User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 29

Previous Chapters
1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th, 28th

4th Era 110, 14th of Sun's Height, Summerset Isle
He sighed with satisfaction. All was done. Everything was cleaned, including the windows and exterior walls. He didn't know the exact age of the place, but now after he was done with it, it looked brand new. Balasian wiped the sweat off his brow. He had accumulated quite the collection of dirty clothes from his mission. Reflecting that washing them inside would just splash dirty water where he had cleaned, he dragged the basin from the shed and into the summertide sun to wash them by the shore. He smiled, imagining his love's face as he mentally created her homecoming.

* * *

"You know, I'm surprised that people paid that much for Eldacar's knick knacks and such." Curwe remarked, steering the carriage along the streets, heading back from Peladar's auction house. She had been shocked to see triple and even quadruple figures for what she had thought looked like mundane - even a few ugly - art objects.

"It seemed that Eldacar collected sought after artists. I recognized two by Pelaquil." answered her lawyer, glancing over.

"'Pelaquil'? Who is that?"

"A very talented man...if you believe the art critics. He liked angular sculpture, then painted them grays and browns. The critics loved him because he 'broke away' from the traditional soft colors and lines of Altmer sculpture and art."

"I notice that you are using past tense with his art and name." Curwe noted.

Akadil turned his head to look at her. "He died 50 years ago in an insane asylum." He shifted in his seat to face her. "I'm surprised that you have not heard of him."

"I don't get out much." she admitted.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, you did not miss out on anything of dire importance."

"So," began Curwe. "I guess he was so revolutionary that it got to him and he went crazy."

The lawyer appeared to consider her words. "Yes. I suppose you could look at it that way."

Curwe turned down the street to the realtor's. As she idly listened to the clip-clop of the horses' hooves on the cobblestones, she wondered if she should ask him or not. What was the harm? It was just an innocent question... She cleared her throat. "So...did you....appreciate....his art?"

Akadil shook his head, smiling. "If I wanted something that looked like a brick, I could have just gone to a mason and gotten an actual brick for a quarter of the price." Turning to her once more, he smiled ironically. "Actually, there were - and still are, sometimes - knock-offs of his 'art' that are actual mason's bricks and painted."

Curwe chuckled as the thought came to her. "Someone could dissasemble a house and have cart loads of fakes right there."

"Don't say that too loud," reprimanded Akadil, shaking his finger at her, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone. "Someone could hear and then there would be dismantled chimneys all over the city."

She brust out giggling.

* * *

After negotiating the price with the realtor (30,000 gold, and ten thousand went to the realtor after sale), Curwe arranged with Akadil to bring her her cut after the house sold. As they drove back to Eldacar's residence, they talked about it.

"I'm amazed that he didn't bat an eye at the price you suggested." she said.

"Eldacar's house is somewhat of a landmark," he explained, adjusting in his seat. "Its eccentric enough to stand out, yet not ugly enough to be considered an eyesore. It was the proper price."

"How long has it been there?" she asked.

"Over three hundred years, now. A few generations have been calling it a landmark, and those unfamiliar with Firsthold are told to watch out for his house. Both because of its unusual architecture, and because its right at the edge of town, meaning that the visitors missed the heart of the city they were looking for. His house is idealy situated if you want to be close to town, yet out of the way of bustle, like some like it."

"Sounds like Eldacar was quite well known."

"He was a major competitor to Akanil, before Akanil himself died 5 or so years ago. The business sold out after he died. It was rumored that his sons did not want to be alchemists like their father, but he bribed them to so that he would not expose their addiction to Skooma to the public, ruining their reputations. The sons - twins actually - were quite vocal supporters of the Aldmeri Dominion. When their father died, the rumor spread around, and they were forced to sell the business and flee."

"Why? Were they in other trouble?" Curwe asked, turning the carriage down the street.

Akadil cocked an eyebrow, glancing over at her. "The Dominion rules strictly, to put it kindly. They do not take any unlawful activity - much less drugs - in stride. Such vocal and then prominent supporters linked to illegal activity would make them both look corrupt." He stared down the street. "Rather than suffer whatever punishment may have been in store for them - even though their guilt could not be conclusively proven - they fled, proving their guilt to the minds of those who had heard the rumor."

Curwe halted the horses in the yard. Turning to face him, she asked, "So why keep the original name of the business? Its not Akanil nor his sons heading it any longer."

"True," he replied, facing her. "However, it is still in the family. Akanil had a daughter that had become a mage and lived on the other side of the isle. She hadn't spoken to her father for years, so it was a surprize that she was the one who bought his shop."

"But why keep the name?" Curwe wanted to know.

"She hated Eldacar for always shooing her off his yard when she was a playful little girl, so she kept the name to spite him." He chuckled softly. "Now, I suppose it wouldn't matter."

Curwe laughed.

"But she knew that Eldacar could craft potions that others could not even imagine creating, so she always gave him that respect." Akadil continued. "Likely why she bought his alchemy supplies from you; trying to unlock his secrets."

Curwe leapt nimbly off the seat, and turned to Eldacar's home. "I doubt she will," she remarked, staring at the house. "His notes were sold to the Dominion." She turned to the lawyer, who stood next to the carriage. "Can you help me pack the cart?"

He turned and studied the pile of goods she intended on taking with her. It was not too big. Shouldn't take very long.

"Very well," he replied, as he helped her stack the boxes and bundles she would take back to that desolate cottage.