant, correct?" she drawled. "I'm surprised that you've lingered here in Cyrod. I would have expected you to return to your barbaric homeland immediately."

"I intended to," Telepe replied conversationally, not rising to Arcanalata's bait. "But it seems the fates had other plans."

"Evidently," Arcanalata smirked. "I see that Umaril's mistress has seen fit to grace you with her mark. Tell me, how does her blessing feel?"

"I've survived," Telepe replied blithely, shrugging.

"Thus far," Arcanalata smirked. "And not for much longer, I suspect. But not today, perhaps, and at least not by my hand. I did not summon you here to fight."

"Truly? Yes, issuing a challenge for a duel suggests nothing but peaceful intentions," Telepe replied sarcastically.

Tari glanced at him, then turned back to her former mistress. "If you did not intend to duel for possession of the Staff, then why are we here?" she demanded.

"Because we needn't be enemies, child," Arcanalata replied simply. She folded her hands in front of her. "I invite you to rejoin me. You have been an errant, unruly child, but I am willing to forgive your transgressions." Tari's mouth fell open in outraged disbelief, but Arcanalata continued, "You are young, and you seek greatness, to leave your mark on the world. I do not begrudge that. I was once much the same. Certainly, rebelling against your masters is a grave sin, but I understand your rationale. I even admire it in a way. And you have impressed me. If the tales about you are correct, you have learned a great deal about magic, which I did not realize was even possible for a Nede. It is a talent that should be nurtured and developed. So, I offer you a choice, child. Surrender now, return to my side, and I shall overlook your rash rebellion. What's more, I shall once more make you my apprentice and teach you secrets of magic that you could not have dreamt of."

Tari glared at her former mistress, the muscles in her jaw tightening. "You would enslave me once more," she snarled.

"You would be allowed to live," Arcanalata countered calmly. "Which is far kinder than what Umaril would do with you. Know this, Tari – you cannot win. You cannot best me, and your rebellion cannot defeat Umaril. Your successes thus far are nothing more than a fleeting illusion. With the Staff of Magnus in hand, the tide of this war will turn. Know that I shall claim it. I am offering you one chance to repent for your crimes and return to your rightful place at my side."

"At your feet, you mean," Tari spat defiantly. "No. I now know what it is to be free, Arcanalata, and I would rather die than surrender my freedom." She tilted her head up slightly, a confident smirk spreading across her lips. "And I don't fear you. For all your power, you're a coward." Arcanalata's smug smirk faded, her eyes narrowing with fury. "If you truly wished to test yourself, to face the most powerful mage in Cyrod, you would have challenged our master, Moralasil. You did not, because you fear that you will be defeated. You doubt that you are stronger than him. That's why you summoned me. You believe that you can best me and claim the Staff for your own, and then you can claim that you defeated the strongest mage in the rebellion." Tari's smirk widened a bit more. "Even so, you won't defeat me, mistress. The Staff shall not be yours."

Arcanalata silently glared at Tari. Rage seemed to visibly radiate from her as she stared furiously at her defiant former slave. After a few moments, however, her gaze turned upward, fixating on a point above Tari's head. Tari and Telepe both turned to see what she was looking at.

Masser and Secunda, the twin moons of Nirn, were faint but visible in the bright blue, midday sky, hovering a few degrees north of the sun. As they watched, Secunda slowly slid behind the larger red moon, which seemed to glow just a bit brighter as its smaller sibling hid behind it. When the small white moon disappeared completely, the sun seemed to flare for a moment, and then a thin ray of sunlight stretched from the star and reached towards the ground. The beam of light struck the center of the clearing, and as they watched, a radiant gold and ivory staff materialized in front of them. The smooth shaft was carved with intricate, runic designs, while the head split and branched upwards like a sapling, clutching a solid blue-green stone that looked like an opaque Welkynd Stone. The staff hovered in midair, seemingly held aloft by the ray of light, and Telepe could hear it humming faintly with magical power.

