Inigo felt his fur stand on end as the sounds of the mysterious mantra floated up from the wind stone. The Skaal villagers worked without thought of the men approaching them. Gaeolin ignored them, thinking instead of what would happen if their plan did not work. What could he do if this failed? He couldn’t just leave Faendal to slave for Miraak. There had to be some other way. He brushed these thoughts out of his mind. Whatever happened here, Auroth was still with Master Neloth. Surely those two would have some sort of plan.
He stepped into the pool of water that surrounded the stone. Somehow, the pool had not frozen in spite of the cold of the mountain climate. The wood elf reached out with his mind to the spirit stone. He could feel the dark power that infested it, winding the alien will into the hearts of the nords nearby. He reached for the word he had just learned, willing it to impose his will over the monument. “Gol.”
The earth shook with the shattering of the spell. The stone shone bright with a bluelight that mimicked the midday sky. The workers stopped, blinking at the light that they only now could see. The stonework they had labored over began to grack. There was thunder, and a metallic squeal that made them all cower.
From the pond emerged a terrifying sight. Like a giant, but it’s head and torso were wreathed in hideous tentacles. It glared at Gaeolin with countless black eyes, roaring in fury at the elf. Gaeolin took his bow, the limbs damp from their recent time in the snow, and started firing. Inigo shot as well, but spent most of his time trying to coral the bystanders away from the battle. Gaeolin had to jump out of the way as the Lurker hurled a chunk of masonry at him. He staggered to his feet, swinging his bow onto his back in favor of his sword. He sprinted toward the beast sliding between its legs to cut the tendon. The lurker reeled, falling against the monolith with an amazing amount of weight.
Inigo was ready. Dawnbreaker in hand to finish the beast off. The golden blade shone as its daedric master cried out. “Traitorous beast! You have turned against your true master! Feel the wrath of the Daedra by my fire! You will not betray my sibling so easily!”
The abomination burst into flames, the fire burning brighter than the sun above. With a howl it faded back into whatever dimension it had been bound to. Gaeolin caught his breath, nodding his thanks to Inigo. The Khajiit cleaned the blood from his weapon. “Meridia does not seem to be fond of these things either, my friend. I fought one before, and am glad I did not have to repeat the experience by myself. How are you doing?”
“Better, now we know that this shout works.” He grinned at the villagers, hugging some of them as they thanked him. “Come on, we should guide them back to the village. I’m sure Storn and Frea would want to hear about this.”
The group was welcomed back to the village with a large bonfire. The smell of roasting meat and steaming fish caused both Gaeolin and Inigo to realize their hunger. Frea seemed happier than Gaeolin could have ever imagined. She was laughing and greeting her friends, clearly recovering from the thought that she had lost them for good. After a while she made her way to the Bosmer, hugging him as well. “Thank you, for everything that you have done for my people.”
Storn found him, his face wide and his wrinkles long in joy. “Thank you, child. The Skaal are safe once again. But I must tell you that this is only a small victory in the war for Solstheim.”
“I know.” The wood elf let his concern show. “I can‘t imagine he will sit idly after this.”
“Indeed not. I fear that he will be all the more terrible as a result of your actions here.” He looked to the south, the smoke of the Red Mountain rising from Morrowind blotting the otherwise clear sky. “But with the power you have now, you can lessen his hold on our land.”
“What should I do, Storn?”
“I would suggest you continue to free the spirit stones around the island. They are the All-Maker’s tethers to us. With the stones corrupted as they are, she cannot help us fight off Miraak’s darkness. The totems of water, tree, earth, and sun still need to be freed. If you do this. I can promise that Miraak will be easier to defeat.”
“I will make it my mission,” the Bosmer turned to look west, “but I have something that I must do first.”
The shaman nodded. “I wish you luck on your journey, Skaal friend. But before you go, I have to ask. While you were in Apocrypha, did the demon approach you?”
Gaeolin felt the hair on the back of his neck stand. “Demon?”
