Chapter 1
The strike on the cheek stung. It sent him across the stone floor, cowering in fear by the lava pit. He couldn’t look up at Maltrys, in his dark robes. The elder Dunmer was fuming as he stepped closer to him.
“You s’wit! Interrupt my work again, and I'll feed you to a Daedroth!” The dark hiss in the elder’s tone was unmistakable—he was serious this time. He returned to his study table, muttering, “If only we had a Kagouti…”
Ciel’nn opened his eyes, recovering from his stupor, and rubbed them. How he wanted to forget the memories of Maltrys, but try as he might, he remembered them vividly. That one in particular—it was stuck in his head forever. He could get help, he supposed though he wasn’t sure if he wanted that. His hand moved on to his throat, which was still sore. Perhaps if they met an alchemist, he could ask for a cure. Part of him doubted it would work, however and he wondered if the Dremora’s grab on his throat had left a permanent wound.
Looking around, he remembered where he was—a room at the Windpeak tavern. He had a companion, too. What was his name? Ah, Rangalen Mistgaze. He was friendly, and had helped him get out of the freezing weather. Ciel’nn hadn’t met many friendly Nords during his time in Skyrim.
“Did you slept well?” Rangalen’s said calmly, walking in from the hall. His features formed a frown when Ciel’nn turned his head to see him—he was wary. “Another nightmare?” the warrior asked, concerned, as he walked towards the bed. They had been friends for a few weeks now, and the Dunmer had continuous nightmares he never wanted to talk about. Rangalen wanted to help, but didn’t dare ask. He didn't even know how he would ask. Instead, he gazed at his Dunmer friend with warm eyes. “When you feel up for it, there’s warm soup waiting for you.” he said with a careful smile.
“Don’t tell me there is mead, too?” Ciel’nn asked roughly, and almost broke up, due to the cold weather. Mead was one thing he couldn’t stand. Sujamma, on the other hand, was his poison, but as far as he knew he couldn’t get it anywhere. Skooma was another thing he didn’t want to try. So he hand to stick with either water, or wine.
The warrior shook his head. “No, I brought water for you. I know how you hate our mead.” He kept his smile, and turned to leave. The Dunmer would follow him when he felt like it, he imagined. Rangalen walked out of the room, and shifted over the fire pit. He wasn’t sure how the day was going to go, but they needed to head towards the warmer regions of Skyrim. The Dunmer was difficult to deal with, especially outside of the taverns during the frequent blizzards. But he was determined to do his best to keep his friend safe while they traveled together.
Sitting at the table, tasting the soup, Ciel’nn deemed it sufficient. It had less flavors than he was used to, but it was adequate, and blissfully warm. He ate it at a modest pace, drinking from the water skin the warrior had provided for him. He glanced at Rangalen, and his standing pose reminded him of a guard.
“Are you guarding something?” Ciel’nn asked after he swallowed a piece of bread with honey down. It was good for his throat, but very sweet.
The warrior glanced at his friend, his arms crossed on his chest. “I’m just watching out. It's a good thing, that way no one can even think about robbing you while you eat.” Also, you’re so vulnerable at the moment... Rangalen thought as he turned his head back to the crowd – even though there were less people than during last night, a few still seemed suspicious. By instinct he lowered his arms, and placed his hand on the hilt.
“Once you’re finished with the food, we’ll move out.” Ciel’nn felt the chill return just thinking about going outside. He had no idea how he was going to survive this winter. If he had any say in the matter, he’d stay at the tavern until spring, no matter how foolish that might be. He turned to look at a Dunmer mage, holding a bowl of hot soup, which made him think of home.
A light touch on his shoulder jostled him from his thoughts, and Ciel’nn looked up at the young nord warrior. Of course he had noticed him staring at the mage—nothing escapes that vigilant warrior.
“Everything alright?” Rangalen asked. Gods, he looks like a lost house cat. Rangalen frowned briefly. “Is there something I can help with, Ciel’nn?” he repeated, as the Dunmer didn’t answer.
Shaking his head, Ciel’nn put the bowl on the table. “No, don't think so.” Where are we going this time?” He hoped they would go to the south where it was warmer, but by the looks of the warrior that wasn’t the case.
“We are going to Morthal. There is something for us to do there.” Rangalen replied. “If you are ready, we can leave once you have put warmer clothing on.” He meant the bear cape, and wolf fur clothing that Ciel’nn had left in the room. The warrior watched the Dunmer grumble as he got off the bench.