Arcanalata stared at the Staff silently for a long moment, an almost reverent look in her eyes. Then, slowly, she turned back to her apprentice, cold fury once more hardening her features. "It seems that you do indeed have the gift of prophecy, girl," she remarked, sounding almost envious. "Had you not read the Elder Scroll, we would never have been made aware of the Staff's manifestation. Of course, we would have found it in time, but you aided us greatly. As thanks, I shall extend my offer to you one final time – lay down your arms and return to my side. I have already shown a great deal of tolerance and patience for your defiance, and I shall not show such leniency again. Refuse, and we will be enemies."

"We already are, Arcanalata," Tari replied without hesitation, narrowing her eyes. She then glanced at the Staff over her mistress' shoulder. "You challenged me to a duel for the Staff. I've come to answer that challenge. If you wish to back down, say so, and I'll gladly take my prize."

Arcanalata's closed her eyes and sighed with exasperation. "A pity. But if a dog turns its teeth on its master, it must be slain." She then turned to Telepe. "You there! Half-breed!" she barked. "She claimed that you would serve as our herald, yes? Come. Announce the terms of this duel and let's be done with it."

Telepe hesitated, glancing at Tari, but when she nodded at him firmly, he reluctantly inclined his head in reply. "Very well," he said, stepping between the two women. "This duel shall be for possession of the Staff of Magnus. All who bear witness to this duel shall abide by the victor's right to the prize, and none shall interfere. Do you so swear?"

"We swear," Arcanalata's apprentices replied as one. Telepe cringed as their voices echoed unsettlingly around him in unison.

"Do the duelists have a preference for when a victor shall be declared?" Telepe asked.

"To the death," Tari and Arcanalata answered simultaneously. Telepe glanced uneasily between the two women as they continued to glare at each with such intensity that he was surprised they weren't setting each other aflame with their stares alone.

"Very well. As such, you are free to use whatever tools and spells you wish to achieve victory… save the Staff itself," Telepe added quickly. "Are there any dissentions?"

"None," the two women answered immediately.

Telepe swallowed, casting a last, quick glance at Tari as his stomach turned nervously. Tari's pale green eyes flickered towards him, and she nodded firmly. He sighed to himself, then slowly backed away as he held his hand up. "Then let the duel… begin!"

Tari immediately held her hand up and shouted, "Molag!" A small ball of flame erupted from her hand, which Arcanalata effortlessly leaned out of the way of. She immediately held her own hand out and echoed, "Molag!" Immediately, she conjured a much larger fireball, which hurtled towards Tari like a boulder thrown from a catapult. Tari threw herself to the ground and winced as it singed the air above her head, narrowly missing her. The ball of flame slammed into a tree, where it exploded, bathing the trees in fire. The magical flames died out a moment later, but the trees that it had struck were left blackened and stripped of their leaves. Tari stared over her shoulder at the destruction the spell had wrought, her eyes wide.

"Foolish girl," Arcanalata chuckled, snapping her fingers and conjuring another ball of flame. "How long have you been studying magic? A few months at most? I have over a century of experience." She threw another massive ball of flame at Tari, which also narrowly missed her and scorched more trees behind her. "I did warn you," she added smugly.

Tari exhaled sharply as she gripped the earth tightly between her fingers. She used it as a brace to launch herself at Arcanalata, and as she charged her mistress, she drew her knife. The elven mage tried to cast another spell, but before she could, Tari dove beneath her arms and slashed at her belly. Arcanalata managed to sway out of the way and kick reflexively at Tari, but Tari dodged the weak attack. As the elf stumbled back and began chanting, Tari opened her pouch and pulled out a bottle. She then whispered a spell, and flame enveloped the clay bottle. As Arcanalata continued to chant, Tari threw the bottle at her feet. The clay broke into shards, and a bright green mist enveloped Arcanalata.

Telepe wasn't certain what Tari had done, but he suspected the mist was some sort of poison. He could barely see Arcanalata through the thick, acrid smoke, but he did notice that she was holding her loose robes over her face. As she backed away, Tari conjured another small gout of flame, which she threw at the billowing smoke. The mist erupted into a firestorm, and Telepe threw his hands over his eyes to shield them from the sudden flash. When he lowered his hand, he saw that Arcanalata was standing in the midst of the roiling flames, unharmed, with one hand raised, projecting a shimmering blue shield of magicka from it.

