Late afternoon found us on a wide strip of dry land covered in sparse trees. We stopped near a trio of these, I leaning against a trunk with my legs stretched out in front of me. Derkeethus removed his cloak and most of his armor, spreading it on a sun-drenched rock as he soaked up the sunlight. The soldier's armor glinted in the bright light as she gazed desultorily at a clump of fungus. Her arms were crossed and expression sour. After several tense moments, her boot connected with the largest fungal pod and sent it tumbling down into a nearby pool. "I'm requesting reassignment after this," she barked, "Would rather pander to the politicians in High Rock. Or pick sand out of--"
"We're leaving," I announced. "Stay here and gripe, go home, or continue following us." Picking up my pack, while Derk donned his armor once more, I turned and headed east towards the low hills we'd slowly been inching towards. Behind me, a distinctly scornful huff whispered through the air.
"I can't believe this," her voice murmured.
Water began seeping into the channels as we marched across the dried mud and grass, occasionally wading through soft peat up to our knees. With the water returned the midges, and as the day waned, we slapped irritably at the nuisances. "Ai! It's as if there are more of the buggers than ever before!" I cried, wrapping my cloak about my face.
"It's the deer meat. They can smell it," growled my friend. Even as I considered disposing of a little of our stores, I stopped in my tracks. My ears turned on weak muscles.
"Something's out there," I whispered. Rustling in the grass caught my attention. A bolt clinked home in Derk's crossbow as I readied my bow. Clicking and chattering rose up over the waving blades. An insect? I thought.
A very big one, returned Derkeethus.
Summoning my energy, I called a sabre cat from the air. It snarled as a monstrous, insectile creature clattered into view. As it emitted a high-pitched squeal, I clapped my hands over my ears and screwed my eyes shut. "Henny, look out!" Derk called.
A horrific gurgle rose, faint and tinny, and something passed over my head to land with a liquid splat on the tree behind me.
Gathering my wits, I fired my arrow through a second globule of greenish fluid. It bounced off the creature's carapace, landing point-down in the moist soil several feet away. With a flurry of scuttling, the insectoid shifted on its many legs to snap the arrow in half before advancing in earnest. My second arrow struck between the plates of its chitin, and it screeched in painful rage, pausing its charge. The sabre cat spectre leapt at the thing's head, distracting it with swipes of its massive paws. Derkeethus drew his pickaxes and rammed the flat ends between the plates, heaving them apart.
Several arrows plunged into the beast's soft, exposed flesh as the four of us wobbled in a ragged circle in a parodied waltz. Green, pus-like liquid seeped out of the wounds like curdled milk. When it seemed as i the last of my arrows would be spent, the great insect wheezed its last, rattling breath. Those terrible jaws clamped around Derk's leg in its death throes, and my friend stamped on its head viciously until the cranium burst in an outburst of viscid innards. He kicked the mandibles away with a scowl.
"Kaoc'! What is this thing?" he spat.
"Some kind of giant earwig?" I pondered, prying the numerous segments apart to peer inside. Curious, I dipped my fingers into the viscous fluid and tasted them. The effect was immediate. My tongue swelled with the bitter tang of the substance and my eyes watered. Panicking, I scrambled to a pool to shovel salty marsh water into my mouth. The swelling abated after several minutes and repeated times rinsing with the brine. However, my throat stuck painfully when I swallowed and my mouth was terribly dry. A swig of water from my skin eased the irritation, but I still got to my feet unsteadily.
Pulling my arrows from the carcass, I carefully dipped my remaining ammunition in the poisonous fluid, storing them head-down in my quiver. Derkeethus glanced at me and stifled a laugh. "Your face. It looks like the backside of a whore's legs," he grinned salaciously. Furrowing my brow, I grazed into the water.
"I hope this isn't permanent," I groaned, pressing the violently purple flesh tenderly. Pain blossomed like a fresh bruise.
