Eye of the Wind – Ch. 2 – 6: Hunting the Phial

  • Heading westward through the snow, we crossed the River Yorgrim.  Here the mists had frozen into strange shapes on the rocks and bridges, causing them to look as if they had been carved from ice.  In some places, we saw frozen clouds of mist sparkling in the sunlight.  Ephemeral gems of lost value.

    The road turned and headed up a long slope, following the river as it seeped around flat plates of ice that jutted out in white, translucent cliffs.  As the morning passed, we came to a desolate little mill whose waterwheel was already frozen over for season.

    Just west of the mill, a little further uphill, I spotted the khajiit caravan that often traveled with Ahkari's.  I hailed them with a broad smile, and briefly traded goods.

    "There is a strange khajiit up ahead.  He speaks to himself in riddles.  Do you know anything about him?" the merchant asked.

    "He disappears into thin air and acts like a prophet," I replied, wryly.

    The merchant laughed, "All khajiit can disappear!  It is what makes a khajiit a khajiit!"  With that he continued on his way, still chuckling and sharing the joke with his companions.  Derkeethus and I continued on further up the slope.

    We saw no sign of M'aiq or any other khajiit, but I hadn't expected to see him.  At this point I assumed he was an apparition sent to confuse and annoy travelers.

    At last, we crested the hill and looked back down upon the land we left.  The mill sat halfway down the valley and only the tops of the roofs could be seen.  

    As I watched the snow drift downward, I thought of how peaceful the little mill looked.  A far cry from the desolate, frozen thing we passed hours before.  If I hadn't known Windhelm sat just beyond a turn in the mountain side, a dark, foreboding blot on the landscape, I would have said the place looked idyllic.

    We continued onward, now traversing through another valley, this one shallow and filled with a frozen lake.  

    At a signpost announcing a fork in the road, we stopped and took our bearings.  The road to the north went further uphill into the mountains, but it was quite plainly a road that was well-used.  If there was a treasure to be found, it wouldn't so obviously be there.  So, I headed west once more, following a road that saw less use.  The only tracks I spotted were those of the khajiit that just passed.  Anything else was already filled in by the ever-present snow.

    Cold wind blew up the rocks from the lake and Derkeethus and I shivered.

    Eventually, we came to a small path that led away from the road through a thicket of monolithic stones that, had they not fallen over, would have created an aisle.  A grove of snow-covered pines clustered around a brazier for warmth, and the brazier itself marked the entrance to a cave.

    Behind the entrance, strange hawk-headed obelisks looked at us in askance.

    "You think this is the place?" Derkeethus asked, breaking the silence.

    "It's a cave.  And it looks forsaken.  I think so," I said, teeth chattering.  "I don't like that brazier being lit, though.  Who lit it?  Why hasn't it gone out?"

    "Maybe it's magic?" suggested the Argonian.

    "Maybe..."  

    But I didn't like the feeling of this place.  I felt watched, and not just by the stones.  It was as if someone were beckoning us to go inside.  Taunting us with the promise of warmth.  My leg was starting to hurt, and it moved stiffly as I walked.  The thought of warmth was very alluring.  

    Having hunted for years beyond counting, I knew this to be the smell of a trap.

    And yet, what choice did we have?  We needed to find the Phial, and it was here.  I trusted Nurelion's judgement and hoped I could use a little of the Phial's power to return him to health as he had done me.

    Stepping up to the edge of the black crevice in the rock, I listened to the sounds coming from inside.  I heard nothing but a steady moan of the wind and the quiet slapping sounds of water hitting rock.  Taking a steadying breath, I walked in and knew the snare was already tightening around our necks.

    Inside the air was only slightly warmer.  With the wind gone, there was only the dank stillness of trapped air and slowly sublimating snow.

    We moved as stealthily as we could through the packed snow, but our feet crunched steadily.  My senses remained alert and over-tuned, but we encountered nothing for some time.  Still, the snare tightened.

Comments

2 Comments
  • Eviltrain
    Eviltrain   ·  September 15, 2012
    sweet.
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  September 11, 2012
    Lovely descriptions of the snow and cold and frozen mist...those are some of my favorite landscapes from the game, and your words do their beauty justice.  Nice leave on a note of tension...thank goodness you have another post so that I can see what happens!