III

Two Fighters Guild mercenaries, Sig and Dartus, stayed in the bushes that hid them, watching the bandit scout from their concealed location. They were only two out of the three soldiers assigned to this contract, and they were waiting for the third.

Sig, a Nord, looked from the bandit watchman to Dartus, "How do we know this 'Arken' kid's plan isn't going to backfire and get us killed?"

The Imperial, Dartus, kept looking at the watchman, "I've seen Arken work before. His plan will work."

Sig scoffed, "Well, I'm glad you trust him. I trust that Dunmer twerp about as far as I can throw him."

Dartus finally looked at Sig, "Arken may be new, but he knows what he's doing. Trust me."

As if on cue, a pair of hands reached out of the shadows behind the bandit and yanked him in. There was no sound of struggle, only a loud crack before the bandit's lifeless body fell out of the shadows, his head turned around at an odd angle. Arken slipped into view by the door the bandit was guarding and motioned toward the brush, signaling his fellow soldiers to join him.

Dartus looked at Sig and smirked, "I told you." The two men joined their elf companion and went through the door. Arken kept one hand on his sword as they cautiously advanced through the dark hallways of the bandit fortress. The objective of the contract was to eliminate the bandit leader in this fort. Apparently the locals were tired of being harassed by this bandit gang and had called in the Fighters Guild to put a stop to it.

Arken took a moment to reflect as they moved through the halls. The last two years had gone by fairly quickly. It turned out that Ra'Jharra was right about House Redoran. As a hireling of House Redoran, Arken was restricted to stealing from the other great houses, but the other houses had more money and goods then the Redoran, so that suited him just fine. He could sell the stolen goods to Redoran merchants to act as fences and they would help him avoid the wrong end of the law. However, to keep up appearances, Redoran guards still had to act if they caught Arken stealing. Redoran citizens would begin to question the house's morals if they allowed a thief to run about unchecked. Still, having the great house's resources backing him had greatly bolstered Arken's thieving lifestyle and poured all the more money into his coffers.

It was also during the last two years that Arken's new friend, Fynix, had accidentally discovered that Arken was a thief. Arken had been snooping around Wolverine Hall and was about to snatch of some very expensive alchemy equipment when Fynix walked in on him unexpectedly. What struck Arken as odd, though, was that Fynix kept his mouth shut. Rather than running to the guards and ratting him out, Fynix simply turned around and walked out of the room. It was something that Arken was a little uneasy about, wondering whether Fynix was going to try to use this against him. He still had to talk to Fynix about it.

Dartus waving them back brought Arken out of his reverie, causing him to tighten his grip on his sword. Arken crouched low and waited with Sig while Dartus scouted the hallway. The Imperial moved cautiously forward for a moment before looking around and waving his companions up. Arken and Sig joined him as they resumed their careful movement. They finally came to a large room lined with pillars and a desk at the far end. The bandit leader was sitting at the desk with his head buried in some paperwork while the other ten or eleven of them milled around the room.

Dartus kept his eyes on the room, looking around and analyzing the situation, "Needless to say, we're badly outnumbered." He pointed to the desk at the far end of the room, "That's the leader. We kill him, and any other bandits that survive will be too busy fighting over who's going to succeed him to be a bother to anyone."

Arken nodded as he took his bonemold longbow from his back, "He's mine. When I shoot, you two move in from two different directions at the same time."

Sig frowned, "We attack individually instead of together? That's suicide."

Arken shook his head slowly as he gauged the distance to the bandit leader, "Think about it Sig. The leader dies suddenly, then they're attacked from two different directions at the same time. They'll be too disoriented to mount a counterattack."

"The plan has merit." Dartus nodded at the young Dark Elf, "Make your shot, Arken, but make it count. If you miss, this whole thing falls apart fast."

