Volume V: The Story of Igor
Almost fourteen years ago a promise was born. A promise of wealth, fame, and purpose. But that promise was now thrown in a deep corner deep beneath the ground, along with all the hopes and dreams. Hjalti let go of the bars of his cell and moved over to the side of his cell. There he flopped down with a sigh to the cold ground, his back leaning against the wall.
It seemed like he was sitting there forever already when he heard the low voice of the Dark Elf breaking the silence: "Welcome to my humble abode, Hjalti," Dram greeted him from the cell at the other side of the hall. At least, that's how the boy remembered how the dungeon looked when there was still light. Now he could barely even see his own two hands in front of him which were supporting his head. HIs elbows were leaning on his knees.
After no audible response of Hjalti, the elf continued: "Please, make yourself at home. And don't mind the darkness. Your eyes will get used to it in no time. May I…"
"Will you just shut up?!" Hjalti snapped, and this took Dram by surprise.
"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to lighten the mood," he said genuinely, after a second of silence, "I know it's scary the first time in prison. The first time I was thrown in one was when I was a teenager myself… over 200 years agon, mind you. Let's say I got plenty of time to get used to them in the years between, he he. But I see I have overstayed my welcome with you. So, I'll try to just shut up now."
Hjalti looked up and saw that Dram was right. At least about the eyes getting used to the darkness. He could see a lot more already, although the Elf was still nowhere to be seen.
"No, it's okay. I appreciate what you're doing," Hjalti sighed deeply, "Do you think they're going to kill me?"
"Depends on what you did. Given that I tried to murder the king and I'm still here, I'd say your chances of surviving this are looking good," Dram answered with a nonchalantly tone, "So, what DID you do? I guess it has something to do with that girl. She was the princess, right?"
Hjalti nodded before realizing Dram couldn't see that: "Yes," he responded with another breath of desperation, "I worry about her as well. Will the king punish her?"
"I doubt it. The king is merciful," Dram argued, and he was right. What he and Hjalti didn't know was that a few feet above them, after a few layers of rock, earth and stone, Princess Juelli was escorted to the throne room on the main floor. The light footsteps of her on the marble floor and the heavy ones of the guards clad in armor echoed through the well-lit room where King Tharlon sat on his throne, towering over the room. His face looked grim and concerned, an expression Juelli hadn't seen often by her father.
Next to him was the queen, and looking at how she was dressed, it was clear this meeting was rather informal. Even Tharlon, who just arrived shortly after Juelli was brought before their father, wasn't even dressed in his shining armor. And the vain prince, now leaning against one of the pillars to watch the spectacle, would never slip a moment to show how great he was looking to his father's subjects, yet he too stood there looking less marvelous, to say the least.
Other than the clothes, everything else looked serious. There were plenty of guards, and among them was Igor. Still clad in his armor, he witnessed the whole ordeal. What was discussed there between the king, Parren and Juelli didn't appeal to him in the slightest. Even though King Tharlon was merciful, he feared Hjalti was in grave danger. And he had good reasons for that to believe so.
This troubled him to such an extent, that in the next morning, when everyone was still sound asleep, he gathered a few things and snuck his way into the dungeons. There he found the Breton boy: "Hjalti. Hjalti, wake up," the Nord whispered.
"Huh? What..?" the prisoner opened his eyes. It took some time before he realized where he was and who was standing in front of him at the other side of the bars. When he did, a smile appeared on his face and he said, a bit too loud: "Igor! I am so happy to see you!"
"Ssh!" Igor shushed, "I bring you some news. You must get out of here. It's not safe for you in Alcaire anymore."
"Why? What are you talking about?" Hjalti asked before noticing how serious Igor was. Then he asked: "Is the king going to kill me?"
"No, not him. Last night they decided your fate. King Tharlon actually had decided to let you be released this morning. With heavy influence from Princess Juelli, he agreed that one night in the dungeons was enough punishment for you, so he was willing to let both you and the Princess go with only a warning."
