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[PR: Ash]

“To what end are we doing this for, Golden eye?” Flynn asked. “So Jon can die?”

“Ah, he won’t die. He spoke his mind like a man, and he might come out of this with a woman in his arms too. And the clans will finally realize how serious the dragon attack is.” Roy didn’t tell anyone he killed the Thalmor and made it look like a dragon attack. He rubbed his knees and looked at the keep gate. The Grey-Manes were flooding back into the keep, looking at ease and a little tense at the same time. “Come. Time to reap our rewards.”

***

A group of people stood around the bonfire of the Grey-Mane residence. Fralia was holding Thorald’s hand, looking at the trio gratefully. “The one who saved my child was a dragon, but your news proved to be true.”

“We are a family of our word. From now on, for a year, the Skyforge will be reopened for the keep, and its soldiers will be supplied with its finest creations.” Eorlund held his beard and spoke solemnly. The Skyforge belonged to The Companions, and anything that came from its forge was solely for The Companions. However, he was the keeper of the forge, and it was possible for him to open the forge for the public for a year. “But on one condition. The Jarl must know of this. Anything made in the Skyforge is solely for the purpose of defeating the dragon. The soldiers must not use them against Nordlings, understood?”

“Yes.”

Flynn rubbed his hands together, anticipation flaring in his eyes. “Revered Fralia, may we have our reward now? Our own weapon or armor, if I recall.”

Fralia froze for a moment, and she was reluctant to give the Dragonborn his reward. Now that she thought of it, these people didn’t do much in this whole ordeal. Even without them, Jon would’ve still brought Thorald back.

However, Eorlund thumped his chest. “Just tell me what you want. Aside from ebony and glass items, I can make anything for you.”

The trio exchanged a look and whispered among themselves. In the end, Flynn went with a steel sword, while Arvel requested for a pair of steel daggers. Roy asked for a set of steel armor. Since the cost for that was considerably higher than weapons, he forked two hundred coins out of his own pocket, but he didn’t mind. Good weapons and armor meant survival for adventurers.

Eorlund checked Flynn and Arvel’s dominant hand and took Roy’s measurements. “Come back in a week.”

“Ah, we still have a request, if you may.” Arvel said, “We heard that The Companions are all powerful warriors. If they can help the keep with the—”

Eorlund shook his head. “The Companions are independent of the keep. Not even Balgruuf can command them. I am but a blacksmith they hired, so I can’t convince them to help either. You’ll have to go to the mead hall in the east of the garden if you wish to talk to them.”

The trio nodded. “We wish Thorald a speedy recovery.”

They bowed and left the residence, then they came to the Battle-Born residence. Olfrid looked calm on the surface, but there was fury flaring in his eyes. He obviously was sullen, but since the Grey-Manes had agreed to help with the attack, he had no choice but to uphold his promise as well.

After seeing the dragon’s attack on Thalmor, Olfrid’s mind changed a little. The dragon attack was closer than he’d liked. If that monster had attacked his farms, they would lose a lot more than a few people. Perhaps the lads are right. It’s time to plan ahead. He promised he would send a small army to help out the next day.

***

Once the trio gained the clans’ promise to help, they returned to Balgruuf and reported their success. Overjoyed, the Jarl commended them and promised a reward after the crisis was over. Roy then sought out Farengar and spent six hundred coins to buy a few spellbooks. One was Conjure Flame Atronach, one was Burning Hand, and the last was Healing.

To his dismay, after he absorbed the three spellbooks, he realized he only had affinity for Conjuration spells. The Destruction and Restoration spells did not respond to his summons. The Conjuration rune in his consciousness changed a little. A second string of numbers appeared on the burning door. It was a different rune from Conjure Familiar. Must be some kind of waypoint in Oblivion.

‘Conjure Flame Atronach:

Costs 100 Mana and 10 EXP. Summons a Flame Atronach from Oblivion that can assist you in combat. The atronach can remain in this plane for 5 minutes. The higher the skill level is, the longer the atronach can stay, and the lower the Mana cost is.’

