Lorkhan's Eclipse [A Skyrim Fanfiction]

12. Fatal Confidence

The catacombs open into another chamber, with a narrow passage that leads into a large cave. Hjeralt's simple description just doesn't do the room justice - what appears to be a shrine stands in one corner, an ornate chest to one side of it. A sarcophagus leans against one wall, a dead draugr laying just in front of it, and a narrow stone bridge spans over a small creek, but these appear to be the only man-made structures in the space.

Twin gouts feed into a waterfall that cascades over the stone and into a small pool of water at the base, with the creek feeding from that and continuing over rocks, beyond a gate built into the wall. I stop at the entrance of the cavern, staring in open-mouthed awe at the sight.

"Impressive, no?" Ralof asks, grinning from where he's crouched over the draugr. "Looks like it was an accidental addition, but one to be glad for!"

"It's beautiful," I hear my own voice sounding wistful and dreamy as I stare up. A narrow shaft of sunlight pierces the room, illuminating the waterfall in a way that makes it look like liquid gold. "We showed up here at the perfect moment, how weird is that?"

"It always looks like this in the game, even if you show up at night," Killian tells us. He's standing beside the chest and I can tell he's itching to open it - but clearly the story of the Scéadün has stuck with him.

It's almost as if Hadvar can tell, too, because he nods at the shrine. A small figure of a bear stands on a pedestal, carved from a dark stone with glittering red eyes - rubies, if I'm not mistaken. "That's the Ancient Nord totem for Tsun, the god of trials against adversity. Where you see his insignia, usually what's nearby is yours; a gift for withstanding your trials."

"Oh, so I can loot this," Killian says, pulling open the lid and looking inside. "Huh. That's pretty... weird."

"Whatever is found nearby is meant to help you in future trials," Hjeralt adds, standing up from where he was refilling his water skin from the pool. "It's supposed to be a good idea to take it, even if you think it's useless to you for now."

"A quiver of arrows is useless to me forever," Killian says, pulling out the offending item. "Actually, that gold might be useful," he adds, dropping the quiver and digging out something else.

"I'm low on arrows; I won't say no to more," I tell him, grabbing my own water skin. Hjeralt has the right idea; we don't know when we might see an arguably fresh water source again, so refilling skins right now seems clever.

As it turns out, there's a few things in the chest that seems to suit everybody eerily well. Potions, a necklace, arrows, and surprisingly a whetstone.

"Don't need fancy weapons, so long as they're sharp," Ralof tells us as he takes it. He makes a gesture to the small statue, before realising I'm watching. "What, you've never seen someone thank the gods?"

"No, I'm just curious to see how you do it," I tell him. He beckons me over, turning to the shrine.

"Lay your hand out flat, like they're giving you something," he says, demonstrating as I mimic. "Close it into a fist and bring that to your chest - then open your hand as you hold it out, palm down."

"What's it mean?" I ask. He chuckles, leaning against the stone slab the shrine rests upon.

"You're accepting their gift, and giving them your gratitude in exchange. Gratitude comes from the heart, so you have to make sure to touch your heart when you do it. Lets them know that you accept and appreciate what they've given you - which you should always do."

I make a mental note of that, and plan to scribble it into the little journal I'll acquire sometime later. I have to admit, Nordic history and customs seem pretty cool, and definitely something I could get behind – if the gods have such a strong influence in Skyrim, who am I to deny them?