Chapter #10: Embershard Mine Part #1.

My mind was still reeling and my heart was racing even an hour after the bandits had left with Alvor. It had all happened so fast. The event was a harsh reminder that a peaceful life was nigh impossible in a wildland like Skyrim.

I found myself silent as the town argued around the fire of the Sleeping Giant inn. Tensions were high and tempers flared. Sven, nine curse his name, suggested we trade Alvor with Faendal. Sigrid demanded the whole town take up arms and storm the bandit-keep, and Gerdur stated that we should take one of their own and trade. I, however, merely looked at the fire. I had very little stake in all this. Oblivion's fires, I haven't even been there for an entire season. What good would my say be to villagers who will not even listen to their own neighbors' council? So there I sat, sulking in my own silence.

When I heard my name mentioned, that was when I began to focus. It was the voice of Lucan Valerius. "Sol took care of those thieves in Bleak Falls Barrow," he said. "Maybe he can…"

In my selfishness, those were the last words I wanted to hear. "I did not come here for battle," I replied, meeting the man's gaze. "I just wanted some peace — a quiet life."

The room was silent for a brief moment. I looked over at Sigrid, whose anger began to reshape into despair. The woman was fierce, but had a heart the size of a mountain. I looked into her eyes and saw a single tear stain her dirt-covered face. Talos damn it all, I thought.

"I'll go," I said.

At my words, the crowd immediately began to argue once again, but I merely stood and stepped out of the inn. I had not the time for local politics and village prattle. They were good folk at heart, but they would argue until the moons fell.

I closed the door behind me and breathed in the cold evening air. It was dark, but stars scattered endlessly in the night sky and Masser and Secunda glowed in the distance. It was beautiful; the calm before the storm, I expected.

I had brought my bow and blade to the meeting, as well as worn my banded iron armor. I suppose, in my heart, I had always intended to go save my friend. The town of Riverwood was hauntingly empty without the clamour of iron on anvil. Alvor's presence was integral. I was resolved that, no matter what, I would bring him back.

I had only reached the edge of town when I heard a familiar voice speak from beside me. "You don't think you're going alone, do you, brother?" Faendal said.

"Faendal…"

"What?" he interrupted. "You really think it's a good idea to waltz into a heavily fortified mine filled to the brim with angry bandits? Bandits who, I might add, are likely prepared for an entire group of fighters."

"It's suicide, Faendal," I stated firmly, my pace not faltering as I walked down the path.

"You don't think I know that? Alvor is my friend and so are you. If I'm going to die, I'd rather it be dying side-by-side with a brother as we try to save our friend."

"Nine," I cursed, studying the smaller elf with a warm smile on my face. "You've been spending too much time with the nords."

"I know," he replied with a lighthearted laugh. It was good to smile. The night would be a long one.

Embershard Mine was less than a mile off of town. The vast caverns had been carved into the mountainside with merely a door as the entrance. Oftentimes, the village children would tell tales of hagravens and falmer lurking in its depths. No doubt, the parents had started those rumors to protect their young from bandits.

As we approached, stealthily, we saw the silhouette of a brutish nord. I looked at Faendal who nodded in affirmation as I drew my bow and loosed an arrow. It sang through the air and buried in his chest. The bandit sank to one knee, but the blow did not kill him. He looked up, glaring with his single eye and said: "Well, ain't this a surprise."

He propped himself up by a rusty iron axe and went to charge the brush where Faendal and I were, when suddenly another arrow felled him. He crashed to the ground on his back, one of Faendal's arrows in his brow. One down, an army to go.

As we entered through the makeshift wooden doors of Embershard Mine, the faint glow of torchlight illuminated the night's darkness. We stepped inside cautiously, knowing full well that each step could be our last.

"Best keep our bows nocked and our ears sharp," I said. I knew the irony as soon as I'd said the words. Ears sharp. Faendal chucked. We found humor to cope with the direness of the situation.

Both practices were wise. However, it would have been just as helpful if we kept our eyes trained for traps. As I got to the end of a long corridor, I heard a quiet snap. My heart sank. The rumble of rocks soon shook the room and I jumped forward - not knowing if it would be enough to escape being squished. I landed on the group with a grunt. I made it.

