Across The Pond

by Aurora Aura

Chapter 6: Stendarr's Absence

Miram moved through the streets as quickly as she could without drawing much attention to herself. She hated walking the streets of Senchal alone, but she knew arguing with Ra’Zahmirr would get her nowhere. He might be able to show some small kindness at times but most of the time he was an abrasive man.

Miram was nearing the shore when the sun finally fell beneath the water. She hurried to the ship and reported her captain, Navito.

“You return,” Navito idly noted without looking up from the card game he was playing on deck. “Where is Ra’Zahmirr and the unicorn?”

“He’s finding a place for her to sleep tonight,” Miram explained.

“Very well. Navito- Wins again!” Navito exclaimed as he threw down the cards he had been holding onto the box they had repurposed as a card table, knocking over several empty bottles. Navito greedily pulled the gold coins towards his corner of the box. The other Khajiit groaned but still threw more gold into the center as the cards were distributed again.

“I think I’m going to head to bed now,” Miram said, motioning towards the door that lead below decks. “If there is nothing else, Captain.”

“Navito was actually about to tell you that you looked as if you needed rest.” Navito said, still not looking at Miram. Miram silently marveled at the head Khajiit’s aptitude for situational awareness.

“Thank you, sir,” Miram said as she turned and walked down below decks and swiftly found her bunk. She closed her eyes knowing she was in the one place she could sleep peacefully.

---

Miram was woken by the young Khajiit that rode along as the cabin boy. She slowly rolled out of bed and got to her feet. It took her about 10 minutes before she was actually moving though. Once she was she headed over to the ship’s galley and made a quick breakfast before heading topside to begin the supplies load.

Miram watched the beginning of the sunrise before the unfortunately hungover Navito yelled at her to grab a box and start helping.

“No! Ra’Zahmirr never showed up last night, so why don’t you take care of it, Omurabi!” Shouted Navito at the Khajiit called Omurabi, “take that box and all the boxes in the pile that one came from and put them where the pony was sleeping! Hurry up, we haven’t got all morning.”

Navito had turned his attention to the two Khajiit he had been playing cards the night before with who were now hanging off the side of the ship. Navito began to chew them out for their irresponsibility for getting drunk before a work day if they couldn't handle the hang over. Miram noted Navito’s sour mood and made sure she always looked busy.

As Miram stepped off the boat to grab a box of supplies from the pier she thought she heard a faint splash. But with Navito’s screams she couldn’t be sure.

As Miram stepped back onto the boat she saw what appeared to be a spell fly across the deck and hit one of her hungover shipmates who was currently being yelled at. The Khajiit seemed to get angrier with each passing second after the flash of magic.

Then, out of nowhere, the Khajiit turned and gave the smaller Khajiit a mighty uppercut with his claws fully extended. Navito stopped yelling. He was backing away from the large and angry Khajiit and the smaller one that was now lying motionless on the deck of the ship.

“Omurabi!” Navito called out. “Omurabi bring my sword, you’re closest.” Navito was still backing away from the enraged Khajiit, and when no reply came he called out once more for Omurabi.

“Captain.” One of the deck hands said, pointing just over the side of the boat. “I found Omurabi.”

Miram ran over to see a pool of red in the water with a familiar Khajiit face down in the dark waters. Miram turned away, not wanting to look at it, only to see the lying form of the Khajiit that had been uppercut. From this angle Miram could make out the three long, deep scratches that sliced him from his gut all the way up to his throat. Though the Khajiit’s throat was not slit it was apparent that he would not survive. Only suffer.

Miram looked away again. She turned to watch her Captain standing off against the Khajiit, now with a sword in hand.

“Are you mad?” Demanded Navito.

The large Khajiit answered by moving forward to strike at Navito and while Navito was hung over the large Khajiit’s moves were clumsy. Navito performed a parry, moving the Khajiit’s claws away before bring his sword down and liberating the striking arm of the Khajiit from his elbow.

The Khajiit howled in pain as he backed away and examined the stump where his arm was, then the lump of flesh on the deck.

“Why?” was the only word the escaped his mouth before he fell back and didn’t get back up.

Everyone on the deck had a sword out now, one was even passed to Miram, who was not prepared for any fight. Miram was no soldier, she had hardly used a sword at all in her entire life. But here she was, scimitar in hand.

Navito had just ended the suffering of the Khajiit on the deck and was now trying to get the crew’s attention and it was in that brief moment of confusion that Miram heard a terrible wheezing noise. She turned to see a Khajiit facing away from the group. The back of his cloak slowly soaking all the blood from his fresh puncture wound. Miram screamed.

The Khajiit fell to his knees as he tried to lift his arm to point somewhere but he collapsed before anyone could see where he was trying to point. Navito came over, calling for Zan’Nir, the boats designated doctor, as he did so.

“Zan’Nir does not like the look of this,” Zan’Nir said, rubbing his chin. “He appears to have been stabbed through the lung. He will only feel angony as his lungs slowly fill with his own blood.”

Navito gave a grim nod as he gripped his sword. Navito muttered something that sounded to Miram like an apology before he thrust his sword into him , putting an end to the life of the Khajiit as well as ending his pain. Navito slowly stood up and turned to his crew who had been watching.

