Chapter 92

The sounds of fire and conflict filled the burnt woods of Solstheim. Amid the charred tree trunks, Gaeolin, Inigo, and their companions fought with a desperation they had not faced in a long time. Gaeolin and Faendal were trying to maintain their range from the hulking werebears, their feet slipping in the drifts of ash beneath them. Inigo brandished his weapon at the closest of these creatures, too busy to make any of his usual remarks toward their foes. He resorted to reaching down for his ebony sword, wielding both blades just to fend off the monsters.

Auroth swung the heavy cudgel Inigo had given him with all of his might. He managed to strike one of the bears, the enchantment sending lightning throughout the mass of flesh and fur. The magic did not seem all that effective. The werebear seemed simply to grow more furious. It lunged toward the Altmer and tossed him aside. Elmond was dazed when he landed in the ash, his hammer getting lost in the volcanic debris a few feet away. He tried to stand, but he could not get a firm stance in the slipping dust beneath him. He looked at the bearman with an expression of true despair. He thought of trying a spell, but found himself frozen.

Teldiga leapt between the werebear and the battlemage. From within her robes, she pulled a rolled up, worn piece of paper. She flicked it open, tossing it into the air in front of her. It stopped, suspended in the space that separated the beast from its prey. The writing on the parchment flashed bright green that rivalled the sun. Teldiga put her palm toward the page. The light descended and wrapped around her body. Her hair rose as if charged with static. Her eyes shone with the same green light now. The young woman began to walk toward the werebear, her hands at her sides.

“Teldiga! Stop!” Auroth shouted. But she did not. The werebear looked at her, his face warped in a snarl. Gaeolin was about to loose an arrow at it, when he saw what was happening. The beast was not moving. It did not even breathe. Slow and steady, the brown of its fur gave way to the dead grey of stone. In only seconds, the creature was completely transformed into stone. One of the others charged Teldiga, bent on avenging its comrade. But as soon as it met her eyes, the second beast began to transform as well. Instead of questioning, the others focused their attention to the last of the attackers.

Gaeolin’s shot landed just beneath the bear’s jaw, causing it to yowl in pain. Faendal fired at the chest when it reared up, barely missing the heart. Inigo rushed behind it, jumping onto his back to clamber onto the monster’s shoulders. Once he reached the top, he brought the blades down in a deep jab. One on each side of the neck.

The werebear gave a final gasp, falling forward into the ash. Inigo leapt from his perch and landed in the dust with his feline grace. He wiped the blood from his ebony sword, placing it back in its sheath. Dawnbreaker was not soiled, having burned the blood from its blade with its own holy magic.

Teldiga dusted herself off, her eyes having lost their petrifying qualities. She made her way to where Auroth lay, offering a hand to him. “Not my best work, but I still think I could be a decent sculptor.”

Auroth eyed the stone werebears, once again feeling a bit of intimidation in regards to the girl. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Lost magic is easily impressive to those who don’t do what it takes to find it.”

Auroth grunted his agreement. “I would agree. I have to admit, I find that the cost for such power usually falls beyond the point where I can justify it.”

Inigo moved closer to one of the statues, grimacing at the implications of his inspection. “Did that hurt?”

Teldiga shrugged. “I’m not sure. I never really thought it was a good idea to try it for myself.”

Gaeolin was inspecting the body that had not been transformed. He was wondering if they should dress the beast when its body began to shimmer. He stepped back and knocked an arrow. Faendal had his hand on his dagger. The group watched as the creature reverted to its human form. The beast was now a scrawny Nord, his body covered in scars and injuries long since healed over. Auroth made his way to the scene.

“I wonder how he managed to find himself like this. It seemed unfair that anyone so young should be cursed like this.”

Gaeolin knelt beside the corpse. “It could have been anything. We all know how quickly the tides of fate can turn on us. We’ve all grappled with changes in our lives and in ourselves. This poor man was no different, I am sure. Had we not been enemies, we may have even found him under better circumstances. Perhaps helped him find a cure.” He stood, turning to Teldiga. “I should have listened to your warnings.”

“Yes, but there is no sense in dwelling on it. We have little choice now but to keep moving. Staying out at night here is even more dangerous than travelling.”

The Bosmer looked down to the body. “We should give him a burial.”

Teldiga sighed, lifting her hand. A small spark of flame drifted from her palm and hovered above the body. It traced an oblique shape above the cadaver in thin lines of fire. They gave off a very faint smoke, threatening to go out. Once the last lines were connected, the fire steadied and waited for its master. Teldiga closed her eyes. “Winds of Aetherius, bear this lost soul forward unto its final rest. May peace find him in death that life was not kind enough to bestow. Father Arkay, by your flames, render his body to dust, that the dark forces of Nirn may not trouble him in his next life by chaining him to this one. Mara, comfort him on his way. Kynareth, blow his ashes home, to the lands which bore him. May his remains help to bring new life to them. Stranger, may the blessings of the eight travel with you, and the turn of the wheel cause you no more pain.” The flames shone bright gold, growing hotter and matching the intensity of Dawnbreaker. The group shielded their eyes. Once the light had faded, they turned back to find nothing more than a slight mound in the ash where their foe had fallen.

