Chapter 5

Ghosts

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4E 201 – Raven Rock

Captain Veleth usually was a fairly busy mer. Keeping Raven Rock safe and secure was his number one priority of course and that filled out his time quite a bit with patrols, killing bandits, training his men, keeping his men in line and making sure they weren't hiding contraband from him. He was able to spend a few moments of the day with Dreyla when she was able to escape the notice of her father but those moments were very brief. But in the bits of free time he actually had, he was a bit of a history buff. Maybe part of that was influence from his father, who had been a part of a rather significant bit of Morrowind's history himself. Veleth had grown up on those stories and had eaten them up eagerly, always begging for more stories until his mother had handed him his first history book. It had been…well history from there.

Tonight he casually flipped through a copy of The Red Year V. II. It wasn't an actual history book persay but it was an account directly from those who had survived the eruption of Red Mountain. There wasn't a single Dunmer who hadn't been affected by the eruption. He hadn't been born yet but he vividly remembered the haunted look of every Dunmer who had lived through it. To this day, 196 years after the fact, the devastation still was vividly felt.

He dropped the book into his footlocker, watching it bounce among the messy heap of books. Ancestors and the Dunmer, The Eastern Provinces, Great Houses of Morrowind, On Morrowind, Pocket Guide to the Empire, The Red Year, The War of the First Council, The History of Raven Rock, The Real Nerevar… all books that depicted Morrowind's turbulent history and those barely scratched at the surface. If what his father was saying was true, Morrowind was about to face yet another major upheaval. He idly wondered how many books would be written in the years to come.

Veleth kicked his chest shut. As he did so, his copy of Nerevar Moon-and-Star fell from its precarious position where it had fallen between the chest and the bed. He stared at it for moment before picking it up. His father…had been there when the Nerevarine had gone into Red Mountain. More than that, he had actually KNOWN the mer. Jorun Veleth's near fanatical devotion to the Nerevarine was considered a joke, an old mer clinging to old stories. But, in a brief flicker of understanding, he could understand the need to have one mer to unite underneath. It had been a time where people had been scared and dying and no one was doing anything to save them. It was almost like a fairy tale. Too bad the Nerevarine himself was gone.

The Captain got up to go walk another patrol, putting the book back where it belonged carefully before he left. Too bad indeed.

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Dustman's Cairn, Skyrim

He had just made the biggest rookie mistake ever. If you're going to rely on a bow, always bring extra arrows. Also, bring extra arrows. And extra arrows. He forgot the extra arrows. Classic rookie mistake. It was also the classic rookie mistake that most often got the rookies who made the mistake dead. He was pretty certain that some of the arrows he fired earlier were still serviceable but there was a rather large and rather angry draugr between him and them that looked pretty intent on killing him and was moving alarmingly fast towards him.

Nevano did a back roll off the table just as the massive sword cracked down on it, sparks flying as the metal clanged off stone. Almost immediately the draugr was winding up again for another strike, impossibly fast for such a heavy weapon even for an undead. Desperately trying to figure out an offensive move Nevano could only continue to duck and dodge each strike. Maybe if he could get around to the other side he could grab an arrow and nail the monster in the face. Even if it didn't kill it it would, hopefully, be blinded. Provided that it could still see in the normal sense and didn't rely on some crazy undead senses that not even a necromancer could explain. It was the only strategy he had for now.

"Fus Ro DAH!"

Strange words whose language he didn't recognize seemed to reverberate like thunder in the room. Everything seemed to shake with the mere force of the words, like the words THEMSELVES had just forced themselves on the world. Bodies of the draugr he had already killed flew back by an unseen force to slam into the wall, taking with them a chance to grab an arrow. Another body slammed into the Dunmer, knocking him off his feet and the air out of his lungs. The bone biter bow flew from his hands and clattered across the cavern. Nevano's head spun, a massive headache building up. By Azura the mere power of those words…he had never seen, or rather heard, a spell uttered like that before. His head throbbed in agony in tandem to his rapid heart rate, nearly blinding him in pain.

The draugr didn't hesitate. It saw Nevano was down and rushed at him, greatsword already winding up over its shoulder. It sensed victory was close.

Nevano heard the footsteps running up to him. They seemed to match the painful pulsing in his head. He heard the snarl. It had taken a different tone. Victory. It thought it had won. In all honesty it had every right to think that. He was down, weaponless, defenseless. Even a blind cliffracer could hit him right now.

No

Anger suddenly bloomed in his chest. It spread like a red mist through his body, giving new energy to weary limbs. The blood pulsed hot in his veins. He was NOT going to die here. He had not lived through everything to die in a hole in the ground in a foreign land. He was NOT going to die here. He would NOT die HERE!

He stood up mechanically. It was like a whole different person was controlling his body. All he could feel was anger throbbing in his veins. The world had slowed nearly to a completely halt. The draugr was coming at him still but it was like ice was slowly freezing it on the spot. His focus narrowed on that draugr, on that reanimated corpse. It wanted to kill him. He wasn't going to let it. Burning gold eyes met burning blue ones. The draugr no longer had the sense of understanding like it had in its former life, but what was left in it suddenly understood; it was going to die.

Suddenly time ran normally again. With mere moments to act, and with the same disjointed feeling like he wasn't fully in control of his body, Nevano swooped low, ducking under the powerful desperate swing of the greatsword, grabbed a sword that had been dropped by an earlier foe and spun around to parry the second stroke that came in a upper cut meant to slice him open from belly to chest. Strength powered by sheer rage drove his sword arm, actually pushing the draugr back a step. That was all the space he needed. Swift and methodical strikes cut through ancient armor and through the dried, stretched skin and tendons beneath it. Bones splintered as the blade struck and drove on through. The final stroke took the powerful draugr's head off. It rolled out of its horned helmet and bounced across the floor before finally coming to a rest, the unnatural blue light finally fading from its empty socks.

Good job lad.

Nevano dropped to his knees as the gentle words slipped through his mind like silk, the strength draining from his body as his rage abated. The only thing that kept him from slumping completely to the ground was the weird feeling that something was bracing against his shoulder, holding him up. Like, whatever it was that helped him fight was now keeping him from falling. Unfortunately neither the unseen support nor his dropping blood pressure did a thing for the headache still pounding in his skull. Whatever that magic was, it was still reverberating around in his skull. He just wanted to curl into a quiet corner somewhere and sleep.

Forcing his exhaustion back, Nevano retrieved his bow and found a few arrows that were still in good enough condition to reuse. It wasn't a lot but it was enough to see him back to Whiterun safely. His obligation of the gah-julan was fulfilled. If nothing else he wiped out a nest of undead and a fair few werewolf hunters for his new canine…well he wasn't going to call them friends just yet. Canine…acquaintances. The fetchers better appreciate this.

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A/N: I could have made this longer but I wrote this the night before I had major surgery. Even after I cleaned it up a bit after I came home again I just couldn't bring up the energy to lengthen it. So it stays woefully short.