Challenges

Eiryn focused her mind once again on the ancient words, and the precise movements of her hands as she drew glyphs in the air before her. She knew Marayn Dren watched her every move, and would say nothing if she did something wrong. He preferred to have his students learn the hard way, often letting them feel the sting of magic gone wrong, and then hinting at where they might have erred after the fact. It was at the very least an effective method to not do the same mistake twice. Such training, however, didn’t seem quite as effective to Eiryn.
She was trying to master a simple levitation spell, and only managed an inch or two off the ground before dropping back to the floor. Unsure to how exactly she was doing wrong, she tried again and again, each time painfully reminded that magic wasn’t exactly her best skill. Marayn hinted at what could be the cause of her failure, but the young scout found herself muddled in frustration to figure out the answer.
This was the tenth attempt at the spell, and after this, she’d have to wait until the next day before building up her mana enough to try again. Her stomach swooned as the spell worked, her feet slowly lifting off the ground. Eiryn clenched teeth, and was glad she did. Dropped suddenly, her feet crumpled beneath her, and she was soon sprawled at Mararyn’s feet.
His face pinched in disappointment. “Can you tell me what you did wrong?”
Looking up from her prone position, Eiryn huffed in aggravation, blowing hair out of her eyes. The Dunmer mage was stoic above her, hands folded in the sleeves of his robes. The grim faced man kept his thin lips pressed into a fine line, trying to hide his frustration with her.
Marayn Dren, like many Dark Elves, had the dark gray-ash hue of his race. Red eyes adjusted to the dim light of the mage’s guildhall, and Eiryn found the facial scarring and tattoos he bore disquieting. It seemed odd that a mage would carry tribal markings, but the man was reputed to be over 100 years old. In his younger days, he might have been a tribal warrior, or perhaps all Dunmer wore such things. His hair, black as a raven’s wing, was tied back from his face and gathered near the nape of his neck. A dark blue robe shrouded him like a cloud, with wands tucked into the belt, and the flash of rings on hands showed off his proficiency with enchantments.
Before she could reply, someone else spoke then, a voice she immediately recognized from the slight Imperial accent.
“Lack of focus, I should think.” Saber said. “Or too much doubt in one’s abilities.”
He’d seen the whole thing, she groaned inwardly, and looked over to see the Dark Elf leaning casually in the doorway, with ankles crossed and a playful smirk on his face. His hair was tied back in a single braid, with some loose tendrils falling over his eyes that twinkled in amusement. He wore the same light leathers of black and dark blues, even bearing his sword on his back as if he’d just come back from Suran.
He clucked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “A mage’s true power is the will, but also that of confidence.” His smile returned, and refocused on the mage standing over her. “Muthsera Dren. Its good to see you again.”
Marayn nodded grimly, unimpressed by the younger Dunmer. “I’m heartened you remember what I taught you.” He said, helping Eiryn back to her feet. “Even if you did use your magic only for mischief.”
“How was I to know that Sharn had no sense of humor?” Saber was trying hard to not laugh.
“She’s an Orc, isn’t she?” Marayn pointed out with a scowl. “You’re lucky she didn’t turn you into a rat.”
Saber finally broke into laughter, “Of that I have no doubt. Turned into a rat, then eaten head first.” He winked at Eiryn. “Besides, Muthsera Dren, as I recall that was the first time I ever saw you laugh.”
Eiryn chuckled at the thought herself. Orcs were often considered barbaric, though many were also educated and could be counted on well enough in battle. Sharn ra-Muzgob was one of the few mage Orcs within the guild, rumored to be dabbling in necromancy, though no one could prove it, and her lack of humor was well known.
Marayn only grunted softly as he chose to ignore the glib remark, and replaced his hands into the folds of his dark blue robe. “Is there any reason why you’re here, Feryl?” Marayn asked, clearly wishing the thief to find something to do…outside of the guildhall. Eiryn frowned, wondering about the name Feryl…
“I’m actually here to see Eiryn.” Saber grinned, turning his attention to the young Breton. “I know it’s rather late, but I have a possible job for you.”
“She’s done here.” Marayn muttered, brushing past them both as he left the room to give them privacy. “Read that last chapter again before tomorrow-“
Eiryn rolled her eyes behind his back before turning to face Saber. “Feryl?” She rose an eyebrow in inquiry.
He smiled sheepishly. “Marayn was insistent on a real name before he’d provide me with any training.”
“But I thought Feryl was also a nickname.” She said.
“He doesn’t know that.” Saber snickered.
