Darkness, My Friend.

• Posted by Batman February 22, 2012 - 1,014 views

  Crunch!

  The snow makes a deafening noise as my boots sink ankle deep bracing my landing. Grimacing at the unwanted sound I gently extract my feet from the glistening white slush, trying to keep all sounds to a minimum. Staying in my predatory crouch I begin to slink away from the rough wooded building, the shadow it casts I’m using to hide my exit is still chilling despite the sun on the horizon. Quick as a thought, quiet as a whispered secret I make my way out of the civilized trappings that mark the borders of the sentients and the riffraff. I amuse myself for a while with the notion that if I am not of the sentient side of the border does that make me part of the riffraff? This train of thought lasts me until I am finally clear and I ease out of my crouch and into a steady lope that will carry me all the way home.

  Home, I give a snort of derision as I open my door. The petty villagers would think it abhorrent, I find it quaint.  Are there not chairs, a table, bed and fireplace? Would you not find these among their possessions? I have many, many books upon my shelves. Does this not make me just as if not more so learned then them? Is really the distance between our dwellings count for so much in social acceptance?

  I shake my head in aggravation; I am in a morose mood today. The day is dawning for the rest of the world but I am ready to retire to sleep. Placing the well-crafted leather satchel on my table, its contents making a mischievous melody as they resettled has me smiling as I lay down upon my bed and close my eyes to the world.

  The tense atmosphere hits me like a physical blow as soon as I enter the marketplace of Windhelm. For one who is rather the watcher then the watched, the sensation is unnerving. I can feel their eyes upon me but years of practice have me playing ignorance to their stares as I continue into the centre of the stone courtyard. I head straight for Aval Atheron, a Discerning Dunmer, which makes me thank the deep fur hood that covers most of my face in the fading light of dusk. I make my purchases quickly as the presence of the eyes is quickly working away at my calm façade while my innards squirm as though they live out of sync with the rest of me. I fear the townsfolk have finally caught on to my nocturnal activities within their walls, though my mind screams denial. I have been at this too long to have made a mistake now. Or is that perhaps the reason I have made a mistake? Have I become too confident in my abilities, lax in my caution? I quickly run back through the last couple of days…no, it simply cannot be. There are no mistakes at least on my part.

  I start badly as I realise I have been still for minutes too long past that of normal. Taking a deep breath I re-adjust the wicker basket that rests on my arm now laden with my purchases. Pasting a hesitant smile upon my face, trying to match the feelings of those around me I head for the next stall over. Hellevi Cruel-Sea is in the midst of closing down her stall when I make it to the counter. Her actions slow and finally stop when she comes to the conclusion that I wish to converse with her. Keeping my voice low I let a little of my fear leak into it as I ask what has everyone so grim and tense.

  Though it is difficult to let even that much weakness show, I have spent many years of my life under the motto that confidence will always be your key to success I believe it will only get me into more trouble, better to be one of the cows then the wolf lurking in their herd. A million and one scenarios and solutions run with complete abandon in my mind in the space between one breath and the next as I wait for my answer. I barely control the urge to close my eyes with relief as I finally get my answer. A murdered girl was found beaten and bloody across a grave in the courtyard outside of the hall of the dead. No mention is made of my thieving ways, or any of my other activities. I quickly rein in my emotions; they would do me no good here only serve to give them the wrong idea. Control now, wait for home to celebrate. With my mind racing I start to think. The victim was a young woman it would only be right that I should also fear myself, especially given the fact that I live outside the town walls up in the hills no? Pulling just a bit more of my fear into being found out into my performance I voice these fears to Hellevi. I’ve always been able to persuade people to my way of thinking and with a bit of truth in it, it can be a most powerful thing. I watch carefully as my words wash over Hellevi changing her face from suspicious to sympathetic between one blink of her eyes to the next. Using the situation I set a harried but not-quite-a-run pace from the market area, I feel as the eyes one by one fall away from me as the news from Hellevi spreads. Once outside the outer limits of the sentry’s sight I pick up my hampering skirts and break into a run the wicker basket bouncing unheeded against my side. I suppose it would have been easier to pose as a warrior or mercenary their women wear pants and armour without stir, but a warrior is also liable to be called on to fight, which would negate my low profile.

