Chapter Text
“Demrayni!” I am certain my mother’s voice can be heard at the gates of the Blue Palace. I drop the penis in my hand like a hot potato and wipe the spit and pre-cum from my lips, before looking over my shoulder at my mother and stepfather standing at the door of my bedroom. Were they not supposed to be at the Blue Palace for dinner tonight?
There is disgust on my mother’s face and a glint of lust in Vundling, my stepfather’s eyes when he looks at the paw fondling my naked breast. Not that his lust is targeted at me, that would be creepy. My stepdad is a real satyriasis. He lives and breathes sex. He is known as a regular at the whorehouse and has been seen visiting the promiscuous females living within or near Solitude at all hours of the day. How my mother can stand his touch is beyond me.
Vundling signals with his hand to the door, his eyes on the Khajiit, “You! Out!”
Rathzin grins at the two people and his tongue play over my nipple before he slides from the bed. My mother’s face turns crimson when Rathzin bumps into her with his naked body and I suppress a giggle when he blows a kiss from behind her back at me.
“For the love of the Eight clean up and get dressed. I want to see you in my study.” Vundling turns on his heels and my mother follows him after looking at me and I must admit the disappointment in her eyes hurt.
Somewhere in the house, I can hear two male voices arguing and a female voice urging them to keep it down.
There are scratch marks over my body left by Rathzin’s claws and I dab some healing potion on one of the deeper scratches running across my hip. As long as it does not become infected it will not leave any scars. I pull the dress over my head and the silk caressing my skin feels like Rathzin’s soft fur when he moves against my naked body.
My mother turns away when I enter dear old Stepdad’s study, but not before I saw her red, swollen eyes. The bastard made her cry again or was it me this time?
Vundling pushes a document across the table. “I have had enough of your disrespect of my name, Demrayni. First, you were kicked out of the Mage’s Guild for helping Narsis Dren steal The Maelmoth Mysterium from their library and now you fuck a cat in my house.”
My mother starts to cry again and Vundling signals her to leave the room.
“You have two…no three options. You can take your things and leave, marry Baxold or apply at the Fighters Guild. There is talk of war coming to Tamriel and the guild needs every able person, especially a mage like you.”
B'vek, it is not as if I have much of a choice. I am not marrying a sour puss mage the same age as my mother and I do not want to leave my mother alone with the Nord. And why by the light of Almalexia did she marry him? After my father’s death, she sold everything in Mounhold and bought a small house and bakery in Solitude. “To get away from memories was her answer when her friends asked.
Vundling was not the first or only person to court my mother. There was an old friend of my father but he wanted to take us to Vvardenfell and a few more that did not go beyond a first dinner at the inn. Within two years after our arrival in Solitude, she married the Nord who even then was known for his roaming eyes and dick.
I have not seen Rathzin since the day he was ordered to leave the house. According to a very smug Vundling he opted to take the bag of money offered to him and went back to Elsweyr. It must have been a lot of money for him to return to a dragon-infested province.
The hall steward, Aicessar is waiting for me at the top of the stairs. “Welcome to our hall. I know we will all be drawing blades together soon enough.” The High Elf walks me to the door, “Olred is waiting for you inside to issue you with armour and weapons. Let me be the first to officially welcome you as an Associate of the Fighters Guild.”
It turns out I am not only a mage but a Magicka Nightblade and I must admit I like having all these strange new powers. I can flash through the shadows and ambush the enemy. I have magical blades that thrust, strike and slash. I can cloak myself in shadows, becoming invisible for a few seconds. I can steal someone’s life force, draining their Magicka to leave them vulnerable to attacks. With the new powers and my trusted Ice Staff, I am a badass Dark Elf.
I turned nineteen yesterday. It is the second birthday I celebrated far from home and the second birthday I have celebrated since the feared Three Banners War started. Who started the war? I do not know but soldiers fight and die because of leaders with more ambition than common sense.
In the past year and a half, we fought the Daggerfall Covenant in Bleakrock where we ran like mice being chased by a cat, leaving the island for the Covenant to claim victory. After Bal Foyen we can hold our heads high again. Like Commander Darj said, “Damn their hides, yes! Fort Zeren is still in Pact hands.
The sergeant blows a whistle and I press my lips to the letter before dropping it in the chest marked “Western Skyrim”. The letter is addressed to my mother, and I hope she will receive it as I have received none from her. The last time I received any news from home was when Brondold joined the regiment when we sat foot on Bal Foyen's shores a year ago.
The commander sets a fast pace, and two hundred footsteps echo against the mountains next to the road to Stonefalls. I hope we will make Davon’s Watch before nightfall and really, really hope there will be someone thinking about all the hungry soldiers marching upon the city to fight against the invading Covenant forces.