The sun shone high in the sky, its light warming the world weary province of Cyrodiil . Cool shadows drifted to and fro underneath the canopy of trees. The forest slept peacefully in the cool breeze, their branches swaying softly in the light. The Oblivion crisis was over, and the world deserved a rest. Leyawin was quiet, its inhabitants enjoying the warmth and peace, and Blackwood was in a state of tranquility. Everything was calm.
Or maybe not.
Lithe bent down to examine the mushrooms, his silver flecked grey eyes studying it intently. Grey cap, bluish stem. This was the one the Mages Guild associate hired him to find. He drew a dagger and carefully cut the stem's base. With his right hand, he pinched the stem and held it at eye level. The cap is poisonous, the stem is harmless the mage had said. He slipped the dagger back into its sheath.
"Who am I to disagree with a mage?" he said out loud, smiling ruefully. With his free hand, he grabbed the thick burlap sack at his waist and placed the mushroom in with the others. He glanced at his left hand holding the sack. A gauntlet of crystal encased his hand and forearm, the sun's light reflecting off of its silvery facets. A memory flashed through his mind.
"For your service mortal, I grant you a gift: The gauntlet of Order. May it serve you well in your upcoming trials. However, be ready, mortal, for I will have need of your services in the future," a booming voice said. Lithe knelt, his head bowed in awe at the splendor and power of the Daedric Prince before him.
"I go now to rebuild my realm. Use your time wisely."
The Prince departed, and Lithe suddenly felt the flesh of his left forearm burn away, disintegrating sinew and bone. The brightly colored world of the Shivering Isles swam in his vision, and as the pain spiked, he was lead mercifully into the darkness of unconsciousness.
Lithe shook his head, clearing away the memory. He gazed down at his silvery appendage. A great gift, and a small sacrifice. He'd woken up on the stone bridge south of the Imperial City with the gauntlet for his forearm and hand. It was made of indestructible Order crystal, and Jyggalag had blessed it with powerful abilities. A grand gift indeed.
He tied the sack back to his waist and walked to a nearby pool. The ruins of an old fort sat nearby, decrepit and decaying. Cyrodiil was pockmarked with the ancient stone buildings, remnants of an era gone by. Bending down to fill his water skin, he studied his reflection in the water. Short black hair framed his face, accenting his silver flecked grey eyes. His jaw was strong, but not box like. An armless black shirt hugged his slim but muscled form, and a caplet covered his shoulders, matching a pair of black pants. A leather pack hung loosely off one shoulder. Not too shabby for an Imperial orphan of nineteen.
A twig snapped somewhere behind him. Lithe froze, holding perfectly still. No noise but for the chirping of birds. He glanced at the reflection in the water, his eyes moving just so.
Not good.
Lithe spun around, gauntlet leading in a punch. It connected with an Orc's upraised wooden club, splintering it under the force of the crystal appendage. The Orc's face registered surprise right before Lithe hit him squarely in the face with his right hand. The green man stumbled back, face in his hands. Lithe took in the whole scene at once, facing his enemy.
As he said before, not good.
Behind the Orc was a male Nord with an axe. Next to him was a female Redguard with a whip. And behind both them all, an Altmer mage.
NOT GOOD.
Both the Nord and the Redguard lunged around the Orc, the Nord right, the Redguard left. Lithe activated one of the powers of his gauntlet, the crystal slightly glowing blue. Before Lithe move, a small rock slammed into the back of his head. He staggered forward, disoriented, and the last thing he saw was the Orc's fist filling his line of sight.
"Mishkall, wake him."
Lithe awakened to water splashing on his face. He gasped and sat up, eyes wide. He realized three things then. One, his hands had bracers on them, and they were linked together by what felt like chain. Two, the bracers were silencing him magically, preventing him from using his powers. And three, the Nord was standing right in front of him, axe held next to Lithe's face menacingly.
Really good situation to be in.
Lithe opened his mouth to speak, but the axe moved closer to his face.
"Rule one, shut up. No talking. Rule two, do as you're told or you'll get hurt. Rule three, try to run away and we'll kill you. Got it?" the Nord said in a low voice. Lithe nodded slowly, mindful of the axe in front of his face.
"Now get up," Lithe complied to the best of his ability, hindered by his cuffed hands.
"Lairthn, did you find anything useful in his pack?" the Nord asked, turning to the Altmer sitting on a nearby rock.
