Chapter 35
Ciel’nn shifted in the guard’s armor. It smelled bad! It was too big for him to wear, but he had no choice in the matter. He had escorted Celani to Neo Davon’ temple and waited outside, watching the people going in and out. His thoughts spiraled around the girl. She had been nice and stern enough to keep his focus on the road, and taught a few things of how Indoril guards should behave. Ciel’nn had done his best to keep them both safe. Only a couple of road bandits tried their luck and met their ends on Ciel’nn’s blade.
The Bear-head warrior took his last breaths before his eyes closed and died. Without a word, Ciel’nn stood up and cleaned his usual dagger. He had watched the man die slowly, listened to his last gasps, his moans and saw fear in those used-to-be eyes before darkness took him and his friends. The Dunmer’s eyes swept the battlefield; six men lay dead; four of them were killed by Ciel’nn and the other two were laid to rest by the young warrior.
“Someone should really go and find where these men came from.” The Nord commented as he holstered his sword onto his belt, and turned to the Dunmer, who flashed a dark smirk. Rangalen sighed inwardly. It’s dark, but at least he smirks. The Dunmer hadn’t laughed, or showed any joyful emotion since the comeback. He had talked a little, so Rangalen hoped it would turn out for the better.
“The people are lazy and cowards.” Ciel’nn replied, putting his dagger back in its place. “I wouldn’t wonder if they are to fall.” He added in a dark tone as he looked to the Nord. The young warrior was still all good-hearted and soft. His misty blue eyes stared at him, shocked. A thought crossed his mind, but he hid it.
“Maybe the Companions -” Rangalen tried to offer. He tried to shake off the feeling the Dunmer gave him, but it latched to him like a blood-sucking maggot. The slowly showing change of his friend had made him feel the creeps. He had hoped it would shift off and found coping for Ciel’nn’s change harder than expected.
“I’d sincerely doubt it.” Ciel’nn lowered his rough voice in a finality. He observed the almost miserable look shift across the Nord’s face. “Do you remember the puzzle about coming legends? I don’t think that’ll help either.” Honestly, he didn’t care anymore. If Skyrim was to fall into darkness, then so be it. It wasn’t his home, never was. The Dunmer had felt something calling him to go home, back to Morrowind. Ciel’nn wanted to almost give in and leave, but there were things that kept him from going. The Civil War was still in its full bloom, but it wouldn’t be a problem. No, on the other hand was… Tellik. The Dunmer hadn’t forgotten the brutish Nord, who to be killed. The last thing was to visit at the Shrine of Azura. The order of those things didn’t matter - they just needed to be done.
Rangalen frowned as he saw his friend deep in thought. He knew better not to pry; he didn’t even know if Ciel’nn wanted to share his thoughts these days. The area near Darkwater Crossing where the Bear-head warriors had attacked seemed to calm down and the miners came to loot anything useful. The young warrior looked at them briefly, wondering how long the common folk would survive if this kept happening. Rangalen remembered the puzzle of legends and he recalled they hadn’t seen any legend rising up to the task of taking care of the brutish warriors. It made him sulk. Maybe it was foolish even to hope.
“Are you coming?” The Dunmer asked after a while. He had watched the Nord thinking for the common folk as usual. It didn’t take a lot to figure it out. Shouldn’t worry for others while you can die on any day now. Ciel’nn felt he’d say something, but remained quiet. Hopefully, one day the young warrior will learn the hardship of life. They needed to get going for Sarade had given them a task to find her master ranger of Whiterun. Their trip had been interrupted by an attack, again. The Dunmer hadn’t minded it, though.
Fort Amol had fallen into the hands of the Bear-head warriors, and Ciel’nn counted ten men outside. Brooding he turned to the camp that was set up nearby at the small pond. The young warrior had set a small campfire and the Dunmer sat down, opposite the man. “They have ten men outside.” He said as he took an apple from his backpack. It made him a bit gloomy because they wouldn’t beat the warriors. He assumed the fort itself had plenty more of them. With a sigh, Ciel’nn took a bite of the apple while his eyes reflected the tiny flames in the campfire.
“It’s more than our share of a fight.” The young warrior nodded. “I have to admit - it really ticks me off when we can’t fight that many. Maybe if we had many poison bottles.” He mused and took a sip of Honning Brew mead. Ciel’nn raising his brow didn’t escape him. A raised brow was followed by a sinister grin that still made the young warrior feel chills - he shivered slightly. “Ah, you almost think like me.” He heard the Dunmer purring. Rangalen chuckled and put more twigs in the campfire. “Do you think that the Valtheim Towers are occupied by them?”
“Probably.” Ciel’nn replied.”I hope they are.” He added in a low tone, and looked at the enchanted dagger in his hands as his features softened slightly. “Is that a special dagger?” He heard Rangalen asking him. The Dunmer remained quiet for a while, his fingers tracing the blade. He couldn’t use the chitin dagger anymore. It served now as a memento of the past. Finding a new dagger would be a tricky thing. Add that to the list to do. “It’s the dagger my cousin gave me.” His voice was quiet. “It also has my mother’s soul in it… They made me to choose. You know where.” Ciel’nn wasn’t going to explain any further. Let the Nord think of what he will.
It contains his mother’s soul?! The young warrior found it hard to swallow. He didn’t want to think of the other possible choices. Damned Daedra and Oblivion! He’d go there and slay every Daedra and Daedric Prince he’d encounter there! But… the cold fact was he was only a mortal man - he had no such powers. “I’m sorry, Ciel’nn. I wish I could have done more.”
“You have done your best.” Ciel’nn’s whisper came. Even if I didn’t ask you to - still you did it, and I appreciate it. “Better live without getting their attention.”
The young warrior looked to his friend. “How did you then..?” He asked carefully.
“A wrong decision.” Ciel’nn scowled and put his dagger away. To his relief, the young warrior didn’t ask for more. He wouldn’t know even how to begin. There were things he regretted and he wanted to forget them. Also, the Dunmer needed to tell his friend that he was planning to leave Skyrim at some point.
The night was uneventful with Ciel’nn taking the night watch and Rangalen trying to sleep. Even if the Dunmer was back and alive - the event with the Dremora Lord still haunted the young warrior. It was like the creature of Oblivion had got him by his mind. He shivered under the fur blanket and tried to shake it off.
Ciel’nn leaned against the pine tree, playing with his secondary killing dagger while he had his brooding eyes gazing towards Fort Amol. It was almost like he was waiting for a target to move to its position. He wasn’t bloodthirsty, but he wanted to sneak into the fort and leave a body, or two. It was quiet and he could even if a fox would sneak by. This had become his new habit that he did whenever it was possible. The red eyes turned to the sleeping Nord and Ciel’nn smiled darkly as he took a breath. Somewhere a wolf pack howled. It would be some hours till dawn.
The Dunmer narrowed his eyes as something caught his attention; the mist was landing.
Back to ToC
Comments
...in some countries.
...in some countries.