Dragonborn Alone, Part 4

• Posted by Idesto January 28, 2016 - 1,427 views

  Mephala! What a seductive, devious, deceitful Daedra she is!

  I was right about her, at least: it was my refusal to pay her price at our last encounter that motivates her; although she didn't admit it. 

  Her price? The same as before: "Kill someone who trusts you."

  This time I agreed. I want my family back! 

  Desperation creates inspiration: this time, unlike before, I knew what I had to do! Maybe I wasn't willing even to consider it before; now it just seemed obvious.

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  I'd heard about him while on my travels, in my 'saving the world' days. I'd heard that he stayed in one place, waiting; I just hope that he is still there, still waiting. Waiting: for me.

  It has taken me some time but I have finally reached the place I was told he would be. Emerging out from behind a frozen, snowy hill, and despite the wind-whipped snow driven into my face, through the gloom I see him.

  The old Orc. 

  I approach him, and we greet each other warily.

  We regard each other, silently, face to face. I study him: his body, his armour, his weapons, his arms, his hands. He is strong in appearance; noble in bearing. His face, his eyes: piercing, intense, yet sorrowful & full of longing. A lifetime of experiences are written in the lines and creases of this face.

  I see his soul. His gaze meets and matches mine: proud, unflinching, strong. This is rare!

  It is then that I realise how alike we are. Great warriors, but spent. Our glory days behind us, uncertainty ahead of us. Each longing for something that eludes us, a thing that we hope will complete us. 

  Finally I break the silence.

  "Do you know who I am?" 

  "I do," he replies. "Do you know of that which I seek?"

  "I do."

  "And do you believe you are able to give it to me?"

  "Aye: that I do."

  "Good. Then let us begin!" the Orc cries, fire rising in his eyes.

  He raises his fearsome axe, shouting: "A GOOD DEATH!"

  "A GOOD DEATH!" I shout in return.

  He strikes. He is quick!

  I manage to jump sideways away from his lunge, but only just: his axe slices into my arm as I leap. Flesh tears, and my hot blood splatters the cold snow: my life leaking red onto white, steaming as it sinks slowly downwards to the unyielding ground below. 

  I am out of practice; but I am still Dragonborn! 

  "FUS RO DAH!"

  The Orc is slammed against the snowy hill, & hits hard rock. He slides to the ground, unconscious. I run in for the final blow; as I move to strike with my sword he blocks me, then knocks me to the ground with a deftly placed kick. He was either feigning, or he recovered very quickly! 

  Both again back on our feet we circle each other, looking for an opening. I wish this noble warrior not only a good death, but a quick one: he has suffered enough.

  Now. "WULD NAH KEST!"

  I slam into him with great force, and again he is smashed up against the rocks, only this time with my weight added to the impact. Again he slides to the ground, but now there is no recovery; instead just a long sigh emanating from his proud mouth.

  I again raise my sword and he again goes to block, but it is only a token effort: he is weakened and he cannot stop the blow. My sword finds his great heart, piercing it strong, straight & true. I feel his mighty hand wrap itself around my arm, & I hear his whispered words: "This...is...a...good...death. Th....."

  His hand is limp, and his arm falls onto the snow. A sudden stillness descends, as if Nature herself is marking the passing of the great Orc warrior.

  "Aye, it was a good death. May you find the peace you seek, my friend." 

  I close his eyes, behold him for the last time, & turn back towards Whiterun, and Mephala: where my own destiny awaits.

     I hope to publish the fifth and final part tomorrow.