Prompt 19: Lesson Learned
Sovaliah willed her hands to stop trembling as she held the box of curiosities.
“You may enter now,” A nearby Retainer of Tel Ryn announced, gesturing at the shimmering azure platform before her. The makings of a massive fungal organism ensconced the platform, winding upward until it disappeared into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling above.
Even to her, indigenous of Vvardenfell, this place - this Telvanni tower - made her skin crawl. It was alien of its own accord, a special blend of the esoteric and profane that was the trademark of the Great House.
Sildris had tipped her off about these levitation platforms - that access to the Wizard atop the tower required the passing of a test in and of itself.
Sovaliah had not yet learned to perform levitation spells, but she had been resourceful enough to obtain an enchanted scroll from a mystic. It had cost her more than she wanted to think about.
Suddenly conscious of the fact that the eyes of the retainer were upon her, she swallowed her dread and gave a curt nod, stepping up onto the unnatural platform with her cargo in hand. She noticed denizens of the tower giving her fleeting glances in passing, and her fingers fumbled as she reached for the levitation scroll. She wasn’t ready. But then again, she didn’t know if she ever would be.
The words of activation burned through the scroll, devouring it in a cerulean flame.
Next thing Sovaliah knew, she had been delivered to one of the upper echelons of the tower. She felt ill, her stomach tight with the distinct sensation of having fallen from a great height despite having ascended in actuality. Her vision came into focus and she checked the integrity of the crate she held before slowly raising her gaze up to the unfamiliar space around her.
The room was cast in eerie blue light emanating from the receiving platform and organic lamps. Sovaliah noted the red flicker of a hearth and a tower of books before the details of the environment eddied away in the wake of the overwhelming presence of what could only be the Wizard-Lady Vevrana Lleran.
Even if She hadn’t worn the deceptively simple robes of a Wizard Lord, Sovaliah would have known her for the sense of regal authority that she projected. The Wizard-Lady stood behind the desk with her hands behind her back, shoulders thrown back and chin inclined. Her vivid red eyes stood out from the pale glow of the room, fixed with predatory precision on Sovaliah now.
Sovaliah felt small, suddenly anemic under the pressure of The Wizard-Lady’s focus. The effort it took to step off the platform was not unlike trying to wade through a coursing river. But she pushed through the weakness, stubborn determination fueling her advance into a room that every survival instinct within her screamed to escape from. She had come this far; she would not, could not turn back now.
“What is this?” Vevrana’s voice boomed as her gaze fell upon the curiosities that Sovaliah carried.
Sovaliah wasn’t certain if Telvanni custom dictated any measure of kow-towing, but she decided to play it safe with a deep bow. “I have come with an offering.” She explained, daring a look at the Wizard-Lady’s aging face, only to find the expression there utterly unreadable.
“You will be seeking something in return for this,” Vevrana observed. It was a statement plainly born of experience.
Sovaliah fidgeted, reflexively tightening her fingers around the handles of the crate. She had to speak, otherwise risk being taken for a s’wit - or worse. One could never know with Telvanni, and she wasn’t certain if an error would mean that her next breaths would be through the melting remains of her face. Her mind was running with possibilities. But before primeval fear could take control, she quickly spoke. “With respect, Mistress Lleran, I seek your sponsorship for my advance to the Hireling rank within House Telvanni.”
The Wizard-Lady tilted her head just the barest fraction to the side.
Fueled by adrenaline, Sovaliah continued on speaking. The words spilled out of her mouth and she braced the crate in an arm as she gestured to its contents. “I have brought you an assortment of items from the ruins of Esutanamus. I collected for you rubbings of the inscriptions on the ruin walls, a dedication banner, the bones of a ritual sacrifice, and one such relic that a looter paid with his life for. I included my observations of the findings and their value in written form, as well.”
There was a long, pregnant pause as Sovaliah felt the weight of the Wizard-Lady’s attention upon her offering. Upon hearing no response from the other, she tentatively continued. “I am Velothi, Mistress, and familiar with this site among others to a degree perhaps not traditionally espoused by most Telvanni. It is my wish to serve the House in this knowledge.”
Vevrana’s gaze flickered back up to assess the young mer. “I have not yet decided if you are very brave or very foolish, indeed ...”
It was a statement that Sovaliah had heard more than once in her life, but in this circumstance it hit hard. She was frozen in place, unsure of what to say or do in response.
“... To have retrieved these from the ruins beneath the nose of Tel Mora. Risking Dratha’s fury is no small measure and yet by standing here before me now, you have likely passed undetected. I could make use of such unremarkability.” Vevrana continued and changed her posture, steepling her fingers in contemplation. “Why is it that you wish to become Telvanni, young Velothi?”
Sovaliah could have wept for joy at the turn in the Wizard-Lady’s evaluation, but she was smart enough to hear the warning latent in the question now posed to her. It was a question that she barely knew the answer to herself. How could she sum up such an abstract, lifelong concept and hope for any degree of eloquence? It took an achingly long time, but she settled on the answer that she felt best suited the circumstance. Reveal some, but not too much. A balance, as Sildris had once warned her. “Telvanni have true power. I seek that for myself.”
“And what do you believe power is?” Vevrana pressed.
“Well, there is literal power borne of magicka.” Sovaliah volunteered.
“Hm,” The Wizard-Lady made an indiscernible sound in her throat.
“There is power in knowledge and access to it.”
“There is power in owning land.”
“There is power in financial wealth.”
Vevrana paused for a long moment, studying Sovaliah with a critical eye. “I see,” She murmured.
Sovaliah could feel sweat prickling on her skin under the scrutiny. She tensed, and made herself ask, “Have I become slip-shod in my speaking, Mistress?”
“You have forgotten a crucial component of the assessment.”
Sovaliah frowned as she wracked her mind over her answers, looking for the hole in her presentation.
As if the Wizard-Lady could read the young mer’s mind, she held up a withered hand in silent command for cessation. “These ideas you have described are fleeting.” She clarified at last. “Every one of these attributes can be compromised in some way. If you are to become Telvanni, you will first understand this most important lesson: the root of power lies in perception. House Telvanni occupies its place in our society because it dares to, and thus the whole of Morrowind accepts this truth. As long as the belief holds that our place is undisputed, so it shall be.”
Sovaliah was quiet as she considered the weight of the Wizard-Lady’s words. She had a sense of near prophetic foreboding, that she was on the cusp of an edge from which she would not be able to return. If she was to commit, she would have to do it now. So, she drew in a deep breath, steeled her core, and threw herself off the edge:
“You will sponsor me as your Hireling, then.”
A slow, terrible smile unfurled across the Wizard-Lady’s face.