"Fire-Serpent Mist, was it?" Arcanalata asked as slipped her free hand into her own belt-pouch, unstoppering a bottle of her own. "One of the last poisons I ever taught you. Toxic and flammable. A fair attempt," she remarked, before raising the bottle to her lips and pouring its contents down her throat. She shuddered for a moment, then tossed the empty clay container onto the grass. "Fortunately, I have antidotes for any poison you might have brewed," she sneered. "After all, I taught you every recipe you know."

"Then it's fortunate I've been experimenting, isn't it?" Tari replied with a snarl. While Arcanalata was busy curing herself of Tari's poison, Tari had been dipping her dagger into another bottle of sickly yellow liquid, which she now stuffed back into her pouch. "Nor does it matter if you can cure yourself, if I slay you before you do."

Tari suddenly darted towards Arcanalata, trying to close the gap between them. As she did, the elven mage held up her hands, and a thick cloud of icy mist erupted from her palms. She directed the spell towards the grass, which froze instantly, and as Tari darted forward, her feet slipped on the glass-like shards of grass. She cried out in pain as she crashed into the ground, only barely turning her dagger to avoid cutting herself on it.

As she groaned and tried to push herself up, Arcanalata snarled and chanted a few words. Electricity crackled in her hands, and Telepe's heart stopped as she unleashed a torrent of lightning down on Tari. He could only watch helplessly as the lightning washed over her, his breath coming in short gasps as Tari was surrounded in the storm. When Arcanalata stopped a few seconds later, he felt his throat tighten. Tari was lying still on the ground, her body coated in blackened ash. Arcanalata smirked and stepped towards her, but as she did, Tari suddenly pushed herself up and lunged at her with her dagger. Her slash missed, though it did open a gash in Arcanalata's robe. The elven mage cursed as Tari rose to her feet and crouched low, holding her knife in a reverse grip. It was then that Telepe realized, to his relief, that what he had thought was ash was actually a thin layer of stone. She had apparently managed to protect herself with her stone-skin spell an instant before Arcanalata had rained lightning down on her.

Before Arcanalata could cast another spell, Tari darted towards her, and when she got close, she again swung her knife in a short, tight arc. The blade again narrowly missed slicing Arcanalata's flesh, and she was forced to backpedal as Tari continued to press her. Each time the elf tried to open her mouth, Tari slashed at her again, breaking her concentration and forcing her to continue backing away, so she couldn't cast a single spell. It was wise of Tari to press her attack, Telepe mused. Arcanalata was clearly the superior mage, but that did not necessarily mean that she was the superior combatant. Arcanalata had been studying magic for over a century, but it was likely almost always in a calm, scholarly setting. If she had fought in any battles, she was likely kept in the rear of the formations, where she could cast spells in relative safety. Tari, on the other hand, had been fighting alongside the rebellion for months, and while she wasn't a front line hoplite, she was a veteran of at least as many battles as Telepe was, and she was used to fighting in melees and skirmishes. As such, while Arcanalata had studied far more magic than her former apprentice, Tari was the more experienced fighter.

Suddenly, Tari twisted her knife and stabbed it downward into Arcanalata's arm. The Ayleid woman cried out in pain as blood ran down her arm in thin red streams, dripping from her fingers. She hissed as she kicked at Tari again, and this time her foot connected. It didn't do any apparent damage to Tari's hard outer shell, but it did make her stagger back a couple of steps. This gave Arcanalata enough time to finally shout a couple of words. Telepe watched in shock as her own body was coated in a thin layer of a dark grey metal – iron, he suspected. Tari growled to herself and darted in to slash at her again, but the bronze blade of her knife scraped harmlessly off of Arcanalata's metallic skin. Smirking, the elven woman grabbed Tari's arm and used it to push her away, then stepped back a few paces and pulled another potion from her belt pouch.

