CHAPTER THREE: THE DEADLANDS
Mikhail
After two hours of riding, the sky began to shift from black to orange—confirming the presence of an Oblivion Gate. Mikhail swore under his breath, worried about Baurus's wife and child. The Redguard hadn't spoken since the two of them left the inn in Bruma, possibly having forgotten that his Nordic companion had followed him.
Ten more minutes of riding passed before the first Dremora were spotted. The small group of six growled in a combination of their Daedric language and the Imperial tongue as they charged at the two warriors, armed with swords and magic.
Mikhail quickly put on his ebony helmet before sliding off his horse to take on the Dremora on foot. Baurus elected to remain on his horse, though had Mikhail not been there, the Nord thought, he likely would have continued towards his house.
Mikhail swung his greatsword in an arc, cutting down two of the combatants. Baurus kicked one into the snow as he passed by, allowing Mikhail to crush its head with his heel.
The remaining Dremora retreated a ways before launching a magical assault. Mikhail had anticipated this so he dropped his greatsword and threw up a ward. He pushed through their attacks, pausing only to pick up a longsword from one of the fallen Daedra.
He shoved the blade through the armor of the Dremora closest to him. Its magic faltered, allowing Mikhail to finish it off without much difficulty.
Baurus rode past again, plowing over the last two Dremora. Mikhail ran swiftly to the fallen demons, slicing off their heads before they could react.
"Good teamwork," Mikhail said. He turned around to see Baurus, but the Blade was already gone, heading down the road towards his home. Mikhail wouldn't have even seen him had the orange sky not brightened up the surroundings more than the normal night sky would.
Mikhail picked up his greatsword as he ran towards his horse. He pushed his horse to gallop faster but he still couldn't catch up to Baurus.
That was until the Oblivion Gate was actually in sight. Mikhail shivered, though not from the cold. Despite having closed six of the gates in the past few months, each one was still frightening to look at. The only thing worse that the gate was the world it led to.
Baurus stared at a large crowd of assorted Daedra that had gathered in front of the Oblivion Gate with a frozen expression on his face. Mikhail didn't dare count how many there were, but instinct told him there were way too many for the two of them to take on alone.
"Gods..." Mikhail whispered when he finally noticed what the group of Daedra had circled around.
A small, wooden house. It looked abandoned, though Mikhail couldn't decide if that was a good or bad sign.
Baurus unsheathed his sword, his blank stare now one that was filled with a mixture of anger and fear. Mikhail couldn't believe that his friend planned to take on the horde.
He'll need help. Mikhail removed his greatsword from his back. "I'll take the left half, you take the right."
"No." Baurus was still looking at the horde as he spoke to Mikhail. "Close the Oblivion Gate. I'll take care of them."
"Are you mad? It'll be difficult enough with both of us fight together, but it'll be impossible to fight them all alone."
Baurus looked at Mikhail with so much pent-up anger that he appeared ready to spill the blood of anyone who dared to defy him. "The fight will not end as long as more Daedra can come through. You're the Oblivion Walker—you deal with it."
He faced the horde and raced towards it without another word. Mikhail decided that Baurus was right, but he still didn't like how suicidal the plan sounded.
Mikhail climbed off his horse, tying it to a nearby tree to hopefully hide it from any stray Daedra. Then he sprinted towards the Oblivion Gate, all the while keeping an eye on Baurus in case the Redguard needed help.
A Dremora appeared at the base of the gate just as Mikhail reached it. A quick swipe of his ebony greatsword felled the demon before it ever saw him.
The Nord took one final look at the fight behind him, trying to decide if he should join in on the battle before he was beyond helping Baurus. But Baurus was fighting like a mad man on his horse, slashing his katana at anything that moved; dodging both blade and magic anytime it came near him.
"Good luck." Mikhail faced the Oblivion Gate and, after taking a deep breath, jumped in.
Instantly he was in the Deadlands. Mikhail had no idea how the gates truly worked—how they were able to transport him to another realm in the blink of an eye. He didn't spend much time pondering that question; now his only goal was the Sigil Stone, which was housed at the top of the Sigil Tower.
He moved slowly as to not exhaust himself. The Deadlands were the closest thing to a desert that Mikhail had ever been in, excluding the Daedra and the lakes of lava that surrounded him. Breathing was harder in the Deadlands due to how dry the air was. After only a couple of steps he was already sweating.
