Eliel took in a deep breath as he approached the large grey and black building, hand brushing the pillars as he walked to stand before the doors. He took a deep breath and opened them, obsidian hand spread wide on the mahogany. Even with his discomfort, and even fear, he could appreciate the temple. Veronna was not like the other gods and goddesses it seemed. Her temple had no great luxuries, or even an appearance that instilled awe like the other gods. Eliel recognized a sort of raw power in the building; the goddess needed no grand towers or any of the sorts to help her own image. She had enough skill with the blade to do that herself. The fact that she did not publically apply god powers and magic earned Eliel’s respect all by itself.

He entered the Temple and closed the heavy doors behind him, looking about with an uneasy smile. For a moment, he simply stood there, gathering himself for what he was going to do. Since his falling out with the drow and the spider deity Lolth, he had remained godless, only seeking out one god for help and was refused it. His anger led him to believe he was fine, that he was untouchable by any who wished him harm. Then he had nothing. No family, no allies. Then he was unknown. Since then, he had gained friends, a great feline companion, and a lover, to whom he was engaged. These things brought to light how much he lacked, how weak he truly was.

So now he sought to find the Goddess Veronna, to ask her to take him in, to teach him the ways of the blade that no mortal teacher could do. He was willing to set aside his pride and ask her. Now that he had his blade, something to swear by, something to even live by, he was willing to make an oath.

Eliel steeled himself and found the courtyard, walking up to the statue, and knelt down, drawing his scimitar from it’s decorated sheath with the soft slithering sound of metal on velvet. He turned it blade-down and set it’s tip on the ground, looking up to the statue.

“Goddess, I ask that you would take me as a trustworthy follower, one who wishes to learn, one whose faith is not easily earned. I swear by the blade in my hand, I give my oath of loyalty.” He said with a humble tone. He did not expect anything special to happen. He expected no special treatment, no grand spectacle. Just an audience with the goddess.

Life was changing for Veronna. Her child was growing up more and more, who was starting to take more interest in her mother. Her husband was on some adventure, seeking out new lands and treasure, though she knew he went for the thrill of adventure. And she was changing. She could feel something coming, and her body was adjusting to what she was assuming, a threat.

Sweat glistened on her skin. Her scimitars swung effortlessly through the air, the muscles in her arms flexing with the movements. Her feet were bare as they moved about the cold brick floor, in a pattern resembling that of a dance. Her hair was pulled away from her face where her eyes were closed in concentration, her white locks becoming shorter and shorter but were still able to be tied up. The skirt she wore had long cuts in the sides to allow movement, which also revealed red tattoos of various designs on her legs and ending at her ankles. The top she wore was meant to give support in movement, the leather lacing in the back and sides, forming to her fit flawlessly. The top cut off slightly short at the bottom, exposing her stomach and more tattoos swirling across her stomach and back, around her exposed arms and neck.

She was aware that Vaoulrah was in the private training room watching her mother, taking in all the movements and calculating everything going on, watching the scimitars gleam in the torchlight. The child was now five, growing more then ever now, and becoming more curious and understanding much more. She even had her own practice wooden weapon designed by her mother.

A presence entered the temple. Veronna was immediately aware of this, for she knew anyone and anything that went on in or around the temple. She slowed her practice until she finally came to a halt, ending the dance and letting her arms rest at her side, the scimitars resting lightly in her hands. Her eyes remained shut as she listened to this man call out to her, praying to her. She could pretty much see the man kneeling in front of a statue of her, his blade drawn and his gaze looking up at the statue.

Veronna opened her eyes and looked over to her daughter her had her head cocked, a little confusion in her bright green eyes. She sheathed her scimitars and walked over to Vaoulrah. "Someone is here to see me. Why don't you practice while I'm downstairs?" She said, looking at the child and just realizing how much she really looked like herself. The five year old nodded, grabbing her wooden practice weapon, which was the size of a small dagger. Veronna smiled and walked out the door, knowing Vaoulrah would be safe, and if something did happen she would know.

Veronna descended the steps and made her way to the courtyard where her visitor waited. She opened the door that lead out, the warm breeze feeling pleasant against her skin. She walked a few paces, her feet enjoying the soft feeling of green grass between her toes. She stopped a few feet away from the man, who she now could ell was Dark Elf, like herself. "I do not put my trust in just anyone." She said, watching the Dark Elf. "Before you give an oath to someone whom you do not know, should you not see first, what they are like?" She asked.