Arken smirked mischievously, "I don't make a habit of failing, Dartus." With that final word, Arken split off from them and moved through the shadows around to a ladder that led to a higher vantage point. He perched on a ceiling rafter above everyone else and drew an arrow from the quiver on his back. He nocked the arrow on the bow and drew back, sighting the bandit leader. Sig and Dartus doubted that Arken could make the shot, but they didn't know that he'd been paying very good attention while Ra'Jharra had been teaching him about marksmanship. Arken loosed the arrow, letting it fly through the air to its mark. The bandit leader sat up in his chair to speak to one of his men just in time for the steel arrow to stake him squarely in the chest, killing him instantly and pinning the body to the chair. The bandits all drew their weapons and started looking around. Sig and Dartus' attacks came briefly afterward. Sig jumped out of the shadows along the wall swinging his silver claymore with reckless abandon while Dartus stepped out from the darkness and unleashed a fireball from his palm. Two more bandits died suddenly, adding to the confusion and panic that was beginning to set in among them. Arken drew back another arrow and loosed it at another bandit down below, dropping him dead on the floor with a steel arrow through his neck. He drew another arrow back and shot another bandit in the chest while Sig and Dartus each clamed one more bandit each. With most of them dead, the four remaining bandits all turned and ran, disappearing into the halls of the fortress. Arken smiled. His plan had worked flawlessly. He allowed himself a self-satisfied nod as he jumped from the rafter down to the floor below, landing in a crouch.

Sig secured his claymore to his back as he walked up to Arken, "It would seem I owe you an apology, Dunmer. Your idea worked better than I thought it would."

Arken nodded and smirked to Sig, "Just remember this next time you're working with a Dunmer twerp that you don't trust any farther than you can throw."

Sig's eyes widened, "You heard…" He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

Dartus set his mace on his belt as he walked up to Arken, "That was a good shot, Arken. Your plan went down without a hitch, and it was the only reason we did so well. I'm going to recommend to Eydis that that you get a bonus for that."

Arken shrugged, "Suits me fine, but I'm happy with the five hundred drakes I'll be getting." The group left the fortress and made the half-day journey back to Balmora to collect their rewards. After leaving the Fighters Guild with six hundred and fifty drakes as opposed to the five hundred he was expecting, Arken went next door to the Mages Guild and paid the travel fee to the guild guide to be transported to Sadrith Mora. Arken couldn't put it off any longer. He had to talk to Fynix, ask him why he didn't squeal. The question was gnawing at him. Arken came to Fynix's house, which looked like the cap of an enormous mushroom much like all the rest of the architecture in Sadrith Mora, and knocked on the door. Fynix shouted through the door for him to enter and Arken pushed his way in. He found Fynix at his desk with his nose in a book, a very familiar position. Arken walked up next to the desk and leaned on the wall, causing his chitin armor to click loudly as it protested his body's position.

Fynix's head came up when he heard the noise, "Oh, Arken. Good to see you. Everything all right?"

Arken nodded, "Just fine. I just dropped in to talk."

Fynix chuckled, "Well, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not much of a conversationalist." His chuckle faded to nothing when he saw Arken's sincere look, "But something tells me you're not here for idle chatter, are you."

Arken nodded slowly and he took a deep breath before continuing, "Why didn't you sell me out?"

Fynix's brow crumpled and he canted his head, "Sell you out…Oh, you mean, to the guards…about your…"

"Yes, about my being a thief." Arken nodded, "That was over a month ago. You've had plenty of time to sell me out to the first guard or legionnaire you see and claim the bounty. Why haven't you?"

Fynix set his quill down and sat back in his chair, "That's a fair question, I suppose. You're probably wondering if I'm going to blackmail you or something."

Arken nodded again, "That's crossed my mind once or twice, yes."

Fynix nodded slowly as he sat there, wondering how to phrase his answer, "Yes, it is a fair question. As for a fair answer for you, I'm afraid I don't have one."

Arken furrowed his brow, "Come again?"

Fynix breathed a deep sigh before continuing, "To be perfectly honest with you, Arken, I don't really know why I didn't sell you out. I know what you do is illegal. I'm a law-abiding citizen myself, although by not ratting you out I've already broken two or three laws. I know that it's wrong, but for some reason I just can't bring myself to do it. There's something…" He trailed off for a moment while looking at Arken, "There's something different about you, Arken. Something that won't let me sell you to the highest bidder like a cheap sack of saltrice." He paused for a moment before leaning forward and putting his elbows on his desk, "I don't mean to pry, but how did you grow up? Friends? Family? Childhood?"