"Okay? That doesn't sound so bad," Hjalti asked confused, "Then why tell me I need to go?"
"Because the king is restoring your place as a page of Parren!" Igor waved around with his hands.
"Don't you see?" Igor continues, "The prince knows about you and the princess. If you stay, you'll be his… his piece of toy to torment. He'll make your life a living hell. You'd wish you never left prison. You think you had it hard with the prince so far? Think again. He will abuse you at every opportunity. And not only verbally. He will make you wish you were dead. And then one day, you get your wish when you suddenly disappear. A hunting accident. Fallen from the cliffs, or a suspicious suicide. You name it."
Hjalti frowned his blue eyes and with a concerned look he asked: "You really think Parren would go that far?"
"I don't just think so, I know it. Trust me."
"Yes, you said that the last time, but from what I've seen, the prince is a dog that barks but doesn't bite," Hjalti argued. He was skeptical and unwilling to run away now that he was close to being released. Besides, things were looking good between him and Juelli!
With downcast eyes, Igor responded: "Yes, but I know the prince longer than you have, for I have known him all my life and I have seen that it isn't good for your health to cross him," he paused a bit before he continued: "Let me ask you a question: Do you really think you're the first personal servant the prince got?"
Hjalti shook his head and looked with a raised eyebrow to his friend, failing to see how this question was relevant for the moment. Then Igor continued, and explained himself by telling a story: "Once there was a well-respected nobleman living with his family in Alcaire. He was a close friend of the king and as reward for his service, his eldest son was chosen as the companion of the king's son. Yes, Parren. All was going well, until one day that son got in an argument over nothing with the prince, and eventually he hit Parren in the face. They were both boys, you see, so it didn't seem that big of a deal. And to the public, nothing seemed to have changed. But for that boy, everything did on that day."
Igor cleared his throat and proceeded with his story: "Parren had never forgiven him, and he used every moment to make it clear to his servant that he hated him. So onne day, the boy managed to get in contact with his father without Parren knowing. The boy showed his father his scars and bruises which Parren had afflicted him with. The boy asked his father to flee and to never look back."
"Alas," Igor continued, "The not so noble nobleman didn't want to listen to his son, and instead he just told him to man up. The nobleman wouldn't let this 'little mischievous pranks of the prince' -as he called it- get in the way of his well-earned position within the court of Alcaire Castle. He didn't believe his son was bullied by the prince or that the latter formed a real threat. Not until it was too late. Not until the scouting party of the prince returned bringing news of his son's demise."
Igor took a deep breath: "Nobody seemed to recall what had happened. When the boy was found several days later in the woods, the body had transformed into a mutilated corpse, eaten away by animals with the limbs all over the place. It was unrecognizable until the head of the boy was found several yards away from the rest. It was clearly cut off. And Parren… Parren was the last who had seen him alive."
Hjalti swallowed, but he wasn't completely convinced yet. However, the story hadn't concluded either, and Igor continued: "According to the prince, he must've had a run-in with some bandits after he had sent the boy to collect some wood. But there were no belongings taken and there hadn't been any bandits sighted in those parts for the last few months, nor in the days after the 'incident'," Igor held his hands in the air to imitate the quote marks, "The nobleman, grieving the loss of his son, saw that all of it didn't add up, so he brought the matter to the king. He told Tharlon in person about his suspicion that Parren was involved in the death and finally addressed the issue of the time that his son showed him the wounds."
"However," Igor carried on, "The king would hear none of it and brushed it aside, but the nobleman couldn't drop it. Enraged by the injustice done to his family and convinced the prince was behind it, he turned the matter to the public by starting to demonstrate in front of the palace. Until the king was forced to remove him to maintain the peace. Thus, he banished the man, but the man alone. In the end, stripped of all his titles and belongings, he left his wife and younger son alone. Nobody knows what has happened to him ever since."
