Chapter 2: Burning Emotions
Author Note:: Well it took me awhile to think of how to move forward into this particular chapter, sometimes I think it should be built up even more so but since this is more or less a practice run, the length should be satisfactory in some cases. Still I would love to elaborate more, last chapter felt so rush, especially the scenes with the trio together and the fight in general. So I hope to make it up a bit with this chapter, especially since the first was a mere foot note, now the story can get really cooking.
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The feel of the cloth wrapped blade, the coarse fabric of the pants she had found herself wearing, the clammy feeling of skin that hasn't felt the touch of the sun or warmth in so long, each drop of sweat that formed upon her brow to trace down the delicate curve of her nose before falling upon the rocks of the cell. All this made Cynthia itch for someone to open her cell door, that drew awareness of her muscles tensing with each passing second. Oh Divines, I pity the next person that my eyes fall upon, unless this wait causes my heart to explode..., each thought pounding into her head in concert with the beating of her heart, she could almost swear that if nothing happened soon her heart would burst. Soon, she would just have to wait a bit longer as she strained her hearing to the smothered by loud sounds of monsters in mortal skin reached a crescendo.
Absently a single finger running along the rusted blade of the dagger, chapped lips curling into a frown, I could probably have brought back this blade, feels like there's a bit of ebony in the mix, faint thoughts reflecting a time when she was not rotting in a cell after having seen her friends murdered in front of her eyes or spending a night that she refuses to even give thought anymore. No it was a time when she would have worked upon a forge within Whiterun, the War Maiden if her memory served her run by Adrianne a kind person that didn't mind a person who had some skill to use her forge.
If you have a hand in working with metal feel free to use my forge..., for a brief moment lips frozen in a frown relaxed, the smile bittersweet at the happy vision of Lillith pushing her forward, HaJanga arguing with a guard that he did not in fact steel the guard's sweet roll. Could she ever return to those happier times, did she dare hope that happiness could still be found in this world gone so cold. No, there would never be moments like those ever again, this world, these monsters stole my world. That arrow that stole the light from HaJanga's eyes, a smile that always creep me out not matter how often I saw it. Lillith's cheerful almost seductive laughter as she teased Hajanga, or the playful green eyes that seemed to find something amusing in everything they did. That agronian took all that away, and I will take his world away from him. Like a harvester with a scythe sweeping through wheat, Cynthia's tormented thoughts sheered those memories, lips stretching back into a snarl as a hand that for a brief moment relaxed upon the cloth wrapped blade tightened. Tonight she cared not for this world anymore, not for her place in it as long as she could make one more strike, then what ever happened be it death or life she cared not, those thoughts was for another person.
As Cythnia waited within her cell, not knowing that the bandits had for the most part had forgotten about their prisoner, why think of one single person when there are so many to choose from and if the one they caught died of neglect then they would just have to capture a new one. The world is a cruel place, not necessarily in itself but the people who move upon it make it such a cruel place, of course the world is far crueler to those who unfortunately fall into the eyes of the Daedric Princes and the Divines. Yet, there is always a slim hope, a light one could say that can brighten this dark world we find ourselves in, of course its not something that strikes a person, no its never something so simple and many will let it pass them by as the world turns. So as Cynthia lost everything she held dear by a chance moment in an inn, the bandits themselves were also in turn about to be visited upon by one of those moments that makes the world so unfair to those who view such as events. A twist of fate, a chance encounter call what you may but in the end its part of a weave in a grand design, so what will this random moment become, will it become something grand in itself or will it merely be something brief if no less important.
The long drawn out scream that would only come from someone dying in incredible pain snapped Cynthia out of her dark reverie, the sound echoing off the walls in such clarion tones that she was onto her feet before she even realized she had moved. Mellow brown eyes widening in shock as beneath the fading scream she could hear the clash of metal upon metal, the muffled shouts of men and women calling themselves to arms, before once more a scream echoed up through the tunnel to her little cell. The sound of an explosion caused Cythnia to fall backwards upon her rump, eyes widening even further as she felt the faintest of aftershocks shake the ground. Strange in the back of her mind a thought was dimly heard of how only briefly before she was intent on darker thoughts and now she felt fear, a disabling fear as her breath came quickly as she gazed with frightened eyes upon the door that was she thought so strong now had become so weak in the face of an unknown force. The security she had felt so recently was gone, the events finally falling upon her in a heavy smothering weight, what now was she going to do with a rusty bit of metal against the sounds that were drifting to her cell.
