Palla, Book II |
2920, Evening Star 2920, First Seed 2920, FrostFall 2920, Hearth Fire 2920, Last Seed 2920, MidYear 2920, Morning Star 2920, Rain's Hand 2920, Second Seed 2920, Sun's Dawn 2920, Sun's Dusk 2920, Sun's Height 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 1 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 10 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 11 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 12 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 13 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 14 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 15 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 16 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 16 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 17 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 18 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 19 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 2 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 20 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 21 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 22 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 23 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 24 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 25 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 26 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 27 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 28 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 29 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 3 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 30 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 31 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 32 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 33 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 34 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 35 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 36 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 4 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 5 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 6 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 7 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 8 36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 9 A Dance in Fire, Chapter 1 A Dance in Fire, Chapter 2 A Dance in Fire, Chapter 3 A Dance in Fire, Chapter 4 A Dance in Fire, Chapter 5 A Dance in Fire, Chapter 6 A Dance in Fire, Chapter 7 A dying man's last words A Fair Warning A Game at Dinner A Hypothetical Treachery A Less Rude Song A scroll written in blood A Short History of Morrowind A worn and weathered note Aedra and Daedra Ajira's Flower Report Ajira's Mushroom Report Ancestors and the Dunmer Antecedants of Dwemer Law Arcana Restored Arkay the Enemy Azura and the Box Biography of Barenziah v I Biography of Barenziah v II Biography of Barenziah v III Biography of the Wolf Queen Blasphemous Revenants Bone, Part One Bone, Part Two Breathing Water Brief History of the Empire v 1 Brief History of the Empire v 2 Brief History of the Empire v 3 Brief History of the Empire v 4 Brown Book of 3E 426 Chance's Folly Charwich-Koniinge, Volume 1 Charwich-Koniinge, Volume 2 Charwich-Koniinge, Volume 3 Charwich-Koniinge, Volume 4 Cherim's Heart of Anequina Children of the Sky Chimarvamidium Chronicles of Nchuleft Confessions of a Skooma-Eater Corpse Preparation v I Corpse Preparation v I Corpse Preparation v II Corpse Preparation v III Dagoth Ur's Plans Darkest Darkness Death Blow of Abernanit decoded package Directions to Caius Cosades Elante's Notes Elone's Directions to Balmora Fellowship of the Temple Feyfolken I Feyfolken II Feyfolken III Fighters Guild Charter Five Songs of King Wulfharth For my Gods and Emperor Fragment: On Artaeum Frontier, Conquest... Galerion The Mystic Galur Rithari's Papers Ghost-Free Papers Grasping Fortune Great Houses of Morrowind Guide to Ald'ruhn Guide to Balmora Guide to Sadrith Mora Guide to Vivec Guide to Vvardenfell Guylaine's Architecture Hallgerd's Tale Hanging Gardens... Hanin's Wake Hanin's Wake Homilies of Blessed Almalexia Honor Among Thieves Hospitality Papers How Orsinium Passed to the Orcs Ice and Chiton Incident in Necrom Invocation of Azura Kagrenac's Tools Last Scabbard of Akrash Legions of the Dead Lives of the Saints Lord Jornibret's Last Dance Mages Guild Charter Master Zoaraym's Tale Message from Dagoth Ur Message from Master Aryon Mission to Vivec -- from Caius Mixed Unit Tactics v1 Mysterious Akavir Mystery of Talara, Part 1 Mystery of Talara, Part 2 Mystery of Talara, Part 3 Mystery of Talara, Part 3 Mystery of Talara, Part 4 Mystery of Talara, Part 5 Mysticism