The story of Igor had come to an end. For a moment, Hjalti didn't know how to respond, until he said: "So what makes you so certain that Parren killed him?" Hjalti pointed out while doing his best to not show his hands were shaking, "It's suspicious, I admit that, but it doesn't prove anything. Why believe the old man who made a fool out of himself by demonstrating?"
"Because," Igor answered, "That old man was my father and that boy was my brother. I was only six years old when I lost both of them."
"Oh damn, I'm sorry for your loss," the Dark Elf joined the conversation, "I have been here long enough to pick up stories about Parren as well. I've heard the guards talking from time to time, see, and from what I've got… Well, let's say I don't think this story is that far-fetched."
A cramped feeling of anxiety ambushed Hjalti, pressing down his lungs, making him unable to breathe. It clouded his mind and he was unable to think straight. "Why didn't you tell me this before?!" he snarled to Igor, "You should have warned me!"
"But I did! I just didn't tell you the details," the Nord defended himself before calming down, "It's… it's just not a story I tell lightheartedly. I hope you understand."
Of course Hjalti did understand, but he was too busy worrying about himself to show sympathy for Igor. It took a few seconds before he was back to his senses: "So what should I do? What's the plan?" he asked, and Igor started to explain what he had in mind. After Igor attended the hearing between King Tharlon, Juelli and Parren, he had already made preparations, even before coming here.
A horse was waiting for Hjalti on the outskirts of the city, all packed and loaded. Igor knew the roster of the guard's patrol, so they wouldn't discover the misplaced horse until after noon. So enough time for Hjalti to get away once he was released. Igor doubted they would see the need to escort Hjalti to Parren, so when the opportunity presented itself and no one was around to chase him, Hjalti had to make a run for it. On horseback, he could make it to Wayrest in a few days. This was Igor's idea as well: "You can get lost in the city there. Hide in plain sight. And from there, you can take a boat to Hammerfell," he said.
To get there, Igor had also packed the horse with a purse of gold and a stock of food. He had even brought some food and water for Hjalti now. After almost 24 hours without food, the boy accepted Igor's gift with eagerness. Now, with a slightly fuller belly, he actually had a chance to make the journey to horse without fainting from exhaustion, even before he could make it to Wayrest.
Food and water weren't the only thing Igor brought with him down here, but Hjalti would only discover that sometime later. "Why go to the harbor of Wayrest?" he asked with a mouth full of bread, "Why not go to Koeglin Village? That's closer by."
"Yes, but once you're on the run, they will most likely expect you to go south where the harbor and your home are. But you cannot go home. Do you understand?" Igor emphasized, "You will endanger your family if you visit them."
"Yes, yes, I understand," Hjalti nodded. Really, he didn't understand why Igor thought Hjalti would want to go home. Why would Hjalti jump at the chance to see his family so that he could tell them how he failed miserably?
No, Hjalti agreed to Igor's plan to make it to Wayrest.
"Good," Igor said, "If you follow this plan, we will likely see each other for the last time now. But at least you'll have a life far away from here. Given that we end up in different places of Aetherius after our deaths, I really hope to see you again one day, though," Igor said before gesturing to walk away, but Hjalti called him back: "Wait! I haven't thanked you yet for doing this! You're the closest friend I've ever had."
Igor smiled and gave a small nod before he disappeared. Hjalti still never thanked him, but in his heart he did. Igor was gone not a minute too soon, for not much later, the sounds of approaching footsteps revealed the coming of the guards. Hjalti's heart was pounding like crazy as he saw the same faces from last night, illuminated by torchlight.