Gaeolin nodded. “Not what I had in mind, but probably a better funeral.”

“This way, there is nothing that a necromancer could use to defile him. As an added bonus, he will also not be eaten by scavengers. It was a funerary right from the nobility of High Rock.” She gave a fragile smile. “A burial fit for a king.”

The party continued westward for nearly an hour before they found themselves blocked by the strange terrain that stood to the northeast of Raven Rock. The strange, hexagonal stone cliffs were too high at this point to descend safely, and beyond them were the sharp cliffs of the mountains themselves.

“If I remember correctly,” Auroth leaned on his hammer, “a route along the coast would involve a great deal of swimming, and still require us to scale a cliff to reach the Water Stone.” Inigo let out a groan at the thought.

“Not to mention we would have passed that accursed barrow again… I escaped those walking corpses fair and square! I do not wish to go anywhere near them any time soon.”

Faendal looked back to the Northeast. “Could we take Moesring Pass and turn back West once we are on the other side of the mountains? It will be colder, but a little less risky.”

Teldiga picked at her sleeve absently. “It would be the sensible route to take. Though, if this is what you choose, I recommend a night’s sleep before going. Reiklings frequent the pass, and it is not impossible that we may run into more werebears or other dangers on the climb.”

Gaeolin was inclined to agree. “We’ve made a lot of progress, despite this obstacle. I think we could use a rest and a meal. Let’s set up camp. Inigo, would you mind looking for some clean water for cooking? I don’t think we have enough in our skins to manage such a large stew.”

“Of course my friend!” He set off, humming to himself as he went. Auroth began gathering kindling and larger branches to build the fire with. Gaeolin and Faendal set to work on the tents, struggling to find a spot that had firm enough ground to hold the stakes. Teldiga waited until Faendal was no longer working to ask him a question.

“Faendal, may I go now? The danger has passed, and I will be of far more help to you if I can go back to Apocrypha and study what I can about Miraak and his little insurrection. Also,” she seemed embarrassed, “I am not accustomed to so much social interaction. I would feel more comfortable alone with some books.”

He nodded, his face a little sad. “If you wish. You can return if you change your mind though. I would like for you to try and think of us as friends. We appreciate your help.”

The girl seemed even more uncomfortable. “I know. Maybe in the future. I’m not ready for that yet though. Thank you, master. If you need me, please use the bell.” She bowed to Gaeolin, turning to disappear into one of her green portals.

Faendal resumed his work on their tent. “Is cosúil go bhfuil si chomh caillte.” (She seems so lost.)

“I know what you mean. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to spend so long alone in that library. However, she did make it clear that she chose this life for herself. Maybe it would be wise to avoid trying to force her from what she is used to.”

“No one should have to be alone for so long, Gaeolin.”

“I agree with you. But maybe with Teldiga, it is better just to be there for her to choose the change. It isn’t our choice or right to tell someone that their way of living is wrong. Besides, I don’t think she was being completely honest with her reasons for not wanting to stay.” He could see Auroth coming back with the firewood. “Let her be for now. I have a feeling she’ll come around.”

The three of them started the fire, waiting for Inigo to return with the water. By the time the Khajiit had returned, what little natural light was left from the day had been all but spent. He threw down six skins full of water, looking as though he had crossed the whole island just to find it. “I am sorry, my friends. Every pool and stream I came across seemed to have one or more reasons to not trust the water. I had almost given up when I reached a small stream of snow melt coming down from the mountains. I hope you are not too put out by the wait.”

Faendal gave a kind expression. “Honestly, I was just glad for the rest. Is this how our adventures go all of the time? So much fighting is tiresome. “

“Agreed, but there is little that can be done about it.” Auroth took one of the waterskins, drinking deeply from it. “I will say that I could not hope for more capable travelling companions. I might not say it in so many words, but I enjoy your company immensely. It is good to be with people who want me around for once.”

“It feels like another lifetime,” Gaeolin stared into the fire, “that day in the cave where we first met. You were quite set to burn me where I stood.”

Auroth gave a grunt of amusement. “Vampires are not creatures I trifle with. I am glad I did not, however. Think how many lessons we would not have learned from each other. We’ve both grown so much in the time we have known one another.”

