Challenges

Saber found the levitation spell nearly impossible to cast this time. He vigorously shook hands out to try once more. Numb fingers refused to form the intricate sigils in the air, and focusing his will became all the more difficult as angry thoughts and brutal urgings continued to distract him. He’d never relied on magic up until joining the Blades’ Guild, using only the skills he’d mastered as a thief in the jobs he took. Then again, he never dealt with wizards in Cyrodil. Certainly not mages that preferred towers with the only means to reach them was through flying.
Fighting the overwhelming urge to kill someone, the Dunmer drew in a shaky breath and centered thoughts again on the words and glyphs. This won’t beat me… I didn’t survive the streets of the Imperial City or any other obstacle…I’m not letting this beat me-
Feet lifted and Saber flew up through the tower to reach Divayth Fyr. The wizard stood in his study, patiently waiting for his arrival. Hands were folded in the deep blue robes, and a bit more attentive to his visitor this time. The mage knew the early stages of Corpus meant a volatile temper to match.
“Did you get the boots?” Divayth asked, “No boots…no potion.”
Saber tossed them at his feet, fighting a sudden desire to slice the self-righteous look off the wizards face. Nothing in the man’s expression showed sympathy that this potion could just as well kill him as save him. For all his warning to protect the other Corpus victims, he didn’t seem to care much how this potion would affect him now did he?
Not even bothering to pick up the boots, the wizard raised an inquisitive brow. “Come here then. I must observe how you react to the potion.“ He said, offering out the bottle he already had in his hand, as if he knew all along Saber had finished the task. Perhaps too, he was all too eager for a volunteer to try the elixir, regardless of how what consequences Saber would face.
Saber took the glass bottle, wary of some trick the wizard might be playing him but its not as though he had any choice now did he? Sniffing the contents, the thief grimaced. It was awful, whatever it was. It reminded him of something rancid. “What’s in it?”
The wizard laughed, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He said, waving hands to encourage to drink. “Come now, bottoms up. You must drink all of it.”
Bracing for the horrible taste, Saber threw the bottle back and gulped as fast as he could, fighting the urge to gag or spit out the foul liquid. For starters, it was slimy, reminding him of something off a slug, and the bitter taste mixed with sour, as if the potion had gone bad. He’s probably just trying to kill me…Saber considered, but at this point, he no longer cared. Better that than what waited for him in the Corprusarium. Better to be put out of my misery now.
A wave of …something…caused him to stagger. Saber fell against a bookshelf feeling the odd disorienting affects take hold. Whatever magic or power the potion held, gripped him and shook him to his core. Muscles twitched, dropping him to the floor, and the sensation of tiny fingers working over him made him thrash to fend them off. Of course, there was nothing to fight against as the potion did its work. He’s killing me…
Divayth Fyr stood without emotion, staring down at the fallen elf, watching with intense interest. “Remarkable.” He whispered.
Gasping, Saber found the sensation subsiding leaving him exhausted and spent on the floor. Staring up the wizard above him, the thief was palled the man crouched over him to pull back an eyelid for a better look.
“Amazing.” Sighed Divayth, “I think it worked. No sign of the disease at all. Of course, you still have Corprus disease, just like I planned. But all your symptoms are gone. Marvelous. I'll go try it out on some of the more desperate inmates. But I'll answer any questions you have before you go."
Saber managed to lurch to a sitting position, throwing the wizard’s hands off of him. “Get away from me.” He snarled.
Divayth was perplexed. “Hmm. Interesting. I thought the violent nature of the disease would have subsided-“
Saber glared, knowing this was his own justified anger and nothing of the Corpus disease. Oddly he felt normal now, only tired from the fit. “So I’m cured?”
The wizard nodded, obviously still ‘observing’ him.
“I thought the potion was to cure me, but you say I still have Corpus.” That was not part of the deal. Didn’t he say he even planned this?
“With all the powerful side effects to go with it.” Divayth nodded, as if Saber should already know this.
“What side affects?” Saber demanded, wanting to wring his neck.
“Well immunity for one.” The sorcerer told him, backing off to sit in a chair at a table. He began writing in a journal. No doubt his ‘findings’. “Those who have Corprus do not contract any other disease.”