***

Their business done for the day, the trio returned to The Bannered Man and retired for the night. Before dawn broke, Flynn and Arvel were already practicing their swordsmanship. Roy left the keep to try out his new Conjuration spell.

Roy imagined the atronach to be something like a ball of flames or something akin to the ifrit he had seen, but no. It was a beautiful creature with the body of a female, but it was covered in flames and sulfur. The atronach had about the same HP as a regular human, but it stood on a cloud of flames, gliding around in midair like a phantom. Roy thought the atronach was slow, however.

The creature had barely any defense at all, and she was weaker than most spellcasters. She didn’t seem too gifted in the intelligence department either. All it could do was follow some simple orders. And even though the creature was immune to fire damage, it was more susceptible to cold damage. Yeah, probably on the lowest rung of the hierarchy.

The creature only knew one offense skill: Fireball, and it was worse than Furyfire. But she had her own edge. She could cast her Fireball once every three to four seconds, and it traveled further than Furyfire could. Not to mention her Mana seemed to be infinite. She could fire off Fireballs until her time was up. She’s a great ranged attacker, and she can be more useful than the familiar in some cases.

If the atronach and his clone (equipped with a crossbow) were to work together and fire off at an enemy, even a witcher grandmaster would have to be wary.

The atronach had a passive skill as well, and it was akin to the one the clone summoned by an empowered Clamp had. The moment the creature was destroyed, it would explode and create a big ball of flame, turning most enemies near her into ash. She was the complete opposite of his clone, and Roy noticed something important when he was casting the spell.

The soul gems he had could act as replacement for the EXP cost. A lesser soul gem had about 100 EXP in it, providing Roy with enough resources to cast 20 Conjure Familiars or 10 Conjure Flame Atronachs. I have three lesser soul gems. If I cast Conjuration spells twenty times every day, I can level Conjuration up after a while.

***

After their morning practice, the trio walked along the edge of the garden, planning to pay The Companions a visit, but then a certain couple came asking them for help.

Jon was unkempt, and he had a worried look on his face. “Goldeneye, Arvel, Flynn, you have to help us!” he pleaded.

“You risked your life to save Thorald, and the Grey-Manes still won’t accept you? You can see Olfina now, can’t you?” Flynn stared at the couple’s hands that were tightly intertwined. He was envious, for his dream of love was just crushed earlier.

A worried Jon said, “Olfrid only gave me a day. He’ll separate us again tomorrow, but I know you’ve helped me once.”

Roy smiled. I changed his memories with Axii, though.

“I can’t remember what you did for me, but my gut tells me that you’re the reason I gained the courage to go after the Thalmor.” Jon pleaded, “Please, can you help us again?”

“Please!” The silver-haired Olfina held her hands before her chest. “I’ll give you all my coins and valuables as long as I can be with Jon.”

“Reward aside, I think you can just take it one step further now that you’re in this predicament.” Arvel crossed his arms. “I say you elope. Leave the keep and settle somewhere else. You can be happy that way too.”

Olfina looked horrified, and she nervously said, “My clan’s people are always guarding the gates. We can’t leave without them finding out, and… and I don’t want to take the path of betrayal for this. I want my family to bless our union, or it won’t be complete.”

“Well, this is a dilemma indeed, lady.” Flynn said, “You guys know how at odds your families are. Unless the feud between the empire and the Stormcloaks comes to an end, the differences can never be bridged.”

“There is a way.” Roy looked at the poor couple, and he was reminded of a familiar scene. I have an idea. “But how much do you love each other?”

Jon and Olfina held their hands tightly, staring into each other’s eyes, and they spoke at the same time.

“If I can’t be with her, I’d rather die.”

“If I can’t be with him, I’d rather die.”

