The room we found ourselves in was deserted. It appeared to be some sort of barracks, with beds lining one wall and a makeshift armory upon the other. The latter interested me much more, and I rushed to it. Taking a sword in my hand, I turned back to my companions to find them much in the same state as I had left them in.
Hoster had sunken upon one of the beds, great auburn head in his hands. Bilandis was on his feet, though he seemed more panicky than anything. I knew then that I needed to get them moving.
"Hoster," I said, holding out the sword to him. Startled, the Nord accepted, and the strucken look on his face suggested I had been a bit too harsh. Trying to soften my tone, I added, "We need you. You're the only one who knows the Keep."
"Barely," he countered. "I was only in here once or twice."
As he spoke, I was already moving to hand another sword to Bilandis. I tried to ignore the thought that the blade seemed to be nearly as tall as he was, for if he saw that on my face, he would refuse the sword on principle. Still, even though I held an impassive look on my face, Bilandis hesitated. Finally, he closed his fingers around the hilt, but found himself needing to hold the blade with both hands.
With a sullen look like that of a child confessing a crime to a parent, he looked up at me and confessed, "I forgot to grab my crossbow." Though I felt more than a slight frustration, I gave no rebuke and simply turned from him, heading further into the room.
"What about you?" Bilandis asked suddenly. Looking over my shoulder, I was shocked to see something I would not have initially thought possible. Upon that sharp, impish face was a look of desperate concern like to melt my heart. "Don't you need a weapon?"
Offering him a smile, I turned back to face the little fellow. Raising a hand, I let the magicka flow, and a spark danced across my palm.
"I'll be fine," I assured him with a wry smile. Despite our situation, it would be a lie to say that I was not looking forward to experimenting with the Destruction magic I had studied in my time in Cyrodiil. It had never seemed practical then, but now? I was glad for what knowledge I possessed. Still, though, I wore a dagger on my belt, in case my magic failed me.
It was in this manner that we departed the first room. Hoster was at the head of our party, holding his sword as though it were nothing but an extension of his arm. Behind him came Bilandis, struggling to keep hold of the blade, even when gripping it with both tiny hands. I brought up the rear with Meeko, who's rope I held tightly in one hand, despite my distaste for the beast. He seemed less like to run off now that we were inside, but I was not prepared to release him, even if it meant I had to keep a hold on him.
The Keep was abandoned, it seemed, and we did not come upon anyone until we descended a long stairwell and found ourselves in a torture chamber. As Hoster was leading us, the two Imperials in the room thought us Stormcloak fugitives and they moved towards us, one brandishing a sword and the other a massive axe. Before I could protest and explain the situation, Hoster had cut them both down with a precision that seemed almost inhuman. I could not describe how he had done it, for it occurred so quickly. I had not even registered what he had done before Hoster was exchanging his blade for the dead Imperial's battleax.
"Divines," Bilandis swore, drawing back and bumping against me. I caught him with my free hand, steadying him. "He- He killed them!" the merchant reported to me, stunned. Do not think for a moment that I was not startled by the offhanded blood-shed, but I had not the time to protest. With a shove less gentle than I might have intended, I urged Bilandis to follow Hoster, who was already moving around a corner and down a hall. Rushing, we caught up with him.
Resting the ax across his shoulder for a moment, Hoster spoke in a bellow of a voice. "There's a tunnel back this way, I believe. Should bring us back up a good ways from Helgen." I opened my mouth to make some sound of assent, but he continued on. "Then we can find a safe place to hide in the woods until the- whatever in Oblivion that was- moves on."
"Do what?" Bilandis snapped, incredulous. "No! When I get back above ground, I'm hauling my arse as far from Helgen as possible. If you want to stick around this pile of ash, you can be my guest, Nord, but I'll have no part of it!"
Rounding on him, Hoster shifted his ax into both hands. He towered over the merchant, and I did not doubt for a moment that he could destroy Bilandis with as much ease as the Dragon had leveled Helgen. "I don't recall asking you to come with me, Elf."
