End of an Era - Part.1

• Posted by Sindeed January 7, 2016 - 1,346 views

  Author's note: The following story takes place in the Late Merethic Era. Also it's semi-lore hostile.

  Erarik sat on the edge of the coast, motionless, his eyes gazing upon the wondrous sight, The Sea Of Ghosts.

  “I wonder why they call it that” He said to himself.

  He was enough used to the cold landscape he lived in, from his birth. Dusk was near, some birds, who were also here to enjoy the scenery, flew south to their nests.

  But Erarik would stay there, every day, hours after hours, until it was night.

  There was something special this night, colors appeared in the sea, The Veils, something he had never seen. His eyes filled with joy at this new sight. More time passed by as he glared at the beautiful night sky.

  “Wake up!”  A voice said breaking his trance.

  “Whaaa? Who?”

  “Come on! Let's get you home.”

  “Aww pa... can't I stay a bit more?

  “You would like to be eaten by Horkers? One of these days, you’re gonna go missing and I’ll have to search all of Skyrim to find you.”

  “But I don’t like moving all the wood and going with you to that town.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You want to live? You’ve got to work.”

  He often wondered why his father was so harsh on him. Not that he didn’t like the big old brute his pa was.

  “From tomorrow, you don’t get out of home unless I say so, is that understood?”

  “Yes pa…”

  The father and son walked through the passages in the barren snowy hills. The local town wasn’t very far. A mighty statue of Ysgramor, holding his axe made of a material nobody knew of, stood strong in the middle of it. Erarik never liked that place, the nords there weren't very friendly except one of them, a companion.

  “So, at last my son shows up. Come here!” His mother said as they approached their home.

  “Where were you?”

  “I was wandering around the coast, ma.”

  “Be careful around that place, Erarik. Now go inside! Food is ready!”

   “Thanks ma!” He replied as he headed inside the house.

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   Erarik woke up from the sounds screams and the clashing of metal. Something was definitely wrong. He ran out of his room to see something he wasn’t expecting… Elves, his father fighting off Elves.

  “Ma! Pa! What is happening?” he screamed.

  “Go to your mother and help her!” Yelled the old man.

  Help her? What happened to her?

  The wounded body of his mother appeared as he opened the door, shot.

  “Ma! What happened?”    

  “Erarik…You need to go, find safety…”

  “I can’t ma! I won’t leave you. Who are those elves?”

  “Snow Elves… They are Snow Elves…”

  “But didn’t Ysgramor killed all of them?”

  A scream stopped their conversation. Erarik looked outside only to find his father… dead. The elves were coming inside the house.

  “GO!” his mother screamed.

  Tears covered his cheek as he vaulted over the window and started running towards the town. The family he has always known, dead? He couldn’t believe it, it seemed like a very bad dream. His hike through the hills was slowed down by memories of them.

  As he approached the town, more snow elves came into sight. They were interrogating someone who seemed like the ruler… The town had fallen.

  “Who… Who are you people?” He heard the person say.

  “We are the last of our race, We are here to spread the light of Auri-El” The leader of the elves said with somewhat distinct accent.

  His head rolled off the mountain.

  “Well, look here!” The snow elf said as he spotted something.

  It didn’t take Erarik long to find out what the elf spotted, it was him. His turn to be Interrogated.

  “Is it worth it, brother? Interrogating a little child?” one of them said.

  “That is my decision to make” Said the leader as he grabbed Erarik by the neck and pulled him infront of his face. What Erarik didn’t notice as didn’t the other elves until now… was that the leader’s pupils were glowing… with a color of yellow.

  “Tell me, child, where are the other settlements of your pathetic race?”

  “I WON’T” Replied Erarik yelling.

  “Very well then…”  The leader released Erarik and laughed deviously.

  Erarik’s eyes flashed in terror after looking at a dangerous thing, magic… Destruction Magic concentrated in the hands of the elf. He had very little knowledge of magic that his mother taught him, still, he prayed that it would be enough.

  “Prepare to die…”

  Erarik raised his hand, concentrating all of his willpower into a weak ward. He knew it wouldn't hold but at the least it would somewhat lower the impact of that destructive magic.

  “So! This little one knows some of the art!”

  Suddenly, gallops of horses were heard. Every snow elf unsheathed their weapons. Their leader looked back only to have a glimpse of what he feared the most, the companions. The Atmorans' massacre of his kind was well known in the chantry.

  “Establish a perimeter across the hill! For Auri-El!” yelled the leader and pulled out a bow, fully golden, shining in the morning sun.

  “Why are you fooling your own brothers… I’ve read about the chantry of Auri-El, They aren’t like this.” Muttered Erarik.

  “Shut up. You’ll have the honor of getting killed by my hands after I finish this business.”

  “Arch-Curate! Those are men wearing Nordic armor. They are heavily armed.” An elf cried out.

  Erarik was suffocating, but his will was enough for him to tolerate the pain. Gathering the last of his strength, he crawled to the edge of the hill to see what seemed like another dream come true, but this time it was a good dream - hundreds of men riding horses, weapons of various substances in their hands. Their reason for coming here was known by everyone there.

  The leader of the well-known warrior band stepped up, holding a shield of a design nobody had ever seen before, a circle of steel at it's middle and 4 lines coming out of it, those lines formed 4 triangular shapes and each had a different design in it.

  “Fire!” The Arch Curate ordered.

  Dozens of arrows flew to their target only to find one thing blocking their way, that shield.

  Skyforge Material! The books say true after all! Thought Erarik.

  “So... The Snow Elves still live! Have you got no honor? Or are you just afraid of facing me?” Yelled the man wearing Nordic armor.

  Every elf’s eyes except the Arch-Curate’s filled with shame.

  “Actions speak better than words, pathetic human! I shall face you one on one” He said after seeing his men’s morale dropped. Auri-el’s weak talk of honor must have influenced these fools! He thought.

  One had his magic, other had his shield. Both combatants moved forward as their men cleared a proper duel area for them.  They started circling each other.

  The elf made the first offense, a quick thrust with his golden sword followed by a cold ice spike, the first parried with skyforge steel and the latter dug deep into the man’s shield. All Erarik could do was stand there and watch the two men battle. The companion was swiftly blocking and avoiding all of his opponent’s blows to drain him off, when he got the chance, he took it, blow after blow landed on the Arch-Curate, resulting in a big thump.

  The Arch-Curate knew this was not going to end well…

  “Get up, elf. You have a fight to attend to.” Said the man.

  The companions’ chivalry was well known among the denizens of Skyrim.

  He watched the elf get up, both going into a fighting posture again. But then came something he did not expected at all…

  A Golden Arrow, with an aura of light glowing around it flew right to the companion.

  Every one of the Nords present there charged at the elves after seeing their leader fall by an explosion of… light.

  The hill’s color soon turned from white to red. Corpses of elves every where. The Arch-Curate was nowhere to be seen.

  It was as if Erarik was watching the purge of the elves anew…