Chapter 4:
Dila shook her head. Shadowscale? What was that?
Something bad, it seemed.
Because right when Torbjorn said it, people were already reaching for weapons and jumping on each other for a chance to fight with Siris.
Siris jumped on the table and drew his Dai-Katana with one swift move, at the same time decapitating one thug that was right behind Dila. He started dealing blows left and right, while Dila helped him with distant targets.
Even though Dila had very poor skills in bartering and unarmed combat, two things that were almost vital to her kind, she could fire an arrow like no one else could. One entered a Nord`s throat, another pierced a Redguard`s eye and another lodged itself in an Orc`s forehead, all in a space of three seconds.
Siris, on the other hand, had gone down from the table, and was quickly dealing death to all that stood within the striking range of his sword. He moved like a dancer, every move calculated, every muscle where it was supposed to be. Dila couldn`t help but feel impressed. That gentle Argonian could fight like a Dadric Lord.
Torbjorn came after her, and she dodged an overhead strike while sheathing her bow and grabbing two steel daggers from her belt. She parried another blow and jabbed at his throat. He moved surprisingly fast for a man his size, and was able to quickly move his head out of the way of the small but lethal blade before his throat turned into a rag. He went into frenzy and started slashing wildly. Dila was feeling overwhelmed. Her mind and eyes hadn`t been made for close combat. She tired rapidly…
- Dila, DUCK! – sounded a voice behind her, which she quickly obeyed.
All else happened too fast. A streak of white flashed beside her, a curtain of blood erupted from upward and a scream emerged from silence.
When she lifted her head, Siris was holding his now bloodied sword and Torbjorn was screaming and stumbling back, with a hand on his eye. Blood was running down his head. Siris spun and kicked him square in the chest. He flew and hit a shelf, knocking it`s contents on top of himself.
- Did you kill him? – Dila asked, and Siris took a moment to register the question.
- No. I cut off his right eye and broke two of his ribs. He will probably wake up in a couple of hours. Which… - He said, while cleaning picking up a map with his free hand and reading through it. – Will give us plenty of time to get out of this hold. If we are lucky, we might even be able to reach Whiterun tomorrow.
As he was walking out of the inn, Dila heard a soft cry. Siris didn`t even hesitate: he lifted his sword and stabbed the dying man `s head. The crying stopped. He cleaned his sword and sheathed it. Dila opened her mouth as if to say something, but he stopped her.
- I`ll tell you later. Now come. Unless the lady would like to wait for the big bad Nord who just tried to kill us wake up. – he flicked his wrist. Dila started walking toward the door with him. He grinned. – I knew you were smart.
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They had found a spot to set camp. Dila was setting up the tents while Siris was out to catch some food. All the while, he was relieving his past memories.
" - There is no doubt, Siris. You were born under the Shadow. You are to become a Shadowscale.
- But mother…
- I can`t do anything, Siris. – she had stroke her forehead. Siris had seen tears forming down her face. – You are going to be trained by the best. You are going to make Argonia proud.
His father had then entered the house. He had the smell of the alcohol in him. He was smilling stupidly and his stance was bumbling. Siris`s mother helped him sit down.
- Have you been drinking again? - his mother asked
- What if I have? – his father yelled. Seeing him drunk made Siris afraid. – You don`t command what I do with my time!
His mother recoiled from the explosion of anger. His father ordered Siris to come closer, an order which he promptly obeyed. His father then promptly slapped him. Hard.
- Don`t falter. – his dad said. He then slapped him with the other hand. – And pay attention.
- Yes, father… - Siris said, tears begging to roll down his eyes.
- And… - his father continued, hitting him so hard he fell on the floor. – Don`t cry."
"Well, I hope you are happy, dad. " Siris said, eyes coldly fixed ahead. "I didn`t shed a tear for you."
He had gotten so distratceted he had forgotten how long he was taking. Dila should be worrying about him, right now. He was lost in the forest, and had still not caught anything.
As he turned back to go another path, he heard something. The slightest crinkle of a twig snaping. Then he started hearing something brethe.
"Bear."
A big cave bear was eyeing him. Probably figured he would like something scaly for supper. Siris began reaching for his sword, but the bear attacked before he could do anything. Siris tried to step back, but ended up triping and falling flat on the ground. The bear jumped on top of him. Siris punched it`s face as fast as he could, kicking in his stomach at the same time.. The foul stench of rotten meat emanated from the bears opening mandibles. As the bear lunged for his throat, Siris could get his forearm between the bear`s jaws. His arm was now bleeding and, with another slight pressure from the bear`s part made his arm break.
"Am I really going to die by the hands of a bear?"
Siris closed his eyes. He felt the bear releasing his arm, which fell useless by his side. Then he heard the bear rear up for another lunge, and…
A thumping sound?
He opened his eyes again. The bear had his tongue lulling from his mouth side, an eye missing and an arrow on his head.
Siris looked to the side. Dila was standing in a rock, in a position like she had just fired the arrow. Siris pulled the carcass of the bear from over him.