“Immunity?” Saber remained sitting on the floor, trying to comprehend what he was being told. “To all diseases?”
“All of them.” Divayth nodded without even looking. “And of course, being you still have Corprus, you can’t very well contract that again now can you?”
The thief stared at a line of books near him, wondering what it was going to be like to never get sick again. No more Blight, or even a common cold. He never had to worry if he fought Corprus beasts either. “And what else?”
“What else?” Divayth raised brows, as if only then realizing the Dunmer was asking him something. “Oh yes, well you also have a certain level of eternal life.”
”What!?” To this Saber managed to drag himself off the floor, forcing himself to stand on legs gone weak. “Eternal Life?”
”Yes, barring from injuries, you will remain unchanged.” The wizard explained, still jotting down his notes. “So you can easily see a very long life-“
“Wait a minute-“ Saber stood over him on the table, “You’re telling me that just as long as I don’t get myself killed by say…a knife wound or something, I can just keep on living?”
“Barring from blade, falls, drowning, fire…that sort of thing.” Divayth nodded, a smile on his mouth. “You won’t see old age, but being Dunmer that was a long way off anyway. Just remember you’re not immortal. You are eternal. See the difference?”
“Anything else you care to tell me?” Saber asked sarcastically, not quite believing this was happening. What sort of cure was this anyway?
The magician sat back, startled by his question. “Anything else? My dear boy, did you expect more? I should think you’d be happy the potion worked.”
It worked…yes it did. Saber wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I won’t go mad will I?”
Divayth blinked in surprise. “Does your family have a disposition to psychosis?”
Saber frowned, “No.” Not that he knew of.
”Well then I wouldn’t worry about it.” The wizard returned to his note taking, scribbling in languages Saber had never seen before.
“And I’m not contagious…?”
The wizard shook his head, not looking up from his work. “You’re fine. Now, if you have no other questions, you can go.” His words were clipped, giving him his dismissal.
Feeling awkward, Saber retreated, making his way back downstairs and out of the wizards tower. Now he knew why so few hated dealing with the Televani. All were insane.

********************

Almost as soon as she turned down the street that led to the Council Club, Eiryn realized how clothes did indeed make the man, or woman in her case. People actually stepped aside out of difference, and nobles made courtesy nods or even smiled in her direction where otherwise she’d be almost nudged out of their way.
Maybe Saber’s words held more truth than she had even suspected…?
Upon reaching the Council Club, she set her bag of old clothes near the door, not even caring if someone stole her rags. She’d planned on replacing them in a few hours anyways. As she reached for the door handle, a well dressed Imperial gentlemen scrambled to reach the door first, in order to open and allow her entrance.
Smiling at him in her gratitude, Eiryn lifted her chin and held back the giggle at the audacity of the whole thing. This very man might just as well shove her out of his way if she wore her travel garb! And here he was literally tripping over himself to be the gentleman!
Once inside the club, she waited a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkened interior and wondered why she never stayed here instead of the Eight Plates. Already she knew the answer. Why pay the higher price of a bed, even if the bed was nicer, when the Eight Plates was more affordable? Still…maybe once or twice, it would be nice to have the cleaner sheets, and better services-
“My lady…” A Dunmer smiled at her near the door. His red gaze flittered over her attire, obviously admiring what he saw. This stunned Eiryn who remained aloof, knowing how very few Dunmer considered Bretons to be that appealing. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for someone.” She said pleasantly, having to ignore the gaze constantly falling down from her face. Then again, it occurred to her that such a dress as this might help in remaining rather…anonymous with men if they reacted this way. They weren’t looking at her face now where they? “A swordsman…”
The Dunmer bore an intricate facial tattoo that covered nearly half his face with a deep blue design. The lines traced the smooth forehead and high cheekbones, emphasizing the elven features along light ashen skin. His dark hair was cut rather short, marking him a Dark Elf that perhaps had always lived among the cities. Lips were thin, curling into a pleasant smile, and the blood red eyes blinked slowly as he clearly approved of the young lady before him.
“We get many swordsmen here, my lady.” He told her, remaining polite.