"You fight like a savage," she remarked as she uncorked the bottle and poured its contents down her throat – likely another antidote to Tari's poison, Telepe surmised. "I thought you claimed to be a mage."

"We were told we may fight however we wish," Tari countered as her stone-skin spell faded. "But if you wish for me to fight like a mage…!"

She suddenly lunged at Arcanalata again, slashing at her once more. As Arcanalata swayed backwards, however, Tari suddenly crouched low and whispered a few words. Her left hand suddenly glowed pink, and she reached for Arcanalata's leg. Her mistress' eyes widened, and reflexively she kicked again, this time catching Tari in the jaw. Tari cried out in pain and rolled away, clutching her face, while Arcanalata stared at her with wild eyes.

"…Paralaysis?" she whispered, sounding half-impressed, half-terrified. "Well now, it seems you've been taught a rather nasty trick, haven't you? I must say, it's remarkable that you learned that spell at all. Few have the power to cast it." A slow smirk spread across her face, however, as she drew herself up. "But you failed in your one chance to cast it upon me, my dear. Now that I know what to expect, you shan't have another opportunity. And I trust that you're feeling rather weary after that attempt, yes?" she added. Tari lowered her hand from her face, panting heavily as she pushed herself shakily to her feet. Arcanalata grinned viciously. "As I thought. Well then. If that's your plan… it's simply a matter of not allowing you to succeed, isn't it?"

Arcanalata raised her hands again, whispering a chant to herself, as Tari groaned and finished climbing to her feet, holding her knife in front of her in a reverse grip. The two women stared at each other for a few moments, waiting to see if the other would make the first move. Then, abruptly, Arcanalata turned and began fleeing into the jungle.

Tari hesitated, staring after the retreating elf with a dumbfounded expression. Telepe, likewise, felt his mouth unconsciously fall open in surprise. A few moments later, however, they collected themselves and took off after her, with Arcanalata's apprentices following at their heels.

Arcanalata led them through the jungle, occasionally throwing a gout of flame at the trees to set them alight. Within a few minutes, the air was thick with smoke and flame, and Telepe was forced to hold his cloak over his nose and mouth to avoid breathing in the acrid fumes. Tari seemed almost unfazed, however, as she pursued her mistress as closely as possible, not allowing herself to be singed by the blaze, nor let her mistress to escape. At last, they emerged from the trees onto a small beach. Telepe fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air, his eyes watering. His vision swam as exhaustion welled up inside of him, but he shook his head stubbornly to clear his blurring vision. When he finally looked up again, he saw Arcanalata standing on the surface of the water, smirking at Tari.

"Come, girl. If you can," she taunted. Telepe scowled as she held her hands up and began chanting another spell. He wondered if Arcanalata was banking on the fact that Tari did not know the water-walking spell, which meant she could not pursue her mistress, allowing her free reign to cast spells at will.

Unfortunately for her, however, Tari muttered to herself, then sprinted forward. Her bare feet splashed off the surface of the water as she charged towards her mistress, her teeth bared. However, Arcanalata simply grinned as Tari neared her.

"I'm pleased that you did not disappoint me," she said. She then stepped backwards… up into the air, as though she was ascending a staircase into the sky. Tari hesitated, skidding to a stop on the surface of the water, as Arcanalata backed away from her, hovering about ten feet in the air. Then she grinned and held up her hands, which were crackling with lightning, and with a triumphant cry, released the lightning bolts at Tari.

At the last second, Tari once again managed to cast a stone-skin spell, coating her body in a protective layer of rock. However, as Arcanalata unleashed her spell, the bolts of lightning arced around her, striking the water and electrifying it. Telepe felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as Tari screamed in pain, her body seizing up. Her body twitched and jerked on the surface of the water as Arcanalata laughed sadistically, pouring more power into the spell. Telepe could only watch, horrified, and wonder why her stone-skin spell wasn't protecting her. Was the water amplifying the power of the spell, rendering Tari's protective coating useless? Had the soles of her feet perhaps been left exposed by her water-walking spell? Regardless of the reason, he could only watch in despair as Tari spasmed and let out frenzied, agonized screams that made Telepe's chest ache.

