“Patience”, Part 11

In its place was a humid, reeking swamp, and the pitch black darkness of a night with no stars or moon. He could hear the thrumming, rolling and receding sounds of the distant surf and the shrill shrieks of birds calling to each other above the tangled canopy. There were crickets and crabs and animals such as he hadn’t ever glimpsed before, and all of them moved like death gray silhouettes through an impenetrably dense fog.

There was an Argonian male crouched by a pool of discolored water, holding a spear in one scaly hand. He was hunting.

Memories came flooding back to him so swiftly that he jolted out of that blissful place between wakefulness and sleep. Only then did he realize that he couldn’t move. His thin wrists were bound, as were his ankles. Something leathery was thrust into his mouth to keep him from crying out. His head was bent back at an awkward angle. Panic filled him, and he thrashed violently on the filthy floor of the swamp. His movements startled the lizard man. The creature turned his head sharply in ‘Rilo’s direction, then rushed over to him in equal panic to try and still him.

“Stop!” he pleaded in a reptilian, hissing voice, catching the back of ‘Rilo’s head before he gashed it open on a jagged rock. “Stop, you must stop, you must stop!”

‘Rilo just uttered as much of a scream as he could through his leather bindings, twisting in terror to get his gray, bared throat out of range of his captor’s intimidating, pronged fangs. He couldn’t help it—he started crying, and that caused the Argonian to leap back and begin pacing, worrying his nails with his teeth.

“I cannot do this, I cannot do this, it won’t stop crying, Honor-That-She-Seeks never told me that they cried, why does it cry, why does it cry, why does it—”

‘Rilo tilted his head at just the right angle to get the leather gag out of his mouth. He gasped loudly, sucked in a breath of air that tasted of the swamp, then screamed out:

“Gold Man, help me!”

The Argonian took a staggered step, quivered, then knelt beside ‘Rilo with a confused expression on his face. ‘Rilo shied away from him, shaking in fright and praying for his life. “Here…” the creature began shakily, reaching out for the bindings on ‘Rilo’s wrists. “Here, now…no more screams, and I take them off, yes?” He looked hopeful. “Yes?”

“Why did you take me!” ‘Rilo shouted back, mindless of the request. He thought back to Shae, floating away from him down the Meros. He flinched. Tears stung his eyes. Stupid Shae… stupid…

“Because I must!” the creature insisted, his dismay evident. Again, he reached for the bindings, and without hesitation, ‘Rilo moved away. “I must take you, I must, Vermillio does not understand—”

“Don’t talk about my father!” the boy shouted back in outrage. His fists clenched. “You don’t know anything about my papa!”

“No, sir, no!” the Argonian persisted, and this time when he reached for ‘Rilo’s wrists, he grasped them firmly, and the boy could not twist away. His expression was pleading. “Silent-Shadow does not speak of Vermillio’s papa—Silent-Shadow speaks of you! You do not understand!”

‘Rilo’s expression was blank and without comprehension. He stared up at the scaled, reptilian face, and felt nothing but terrified wonder, and the vain wish to reach out and strike his captor with something sharp. Then, still crying silent tears, he begged, weeping, “What don’t I understand?”

Silent-Shadow took a steadying breath and removed his short sword from his hip; it was crusted with something, and ‘Rilo grew sick with nausea as he recognized it. The Argonian brought the blade to the bindings on ‘Rilo’s wrists and begin to saw through, speaking shakily as he did so. “You must go to Honor-That-She-Seeks, and he will explain. Silent-Shadow cannot explain. Silent-Shadow does not know, but he understands.”

(to be continued)

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(This fanfic is a work in progress and is based on source material found in the Elder Scrolls games.)

Click here to view Part 1.