User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 91

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4th Era 171, 7th of Second Seed, Summerset Isles
That gave him pause. Save him? For what reason?

"Save me?" Akadil asked, surprised, before realizing what he might be being "saved" for. "No, thank you!" he exclaimed while hugging his knees tightly, angrily staring at the Elf's feet before him, not having the courage at the moment to look up into his face. "I will not be 'saved' from this storm, only to be brought to your King as some sort of plaything!"

The Maormer gave him a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look that he felt but didn't want to see. "Seriously? Of all the conclusions you could come to, you pick that one? I wasn't sent here by him, you idiot; I was sent here by Auriel."

That stopped his thoughts of his inevitable doom short. Auriel? "A-Auriel? You...you mean the god of t-time?" he asked haltingly, glancing up into the man's face.

He realized that the other Elf rolled his eyes, based on the movements of his eyelids. "Of course. There's hardly two gods of time, are there?" He placed his hands on his hips.

Akadil, who summoned courage from his commoner, 9 to 5 workday, five-days-a-work-week soul, studied the Sea Elf (which he had a hard time doing, as he was still more or less scared stiff), in case it was important, or remember who he was in the future if he ever saw him again (though he never wanted to; there was something off about him that he couldn't put his finger on). He was white skinned, like the white of a good quality pearl (without the shimmer, though), and wore some sort of sleeveless armor, gauntlets, and boots made from dully glimmering, purplish scales. He was lean but well muscled, suggesting he didn't sit at a desk, like he himself did for a living. Of course, how could you wear armor and not have muscles? It spoke of a whole different lifestyle. His shiny scarlet hair pooled onto his shoulders, and while the rest of his face was relatively delicately boned - like most Elves - the man's chin and jaw had some qualities like those of an Orc man, barring the tusks, of course. His eyes were blank, white, and appeared to have no iris or pupil, though that didn't seem to affect his sight any. All together, he appeared like any other Elf (aside from a kind not seen in centuries), though there was still that mystifying small echo when he spoke and that dim light that seemed to emanate from him that he couldn't seem to figure out...

"Now," the Maormer began, "Will you come with me? Auriel has asked me to guide you to safety. He has not told me why, but you must be important for something either now or in the future."

"But...won't I be safe here? In my basement?" Messenger of Auriel or not, he was still frightened of the Sea Elf, and didn't feel like going anywhere with him.

The other man shook his head. "No. The rain will start soon; your basement will flood and you will drown. Run outside, and you'll either burn, get hit by lightning, or your head smashed in by hail. Or even get sucked up into the clouds by the tornadoes. You'll not survive the fall, even if you do miraculously fall into a somehow intact tall haystack on the way down. Like it or not, I am your best chance for survival."

With that statement, the Maormer concluded his speech by reaching forward to grab for the frightened Altmer, who was scooting wide-eyed as far as he could cram himself into the corner.