Nchunak's Fire and Faith Nerevar at Red Mountain Nerevar Moon-and-Star Nerevarine cult notes N'Gasta! Kvata! Kvakis! N'Gasta! Kvata! Kvakis! Night Falls On Sentinel note from the Archcanon Notes from Huleeya Notes on Racial Phylogeny Odral's History of the Empire 1 Odral's History of the Empire 2 Odral's History of the Empire 3 Odral's History of the Empire 4 On Morrowind On Oblivion Ordo Legionis Origin of the Mages Guild Overview of Gods and Worship Package for Caius Cosades Palla, Book I Palla, Book II Peke Utchoo's last words Plan to Defeat Dagoth Ur Poison Song I Poison Song II Poison Song III Poison Song IV Poison Song V Poison Song VI Poison Song VII Progress of Truth Provinces of Tamriel Realizations of Acrobacy Red Book of 3E 426 Redoran Cooking Secrets Reflections on Cult Worship Rels Tenim Journal Page Response to Bero's Speech Saryoni's Sermons Saryoni's Sermons Manuscript Scroll of Tyronius Senilius' Report Sharn's Legions of the Dead Silence Sithis Smuggler's Island Song of the Alchemists Special Flora of Tamriel Spirit of the Daedra Starlover's Log Surfeit of Thieves Tal Marog Ker's Researches Tamrielic Lore Tarer's Aedra and Daedra The Affairs of Wizards The Alchemists Formulary The Annotated Anuad The Annotated Anuad The Anticipations The Arcturian Heresy The Armorer's Challenge The Art of War Magic The Axe Man The Battle of Red Mountain The Black Arrow, Volume 1 The Black Arrow, Volume II The Black Glove The Book of Daedra The Book of Dawn and Dusk The Brothers of Darkness The Buying Game The Cake and the Diamond The Cantatas of Vivec The Changed Ones The Consolations of Prayer The Doors of the Spirit The Dowry The Dragon Break Re-Examined The Eastern Provinces... The Final Lesson The Firmament The Firsthold Revolt The Four Suitors of Benitah The Gold Ribbon of Merit The Hope of the Redoran The Horror of Castle Xyr The House of Troubles The House of Troubles The Importance of Where The Legendary Scourge The Locked Room The Lost Prophecy The Lunar Lorkhan The Madness of Pelagius The Marksmanship Lesson The Mirror The Monomyth The Old Ways The Pig Children The Pilgrim's Path The Posting of the Hunt The Prayers of Baranat The Ransom of Zarek The Real Barenziah v I The Real Barenziah v II The Real Barenziah v III The Real Barenziah v IV The Real Barenziah v V The Real Nerevar The Rear Guard The Red Book of Riddles The Ruins of Kemel-Ze The Seed The Seven Curses The Seven Visions The Third Door The True Nature of Orcs The True Noble's Code The War of the First Council The Waters of Oblivion The Wild Elves The Wolf Queen, Book I The Wolf Queen, Book II The Wolf Queen, Book III The Wolf Queen, Book IV The Wolf Queen, Book V The Wolf Queen, Book VI The Wolf Queen, Book VII The Wolf Queen, Book VIII The Wraith's Wedding Dowry The Yellow Book of Riddles tradehouse notice Trap Unnamed Book Vampires of Vvardenfell, v I Vampires of Vvardenfell, v II Varieties of Faith... Vernaccus and Bourlor Vivec and Mephala Where Were You ... Dragon Broke Withershins Words and Philosophy Words of Clan Mother Ahnissi Yellow Book of 3E 426 Zainsubani's Notes |
Palla Book II by Vojne Mierstyyd Palla. Pal La. The name burned in my heart. I found myself whispering it in my studies even when I tried to concentrate on something the Magister was saying. My lips would silently purse to voice the Pal, and tongue lightly flick to form the La as if I were kissing her spirit before me. It was madness in every way except that I knew that it was madness. I knew I was in love. I knew she was a noble Redguard woman, a fierce warrior more beautiful than the stars. I knew her young daughter Betaniqi had taken possession of a manorhouse near the Guild, and that she liked me, perhaps was even infatuated. I knew Palla had fought a terrible beast and killed it. I knew Palla was dead. As I say, I knew it was madness, and by that, I knew I could not be mad. But I also knew that I must return to Betaniqi's palace to see her statue of my beloved Palla engaged in that final, horrible, fatal battle with the monster. Return I did, over and over again. Had Betaniqi been a different sort of noblewoman, more comfortable with her peers, I would not have had so many opportunities. In her innocence, unaware of my sick obsession, she welcomed my company. We would talk for hours, laughing, and every time we would take a walk to the reflecting pond where I would always stop breathless before the sculpture of her mother. It's a marvelous tradition you have, preserving these figures of your ancestors at their finest moments, I said, feeling her curious eyes on me. And the craftsmanship is without parallel. You wouldn't believe me, laughed the girl. But it was a bit of scandal when my great