Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to TES. Bethesda does.

Chapter 7: Remembrance

We descended into the bowels of Bleak Falls Barrow. Light was scarce. Glowing mushrooms sprouted from fissures in the cave walls, creating an eerie ambiance. Bret continued to cast candlelight, allowing us to see more clearly in the dim conditions.

"What is this place?" whispered Bret.

We entered a nest. The foul smell of rotting flesh permeated my nostrils. With my enhanced sense of smell, it was difficult not to gag from the putrid odor. Silky carpets of spiderwebs blanketed the stone walls and ceiling. Large egg sacs were stacked in the corners of the cavern and mummified human and skeever carcasses littered the sticky floor.

This was not a happy place.

A pained groan came from the far side of the cavern. I could see a man hanging from the wall, cocooned in thick spider silk.

"There's someone over there," said Bret.

I took a step forward before Fang started barking uncontrollably, warning me not to go further. A loud screech echoed through the cavern, causing my heart rate to jump.

Two large spiders dropped from burrows hidden in the ceiling and onto the ground before us. The spiders' fangs snapped as they approached, eager and hungry. One spider lunged at me, fangs ready to strike. I ducked low to the ground, the spider sailing over me. I jammed my dagger upward and into its body, slicing deep from thorax to abdomen, spilling its innards and organs. The spider crashed into the wall behind me, making a sickening thud then slid to the ground. One spider down.

Bret lobbed firebolts at the second spider until it succumbed to the flames. The spider sizzled and popped as the fire engulfed it, leaving an ashen husk. And two spiders down.

"Hurry, cut me down," wailed the man hung up on the wall.

We got halfway into the cave before the mother of all spiders dropped in front of us. This one was easily ten times bigger than the smaller two. I quickly grabbed my bow and launched arrows at it. It continued to advance towards me, its eight eyes lusting, hungry for fresh food. The arrows did little to slow down the spider.

"Hey, a little help here, Bret," I shouted, releasing another arrow, striking one of the spider's eight eyes. The spider screeched and recoiled.

Bret summoned a fireball, the orange and red flames dancing between his open palms, growing in intensity.

The spider crouched low to the ground, readying to pounce. Saliva and poison dripped from its massive fangs. As the spider sprang forward, Bret released the spell, trapping the arachnid in a vortex of scorching fire. The creature writhed and shrieked as the flames consumed it. It reared back on its hind legs in an attempt for one last attack. I notched an arrow and released, the arrow striking the spider in the heart. The spider crumpled forward, motionless, lifeless. Dead.

We approached the man hanging on the far wall. It was a Dunmer.

"Are you Arvel?" I asked, breathing heavily, still catching my breath.

"It's Arvel the Swift," the man responded arrogantly. "And I'd appreciate it of you'd cut me down this instant."

"Hold up. Where's the stolen heirloom? Your fellow-now-dead-comrade claimed you possessed it."

"I'm not going to hand it over to you. It's mine."

"I have no problem taking it from your dead body. The choice is yours."

"Forget it."

I looked back at Bret. "Would you like to help me out with this s'wit?"

"Of course," Bret smiled and cracked his knuckles. He summoned a shock spell and released the electric energy at Arvel. The Dunmer convulsed from the spell, shaking violently as the electric current traveled through his body.

"Alright!" he squealed. "I'll give it to you! Just stop!"

Bret closed his hands, ceasing the spell.

"Before I cut you down, tell me..." I said, crossing my arms. "Why is the claw so damn special? Why steal it?"

"It's a key, you idiot," Arvel panted, still catching his breath from his minor electrocution. "It opens a door deeper in the barrow. It's rumored there's mass treasure and riches in Bleak Falls. If you cut me down...and don't kill me," he raised his voice emphasizing the 'do not kill part.' "I'll share the loot with you."

The words "treasure," "riches," and "loot" perked my interest. I've always enjoyed a good dungeon dive for forgotten riches and artifacts. People pay incredibly well for valuable jewels, weapons and enchanted clothing. I would be insane if I refused this opportunity. I liked my gold.

However, "share" wasn't a word in my everyday vocabulary when it involves someone who stole from an honorable man like Lucan.

Before Arvel could utter another word, I slammed my dagger into his chest, piercing his heart. Arvel screeched in pain, his eyes widened at the sight of the dagger lodged in his chest. I rapidly jerked the dagger out, blood splattering from the wound and sliced his throat, ensuring a quick death. Blood oozed out of Arvel's mouth and throat, his head falling forward as he exhaled a final time.

"Was that even necessary?" asked Bret hysterically.

"Yes." I casually wiped the blood spatter off my face with my hide gauntlet.

I used my dagger to cut through the thick strands of spiderweb, and Arvel tumbled to the ground. I grabbed the leather satchel from around his shoulder and rummaged through it.

"He was willing to hand over the claw, yet you didn't hesitate to kill him anyways," rebuked Bret.

"He stole from Lucan. That's reason enough for his death. And who's not to say he would have attempted to kill us the first opportunity he had. Is it worth the risk?"

There was a slight pause as Bret pondered my words.

I whirled around and faced him, pissed off and angry. "And you said you didn't believe I was a monster! Are you negating your word?"

