Chapter Eighty Two

Something about the mouth of the cave felt unnatural. As the party journeyed inwards, the air became ever more stale and unwelcoming. Auroth summoned a torch to light the way. It hovered and bobbed in between them, casting shadows over the ice and stone. Inigo had his ears pinned back, his face frozen an image of utmost danger toward anyone who dared oppose them. Dawnbreaker also cast light onto the walls, though unlike the torch it did not reflect the same way. It acted more like a mist. It slid along the floor at Inigo’s feet, not unlike a faithful pet walking with its master.

Gaeolin had his sword at the ready as well. Not knowing how much room the cave would afford further inside, he felt much more comfortable using his blade. The steel was starting to show its age. When he stopped to think about it, he had taken it from that bandit so long ago. It felt like a lifetime. Maybe it was time to consider buying something new. After all, he did seem to be using it a lot more than he had ever expected. He pushed those thoughts a side as he heard noises down the path ahead.

It was a set of voices. Crackling, hideous voices. Voices that Gaeolin could recognize only too well. He ordered the others to crouch down. They sneaked toward the end of the tunnel, a large cavern opening before them. There was a fire burning beneath a large cauldron. The fumes were so vile that the Bosmer nearly retched once he caught them. Beneath his blue fur, inigo was surely paled. Their suspicions were confirmed when a hagraven emerged from within a lopsided tent. The claws on her feet clicked with malice against the cold floor. Two others emerged from the dark extremes of the cave. The first gave the brew a stir, eyes darting to the nearest of the others.

“If a hagraven could look pleased with itself, Auroth imagined the closest he would ever come to seeing it was on Fallaise’s withered face, “I am honored, Isobel. May the dark lord smile upon our works!”

The third witch seemed much less impressed. “She merely got lucky. It has been months since anyone has come this way. She wasn’t even that pretty. The master wants the pretty ones.”

“Silence, Ettiene! Envy does not become you. The master has no pity. Least of all for you.” Isobel brought the spoon she stirred with up and to her face. Gaeolin stifled another wave of nausea as the creature sampled their potion. “It is almost ready. Tonight, we will begin gathering the last of the needed sacrifices. Perhaps some of the Nord children from the village?”

Gaeolin tightened his grip on his blade. He looked to Auroth and Faendal, both of them nodding that they were ready. Inigo also gave the affirmative, stepping aside for Faendal to aim his opening shot.

Within moments the cave was alight with fire and violence. The witches cried out in alarm, sending gouts of flame, ice, and lightning across to the intruders. Auroth deftly waved their spells aside. He used his hammer as a focus, weaving a whirlwind of ice toward them. Gaeolin and Inigo broke off for different sides of the cave. Gaeolin made for the left hand side, climbing up the rocks to try and gain an advantage on the beasts. Fallaise saw him, screaming in fury at the wood elf. She leaped at him, her fingers bearing long, sharpened talons at their tips. She slashed with her right hand first, missing him by only the width of a hair. Her left hand followed soon after and caught his sleeve. The fabric tore, four long gashes exposing his skin in the wake of the assault. Not waiting for her to recover , he brought his blade around to cut her leg just below the knee. Her wail of agony echoed off of the ice and stone. She rolled away, shrouding herself in an invisibility spell.

On the other side of the cavern, Inigo sparred with Ettiene. She had conjured a wicked dagger, the blade of which pulsed with a strange cloud of noxious fumes. The Khajiit was taking great care to stay out of her range, using the length of his sword as a measuring stick to ensure he was not getting close enough for harm. The Hagraven hissed in frustration at her opponent’s skill. Inigo grinned, dancing around her strikes with ease. “You die like the rest when you mess with the best!” He gave a theatrical flourish of his sword, bringing it down to cleave her head from her shoulders in a single blow.

Isobel could see that things were not going in the favor of her small coven. She snarled, retreating to her tent with a quick wave of her hands. A pair of headless skeover corpses nearby sprang up from their death to challenge them. Auroth gripped his hammer tighter, golden light shining out from the head to wash the room in holy magic. The zombies covered away, their flesh beginning to boil as the Altmer drew closer. Faendal sent more arrows toward the tent, hoping that they might strike their enemy through the aged skin that was stretched over the timbers.

A strange purple light began to spill out of the tent. The air went chill, and the steel of their weapons frosted over. Isobel’s voice broke as she cast the foul spell to summon her master. Gaeolin scrambled up to her shelter with his sword ready. Before she could finish the casting, he ran her through with as much strength as he could manage.

She coughed, blood coming out to pour down her neck. She looked back at him with an unsettling smile. He frowned at her, not hearing that Fallaise had appeared behind him. She had her arms raised, ready to make her kill.