  Reaching my home I flung open the door and tossed the basket carelessly in the direction of the table where it rocked to and fro before finally settling on its base having miraculously not spilled any of its contents. I was too jubilant to care, I was in the clear! I felt my blood sing with the victory of escape as I had not felt in ages. As I did a little dance in the middle of my room a small black cloud of doubt rolled in threatening to storm all over my parade.

  I couldn’t go back to Windhelm. I felt my face form into a frown at this thought. The towns’ people were sure to be on alert, their houses lit no matter the hour and that served no good will to my needs. Cursing that no good murderer to Shor’s dwelling for all time for spoiling my streak of good luck. I must confess I began to sulk. It had been quite a few years since my plans had been this unsettled perhaps it was a good thing. Time to move on to greener land as they say, at least I think that’s how it went.

  My moods were swinging like a pendulum on skooma but I didn’t care or at least I would have if I was paying attention. I began racing around the small area that was my home collecting various things it wasn’t until I reached my books that my mood began to swing the other way again. I didn’t want to leave my books they were like children to me. some neat and tidy others covered in stains and loose pages others fat, others thin but no matter which book they gave me their stories lovely as hugs or at least what I imagined hugs were like.

  I couldn’t choose amongst them. Giving up the task for now I finished the rest of my packing, it didn’t take long; when you live as I do you tend not to have much. I looked at the bookshelves again, my one guilty pleasure that was now like a noose around my neck. Scowling I finished the tie on second and last pack. Two bags to hold all I needed to move on. Setting them down near the door I placed the leather satchel I had filled the night before, its contents my source of comfort for this long trip. I’m thinking Solitude this time; I have yet to see the capital of Skyrim though I have lived here my entire life.

  I was startled out of my musings by a crunch of the snow outside my door. I frowned I must really be in my own thoughts not to hear anyone coming, sometimes my life depends on that hearing. Flowing into a hunting crouch I use while out in the wilds and in the city walls when I need to get around without being seen. Thanking the stars that I was distracted enough when I got home that I didn’t light the fire, it seems I prefer to live in the darkness. I moved through the abundant shadows that danced around my room in time to the moon and clouds outside. Sliding up to a window I peered out into the small yard. There was someone heading for the door! Never in all my time living here, had I ever had a visitor. Cautiously I watched as they approached the door stopping just yards away, I couldn’t tell who it was through the frost encrusted glass, though they had the bearing of a man, a large one at that, a hunter.

  Tendrils of real fear started to creep through my veins. Silent as a breeze I moved towards the door just as a light flared sun orange outside and the door buckled under a tremendous force. As I had guessed a man stood in the doorway. Tall as the frame and just a bit wider, he was made of pure muscle encased in sturdy iron, its dull grey turned a rusty brown in the light of the flare spell dancing on his fingers, a helm sat upon his head two large yellow stained horns jutted out the sides before curving down and around to the front. Piercing blue eyes landed on me as his other hand raised a brilliant silver sword. All this happened in a split of a second as if time itself had to slow down in his presence. Just as quickly the moment was over and the flare was suddenly coming at me. Flat to the ground I went as it shot over my head the smell of burnt ozone filling my nose as it exploded right into the heart of my book shelves. With a cry of grief and rage I was on my feet and leaping at the warrior. I knew he was an expert but I must have taken him by surprise with my speed for he fell beneath my momentum and we tumbled out of the blazing cottage and into the crisp snow. I landed on top my hands at his throat, but he didn’t move to throw me off. A quick glance at his eyes told me he was unconscious. Cursing him I returned my hands to his exposed neck ready to finish him off when one of the windows exploded, distracting me. I glanced back at my home as everything was going up in flames. Making a quick decision I left the warrior on the ground and raced back to the door snatching my bags just before the flames could eat them. Slinging them about my person I moved away from the inferno. Stepping back my heel hit something hard, looking down I found the silver sword in the snow. The warrior! Turning around wildly I came face to face with nothing but an empty yard the warrior nowhere in sight. Having nowhere to go but away, I took off into the forest as my children screamed their deaths to the air.

  Part Two: Darkness, My Enemy