Eliel looked up at Veronna and lowered his head in respect. He had expected these words. From what he had heard, She was not as easily trusting as the other deities, but he would not run away from her. “Mistress Darkblade. I fully understand this. I cannot tell you that I can be trusted and expect you to do so without even the slightest reason. I come here today because I realize how much I lack in the ability to fight and protect what I believe in. Before, I thought I was unbeatable, that nothing could get to me. But now I have something to protect, and realize how vulnerable I truly am. I come here to ask to be taken for training to help me protect those I love. I am not a rich man, and have little but my word to offer in return of such a gift, should you choose to trust me.” Eliel looked her in the eye, there was no challenge there, but the respect he held for the goddess was visible.

“As for my oath, I have heard much about you. From what I understand, you are a hard teacher. I expect this and nothing else. I wish no mortal teacher who would lower the difficulty of his training for my comfort. If I want to be a warrior, I need to be able to face anything. You are a physical god, one who solves things by the blade, where so many others would simply win with a flick of the wrist. I respect you for that as well.” He lowered his head in a light bow once more.

“If you will have me, I give my word to be a worthy student. If you refuse my oath and ask me to leave, then I shall.” Eliel quieted himself then. This was possibly one of the hardest decisions he had made since choosing to forsake his drow heritage, leaving to lead a more respectful life. He had not told Silendra of his coming here. Never before had he sworn himself to any god of imythess, only choosing to do so now, when he saw his flaws.

Veronna listened to him explain why he was there, telling her how he was not as good as he thought. Most people, especially men, had a hard time admitting they were not good enough. It normally took something drastic to happen in their lives for them to come forward and ask for help. She did not look away, and when his eyes met her, she could see a respect there, one that was not false, and one that told her he would do anything to protect someone he loved. She guessed he was in love with someone, and Veronna knew exactly how it felt, wanting to protect to one you loved.

She let a smile on her lips when he said that he had heard that she was a hard teacher. She guessed it was probably true. She could never tell if she was being too hard or not, what matter to her was the person she was training, and if they were progressing in their abilities. She watched as the dark elf before her fell silent, leaving his fate in her hands. She did not move for a moment, thinking. She knew this elf would do anything to reach his goal, he had made that obvious. But would he continue to follow after he had reached that goal?

"What you ask of me, will take most of your time, and your life must be dedicated to the blade. You must put your life on hold until your training is complete. Those you love must understand that the blade must come before them, until you are ready to protect them with the knowledge you will learn inside of these walls." Her red eyes were looking at him, showing that she was not kidding about his life having to be dedicated to the blade. Though Veronna had never sworn an oath to anyone, she had told herself she would be the best, and had worked and trained until she met her goal, and being a goddess was only a side bonus compared to what she had received from her life dedicated to the blade.

"Do you still wish to learn? Do you wish to truly protect those you love? Are you willing to go to any length to learn and train yourself in to superior physical shape?" She asked all these questions together, one after the other, as she drew one of her scimitars from their scabbards. "If yes, then let me see your hand." She outstretched her free hand, waiting to see what he would choose. Some would be intimidated by the questions she had asked, and what it meant to dedicate your life to the blade.

Eliel remained silent. The goddess had not spoken during his speech. He did not know how to take it, was it bad, or was she merely listening, considering his offer of service, body and mind. Eliel thought he saw a smile on her face, but he couldn't be sure. He was about to give up right there. He was nearly one of the best swordsmen of Imythess, and no mortal he knew could teach him to join their ranks. Eliel bit his lip, drawing blood. The warrior did not flinch as his teeth broke the soft skin of his lip. He showed no pain. The drow had long ago realized pain was merely a notification. He had even learned to find pleasure in the feeling.

Eliel looked at her curiously, nervously. She was silent, but then spoke. She was giving him the rules! Did this mean she accepted? Eliel's heart skipped a beat. He thought about it. Silendra could take shelter in his home if anything went wrong, He had proclaimed it as neutral territory, where no fights were to be had. Besides, if anybody decided to disobey him, Gwen could delay the man long enough for Eliel to get there. But he couldn't, if his training were to be finished. So many decisions. Eliel had no naive hopes of peace after learning the blade. He would be challenged, perhaps even every week.

“If yes, then let me see your hand.” The goddess said.

When she drew her blades, Eliel flinched a little. Any sane man or woman would when the goddess drew blades, especially if her attention was on you. Eliel stared at her eyes trustingly and clenched his fist to his side. After a few seconds, his hand opened and he outstretched his right arm, palm-up.

“I accept.” Eliel stated clearly, focused on the goddess.

Veronna had seen Eliel flinch when her blade was drawn, but knew it was because he realized her power, and that when one of her swords were drawn it was not to be taken lightly. She saw him take a few seconds to consider her offer, her hand unmoving as she waited for his decision. When he outstretched his hand, she took hold of it in her left hand, keeping his palm up and brought her scimitar around to bare down on it and stopped only an inch away from his hand.

