The next day.
Feator Kaslana.
Well, well…
You bother the poor elves, and then they order you to sit around all day and do nothing.
At least the elven perception of time saves me.
With it, I can sit by the window in the morning, watching nature…
And come to my senses late in the evening.
And if they don’t bother me like that, I can sit like that for several days.
An interesting trait of the long-lived.
Which I’ve noticed more than once in other Snow Elves.
And a great way to pass the time when there’s nothing to do…
Ooh?
And what’s that gathering over there?..
I squinted with interest and surveyed the crowd of elves from the window of my chambers, which overlooked the main training hall of the Knight-Paladins.
Well, well, well.
A commotion without me?..
That won’t do.
Putting on a shirt of a very…
fantasy-like style — I don’t know how else to describe it.
Will Turner from Pirates of the Caribbean wore something similar, I think…
Anyway.
I’m not destined to be a fashionista.
I’ll manage somehow.
Besides this, the official (read: mandatory) attire of the First Sword also includes something like cavalry high boots.
That is, boots above the knee, only much more flexible and softer than the original.
So I could move without any problems.
And I shouldn’t forget that without armor, they protect the legs better, since you can’t enchant thinner trouser fabric as well.
Looking at my handsome self in the mirror, I strode out of my room.
Although, these are more like a prince’s quarters, honestly.
But after a dozen years, you get used to such luxury.
After all, for now I’m mostly human, and humans are adaptable creatures.
Literally flying down the spiral staircase of the tower, on top of which I now live like a Disney princess, I ended up at the bottom.
“Interesting, interesting…” I practically tumbled out into a crowd of people dressed in simple white shirts and pants that didn’t hinder training.
Yes, elves don’t always walk around in beautiful outfits and armor.
And not all of them.
Knight-Paladins, by tradition, are less interested in traditional elven luxury.
And in general, Snow Elves don’t dress like scarecrows, preferring sensible white-and-blue colors in their clothing.
Among those gathered were Gelebor and his brother.
I headed straight for them first, because over the past years, a friendly relationship had naturally formed between us.
Although for real friendship, our positions are now too different…
And I’m much busier…
“My shy friend, can you tell me what this meeting is about?” I approached, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“F-Feator.” Gelebor greeted me somewhat falteringly, flinching at my words.
He must have been deep in thought…
“I don’t know what a ‘meeting’ is, but…
Captain Kelembris’s adjutant was here.
He said there would be an announcement soon and everyone needed to be here…
And so…
We’re waiting.” “And since I didn’t find out about this first…” I narrowed my eyes in my favorite gesture, pretending to be the most suspicious type.
Gin Ichimaru, you will not be forgotten!..
“That means it came as a surprise to everyone.” “Uh-huh.” Gelebor nodded, frowning worriedly.
“So, if you didn’t know about it, you don’t know what wave of magic swept through last night?” “No idea.” I lied somewhat, remembering the sensation that had woken me in the middle of the night.
Ysgramor.
Humans.
Snow Elves.
Merethic Era.
Night of Tears.
…Those who’ve done the College of Winterhold questline remember this thing.
The Eye of Magnus.
An artifact of considerable power, belonging to an entire God of Magic.
A horror more dangerous than a nuclear bomb.
Trou-ouble…
“But you clearly have suspicions, Lord First Sword.” Vyrthur glanced at me with interest.
He didn’t yet have the madness from the fifth part of the Elder Scrolls.
Right now he was a rather troublesome kid, but not a cruel maniac.
Plus, he was a very devout believer in Auri-El, which put him in good standing with the leadership.
The latter did have some bias towards the sincerely faithful.
Not surprising that in the future he would become archbishop…
If, of course, he didn’t claim that title himself after the extermination of the Snow Elves.
“I have suspicions.” I agreed, hiding the emotions that had overcome me.
“But why guess when they’ll tell us the answer anyway?” I asked with a grin returning to my face, pointing my hand to the side.
There, another captain, Kelembris, had already appeared, the one who commanded the squad with my friends.
And while the boss himself kept a decent face, his adjutant, who was younger, was frowning deeply.
Oh, I don’t like this at all.
But am I the First Sword or not?
Like I said, why guess when you can ask?