"Just an extra set of clothes and this crystal, plus a little gold," the Altmer said, holding up a hand sized metallic silver crystal.
"What's it worth?" the Redguard asked, swinging her whip absently.
"Not enough," the Nord said. "Boric ordered everything to be taken along with the slave."
Slavers. Great.
Lithe just stood there as they talked, mind working overdrive. The silencing bracers behind his back were the main problem. He would be able to take on all of them if he could use the gauntlet. And, to top it all off, they'd taken his dagger.
"Lairthn, pack up. We're supposed to meet Gauz-ra later today," the Nord said, coming to stand by Lithe. "Move," he said, shoving Lithe toward the trees. The Altmer packed up Lithe's things and came after them, with the Redguard bringing up the rear. About a minute later, the Orc showed up, a black eye marring his already ugly features, and fell in step behind them. Lithe trudged on, in silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a shadow flitting in between the trees, a bow slung on its back.
That's where the rock came from Lithe realized. Sunlight streamed through breaks in the canopy, warming Lithe as he passed beneath them. Suddenly, the Nord stopped, glancing around the clearing they were in. He seemed to find it, because he turned to the rest of them and said, "We're here. Gauz-ra should be here soon." They stood in the shadows, everything silent but for the sounds of the forest and the breathing of the slavers.
They didn't have to wait long. Lithe soon heard the clink of armor and of twigs snapping beneath booted feet. A group of slavers soon came out of the trees to the left and into the small clearing.
"Gauz-ra, right on time," the Nord said from the shadows they stood in. An Argonian in the group looked toward the voice, his reptilian eyes making out their forms in the shadows.
"Ah, I see you have found your prey. We've had luck in our hunt also," the Argonian said, tugging on a chain with a Dunmer attached to it. The Dark Elf staggered forward. The Nord holding Lithe's chain walked forward and Lithe had no choice but to follow. They came into the light.
"Find anything good on him?" the Nord asked. Lithe glanced at the other prisoner. He looked to be sixteen or seventeen years old, slim, with blue black hair that hung past his eyes. He was shirtless, with numerous scars on his torso and arms. All he was wearing was a pair of dirty and battered shorts, worn through in some places. The Dark Elf's eyes were hidden in the shadows of his hair, and his shoulders were slumped forward in weariness.
"Believe it or not, we did. Look at this," the Argonian said, waving to a helmeted slaver holding a long thin package wrapped in cloth. The slaver quickly unwrapped it, and Lithe's eyes widened in awe. It was a spear of incredible workmanship. The tip was of smooth steel, with a single barb facing up. The shaft was polished wood, and it ended with a steel stud at the bottom. The Nord whistled appreciatively.
"Nice. Must have been stolen though. How could a kid get something like this?" the Nord asked. The Argonian shrugged as the slaver wrapped the spear back up. Lithe noticed the Dunmer's eyes were fixed upon the retreating form of the spear.
"Did he have anything worthwhile?" The Argonian asked, waving toward Lithe.
"Nah, just some clothes and a weird crystal. Anyway, we should get going. The boss won't be happy if we're late," the Nord replied. The Argonian nodded back.
"Link the slaves," the Argonian said. A slaver came with the Dunmer and linked the Dark Elf to Lithe's chain so that they were standing side by side.
"Go," the Nord said. and then they were back to marching. Lithe trudged after the slavers, glancing over at the Dunmer every so often. The elf's eyes were in shadows, but Lithe caught a glimpse of the customary red of the Dunmeri people. The Dunmer stumbled every so often, causing the slavers to curse at him. Lithe didn't know if it was from exhaustion or the fact that the Dunmer didn't have shoes.
The sun was starting to set when they finally got to their destination. A fort rose up from the damp soil, broken and decrepit as the one Lithe had seen before. Except that this one had lookouts with bows in hand. They came up to a pair of large doors set in the decaying wall. The Argonian grasped the door handle and heaved, revealing the darkness inside the fort. The Argonian's group entered first, vanishing into its depths. Lithe was shoved forward with the Dunmer, and together, they entered the slavers fortress.
Lithes eyes didn't adjust fast enough to the step down from the doorway, but Lithe guessed the Dunmer's did, because the slim Dark Elf caught the back of his shirt before Lithe face planted. Lithe stood up and nodded his thanks before they were shoved forward yet again. They took a left in at the torch lit junction and then a right, down some steps into a large room.