“Good. The only way to bridge the differences between your family is death.” Roy smiled mysteriously. “Now, tell me, will you die for your lover?”

“Sorry?”

“Will you give up your life and your family’s honor for your love?”

***

“Fralia, this is bad!” Avulstein charged into his mother’s bedchamber.

“Avulstein, you’re nearly thirty years old. Stop acting like a child.” Fralia shot her son a dirty look, then she blew on the stew and fed it to Thorald. “Your brother needs his rest!”

“And my sister’s in trouble!”

“What?”

“Olfina’s dead!” Avulstein’s eyes were filled with tears. “Her body’s in Arkay’s Temple. You… you should see her while you still can.”

The bowl fell to the ground and broke into pieces, the shards cutting through Fralia’s calves, and the stew drenched the hem of her dress, but she felt nothing. Her face was pale as a tombstone, and her lips trembled, then she fell ahead. “My girl! Quick, take me to her!”

***

Hurried footsteps approached the Battle-Born residence, and Idolaf strode into the yard, looking sorrowful. “Olfrid, it’s Jon. Something happened to him.”

“Bah, what now?” Olfrid’s eyes were flaring with rage, and he gritted his teeth. “One more toe out of line and I’m sending him to Sovngarde myself!”

“Shut it, Olfrid. It’s your incessant yelling that made him like this.”

“You won’t have to do that, Olfrid. He’s already in Sovngarde.” Idolaf was reminded of his brother again, and he teared up. “He’s no longer with us.”

“What?”

***

It was a special period for Whiterun. The day before, groups from the most powerful clans in the keep charged into the wilds, and even the Jarl was notified of this. And then, the heads of the clans led their clansmen into the Hall of the Dead. It was located on the west side of the garden under Dragonsreach. The hall was an underground chamber housing dozens of rickety wooden racks, and it was overseen by a priest of Arkay. This was the first stop of every deceased being in Whiterun. Arkay’s believers would guide their souls into the afterlife so they could start anew.

***

Candlelights shone upon the faces of the weary and bereaved, and the air was filled with shrieks and cries of sorrow.

“Jon… Why? Why did you do this?” Bergritte touched her son’s cold, lifeless face with her calloused hand. He looked peaceful, and he almost looked like he was asleep, though he wasn’t breathing at all. He was holding the hand of his lover, and a ring adorned their fingertips.

“No, Olfina! Why?” Fralia was sobbing and shivering. Even the weakest gust of wind could topple her. “Right after we saved your brother! Why did you leave us?”

***

“Enough. We can’t bring back the dead. There’s no use crying.” Olfrid looked at his son’s corpse, his eyes filled with fury and a hint of sorrow. He couldn’t understand why his son wanted to torment him, and he waved his arm dismissively. “He left a letter, didn’t he? Read it, Idolaf.”

“Olfina left one too!” Avulstein shouted.

“Then read it together!” Eorlund closed his eyes, and his lips trembled.

The letters were written in exactly the same way, and the only things that differed were the names and some small details.

‘To my dearest clansmen, I’ve lived my whole life with Jon, and we’ve made a promise of union with each other. It is a promise we would never break. If it weren’t for the political differences wedged between us after Ulfric’s defection, we could’ve had our own children now. But our differences stand between us like an insurmountable mountain, keeping us forever separated.

Do you know how it feels to see your lover standing before your very eyes, without being able to even touch him? You see him every time you leave the house, and yet you can’t even smile at him, or the family and the people of the keep would drown us with their admonishment.

We had no choice but to hide in the shadows like a pair of despicable mice, hoping and praying that the light would one day shine on us. No, we’re less than that. We live in agony every day, hoping we could be with our lover, but that was never to be. This torture is worse than death itself.

I numbed myself with the endless chores, but yesterday, our hearts finally woke from the illusion they gave themselves into, and no longer could they accept this falsehood as truth. My heart told me that Jon is the one I will spend my life with. If that is not to be, then death is our only reprieve.