Arcanalata held the spell for several seconds longer, a malicious grin on her face, until finally, Tari fell silent and pitched forward, plunging into the choppy waters of the lake with a heavy splash. Telepe cried out as her stony body sank beneath the surface of the water. Arcanalata, however, didn't seem satisfied with her victory. Either out of an abundance of caution, or out of sheer malicious glee, she continued casting spells at the spot where Tari's body had disappeared beneath the waves. Her lightning arced over the surface of the water, her flames boiled large patches of the lake into steam, and then she sent ten-foot-long spears of ice plunging into the water.

After nearly ten minutes, she finally stopped, panting with exertion, and stared into the dark blue depths of the lake. Tari had not resurfaced. Arcanalata continued to watch the water warily for a few moments longer, not daring to come closer, apparently out of fear that Tari might be lurking underwater like a shark, waiting for her to descend. Finally, however, she seemed satisfied, whereupon she turned and began walking back towards the shoreline, still levitating a few feet above the surface of the water.

Telepe glared icily at the elven mage as she approached the beach, wearing a victorious smirk. "I must confess… she fought harder than I had expected her to," she said breathlessly, stopping a few feet short of Telepe, her feet finally touching the sand. "I shall be taking my prize now." She paused for a moment, considering, then added, "You shall be permitted to leave, emissary. After all, you've lost your woman, and you've already been cursed by Meridia. I daresay you've suffered enough."

"Mistress!" one of her apprentices exclaimed, but Arcanalata held up her hand and shook her head, pinning the apprentice with a cold look.

"Do not dispute my decision, child," she growled. "Let none say I am not merciful." The apprentice tried to speak again, but Arcanalata narrowed her eyes venomously, silencing them. Another apprentice opened her mouth as well, but another glare from Arcanalata silenced them as well.

"Come now," Telepe snarled, folding his arms over his chest. "That's not why you're allowing me to leave."

Arcanalata smirked viciously at him. "You're a bright one, aren't you?" she asked sardonically. "Go, and tell your rebellion that they have failed. Their greatest mage is dead, and they shall never lay their hands on the Staff of Magnus."

Telepe stubbornly kept his gaze on the elven sorceress. "I shall not," he replied defiantly.

Arcanalata's grin broadened. "Is the loss of your woman too painful for you to accept?" she taunted.

Telepe simply smirked in reply. Arcanalata's smile melted into a frown of confusion. Then, she suddenly stiffened, her eyes widening in shock, as a pink ripple of magicka ran over her body. He could see the confusion and terror blossom in her eyes as a voice replied from behind her, "No. It's because I have not been defeated."

Tari stepped around from behind her, dripping wet and still covered in her stone-skin spell. There was also a pinkish-purple dome of magicka over her nose and mouth – a water-breathing spell that had allowed her to remain beneath the surface of the lake for the last several minutes. She had remained deep beneath the waves, allowing the water to protect her from Arcanalata's barrage of spells. When, at last, Arcanalata had decided that she was victorious, Tari had stalked her underwater, watching her movements carefully, before resurfacing behind her. Both Telepe and Arcanalata's apprentices had seen her, and the latter had even tried to warn her. Fittingly, in her pride, Arcanlata had refused to listen.

With Arcanalata paralyzed, Tari moved quickly. She stepped in front of her, and as her stone-skin and water-breathing spells faded, she pulled one last bottle from her pouch and uncorked it. She then forced Arcanalata's mouth open and poured the contents of the bottle down her throat. As the paralysis spell faded, Arcanalata choked and held her throat, her eyes widening with terror.

"What did you-?!" she demanded. Then, a moment later, her pupils dilated, and her body began to go limp. "N-no…." she whimpered. "No, not this…!"