The sound of an arrow imbedding into her skull made Gaeolin turn around. Faandal lowered his bow with a nod to Gaeolin’s silent thanks. He picked up a bit of tattered cloth to wipe the blood from his weapon. Inigo joined him, grimacing at the collection of grotesque ingredients and mounted heads. “These witches are not very charming. And their culinary exploits are unfortunate.”

“I think I’ve had enough experience with Hagravens to last me a few lifespans. I’m just glad we found them before they took anyone else.” Gaeolin inspected his tunic. “I think I’m starting to warm up to the idea of armor. That one was a little too close for comfort.”

“Maybe one of the shops in Raven Rock would have something that will work for the moment.” Faendal shook his head. “We should have stayed there and looked. However, I have to admit that our timeliness was for the best in this instance.”

Auroth nodded. “Agreed. Now, if we are all in agreement on the next matter, can we please get out of this cave. I can’t take much more of this stench.”

The fresh air was a welcome change. Though, the evening had grown much colder during their time inside. The sky was beginning to take on hints of purple and pink. Night was not far off, and Gaeolin didn’t like the idea of making camp so near the cave. The location of their camp fire would have to do, as there were few alternatives that provided any shelter.

“we should rest near the cliff for the moment. I don’t want us to take on the rieklings without getting our strength back. The fire should still be going , we just need to set up the tents.”

“If we stayed close enough to the fire, ” Auroth injected, “we could probably get by with just our bedrolls.”

“I honestly feel that we will only need a few hours rest, my friend.” Inigo was inspecting one of his arrows. The fletching had frayed, making it essentially useless. “That will also give us the benefit of darkness to sneak up on them. The stealthy approach has many advantages.”

They all settled in to rest, the night wind soft but cold, Gaeolin tried his best to sleep. In spite of his efforts, his mind was far too busy thinking about his future. He couldn’t help but remember Mora’s ominous warning that He would fail without his help. Gaeolin had never been keen on the idea of taking the help of Deadra before. Even with Meridia’s blade having helped them considerably, he knew the only reason she had allowed them to take the artifact was because the situation suited her goals.

Would it really be such a bad thing for the Skaal to share their knowledge with the Prince? What information could they have that was so precious that it was worth dooming the world to protect? On the other hand, what could simple hunters know that a god-like being would want, or need? It made his head hurt to try and riddle it out. And if he did give Mora what he wanted, what would that mean for him? The Prince had already made plain that as long as he sought knowledge, he would be his servant. Something about that didn’t sit well with him.

“Nil tú do chodladh. (You aren’t sleeping.)” Faendal was perched atop a small cairn of rocks, watching the road to the south. “It was your idea to rest, What’s keeping you?”

“The Woodland man…” Faendal nodded. “The age old trickster. You are smart to be wary of his offer.”

“I can’t exactly ignore it, though. I can’t dismiss something that would level the odds against Miraak.”

“I’m not saying ignore it. Just keep your mind sharp. I know you, and that you’ll never forgive yourself if you let something awful happen because of this. And I can tell you now, something awful will happen. I do not know what, but something will happen. Try not to blame yourself when it does. There is no clean bargain with the Deadra.”

There was no need to respond. He knew Faendal was right. “Maybe the most troubling part of all of this is my temptation to see what I can gain from it.’

Faendal turned to him with an expression of severity. “Nothing good can come of it. You know that.”

“But I might be able to learn something that will help me better protect you, and Ma’isha. I’ve already failed you both once.”

“You’re being foolish, and needlessly hard on yourself. What happened was beyond your control. If you have shown nothing else during these past weeks, it is that you will go to any length to protect your family. I have no doubts in your abilities. But I will never forgive you if you sacrifice who you are for my sake. The cost at that point is far too much.”

They looked up at the sky for a while. The clouds shifted, granting a view of the stars. Against the ever darkening blue, they seemed so pristine. Not for the first time, Gaeolin wondered at what the stars really were. According to some, they were the Gods themselves, obscured and broken to ensure that the entire heaven was under their watch. He had heard once insist that they were in fact large bodies of burning gas. Were either of these true? Jould they both be true? If only it were possible to fly that high, to find out for sure. “I appreciate you.”

Faendal smiled. “And I you, mo grà.” A howl came from the mountains, the call making both of them think of their home in Falkreath. “As much as I know you will object, I am glad I have been able to join you on this journey.”

“Spoken as if you had a choice in the matter.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “I know, but I still feel like this has been a good chance to see what sort of experiences you have when you aren’t at home.”

Gaeolin shook his head. “Will I have to fight you to leave home again?”

“Not at all. This is who you are, and the world is all the better for it. I wouldn’t dare try to interfere with that.”

Gaeolin joined him on the rock, leaning against him. “It’s been nice having you here as well.” He turned to look behind them. Inigo was snoring, his tail twitching in dreams. Auroth’s chest was rising and falling in an even rhythm. “Should we wake them?”

“In a few minutes.” Needing no further debate, Gaeolin rested his head on the elf’s shoulder to rest as the night passed on.