Ignem Tristitia (An Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Prequel) [ON HOLD]

Chapter Thirty - Punctured Guts

Veezare heard a sharp thwack as the arrow plunged into the Thalmor officer's neck. He looked up behind him, and spotted me, lowering my bow. He kept staring at me, but I didn't notice. I ran off with the twins.

His ears were suddenly immersed in the storm of voices in fear. He turned back around to look at the platform in front of him. The Thalmor had begun to leave Sjorvar, trying to calm the citizens. Lumak lunged at a guard and tackled him, pulling out his axe and burying it deep into the guard's frightened face. He stood up as three more Thalmor surrounded him.

"Give up while you still can," one said, pointing his saber at Lumak.

"Tell that to your head split friend," Lumak retorted with a smirk.

"Kill him!" the guard commanded.

Two guards advanced on Lumak, swinging their swords at Lumak's neck. He jumped; the blades smacked against each other and sparked against his Orcish armor. Promptly upon landing, he swung his axe, clanging it against the shimmering golden sword of the Thalmor. He swung it the other way; it roughly collided with the second Thalmor's neck, sending him flailing to the ground as blood danced across the air.

Veezare sighed and joined in the fight. He unsheathed his sword and hurled himself at a Thalmor guard. The guard parried the attack with his sword, then kicked Veezare in the chest. He flew backwards, turning around mid-fall. He couldn't stop himself before his sword pierced through the stomach of a woman in the crowd. His face darkened with surprise.

"Why, y -- agh," the woman gasped. She collapsed onto the ground, the sword sliding out of her flesh.

"I'm sorry, I-" Veezare tried to apologize.

The Thalmor swung his sword at Veezare's head; he quickly spun around and furiously slammed his gleaming green glass blade into the Thalmor's breastplate, tearing a hole through armor and flesh. The Thalmor yelped and flailed backwards.

"Bastard," Veezare muttered, twirling his sword in his hand. He walked back over to the innocent woman who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm going to die," she said, her eyes tearing up, her hands grasping her stomach, gushing blood.

"No, you're not, you're gon-, you're gonna be fine," Veezare stuttered. "You're not going to die. Don't talk like that."

"Oh, don't try to convince me," she coughed. "I know it wa- argh, wasn't your fault."

Veezare didn't know what to say. She squeezed her shoulder tightly. "Do you have a family?"

"I have a daughter," she replied, her voice trembling. "Had."

"What happened to her?" Veezare asked, looked across the platform, past the infighting citizens, and at Lumak fending off Thalmor.

Lumak ran over and jabbed his sword through an approaching Thalmor's cuirass. He fell to the ground and Lumak stomped on his head, bashing in his helmet.

"She, agh," the woman lurched and coughed, blood dripping out onto the stone pavement. She lied back down on the ground. "She died when she was four. Drowned."

"Think of her," Veezare said soothingly, contrasting strongly against the roaring fight. "Close your eyes and picture her face."

The woman did as he said. She closed her eyes and smiled. A translucent, glimmering tear escaped her eye. She laughed softly, coughed, then froze. She lied motionless amidst the crowd, against the cold moist stone pavement. Veezare stared at her face. She had long, wavy chocolate-colored hair, softly swaying in the wind. He had noticed earlier she had pale blue eyes that sparkled like a magelight. She had light yellow skin, bathed in a thin layer of dirt. She wore thin, loose grey rags. He saw the blood pooling underneath the rags, and flints of rage collided and sparked.