Prologue
Ciel’nn managed to drag himself away from the Dremora Lord Marquis. It was only a temporary solution, for he couldn’t fight back anymore. Wincing in pain, he brushed his dark hair away from his face. His wounds were bleeding, and his vision was blurring. He didn’t have any potions or bandages left. The fight had been grievous, and Marquis wasn’t the type of Dremora that let his victims live. He heard the steps and malice filled chuckles as Marquis searched for him. It wouldn’t be long anymore.
Calling for Sithis didn’t produce any result – in fact he hadn't felt the embrace since… Since he didn’t return to the Sanctuary. In all honesty, Ciel’nn had to admit he had been abandoned. A shiver swept through his frame. He knew he'd die here. It was only matter of time before the Dremora Lord would find him, mock him, and then kill him. He frowned at the fact that he didn’t know where his soul would go then. Certainly Sithis wouldn’t take it. He wasn’t sure about Azura, whose servant he had been for a long time before Sithis came in to the picture. And certainly not Boethiah, whose contract he had broken long ago. Marquis was serving her in getting him, and punishing him, probably. Ciel’nn wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Maybe the Oblivion was the place where he’d go? The idea of it made him shiver even more.
The steps in the dry grass came closer. Ciel’nn reached for his dagger, preparing for the last strike.
“Oh, Ciel’nn, come out of hiding!” Marquis sneered. “Why bother when I find you anyway, mortal?”
Ciel’nn breathed deeply, and narrowed his eyes as he tried to get on his knees, but fell back on the ground. His sight was blurred almost completely now – he had been in these situations before, and lived. But he knew this would be his last moments – he hoped it would end in a quick death.
The dark figure of Marquis shifted in front of him. The Deadra Lord tilted his head. “Out of strength? A pity – I was expecting a grand battle from Sithis' loyal assassin.” he snarled. His pondered for brief moment. “I see. Sithis isn’t with you anymore – you’re no longer ‘protected’. I just have to kill you, like I killed your Celani.” His tone was sinister, and he witnessed the Dunmer’s mix of anger and horror on his scarred face. “Poor Celani begged for mercy. Now it’s your turn.”
Ciel’nn clenched his teeth, for he’d never beg for mercy. He knew Celani – his loved one had paid the price for him breaking the contract. Anger boiled inside him, but he couldn’t even use it to stand up. Instead he held the dagger so tight that it hurt. “N’wah.” He hissed the insult.
The Dremora Lord laughed. “Oh, Ciel’nn, your insults are pointless.” He stepped towards the dunmer, and rising his cruel gauntlets, readying himself to kill the Dunmer.
Ciel’nn cursed. He couldn’t do anything, and he waited for the moment when his life would end. For a moment he regretted he wasn’t able to track the person who killed his cousin, Ce’vale. Ciel’nn missed him, for he had felt his memories when he had travelled across the land. Now he felt truly alone.
Marquis was dangerously close now, and Ciel’nn felt his dark aura consuming him. The Dremora Lord was reaching his armored hand at him, when suddenly, they both heard a furious shout.
He growled, turning around to see who had the gall to attack him. All he saw a young Nord man with a sword and shield, and a huntress with an enchanted bow in the distance, and he didn’t recognize either. The huntress seemed bear the mark of the Dragonborn. She could be trouble, Ciel’nn realized. Marquis forgot the Dunmer for the time being, and hissed at the Nord warrior.
“Come on, you monster!” The Nord warrior shouted in anger, and attacked at Marquis slashing
out with his sword. He tried to force the Dremora Lord away from the dark elf who he and the huntress had seen from afar. The young Nord warrior hoped the huntress was ready when it was time to implement their plan. He slashed again, and stepped back when the Dremora Lord took a leap towards him.
“I shall feast on your heart!” He hissed, and proceeded closer to the Nord, snarling.
Ciel’nn couldn’t see properly what was happening. He only knew that someone had come to interfere with
Marquis’ plans to end his life. Not knowing whether to be thankful or angry about it, Ciel’nn couldn’t hold any longer. Darkness was a welcome friend as he fell unconscious on the grass.
_
The calming sound of crackling fire was what he heard when he came around. His body didn’t
hurt so much, only an ache where the wounds had been. It dawned to him that he hadn’t died after all. He didn't know where he was now. Slowly he opened his eyes, and carefully looked around. Ciel’nn recognized the tent material; it was made of fur – he used to have one of these before. The bedroll was made of bear fur, soft and warm.
The Dunmer tried to move, but let out a hiss instead, and settled back on the bedroll. Better to not be moving at all, since he had no idea whose camp he was in. Ciel’nn listened to the sounds around him instead. No one was talking at the moment. It has to be nighttime though; there was feint sounds from night insects. Perhaps the camp was near water.
“I see you’re awake, lad. Better stay in the bedroll till the morning.” A young man’s voice spoke close by.
“Who are you? And, where am I?” Ciel’nn inquired in a rough voice. He needed to know before he could even begin to rest again.