"Hjalti of Starfall," one screamed a bit too loud as he grabbed an official document and held it for his nose, "By orders of the grateful King Tharlon the Great of Alcaire, you are hereby released from prison and restored in your duties to the Crown. You are placed again in the custody of Prince Parren…"
The story continued for quite a while, as in the meantime Hjalti tried his best not to look too stressed out. When the letter had finally finished, one entered the cell and dragged Hjalti outside. But they didn't let him go just yet, and this started to worry Hjalti. The whole escape plan was based on the fact they would let him out of sight before he was stuck with Parren again. Should it take too long before Hjalti could elude, chances were the horse would be discovered before he could get there.
As they walked him towards the exist, Hjalti turned around to give Dram a worried glance, right before his face disappeared in the darkness again as the guards with their torches walked away with Hjalti. They escorted him to the stairs to the main level. Were they going to bring him before the king? Was Parren there?
As Hjalti's mind filled itself with all kind of thought, one of the guards spoke to him to give him instructions: "The prince wanted me to tell you he is waiting for you in his room. If I were you, I wouldn't let him wait. Unless you want to come with me again, ha, ha, ha!" he laughed as they let him go.
Well, Hjalt had to disappoint the prince, for he had better plans than to be tortured and killed. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, he went his own way as the guards were gone, though he still felt like he was being watched with every move he made. He barely dared to open the main door, afraid to see Parren waiting on the other side. Or worse. What if he saw Juelli? Beautiful, gorgeous Juelli? How could he look her in the eyes and lie to her? She would most likely hate him for the rest of his life for leaving her! But he valued his own life above the chance of hurting Juelli. So, he opened the door.
There was only a guard on the other side, as expected, yet Hjalti still had to restrain himself from running away. Trying not to act suspicious, Hjalti nodded to the guard with a friendly smile. Still, he glared longer than was comfortable, so the guard gave him a weird look before Hjalti managed to go on his way, calmly.
As he walked, he barely noticed the sound of the roaring clatter of the fountain in front of the palace. All he heard was the beating of his heart from behind his ears and in his throat. He made his way to the pond down the stairs. He was still walking. He passed the several houses and shops that were starting to open. He was still walking. Another set of stairs. He went down again and walked past a few guards going towards the Old Goat Inn. He was still walking. As they were out of sight and Hjalti neared the city gates, some guard came running down, yelling: "A prisoner has escaped! Sound the alarm! Close the gates!" Hjalti was no longer walking.
As fast as the wind, Hjalti ran towards the gates. He found it strange they called him a prisoner. Wasn't he just released? No matter. If he didn't make it outside the city before the gates closed, he was trapped inside and he would indeed be a prisoner again. Then he could as well just start digging his own grave. As he sprinted as fast as he could, he saw there were no guards on this side of the gates, and without trouble he managed to get through it. On the other side, however, guards were there and one of them stopped him: "Oi! Where are you going so fast?"
Hjalti had to think fast. It was unlikely they knew who he was, so he quickly said: "Don't you hear? A prisoner has escaped! While I'm ordered by the prince to check the outskirts around the corner, you should close the gates. Hurry up!"
"O-Of course!" the guard responded while letting Hjalti go on his way. It worked. It actually worked!
And about a minute later, he found the horse, just where Igor had said he was. But the horse was not alone. Someone was holding its reins.
Hjalti stopped breathing for a moment and became a bit dizzy. With Hjalti approaching, the figure turned around to make himself known. It was the Dark Elf. It was Dram!
"Come on, no time to lose!" Dram said to the surprised Hjalti as he was getting into the saddle.
Hjalti, however, didn't move an inch: "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Oh, I'll gladly explain along the road. But for now, how about we get in Oblivion out of here?" Dram said hastily and Hjalti nodded. This was indeed not the time nor the place. With gallantry he jumped on the back of the horse, holding the Dark Elf tight as they latter urged the horse to gallop. He heard someone shouting from behind him, but he didn't dare to look. He didn't want to know how close he was to being caught. In his mind he saw Parren, but before him on the horizon was the green of the forests and the mountainous grasslands, waking from its slumber by the rising sun. Before him, there was more than just green. Before him, there was freedom.
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