“But I hear this one is from Cyrodil.” She smiled, primping her hair and acting as though she were nothing more than some pampered lady interested in meeting with the legendary swordmaster.
“Ah, that one is downstairs. Having his mid day meal.” The man told her with a slight bow. “Shall I introduce you?”
His extended hand startled her. Was this how the upper class conducted themselves? Such foolery in just wanting to talk to another! Taking his hand,
Eiryn played along. “I would be delighted if you would.” She said, flashing a smile and fluttered lashes. “What did you say your name was, good sir?”
The Dark Elf was pleased she took interested in knowing him. “Vales, dear lady, Thanelen Vales. And your name?”
Eiryn smiled, knowing to not reveal her real name. “Joslin Sosia Acques of Vivec.” She said, giving her mother’s name, and making up her origins. A swordsman from Cyrodil would hardly know the truth of it, but he’d recognize the importance of the holy city of Vivec.
She knew by this Dunmer’s name alone, he was seriously no one of importance other than a smith that appealed to the nobles’ with his work. He charged a bit more with the promise of higher quality, yet Eiryn had also heard from good sources, he was neither better nor worse than any of the smiths in town. Playing the fool, she nodded kindly, having him lead her downstairs into the Council Club to meet this stranger.
She wasn’t sure what she expected to see, being this was a ‘swordsman’, one who followed a profession by earning his living with skills with a sword. Perhaps someone bigger, wearing a full suit of armor, or even boasting a massive sword for all to see, but instead, she was introduce to a man older than she assumed, with aging wrinkles about his eyes and further creased upon seeing her and trying to get a better look at her. Hair dropped to his shoulders in uninterrupted silver, with a white beard trimmed along his jawline. Dark brows hung over eyes that belied the age, still bright and fierce. Even aged as he was, Eiryn could see he was a handsome man, one might consider pleasant to speak to over a cup of wine and share tales of his bravery. But her job was clear, and she gave her most charming smiles.
Vales gave him a polite bow. “Muthsera, I present Joslin Sosia Acques of Vivec who wishes to speak to you. I hope we have not disturbed your mid day meal?”
“For company as lovely as this, I will starve for days.” The man smiled with his Imperial accent, he motioned Eiryn could be seated at his table. So formal this seemed just to speak to one another, she thought.
Valas held her chair as she took her seat across from the gentleman. “I present Merthisan Kendari, sword master and paladin from the Imperial City of Cyrodil.”
Eiryn found it took all her composure upon hearing that name to not fall over from shock. Kendari? Not the Merthisan Kendari? He was a famous swordmaster known as being one of best warriors known in all of Tamriel. Why in the Nine Divines was he in Morrowind, looking for Saber of all people? Keeping her composure, she forced a smile to hide her shock.
“I’ve come because I’ve heard you are none other than Merthisan Kendari, the master swordsman in from the Imperial City.” She flattered him, extending her hand for him to clasp. Could he even guess her shock she tried to hide?
He gently touched her hand, even daring to kiss the knuckles with a slight brush of his lips and tickle of his mustache. “Dear lady, I am he. What would you have of me?” Perhaps he assumed she needed someone to fight, rescue or otherwise do hero-like things, but Eiryn had other things in mind.
“I’m afraid my interest is only for my own amusement, Muthsera.” She smiled, playing her role as fawning female. His reaction was standard, and the eyes were guarded. “I was told of a man who’s legendary, and of course my curiosity has gotten the better of me.”
”Oh?” His dark brows rose up in his own curiosity. The eyes were a vivid blue, clear as a sunny day’s sky, the pupils intense and lashes dark.
“Why would someone as famous and as skilled as you would come to our fair land of Morrowind.” She flashed a smile, “Unless you’ve come to find adventure. This land certainly provides enough opportunity to test one skills.”
His eyes narrowed a bit, as the icy gaze seemed to appraise the woman before him. “Do you approach all foreigners with questions such as this, or am I so fortunate to be the only one favored by your attention?”
His adulation felt insincere to her, or Eiryn considered she simply wasn’t used to being flattered such as this. “I’m curious by my very nature.” She remained vague. “But if I meet someone from another land, and I’m told they are of some reputation, then yes, I would certainly ask them all manner of questions.”
