Chapter 11: Drinking Again
The roads were empty as most travelers had returned to cities after news of the Sack of Whiterun spread. As I drove the cart up towards the gates of Solitude I was greeted by a guard making sure the cart was not a concealing rebels.
“I take it you knew her… I’m sorry.” He said as he lifted a canvas I had draped over Erissa’s body in the back.
I drove the cart to the stables and dismounted, grabbing the cradle as I climbed down.
“Need help getting her to the Priest of Arkay?” A stable hand asked.
“Yes… Please.” I said in a voice broken by sorrow.
We carried her body into the city just in time to witness an execution.
“Kill the traitor!” People chanted as they threw objects, mostly food, at the prisoner. He was decapitated, his head placed on a spike, his body thrown to the crowd.
We walked through the city filled with people panicking and trying to escape Skyrim. The commercial boat stalls had sold every ticket and people were frantically trying to find other ways to leave the hold.
We walked into the Hall of the Dead.
“Styrr, we've got another one.” The stable hand called out.
An Altmer walked out from a side hall. His hair had turned gray with age.
“Oh dear. How unfortunate. The Sacking, I take it?”
I nodded, biting my lip.
“Oh my… these marks indicate hanging. Oh my, I am truly very sorry, my boy.”
“Can you make it Altmeri?” I asked abruptly.
“What? The funeral? Of course. I get to work with the preserving oils.” He took her body from me and he and the stable boy brought her into the back room. I sighed and walked back outside, taking the cradle from around my elbow into my hand.
“What can I do now, boys?” I asked gently.
You and your brother began to cry.
“Shh. Don't cry, Tandano. It's okay.” I said, slowly rocking you back to sleep.
What was I to do with you? I could never take care of twins in the state I was in, so I asked the Priest if he would take care of you for a few days.
I walked to the nearest inn and bought as much mead as I could afford and took it down to the docks.
I sat on the edge of the pier, listening as the waves lapped against the wooden structures. I popped open the first bottle and took a large swig.
The water was so peaceful, so welcoming. The more I stared at my reflection the more I wanted to slip into the sea, never to be seen again.
I sat there for about an hour, drinking, until another person sat beside me.
“I'm sorry about Erissa”
I looked over and saw the Bosmer who had left me notes when I had first arrived in Skyrim.
“Why are you here?” I asked drunkenly.
“Oh, I can almost taste the mead on your breath.”
“Don't look at me like that. It'sh the only thing keepin’ me alive.”
“Well technically…”
“I don't give a damn what you think. Just go back to your ruinsh.
“The College needs you. The Psijics have foreseen it.”
“The Psijics can burn in Oblivion.”
The Bosmer slammed his fist on the wooden planks.
“This is important and I will not let Nirn be destroyed because you're too drunk to care!”
“I ain’t leaving ‘till her funeral is held.”
“Damnit. How long will that be?”
“I dunno; few weeks?”
He pulled a stone from his pouch. Strange whispers began to emanate from it.
“Hold this.”
“Huh?”
He threw it in my lap and I instantly had a vision.
Ancano was standing in his office writing in a small book.
“Almost there… just a few more days until I can release the true power of the Eye.” He said to someone in a part of the room I couldn't see.
“Do you need anything, sir?”
“No. You're dismissed.”
The vision faded.
“And *hic* I care why?”
“Y’ffre curse you! He's threatening all of Nirn with this!”
I opened another bottle.
“You know how damn close I am to drowning meshelf? I couldn't give a Skeever’s arse about that sonofa bitch.”
“Ugh. Gimme that.” He took the bottle from me and took a large swig himself.
“Will you come back to Winterhold or not?”
“Nope.”
I opened a bottle for myself as it was clear I wasn't getting the other back.
We sat in silence, drinking. The two lonely Mer. Eventually, the Bosmer stood up and left me to my thoughts, my memories.
I got up myself and stumbled back to the Hall of the Dead. I lay down on a bench in the front room and fell slowly to sleep.
I was shaken awake early in the morning.
“Drinking won’t bring her back, my boy.”
“Oh Gods, my head is killing me.”
“Heh, that is the God’s way of telling you to stop with the alcohol.”
I sat up and stretched.
“Now then, the oils have been applied. If you want to have it full Altmeri that will take another two weeks with the internal preservation, or we could simply do it now.”
I thought back to the conversation on the docks. It had turned very hazy and I honestly wasn't sure if it was even real.
“Let's get it over with.”
“As you wish. I shall prepare her burial space.”
He came back a while later and handed me a cup.
“This should help with the headache.”
“Thank you.”
The contents of the glass was a vile goop, but I drank it anyway.
He lead me into a large room with a large wooden platform built in the center. Erissa’s body was lain on top.
The Priest lit a candle and placed in a wooden carving of an Eagle; the symbol of Auri-El. As the carving began to smoke, he tuned to me.
“Do you wish to light it?”
“Yes.”
I took the statue and said my silent prayers to Auri-El as I placed the statue at her cold, colorless feet and watched as the inferno engulfed the pyre.
The old man put his hand on my shoulder as I wept, the two of us staring into the blaze.
Comments
About the whole Sunlight vs. Fire thing, that really is a weird thing. I guess fire is as close as you can ... more
There's some great emotions here Accursed. Well written.
Nicely done.