Mikhail looked into the sky, trying to see which of the two towers in front of him was the Sigil Keep by comparing their heights. The one directly in front of him stretched up the farthest, but it rested on an island surrounded by lava. Luckily, a bridge connect it to the smaller tower to his left.
A firebolt flew past his head. Three scamps were scrambling towards him, each with sadistic grins on their ugly faces. Mikhail chuckled. They think they are truly a threat.
He stomped towards the small demons at a steady pace, easily dodging all of their fire spells. They were either confident that they would eventually hit him or were too dumb to realize that they were in danger since all three of them remained still.
Mikhail punted the first scamp he came up to into the lava. The other two watched their fellow burn, taking their attention off of Mikhail long enough for him to close in on both of them and slice them in half.
Looking down at the dead scamps caused Mikhail to remember his first time in Oblivion, having entered the gate in front of Kvatch in order to get to Martin Septim. How surprised both he and the Kvatch guardsmen had been when Mikhail reappeared half an hour later with the Sigil Stone—the magical device behind the Oblivion Gates remaining open—in one hand and the Dremora he had grabbed onto in a fight in the other.
He shook his head. Now is not the time to be reminiscing. The more time he spent in the Deadlands was more time that Baurus would be fighting the horde of Daedra alone.
Two flame atronachs guarded the first room of the smaller tower. He struck one of of them down stealthily before alerting the other. It hurled a fireball in his direction but only managed to singe the bottom of his cloak.
He hid behind a pillar as the flame atronach unleashed a cone of fire on his position. Mikhail sheathed his greatsword and replaced it with a steel dagger, enchanted with frost magic. He summoned a ward with his free hand and stepped out from behind his protection.
The flame atronach chucked another fireball but it burst harmlessly against the Nord's magical shield. He lunged and stabbed the Daedra before it could roll away from him. The atronach died instantly thanks to the enchantment on his dagger.
Mikhail switched back to his greatsword as he ascended the tower. He guessed there would be two more floors before he reached the bridge, then another floor after that before he would find himself in the Sigillum Sanguis—the room that holds the Sigil Stone.
The next room had a single Dremora. Mikhail snorted. They aren't making this very difficult for me. He deflected the Daedra's sword before running the demon through with his own.
Again he climbed up a flight of stairs, this time entering a room with four Dremora. This makes more sense. One charged at him immediately, but he side-stepped and tripped the Daedra, stabbing it in the back before it could get up.
Another Dremora came at him, this time with more caution than its dead comrade. The other two were using Destruction spells on Mikhail from the other side of the room.
Mikhail dodged a firebolt aimed at his chest, failing to notice the Dremora's sword aimed at his chest. Its blade found a chink in his armor and pierced his skin.
He staggered, surprised that the Daedric sword hadn't cut him in two. The last time he had been in the Deadlands he still had been equipped with steel armor. He had to replace it when a Daedric sword cut through his chestplate like butter.
The Dremora came at him fast, likely hoping to put him down for good in his current state. Mikhail raised his hand and fired a lightning bolt at it as it swung for his head.
The lightning bolt struck the Daedra's midriff. It dropped its sword and fell to one knee.
Mikhail stood up and cut off its head before it had a chance to recover. He then turned his attention to the two magic-using Dremora that were growling at him.
They unleashed a swarm of firebolts. Mikhail twisted and turned as he ran towards them, though a few of the spells managed to hit him and momentarily slow him down.
Just as one of the Dremora was about to cast another Destruction spell, Mikhail sliced off both of its hands. It shrieked and fell to the ground.
Mikhail switched his focus to the final Dremora, using the flat of his blade to knock it down next to its shrieking counterpart. In one swift strike he decapitated both Daedra at once.
Seeing that there were no more stairs, Mikhail slipped into a nearby hallway in hope of finding the doorway that would lead to the bridge he was looking for. A few scamps blocked his path, but they took off once Mikhail crushed one under his boot with little effort.
After a few minutes of traversing through one hallway after another, he eventually came across a doorway. He opened it and smiled. The bridge was fully intact. His second trip into the Deadlands had resulted in him having to cross a half-collapsed bridge that had nearly gave away thanks to him weighing it down.
At first glance, Mikhail had thought the room he entered after having crossed the bridge was empty. He walked only a few steps before a Spider Daedra dropped down in front of him. It summoned several Spiderlings to its side before spitting its acidic web at Mikhail.
He rolled, feeling the web fly over his head and hit the wall behind him. He glanced back and saw the wall had started to melt.