With a bitter laugh that was more a cry of despair as she gazed at the rusty metal, what good was it in the end, a shudder shaking through her body when another scream was ripped from a living throat. That reserve of desperate strength, how she had kept it going through the long wait was gone, with a curse she tossed the make shift weapon away from her. I thought, it doesn't really matter what I thought now was it, no matter...it didn't even matter. Such a fool I was thinking, I can't even take any solace from hearing the screams of those bandits knowing that whats slaughtering them, it doesn't matter...doesn't matter..., wrapping her arms tight around herself again.
Closing her eyes, the sound of each scream and explosion causing a tremor to shake her body, she was lost and she didn't know how to find her way back. What was the use of her revenge when something out there was doing with such ease, how could she of thought her plan was going to work when even at her strongest with her friends it came to naught. But I can do one more thing, I can at least do one more strike, one more for my life...I can..I can at least show I was at least a Nord at heart and die with honor. It was a small thought but one she grabbed onto as a drowning person would grab onto anything that could float, nothing changed from before, she wasn't planning on living long after tonight, true it wasn't what she wanted but in the end it was something.
Drawing in deep breath, a heart that was beating so fast finally slowed down, a time of acceptance as she wearily got to her feet before taking the two steps to retrieve her pathetic weapon. A pathetic weapon, perfect for a pathetic warrior, Cynthia thought grimly before steeling herself, but at least a blade even like this one can draw blood just like any warrior can still fight. Gripping the cloth once more, Cynthia felt something almost like peace come over her, something she hadn't felt ever since that last conversation with her friends before entering this hideout. It wasn't a warm feeling, a cold feeling but it at least it was a sort of peace from the agony or the dark tinged thoughts of before, almost accepting almost as she lowered her body into a stance, the arm holding the blade pressed tight against her side.
As she once again waited, Cynthia couldn't help notice the silence that had fallen. So, the bandits are dead or at least no longer able to fight, she thought grimly as a tight smile stretched her lips into almost a thin straight line. The silence so utter that she could hear the sounds of footfalls upon stone, it was a measured tread, a controlled tread from a person wearing armor. The sound of the jingling of metal fittings that unless a spell is used was nearly impossible to dampen drifted through the bars of the window inset in the door. Strange, it sounds like they are heading straight to my cell...oh..., shaking her head, Cynthia forgot about the sounds of the explosions earlier, a mage that could launch those types of spells could easily cast a detect life spell to hunt down any remaining bandits, or kill any other man or mer that could be found.
Soon the sounds of booted feet came to stop at the wooden door, the light from the flickering torch outside blocked by something. The time has come, and Cynthia was surprised that she felt no fear, just a sort of empty eagerness for the door to open, for what ever to happen. She barely caught herself in time as she was about to yell at the person on the other side to open the Shor forsaken door faster so she could die sooner.
"I am ready to accept my fate from this action.", a whispered oath or is a promise as she heard the lifting of a heavy bar, the thud of a piece of wood hitting stone. Oh god, the seconds seem to drag on forever as a crack of flickering light formed as the door slowly opened. Each inch painstakingly slow as the wall of the tunnel was revealed, condensation dripping from the stones as black smoke from the flickering torch drifted causing dancing shadows to flicker upon the wall. Another inch and the revealing of a dark shadow, a beam of light gripped in a leather clad fist, not a tall person maybe an Imperial or Breton, a dim thought in the back of her mind as the door opened fully quickly. With a cry she lunged forward, in the middle of her lunge her arm jack knifed forward with the blade, a dim grunt from the shadow as the blade impacted the gut of the shadow. It was with some disbelief when the blade shattered upon the metal of the armor the shadow wore, the sudden flash of pain as a shard of the broken blade sliced her fore arm up to her elbow as a piece sliced across her right cheek.