I don't like people thinking I'm a monster, even though I technically was one. But I'm also human. A human capable of emotions and possessed a soft, somewhat loving heart. But like I said before, that soft side will be my downfall.

"No, I still don't think you're a monster. I just don't understand you."

"Nor should you," I replied coldly as I pulled out an object wrapped in an oil cloth and untied the string. Inside was the golden claw.

I hated to admit I had developed a slight crush on Bret, but that feeling was drop kicked into the fiery pits of Oblivion. That was another one of my Golden Rules: never, ever, under any circumstances, fall in love. I wasn't falling in love with Bret, hell no, but I had to make sure I didn't put myself into a situation where that could occur. Use a man, sure, that's fine. Take what you need and leave him. Easy peasy. But don't fall for him. That was foolish and just asking for trouble. No man would understand me. Well, not anymore. Only Aron understood me and my ways. He was the only living soul, besides my parents, who knew what I was and accepted me for it. Loved me for it.

"Bryn, I..."

"Don't, Bret," I said, holding up my hand to stop him from speaking. "I don't want to hear it. Let's just move on and see what's at the end of the barrow."

We walked through the passageways in silence. I could feel tension radiating from Bret. He was still pissed. I didn't feel bad for being a bitch, but I knew I could have handled the situation a little better.

My defensive instincts kicked in as soon as we entered what appeared to be a massive crypt. Something was not right. Death and the heavy feeling of unrest saturated the stuffy, stagnate air. Fang crouched low to the ground, ready to attack. Whoever or whatever resided in this crypt was angry and did not welcome the living.

"Be ready," I whispered.

Instantly Bret readied a frost spell in each hand and scanned the surrounding rooms for any movement.

Together we cautiously maneuvered through the corridors. This was not just a crypt. This was a crypt labyrinth.

Long-dead humanoid cadavers rested on stone chambers carved into the walls. Their taut, bluish flesh mummified the underlying muscles and tissues, giving them a gruesome zombie-like appearance.

My ears listened intently, trying to pick up the slightest noise.

A clay pot shattered behind us. Bret and I whipped around to see one of the dead creatures step out of its sarcophagus. Its skeletal face grinned, its hollowed eyes glowed an eerie blue as it charged us. Bret released an icicle spell at the creature. The icicle impaled it, frost spreading over its flesh, slowing it down. I began launching arrows as Bret threw another icicle.

The second icicle completely froze the creature. I used this to my advantage as I raced towards it, unsheathed my dagger and slammed the blade into its jugular then into its heart. Black, inky blood oozed from the wounds. The blue light in the sockets faded as I tore the dagger from its body, and the creature fell dead (again) to the dust covered floor.

Behind us we heard two more loud pops and the sound of metal clanging to the ground. We turned to the direction of the noise as two more creatures step out of coffins and another tumbled out of its wall catacomb. All three roared in anger and rushed towards us.

"Aw, shit," I moaned.

I launched arrows at the creatures. These ones were armed with armor and weapons.

"Bret! Ice the bastards!"

Bret didn't hesitate to hurl icicle and frost spells towards the undead monsters. Fang, careful to avoid the spells, tackled one creature, digging his sharp claws into tissue and began tearing apart its flesh. The creature wailed and tried to shove Fang off as the wolf mutilated it with his strong, serrated teeth.

Bret's open palm released a powerful mist of tiny ice particles, encasing an undead in a layer of frozen crystal. I thrusted my blade deep into the heart of the immobile monster. The eyes faded, and it sagged lifelessly to the ground.

The last undead monster blocked Bret's icicle attacks with its iron shield. It growled as it advanced towards me, sword at the ready. It thrusted the blade at me, but I parried the strike with my dagger and shoved the creature away. It stumbled backwards a few feet. Before it could regain its balance, I hurled my dagger at it. The blade struck the creature in its eye socket, penetrating deep into its skull. The shield and sword fell from its hands as it dropped to its knees before collapsing face first. I grabbed its sword off the ground and impaled it in the heart. Now the bastard was dead.

I bent down to retrieve my dagger embedded in its skull.

"What the fetch were those?" I asked, kicking the creature over to get a good look at its hideous face.

"I've never seen undead like these before," replied Bret, bending down and grabbing the iron shield. He smoothed his hand over the shield's grooves and worn engravings, wiping away centuries of dust and cobwebs. "Whatever they were, they're ancient. Long-dead Nordic warriors of some sort. At least we know they're susceptible to magicka. The frost spells seemed to slow them down significantly."

I picked up one of the swords and shield. The sword was still miraculously sharp after centuries of disuse. No sense in leaving a weapon and shield like this behind. Especially since there may be more of those ghastly creatures up ahead.

"This must be the door Arvel was taking about," said Bret running his hand over the sealed, golden door. "Get out the claw, Bryn. Arvel said it was a key."

The door was a puzzle. I fetching hate puzzles.

I pulled out the golden claw from its cloth. Thankfully the claw had the door combination embossed in the palm. After matching the door and claw carvings, I placed the claw into the center panel on the door and twisted. The door groaned as it opened, revealing a narrow tunnel.