“I’m Rangalen Mistgaze.” The young Nord man walked closer, so the Dunmer could see him. “We’re at the Lake Ilinalta. You’re safe. You’ll meet Sarade later.”
“Who is she?” Ciel’nn pondered, for he had heard voices before passing out. “Where is the…?” He felt something stuck in his throat as he started to cough.
“Sarade is the Dragonborn. She dealt with the Dremora Lord – banished him back to Oblivion.” Rangalen sat down by the fire again. “You should rest, but first, what is your name?”
Ciel’nn was quiet a moment. Banished back to Oblivion? That meant Marquis will be back later. He knew he was safe, for now, but why they had rescued him? He didn’t know them, and the Nord certainly didn’t know him either. Ciel’nn wasn’t sure of the Dragonborn. He had heard rumors though. “Ciel’nn Sarion.” He started to feel the heavy cloak of sleepiness as his eyes started to close.
“Sleep, friend. We’ll talk more in the morning, if you are feeling better by then.” Rangalen’s soothing voice was the last thing Ciel’nn heard before falling to slumber.
For a long time, Ciel’nn slept without shadowing thoughts, without daedric interference. There were no whispering from the Dremora Lord. It felt like he was protected from the harm that haunted him every night before. The darkness was a soothing, velvety touch that calmed his nerves, and made his aching muscles relaxed. Ciel’nn could not remember the last time he had slept this well. He was well tucked in the fur bedroll while Rangalen watched over his sleep, and the
camp.
Morning was chilly, and Ciel’nn stirred awake. He opened his eyes as his stomach let him know that food was needed, as the delicious smell of venison stew made his mouth water. He could not remember the last time he had a real meal, as he had been on the run, almost constantly.
Hearing the Dunmer waking up, Rangalen arranged a place to sit for his new friend. He frowned – hopefully a new friend, he corrected himself. This was a rare opportunity to learn more about the Dunmer, and he would prove that not all of Stormcloak were hateful of outsiders. Rangalen stood up, and smiled when Ciel’nn came out of the tent.
“Good to you see you awake. I hope you slept well?” His tone was neutral, but friendly as he pointed where the Dunmer would sit down.
“It’s strange. I can’t remember when I last slept well. Did you put some protection magic around the camp?” Ciel’nn inquired as he sat down. He observed the Nord’s friendly smile.
“Oh, no. I can’t do any magic that high, but simple ones.” Rangalen chuckled, as he handed over the venison stew to the Dunmer. “I believe this part of Falkreath is under Kyne’s blessing. That, or Sarade had put a spell.”
Ciel’nn nodded, as took the bowl. He was hungry, but he still didn’t know why he was rescued. Looking up to the young Nord. “Thank you, sera.”
The stew tasted delicious, and it was a mouthful. Ciel’nn ate it, cherishing the flavour – he had grown to the northern meaty foods. The foods were alright, but the drinks weren’t – the Nord mead made him throw up, and other beverages were either too strong or bitter. So with the food he had either milk or water. Ciel’nn missed his favourite drink, sujamma, and its sweet taste. He missed many things from Morrowind, but Skyrim has become his new home, even though the winters were harsh and ice-cold. He finally looked at
Rangalen again.
“I have to know. Why did you rescue me? I’m not a person of importance.” His tone was neutral, but there was sound of gratefulness.
Rangalen was observing his assumed friend. He couldn’t even begin to think what this Dunmer had been through – with those scars on his face. If they could become close friends later – he was hoping, of course, maybe getting way ahead of himself – he could protect Ciel’nn.
“Sarade and I are willing to help anyone. You were in danger, so we rushed to help as soon as she saw the Dremora Lord.” The nord warrior paused, pondering. “I have to admit, I’m curious about your kind, Ciel’nn.” His tone was careful, but warm.
Ciel’nn thought a moment. “From which town are you from?” He had seen enough Nords, but still could not say which Hold they were from. Hoping this one wasn’t from where what he thought he was.
“I’m from Windhelm, but,” Rangalen spoke as he saw the Dunmer’s expression shifting. “I’m not following Ulfric’s—or my father’s—ideals of Skyrim belonging only to Nords. In fact, I left my home to see more of this land I call home, and to learn about other people.”
“What do you want in exchange of knowing about my kind?” Ciel’nn asked.
The nord smiled. “Only your friendship, if you allow.”
Ciel’nn’s eyes widened in surprise – this Nord wanted to be his friend instead of wanting septims. It felt strange. It had been a very long time since he had any friends. He had to think more about this offer. A Nord friend who was a warrior would not hurt at all, but he didn’t know if he could trust him.
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Comments
young and despite of his father (whose come up later), he became more to
his mother than father. He's also a common boy from Windhelm. He was in
Sarade's (the drago... more
young and despite of his father (whose come up later), he became more to
his mother than father. He's also a common boy from Windhelm. He was in
Sarade's (the dragonborn) influence, ... more