The Aftermath | Chapter 2: The Villager

  • I woke up, not really sure where I was.

     

    "Uh..." I groaned.

    “Bah, you’re fine.” Said a voice. Morose.

     

    I then realized I was being carried by the brute, his face stoic, as always.

     

    "I-I guess?" I replied, rubbing my head. When I returned my hand to my side, I saw that my palm was coated with blood. “Great. Fantastic.”

    “You’re not dead.” Morose grumbled.

    “No, but I can walk.” I said.

     

    He didn’t reply. I put on a frustrated face and my cheeks grew hot, but I didn’t respond either.

     

    Before I knew it, we stood (well, rather, Morose stood) before the mass of rubble that used to be the College. Maybe the people in Winterhold are glad it’s gone, I thought. Maybe they destroyed it! Suddenly, I fell to the ground with a thump. Morose had dropped me, at last.

     

    I used that moment to take in my surroundings. My vision wasn’t blurry then, but honestly, I wished it was. I didn’t want to look anymore. But I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Outside, mages who had managed to survive were gathered around the ruins, arms around each other. I recognized Onmund, J’zargo, and Brelyna, along with some others that I couldn’t make out from my angle. It was not a surprise to me that those three had lived, given that they’re all quite spry on their feet. I did not, however, see Savos Aren, the Archmage. I feared the worst.

     

    Soon everything grew quiet. I sniffled, the cold making my nose run. Finally, I stood up, still in disbelief. I saw a villager turn towards me, short and stocky, his face suspicious.

     

    “Who are you?” he asked.

    “I’m Oren. Why?” I replied.

    “Haven’t seen you much ‘round these parts.” his brow furrowed in skepticism.

    “I live on the outskirts of town.” I pointed in the direction of my cottage.

    “You one of them magic-users?” he grumbled.

    “What’s it to you?” I snapped. More villagers began watching the scene.

    “How are we supposed t’ know,” he lumbered up to me and grabbed the collar of my robes. “that you didn't do this?”

    “Uh, I-uh, I was in my home when this all happened! How could I have-” I began, but was interrupted by Morose's large hand lunging over and grabbing the villager by the neck.

     

    "Don't speak to him that way." Morose snarled.

     

    The Nord's eyes bulged and his hands batted around frantically as he tried to pry himself from the demon's grip. Not surprisingly, this attempt was in vain. His face was turning an unnatural shade of blue. It was disgusting, really.

     

    "Morose, stop." I ordered.

     

    He hesitated, but eventually let go of the man. He staggered back, held his neck in pain and gasped to refill his lungs with air.

     

    "What... Are you?!" the villager sputtered, pointing a finger at Morose.

    "What in Talos' name is going on here?" shouted an angry voice. The Jarl!

    "Jarl, I can explain!" I said.

    "That won't be necessary." he growled.

    "But-" I was appalled. He probably thought caused this!

    "Leave our town now or I won't hesitate to send the guards after you. Go." ordered the Jarl.

    "You're not even going to question me, o-or anything?" I stuttered. "Can I at least pack something?"

     

    The Jarl kept pointing out of the city. I knew what that meant. I walked slowly out of the town, shoulders slumped, Morose by my side. The weather just got worse, not better. Where are we going to go? We can't just stay out here forever.

     

    "Why did you do that?" I asked Morose after minutes of silence.

    "What?" he replied.

    "You almost strangled a guy to death!" my voice grew shrill.

    "He was a threat."

    "So is literally EVERYONE in Winterhold." I countered.

    "I don't regret my choice. I had to eliminate him." he grumbled.

    "Are you even capable of feeling such a complex emotion?" I sassed. "Look at our situation right now! This is horrible! We're broke and we have nowhere to go! Not to mention how I'm about to die of hypothermia out here!"

    "Mortals. Pfft. Ungrateful. I saved your life. You know very well that villager would have beaten you into a bloody pulp before you even knew what was happening." Morose said grimly.

     

    I crossed my arms and twisted my face into a stubborn frown. He was right, and I knew it.

    We walked in silence for the next few hours.

     

Comments

5 Comments
  • Xeelus
    Xeelus   ·  September 12, 2015
    @Idesto I see you've started reading now! I'll have to repay the favor haha. If Morose is anything, it's loyal! =P
  • Idesto a'Shinbira
    Idesto a'Shinbira   ·  September 12, 2015
    The plot thickens! At least Oren has a loyal badass Dremora on his side
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  June 22, 2015
    I have this problem. What I do is delete an empty line between each paragrph.
    That usualy does the trick.
    Morose has a great personality, thi sis gonna get interesting.
  • Xeelus
    Xeelus   ·  June 20, 2015
    Ew, I see it. :P it looks better in docs, the transfer messes stuff up. I'll try.
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  June 20, 2015
    Haha, I'm liking Morose a lot. 
    There is a strange issue with the paragraph spacing. Any way to make them uniform?