"Gargok, get 'um situated. Lairthn, stay and make sure they don't do anything. Beat them if they do," the Nord said to the Orc and Altmer. The Altmer sighed loudly, stopping in front of a pair of double doors. The Orc was handed the chains.
"Miskall never has to do this," the Altmer grumbled as the Orc opened the doors. Lithe and the Dunmer were shoved into the small hallway behind the doors. The Altmer stayed outside and closed the doors, leaving the Orc in with them. The Orc turned to face them, glaring down at them. Suddenly, the Orc slammed his fist into Lithe's gut. The Imperial doubled over as the air escaped his lungs.
"That's for before," the Orc growled as Lithe lay gasping on the ground. The Dunmer seemed about to do something, but the Orc turned his steely gaze on him.
"Now, strip down to your skivs, and don't even try to hide anything. If I even think you are, I'll have someone you don't want to meet search you," the Orc ordered. Lithe pulled off the crystal clasp that kept his shirt and caplet on. Lithe could see the Dunmer's face go a shade darker as he gingerly pulled off his torn pair of shorts. Soon, they both stood in the semi-darkness of the hall, naked but for their underwear. Lithe's gauntlet glowed gently as they shivered in the damp air. The Orc nodded, went down some stairs, then quickly opened the door at the end of the hall and waved them in. The door boomed behind as Lithe they entered.
The sight that Lithe faced wasn't a pleasant one. Teenage boys of every race filled the room, dressed in nothing but their underwear. A bonfire was in the center of the damp holding room, though it did little to warm the walls or ground. They all turned to look at the new arrivals before turning back to what they were doing. Most of the boys were close to the fire, trying to get warm. Lithe noticed most with front row warmth were Nords, Orcs, and Redguards. They were all reverting back to the natural order of things: the biggest and strongest survive and get what they want. Other groups of mixed races were sitting against the walls, talking quietly to eachother.
Lithe walked to an abandoned corner and slumped against the wall. To his surprise, he saw a pair of gray blue feet standing in front of him. Lithe looked up to see the Dunmer standing there. Lithe waited for him to say something.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked in a quiet voice, looking at the ground. Lithe glanced at all the empty spot on the wall.
"Sure." The Dunmer slumped down beside Lithe, head bowed forward, elbows on his knees.
"I'm Chain, by the way," the Dunmer said.
"Lithe," Lithe responded. They sat there in silence, shivering in the damp air.
"Thanks for before," Lithe said.
"For what?" Chain asked.
"For catching me before I fell down the stairs."
"Oh," Chain said, looking up at Lithe. "It was nothing." They sat in silence for another moment.
"Do you know where they'll be taking us?" Chain asked suddenly. Lithe thought for a moment.
"I don't know. Slavery has been abolished in all the provinces, so I really have no clue."
"Neither do I. But, one of my captors said something about a 'Mad Altmer'. That's all I know," Chain said, his hair hiding his face as he lowered it again.
Lithe sat there, shivering. A mad Altmer. What was that supposed to mean? The minutes ticked by as Lithe thought of all the possibilities that his future could be. Suddenly, the door opened and a pile of thin blankets were flung in along with some firewood. Three of the blankets landed not ten feet away. Lithe knew it would be a much more comfortable night if he had a blanket. He leapt up and snagged two of the blankets before the rest of the boys could get there. Lithe made a hasty retreat as a fight started over the remaining blankets. The grey blankets were itchy and thin, but they were still better than nothing.
Lithe got back to his corner and tossed one of the blankets on Chain. It landed on the Dunmer's head. He looked up and took the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. He glanced over at Lithe, who was settling down beside him.
"You know, you would have been warmer if you would have kept this," Chain said.
"Yeah. But you need one just as much as me," Lithe said, pulling the blanket around his shoulder. Chain was silent.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Lithe said back. He glanced up to see Chain looking at him. There was something in Chain's eyes. A spark of hope maybe. Or thanks.
"Um, did I do something?" Lithe asked uncertainly. Chain shook his head and smiled just a little.
"No. Never mind. It was nothing," Chain lowered his head down into the semi-warmth o the blanket.
Lithe didn't know what just happened. But he was sure on one thing: Sooner or later, he was going to get out of here. Jyggalag would summon him soon, and he needed to be ready.
He wasn't going to disappoint his Daedric Prince. No matter what.