"Half-elf, thank you," Bilandis retorted with a mocking smile. I had half a mind to ask him what the other half was, but knew this wasn't the time. I stationed myself between them.
"Divines, would you both just... Quit? We can argue about this once we're out of Helgen, alright? First, we have to survive the escape, don't we? Now, please- Hoster, would you?"
Begrudgingly, the hulking mass of a Nord turned, scowling, away from the dispute and continued leading us down the tunnel. It was a dismal path we walked, and I seemed to be able to feel the tons of earth and stone above my head. Walls were close on both sides, but the path ahead seemed to have no end. With each step, I feared something else would bar our way. A cave-in would be the end of us, and the ground seemed to be shaking all around us, threatening to trap us. To survive the hellfire in Helgen just to be crushed underground? The idea was sickening, but I was not convinced the gods were above such tricks.
The tunnel wound into some strange subterranean cavern, through which a brook made its ambling way. Hoster continued to lead us, now branching off to follow the water. Still licking his wounds from the last spat, Bilandis's mouth remained remarkably shut, though Meeko voiced his opinions, which resounded through the small cavern. I almost felt my heart softening for a moment, but then I remembered at what cost Hoster had saved him. The little beast.
With nothing to occupy myself with save walking, I found myself focusing on the sound of the water pouring over itself. There was a comfort in it. A reminder of life. But more than that, the brook was tireless in its efforts. The brook did not surrender and it did not stop to complain about its constant motion. I sought inspiration from that lonely little stream, as strange as it may sound. And following its course, before long, the three of us- four if you count the dog, which I certainly didn't- could see a light.
The walk had been uneventful, save for a few bears and spiders, which Hoster and I managed quite easily, so the light was not only a sign of safety but an end to the horrible stillness of the caverns. As we stepped out into the blinding light, Meeko seemed to relax and Bilandis decided to put down his sword for a moment and take the leash. I moved to sit on a nearby stone and breathe in the pure, fresh air, but Hoster was tireless; he was already walking as if to head back to the gates of Helgen. Bilandis didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't seem to care. I almost expected Hoster to stop and urge us to follow him, but he did not. Axe in his hands, Hoster was getting further and further away and moving back to the city, which sat a good ways behind us on a hill. The screams were gone, but I could still hear the beating of wings and the hiss of the beast's fiery breath, not to mention that the vision of that Dunmer consumed in flames was still in my mind. I could not let Hoster walk back into that.
"Where are you going?" I asked dumbly, rising from my seat. Hoster turned and looked at me with a hideous scowl, a hateful look. His green eyes- I had not noticed their hue before- struck me down, and I almost shrunk back onto the rock, but I managed to stand tall under his gaze. "We need to get to safety."
Hoster stepped back towards us, and for a moment, I thought it was to strike me, but he stopped a few yards from our position. "I need to get my sister," he said, his voice gravelly, as if the words were caught back in his throat.
"Look, I understand--" I began, but Hoster's expression shut me up quite nicely. He did not even need to speak for me to read what he was trying to say. How could I understand? How could I possibly relate to grieving for someone? How could I understand human emotion? Anger bubbled up inside me, and I felt a spark dance across my fingertips. Not willing to let myself be bullied, I straightened my spine. "Hoster. We can't just walk right back in there after escaping. That- That thing is still in there! We need to get to safety, and then we can come back. Once it's safe!"
For a moment, I thought I'd reached him, but then he shook his head. "I didn't ask you to come with me, Elf. I'd rather you didn't." Hoster turned to go, and I let him.
Turning from him, I saw Bilandis, sitting on the ground. His wide eyes seemed to quiver as he looked up at me, but the moment my gaze fell upon him, he looked away. I averted my own eyes, wishing I had not seen that look.
"Hoster!" I called. The Nord, who had put quite a distance between us, stopped and glanced back at me. "We're coming with you."