“If he has not yet, he soon will. I fear that he will ask terrible things of you. There is risk that you may walk down Miraak’s road, and fall prey to the same temptations that broke him. Take care that you avoid this.” Gaeolin was left confused, wondering what, and whom the old man was talking about. He did not ponder the mystery for long, gathering the provisions needed for their trip back to Raven Rock.
It was evening when they entered the bulwark. The Redoran Guard nodded to them, eyeing the late arrivals with the traditional amount of suspicion. Inigo struggled to keep up, but did not try to ask his friend to slow. Gaeolin felt his heart pounding, his legs burning in protest to his pace. He ignored the pain. It was finally here. The whole reason he had traveled this far. The chant entered his ears, his mind filtering for one voice among the many.
“Bhi ar lamha aon uair amhain doimhaoin…” Faendal’s voice rang clear over the murmur. Gaeolin stared, drawing his blade in preparation.
“Inigo,” he nodded to the shore, “get him away from the fight. Keep him safe.”
Nodding his agreement, Inigo took his place as Gaeolin once again asserted his will on the stone. The skies darkened with unnatural clouds. The workers all stopped, looking about in confusion as the magic gave way. “Inigo! Go!” The lurker rose from the water, pummeling the surface in fury. The dunmer who had been working on the shrine ran from the beast. Gaeolin had already begun his attack when the sound of the Redoran horn split the air. He slashed at the nearest set of tentacles, removing them from the hand with one strike.
The lurker seemed dazed by the loss of its appendage. The countless eyes inspected the limb at the expense of fighting off the one who had inflicted the damage. Gaeolin took advantage of this lapse, charging in with his sword raised high. He managed to slice down the other arm, causing the water to stain with a putrid green blood.
Now the creature gave him its attention. With a growl, it stomped toward him with every intention of smashing the Bosmer into a pulp. Gaeolin didn’t allow the beast to get close enough to enact this plan. The water dripped off of his shoulders as he regained his footing.
He was ready to press the attack again, but was thrown off balance by another round of flailing. He could hear the onlookers cry out before he hit the water. His ears filled, sound falling away. He could see the shadow of his enemy approaching behind him. He pushed himself up with his head still spinning. Part of him worried that he wouldn’t recover in time.
As his ears cleared, he heard the sound of footfalls in the water. The lurker gave out a furious howl as someone attached it from behind. Gaeolin turned, wondering if Inigo had joined the scuffle. But instead, he saw blond hair, sharp features, the man holding an axe as his makeshift weapon. “Leave him alone, namhaid!” Faendal swung the pick axe with all of his strength. The lurker’s leg gave way, forcing it down to a manageable height. Gaeolin rushed forward, bringing his weapon down, running the blade through the monstrous face in finality.
The crowd murmured as they closed in on the scene. Was the monster dead? Where had it come from? Faendal dropped the tool in his hand, looking down at the otherworldly remains. Gaeolin stood straight, panting after the fight. The pair met each other’s gaze. Gaeolin dropped his sword. “An bhfuil tú gortaithe?” [1]
“Uimh.” The world felt deathly quiet. If others around were speaking, neither of them noticed. Gaeolin thought he might go mad if he stood there any longer. He clenched his fists, starting toward Faendal with increasing speed. The look on Faendal’s face was one of concern.
“Wait, I’m sor-“
He was cut off. Gaeolin pulled him close, pressing his lips to him with such force that they nearly fell to the ground. Faendal froze, his eyes wide at the kiss. When Gaeolin finally stopped, his face was red. “Ni chuinfidh mé in iúl duit arís.” [2] He reached into the shirt he wore, pulling out the amulet that was hidden there. “Are you still interested?”
Faendal stared, his cheeks deepening in color as he replied. “Suimiúil.” [3] He pulled Gaeolin in for another kiss, the sun gleaming through from the west as if the gods themselves thought it right.
Translated lines:
1 ) Are you hurt?
2 ) I will never let you be captured again.
3 ) Fascinated.
Mapes Fiction Publication 