Arken shrugged, making his armor click again, "Not much to tell. My parents were merchants in Cyrodill. They were killed by a wolf when I was seven. I don't know why the wolf didn't come after me, but it didn't. I made Bravil my new home."

Fynix cocked an eyebrow, "I'm not all that familiar with the geography of Cyrodill."

Arken scoffed, "If you own Bravil and the Void, rent out Bravil and live in the Void. It's a lousy little dive of a city. Needless to say, I don't have any fond memories of the place. I was too young to have a trade or livelihood, so I often had to steal food just to survive. The guards usually ignored me when I was little. I guess they just wrote me off as a little beggar kid. As I grew older, I started stealing things that were a little more valuable then a loaf of bread, which in turn earned me the guard's attentions. It didn't take long before they started threatening me with prison. When I was eighteen, I finally scrounged up enough money to be able to move out of that stink hole. On my way to my new home in Leyawin, a nicer city in the south of the province, I ran into the same wolf that killed my parents." Arken reached around to his back and produced a rolled up bedroll that he showed to Fynix, "Obviously, he didn't survive our encounter. I skinned the thing and made this bedroll out of its pelt. I still find it ironic that the creature that made my childhood so cold now keeps me warm at night. Anyway, I kept at the life of a thief while I was in Leyawin, using freelance adventurer as a cover. Made quite a few drakes while I was at it."

Fynix nodded as he listened, "So what brought you here to Morrowind? 'Business' opportunities, perhaps?"

Arken chuckled, "Hardly. I got cocky. I tried to run a job into Castle Leyawin, but didn't bother to check that they had recently increased the patrols. I got nabbed, and the guards recognized me instantly. They searched my house and turned up all the stolen goods I was keeping there, a total of two hundred and fifty thousand drakes worth." Arken smiled nostalgically, "I hold the 'honor' of having the highest bounty ever recorded in the Leyawin City Watch's history. They called in the Legion, who deported me out here." Arken stood up and straightened his cuirass, "So there you have it. My entire history up to present. I wouldn't blame you for turning me in. Any other law abider I know would. It's your choice."

Fynix sat there, thinking for a long moment before shaking his head, "I'm not going to turn you in, Arken." He sat back in his chair, "And I'll tell you why. I won't turn you in because I think you deserve more than that. Yes, I understand that you're a thief, but what else are you. What are you under the thief veneer you've built up around yourself?" Fynix pointed at Arken, "It's the man beneath the thief I look at when I see you. And the man I see is a good man who's had to make some rough choices in life." Fynix smiled, "Your secret's safe with me."

Arken returned his smile, "You don't know just how much I appreciate this, Fynix."

Fynix shook his head, "Don't mention it. It's the least I can do for a friend."

After quietly excusing himself, Arken left Fynix to his studies. He left Fynix's house, but didn't go back to the Mage's Guild to go home. Instead, he went down the street a little ways and found a quiet place to sit for a while. Arken sat down on the dirt road and thought. He thought about the word Fynix used. "Friend". It echoed around in his brain for a long time. Arken thought back to his young life in Cyrodill and quickly came to realize that no one had ever used that word referring to him before. Arken had never had a friend before, at least not a true friend. The friends he had before were more allies of convenience than actual friends. Never before in his life had anyone actually called Arken "friend" the way Fynix just had. It was a new concept to him, and he really didn't know how to respond to it. Arken hung his head and looked at the dirt road in front of him. He never had any friends in the past, so he didn't know how to act like a friend now. Fynix saw him as a friend, enough so that he wouldn't turn him in to the guards or the Legion. This was a first experience for Arken, and he didn't know how to handle it.

Arken's head came up and he stared straight ahead with a determined look in his eye. It occurred to him that he already knew how to be a friend. It was simply the law of fair dues. One good turn deserves another. Fynix helped him out because he was a friend. It was only fair that Arken do the same. Arken smiled. After all, that's what friends do: they look out for each other. Arken allowed himself another self-satisfied nod as he stood and started back to Wolverine Hall. A mold had been broken today. Arken had broken the mold of being a friendless thief with no one to turn to. For the first time in his life, Arken now knew someone who he could truly call friend. If nothing else in this world was, that was cause enough to smile.