"You already know what this is, don't you, 'mistress?'" Tari asked flatly as she carefully re-corked the bottle. "You should be very familiar with this poison. It's one of your favorites. Vaermina's Tears, you named it, when you first showed it to me. When you tied me to that stone slab. When you forced it down my throat." Tari began to slowly walk around the elf as she sank to her knees, her jaw going slack and her eyes widening. "You were fascinated by its effects. It traps the victim in a waking nightmare, subjecting them to visions of unspeakable torment and terror. You ordered me to describe every hallucination, every vivid torture that my mind could conjure."

Arcanalata suddenly clutched the sides of her head and let out an ear-splitting scream that made Telepe wince with pain. His heart hammered at the shriek of utter terror, and he saw a shiver run through Tari's body as she watched her mistress curl into herself. "You used to feed me this poison once every few months," Tari continued coldly. "Each time, the visions became stronger, more terrifying, more vivid. You kept trying to improve the formula – concentrating the ingredients, mixing it with other poisons… whatever you felt might make it more potent." A grim smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "And you never concocted an antidote. You insisted upon letting it run its course every time. You claimed that it was to study its effects, but I know that you delighted in my screams, my sobbing, the way that I begged you for death. This poison still lingers in my body, too. Even now, from time to time, I still suffer from night terrors that would make Vaermina herself weep."

Tari leaned closer, staring into Arcanalata's eyes as tears ran down her face and her fingernails dug into her cheeks, opening bright red lines on her bronze skin. "I told you before that all that I learned from you, I learned by simply watching. I paid special attention to this poison. You made me gather the ingredients. You even asked me to prepare them once or twice, though I know you thought that I didn't know what I was making. I suspect you found it amusing, forcing me to craft the instrument of my own torture, like a prisoner being forced to sharpen the axe for the executioner."

A faint smile spread across Tari's lips. "And for that, I suppose I should indeed thank you. Without you, I would not have become a skilled alchemist. I would have had nothing to offer the rebellion, and my lover likely would have died by now." Tari reached down and took Arcanalata's face in her hands. "So, I shall show you my gratitude. While you would have me suffer through these visions, I shall grant you mercy."

With that, Tari suddenly grabbed her former mistress by her arm. Arcanalata screamed and flailed in her grasp, but it was clear from the way she was jerking her head around wildly that she was simply reacting to some horrific vision. Telepe doubted she even knew where she was anymore. Tari dragged her to the surface of the water, then pushed her beneath the surface. One of the apprentices cried out and lunged for Tari, but another one held her back and shook his head, whispering something in her ear, which seemed to calm her down. Everyone watched silently as Tari held Arcanalata under the water until she stopped thrashing and no more bubbles rose to the surface. Telepe felt his stomach roiling as Tari slowly pushed herself up and cast a final cold look at Arcanalata's still body, then unceremoniously pushed herself up and stepped away.

She abruptly turned around and strode back into the center of the island, followed by Telepe and the other apprentices. He could see her panting with exhaustion, and tears were running down her face, but her expression was resolute. When she reached the clearing, she walked up to the Staff and reached into the ray of light. When her hand closed around the shaft, the sunlight faded, and she slowly pulled it against her body, staring down at it with a blank expression for several long moments.

"It is a pity that your mistress could not see reason," she said at last, turning to the apprentices. "Now, if you'll let us pass-"

Suddenly, the apprentices raised their hands and shouted incantations. Tari's eyes widened, and she rolled behind a nearby tree just as their spells flew towards her. Flames licked the thick trunk she was hiding behind, and bolts of ice and lightning flew harmlessly past where she had been just a moment ago. She peeked out from behind the tree, then ducked behind it again as another fireball flew past her face.

"Dishonorable cowards!" Telepe snapped furiously. He put his hand on his sword, but froze as the apprentices turned on him instead. He shot a quick glance at Tari, who was watching him, wide-eyed. He could tell from her helpless expression that she was utterly spent from duel with Arcanalata. Neither of them had enough magic to even light a candle.

"We swore that we would not interfere in your duel," one of the apprentices sneered. "We never said that we would allow you to leave here alive." He turned to smirk at Tari. "It does not matter that you claimed the staff. You cannot defeat all of us. Once we've killed you, we'll take the staff for ourselves. Then we'll simply revive our mistress and present it to its rightful owner. She'll be sure to reward us handsomely."