grandfather began the custom. We Redguards hold a great reverence for our families, but we are warriors, not artists. He hired an traveling artist to create the first statues, and everyone admired them until it was revealed that the artist was an elf. An Altmer from the Summurset Isle. Scandal! It was, absolutely, Betaniqi nodded seriously. The idea that a pompous, wicked elf's hands had formed these figures of noble Redguard warriors was unthinkable, profane, irreverent, everything bad you can imagine. But my great grandfather's heart was in the beauty of it, and his philosophy of using the best to honor the best passed down to us all. I would not have even considered having a lesser artist create the statues of my parents, even if it would have been more allegiant to my culture. They're all exquisite, I said. But you like the one of my mother most of all, she smiled. I see you look at it even when you seem to be looking at the others. It's my favorite also. Would you tell me more about her? I asked, trying to keep my voice light and conversational. Oh, she would have said she was nothing extraordinary, but she was, the girl said, picking a flower from the garden. My father died when I was quite young, and she had so many roles to fill, but she did them all effortlessly. We have a great many business interests and she was brilliant at managing everything. Certainly better than I am now. All it took was her smile and everyone obeyed, and those that didn't paid dearly. She was very witty and charming, but a formidable force when the need arose for her to fight. Hundreds of battles, but I can never remember a moment of feeling neglected or unloved. I literally thought she was too strong for death. Stupid, I know, but when she went to battle that -- that horrible creature, that freak from a mad wizard's laboratory, I never even thought she would not return. She was kind to her friends and ruthless to her enemies. What more can one say about a woman than that? Poor Betaniqi's eyes teared up with remembrance. What sort of villain was I to goad her so, in order to satisfy my perverted longings? Sheogorath could never have conflicted a mortal man more than me. I found myself both weeping and filled with desire. Palla not only looked like a goddess, but from her daughter's story, she was one. That night while undressing for bed, I rediscovered the black disc I had stolen from Magister Tendixus's office weeks before. I had half-forgotten about its existence, that mysterious necromantic artifact which the mage believed could resurrect a dead love. Almost by pure instinct, I found myself placing the disc on my heart and whispering, Palla. A momentary chill filled my chamber. My breath hung in the air in a mist before dissipating. Frightened I dropped the disc. It took a moment before my reason returned, and with it the inescapable conclusion: the artifact could fulfill my desire. Until the early morning hours, I tried to raise my mistress from the chains of Oblivion, but it was no use. I was no necromancer. I entertained thoughts of how to ask one of the Magisters to help me, but I remembered how Magister Ilther had bid me to destroy it. They would expel me from the Guild if I went to them and destroy the disc themselves. And with it, my only key to bringing my love to me. I was in my usual semi-torpid condition the next day in classes. Magister Ilther himself was lecturing on his specialty, the School of Enchantment. He was a dull speaker with a monotone voice, but suddenly I felt as if every shadow had left the room and I was in a palace of light. When most persons think of my particular science, they think of the process of invention. The infusing of charms and spells into objects. The creation of a magickal blade, perhaps, or a ring. But the skilled enchanter is also a catalyst. The same mind that can create something new can also provoke greater power from something old. A ring that can generate warmth for a novice, on the hand of such a talent can bake a forest black. The fat man chuckled: Not that I'm advocating that. Leave that for the School of Destruction. That week all the initiates were asked to choose a field of specialization. All were surprised when I turned my back on my old darling, the School of Illusion. It seemed ridiculous to me that I had ever entertained an affection for such superficial charms. All my intellect was now focused on the School of Enchantment, the means by which I could free the power of the disc. For months thereafter, I barely slept. A few hours a week, I'd spend with Betaniqi and my statue to give myself strength and inspiration. All the rest of my time was spent with Magister Ilther or his assistants, learning