Skyrim Stories I.
3rd of Heartfire, Tirdas
Finally, there was nothing around us anymore that could have caused a distraction. I felt the trembling breath of the elf almost near me, as my senses have peaked to immeasurable heights. I heard the air snapping into pieces as it tried to exit his airways. His heart missing a beat, then falling into a desperate rumble of excessive pulsation.
It was time to reveal myself. I felt it in my bones, as the adrenaline came rushing through my muscles, eyes locked on the target. On that moment when that drop of sweat has rolled down on the back of his head, and crushed the rocky bottom of the dark cavern, I moved forward.
I elevated my palm quietly and undetected, my wrist for a second, illuminated by the infiltrating light. My fingers, like claws snapped onto the back of his skull, rendering his movement stale; he paused.
Reacting to the foreign body entwining on his upper body, he stood there paralyzed, in sudden, unexpected shock. While I held his head there for a split second, I closed my eyes to feel the heaviness of his skull weighting on my fingers. Everything happened within rushing seconds, and in the next moment I revealed my full form before him, locking him down with a flaring, crimson glowing stare. My eyes bathed in blood leaving behind all forms of diplomacy and mercy. Finally, after what seemed to be decades of rattling through shadow and mud, I stood face to face with my target, and he was defenceless. Cornered. Exposed and served; displayed for a direct assassination. I felt my body change. My mind splitting in half, from the surface to the below. I had to descend there. Where madness is born.
That’s the only place, where killers spawn.
And this moment, was a turning event for the both of us.
‘You found me.’ — he whispered faintly. ‘I thought I lost you.’
His eyes glittered, reflecting back the echoes of darkness that surrounded us in the hooded underground. As frozen he might seemed to be at first, his posture emitted a sense of fearlessness as well.
‘Rebecca…’ — he murmured. The words barely escaped through his pressed lips.
‘It is time to meet the Dread Father. The Brotherhood is waiting…’
While he spoke, my daggers snuck up to his throat silently. The edge of the blade drilled into his skin, awaited a deeper cut.
‘Do not move, elf.’ — I hissed.
The more I narrowed my eyes, the tenser my muscles became, stiffening up to the situation. The blades of my daggers sunk deeper and deeper into the pale elf-skin.
His eyes watered up simultaneously following the movements.
‘I’m so glad you found me.’
Before I noticed what’s happening, a surge of overwhelming sensation overrode my body. My throat suddenly dried out, and I observed a sharp feeling of discomfort overtaking my chest and neck area.
It appeared that I was not the only one feeling a blade against my throat.
The elf’s words cut me asunder.