With a sigh, I led the way, continuing to plod across the marsh as the day's light faded to dusk. The cloying mists wafted higher as the air cooled into a biting chill. I was ready to halt and find firm ground to sleep on, but out of the brume a tiny shack emerged in a beacon of comfort. I broke into a run, my eyes glued to the building that would protect us from the growing cold and wind. Derkeethus, even the Thalmor soldier, followed, their feet splashing behind me haphazardly.
The door to the shack was in sight. We were only a hundred yards from salvation. A shallow mere was the only obstacle in our course. Then, a roar rent the air, thundering and wholly familiar. A breath from the shapeless Dawn towered above the vapors, rising from behind the shack with a great flap of its wings.
It swooped towards us, our glares meeting as power awakened within my mind. As one, Derkeethus and I readied our weapons. Volleys of arrows and bolts wedged their heads into the tough hide of the dragon. The insect's poison went to work, and I heard it's progression in the wheezing of the creature's breath as it roared streams of fire down on us.
Together, we rolled into the tidal pool, savoring the cold water as it shielded us from the wild heat of the flames. Vivid yellow gouts of fire sputtered on the surrounding vegetation as the salt burned away. Overhead, the dragon veered, banking sharply before diving for my head. Derkeethus yanked me under the water, where I choked on the salt brine in surprise.
A garbled click sounded where my head had just been. Gusts of air rippled the surface as its wings thrust it back into the sky. Emerging, feeling for all the world like a drowned skeever, I eyed the marsh around us, searching desperately for the bright glint of Elven metal against the drab brown. I found it crouched behind a fallen log observing us suspiciously.
"Help us!" I shouted. The soldier only shook her head, placing two fingers to her eyes before pointing at me. "You coward! Lorkhan curse you and your kin!" I screamed as a blind fury descended. She was going to watch us die. She knew she was going to watch us die. Though her widened eyes at my call betrayed faint evidence of guilt as she looked away.
I marched towards her, the dragon forgotten. Blood pounded in my ears, and I heard a chant in a language I did not understand roaring in the back of my head. Krii ek. Du balaan mulaag. Krii ek. Du balaan mulaag... I drew my sword. The Thalmor soldier's eyes were white with terror. At first I thought it was at me, but then I felt the fire blazing against my back and great wings hovering. Flames coiled around my body, leaving me hot, but unharmed. They coiled around my blade, heating the metal to a blazing brightness. I raised the sword forged in the memory of my lost companion, fully intent on setting this Altmer aflame. The dragon stayed behind me, the chant rumbled through my mind, the wild hoard hidden within every Bosmer cried for release, my own predilections drove me...
Then there was a hiss that pulled at the back of my head.
Derk's voice drew from strength from the raging energy in me and the sound smote the beast's ears, causing it to falter in the sky. The chant faded as the dragon's attention turned on my friend. It unleashed a stream of fire impossibly bright, smoldering the fringes of the Argonian's fur cloak. His crossbow smoked and charred, and the bolt began to melt as he aimed in spite of the heat. In flakes, the thin scales coating his snout grayed and drifted from his face.
Afraid, I rushed to his side, forcing all of my power through to his body. His clothing still smoldered and burned, but his skin remained unharmed. As the steel of the bolt all but melted, he pulled the trigger, sending the blazing globule of molten steel down the dragon's throat. It made an undignified croaking sound of pain and surprise, before collapsing to the ground, gagging and emitting fitful flames. I approached with my still-hot sword drawn, the blue filigree mingling with the red metal in a dance of fire and ice. The dragon turned, its eyes full of hatred, and it snapped at me. The motion must have pained it greatly, for it returned to a retching cough.
My blood was still running hot, though seeing the creature in such pain tempered my judgement a little. Instead of granting it a slow, painful death as part of me wanted to, I slid the blade home behind its head, piercing its brain with the burning sword. It collapsed, the fleshing pulling apart and burning in the evening shadows. I carved out its heart and bit into it, drawing its power, but managing to no longer be consumed by it. Eventually, the surge of energy faded, and we stood by the smoking bones as a cold breeze cut through the heat generated by the body.
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