“And this job you mentioned?” She asked, wanting him to get to the point. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder how he found out where she was, and why he sought her out?
“A scouting job.” Saber explained, moving to sit on the table in the small room. “To the Urshilaku camp north of Maar Gan. Do you know where that is?”
Eiryn’s face frowned in thought, “Yes, along the northern coast, in the Sheogorad region. But it’s simple enough to get there.”
Saber paused, distracted by the loose curls from her long braid that pasted to the sweat on her face. She also wore a snug fitting tunic made of a plain blue cloth, only emphasized her lovely trim waist, and was damp in perspiration. He’d watched her for some time before he’d spoken, enjoying her tenacious resolve to master the spell, and how hard she worked to try to accomplish it. “I will understand if you don’t wish to go…”
Her mouth curled into a smile. “Its not that-“ She started to say, shifting uncomfortably to either foot. “How did find me?”
The Dark Elf flashed a boyish grin. “Balmora isn’t that big of a place.” He explained. “I asked around. So will you be my scout?”
According to the Blades’ code, there was nothing truly stopping her from going with him. As a Blade apprentice in training, side quests were often taken to maintain a cover identity, and hers had always been as a scout. It would be foolish not to accept his offer, and frankly, the idea of traveling so far into hostile territory was very appealing. Despite her training here, Balmora was safe, secure, and hardly tested her other skills. But the Ashlander camp was easy enough to find. Why then, did he want a scout to get there? Perhaps he wanted a repeat of what transpired the night before…?
“When do you need to leave?” She asked, not certain if this was a good idea to go or not.
Delighted, the Dunmer hopped off the table. “In the morning, but if you need a few days, I can wait.”
“Is this anything to do with what Caius has set you to do?” She murmured in a soft tone, hoping no one was listening. Here was a man who was set to be the Incarnate. She hadn’t expected he was actually going to return to Balmora to finish.
Saber looked beyond the door, then back at her. He kept his voice low. “My adventure begins…”
So meeting with the Urshilaku was part of his quest, which made sense. They were an elusive tribe. Some hinted they knew more of this Neveravine Prophecy more than any other. “Alright.” She smiled, feeling being part of his adventure might prove one of the greatest challenges of all. “I’ll meet you in the morning.”
Saber slid off the table to step closer to her, and Eiryn nearly stepped back. She wasn’t certain why, figuring she had mixed feelings on his wanting her as a scout, his intentions, perhaps knowing her response to him if he touched her. The very thought of the other night sent shivers up her spine.
“Would you permit me to buy you a drink?” He asked. Saber sensed her wariness, could see her hesitation. Did she regret the other night? The next morning she didn’t seem to, but having too much Sujamma had provided an excuse to why she reacted the way she did.
“Hoping to get lucky?” She asked, the arms still rigid across her chest, almost as if protecting herself. The tone was dry, and Saber was familiar with women to know her thoughts.
“If you mean that I would be spending another marvelous evening in your company, even if just for a drink, as good fortune, then yes, I hope to get lucky.” He grinned. His smile was disarming. No wonder he said he’d charm his way with blighted kagouti!
“Just a drink, eh?” She raised a mocking brow.
His eyes brightened, and expression turned to mischief. “Meet me at the Strider port in half an hour?” He asked, confident of her answer.
“Do you intend we go to the Council Club?” Eiryn asked in shock. That was the closet pub to where he was speaking but only nobles and merchants frequented such a place. She was hardly dressed for the occasion.
“Trust me.” He smiled, moving to leave. He walked backwards a few steps, grinning at some private joke.
“I trust you as far as I can throw you.” She called after him, enjoying the sound of his laughter.
“I look forward to it.” His voice retorted.

After donning a cloak to keep off the evening chill, Eiryn walked to the strider port on the south of town. A breezy wailing sound echoed in the quiet of night. The sound of the Strider call always left her feeling somewhat lonely. The call was a ‘song’ the caravaner told her, to communicate with the other Striders miles away. The sound itself modulated a sorrowful note, yet the young scout took small comfort in knowing that it was actually singing to another of its kind it couldn’t even see, and would likely never even meet.
Much to her surprise, Saber arrived also wearing a cloak with the cowl drawn over his head, and the pommel of his sword peeking from off his right shoulder. In his free hand, he carried a basket. She nearly laughed out loud at the obvious intention. “A picnic?” She said, clapping her hands. “Are you trying to court me, good sir?”
He looked at her askance, eyes glowing orange red in the twilight. “That would assume I was some form of gentleman and we both know that is far from the truth.” He raised the basket to show the bottle of wine he brought, with a simple meal of cold meat, cheese, and bread. “I’m no cook, but I know you hadn’t eaten at the guild.”