He used his good right arm to get up. As he was panting, Dila said:
- At least now we have something to eat.
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Dila was trying to help Siris, but he kept insisting on letting it heal.
- Are you really sure?
- Yes. In a few minutes, I can show you what makes us Argonians different from the Khajit.
- Scales?
- Close. But no.
The rest of the way to the camp was relatively quiet. Siris had wandered quite far into the wilderness, but after fifteen minutes, they arrived at the small camp. Dila had set up two tents. Siris set by the little bonfire and lit it up.
- So, are you going to show me what you were talking about?
- Yes. Sorry, I just can`t do it while we are walking. I need to be calm. – he released his arm. It was bent in an angle painfull to see. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Dila was amazed by what followed. His arm began bending backwards. His skin began growing back and scales were forming over it. After a few seconds, he moved his now fixed hand. They were as good as new.
- What was that? – Dila asked, awestruck.
- Histskin. We Argonains can call upon the Hist to heal our wounds. That is all I know.
- What is the Hist?
- It is known by many things. – he said, looking at the fire. – But most of us like to refer to it as the "Trees of Argonia".
- Argonia?
- Black Marsh. Anyway, anymore questions?
- Yes actually. – she said, and Siris grinned. She began. – Back in the bar, that Nord you called Torbjorn said you ruined his business. What was that about?
- Shatter-Shield?- he said, looking at her. – He used to run a merchant business on Windhelm.
- I don`t see the problem in tha…
- Using Argonains as slave-labor. – he said, voice cutting as a razor. – Let`s just say I take any offense to my people very seriously. So, I waltzed in, opened a few locks and started a rebellion. Torbjorn lost his business, and I guess he wasn`t all that pleased that an Argonian had broken his business with Argonians.
- Wait. – Dila said, chuckling. – So you just simply walked into Windhelm, kicked a few doors and caused a rebellion?
Siris chuckled and nodded his head, as if he had realized how stupid that must`ve sounded.
- I guess that has something to do with that Shadowscale thing TOrbjorn mentioned. – Dila said, before starting to laugh.
She stopped laughing when she noticed Siris wasn`t laughing. He had his gaze fixed in her, green eyes looking at her like they could see right through her.
- If you don`t mind me asking… – she said, embarrassed. - …What is a Shadowscale?
Siris sighed. It was obvious he didn`t want to talk about that. Dila was ready to change topic when he began.
- Argonians are known for their guerrilla style of fighting. We use quick, brute strength, and then run. We… - he pointed to himself. – The Shadowscales, perfected that technique. We are Argonians born under the sign of the Shadow, and from a young age, we are thought how to kill. Silently. Simply put, we are the best assassins in all of Argonia.
- And you were…
- I was born, yes, under the Shadow. Since I was five years old, I learnt the best ways to kill. That`s what my body is built to do, now. Kill, kill, kill…
Dila was shocked.
"Five years old? That is a lot of experience to be put into a few soldiers!"
- Of course… - he said, calmly. – Now that you know that, I must kill you.
Dila jumped back, unsheathing her daggers. Was he serious? She began to feel afraid. He was a born killer, quite literally, and he would kill her in a few seconds if he stood up…
But he didn`t stood up. He merely threw his head backwards and started laughing out loud.
- Got you! – he said, between bouts of laughter. – You should have seen your face!
She slowly released the position. The she went up to him and hit him in the arm. Then she began laughing too. She then sat beside him. The two just sat by the fire, watching as the flames slowly crept upwards, reaching for the skies.
For Dila, who was accustomed to roaming around with a caravan, it was difficult to just sit down and relax after hunting. She usually had to hunt enough to feed the caravan. And not many times did a bear attack go well. Going around with just another person was a new experience to her.
It was dangerous.
It was scary.
It was lonely.
But she was enjoying the feeling.
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Siris knew the way to Whiterun by heart. Not that he needed to, as they had a map of their own, but it helped when he knew of a few shortcuts.
"I guess this troubled mind is not just killing, then." He though to himself, as they wandered through a prairie. They had run into a few thieves in the way, but they had usually bolted when they saw Siris`s sword.
"It`s strange, though. Why did I tell her about the Shadowscales? I just met her." Siris thought, beginning to mull over the idea. He eventually arrived at the conclusion she was the first Beast, aside from Talen-Jei and Keerava, who had been helping him. It usually went the other way around, and Siris didn`t mind it. It was good to have a good friend in this land filled with proud Nords, wanting that all Mer and Beat races simply left the country. And friends, true friends, was one of the things Siris could count on his fingers. And still there would be fingers left.
- Much farther? – he heard Dila ask.
- Not much. – he retorted. – In fact…
They went up a little hill. Siris breathed in the fresh air.
- Not much at all.
Siris could see houses with yellow roofs, surrounded by a stone wall, which he knew was only strong enough to resist a few soldiers. He saw the Jarl`s home, Dragonsreach, sitting on it`s place, proudly elevating itself above all other houses, with it`s tower`s height being extrapolated by the rock in which the manor sat.
Whiterun was on their sights.