And thus, we came to a decision. We shall be together forever. We’ve taken the oath, and not even death can do us part now. My clansmen, I have but one final wish: please, give us your blessing, and bury us in the same coffin.

We couldn’t be together in life, but we can rest together in death.’

***

There was nothing but sorrow and silence lingering in the air. Eventually, Fralia broke into a cry again. “Y-You wouldn’t believe me, my girl? Please, wake up. Please, just tell me you wish to marry Jon, and I’ll bless it, I promise!”

“Damn the political infighting! Damn it all!” Eorlund was furious, and he slammed his fist into the wall, but his skin cracked, and blood trickled from his fingers. “What has it given us? Hatred, pain, and now death! It’s pathetic!” Eorlund touched his daughter’s last smile, staring at the man who used to be his closest friend. “We’re all fools, Olfrid. The children should never have been involved in this inane bickering! They’ve taken their own lives, and Sovngarde shall never open its gates for them!”

“Your family prides itself on honor and values.” Olfrid looked at his son and shook his head. The world around him spun for a moment. “Would you really let your daughter marry a supporter of the empire?”

The Grey-Manes couldn’t argue with that.

“Too late for regrets, people. You could’ve said yes to their request when they were alive, but we can’t do anything now.”

“Yes, we can. We can still bless them.” Idolaf looked around. “Not even a demon would separate two lovers, and yet we did something not even evil incarnate would do. We can never turn time back, but we can honor their last wish.” Idolaf looked around, and he saw the guilt glinting in everyone’s eyes, though they wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Or do you want to keep this mistake up even though someone has taken their own lives and paid the price?”

Everyone took deep breaths, and a pregnant pause hung in the air. The only sound filling the silence were the sobs of the bereaved. The heads of both clans stared at each other, then Olfrid, Eorlund, and their families kissed the cheeks of Olfina and Jon, blessing their marriage.

“My son, you’ve betrayed the family and its honor. You’re a coward and a deserter.” There was no hint of arrogance on Olfrid’s face, though it was contorted with pain and sorrow. “But you are my son. Since the burden of the clan is too heavy for you to bear, then you are hereby no longer a part of the clan. If there’s a next life, I hope you can be together with Olfina. You have my blessing.”

“My girl, the Nine Divines shall bless you. I wish for your love to bloom and blossom in a more peaceful land.”

“Jon, please, please wake up. You can marry whoever you want, but please just wake up!”

“Olfina…”

Everyone was blessing the couple, and then some among the crowd whistled. Three long whistles, and two short whistles. It was desecration, but then the couple lying on the stone bed blinked, and their fingers trembled. Their hearts started to beat, and stronger and stronger did their heartbeats become. Color returned to their faces, and life came rushing back into their lifeless bodies.

Olfina and Jon sat up, and everyone took a collective step back like they’d seen a ghost.

“The dead came back to life! It’s a demon! A demon!” One Battle-Born boy cried out of fear, and he held his mother’s leg tightly.

Olfrid and Eorlund’s eyes went wide, and they stopped breathing for a moment. Everyone’s eyes were set on the revived lovers, then they saw smiles curling Jon and Olfian’s lips, tears glistening in their eyes.

“Thank you for your blessing. Thank you.” Jon looked at everyone, his voice weak. It was almost lifeless, but there was hope lying within it. “There’s nothing more Olfina and I can ask for.”

“By the Divines, y-you’re alive? How?” Jon and Olfina’s mothers quickly went ahead and checked on their children.

“You little gits. You faked your deaths, didn’t you?” Olfrid clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth, but there was a relieved smile on his lips.

Olfina smiled gently. “It is all Talos’ decree. He taught us the meaning of love and family in death. Now that we’ve returned from the land of the dead, I do hope you won’t separate us again. You made an oath in front of the Divines, as I recall.”

The clan heads exchanged a look, then they sighed and nodded. “Alright, get down from there. We can talk this through.”