With a heart of stone resting in my chest as a heavy weight, I left the Temple of Kynareth only to be greeted with the very symbol of my loss. A great tree stood leafless and lifeless in the square, its grayed branches clawing at the sky in apparent agony. I walked towards the tree, ignoring curious passersby, and pressed my hand to the trunk. Within I could feel a faint, thready pulse of life the sensation only reminded me of Jorin's last moments.
Weeping, I knelt among the flowers adorning its roots and succumbed to the weight of my heart as it dragged me through the hole in my life.
"We are but maggots, writhing in the filth of our own corruption! While you have ascended from the dung of mortality, and now walk among the stars!" Turning, I saw a robed man shouting in a voice raw with emotion. I began to wonder who he was talking about, until he spoke the name Talos. Talos.
Were it not for him, my homeland would have been supported in its ancient alliance. We would have been better, stronger. My family wouldn't have had to leave ages later, because the conflict wouldn't have existed. I could have been home. With a family. With a lover. With a bow. Without any complications in my life. But then I wouldn't have met Derkeethus. Or Jorin. The thought of the fox's name brought a fresh pang of pain.
Swallowing the welling tears, I scowled and headed towards the sound of cheers and merriment. The smell of beer and ale. Towards whatever inn this town contained. Eventhough it was midday, several drunkards were loose in the warm main room. For a while I stood in the corner, fighting the temptation to drink their plant-based beverages and wanting more than anything to sink into a drunken oblivion.
"Heey you," slurred a man in a dark cowl. "Iii got somethin' you want." He staggered and swayed for a moment before producing a bottle filled with a thin brown liquid. Carefully, I opened the bottle, sniffing its contents. The smell of alcohol stung my nostrils and made my eyes water, and then the scent of herbs laced with a sickly sweet suggestion of old meat followed. My eyes widened as I remembered a holiday with my family as a child, all of the adults gathered around the table sipping the same kind of drink.
"Nothin like the comfots offf home, eh?" the man said, listing dangerously on his feet as he took the bottle back. "Tell ya what. You beat meee in a drinkin contest, and Iii'll let ya have a whoooole bottle." With a grim look, I nodded, snatching the bottle from him and taking a swig. The liquid scorched as it went down and I coughed thickly. "Good huh. Give't here...s'my turn."
And so we swapped the bottle back and forth, each of us reeling and slurring increasingly as the liquid disappeared. At last, there was one last swig.
"Henny, what are you doing?" I heard Derkeethus ask behind me. Blearily, I looked at him and saw three Argonians.
"Having a...a...drink. Yes, that's it. A drink. Just a little one," I mumbled, the words falling thickly from my lips. I swallowed the last of the bottle and looked at my drinking partner, who had slumped to the floor asleep. "I win," I said, smiling vacantly.
"Well, why didn't you invite me?" Derk asked, sounding hurt.
"I din't wanyou to feel bad. I aaalready feel bad. Very bad. Very sad. Nooow I don' feel any...thing. Nothing. Not...one...bit." I groped for the other bottle on the table and missed. There were too many of them. "Sstupid bottle. C'mback here..." Trying again, I managed to grab it and clung to the glass container for dear life. Seeing my friend's saddened expression brought tears to my eyes, and I offered him the first sip in a wobbling fashion.
"Ugh, this stuff is foul!" the Argonian cried, grimacing as he swallowed. I emitted something between a laugh and a sob. Even in my current state I realized the sound was horrific and not unlike the sound of a trapped animal.
Staggering and reeling, I stumbled outside, stealing a mouthful of alcohol from Derkeethus when I managed to locate which bottle was the right one. Cold rain pattered on my face and the thin clothes clung to my form as I struggled to keep the world from turning upside down on me.
Inevitably, I tripped and lie face down on the wet stone for a while. The coolness of the water revived me a little, and a thought wormed its way into my head. I didn't know what the thought actually was, but I found myself back in the Temple of Kynareth, pawing through my things. Finding the long package, I pried off the layer of vellum and looked in dazed and drunken wonder at the contents.
It was a bow fashioned from horn and bone, carved with intricate tracery in the shapes of vines and carefully stained and oiled with fat and natural tannins. The inner curve was engraved with runes I couldn't recognize. The letter was harder to decipher as the words kept swimming in and out of focus.
Expert Splinter-Flinger,
I never did get your name, but I haven't stopped thinking of you since you came to Riften. Talking to you hardened my resolve to leave the fishery and strike out on my own once more.
Imagine my surprise when I find you near death at the bottom of a mountain outside Riverwood! You're safe here in the temple, worry not. These Nords are dedicated healers. I tried to stay until you awoke, but alas, I had to return to the village.
