Shadow

Stumbling slightly, everyone struggled to keep up with my fast pace, failing miserably to run lightly over the Alik'r desert sands. The harsh winds had slapped coarse sand against my companions, Sapphire was weak with exhaustion and was in a terrible condition. To speed us up, I gathered the group around me.

'I'm going to shift into a wolf!' I yelled over the sandstorm. 'Climb onto my back and hold on tight when I lower myself to the ground!'

Chugging down a potion, I pictured scenes of bloody murder in my mind, feeling my inner beast take half control of me. In moments, I had lived through years of mind-shattering pain, twisting and writhing in the sands as I finally transformed into my largest possible form: A mountain of black fur the size of Castle dour stacked on top of the blue palace.

Lowering myself onto the ground, I felt someone scramble up my tail and onto my back, crawling through my thick fur to get to my neck. Soon, four other figures had climbed up my tail and were sitting on my back. Turning, I counted... five figures sitting on my back and... nobody on the ground. Good...

Brynjolf was sitting at the back, a familiar breton seated at the front.

'Vae.' I growled in my horrifically gruesome wolf voice. The oldest Telvanni sister grinned at me.

'Come on, Sharinzah! I'm eating sand here!'

'Hold on, and don't rip any fur out!' I snarled back at them, feeling small hands wrap themselves into my luxurious fur.

After Vae yelled that they were all ready, I bunched my muscles and leaped over a particularly large dune and hit the ground running, bending space and time as I ran, erasing all sand from my passengers and I. Brynjolf had wrapped his hands into my fur too tightly, because I could feel it coming loose. Without another thought, I whacked him hard with my tail, feeling his hands loosen from my fur, and his weight lift off of my back.

Skidding in the sand, I turned and grabbed him by the back of his armour with my razor sharp fangs. Warm blood cascaded into my mouth, telling me I had slashed Bryn's back open as well. With a lot of cursing, Brynjolf spent the rest of the journey dangling from my powerful jaws and dripping blood all over the Alik'r sands.

Another hour and we arrived ten days earlier than what we anticipated, finally breaking free of the wretched sandstorm. Sentinel was quiet enough, a temple was under construction and the marketplace wasn't too busy, considering it was late afternoon. Lucky for me, my lycanthropy only lasted for an hour, and I changed back into my usual self.

Vae, Brynjolf, Cynric, Sapphire and I entered the city, assessing our surroundings carefully. According to the map, there should be a Thieves Guild in Sentinel, a place where we could lie low for a bit as we searched for Mercer, and the Grey Cowl. For a few minuets, we watched the progress of the new temple, huge blocks of stone being hauled into place by enormously muscular Redguards.

Disaster struck when a new column was bumped by a block of stone as it was hoisted up, the column swayed and made it's topmost segment knock against the ropes holding the block that was being hoisted into the air. With a quiet snap the ropes broke, sending the massive block back to the ground, crushing the legs of one of the workers.

Vae rushed forward.

'Vae! No! Come back!' I called after my friend.

The Breton just smiled back at me over her shoulder, kneeling down next to the groaning Redguard and healing him. I ran over to help my friend move the worker, managing to get him halfway across the courtyard before a shadow passed overhead, a massive rectangular shadow. Alarmed, Vae shoved me roughly out of the way as the block of stone fell upon us. I stumbled under the weight of the Redguard, who fell from my grasp and slid down the sand towards Vae.

Too late I realised that I could shout the danger away, it would now take too long. The ground shook violently as the stone collided with the ground, taking my friend and a young man to their graves. Two workers rushed over to move the block, revealing the crushed and lifeless form of Vae Telvanni.

I sank to my knees beside my friend, head bowed and shoulders raised, propping myself up with my hands. Sobs escaped my lips as I grieved for one of my best friends, a daughter, a sister... she was so much more than what I could have ever been. Brynjolf put a soothing hand on my back, which just made me cry harder.

What if it was Brynjolf next? Or Cynric? What was I going to tell Rune if I returned?

'Shhh, Lass come on. You've been here for an hour, crying. I think Sapphire found the guild, and they want to meet you.'

I had been crying for a whole hour? Unsteadily, I stood, scooping Vae's lifeless form into my arms. Who knew dead bretons weighed so much? Stumbling slightly, I followed Brynjolf blindly through the twisting streets of Sentinel. A small rooftop hideout was decorated with slightly grimy, but welcoming and colourful banners, fellow thieves would feel right at home here.

Leading me into a small side room, Brynjolf took Vae's body from me and set it on the floor, helping me retrieve my friend's valuables and prized possessions before burning her body on a funeral pyre. The red headed thief put an arm around my shoulders and squished me against him as a new wave of grief crashed over me, sending me under.

When the last smoke curled into the air, I turned my face to the stars now beginning to shine faintly in the darkening sky. Calling forward the power of Shor to assure my friend's safe passage into Sovungarde, just as I had done for Marcurrio. A golden aura surrounded me, lending me a second sight, showing me all of the deaths I had caused.

Zirishalk, my sister, smiled bitterly at me, poison dripping from her fangs. Ulfric grinned at me, a gaping hole in his chest. Argos, my ex husband, gazed at me with the love I wished he had returned to me, sword wounds marring his body. Vae now stood amongst them, also smiling despite her body being crippled.

I stood, anger bubbling up inside me. I denied the deaths of the ones I once loved and cared for, I was so sick of loss, giving my heart to others, only for it to be twisted and used. But how could I give my heart, if I had no heart left to give? In a blind rage, I unsheathed one of my daggers and cut deeply into my chest, gouging out my own heart, holding it in my hands for a split second before my dragon blood healed the hole in my chest.

Satisfied with this, I impulsively raised the heart in one fist, still seeing the vision of the ones I once cared about. I squeezed my heart in my hand until it burst, screaming. Finally, the vision faded, but somewhere in the room, someone else was dealing with pain.
Brynjolf looked shakily into the eyes of the ghostly dremora in front of him, it whispered something sinister to him, which I caught.

The one who does not care, once cared too much.

A/N: Never mind what I said about feels, I think this chapter is more gross than sad. I can't promise you it'll get better.

~ShadowtheKhajiit

P.S: Word count is: 1291