“Sevrina, I believe you should be my next choice. Would you do me the honor?” I asked.
“Yes, Master.” Sevrina accepted, extending her hand. “The honor would be all mine.”
She pranced over to the rest of my new matrons-to-be. Now there were five of seven selected. Just two left to be selected now.
I tried again to put Zanantha and Ulamir’s absence from my mind and just get on with the task at hand, but it was hard.
I began walking among the maidens again. I was struggling again to find that little thread of… whatever it was. And I wondered, how was I supposed to pick if it wasn’t telling me?
Elves didn’t exactly seem to care about love, or at least marrying and having children out of love. While I believe my matrons all were quite happy with the way things were turning out for them, if I hadn’t been here and another master had asked, I had no reason to believe they wouldn’t have just as happily born another master’s children. The instinctual desire for motherhood just seemed to be incredibly strong in the elven females, maidens, or matrons.
That left me to figure out what I really wanted. I didn’t exactly have a great history with relationships. I wasn’t sure what ‘love’ really felt like, or was since every fucking description was so vague and nonsensical I gave up. The closest I got was being told that the emotional attachment I got to my team members and the civilians we worked closely with, helping and working with them… that was love. I’d felt something from my matrons before, a sense of attachment, desire, adoration, and pride, I guess I’ve been calling that love. Was that really what it was?
Then there were people who said that there were a bunch of different kinds or types of love. Like people who were really into coffee. Tell a coffee lover that all coffee is the same and they’ll either be so affronted that they can hardly speak, or they will proceed to give you a twelve-hour lecture about how beans from the highest mountains in Indonesia are distilled from the teats of angels and worth more than their weight in gold… or some such bullshit. To me, caffeine was caffeine, and I had just enough ADD (ADHD…? I don’t know, science keeps changing its mind about ADHD) that caffeine relaxed me more than woke me and gave me energy, so I didn’t even care for caffeine in general…
Sorry, I was talking about love.
I figured I loved my matrons… or at least I loved how it felt to be with them and make love to them. I guess anyone I was willing to die for was some kind of love and I was happily putting my life at risk fighting Kathra and her shadow elf army. I guess that had been enough for me up until this point, but…
If there was any reason to choose a new matron without one of the strange threads of fate, or whatever they were, it should be for love, right? I mean, all of my other matrons, while I loved them, they all seemed to have a purpose. Tavorwen was my captain, my squad leader, leading seemed to come easily to her, and the other battle matrons, and maidens, respected her. Creadean seemed to be skilled in many useful specialties, including stealth, tracking and finding food, and living off the land. Narusil was a battle mage, skilled in destructive magics and her interjection magic had already saved my life once. Diamiutar was our main chef and managed my house. Lumarith was an enchanter, strengthening the magical protections on my home, and I’d heard rumblings about her making new clothes and such for me with better enchantments than the standardly allotted kit. From what I’d gathered, Heilantu was a skilled healer, which I’d likely have to call on eventually. The odds of me winning this war against Kathra without so much as a scratch were slim. Then there were my new Matrons, Risivis was a scout, Anbethir and Flendreir were teaching me blade work, and Nauveir was a highly skilled archer. If Sevrina was a mage like I suspected, then she could step in and fill Narusil’s spot while she was being restricted to the house due to carrying my son.
I almost stopped when I noticed another one of those guiding threads. My musing could wait… though it wouldn’t take long, once I found one of these, it had never taken me long to find the maiden it led to.
And there she was. She was definitely a cutie. The agelessness of the elves gave them a mostly youthful appearance, and while for some of them that became a source of sultry sexiness, this elf had the cute charm of youth instead. She was on the short side of things, probably four foot seven or eight inches. Yeah, four foot eight. Her hair was light blond with hints of red, and her eyes were a tender honey brown. Her dress was an intriguing black, with silver lace and red ribbons, kind of reminding me of the goth girl that used to hang out at the malls minus the dyed hair or the goth lolitas I had seen in Japan during one of my deployments. The black skirts were composed of a waterfall of layers of thin strips of black transparent fabric, thin enough lower to show off her delicate and graceful legs, only thick enough to block sight probably halfway up her thighs. The top of her dress wrapped around her body, up across her stomach, covering one breast, then behind her shoulder, wrapping around the front of her neck like a collar, then mirroring around her other shoulder, over her other breast, and down to the waist where it blended into the skirts.
