The Price of Vengeance- A Skyrim Fanfiction

Seven: A Wind From The East

I was weary and feeling a little lost within as I made my way down to the Bee and the Barb in Riften. It had been two months since I had killed Alduin the World-Eater. Two months since I had returned to Skyrim with my left arm scarred from Alduin's claws and a wary peace residing in me. I didn't know where that feeling was now.

All I felt was melancholy, and a lack of interest in my life. Alduin was dead, and my duty was done. I was free, and I felt absolutely useless. What was left for me to achieve? Every other Jarl wanted my aid in killing dragons and it was after another such encounter that I had ended up in Riften. I was a glorified pest killer now. I had been here for three days and saw no reason to leave. One of the inn's special drinks, the Cliff Racer, was my new favourite.

As I shoved the third one down my throat, I saw a man run in through one door and out the other. He seemed vaguely familiar, but my alcohol clouded mind couldn't make the connection. However, the uniforms of the three men chasing him were too distinguishable for comfort, them having seared themselves into my head when I was a child. I stood up and immediately tripped, managing to catch myself on the back of my chair. Cursing, I cast a healing spell to cure the drunkenness and shaking my head to rid myself of the last traces of the alcohol , I ran after them.

I managed to catch up with the Imperials outside Riften. They had caught the man and in the silvery moonlight, I saw with shock that it was my friend Ralof. His face was covered with bruises and small cuts and his hands were tied behind his back even as the soldiers were laughing as they kicked at him and taunted both his god Talos and the Stormcloaks. After all this time, I finally felt the killing fury anew in my bones. I could shoot them from where I stood but a bow was too... impersonal.

I wanted to see their eyes as they saw me coming for them, relish the fear when they knew they were going to die and there was nothing that they could do about it. I didn't have my armor but who needed protection from these three?

I silently pulled out my short swords and after pulling my hood up, stalked towards them. They still hadn't noticed me, even when I crouched behind them. Ralof's eyes widened at the sight I must have made- a dark hooded apparition with the pale light glinting dully off my blades.

Seeing his expression, they whirled around to face me. I slid my sword neatly between the ribs of one, even as I blocked the thrust of the only one of them who had managed to pull out a dagger. Pushing the first off my blade, I leaped back and viciously slashed at the one with the weapon. He tried to dodge but I was relentless in pursuit, and stabbed him through the neck. He died, gurgling on his own blood. I looked around for the third and froze.

The soldier held a knife against Ralof's throat and though his hand was shaking, he still managed to smile cruelly. "Move any closer, and your friend dies. Now put down your weapons and kneel!" I could see a thin line of red against Ralof's neck and I acquiesced, my blood thundering within me.

The soldier walked towards me, and put his blade at my throat. Pushing down my hood, he looked into my eyes and I saw hate, contempt and condescension in his. His smile widened as he slid his fingers across my cheek. The simmering coals of my rage were now the fires of Oblivion itself.

"What do we have here? A young lady who attacks her betters without cause. Who are you?" I tilted my head and gave him a grin of my own. His expression faltered a bit.

"I'm no one special. A dead man has no friends or enemies, does he?" I hissed and his eyes bulged in shock. I took a deep breath and Shouted.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

A fiery inferno engulfed the man, cooking him alive in his armor. After slitting his throat with his own knife for good measure, I picked up my weapons and ran to Ralof. I sliced through his bonds and I helped him sit up.