“Captain Kelembris, may Auri-El illuminate your path.” I said somewhat grandiloquently, but it definitely got the man’s attention.
“I wasn’t informed…
But…
What is happening?..” I continued more quietly, tilting my head questioningly.
“First Sword…” the man said somewhat sluggishly.
“Bad news, in short.
These people…
The bishops believe they have discovered…” He paused for a moment, then mouthed two words.
“The Eye of Magnus.” Taking a heavy breath, he looked over the paladins standing at a distance, then turned back to me.
“Please, no announcements about this for now.
We don’t want panic…” “I understand everything, Captain.
I understand everything.” I gently interrupted the grim warrior, nodding with a knowing smile.
“But what actions are the bishops planning to take?
Or is it still in the discussion stage?..” “That’s His Majesty’s jurisdiction…” he sighed heavily, nodding to his adjutant.
“And I’m afraid they will be the ones to decide.” “If that’s the case.” I shrugged, pretending to have lost interest in what had happened.
In reality, though…
Feator — you’re screwed!
I didn’t break enough butterflies to prevent the Night of Tears.
Which means…
Time to prepare my ass for trouble.
Well, well, when things are really hitting the fan, my rear end comes up way too often…
* * * A few days later.
“Mhm…” I hummed thoughtfully, perched on top of an observation post.
“Did you notice something, Lord First Sword?” Vaysi said with slight sarcasm, sitting nearby.
“A bunch of barbarians in furs.
Nothing unusual.” I shrugged, not reacting to the provocation, and sat down on a small chair opposite.
You can’t forbid a beautiful view of the humans.
Although, what kind of humans are these, just…
Vikings in their worst form.
Not that I blame them, but their level of civilization is, well…
No one from the twenty-first century would consider them equals.
Tolerance is tolerance, but for now I can’t take the local humans seriously.
Enlighten them like Prometheus?
What for?
Just help my fellow race from a past life?
And what has this abstract Mankind done for me to owe it anything?..
Especially some Vikings?
No-o-ope, screw racial solidarity.
I’m definitely going to, um, root for the elves.
Better to put up with long ears and some quirks than the stench coming from my former kin.
Look, I can even smell it from here!
“You lost interest in them quickly.” she noted, peeling an apple that looked perfectly earthly.
“You didn’t last long.” “We-e-ell…
That’s true.” I spread my hands.
I haven’t gotten so unused to human faces that I’d run to rejoice at them.
Snow Elves aren’t that different from humans for me to forget the faces of my former kin.
“Impenetrable.” she sighed, deftly cutting herself a piece of fruit.
“That’s why you love me.” I saluted with two fingers, sinking into the piece of furniture.
“What makes you draw such bold conclusions, Feator?” she tried to feign coldness, but he-e-ey, how many years — or rather, winters — have I known her?
I’ve learned to see the double bottom in her emotions.
“Because I’m not one of your slow-witted admirers who can only mumble and watch from the sidelines for years.” I shrugged, having long noted one of the main reasons for the low birth rate.
The courtship period among elves lasts an incredibly long time, even by the spoiled standards of the twenty-first century.
“I’d like to argue, but…” the elf sighed slightly.
“Going against the truth isn’t my style.
It’s not that they’re slow, Feator.” Her icy-blue eyes fixed on my face.
“They’re just cowardly.
Afraid that I’ll refuse them and all their years of sighing will go to waste, and they won’t find the next object of their dreams anytime soon.” “That’s why I, who according to those around me, due to my youth, don’t understand romance, courtship, flirting, or relationships in general, am the best candidate.” I noted impudently, spreading my hands with a self-confident grin on my face.
“You know everything…” she grumbled, continuing to automatically slice the apple and put it in her mouth.
“And anyway.” she perked up.
“Was that some strange declaration of love, or what?” “That’s for you to decide.” I smirked, further fueling the suspicion that appeared on that cutie’s face.
“I really am still young, but you…” “Your hints about my age stopped bothering me five winters ago.” the girl waved it off, but her fingers trembled slightly.
“I know.
Very, very sorry.
You reacted cutely.” I noted directly, again creating a contrast compared to my current kin.
As much as I’ve declared my own directness in expressing myself about relationships, I’ve been conducting a systematic siege, slow but steady.
What’s the point of waiting any longer?