My joy was short lived, however, the sounds had called the attention of two bandits — a redguard and a nord. They came at us with blades raised and cries of battle. Faendal loosed an arrow, but it only found purchase in the wall. Before he even had time to curse, the nord grappled with him. I barely even had time to notice this, as I soon found myself engaged with a bandit of my own. We clashed blades of sword and axe. My aged steel locked against his rusty iron and we gritted our teeth as our eyes met. Then, suddenly, the nord cried out as Faendal drove a dagger into his heart. I seized the opportunity of the confusion, broke the hold and brought my sword down in a diagonal sweep into his neck, burying it deep. He died with a gurgle.

We took a moment to recoup, catching our breath and saying no words. I had killed before, but I did not know if Faendal had or not. That just might have been his first kill - it likely was. This all brought me back to my first, shame and guilt overcoming me as the memories flooded my mind and drowned me with their presence. At the time, it seemed like justice; a heretic leading a "cult" of Talos. I was a hero, they had said and I had thought. My mind was young and my heart eager and hungry to make my place in the world. I had been wrong; so wrong.

"Are you still in there?" Faendal asked with a cynical tone. My mind jumped back to the present.

"Hmm?" I responded. "Yes, forgive me. I was lost in thought."

"I can see that. Tough fellows, huh?" He said, plucking his arrow from the wooden post where it had landed. It released with a 'thunk.'

"I agree…" I trailed off for a moment, hesitating before I asked: "So, was that your first kill?"

"No. It was a long journey from Valenwood to here, brother elf. But that's another story for another time."

I nodded my head. I was intrigued, but we had a friend to save. Therefore, we continued on down our dark road.

We looked around the area as we walked. In one corridor, we saw a massive pile of broken stone where a skeleton lay in the place in which its owner had died. I don't know why my heart stopped, Alvor had only been gone a day. I suppose my subconscious just associated the figure with death. It just rested there, a journal on its side and a pickaxe in its hand.

"Poor fellow," Faendal stated. "What a way to go."

I said no words as I walked and picked up the journal. It was old and tattered, but as I opened the pages I saw that the words were still legible. It read:

They've had me working down here for days now. It's not the time that's getting to me though, it's these tunnels. I've told them countless times now to add extra supports to the weak sections of tunnel.

If only we had more of those wooden beams that we reinforced with bronze bottoms. Honestly, if I hear the earth shift one more time above my head I'll be so stressed I may stop drinking for good. I mean, what's a Nord without his mead?

I closed the book and my eyes immediately fell on a broken wooden beam. He was right, at least. Poor fellow, indeed. I left the journal beside him and we continued on.

Our journey led us down winding halls and caverns. We encountered bandit after bandit, but stuck them down - all of them - with bow and blade. They fought with the animalistic ferocity of desperate men and women. None would yield, so we left none standing.

Finally, we saw metal bars and the end of a hallway. A prison! I never thought I would be so happy to see a dungeon, but there I was standing. We were no longer aiming for stealth, so the org guard heard us easily. He charged at us with his greataxe raised high, but he was struck by Faendal's arrow and finished with one of my own. He crashed to the earth heavily.

"About damn time you got here!" A familiar voice yelled.

"Alvor!" I exclaimed, rushing to the metal gate and peering inside. My friend did not look much different, save for a bruise or two and perhaps an extra layer of dirt. He was bound by two shackles against the wall.

"It's good to see your faces," the blacksmith sighed. "The orc has the key. Get me out of here. Is Sigrid okay? Gods above, she must be so worried. Oh, no. Does Dorthe think her papa died?" He ranted on for a few moments as I fumbled for the key.

I released him and he fell to his knees - finally free. He rubbed at his raw wrists, the red skin looked like it both burned and stung. I cast a spell of healing on him and the irritation evaporated and was replaced with fresh skin among streams of golden magicka. He stared blankly. "That your elven stuff?" He asked.

"Something like that," I replied with a chuckle. "Just a simple healing spell."
"I did not realize that I was friends with a spellsword!" He chuckled as he walked up to the orc's corpse. For good measure, he kicked the brute's head before he leaned down and picked up his greataxe. "This will do... Come, friends. Let's end this."

Dear Reader,

I have been stuck on this chapter for almost two years. I suppose a whole pandemic did distract me for a while. Eventually, I was just like: "I'm just gonna write this whether it's any good or not so I can move on and continue." I do hope you enjoy it though! There will, ideally, be a lot more coming soon! I miss Sol. I hope you have too.

~Kovecs

P.S. If you /are/ enjoying these adventures, I would really appreciate a favorite and a review! I'd love to get back on the horse and keep up that momentum. THANKS!