The Dead Speak Clearly

4E 201 | Mid Hearthfire | Day 9 in Skyrim

Halldir fought like a mage who had spent centuries resenting death.

Fire crossed the chamber in intersecting lines. Ice climbed pillars. Lightning struck wherever Tsukihana's foot had been a heartbeat earlier. His illusions moved independently, each laughing with the same dry voice.

She was cut twice and burned once before recognizing the flaw.

Only one Halldir cast a shadow.

Tsukihana let a firebolt pass close enough to singe her sleeve, stepped through the confusion, and drove the katana beneath the real draugr's ribs.

Third Moon: Waning Reflection.

The illusions shattered.

Halldir looked down at the blade. "Perhaps the dead have lingered long enough."

He collapsed into dust.

Runil's journal waited in an iron-bound chest behind the throne. Tsukihana rested only long enough to bind her cuts and drink half a healing potion. By afternoon she returned to the road, carrying the journal and the bounty notice.

The mine stood within a fortified outpost larger than the notice suggested. Watchtowers, barricades, and patrols protected the entrance. There were enough bandits to hold a small fort.

Tsukihana watched from the tree line until sunset.

Patrol routes repeated. An archer drank at the same barrel every quarter hour. Two guards argued near the rear fence. One section of palisade disappeared into shadow beneath a rock shelf.

At full dark, the ronin entered the camp.

Bodies vanished into brush. Throats opened beneath covered mouths. A guard turned toward a sound and found only an empty road before steel touched the base of his skull.

Tsukihana reached the mine without raising the alarm.

Inside, the tunnels were strangely empty.

A man's voice echoed from a larger chamber ahead.

"You should feel honored. Most people don't survive long enough for conversation."

Through a crack in the rock, Tsukihana saw the bandit chief standing before an iron cage. Inside sat a woman wearing a white fox mask decorated with floral patterns along one cheek. She did not look frightened.

She looked bored.

Tsukihana shifted closer.

The chief smiled without turning. "Pretty rude to eavesdrop."

He lifted a war axe.

The fight shook dust from the mine ceiling. The chief was stronger than the notice had warned and clever enough to use the supports and narrow tracks against her. Tsukihana's lighter armor saved her from one glancing blow. Patience saved her from the next.

When his left shoulder dipped, she entered the opening.

Second Moon: Falling Blossom.

The chief fell.

Tsukihana unlocked the cage with a key from his belt. Nearby chests held potions, scrolls, enough gold to feed a garrison, and a tome describing a frost enchantment for weapons.

She offered the masked woman a hand.

"It is safe now."

The woman accepted with graceful amusement. "The rescue was unnecessary, but appreciated all the same."

Outside, moonlight revealed a massacre.

Every bandit left in the camp had been torn apart.

A man wearing a plain wooden mask sat on a fallen log among the dead. He nodded toward the woman.

"You do enjoy playing with your food. Shall I leave this one to you?"

The woman stretched as if waking from a nap.

Tsukihana drew her sword.

"Who are you?"

The fox mask turned toward her.

"Someone your master once failed to kill."