So, when I saw that your bow had broken, I knew how heartbroken you would be when you found it. I couldn't stand to think of a Bosmer, especially one as strong as you, without a bow, so I crafted one for you while you rested. It's taken weeks, and it's not perfect, but it's the best I could manage.
I frequent Riverwood often enough, please stop by sometime. I'd be delighted to see you once again. This time awake and not dying.
Ever yours,
Valindor
I stared at the letter incomprehensibly for some minutes, hazily remembering the Bosmer with the charming smile down on the boardwalk. I felt warmed by his gesture. Apart from Derkeethus, he had been the only person I had met in this land I immediately felt connected to. Thinking of both at once, I began to compare them, and found myself feeling uncomfortable and torn. Or perhaps that was the gentle pulling in the back of my head that I felt reaching towards the door.
Still reeling, though slightly more sobered, I donned my armor, shoved my things back in my bag and picked up my new bow. My heart fluttered as I strung it.
"Where are you going?" Derkeethus asked, catching up with me at last.
"Hunting. With my new bow. Need hide to patch this bag. See the holes? It's a holy bag, get it?" I mumbled, laughing. Without waiting for a reply, I stumbled past Derk, who watched me glassy-eyed, and out into the rain.
In minutes, I had shambled and wobbled my way out of the city and onto the wide plains. Rain still fell in a spitting drizzle and the afternoon had waxed. The flat, slightly rolling lands revolved slowly back and forth as if suspended from a string. I kept waiting to hear the soft padding of small paws behind me, and everytime I turned look for Jorin, I felt my heart wrench.
Determined, I ran across the brown grass, tripping and falling every now and again. Each fall only hardened the strange resolve. I was going to repair those bags and my cloak, and I was going to find the next ingredient eventhough I had no idea what it was. I was going to finish this and then I was going to rest. To go away. Far away. Away from things that could lead to the death of beloved companions.
My aimless wandering took me across the plains towards a singular mountain jutting from the earth like a tooth. Faintly, I felt the thread between my friend and I stretching until it was impossibly thin. The sun began to sink a little lower, and I took another swig of the bottle I had snatched from Derkeethus.
After searching for nothing for a couple of hours, I at last found something I wanted to hunt. A mound of brown, snarled, stinking hair, the mammoth grazed peaceably under the watch of its giant shepherd.
Feeling the newly assembled bone and horn creak under the strain of its first use, I nocked its maiden arrow. The pull of this bow was heavier, harsher. It's materials less flexible and broken in, and I found my arm shaking as I held the string back and aimed. Aiming itself was difficult, as I kept seeing two mammoths and couldn't decide which was the right one.
That is, until I realized there were two mammoths, and with a sloppy grin I loosed an arrow into the first one. It struck home in the creature's chest and had all the impact of a fly biting a horse. Grumbling so deeply, the earth trembled, the mammoth turned to glare at me with its beady eyes. It stomped and flashed its tusks in warning.
Stupidly, I loosed another arrow; this time into its head. I was going to take down this mammoth. It was vitally important to my survival. I would die if I did not succeed. Or so I felt and thought in my nebulous state.
The pull back towards Whiterun began to strengthen, and even as the creature charged, I heard Derkeethus huffing and puffing some distance behind me.
"Gwaihen what the hell do you think you're doing!" Derkeethus shouted, any evidence of drunkenness having left him.
"Hunting. I need a hide. Mammoths have hides. Why don't you help me?" I said, still having a hard time getting my thoughts to congeal properly.
"Why don't we run?" he cried, seizing my arm and dragging me with him. His touch sent a tremor through the connection in my mind and I felt his urgency and terror. Without thinking, I ran, and as the realization of what we were being chased by dawned on me, I ran faster. I whistled shrilly, thinking I was calling Jorin to help me, forgetting he wasn't around anymore. My heart sank as I realized he wouldn't come to the rescue and distract the great beasts.
Instead, I heard a whinny in the distance and the thundering of hooves. Two shapes came careening into view and when we saw each other, I cried in relief and joy while the other neighed excitedly. The other shape, which I now knew was a horse, blazed past us and reared at the mammoths, screaming and pawing with its hooves. I leapt onto the horse nearest me, recognizing Nael in full and dragged Derkeethus over to his horse even as we fled.
The mammoths, not terribly keen on chasing our irritating entourage, only trumpeted in perceived victory.
Derkeethus and I shared the remains of the strange alcohol in celebration, whooping and cheering as we rode across the plains. Our victory dissolved into a haze of revelry as the galloped westward, racing each other. Even the pain of loss was forgotten after the last bottle was emptied.
Comments
However, I think in Gwaihen's case, breaking th... more