"You don't have to explain anything," Joldi said, finally facing him. Erandur's heart lurched with a painful clench when he saw her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. She had definitely been crying. "I understand the heat of battle can affect people, especially right after. I know I was a bit sulky when I first joined the Companions and Vilkas would stomp me to the ground after only two or three hits in front of everyone." She shrugged, trying to play it off. "It's nothing."
"No, it is something!" Erandur insisted. "I want to tell you. I need to tell someone." He paused, feeling like the world's biggest skeever dropping. "If you're willing to listen that is."
"Of course, I want to listen!" Joldi exclaimed. She gave Erandur a big bear hug. "You're one of my dearest friends. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me, I want to know!"
Erandur blushed as he was engulfed in Joldi's embrace. She was almost a head taller than him, so her ample chest was very close to his face. Thankfully, her armor covered her thoroughly. He wiggled in embarrassment.
"Let's clean up the bodies, set up camp, and I'll tell the very sad life story of Casimir, Vaermina devotee and coward," he said sardonically.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as they straightened up the bandit camp. The two of them worked quickly but respectfully as they gathered the corpses and piled them together on one side of the camp's yard. They might have been bandits in life and deserved no mercy for their crimes, but Mara also taught compassion and it would have been disrespectful to leave the bodies to decay and the appetites of scavengers.
Despite the nervous fluttering of his heart, Erandur felt more at peace as he performed Mara's works. Saying prayers over the departed as they lined the bodies next to each other brought him as much peace as when he meditated in the evenings.
There was a warmth at embracing Mara that flooded his body every time he spoke a prayer in her name. It was the same feeling he had when he first accepted her love and chose to become her priest.
Joldi stood reverently next to him as he finished his prayers, the last one dedicated to Arkay, the god of death. Without a word, Joldi set the torch to the first linen wrapped form and walked down the line, setting each one aflame.
Soon the sickening sweet smell of human and elf flesh filled the air, reminding Erandur of some of the worst experiments he had helped perform for Vaermina. He couldn't stop himself from shaking until Joldi placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, let's go set up the tent and make dinner," she said gently as she pulled him close. "If you don't mind, I figured we'd have a simple vegetable stew tonight. I don't have much of an appetite after killing people, and I find the thought of meat after a funeral a bit stomach turning."
Erandur simply nodded before following Joldi to where they had left the horses grazing. The heat of the funeral pyre had left him sweating, but he still felt the bitter cold in his bones as they moved away.
"When I say that Thorek and Veren were my brethren, I don't mean that they were only fellow members in the Vaermina cult," Erandur said. The meal was over and the campfire crackled merrily. The Dark Elf sat as close as he dared to the heat, his arms wrapped around his knees as he stared deeply into the flames. "I was recruited as an acolyte of Vaermina as a young elf. I had no real childhood to speak of... we weren't permitted to socialize. So the only people I grew close to were the other young elf acolytes. In many ways, Thorek and Veren were my adopted brothers too.
"We grew up together, learning all the things young men learn while dedicating ourselves to the daedric prince... and subsequently learning dark rituals that involved very unsavory acts that I won't go into detail about here." Erandur closed his eyes as he sighed heavily. "I've done a lot of... questionable things in my life. Serving Vaermina was a horrible mistake, and I hope Mara will forgive me one day."
Waking Regrets 4/?
"You don't have to explain anything," Joldi said, finally facing him. Erandur's heart lurched with a painful clench when he saw her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. She had definitely been crying. "I understand the heat of battle can affect people, especially right after. I know I was a bit sulky when I first joined the Companions and Vilkas would stomp me to the ground after only two or three hits in front of everyone." She shrugged, trying to play it off. "It's nothing."
"No, it is something!" Erandur insisted. "I want to tell you. I need to tell someone." He paused, feeling like the world's biggest skeever dropping. "If you're willing to listen that is."
"Of course, I want to listen!" Joldi exclaimed. She gave Erandur a big bear hug. "You're one of my dearest friends. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me, I want to know!"
Erandur blushed as he was engulfed in Joldi's embrace. She was almost a head taller than him, so her ample chest was very close to his face. Thankfully, her armor covered her thoroughly. He wiggled in embarrassment.
"Let's clean up the bodies, set up camp, and I'll tell the very sad life story of Casimir, Vaermina devotee and coward," he said sardonically.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as they straightened up the bandit camp. The two of them worked quickly but respectfully as they gathered the corpses and piled them together on one side of the camp's yard. They might have been bandits in life and deserved no mercy for their crimes, but Mara also taught compassion and it would have been disrespectful to leave the bodies to decay and the appetites of scavengers.
Despite the nervous fluttering of his heart, Erandur felt more at peace as he performed Mara's works. Saying prayers over the departed as they lined the bodies next to each other brought him as much peace as when he meditated in the evenings.
There was a warmth at embracing Mara that flooded his body every time he spoke a prayer in her name. It was the same feeling he had when he first accepted her love and chose to become her priest.
Joldi stood reverently next to him as he finished his prayers, the last one dedicated to Arkay, the god of death. Without a word, Joldi set the torch to the first linen wrapped form and walked down the line, setting each one aflame.
Soon the sickening sweet smell of human and elf flesh filled the air, reminding Erandur of some of the worst experiments he had helped perform for Vaermina. He couldn't stop himself from shaking until Joldi placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, let's go set up the tent and make dinner," she said gently as she pulled him close. "If you don't mind, I figured we'd have a simple vegetable stew tonight. I don't have much of an appetite after killing people, and I find the thought of meat after a funeral a bit stomach turning."
Erandur simply nodded before following Joldi to where they had left the horses grazing. The heat of the funeral pyre had left him sweating, but he still felt the bitter cold in his bones as they moved away.
"When I say that Thorek and Veren were my brethren, I don't mean that they were only fellow members in the Vaermina cult," Erandur said. The meal was over and the campfire crackled merrily. The Dark Elf sat as close as he dared to the heat, his arms wrapped around his knees as he stared deeply into the flames. "I was recruited as an acolyte of Vaermina as a young elf. I had no real childhood to speak of... we weren't permitted to socialize. So the only people I grew close to were the other young elf acolytes. In many ways, Thorek and Veren were my adopted brothers too.
"We grew up together, learning all the things young men learn while dedicating ourselves to the daedric prince... and subsequently learning dark rituals that involved very unsavory acts that I won't go into detail about here." Erandur closed his eyes as he sighed heavily. "I've done a lot of... questionable things in my life. Serving Vaermina was a horrible mistake, and I hope Mara will forgive me one day."