Join the Ashes of Creation MMORPG
(Register or log in to remove advertisements - why ads?)

Mind-Realming II

Started by Harlwystyr
Post #78433

Likes Given: 14
Likes Received: 310
Faction & Race:
Daggerfall Covenant
And so it comes to pass that I lie here, surrounded by foes and ill tidings. My friends are not here - most likely they cannot be here. 'Tis cruelty for me, the punishment for my sheer vanity of even calling out for them - calling for them to go through these chaotic energies simply to reach me. Nay, I will have to combat these assailants alone.

Alone it shall be, and they shall not suspect a gentle surrender. I will yet fight minds against mind for my survival. I cannot possibly imagine standing against them in clear battle, however, for they can diminish me to a gibbering fool within the blink of an eye.

These cultists, these magelings - They're of unruly minds and overconfident intelligence. They are like willful children, in some ways, and cannot hope to match my cache of experience and memories.

Oh and they know this, which is why they keep torturing me with those waves of lashes and mind-blasting spells. They most likely see me as a plaything, a trophy perhaps.

I've led a good life, nevertheless. A life of sensation, beautiful sights and fond memories, terrible moments and blessed acts of love 'and kindness. A life these cultists lack. That mage-lore should even be within the reach of their hands disappoints me. If they had asked for knowledge, I would have given them the understandin' to see Nirn in another light - one where Molag Bal is not destined to destroy innocents and rule the realm. Alas, they've chosen to use force.

So 'tis war that it must come to, as usual. I spot man and mer amongst them. A war Harlwystyr Ealthar can't win, but can't afford to lose. With every lashing of their mindblasts and taunts, Harlwystyr is a little less, and they are a little more.

I cannot stop them, however. I'll have to bide my time and force these trespassers from my thoughts. Therein I'll find victory, although bitter it may be. Well, I shall salute these magelings for attempting and getting this far. Well done, aggressors.

I'll have to ponder on this, however. I need thought and free thinking - time to think. I must withdraw from the battlefield for now and allow them to boast and rummage their magic about. I will go to the commanding tent and confer with all my captains, generals and soldiers, who are all Harlwystyr.

I hope we can agree on something.


A single tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a faint, tingling feeling. He smiled through the sadness and extended Calina a hand, nodding approvingly.

“Well, I’ve done my best with ye, but I believe ‘tis thy time to shine – to act, travel, laugh, walk, talk and sing as ye please. I have my utmost faith in ye,” he continued, widening his thin lips in a warm smile – a smile she replied.

No words came in her haste, however, as she turned to leave with quick steps. His eyes trailed her for a while, burrowing deep into her back, as if he attempted to peer through her clothes, flesh and bones, into her soul. She was quite a lovely girl as well, having matured into a quick-learning, smart woman. He could’ve sworn she sent him a wink.

Ah well. She reminded him a bit of a former apprentice, Bryston, before he passed away. A researcher, forever on the hunt for more knowledge. Curious as a new born babe. Then again, that was the hallmarks of great mage-craft.



The smoke and arcane motes whirled around in the room like angry bees, stinging and sprouting all the same - bringing sudden doom to any furniture within an arm's reach of their deadly power.

"You will die now, old fool!"

The hooded man by the door clawed madly at the air, cursing and snarling the best he knew before forked chains of golden flames encircled him - eventually springing from his fingertips, seeking life.

They tore madly through the room, clawing at the tapestries with their energies - resulting in flashes and colours that could put a Wayrest noble's party to shame. The barrage continued its deadly path towards the elderly breton seated in the middle. He watched with velvet calm as they rebounded and snarled back to the cultist. He waved cheerily to the cultist as the flames smashed into his chest, sending him - shocked and shrieking - out the door and down the stairs.

"Sal"," he called out tiredly, "there's someone at the door. A daedra worshipper, the second this week, as usual. Ye'd think they'd have a list with dates and time for the sole benefit of interrupting my meals, heh."

"I know," an angry, partially annoyed and sour voice came from down the stairs, "My tapestries - why must they always burn my tapestries? There's all your hideous paintings dotting every part of the tower, remaining intact by magefire and ice, but no, tearing away my tapestries as usual. I think that is their real goal here, Harl."

He crooked the corner of his lips into a sharp smirk, raising a hand to illustrate beautiful patterns and extravagant figures. White radiance struck from his fingers as the tapestries regained their full picture and length.

Salenria's head darted into view from the door then, dress dragging splinters from the door with it in its passing. She looked around, demonstrated and pointed out eventual destruction with her fingers.

"Belt up, Harlwystyr, it's typical you - journeying across Tamriel, finding some things you like and dislike. What other mage does that? Bashing in those cultists' business-"

"Disrupting, not bashing, dearest," he clarified, arching a brow.

Her eyes almost touched the ceiling in frustration.

"Hareld is coming at the fifth hour. He is coming such a long way just to see you."

A pair of old and magey hands rose to be spread in a silent apology.


Hareld was standing in the library, hands closely knit behind his back in both anger and frustration. He drew himself up to his slim, dignified, yet somehow archaic height and announced, "I do not like this quite as much as I should, but-"

“What now, dear Hareld? Something is on your mind? Is it this new dress?" Salenria solidified her question with a sweet, curious smile - apprentices hastening around her, performing their directed duties.

With a brief, feigned smile, Hareld turned to meet her gaze and whispered in a hushed tone, "It is not that. This tower feels empty, and-"

"You're going delicate on me now? Hah, Harl would find be rolling on the floor now. He ventured to investigate those worshippers' meeting, yes?"

"Yes," the man tiredly warned her, something slightly amiss and grim in his eyes. "Yestereve, when you were busy with the new project, I... I tried to far-speak and contact Harlwystyr to hear of his progress. He... I could not find him."

The sorceress suddenly stiffened. Hareld drew cautiously back as his friend's eyes went dark and slightly blank. The very air around her started to thicken and sprout tiny lights. Those lights grew as Salenria poured more of her stored arcane energy into existence.

Lights that turned to lightning.

The apprentices stopped midway in their tasks, murmuring fearfully - consternation dominating their facial features in a tight grip. Something was very wrong.

The belt she wore started to sizzle and stink - the leather pressed to full heat before it buckled under the pressure of the Arts, her face on the verge of tears. Her proud head lifted with closed eyes as she devoted time to think.

The lightning ceased. The sorceress was on the move. Hareld followed in her steps, his own more controlled and carefully planned, but with the same, grave demeanor.

"Mistress, we- you'll be gone f- for long?" a trembling apprenticed asked - Salenria's head turning to lance her eyes directly into his - a stare he could not withstand.

"I go to rescue a man I love; who's worth more to me than you," she said, her voice shaking and wavering under the truth in her words, "and worth far, far more than me."


A continuation of a series of memories by Harlwystyr. Written here is a monologue in his mind during the fighting, and then a few memories as he recalls them - and finally an event that isn't a memory, but rather that of two of his friends discovering that he's in trouble.
Like this post Reply
The following 1 user likes Harlwystyr's post:
Archmage Alator

Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)
(Register or log in to remove advertisements - why ads?)

This fan site is not affiliated with ZeniMax Media Inc. or any of its subsidiaries. Including, but not limited to, Bethesda Game Studios and ZeniMax Online Studios.
The Elder Scrolls® images © ZeniMax Media Inc. / Forum content ©