World Eater

World Eater Ch.) 4 : Vodahmin

It was early morning when Alduin woke, roused by the persistent crowing of the rooster. With some effort, he rolled heavily onto his back, groaning as he did so. The previous days journey-and his awkward sleeping position in the hay- had left his muscles tense and aching. He rubbed his eyes and slowly propped himself into an upright position, looking around.

It took him a moment to remember where he was- Boti and jofthor's farm was another world in the day time light. The sky was only partially cloudy that morning, and he could make out much more of his surroundings.

the large farm and it's inhabitants dwellings made up the bulk of the small village- if he even could call it that. small fat flightless birds roamed the yard, pecking at the dirt on the road through the collection of huts. Beside him, several horses stood lazily lipping up mouthfuls of the dry yellow hay. He was startled by their size- he remembered he had once devoured a horse whole, now he was sure one could easily trample him to death if he got too close.

He kept his eyes cautiously on the beast closest to him, tensing as it got closer and closer, bending down its head to lip up some of the dry pale vegetation right by his hand. He didn't move, and held his breath, afraid it would scare and attack him if he did. After a few minutes when it didn't seem bothered by his presence, he let out his breath slowly. His eyes had never left the horse and he didn't notice he was no longer alone.

"Afraid of horses?" Alduin's eyes snapped up and met a pair of suspicious opaque black ones. A tall, broad shouldered nord stood at the entry, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He had long dark hair that was pulled back, and matching dark bushy facial hair. Alduin knew just as much about human body language as he did facial expressions- which wasnt much- but he thought this man looked...unfriendly- After a long minute elapsed and Alduin made no attempt at answering, the nord sighed and walked a few paces closer. "Ye got business at the stables?" He asked pointedly.

" Land woman allowed me to sleep in this horse dwelling, " Alduin explained carefully, doing his best to enunciate each word properly. It sounded fine to his ears, but the less he said the better. The man didn't look convinced though, so he added "I am traveling with the dovahkiin." It was the right thing to say, because suddenly the man's suspicious look morphed into what Alduin thought was pleasant surprise.

"What? The Dragon born has returned?" He asked. " Thank Talos! I feared the worst when she didn't return to fetch her horse...my name is Geimund, I am the stable master here Ivarstead." Alduin nodded.

"I am-" He hesitated, feeling the words stick in his throat. "...I am Vodahmin." He responded curtly, wishing the man would leave him be. Behind him, irridessa emerged from their hosts dwelling- and Alduin had never felt such intense relief. Upon seeing them, she paled, and hastily made her way to the stables to run interference.

"Geimund!" She called out as she approached, and Alduin relaxed when the man turned his attention to her, no longer feeling the weight of his scrutiny. He began to reflect broodingly on the perverse relief he had felt upon seeing her come to rescue him.

"Dragon born! I was starting to think we were all Dragon fodder!" Geimund teased her jovialy. Irridessa grimaced.

" I'm sorry I'm late, I got caught up on some business with the grey beards and I picked up a stray. " she explained, gesturing to Alduin still sitting in the hay. Geimund gave him a quick disinterested glance.

"Yeah, where did he come from? I don't recognize his accent." He asked curiously. She shrugged.

"Valenwood- he's a bastard of woodhearth. His father was some Elven noble." She waved condescendingly in his direction, like it wasn't even worth mentioning. Geimund's brow furrowed, and Alduin gave her a sharp look. He was familiar with the human concept of a "bastard"- being a child born out of wedlock. The lable was often used as an insult, and he bristled at the idea of who she was making him out to be- Vodahmin the bastard.