Which wasn’t a lie. But how many famed sword fighters had she actually met?
He picked up his goblet to sip the expensive wine. “I’m actually looking for someone.” He admitted to her. “Another foreigner from the Imperial City. Perhaps you’ve met this man?”
“Perhaps if you were describe him?” She offered.
“He’s a Dark Elf, young, known to be quite personable. He’s taller than most Dark Elves, long black hair, red eyes.” He told her, and his gaze seemed to watch her carefully. “Goes by the name of Saber, or perhaps Feryl, or Feratis?”
Eiryn remembered the name Feryl, and pretended to frown in thought. “Those names do not ring a bell. We have many Dark Elves here in Morrowind. If you are seeking a Dark Elf in the land of the Dunmer, I’m afraid your quest will be a long one.”
The man leaned forward, twining hands to press them again his chin. Elbows rested on the table and he seemed to consider his words carefully. “This is no ordinary elf, however.” He explained, carrying such certainty he would be found easily enough among thousands. “If you met him, you’d remember him.”
“Is he that impressive?” She laughed lightly, maintaining an air for being flirty and innocent. “And why would a legendary swordsman such as yourself be seeking this Dark Elf? Is he an old rival?” She lowered her voice dramatic. “Is he dangerous?”
The man paused a moment, casting her another suspicious look. “Oh he’s dangerous enough.” The voice was edgy, as he motioned to a serving man to fill her glass with some of the delicate wine. “Are you certain you’ve not heard of him? He’s come from the Imperial prison, a thief. I was told he’d come to Balmora.”
“A thief? Is he an escaped prisoner? Why would he come to Balmora?”
Merthisan sipped more wine. “To find someone named Caius I’m told. I suppose if I find this man Caius, then I can find Feryl.” He was speaking more to himself now than to her, voicing a plan that had only taken shape. “Do you know of such a man?”
“The only Caius I know of is Caius Cosades…he’s a ‘sugar tooth’ on the west side of the city.” She sniffed in distain, being sure to look disgusted. “Is this Feryl a user? Perhaps that is why he seeks this Caius fellow?”
The swordsman frowned, ignoring her questions. “Its important that I find him.”
Before speaking, Eiryn noticed the man grew very still, watching her carefully. This was the face of someone who suspected something was up. Those were intelligent eyes that peered a sharp gaze at her. Perhaps he was seeing through her ruse, but she’d continue to play until he called her on it. “And again, I ask, why you would seek this man? Perhaps if you told me, I could give you an idea of where he would travel to next.”
“Your hands…” The man said with an ironic smile on his thin-lipped mouth, “are very calloused for a noble lady.”
Cursing her stupidity for not wearing gloves Eiryn primped and folding her hands delicately on the table. “Not my best feature, I know. Did I say I was noble?” She’d let him guess now, for she never introduced with a title to him. He had only assumed by her gown she might be of some aristocracy.
“Are you?”
“And what does it matter if I am or am not?” She retorted
“Appearing as being something that you are not, makes me very suspicious.” He pointed out, tapping fingers to indicate his own growing annoyance at the game she played. “Who sent you?”
“Sent me?” She pretended to be affronted.
“You are not the first person to wonder why I seek this man out.” He explained as if it were obvious.
She folded arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. “A well-known and very skilled swordsman comes to Morrowind seeking a Dark Elf indicates you might be hunting him, that he might be dangerous. Its a perfectly natural question one might ask, since this Dunmer might very well be an assassin, or some mad man. -“
”And you are trying to protect him?” He asked, the face tense as he realized her facade.
“Just curious as to why you would go through so much effort.” She shrugged. “If he’s a thief, have you asked one of the city guards? Perhaps if you were to share your concern for this man with them, they might be able to keep an eye out for him. So why then do you seek him out? To kill him?”
The man cast an unblinking stare as he measured his options. “Do you know where he is or not?”
Eiryn sucked in a breath to reply but then held her breath. She wanted to deny knowing anything about him, to work on provoking the man to admit his motives in finding Saber, but something prevented her. Instincts she came to rely upon told her the man may not trust her, would refuse to reveal anything if she continued as she was.