The Spiderlings advanced towards him, but Mikhail ignored them. They were much weaker than the Spider Daedra and would be readily replaced once they were killed. Instead he trained his eye on the Spider Daedra, who was crawling back up the wall in an attempt to escape.
Mikhail flung his enchanted dagger at the creature. It impaled the wall, slicing through one of the spider's legs in the process. It fell off the wall and began squirming on the cold stone-like floor.
Mikhail strode towards the Spider Daedra, kicking aside any Spiderlings that stood in his path. He flipped his blade then shoved it through the center of the fidgeting creature. It stopped shaking after a few seconds—green blood spilling out of its gaping wound.
He turned to finish off the Spiderlings, but they had all vanished. Cowards. Mikhail tugged his dagger out of the wall and proceeded up a ramp on the far side of the room.
The Sigillum Sanguis doors were already unlocked. This surprised Mikhail, as he had always needed to find the key that unlocked the doors on a Dremora in prior expeditions in the Deadlands. Not that I'm complaining. He guessed that, by that point, he had been in Oblivion for about twenty minutes or so.
"Stay alive a little longer, Baurus," Mikhail whispered to himself. "I'm almost done."
He pushed the doors open. The Sigillum Sanguis was, like always, the largest room located at the top of the tallest tower—having an upper and lower section all to itself. What was different about this Sigillum Sanguis was that there wasn't a single Daedra in sight. Normally this part of the tower had the most demons protecting it, since it was where the power source for the Oblivion Gate was held.
"So..." a deep, distorted voice that Mikhail suspected belonged to a Dremora. "The Gate Closer. You have a lot of nerve, for a mortal."
Mikhail scanned the room but was unable to find the speaker. "Show yourself!"
"You have been a pain in Lord Dagon's side." Loud thuds moved closer to the staircase that connected the lower and upper sections of the Sigillum Sanguis.
Despite his fear caused by encountering a Daedra who could speak the Imperial tongue fluently, Mikhail laughed. "You think I care about your lord?"
The Daedra laughed as well. "No. I understand, of course—nothing worse than a foreign invader that wants to destroy you and your home. That, however, hasn't stopped you from doing the very same."
"I am merely trying to protect the innocent lives that your lord threatens." Mikhail couldn't believe what was happening. He was arguing with a Daedra about the ethics of invading foreign soil. "I would not be here if Mehrunes Dagon didn't wish to take Tamriel for himself."
Finally the Daedra appeared at the top of the staircase. Mikhail recognized it from a book of Daedra as a Xivilai, the strongest among the humanoid Daedra races. It stood at around eight feet tall, dwarfing the seven-foot-tall Nordic warrior. It wore a suit of Daedric armor over its muscular frame. Horns grew out of its pale grey head. Its eyes were as white as snow.
"According to Lord Dagon, Tamriel belongs to him." The Xivilai descended down the staircase. In one hand it wielded a Daedric battleaxe and in the other was a warhammer. Bastard's strong; it uses only one hand to carry a weapon that a normal man would need two for. "Most of his followers—both the Daedra that serve him and the Mythic Dawn—believe his words to be true. I, however, know it is just an excuse to leave the Deadlands. Everything he destroys here doesn't stay that way for long. Your realm isn't nearly as resiliant."
"Why follow him if you can see past his lies?" Mikhail asked.
"What can I say? A loyal servant never questions his master." It strolled down the stairs with a spring in its step, as if thinking that it was superior to Mikhail in every possible way. "And perhaps killing you would earn me a spot as his second-in-command."
"I thought that was Mankar Camoran was—"
The Xivilai once again laughed. "That elf thinks himself as such, though he is important. If his cult hadn't assassinated your Emperor and the rest of his bloodline, none of this would have been possible."
Mikhail went quiet. Do they not know about Martin? Was the gate in Kvatch a coincidence? He shook his head, knowing that he was far beyond believing anything was a coincidence anymore. After all, having been arrested for a murder he did not commit then placed in the cell that housed Uriel Septim's escape route was, according to the Emperor, an act of fate.
The Xivilai finally made its way down to the lower section of the Sigillum Sanguis. It looked down at Mikhail from the base of the stairs with a smile on its face. "Camoran was going to be rewarded handsomely." Then, as if having read Mikhail's mind, it said, "that was, until, another Septim was found living in the Chapel of Akatosh. Now he'll be lucky to survive Lord Dagon's wrath, once he is finally able to leave this realm."
"How did Mehrunes learn of Martin?"
