The Longest Road – Ch. 9 – 5: Portals

• Posted by Kyrielle Atrinati April 27, 2013 - 544 views

  "Arkay, guide this soul to Aetherius, where it may rest in peace with the Aedra..."

  "Runil, you can't do this.  She's still alive!"

  "Let this body pass into Nirn, where it will become one with the earth..."

  "Runil!  Stop!"

  "For we who remain shall-- Oh for gods' sake, boy!  Unhand me!"

  "Quit trying to send her to Arkay and I will."

  "Her soul is beyond reclamation!  Now, unless you want her trapped in eternal torment, allow me to finish the last rites."

  I found my eyes.  The lids were pinned by cold coins that tumbled off my cheeks as I opened them. The Altmer's weathered face hung over me, though it was turned toward a blurry figure on the other side of the room.

  "Those aren't Bosmeri last rites," I croaked.

  "Gwaihen!" cried Valindor, rushing across the room.  His hands were everywhere all at once, never quite settling as he crushed me against his chest.  After squeezing so hard I thought my ribs would bruise, he beamed triumphantly at the priest of Arkay.  "I told you she wasn't dead."  The Altmer gave a long-suffering sigh and handed a rough, leather-bound volume to the Bosmer.

  "Very well.  I take it you'll honor your oath.  Drunken, though it was," he replied darkly.

  "Oath?"  My head still didn't feel as if it was attached in the right direction.

  Val let go of me and shifted uncomfortably.  "It's nothing.  Just something we were discussing while you were 'asleep'."

  "Asleep!  Pah.  Your soul was nearly lost to the Soul Cairn.  That soulgem your friend had shattered when you read the Elder Scroll.  Your body has been nothing but a shell for days."

  "All that matters is that you're back!  I bet you're starving.  Sit right there.  Don't move!"  The Bosmer bustled over to the small firepit near my bookcase, where a pot sat bubbling with something that smelled questionable.

  In spite of his orders, I staggered out of bed on unsteady legs.  Runil, seizing the opportunity, pulled me to the side.  For a moment, we watched my fiend ladle to what appeared to be a stew, noting that he wouldn't stop smiling to himself.  It was infectious, but mildly annoying.  I the firelight, Val's eyes seemed hollowed, almost black with exhaustion.

  "Has he slept?"  I asked.

  "Not much.  The last time I saw his eyes closed was three days ago, shortly after he brought your body to me."

  I frowned, nodding in agreement.  "He's never been very good at taking care of himself.  Always buried in the drink whenever he had the opportunity."

  "He was worried about you."

  "I know."  The thought made me warm.  Derkeethus was right.  I did have someone to live for.

  "Take care of him, Gwaihen.  He's not like us--products of violence and death, hardened like stones.  He's still very much a boy at heart," the Altmer murmured into my ear, his face grave and drawn.  "He'd be good for you, I think."  At that moment, Valindor handed me a bowl of stew, which I drank greedily, forgetting my manners and eating with my fingers.  I mouthed a "Thank you" while he slowly consumed his own serving.

  Runil broke the silence first.

  "Well, I had better return to Falkreath.  The dead won't send themselves to the Beyond, you know."  He stretched and straightened his fraying robes with gnarled hands.

  "Thank you for all you've done," Valindor said.  The priest waved his hand dismissively.

  "It's a glorious day outside.  Why don't you get some fresh air.  It would do you both a world of good."  For the first time since I met him, his forlorn expression lightened, eyes taking on a sharp, knowing gleam that made him look far younger.

  We took his advice, and half an hour later, Val and I padded slowly across the property.  As we circumvented the house, I examined the tangled garden and unkempt smelter.  Rayya has been slacking.  A soft breeze ruffled my hair, easing the greasy feeling crawling along my scalp.  Behind the building, the yard grew rank with grass up to my knees, and the exterior walls had cracked in several places.  "Did you see Rayya when you came back here?" I asked.

  "No.  I didn't see any sign of her, nor did she ever come by while you were out."  My brow furrowed as we neared the edge of the property, heading down the hill toward the lake.  The forest around us thinned, the pines sporting large cones that were already a dark brown with the closing of summer.  "She probably just returned to her family.  You couldn't expect her to keep taking care of the house forever.  Plus, the Dawnguard have been lurking around here quite a bit.  I wouldn't be surprised if they scared her off."

  "You're right," I sighed.  For a few minutes we were silent as we relished in the fresh air.  It was nice to not feel harried by any quest or goal.  Though, that brought to mind the Elder Scroll.  "In the cave, when I read the scroll, it took me to the Soul Cairn, but the Elder Scroll didn't appear with us.  What happened to it, I wonder."

  "It disappeared.  I saw you and that Orc wrestling with it one moment, all of you disappearing the next. Dexion was still here when I brought you to Runil.  He said that's been known to happen, which is why the Moth Priests never try to actually count the scrolls.  Of course, he left shortly afterwards.  Wanted to return to the Imperial City.  I guess being out in the 'world' was too much for him."  Val chuckled, then seemed to remember himself and sobered.  "I don't blame him, though."