Unsure if Caius would approve, she relaxed, and gave a brief nod. “I have heard of him. I might know where he is.” She finally said.
The man tensed, the hands gripped the edge of the table. “Where is he?” Merthisan looked too eager for her reply.
“Not until you tell me why you’re looking for him.” Eiryn persisted. If anything else, she was going to find out that. Even if this man were to seek out the thief to kill him, it had occurred to her, that death was certainly preferable than the horrible life that corpus offered him. Nonetheless, she would give this man nothing if he didn’t give her an answer.
“Is he a prisoner?” Merthisan asked.
She pressed lips together to indicate he’d get nothing from her.
The warrior gritted teeth, wiping the beaded sweat off his forehead in agitation. “At least tell me this; are you a friend of his? Do you try to protect him?” The urgency in the man’s voice indicated a true concern, not a wish to kill the Dark Elf.
“I would not see him harmed.” Eiryn admitted, knowing it was more than that. She would save Saber if she could. Her answer seemed to satisfy him as he eased his stiff posture, sitting back in his chair.
“We are old friends, Feryl and I.” He told her. “I only seek him out for reasons of his safety.”
Eiryn wasn’t sure, he could be just as well lying to her. “He never mentioned you.” She said. Saber didn’t mention anyone in his life, but she’d only known for a short time, and he seemed reluctant to speak much of his past. But why wouldn’t he say something of knowing one of the greatest swordsman in all of Tamriel? Briefly Saber’s words echoing in her memory. “Do you think I wear this sword for show?” He had been trained by a swordmaster. Eiryn knitted brows together in thought. “And safety from what?”
“Someone else is also looking for him.” Merthisan lowered his voice. “I’ve come to warn him.”
“An old enemy?”
Merthisan nodded slowly. “I’m not certain if Feryl would want others to know of him. I told you all I can.”
“How do I know its not you who seek him harm?”
He flinched, suddenly slamming his hand down on the table making silverware and his glass to rattle. “Because I am Merthisan Kendari, and not known to arbitrarily go around killing people for the fun of it!” he snapped.
And whoever this man sought out the Dark Elf had…
Eiryn was stunned by the eruption, but now had no doubts of the mans’ sincerity. Caius needed to know about this, perhaps even meet with Merthisan. “I cannot tell you.” She found herself saying, lifting her hand up to silence him before another outburst. “I will in time, but I need to touch base with some connections I have.”
“Who are you..?” Merthisan’s eyes narrowed, the head turning slightly. “What are you?”
She gave a soft smile. “A friend.”

*******************
“Merthisan Kendari!? Master swordsman Kendari? You cannot be serious!” Caius had to sit down from shock. He was already unsettled seeing the exquisite gown his daughter wore, making her appear completely different than the woman he spoke to that morning. Then he discovers not only did she find out who this stranger was, but that it was none other than the world’s best swordsman. His reputation was well known for being on the side of justice, often serving his skills to fight the wicked, save the poor- And he was friends with Saber? “How in Oblivion does he know Saber?”
“I think you should tell him about Saber…that he’s in Tel Fyr.” She said, having her own theories of this swordsman. Saber was elusive, but had mentioned being formally trained. Why did he not boast it being none other than Merthisan Kendari? “Merthisan could be an ally-“
Her father nodded, not listening as other thoughts came to mind. “Did Kendari mention who this old enemy was?”
“No, he wouldn’t say. Which is why I think you should speak to him directly.”
“Whatever for?” Caius asked, curious to why his daughter would suggest such a thing.
“Because having the worlds greatest swordsman as one of the Blades…” She smiled, emphasizing the word Blades. “We could do worse.”
Ah, yes. The girl was quick, wasn’t she? The reputation of the man was certainly honorable enough, and he’d keep a secret if nothing else. Why such a hero would know someone like Saber was a mystery however. Perhaps Kendari would explain more if he joined them?
“Set up a meeting then. Let me do all the explaining.” Caius the spymaster told her. “We’ll see if he’d like to join the Emperor’s eyes and ears.”