“How did you know?” She was famished.
He flashed a grin. “Because Marayn did the same thing to me when I was being trained. I swear the man never eats or sleeps.” Leaning into a bow, he offered his arm to her as a gentleman would.
“You trained with Marayn Dren?” Eiryn said, taking his offered arm to follow him to the city gates. “And what spells were you taught?”
”You mean, what sort of mischief was I up to?” He asked, continuing at her nod. “I was taught the usual levitation spell, water walking…and telekinesis which is also very helpful, particularly with switching things on people’s worktables. Sharn was working on some potion or other, a few ingredients had been mysteriously switched, and it sort of blew up in her face.”
Eiryn covered her mouth to suppress her giggling.
“Yes,” Saber told her leading her down near the Odai river that cut through Balmora. He choose a grassy bank for their picnic just outside the city walls, giving them enough safety to harkens guards if the need arose, but privacy enough to enjoy their late liaison. “I thought it was very entertaining myself, as did the other mages. Sharn, however did not. It took her days to get the stuff out of her hair and robes, and of course I had to clean the ceiling for my penance.” He paused once he discovered the spot he wanted to set the basket down. “At any rate, it certainly honed by levitation skills.”
Eiryn helped spread a blanket he’d brought, and settled to have him serve up the simple fare. “How did you not get turned into a rat?”
He poured the wine. “Mages are not allowed to cast spells as punishment. Sharn could’ve lost her membership to the guild if she tried to retaliate. My only saving grace was that I wasn’t a member, and I apologized profusely.” He shrugged, “I still watch my back with Sharn though.”
”No doubt.” Eiryn well knew the Orc’s temper. “And does trouble follow you everywhere?”
He was just taking a sip of his wine, and nearly choked. Coughing he grimaced at her. “Me? Trouble? What makes you say that?”
She grinned, “Call it a woman’s intuition.”
He offered her glass to her to sip. “I try very hard to avoid it when I can.”
Once she took the glass, his hand wandered to her face, brushing aside an errant lock of hair over her eyes. The soft affection caught her off guard, sending butterflies through her stomach. “I should mention,” He added softly, “that Caius has told me to stay away from you.”
Her green eyes sparkled in sudden anger. “What?”
The Dark Elf watched her reaction, still not sure what to make of it. “I mentioned about wanting you as my scout, and he left no doubt that I was to find someone else.”
“Did he?” Eiryn rankled at the thought. It was bad enough her father kept her so damned safe and sound in the city, but to go so far as to forbid someone to hire her? Or was there more to it than that?
“He also asked me if I slept with you.” Saber continued, tilting his head slightly to consider her response. It wasn’t his intention to spark the fires of contention, but he wanted her to know the man’s suspicions. Not unexpectedly she flared in anger. This mystery intrigued him. “What are you to him?”
Eiryn stiffened, drawing back, and suddenly realizing the Dark Elf was clearly wondering what her relationship was with the spymaster. Sworn to secrecy, she fumed as to what to tell him. Her father repeatedly treated her as if she was only five years old! Couldn’t he see how others might find his over-protectiveness as suspicious?
“You’re not doing a very good job of avoiding trouble if you seek me out after being told to stay away from me.” She pointed out, changing the subject.
Saber relaxed, leaning against an outstretched arm to bend forward. “Should I stay away from you?”
“If you don’t want the wrath of Caius upon her neck.” She smiled, “But why is it you seem to wish to provoke him?”
“It is petty isn’t it?” He sighed.
“It is if that’s why you’re here with me now.”
Saber looked at her sharply at her assumption. “I’m here because I want to be with you. Caius has nothing to do with it.”
“And asking me to be your scout?”
Before speaking, the Dark Elf paused, not wishing to insult her intelligent by being flippant. “Because I need a scout, someone that can watch my back, who is competent, and frankly, I thoroughly enjoy your company. Provoking Caius is only a side benefit.”
“And having a bedmate for the trip doesn’t hurt either.” She said in a bland tone, turning slightly to sip wine and admire the stars twinkling above them.
He knew the sudden coolness of her tone and the cause of it. “If you do not wish to sleep with me, that is your choice. I would still want you with me.”
By her raised brow, he knew she wasn’t sure to believe him. “Why?”
“Why-?” He echoed.
“You truly want me specifically as your scout, just for the sake of scouting?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because there is a whole guild full of competent scouts that wouldn’t get you into trouble with Caius.” She told him, a small crease on her forward indicated her trying very hard not to frown.