  At last, we reached the lake and strolled leisurely along its banks.  I regretted not digging my fishing rod out from under the bed.  It would have been nice to extend this moment of peace a little longer.  Still, I was happy enough to be free from the weight of Derk's death--as if I'd been forgiven for allowing it to happen in the first place.  Valindor kept glancing at me expectantly, until I told him about what happened in the Soul Cairn.  It took the better part of our walk to find the words to describe the strange events without sounding like I was insane, though Val didn't seem to mind either way.  I left out the Argonian's last words to me, shortening them to a simple farewell.

  "So, after all that, he just says 'Ta-ta, I'll see you as a lady lizard in my next life'?"

  "When will you stop calling him a lizard?" I asked tiredly.

  "When he stops being a conniving, greedy twit," he grinned lightheartedly.  I bit my tongue and chose to ignore that remark, remembering that Derk was, on more than one occasion, a little too greedy for his own good.  But he wasn't a twit, and I had appreciated his conniving nature.  

  

  "Anyway, no, that's not all he said.  The rest was a bit personal."  Unfortunately, that was all Valindor needed to tease me to no end about what he might have said.  His joking and jeering became so irritating that we graduated from trading verbal blows to shoving each other with our shoulders.  Until, at last, I pushed him so hard, he fell into the lake.  Soaking wet, he dragged himself to shore, looking more like a half-drowned cat than a Bosmer.

  We returned to the house sometime around sunset, and Valindor held the book Runil gave him in his lap, staring at the fire for a long time.  Eventually, he handed it to me and motioned for me to open it.  I flipped through the pages idly, scanning the fine scrawl that I recognized as the Altmer's handwriting.  It was a grisly account of the Great War and his service to the Aldmeri Dominion.

  "While we were trying to return your soul, I promised Runil we'd deliver this to an old friend of his in the Summerset Isles if he was able to wake you up.  He wanted to publish it.  I'm not sure what good it would do, but it was a promise.  We don't have to go now, of course."

  I nodded.  "We should enjoy this peace for a while, yet."

  And for a while we did.  The summer closed and fall passed in quiet relaxation.  Valindor came to live with Meeko and I, transporting what few belongings he had left in Solitude.  In his spare time, he composed a series of songs regarding our adventures and met relative success in the western holds of Skyrim.  Even the Bard's College recognized his talent, though they still touted their own organized training over any "amateur" approach.  Wherever we went, we found the Dawnguard keeping a careful eye on us, tailing us occasionally, but never confronting us directly.

  Through the winter, I started to feel anxious just staying inside.  I took to the forests more often, wandering farther than was necessarily safe.  Some days, I went to the Skyrim-Hammerfell border and looked out into the hills that, while no different, were in a different land all together.  I started to sell the books I accumulated over the years, gradually thinning down my possessions until I had only the essentials.  By the next spring, Valindor and I made preparations for a journey he'd long been hoping to take.

  "We're going to travel Tamriel for a while," I said, sitting at Runil's table in Falkreath's Dead Man's Drink.  Valindor was singing near the counter, having replaced Delacourt, who lost his voice to illness.

  "I see.  Well, I'm happy for you both, though Valga will miss having a bard."  The priest took a long swig from a goblet.

  "We're going to be stopping in Summerset Isles at some point," I continued, glancing meaningfully at my drinking companion.  He nodded, smiling a little.  "Perhaps we'll let you know of your journal's success."

  "I'd appreciate that.  There's information in that book that my people need to know.  Truths that are hidden from them.  I know it won't be enough to start a revolution, but perhaps it will open the Altmer's eyes to the path of recovery that lies before them.  When do you leave?"

  "In the morning.  We're heading for Hammerfell first.  Perhaps you'd like to give us a proper send off?"

  "Of course."

  At dawn, Valindor, Meeko, Runil, and I rode down to the southern gate of Skyrim.  The sky had clouded over a little and promised rain, just as it always did whenever I traveled.  I checked our bags one more time, knowing that it would be much harder to re-enter Skyrim than it would be to leave it.  Guards stood against the shadows of the portal, eyeing us suspiciously until I paid them enough coin to soothe their concerns.

  Runil clasped my hand in both of his, bowing lightly over them as was Altmer custom.  "Good luck, Gwaihen--Valindor.  I wish it weren't so, but Falkreath will be relieved to know you're gone. Now the Dawnguard can forget you exist and go back to terrorizing the undead instead of making the town nervous.  Nevertheless, farewell.  I'll miss having someone around who takes me seriously."

  "Goodbye, Runil.  May Arkay keep you."

  With that, we plodded under the gate, crossing into foreign lands bound to be stranger than the one we left.  Runil stood watching us until the guards closed and barred the great, wooden doors, sealing Skyrim away from the outside.  Ahead, something new awaited us, as it always would.

  Fin.