everything I could about enchantment. They taught me how to taste the deepest levels of magicka within a stored object. A simple spell cast once, no matter how skillfully and no matter how spectacularly, is ephemeral, of the present, what it is and no more, sighed Magister Ilther. But placed in a home, it develops into an almost living energy, maturing and ripening so only its surface is touched when an unskilled hand wields it. You must consider yourself a miner, digging deeper to pull forth the very heart of gold. Every night when the laboratory closed, I practiced what I had learned. I could feel my power grow and with it, the power of the disc. Whispering Palla, I delved into the artifact, feeling every slight nick that marked the runes and every facet of the gemstones. At times I was so close to her, I felt hands touching mine. But something dark and bestial, the reality of death I suppose, would always break across the dawning of my dream. With it came an overwhelming rotting odor, which the initiates in the chambers next to mine began to complain about. Something must have crawled into the floorboards and died, I offered lamely. Magister Ilther praised my scholarship, and allowed me the use of his laboratory after hours to further my studies. Yet no matter what I learned, Palla seemed scarcely closer. One night, it all ended. I was swaying in a deep ecstasy, moaning her name, the disc bruising my chest, when a sudden lightning flash through the window broke my concentration. A tempest of furious rain roared over Mir Corrup. I went to close the shutters, and when I returned to my table, I found that the disc had shattered. I broke into hysterical sobs and then laughter. It was too much for my fragile mind to bear such a loss after so much time and study. The next day and the day after, I spent in my bed, burning with a fever. Had I not been a Mages Guild with so many healers, I likely would have died. As it was, I provided an excellent study for the budding young scholars. When at last I was well enough to walk, I went to visit Betaniqi. She was charming as always, never once commenting on my appearance, which must have been ghastly. Finally I gave her reason to worry when I politely but firmly declined to walk with her along the reflecting pool. But you love looking at the statuary, she exclaimed. I felt that I owed her the truth and much more. Dear lady, I love more than the statuary. I love your mother. She is all I've been able to think about for months now, ever since you and I first removed the tarp from that blessed sculpture. I don't know what you think of me now, but I have been obsessed with learning how to bring her back from the dead. Betaniqi stared at me, eyes wide. Finally she spoke: I think you need to leave now. I don't know if this is a terrible jest -- Believe me, I wish it were. You see, I failed. I don't know why. It could not have been that my love wasn't strong enough, because no man had a stronger love. Perhaps my skills as an enchanter are not masterful, but it wasn't from lack of study! I could feel my voice rise and knew I was beginning to rant, but I could not hold back. Perhaps the fault lay in that your mother never met me, but I think that only the caster's love is taken into account in the necromantic spell. I don't know what it was! Maybe that horrible creature, the monster that killed her, cast some sort of curse on her with its dying breath! I failed! And I don't know why! With a surprising burst of speed and strength for so small a lady, Betaniqi shoved herself against me. She screamed, Get out! and I fled out the door. Before she slammed the door shut, I offered my pathetic apologies: I'm so sorry, Betaniqi, but consider that I wanted to bring your mother back to you. It's madness, I know, but there is only one thing that's certain in my life and that's that I love Palla. The door was nearly shut, but the girl opened it crack to ask tremulously: You love whom? Palla! I cried to the Gods. My mother, she whispered angrily. Was named Xarlys. Palla was the monster. I stared at the closed door for Mara knows how much time, and then began the long walk back to the Mages Guild. My memory searched through the minutiae to the Tales and Tallows night so long ago when I first beheld the statue, and first heard the name of my love. That Breton initiate, Gelyn had spoken. He was behind me. Was he recognizing the beast and not the lady? I turned the lonely bend that intersected with the outskirts of Mir Corrup, and a large shadow rose from the ground where it had been sitting, waiting for me. Palla, I groaned. Pal La. Kiss me, it howled. And that brings my story up to the present moment. Love is red, like blood. |