Falling to her knees, one handing reaching up to feel warmth of blood upon her sliced cheek as her eyes fell upon the blade of the shadow. Almost hypnotized by the blood that slid along the channel in the blade, to well up into a tear at the tip to fall upon the grey stone of the floor, soon my blood will stain that blade, she thought dimly to herself. Lowering her gaze to the floor, her black hair unloose falling to hide her face, to hide her from her death as she stare at the grey stone. "I am ready...", her voice soft as she waited for the last moment of her life, strange she thought, but she felt so at peace now, perhaps it was because soon everything wouldn't matter, the last torture thought no longer able to touch her when she goes to Svongarde.
Seconds inched past, the sound of jingling metal, the rubbing of leather upon leather as the form moved before her to draw something, a blade of light to end the darkness in her mind. It was with some surprise as she saw a white piece of cloth flutter to the ground, brown eyes widening as she felt the figure before her walk backwards before leaning against the wall. The jarring sound of metal rubbing against stone causing her to cringe as she lifted her gaze from the dark brown leather boots of the figure before her. Leather pants, stained by sweet but with metal plates fastened for protection, stained darker with the red of blood as her eyes traveled further up. The armor covering the upper body, again it was dark leather with metal fastened to it for more protection, a scratch upon one piece of metal and a line along the leather beside it, that's where my attack shattered, Cynthia thought to herself vaguely. Finally, almost reluctantly her eyes raised to stare at a metal face of a full helmet, it looked like a Dawnguard helmet she saw once on one of those vampire hunters. It was the eye slits, the darkness that seemed to float within it as the flickering light of the torch danced along the silver sheen of the metal.
"Why...", a simple word, was it a plea, a question, Cynthia didn't know, and yet her voice sounded so weak and defeated. As she gazed into the black eyed slits of the helmet, dimly aware of the heavier breathing from the figure before him, the almost masculine scent that wafted from the smell of steel and leather.
Lifting their hand, the figure in armor pointed towards the fallen cloth, "I would at least try to staunch those cuts first, especially the one on your forearm. I also have maybe a potion that cure diseases and perhaps a health potion that I haven't used on myself yet, maybe I mean maybe since I like chugging these things like mead I might also have a stamina potion as well, but don't hold your breath for it...I wouldn't. Now if you don't mind, I am damn well exhausted from wading through this den of scum, and a particularly nasty orc gave me a damn good knock in my back that I kinda of feel incredibly woozy. So clean yourself up and after you do that and my companion is back from looting the bodies, I for one will never understand the entire idea of rummaging through the dead's pockets, especially considering not many of them died cleanly...well each to their own. She should be able to fix you up with a couple of spells," for a moment the man quieted in thought, and from the sound of his voice it was definitely male beneath that helmet, "...thats of course if she remembers. Hey...", the man leaning forward a hand reaching out, just as Cynthia's eyes rolled back into her head, the events, the wounds proving to much for her to endure as she fell into the blessed darkness.
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"Okay, Mickaelos considering you had me heal this woman you can at least answer this one teeny tiny question, why were you holding her head up by her hair? I mean is it some kinda of reaction you have towards women who black out before you, or is it because its something you only save for those who attempt to stab you in the gut. I mean I am all curious because you know it might tell me what not to do around you.", Cynthia was unwilling to open her eyes as the voice, it was a strange voice though it sounded young, a melodious voice it also sounded really old, broke through the darkness that she fell into. The sound of a crackling fire, the smell of wood smoke and the soft sounds of a forest soon snuck into her awareness as she became aware that she was wrapped up in a bed roll.
With a sigh, the voice of the armored man uttered from somewhere to her right, gone was the light tone, no not gone but held back by a coolness, "The woman suffered, its pretty plain from her appearance and how that bandit was boasting before he ran away with that agronian that almost sliced me in half with that blade. By the way you have my thanks for that save, but back to the hair pulling...", with another weary sigh, "...that rusty dagger managed to stab me and I just wasn't paying enough attention before I knew what I was happening, so I grabbed the only thing I could catch before her head hit the ground.", for a moment silenced followed as the other person, the woman Cynthia realized shifted a bit where she was, she could almost feel that speculative gaze.