"Revive her?!" Telepe exclaimed, glancing at the body still floating in the water. "She hasn't been injured! She's dead!"

"Fool. There are magics that can even restore life to the dead," another one of the apprentices stated.

Telepe's mouth slowly fell open. "You're necromancers," he whispered.

"Come now, we're not simply necromancers," said yet another apprentice. "Arcanalata encouraged us to study every scrap of magic we could."

"Including necromancy," Telepe repeated.

"Including necromancy," the apprentice confirmed with a smirk.

Telepe stared at them for a long moment. Then, suddenly, an idea dawned on him. He didn't know if it would work, but if it did…. He began to chuckle, his laughter slowly rising in pitch until he was cackling with delight. The apprentices stared at him, baffled, and he could tell that they thought he had gone mad.

"Thank you," Telepe whispered. Then he turned and gaze up at the rainbow-colored orb hovering above the White-Gold City. "Meridia!" he shouted as loudly as he could, before pointing at the apprentices. "Your enemies stand before me! In your name, I beseech you… slay them all!"

Portals of pure white light, rimmed with rainbow colors, suddenly appeared around the apprentices, and Meridia's silent, golden-armored Daedra emerged from them, clutching glowing bronze axes. They descended upon the terrified apprentices, who screamed in terror as the Daedra fell upon them. Some tried to run, while others began to summon their own Dremora to fight off the golden-armored beings, but more of Meridia's Daedra poured through the portals, appearing in the dozens, scores, and more, relentlessly pursuing the foes that Telepe had marked for death.

A wave of utter exhaustion crashed over Telepe as he felt the burning behind his eyes finally cool, and blissful darkness threatened to wash over him. Before he collapsed, however, Tari caught him by his chest and pushed him up. "Come!" she insisted. Telepe heard her voice echoing faintly in his ears, and when she tugged his arm, he stumbled after her, barely able to keep himself upright.

As more of the golden Daedra poured out of the portals, they hurried into the sub-aquatic caves connecting the island to the mainland. Telepe was barely aware of where they were, and he relied almost entirely on Tari to keep him standing, to the point that she was half-dragging him through the damp caverns, even as exhausted as she was.

"Come, just a bit further!" Tari insisted as Telepe nearly fell to the ground. She grunted and hunched under his weight. "I cannot carry you, and if we stop here, I fear those Daedra will turn on us next when they find us!" She paused, then added, "How did you summon them?!"

"I… didn't mean to," Telepe murmured, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it. All of his exhaustion from the past few weeks was pressing down on him at once. "All I did was invoke Meridia's curse. She… did not say that I must call upon her… to slay Perrif. She said to invoke her name… to slay her enemies." A sly, wearing grin spread across his face. "The only beings… she hates more than us rebels… are the undead… and those that would summon them. Necromancers."

Tari's eyes widened. "You made a fool of her!" she exclaimed with a grin. "Why did she not simply command you to slay Perrif?!"

"Arrogance, likely," Telepe mumbled. "The very thing… she cursed me for. Ironic, isn't it?"

Tari laughed and shook her head. "Brilliant," she whispered.

"No… you're far more incredible than I, love," Telepe murmured. "You bested… Umaril's most powerful mage… alone… and now you are… truly free… from Arcanalata." He smiled faintly. "This is your day. Congratulations on your victory, Tari. I'm proud… of you…."

Tari smiled weakly back at him as they rounded a corner, then she stopped as a voice shouted, "They're here! Come help me! Telepe looks injured, and Tari isn't much better!" Several sets of footsteps echoed around them, and then Telepe grunted as he suddenly felt a pair of much stronger hands hoisting him off of Tari's shoulder. He could hear more voices echoing indistinctly off of the hollow cave walls, but he couldn't discern any of them. With the curse lifted, the weeks of exhaustion that he had tried to stave off finally came crashing down on him all at once. Blessed darkness enveloped him entirely, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.