My Final Hours, Part II

• Posted by BakaPenguin October 31, 2011 - 816 views

  My thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of golden skinned man before me. The pointed spears of his ears--which just managed to poke out through his tangled, dark hair--belied his bosmer heritage. He stood there and his eyes seemed to penetrate through me, as if he wasn't actually looking at me.

  "Can I help you, friend?" I inquired with a tilt of my head. He just continued to stand there looking through, rather than at, me. Had I not been deep in thought, I might have been amused. As it was, I was irritated by the riddle in my dreams and this enigmatic elf wasn't helping my mood. My hand had slid slowly, yet deliberately, to the steel dagger at my waist.

  "Look, sir, I had a rough night and a shit morning. If you haven't anything to say, be gone!" My voice rose a tad louder than I had intended, drawing stares from the handful of patrons at the bar.
  Suddenly, the bosmer's expression shifted from blank nothingness to recognition. He blinked, rapidly, and then smiled.

  "Good day," he began, "please call me Jakk."

  "Ok, Jakk, why are you staring at me?" I asked, letting my voice ring with irritation. At first, the question seemed to perplex him, then he shook his head and bent low to whisper.

  "He watches, Mr. Lowgal." I shot up from my chair, knocking it over, and grabbed the elf's tunic near the collar. I brought my face close to his and stared directly into his bright green eyes.

  "What," my voice a cold, hard whisper, "did you say?"

  "He knows where you are. He can see, hear and feel you. It wont be much longer." His expression never wavered, he just stood his ground smiling. I took a second to glance around the small room. I could have been invisible for all the other patrons seemed to care since my initial outburst. Letting go of his, now rumpled, tunic collar I took a step back. I grabbed the hilt of my short, slender blade and lifted slightly from it's sheath.

  "If this is a threat--"

  "No, sir! No, threat at all. Merely a statement of fact. Please, do not kill the messenger." He said, though he was not the least bit frightened by the sight of the cold steel.

  "I'd like to finish my breakfast without company. If you wouldn't mind?"

  "Of course," he started, "but do yourself a favor and meet me at the mouth of the alley near the blacksmith." With that, he turned on his heels and walked briskly out the door. I followed close to say one more thing, but as I looked out the door he was not to be seen in the street. I shrugged and turned back to my table.