"Let's move on," I said and stuffed the claw into my satchel.

The tunnel opened up to an open underground chamber. Green vines draped the mossy, stone walls and giant ferns dotted the moist landscape near a flowing, underground stream. I took in the fresh air. It was nice to finally get out of the stuffy tunnels and rooms of the barrow.

A path led to a raised dais with a chest and a large, stone sarcophagus. Behind it stood a great curved wall and a stone stairway.

"That has to be where the treasure is," I exclaimed happily, pointing towards the chest. Treasure and riches always excited me. Treasure meant gold and gold meant hearty meals, clean inn beds and new clothing. What can I say? I was a woman, after all.

Before we reached the top of the platform, the lid of the sarcophagus slid open and clattered to the stone ground, echoing throughout the cavern. A fierce looking creature clad in ancient Nordic armor, similar to the undead inside the crypt, rose out of the stone coffin and bellowed a thunderous battle cry.

I instantly shot arrows at the creature, but it swatted them away as if they were mere harmless twigs. I charged forward with the shield and sword in hand.

"You know what to do, Bret!" I barked.

Bret nodded and summoned an ice spell in one hand and a fireball in the other and began launching firebolts and icicles at the creature. The spells seemed to slow it down but not significantly enough to immobilize it.

I reached the platform with Fang at my heels and immediately attacked with the sword. The creature easily parried the blow with its own sword, but I quickly counterattacked by bashing the creature in the gut with the iron shield. It stumbled backwards, and Fang dove in for the attack. He bit off a chunk of muscle from the creature's leg and leapt out of the way to avoid its sword. Fury seethed from the creature's eyes.

Uh oh, this was bad.

"FUS!"

A wave if powerful energy emitted from its skeletal mouth, launching me backwards several feet. Air rushed out of my lungs upon impact with the ground, and my head smashed on the stone floor. I struggled to sit up, gasping for air, clutching my dazed head. Bret continued to cast spells from the distance, but the creature continued to advance. I reached for my fallen sword and shield and staggered to my feet. Suddenly a bright crimson symbol appeared on the ground a few feet before the undead warrior.

"Don't move, Bryn!" Bret shouted.

The creature unknowingly stepped on the fire rune and instantly burst into flames. It screeched as it flailed its arms, trying to extinguish the fire. Flesh melted off its limbs and face, revealing bloodied and charred bone.

Distracted by the fire, the creature didn't react in time as I drove the sword into its chest and thrusted upward with all my strength. The sword sawed through layers of bone and tissue until the blade tore all the way through the top of the shoulder, severing its left arm and rendered it useless.

I clenched my teeth and raised my sword to attack again. I swung downward, but the monster parried and riposted, slicing my shield arm and slashing deep into my torso. My shield clanged to the ground. I winced in pain, blood pouring from the gash, but I continued to fight. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I counterattacked, this time striking the creature's sword arm. The sword dropped from its hand, and I attacked again, lunging forward and piercing the creature's gut. I yanked the sword out, jumped and kicked the monster square in the chest, sending it crashing onto its back. Not wasting any time, I slammed the blade into its undead heart and twisted the hilt with ruthless force. Black blood gushed out from the wound as I continued to twist, deeper and deeper, creating a gaping, blood-filled crater into its chest.

The life in the monster's eyes faded, and its head rolled to the side. Finally it was dead...for good.

I released my grip on the sword and dropped to my knees, gasping violently for air, clutching to my injured side in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing from the deep laceration.

Exhaustion washed over me. I needed a healer or I would bleed out. And I needed one now.

Singing. I heard singing. Was I dying?

I heard distant chanting coming from near the wall. I lulled my head to the side in the direction of the eerie, mesmerizing sound.

What on Nirn is that?

On the large, arched wall were words from an ancient, forgotten language etched in the stone. One of the engravings glowed. Blue and white light churned from it, swirling, shining brightly. It called to me. Demanded my attention.

Time seemed to cease. I willed my legs to move, and I shakily stood up. The throbbing pain in my arm and side subsided as I limped towards the wall. Darkness surrounded me the closer I got, the chanting intensifying. The world around me blurred. A mysterious wind rushed around me, whipping my hair loose and blowing it wildly behind me. My eyes blazed bright gold. That single carving beckoned me. Closer. And closer. I only focused on the wall.

I heard shouting behind me. It must have been Bret calling for me. Something grabbed onto my arm and tried to pull me away from the wall. I jerked my arm out of its grasp and continued forward. I didn't care about Bret at that particular moment. Nor anything else for that matter.

I reached for the wall, the carving, the word. Force. I could read the language etched into the wall. The glowing word read "force."

My world spun, thrusting me into a familiar state of consciousness. My body was too weak to handle the energy that flowed from the wall to the depths of my soul.

I've felt this power before. A long forgotten memory flashed through my mind. Me, a young child, using an incredible and ancient power against Hircine. Fire. I used fire. I Shouted fire at Hircine after he killed my mother in front of me. I remembered.

My body shut down, the memory faded, and I welcomed the comforting darkness as it consumed me.

-0-

Thanks for reading!

-LadyLuna83