Chapter 17
Bosmer shivered and cursed in his mind as he walked up the slopes of an icy spire. He carried his bow like a bag, slapped tight to his back.
He wondered if he made the right decision in leaving his employment. He was paid accordingly, but it was not the right amount. He didn't argue however, as he knew that the condition for the full payment was to be able to retrieve the artifact. He and the others had failed.
And while Shakh was won over by Nirn's powerful persuasions of promised power, more gold, honor and vengeance, Bosmer decided he would let go. Nirn's eyes had changed, and they were no longer the stern eyes of the she-elf that had hired them. They had a hint of obsession; that Bosmer knew that would eventually consume her.
'Why… how… What caused her to change so dramatically?' Bosmer wondered. He thought about it in her perspective: An aspiring mage who is determined to accomplish a mission, in exchange for a promised future in the most powerful magic organization in the world.
He snorted, causing small vapors to flash from his nostrils.
'I guess when they say that magic is dangerous; they mean it in different ways.' He thought.
With his teeth clattering fiercely, he peered through the blizzard to find shelter. Returning to his home in Riften would take quite a while. The carriage was gone, and he had no horse. He was forced to be adventurous.
His eyes began to water, and then freeze over. Bosmer rubbed his hands rapidly, and was surprised to find that he couldn't feel them. It wasn't this cold before, and he wondered what had caused the sudden change of magic. He had suspicions that this was a conspiracy in an attempt to make him return to Winterhold. He chuckled as he thought how ridiculous and impossible that sounded.
His smile faded as he snapped back to reality; the cold would kill him in an hour or so. He needed shelter – fast.
Gritting his teeth, Bosmer forced his legs to dash against the gale and his eyes darted around, looking for a cave – anything to hide himself in.
His heart sank as he saw nothing but heavy snow. Even if there was a cave, the snow would have hidden the entrance by now. He clumsily began stabbing the thick snow with the end of his bow, trying to determine which of them held a cave entrance, and which of them was just piled up snow.
As his fingers began hurting from the frostbite, he sighed in relief as his bow sank deep into a giant pile. Without thinking, he dove in, expecting the hard stone floor to catch him, and wake his senses with pain.
However, Bosmer was met with a dark abyss, and he fell.
To be continued