"She is a pretty one, I will give her that so I am not surprised that you did what you did to prevent her from getting hurt more. But did we really have to drag her with us, its not like we would have left her with nothing after she woke up, those bandits had a pretty good stash of food and gear...", the soft voice falling silent almost as if the speaker quieted seeing the reaction from her companion.
From to her left there was the sound of a sword being sheathed with and audible rasp, the voice of the man rising in annoyance, "Stop speaking before I order you to leave this campsite, you know me well enough that she became my responsibility the moment I freed her from that cell. No matter if its a man or woman, man or mer the moment an action of mine causes something I will not drop that responsibility, as you know I can't forgive myself for not coming sooner, to have been earlier in clearing out that bandit hide out, than nothing of what happened to her would of happened!", Cynthia felt, she didn't know what she feels as the passion in the man's voice seemed to wash over the campsite, like his voice was a power in itself, the feeling that he was convinced that it was his fault for what happened to her friends and herself. She couldn't understand the feeling she felt, it was tinged with anger but again there was something softer, it was confusing as the campsite fell into silence except for the crackling of the fire.
As the moments passed, Cynthia once again felt her weariness creep up on her so it was with some effort she dragged herself from the depths of sleep again when she heard the woman's voice, it was soft and yet in her mind she could almost see the woman looking towards the man as he stood, his helmet still upon his head as he stared into the dancing flames, "I know...you carry that burden willingly and never could I see you ever discharging yourself from your thoughts about it. You are a stubborn ass but, perhaps in this maybe its not so bad, maybe just maybe it does make you a true hero...", the voice falling silent from a muffled cry from the man.
"I am no hero, I will never be a hero...or at least the hero I believe I should be with this destiny that has been thrust upon me. No, I am only a coward because I can't...I can't see hopes dashes, the faith. No I am a coward...", how can he be a coward, Cynthia thought to herself, didn't he wade through a bandit hide out, doesn't he take such a huge burden knowing no one could possibly hold such a burden.
The faint tinkle of laughter from the woman, sadness tinging its clarity, "A coward that delved into the depths of a long sealed crypt, fighting the undead the deeper he went, the traps he surmounted even though he could see the bones of those before him scattered throughout that crypt. So when he finally reached that chamber with a woman chained up to a pillar, what did that man do...what did he do?, before the other could interrupt, the woman's voice continued, and Cynthia couldn't help but hear the wonder that tinged the woman's voice, "That coward, he did the impossible and that woman will forever be indebted to him no matter how many times he says she shouldn't be...that woman will still feel that way.", the final said not in a way a lover would say but someone that is devoted to a person in a way that is like love but something different, and it made Cynthia wonder even more.
"You know...I couldn't have left you there, not as long...", sighing the sound of the man sitting down upon the ground, "Never mind...are you taking watch for the night as usual?"
"But of course, you should know by now that I am the best option, the only option to take the night watch, only a fool would try to take the night watch from someone like myself.", the solemn moment shattering at the light hearted boasting of the woman, "Now get some sleep, you know so sleeping beauty here doesn't get to see your sleep deprived state, that wouldn't endear you to well with her though I have to admit I kinda of find it cute."
What followed was several curses to several Daedric princes and Divines before the man returned, "Yeah, yeah...anyhow where will you be staying during the day time?
For a moment there was silence before the woman answered softly, "I will probably return to the bandit hide out for the day time, and well...", for a moment the woman sounded embarrassed before she continued, "..feed since I feel kinda of drained from that fight...and, well oh for Divines sake just go to sleep.", followed by a harumph the woman settled nearer to the outer edges of the camp site as the man chuckled a bit before his breathing settled into that of sleep.
As Cynthia started to drift back to sleep, the heat of the fire warming her body it was just barely that heard a soft whisper coming from somewhere, "Its why that person you saved from herself is willing to stay with you, to help you as much as she can in that burden you so willingly taken upon yourself.", the words so soft that Cynthia didn't know if she thought it or someone said as she fell deeper.
So she almost didn't hear the softest of whispers upon the night's air, "And to prove to you that you don't always have to fight alone, that others will be willing to take up that burden with you like she did."