Shivering, Ciel’nn felt the cold slipping through his fur clothing, and tried to wrap the cloak around himself tightly. His legs were freezing, and he noted his walking speed slowing down. He trusted in Rangalen to watch out for coming threats like frost venom spiders. He wasn’t fond of them. Once he spent a night in a fur tent recovering from a surprise attack, trying to rid himself of the poison. Just thought of seeing the creatures made the Dunmer shiver even more.
Keeping an eye on the surroundings, Rangalen kept his pace moderate for his friend. He didn’t see any movement within the woods, but something made him cautious nonetheless. The sun was still up, but the night fell faster in these parts. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing the Dunmer staying behind. “Try to keep up, Ciel’nn. We can’t camp just yet.” He slowed his own pace, letting Ciel’nn catch up with him.
“I’m freezing—won't be able to feel my legs soon.” Ciel’nn complained, shooting a tormented look under his hood. “I think you'd need to get ten mammoth hides to keep me warm.” He added, and continued walking past the warrior. “If we had a guar, this trip would go much faster.”
The young warrior tried not to smile – he could get a horse, he supposed, but he thought Ciel’nn would be even colder if he was riding. Still, it was something he’d consider, another time. With a step he caught the Dunmer, and walked by his side. “We'll rest as soon as I find a good, covered spot. What is a guar?” Rangalen was curious, for the Dunmer hadn’t told him much yet—he kept quiet most of the time. And, he'd never heard of a guar before. His father didn’t own many books.
Suddenly, Rangalen spotted a dark cloaked figure in a short distance, as they neared Frostmere Crypt. Quickly, he tried to reach his friend before something could happen.
Ciel’nn opened his mouth to shout, but nothing came out. He froze on the spot, and felt terror coursing through his nerves as he stared at the necromancer ahead of them. His lungs failed to produce air, and suddenly he was elsewhere—staring at Maltrys with his dark robes, grinning wickedly at him as he tried to reach him. Maltrys… His feet began to move on their own.
“Ciel’nn!” The young warrior wasn’t sure what is happening to his Dunmer friend, as he sprang away, yelling, “He’s going to take my soul!” Worrying if there were more of them, Rangalen faced the necromancer, who was casting a powerful shock spell. He bashed him with his shield, and stuck his sword through him. “I've had enough of you!” He stepped back, looking around for the mer.
“Ciel’nn!” Rangalen shouted, but there was no answer. Where did he go? He made sure the necromancer was dead before he set out to look for the Dunmer, his concern growing. Taking care of shocked people wasn’t his strong point—he left that for Sarade, whenever she was around. She had an ability to make people feel safe.
Nightfall would come soon, and Rangalen was quite worried by the time he found a big, snow covered rock. He circled around it, and saw the Dunmer sitting, shivering, at the base of the rock. Letting out a relieved sigh, the young warrior knelt down, and took his own bear cloak from his shoulders. “Look at me, Ciel’nn. It’s going to be alright.” he said warmly, placing his own coat on the
mer's shoulders.
Ciel’nn finally looked up at the warrior, still shaking. His eyes were wide from the terror he had felt. His hands gripped on the cloak around him. How he wished to forget that man, Maltrys. He hated him, but was afraid of him at the same time. The warrior’s warm words weren’t enough to soothe him. Ciel’nn dimly wondered if anything would be. “I’m…I’m freezing.” he choked out. Even with the second cloak on him, the Dunmer was cold.
Rangalen had no idea what his friend had been through. He decided to give time for Ciel’nn recover—perhaps he would tell him, when he was ready. “I’ll put up the camp. Hold on.” he said, standing up. He stepped away to make the campfire, practically in front of the Dunmer.
Inside the tent, Ciel’nn felt his body warming up as he was sitting on the fur bedroll. He was bundled up with the fur cape, and blankets. He held a warm bowl of Horker stew that Rangalen had made for him. Ciel’nn was grateful, but he still couldn’t speak much.
The memories were too painful to speak about. Why they surfaced now, he could not say.
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Comments
Well never until now tbh, but I like the sound of it! The emotion deepens, Ciel'nn has been truly broken, poor dude.Maltrys has certainly done a number on him, although a numb... more
Glad to hear you're working on the next chapter Caldran.
BTW I noticed a few lines were out regarding formatting so I tidied them up for you. Looking forwards to teh next chapter.