"The priest isn't all he appears to be. Once, years ago, he was a Daedra worshiper. Prince Sanguine, to be more specific," it added. "Dagon was bragging to Sanguine about being behind the plot that eliminated all of the Septims. Sanguine simply laughed and said, 'you missed one.' After some digging around and a few sacrifices here and there, Martin was found."
Mikhail didn't want to believe that what the Xivilai said about Martin was true. But it spoke with an easy confidence that one would use when revealing a horrible truth.
"Why tell me all this?" Mikhail asked curiously.
It shrugged. "I see no harm in telling this information to dead men." The Xivilai paused for a moment. "Tell me, what is your name?"
"Why?"
"When I present your head to Lord Dagon, I'd prefer to not refer to you as the Gate Closer," it explained. "Lord Dagon hates the fact that the gates can be closed, and it would not be wise to remind him."
He sighed. "They call me the Hero of Kvatch. What is it you are known as?"
"I am Throk. I have slain a thousand men and mer, and you, Hero of Kvatch, will be next."
Throk charged with an impossible speed for its size. Mikhail barely managed to roll away from the warhammer that had been aimed at his head. He got back up on his feet and swiped at the Daedra but missed by a large margin.
"Not much of a fighter, it seems," Throk said as he stalked towards Mikhail.
"You haven't seen anything yet."
Mikhail feigned left with his greatsword then swung it to the right, hoping to catch his large opponent by surprise.
Throk dropped his warhammer and grabbed Mikhail's blade in mid-air. With a powerful tug, he ripped it from the Nord's hands then threw it to the opposite side of the Sigillum Sanguis.
"When will I see something then?" Throk laughed.
Mikhail whipped out his steel dagger. He wasn't nearly as skilled with it as he was with a greatsword, but still had been able to escape the Dagon Shrine with Baurus and the Argonian using one.
Throk, still chuckling to himself, bent down to pick up his warhammer. Mikhail fired a lightning bolt at the Xivilai and hit him in his shoulder.
At first Mikhail thought that the spell had done a significant amount of damage since Throk was staring at the ground in silence. Then he began to laugh his sick, demented laugh as he looked up. "Not bad. Didn't know you wanted to fight dirty. I can do dirty."
A large fireball erupted from Throk's open palm. Mikhail had enough time to conjure a ward, but the amount of force behind the Destruction spell sent him flying across the room. He landed hard on the bottom of the lower section's staircase.
"Not bad yourself," Mikhail moaned as he pushed himself onto his feet. His helmet had come off during his time in the air, landing somewhere he hadn't seen.
Throk moved slowly towards his warhammer. Mikhail couldn't tell if it was because the Daedra was injured or if he was just showing off how little the Nord's magic had done to him.
Throk looked at Mikhail and grimaced. "Ugh. Why must all you mortals be so hideous?"
Mikhail started climbing up the stairs, taking a step back each time Throk moved closer. If I can reach the Sigil Stone, I'll survive. The Nord in Mikhail made him think that it would make him a coward to flee from the demon, but he didn't want to die knowing that he could have helped Baurus save his family.
I have to distract Throk, else he'll kill me before I ever get to the stone. "Me, hideous? Have you never seen yourself?"
Throk stopped. "What's wrong with the way I look?"
Mikhail continued ascending towards the Sigil Stone as he answered. "Well horns aren't exactly attractive. Not to us mortals, at least. Plus your skin color is so unnatural. You can have my helmet if you want. In fact, I insist."
"No thanks. I'll need it to cover your shocked expression when I present your head to Lord Dagon."
Mikhail was halfway up the staircase. "Why would I be shocked? You've made it awfully obvious that you're a combatant without equal."
Just as he had expected, Throk took the false compliment and thrived off of it. "I've fought in the name of Mehrunes Dagon for thousands of years. Not once have I let down the Prince of Destruction."
"Not even during the Battlespire invasion?" Mikhail asked.
"Lord Dagon used the Mazken for that failed attempt to seize Tamriel," Throk pointed out. "He had grown tired of the normal Dremora that serve him, so he convinced many of the Mazken to turn against their former master, Jaciel Morgen, and fight in his name."
"Why the Mazken?"
"Sheogorath uses them in the Shivering Isles, so my lord saw no reason he couldn't use them as well. Suffice to say, he slaughtered the remaining Mazken and returned to using the Dremora and Xivilai that inhabit the Deadlands."
Just a few more steps. "Why had he grown tired of your race? Are you not all you're cracked up to be?"