“We aren’t alone, fan out and search!” Navito barked as his crew.

The rest of the crew began to wearily peak around the many boxes that littered the deck, knowing any one of them might be concealing whatever evil was doing this. A few Khajiit moved towards the back end of the ship and began opening barrels that weren’t nailed shut. No one saw anything.

Miram had been approached by Zan’Nir who was trying to make sure she was going to be able to use the sword she held in her shaky grasp. The rest of the crew were walking back to report that they hadn’t found anything when one of them asked.

“Hey, where’d the captain go?”

As if on cue the rustling of chains from the side of the ship came as an answer. Everyone ran over to see the source of the noise.

Over the side of the ship was Navito. The chains had been wrapped around his neck like a noose, thought many suspected that hadn’t been what killed him. From the overhead view they almost couldn't make out the fact that his intestines were now halfway hanging from his gut. Almost.

“What in Oblivion is going on here!” Demanded Zan’Nir.

The crew nearly fell overboard as the ship felt a sudden jerk as it surged away from the pier and began full speed towards the shallow and rocky waters that surrounded the island in the center of the inlet they were docked in.

The group ran towards the ship’s steering wheel, seeing that someone had cut the mooring lines along the way. When they got to the steering wheel they saw that one of their shipmate’s swords had been stabbed deeping between the rods of the control wheel, locking it in place.

Several of the remaining crew tried to remove the sword so they could steer away from the incoming crash, but none of them were successful.

Miram and Zan’Nir had gotten in one of the three rowboats and were launching off, none of the other Khajiit joined them, they hadn’t given up yet. Not while whomever was responsible was still on board.

As Miram and Zan’Nir were about to launch the raft they saw a darkened figure leaning against the shadowed side of the main mast.

“That must be our guy,’ one Khajiit said as they walked down onto the main deck and approached the figure, surrounding the intruder.

When they did the noticed it was a Wood Elf who wearing the black and red cloak of the Dark Brotherhood, an ancient guild of assassins. A Wood Elf, who was wearing a terrible grin.

The Elf’s arms began to slowly glow as he moved them about himself. The crew wasted no time and rushed the assassin, swords extended. It was in that instant that a spinning ball of flames danced and leapt into the air, reaching hungrily for anything they could consume to fuel their wrath.

When the orb of fire ceased the deck and mast had caught and the entire boat was in danger of going up in flames. Past the flames Miram could only watch through blurry eyes as the Elf walked towards them, leaving behind several charred corpses.

Zan’Nir cut the ropes holding them in place and began rowing towards the shore. MIram simply sat there, unable to breath or even hear the simplicity of her own heart beat which raced in her chest.

They weren’t very far off shore but in the two minutes it took them to get back the entire boat had run aground on the jagged rocks and what was left above water had burst into the same caliber of flame that the Elf had conjured before.

Zan’Nir had climbed onto the pier first. Miram still watched the boat she had called home burn. After a minute she reached her hand up, taking the extended arm that helped her up. Miram couldn’t see the face but this arm lacked a significant amount of fur.

When she had been pulled up onto the pier she stood face to face with the Wood Elf that has just slaughtered the only family Miram had ever known. She tried to pull away but he had a firm grasp on her arm and he clearly had no intention of letting her walk away from this.

Miram looked around for Zan’Nir, only to find him laying facedown in a pool of his own blood. She darted her eyes back to the thing in front of her terror sinking into every fiber of her being.

“Why?” asked Miram. “Please, you’re going to kill me anyway. I just want to know why!” Miram didn’t want to die but she knew she was out of options. She stopped struggling, about ready to accept her fate once she had an answer to her question.

“What a delightful question,” answered the Elf in a tone that was so sincerely happy it only disturbed Miram. It was the kind of tone a merchant would use to thank a customer. Managing to sound both genuinely cheery and artificial.

“I’d say it was just business but if I’m being completely honest I got more than my fair share of pleasure from this little escapade we had here tonight,” the Wood Elf said in that same, too happy tone.

“Can’t I at least know your name?” asked Miram. “So I know who to curse with my last breath.” Miram had accepted she would die, but by the nine she would find this man in the afterlife if she had anything to say about it.

“Foroch,” the Wood Elf casually answered with a smile. “The name you want to curse is Foroch.”

“I’ll find you Foroch,” Miram spat through her teeth, knowing this was the end. “When you finally get what you deserve I’ll find you in the next world and I will have my vengeance then.” Miram was shaking now, her fight finally coming up now that it was too late.

“There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you will,” Foroch said as he slipping his dagger between Miram’s ribs. Foroch leaned his head next to Miram’s and whispered into her ear, “but you might have wait in line when that day comes.”

Miram hit the cold cobblestone, watching helplessly as the Wood Elf Foroch escaped into the morning mist. Miram turned her head and looked towards the sky to watch the last sunrise she would ever watch. Shortly after the daily spectacle Miram’s vision went dark and she breathed out her last breath.

Author's Note:

If any of you are wondering why this chapter was called "Stendarr's Absence" it's because Stendarr is the god of Justice and the god of Mercy. I'd say there wasn't much of either going on here.

Comments

[treegrowth]

reads last chapter so far.
*gulp*