For That One, the one who will make the Heart Flutter and all that pink sappy stuff?
Especially when this cutie has been right next to me for years?
Especially considering the physiological and psychological factors of abstinence over forty-nine whole years.
Yes, even if I translate that into my perception, it’s only a decade that’s flown by…
But that’s still a lot!
“Little, sneaky, straightforward provocateur…” It sounded like she was scolding me, but…
The girl’s cheeks flushed slightly.
Very slightly, but on her pale, completely untanned face, it was perfectly visible.
Excellent, my bet that dear Vaysi isn’t as cynical and demanding as the human girls of the twenty-first century continues to pay off.
Not that I didn’t understand why my contemporaries ended up with exactly those requirements, but…
Here it was simpler.
Not quite at the level of smile-haystack-family, but still.
“That’s how we roll, mein Fräulein.” I smiled mischievously, having long noted some similarity between the language of the northern elves and German.
This was complemented by some semblances of French words, and the address I used, in a slightly different form, is only used at the highest levels of the aristocracy.
“If you can’t pronounce it, don’t use it…” the girl tried to rebuke me, but she was interrupted by the sound of an arrow embedding itself in our observation post.
The sharpness of elven hearing was no exaggeration, and even during a conversation, I could identify the cause of the sound, feeling my own ears twitch slightly.
Quickly exchanging glances with Vaysi, whom I had practically requisitioned as my partner for the mission of observing the Yudishki — may Warhammer not be mentioned inappropriately — we didn’t put on our armor, but we each cast a Stone Skin spell.
An improved version of the Oakflesh I used in sparring.
We abruptly jumped out through the secret exit of the observation tower, located on the edge of the forest facing the plain that separated us from Saarthal, which stood near a small hill.
“…Ha-a-ah…” I exhaled when, instead of an armed squad of evil Vikings in furs, there turned out to be…
a group of children near our structure.
Look at how wide their eyes were when we appeared.
Vaysi and I did look rather unwarlike, with a rapier and a one-handed flamberge at the ready.
Not to mention the concentrating magic in our free hands.
“Are these…
Their children?” my cutie looked over the frozen kids with interest, turning her gaze to me.
“I’ve never seen them up close.” “So…
How was it in the human tongue…” I racked my brains, trying to remember the few lessons in the human language I’d learned from colleagues who monitored the humans.
There was definitely something from the Scandinavian language group…
“Oh, that’s it.
ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚾᛟᛏ ᚦᛖ ᛖᚾᛖᛗᚤ.
ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚨᚾ ᛖᛚᚠ ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᚾᛟᚹ.
ᚠᚱᛖᚨᛞ.” If I hadn’t mangled the words, it came out meaning that I identified myself as a friend who was an elf from the snow.
Something like that.
I sheathed my blades and dispelled the magic, and we practically looked like the picture of friendliness.
And the kids, judging by the fact they hadn’t run off screaming, understood me well enough.
But seeing that they clearly weren’t capable of conversation, frozen with admiring faces and half-open mouths, I exchanged a glance with my partner.
“Should we head back?
Let them keep playing,” I suggested, smirking briefly.
That arrow that had flown into our post had turned out to be just a test shot from a very good, but still a child’s toy in the form of a bow.
“One second.” She waved her hand slightly, casting some spell on one of the children.
“Poor kid.
You’re cruelty itself.” I couldn’t resist commenting in my overly theatrical style, drumming my fingers on the hilt of my flamberge.
Good weapon.
It gave the local wildlife plenty of trouble.
As far as I remembered, the only real weakness of this type of weapon on Earth was that it broke more often due to its design, but honestly, for elven masters wielding magic on top of that, it wasn’t a problem at all.
“I just put a weight spell on him for a couple of minutes,” the elf shrugged slightly, watching as the bow of the boy who had shot at us suddenly became extremely heavy, and he himself started breathing harder.
“By the time they get back to their people, it’ll have worn off.
But he’ll know better than to dare bother me.” “Well, if you look at it that way…” I scratched the back of my head.
“Then I guess you’re a great child educator.” “Shut up,” came the slightly sluggish reply.
Watching the fleeing crowd of kids, who had picked up their heavily breathing comrade, I just shook my head.
If only either of us had known back then that this fleeting encounter would influence so much…