"This blood you are about to give, represents the pain you will go through. The suffering that comes from the path of the warrior. It will forever bind you to me. It is a connection that only a few know, and not something to be taken lightly." As she said this, she slid the blade across the palm of his hand, making a cut which blood could easily flow from. She slid the entire length of the blade across his hand, but not making to cut any deeper then necessary.

She pulled the blade away from his hand, his blood on the blade visible, before it seemed to have been somehow absorbed in to the weapon. Veronna's attention was on the blade for only second before her gaze went back to Eliel. She still held his hand, and rubbed her thumb over the wound which healed up instantly.

Her gaze went up to look him in the face, her red eyes unmoving. "Now draw the blade which you use the most." She commanded. She sheathed her weapon in one smooth movement, the blade easily sliding back in to it's scabbard.

(Short I know...That's what I get more not posting more often.)

Eliel tightened his jaw as she drew her blade across his hand, accepting the wound willingly. He listened to her words, accepting them as well, not nodding or speaking, but understanding and approving all the same. The drow looked as she drew the blade across, feeling the pain. He watched the blood absorbed into the blade and paid it no mind.

Her thumb healed his wound, and he nodded lightly. He knew she would not let him bleed, to become weaker and lightheaded. Eliel allowed himself a small smile in this serious time. She sheathed her blade and looked him in the face.

Eliel's hand moved down to the scimitar, pulling it free of it's sheath. The black blade gleamed in the sunlight, showing clearly the serrated back. The small ebony snake on the handle shining dully, a work of the drow. It was a simple decoration, but brought much to the beauty of the blade. The drow would not have worked as hard on the snake as they would a spider, but nonetheless, it was a beauty carved too delicately for human hands.

His gaze was drawn back to Veronna, a look of complete respect and willingness to follow any order she would set upon him. She was now his master, mentor, his god. Where he had never worshipped any god before, He saw veronna as the most deserving of any worship.

Veronna could see the respect Eliel now held for her, and she knew coming here most have been the hardest thing for him to do. She guessed he must have come from the Dark Lands, and she knew how the Dark Elves forced their goddess upon all who were born in the city. She resented the Dark Elves, and she had never pledged to serve another god again. That was why it was so different for her to be worshiped, but because of her background, it helped her understand a lot about people, and why most did not wish to serve a Deity.

She watched as he pulled a scimitar from a scabbard at his side, the blade was black, and held the beauty of a sword that came from the Dark Lands, like her own. She reached out her left hand and lowered his blade onto her right palm. She slid the weapon across her palm until it broke skin and did the same with her other hand. She placed her hands on either of the flat sides of the blade towards the hilt of the weapon. The blood which had built up on her palms being transferred to the blade. She removed her hands and the blood remained there for a moment before sinking in to the blade like what happened with her scimitar, except this time, it formed a shape before sinking in. Even after the blood sank away, the symbol was still there; two scimitars crossed with a long sword down the middle. Anyone in Taras, and almost every warrior would recognize the symbol as Veronna's.

"Your scimitar is now indestructible, short of a another gods power. It will never go dull, and will forever serve you until the end, however it may come." She explained, stepping away from him. "You may call me when ever you need my help, and I shall grant you strength. I will be the one to allow you to live through each battle you face, everyday. And once your training is done here, you will be a true warrior." Once done with her speech she let a smile on to her lips, one pleased to have this man in the ranks of her chosen.

Eliel watched with enormous interest as the goddess broke her own skin, placing her bloody palms on his blade. Eliel smiled as she drew her hands away, seeing the shape now stained on the blade by the blood of a goddess. Even before she spoke, he could feel the power such a ritual had given the blade.

When she explained the scimitar's new power, his smile only grew. Such a gift was immense, more so than could be given by mortal hands. He imagined what he could accomplish with the goddess on his side, teaching him things he had not known previously, teaching him ways to fight he could not think of. For the blademaster, this was a very big deal.

Eliel listened to her until the end, heart lifted. She would assist him in time of need, something he had not expected of any celestial. Already, Veronna had given him gifts that only a true warrior could appreciate. Eliel nodded.

“I thank you, Veronna, for your acceptance and your gifts. I promise you,. You will not regret your choice. I will perform any task you wish me to within my power. I will prove myself valuable in times to come.” He said solidly.

He was a chosen of the goddess of blades. He felt unbeatable. But the feeling was wiped away by common sense, such a feeling could lead to one's demise, cloudy vision of the ways you could be defeated give those ways a better chance to occur. Still, there was hope.