Her face paled when she realized I was stopped directly in front of her.
“Master… I am not…” She started.
“What is your name, maiden?” I asked.
I liked the term ‘maiden’. It sounded sweet and innocent while bringing to mind knights in shining armor… though the closest I got was the sheen of my leather.
“Mavrin…” She started with some hesitancy before finishing her name. “… Mavrin Spiritbreaker.”
Spiritbreaker? That seemed like a strange name.
“Master… I am not a good choice.” She insisted. “I should not have come.”
“And why are you not a good choice?” I demanded.
“Master… my greatest talent… is dark magic. It is dangerous magic and can… corrupt its users.” She admitted. “But the only other magics I am talented in are illusions and… domination magic. All I can claim are the three ‘cursed’ branches of magic.”
Her gaze was fixed on her sandal feet as she tried to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.
I blinked in confusion, then the realization hit me. Illusion magic was… entertainment magic, distraction magic at best, so probably viewed as mostly useless. Domination magic was the magic of mind control, and was likely frowned upon as ‘tyrannical’. Dark magic was obviously, well, dark or evil. Driveal had said it was the power of death and undeath. I could see how that would be frowned upon.
In a flash, I realized the truth of her dress. Where most of these maidens were dressed to appeal for sex, she was dressed as a warning. The collar-like wrap around her neck, the smoke-like skirts, and how it looked like her dress was binding her, or strangling her. She was a walking red flag.
So why was I led to her?
In a moment, the answer came to me. Who did you call when there was a problem with a bomb? You called an explosives expert. You called a specialist to deal with chemical compounds or poisons. What better counter for the dark magic I had no doubt that Kathra would employ than a mage who understood dark magic?
“And that is precisely why I need you,” I told her. “I need someone who understands the tools Kathra will use. If you’ll accept, I’d be honored to have you.”
I offered her the second to last bracelet, and her eyes locked onto it and her mouth fell slightly open. A murmur went through the assembly.
“Are you certain…?” She breathed, unable to tear her eyes from the band I offered.
“Absolutely,” I assured her.
She tentatively extended her right hand, as though waiting for me to pull it away, but when I settled the band on her wrist, she cradled it protectively to her chest, tears in her eyes.
“I shall strive to be worthy.” She breathed, then quickly gave a kiss on my cheek and almost ran to the other chosen maidens.
Tavorwen gave me a curious look but welcomed the young she-elf.
I resumed my hunt, one final matron to find.
Hopes were high and I could tell tension among the gathered maidens. I circled and wandered the maidens three times, waiting for a final thread.
After my third circuit, Tavorwen motioned me over.
“Is something wrong? Do the maidens not appeal?” She pressed.
“No… They are all gorgeous.” I replied quietly. “It’s just… Well, I’ve been… led… to everyone else. Like the gods, or someone, wants me to choose them. I’ve been trying to figure out who they want for this last bracelet, but… I’m getting nothing.”
“Then you are free to choose the maiden that pleases your eye the most,” Tavorwen suggested with a shrug.
“But they are all fucking gorgeous! How am I supposed to choose?!” I whispered.
Tavorwen smiled in amusement. “Was that supposed to be too quiet to hear? You underestimate elven hearing.”
A quick glance over my shoulder revealed many of the maidens blushing.
“Shit.” I groaned under my breath. “Is there a reason they are all just standing still? Not a word from any of them.”
Gledril chuckled. “Maidens have been known to be… dramatic… when seeking the attention of a master. For this purpose, any maidens who arrive after the appointed time are not allowed entrance to the Congress. Strict rules regulate things like the minimum amount that must be covered by their dresses, and to avoid… inappropriate declarations and offers to the master, they are not to speak unless spoken to, and must maintain a relaxed pose. If they were to go against these rules, it would result in their expulsion from the Congress.”