"Of course I am!" Throk snapped. "Lord Dagon doesn't always choose the most logical choice, which would be me. I hope that by presenting you to him, he will see that I and the other Daedra can have more uses than just mindless killing."
"You're going to kill me to prove that you can do more than just kill?"
Throk moved over a little bit so that Mikhail was still in his line of sight. He must not be as wise as he thinks if he hasn't realized what I'm doing by now. "I'm not much into bringing things back alive. Although, Lord Dagon would probably enjoy torturing you alive."
Just as Mikhail was completely on the upper section of the Sigillum Sanguis, an expression of realization appeared on Throk's face. The Xivilai smirked. "Oh... you sly, little man..."
Mikhail rushed towards the Sigil Stone—desperation pushing him to move faster than he ever had in his heavy set of ebony armor. Despite his speed, he could hear Throk stomping up the stairs at a quicker pace.
His hand grabbed the magical artifact and plucked it from the spot it was floating in. The ground began to shake, and somewhere not to far away Mikhail heard Throk shout in his Daedric language.
Mikhail, while trying to remain on his feet, turned around to see Throk was foaming at the mouth. "You disgusting worm! You dare defy me!?"
"Tell Mehrunes that I'll be coming for him," Mikhail taunted.
Throk roared. He hurled his battleaxe with pin-point accuracy right at Mikhail.
Mikhail tried to duck or move out of the way, but his feet wouldn't budge. All he could do was close his eyes, not wanting to watch himself die.
Then the world went black.
Once his senses returned to him, Mikhail felt cold. He opened his eyes and saw that he was lying on the snow covered ground of northern Cyrodiil. "That was close," he mumbled to himself.
He got up to his feet slowly, still in shock that he had almost lost in battle to a single Daedra. Mikhail tried to reassure himself that Throk had much more fighting experience than him, but it didn't help much.
Mikhail went to brush snow off his face when he remembered that he had been holding his steel dagger. Next he remembered that he had left his ebony greatsword and helmet behind in the Deadlands. I can always replace them later.
"Baurus?" Mikhail called out. No response. There wasn't a single sound, and now that the Oblivion Gate was closed he couldn't see very far.
A small fire appeared in Mikhail's hand, just enough for him to see a few feet in front of him. "Baurus?" he repeated as he got closer to the Redguard's home.
It wasn't long before he came across the dead bodies. As far as he could tell, the entire horde had either been killed or fled. "And I couldn't even take on one Daedra."
One of the bodies was exceptionally large. Upon further examination, Mikhail discovered it was Baurus's horse. Up until then he had thought that there was a slim chance that Baurus had survived the onslaught, but his hopes were dashed when he saw the butchered animal.
Then a nearly inaudible sound reached Mikhail's ears. It came from the house.
Mikhail moved quietly, half expecting that it was a stray Daedra that had made the noise. But as he got closer, the sound began more defined and he recognized it as crying.
The door creaked loudly as he opened it, but the crying didn't stop. In fact, it sounded as if it was coming from inside the room. Mikhail willed the fire in his hand to grow bigger. He gasped when he saw who was crying.
It was Baurus. The Blade was weeping heavily over a dead female Redguard that couldn't be anyone other than his wife. She had died with a faint smile on her face, as if in her last moments she was at peace.
Mikhail didn't know what to do. If Baurus had noticed him enter the house he didn't show it. After a minute of watching in silence, Mikhail softly said, "I'm so sorry."
"I... I failed her... just like I failed... the Emperor," Baurus whispered in between sobs.
"You couldn't—"
"Kole is missing. He's probably dead too. Because of me."
"You don't know that. He might be hiding in the woods, or maybe he ran to Bruma."
Baurus looked up. Mikhail had never seen such a painful expression in his life—the expression of a man who lost his son and wife. "He's five-years-old. Do you really think he could have survived in the woods or escaped to Bruma? Alone?"
"Maybe—"
"Leave me alone," Baurus ordered. He placed his head back on his wife's shoulder and went back to crying.
Respecting the widower's wishes, Mikhail crept past him to explore the rest of the house. Maybe there's a clue to where Kole is. If he's still alive.
He entered what he assumed to be the living room. He took a few steps forward then tripped over a table, falling and crashing onto the floor loudly. Mikhail cursed under his breath for causing such a racket.
Just as he was about to push himself up, he heard what he thought was a bark. Following that was a young voice shushing something to be quiet.