Inigo wore a grin so large, Gaeolin was certain his face was about to split in half. “Look at us! Altmer, Bosmer, and Khajiit. Taking on the world together! We are the stuff of legends, my friends! I wonder what sorts of songs will be sung about our heroic deeds in the years to come.”

Gaeolin laughed, taking up a jaunty tune. “North came a Khajiit through the Jeralls, his eyes full of fire, quite feral; He slaughtered the hares, and romanced the bears; Never straying too far from new perils!”

Inigo’s grin was enormous. He joined in the song, picking up with the same tune. “He met a Bosmer, a wandering refugee. A man sad and alone, devoid of glee. keen was his eye, how his arrows would fly, twas no greater archer than he!”

They sang until the sky above them was a deep, true black. Countless stars looked down on them as they eventually settled into their bedrolls for sleep. Auroth took the first watch, his hammer propped next to the stone he sat on. From his pipe rose a faint stream of smoke. Every so often, the light from the smoldering herbs would cast his features in a deep orange glow. The Altmer kept looking up towards the sky, perhaps counting the stars. Gaeolin lay with his own gaze directed to the heavens. Try as he might, he could not find rest.

His thoughts were on his father, Glareleb. For the longest time his face had been something Gaeolin could not recall. But tonight, looking up at the soft twinkle of the stars, his features came sharply into his mind. Gaeolin could remember his light brown hair, pulled back into a braid that had ended just above his waist. His skin had been darker than anyone else in Woodhearth. He would spend so long in the sun that his mother would scold him for it. And his eyes, the same bright turquoise as his son’s. Though he had been young when the purge had come to his home, Gaeolin could still remember helping his father with the skins and leathers. He had enjoyed being helpful, and watched him work for long hours. The way he would carve the hides with the motifs of their people was mesmerizing. The soft sound of his knife being stropped for cutting filled his ears.

‘My son, I may not be a great warrior, as my father was before me. I have no deeds that are spoken or sung by bards or scholars. But even I have a legacy that will live on until my bones are returned to the earth.’ He had handed Gaeolin a small coin purse. There was a decorative antelope carved into the face, with vines all around it. ‘My work will be cared for by those who hold them dear, or depend on them for survival. Decades from now, an archer may use one of my quivers to hold the arrows that will help him feed his family. A man need not be a legendary hero to leave his mark on the world. Knowing a craft, and honing it is just as noble. Fame, wealth, and glory? These are fine things. But as long as your efforts in life are true, and you remember who you are, the legacy you leave will be one worthy of remembrance.’ Gaeolin shivered, almost feeling his fathers arms around him. ‘You are my son, Gaeolin. No matter your path, I will always be proud of you. I will always love you. Molag Bal could not change that, and no force on Nirn will ever hope to.’

Gaeolin sat up, his heart trembling in his chest. He blinked quickly to clear the blurring from his vision. He made to stand, being stopped by a hand on his arm. Faendal was holding his sleeve. Without opening his eyes, he muttered. “Where are you going? I was comfortable.”

Gaeolin squeezed his hand. “It’s time for my watch. Try to get some sleep.”

Faendal grumbled, but rolled over regardless. Gaeolin rose, making his way to where Auroth smoked. The High Elf looked at him with amusement. “It is not your watch. “

“I can’t sleep anyway.” He brushed his bangs aside, turning his face skyward. “What are you looking at up there?”

Auroth pointed. “Mithlas, that bright star to the north east. According to family history, it was named after my Father’s Father’s Father. I only met him once. He was so very old… I genuinely hope that I do not live so long myself. The races of man covet elven timelessness, though I feel they do not know the price that long years can demand.” Auroth tapped his pipe against the stone to remove the spent herbs. “I like to watch that star, when I can see it clearly. It is an everlasting monument to my family, and those in it who even now would be glad to see me. I fear that none of them yet live, as a result of my rebellion against the Thalmor.”

Gaeolin sat with him. “I was just thinking of my father. I didn’t think I would feel such a strong sense of loss after so long.”

“Time does not make the pain of loss any less harsh. Sometimes, we can almost convince ourselves that we are past the agony.” He gave a sad smile. “But then we remember something that we shared with them, or find something they would have found fascinating. The sorrow of those conversations that will never be is among the greatest pains I know. You were young, of course, but if you do not mind my asking,” the Altmer turned to him, “did you and your father have regrets? Did you have words left unsaid that burn your heart?”

Gaeolin shook his head. “We were very close, and I know that he was aware of my love for him.”

Auroth gave a nod. “Then you are fortunate. Not everyone has such comfort. Come, sit with me. We will hold a vigil for our ancestors together.”

They watched the night sky roll by, not a word spoken as the sky began to lighten with the promise of a new dawn. Their journey was not over, and as the sun crested the horizon, Gaeolin thought that every end was possibly just hiding the start of another adventure. He hoped that his father was well, in that life beyond their own.