“But they are not as pretty.” Saber grinned, “Nor as fun to be with.”
His demeanor was very disarming, and Eiryn sighed as anger abated. Not that she fell for any of his flattery. Men could well cause other women to swoon with a kind word, a soft compliment, or even a seductive kiss, but Eiryn considered herself a bit more practical than that. “And I’m to believe you’d be satisfied if I refuse to be your bedmate as well?”
He measured her words carefully, and then spoke softly. “If that is your wish, and your stipulations in traveling with me, I would still accept your terms.” A smiled tugged at his mouth. “I would never force you to do something you would not wish to do.”
Still not entirely convinced, she mimicked his posture and remained stern. “Then I must insist those is my terms.” She watched for his reaction, and saw disappointment. “Still want me as your guide?”
“Without hesitation.” He replied, the smile returning. “You underestimate yourself, Eiryn. And your value.”
The young woman shifted her position to cross legs. “And what do you know of my worth?” She challenged him, “Based on a single night’s bedding?”
He snorted a laugh. “I do not judge you based on our night together, but on what you told me. Have you forgotten your telling me about the Ashlanders, and the customs of the Televani? What of the Guar herds or Kagouti mating rituals? You know so much about the lay of the land, and how to expect the change in weather. Such things are important to know for a scout. You speak your mind, which I admire greatly, and your only flaw is your own lack of faith.”
“Lack of faith?” She asked, with a frown. How could he so easily appraise her?
“That is why your levitation failed.” He explained. Lifting his hand, he cupped fingers to have sparkles fly off the fingertips into an arch. Letting the tiny lights flow between fingers, he built the magical ball of light to the size of an apple, admiring her face in the warm glow. “Strength of will, focus, and faith that you can do it is the power behind magick and many other things you do in life.” The ball of lightning snuffed out suddenly, leaving a wisp of smoke to furl in the dark.
“And here I thought I was boring you with all my talk the other night.” She snickered.
“Far from it.” He told her, rifling through the basket to prepare her something to eat. “All the more reason I want you with me on this trip. Just to have someone to talk to.”
“Even though I won’t sleep with you?”
The Dark Elf paused, gauging if she was serious. “I’ll content myself with your delightful company.” He answered her, cutting off a piece of bread to touch to her lips. She accepted, wondering what sort of adventure this trip was going to entail. More importantly, how Caius was going to take the news?
When she finished eating and accepted a cup of wine, Eiryn was determined to not get drunk this night. The thought of another night of passion made her feel warm, but this time she wanted to be sober…
As they walked back to the city, she paused near the strider port to hop playfully on the first step in order to wrap arms around the Dark Elf’s neck and drew him into a sudden and passionate kiss.
”I thought you didn’t want-“ he started to say, only to have his remark muffled by another kiss, this one more demanding. At first, he struggling only from the shock of her abrupt affection, but soon accepted the inevitable and relaxed. Her tongue parried against his, hands griping his shirt to keep him against her and remain upright.
When she finished, she gave a smug grin. “I never said I wasn’t going to sleep with you tonight.”
His eyes lit up, “So why the stipulation at all?”
“I need to know that I’m wanted for my skills as a scout.” She explained, hopping back down the single step to head towards the Eight Plates Inn to where she stayed when visiting Balmora. Saber followed, amused by her reasoning.
“And how am I to know where you place value upon me?” He challenged her. “Or is my use to you only as a skillful bedmate?”
She laughed at the absurdity. “I’ll let you know in the morning!”
“Wench!” He feigned an offended hiss at her. He went to grasp her hand, only to find her jumping back with a playful laugh. Mocking him, she made a face, and started skipping down the street out of his reach. And she was sober? Amused at her antics, he bolted into a rush only to find she anticipated his running, and raced down the street.
By the time he caught up, she was at the Eight Plates, where she let him snatch her up in his arms in the protective alcove of the Inn’s entrance. Out of breath, she laughed, making a show of struggling against him. “Ready to prove your worth to me, rogue?” She asked him in a low sultry tone.
Amazed by her sudden change of mood, he answered her by running fingers along the side of her face. “Eager to please, my lady.”
Once inside her tiny room, she shut and locked the door for privacy and proceeded to assault him with enthusiasm. Stunned, Saber found he rather liked this woman taking authority, but had thought the other night her actions were only a momentary benefaction of the whiskey.
For her size, she was strong. Slim, her figure was also toned more than most women, and he found it quite enthralling. His fingers released her hair from the long braid, leaving the tresses to fall around her face in gentle waves. The length fell to the middle of her back in a thick mane.