Mikhail suddenly remembered Baurus mentioning that the last time he had visited his family that he had brought with him a puppy for Kole.
Hoping that his hunch was correct, Mikhail raised his illuminated hand up to examine the room. In the far corner was a dresser, and under it was what looked like a false floor.
He crawled over to it and found that he was right. The false floor was actually a hidden door that Mikhail guessed lead to an underground room or basement. He pressed his ear up against it and made out the sound of shallow breathing.
"Kole?"
Silence.
"Kole, are you in there?"
Silence.
Mikhail tried to open the hatch but it wouldn't budge. It must be locked from the inside. "Kole, if you're in there, unlock the door."
He expected no response, but to his surprise a muffled voice answered back to him. "Who are you? Where's my mommy?"
Relief flooded over Mikhail. He couldn't bring himself to tell Kole what happened, but he did say, "my name is Mikhail. I'm a friend of your father."
"Daddy? He's here?"
"Yes, your daddy is here."
"Prove it."
Mikhail was surprised how smart Kole was. He is Baurus's son, after all. "Stay in there. I'll be right back."
Not waiting for Kole to respond, Mikhail raced back to the kitchen. Baurus seemingly hadn't heard the conversation as he was still lying over his wife's body. "Baurus, Kole's alive. He's here, in the house."
"Don't lie to me," Baurus warned.
"He's in the basement."
Baurus looked over his shoulder. Mikhail could see the smallest amount of hope in the man's eyes. "I swear, if you are lying—"
"I'm not," Mikhail promised.
Baurus slowly moved past Mikhail and into the living room. He slumped to his knees in front of the dresser and in a low tone mumbled, "Kole?"
"Daddy?"
"Kole!" Baurus jumped to his feet and shoved the dresser over. "Open the hatch!"
A click later the hatch was open. Inside was a small Baurus with a bloody bandage covering part of his face. Next to him was a small grey hound. "Daddy!"
Baurus scooped Kole up into his arms and cradled him. Mikhail saw tears of joy and relief fall from his eyes like rain from a storm. "I thought I lost you!"
"The monsters attacked me and Mommy," Kole said as he wrapped his small arms around his father. "She told me and Wolfy to go in there and wait for her. We were down there forever."
Mikhail was sure how Baurus was feeling at the moment. On one hand, he had just lost his wife. On the other hand, he just recovered the son he thought was lost or dead. Mikhail felt both happy and sad for his friend at the same time.
Minutes passed as father and son hugged each other so tightly that Mikhail wasn't sure that they would ever be able to let go of each other. Then Kole asked, "where's Mommy?"
Baurus looked at Mikhail. His stare seemed to be asking what he should do. Mikhail shook his head, suggesting that at the time being they just avoid the topic.
Baurus nodded. "She's... not here. She wants us to go to a safe place, one where the monsters will never get you. It's called Cloud Ruler Temple."
"When will she get there?"
"Soon, Kole," Baurus choked out. "Soon."
Baurus headed towards the kitchen, still carrying Kole in his arms. The puppy that had been in the basement tagged along next to both of them. Mikhail followed close behind, extinguishing his flame before anyone was in the kitchen in order to hide the body in there with darkness. Mikhail directed them towards where he had placed his horse, hoping that it was still alive.
Luckily it was. Baurus placed Kole on the horse. "Stay here son," he said as he picked up the puppy and put it into the child's arms. "Mikhail, take him to the temple. I'll catch up later, after I've... taken care of business.
"As you say."
"Will you and Mommy be at the good place soon?" Kole asked.
"Yes, son. Mikhail will take care of you until then."
Mikhail grabbed the reins and started to lead the horse and child down the dark road.
"Mikhail."
The Nord glanced over his shoulder at Baurus. "Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"There is no need to thank me," Mikhail said. "Family comes first." He summoned another fire in his hands and began following the road back to Bruma, swearing to himself and the gods that no harm would come to pass on Kole as long as he continued to breath.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So hopefully this longer chapter makes up for Chapter Two being so short. If not, then you are a hard person to please.
Thanks to harmoniedusoir for being my beta-reader. She said that the fight scenes were good, which is a great thing to hear since I think that I am awful with writing combat in a story. Perhaps months of writing "The Nerevarine's Return" and her advice are helping me get better at it.
In fact, thanks to harmoniedusoir again for making me a better writer.
Make sure you review so I won't have to ask you again next chapter. SPOILER ALERT!: I am going to ask you to do it again next chapter.