literature

Sealed Away [The Fort]

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Literature Text

Deer Dyree.

Today I found a small book. I think I will stard to keep a dyree. Falstad things that it is a better use of my abletys than learning to fite. I-

---

"You've been at it all day, how's it going?"

I looked up from my desk. Falstad.

"This was a terrible idea. It takes me so long to put a word into writing. I don't even know if what I'm writing is right. What am I supposed to put into this thing anyway?"

"Well, I don't know, just keep track of your thoughts, you always have all these great ideas, I'm sure there's someone out there who would want to hear them."

I furrowed my brow and looked to my writing.

"Here. Look at what I've got so far."

"You're mocking me right? You know I can't read."

"I just... I don't know. If I'm writing for someone to read I think its wise for someone to read it and tell me what they think."

"Well, I wish I could help you but I think you're the only one in this camp that knows how to read."

I buried my face in my hands. How did I get roped up with these bandits? Maybe Gretchen was right. I should have just given it up to go to Winterhold with her.

Falstad turned around quickly enough to startle me.

"I think something's happening. Come on, let's go check it out."

The sunlight blinded me. Its warmth permeated my skin, which had grown accustomed to the cold darkness of the fort's inner chambers. I could hear the noise of fighting and my fingers brushed against the quiver on my hip, just to make sure that it was filled. I saw a few others emerge from various corners and crannies, all half-jogging to the source of the shouting.

"Hey what's going on out there?" Falstad yelled at the sentries perched above the gate. Benger, half-drunk as usual, teetered over the precipice and for a moment I was sure he was going to topple over and wind up in Sovngarde.

"hic... Just... WOLVES. Wolves... and some weird black thing. I'dunno. I don't BURRRRRP see so good."

I felt a tension I didn't notice unravel itself. Just wolves. Black thing, though? That was curious. I was curious. Falstad had already holstered his bow.

"C'mon, buddy, I'm starving. I think we can raid the larder while everyone else is all riled up."

"Aren't you curious about the black thing?"

"Eh. I'm sure it's nothing. I don't think Benger even knows what day it is."

"Hm. I'm going to go check it out."

"Huh. Your loss then. I'm hankering for a sweet roll."

Falstad strode past me and I turned my attention to the ladder before me. Black thing?

As soon as my head cleared the ramparts I nearly fell. The stench of old piss, skooma and moonshine winded me, and Benger's curious face exhaled the toxic cocktail as if he was the only one in the world capable of blessing the land with these fumes... and he probably was.

"Alright Benger, where's this black thing?"

"Just past belch the crossroads."

I moved closer to the edge of the rampart and squinted. An arrow whizzed by on my left, presumably on its journey into a wolf's haunch. I didn't have to look very hard. Less than 80 paces in front of the gates was a... woman? A young woman... Except she was swathed in black metal. She stood there motionless and for a moment I was sure she'd been cursed. There was some strange energy radiating from her being that called out to me but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"How long has she been standing there?"

"hic, oh iunno. She jogged up when I finished that bottle o'er there... *sniff* an' i'm about uh..." Benger swished the contents of his bottle about, squinting as he did so, "...quarter through with this one... so burp not too long."

"So she can move?"

"I guess. Hey, how you know that thing is a girl?"

I chose not to answer. He didn't seem to notice.

"Aren't you supposed to be on alert? How do you know that thing is harmless?"

"Eh, if it were going to do something it'd have dunnit."

And then it did.

Instinct brought my bow into place and an arrow was already finding its way out of my quiver. To his credit, Benger, in all his drunken haze, had already loosed an arrow toward the girl, who had started to run toward the fort. Had she been waiting for the clash with the wolves to finish?

I drew my arrow but hesitated. She was unarmed. Incoherent yelling poisoned the air as the bigger bodies poured out of the gates toward the figure, swords and axes in hand and ready to maim. I silently cursed the "shoot first, think later" mentality of my peers and found myself thankful that the combination of booze and drugs compromised Benger's aim.

As quickly as the figure had approached, it turned around to flee in the direction of Whiterun. I lowered my bow.

"What happened?! What did I mis- By the divines! WHAT IS THAT SMELL! BENGER?!"

I whipped about to Falstad's voice, reaching out to steady him lest he fell. "It was the black thing... I think it was a girl."

"That's racist."

"No, I mean... I don't know. I think it was a girl covered in like... metal or something... but she could move around..."

"Woah, you mean that thing?"

I turned to the direction he was staring at. Sure enough, the girl had turned back, but she wasn't running toward us, she seemed to be travelling south west, away from the city.

The stretch of Falstad's bow drew my attention, but before I could react, the arrow was loosed... only to land several feet past the fort's gates. Falstad reeled over, hands on his knees, and he let loose the sweet roll he'd just eaten all over the rampart floor.

"Aw come on, man!"

Falstad turned to Benger, as he wiped his face with his sleeve. "You're cleaning that one."

Their conversation, like all conversations among our raid, devolved into mindless arguing. Arguing that I'd learned to tune out. I watched as the strange girl sprinted off into the distance, the glint of her obsidian skin sending bright flashes my way as it caught the sun.

Somehow I knew that I hadn't seen the last of her.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Falstad half-dragged me on to the ladder as the old man continued to release caustic spit in our general direction.

"I guess you've got something to write about now, haven't you?"

Words began to form in my head - how would I capture the moment in writing? How could I do justice to the weirdness of it all?

"When you tell people about it," Falstad began, "make sure you add that Benger's mother was a Skeever. Make sure you tell them it was all his fault. The chief will side with us anyway."

I indulged myself in a quiet sigh. Weren't you the one who reminded me no one here can read?

Maybe Winterhold isn't as far as I'd convinced myself it was.
I suddenly realized I'd forgotten to submit this piece /: I thought I had, but it was just kept in my stash for some reason... Anyway, it's flavor for Chapter 1 - about 16 minutes in.
© 2015 - 2024 lonelyzentai
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Headzor's avatar
"That's Racist" lol love it. awesome PoV with the bandits!