Giving a playful shove, she pushed him against the bed where the back of his knees connected with the frame. It caused him to buckle, whereby the young woman forcibly pushed him back on the bed. Now straddled, Saber enjoyed this position as she leaned over to kiss him deeply. He ran hands up her back, pulling her tunic as he did so until it finally could slip off her head. She sighed, fingers almost tickling when she started undoing the buckles of his sword harness, and he only then felt the discomfort of the sword scabbard prodding him in the back.
“Hmm.” She moaned in pleasure. “You smell like leather.”
He never thought a woman might be turned on by scent. Laughing, he had to sit up long enough to help her remove the harness and shirt, and only then did Eiryn finally allow him to roll her onto her back. Pressing against her, the Dunmer felt her fingernails rake gently on his back, sending shivers up his spine.
Her mouth sighed hot breath along his ear, the lips teasing the sensitive tip until he groaned. Gasping, he drew back to admire the flush of her fair skin, the wide pupils in her eyes, the length of her hair splayed on the pillow. Gods she was beautiful. How could she not see it?
Kissing her again, he cupped a breast, using a thumb to rub the peak to hardness. Her back arched, prompting him to shift his weight in order to pull off what remained of her clothes. Replacing his thumb with his mouth, he used his tongue and lips until he heard the soft whimper bubble up her throat. Taking his cue, he moved lips lower, enjoying the seductive writhing of her body until he reached her secret places.
Saber heard the rewarding sound of her sweet moaning, and dared to look up to see her biting her lower lip in anticipation. Using long fingers, he touched her soft places, stroking and adding his lips and tongue. Soon the young Breton was nearly incoherent as she squirmed in delight, begging for more.
Nearly beside himself with desire, Saber withdrew only long enough to pull off trousers and returning to her side. Her nails raked his skin, this time harder, more demanding and there was little doubt to what she wanted now.
Covering her mouth with his own, Saber kissed her passionately. With effort, he mustered as much control as he could find, slowly inserted himself until the pain of her clawing his back made him hiss in response.
“Sorry…” She breathed; retracting claws, and replaced the sensation of gripping his hips wanting him to move.
“No harm done.” He murmured in her ear, beginning to move in slow rhythmic movements. By the Nine Divines, she felt so good. Only briefly did he wonder how he was to control himself if she traveled with him, but then again, he might enjoy such sweet torture-
He honed in on her response, moving faster as he felt muscles grip against him, until sweat beaded on his dark skin. Faster he moved, prompted by her cries until he finally felt her shudder violently, crying out as she reached orgasm. He soon followed her response thinking it was indeed possible to faint from such efforts.
Spent, he had only strength enough to keep most of his weight off her, as he caught his breath. She was still breathing hard, and chuckled lightly. “You might be worth keeping around.” Eiryn teased.
“If you’re not the death of me first.” He said, his voice grown husky.
Cupping his face in her hands, she forced his head up to plant a kiss on his mouth. He looked down at her face, damp with sweat, and hair disheveled around her face. Yes, this woman was beautiful. Not only the lovely features of her face, but the wild spirit she had. Several moments, he enjoyed the taste of her lips, the slight caress of her hands on his lower back.
He shifted his weight to lay only half on her, with his arm draped across her, holding her protectively. He realized that with this woman, somehow the sensation and ardor were more intense. With the other women, he felt a certain sense of expectation from him. From Eiryn, she only wanted mutual sharing of pleasure.
No, he told himself, that wasn’t entirely it. He found her utterly amazing. Her humor, her forwardness, her strength- Eiryn was one of a kind, and not like any woman he’d met before. Yes, it was indeed entirely possible she was going to be the death of him, he mused. Not tonight, however. He hadn’t lied to Sottilde at the South Wall earlier that night. He was tired from a long day.
Closing his eyes, he felt exhausted. Her fingers trailed along his arm, fingernails only slightly raking against flesh now. He knew she left marks on him this time, which only brought a smug grin on his mouth. “What’s so funny?” She asked. He grunted, not realized she’d been looking at him.
“Wondering about the damage, my dear.” He said without opening his eyes. He felt her move, a hand touch his lower back, and her sweet laugh.
“Sorry about that.” She sighed, settling against him again. “A healing potion should take care of it.”
”I might want to keep those to scar.” Saber told her sheepishly. He felt a slight slap on his shoulder, and felt close to the edge of sleep. “You don’t mind me staying here do you?”
“S’wit.” She responded, her head turning to rest against his to sleep. He fell over the edge with a smile on his face.