We made it back to Rorikstead ahead of the rest of the townsfolk. Without a word, we headed straight for the Frostfruit Inn.
As we stepped inside, Esbern raised two fingers toward Erik—Mralki's son—who was cleaning tankards behind the bar. Erik nodded, already heading for the barrel of mead.
We slumped into chairs at a quiet table near the back. The sun hadn't set yet, but we knew the inn would fill soon, and we felt like being left alone.
After exhaling deeply through his nose, Esbern started complaining. "What a gods-damned day…"
"Yeah…" I muttered. "But at least we're alive."
"Barely," he comments.
I sigh. "Don't be so negative, you heard him—Sandor studied magic at the College. Just having defeated him must is a feat!"
He only grunts, just as Erik arrives with our drinks.
"Would there be anything else, guys?" Erik asks, setting the mugs down gently.
"Yeah. Keep 'em coming," Esbern said, "I need to get drunk," he grabs a mug—draining half of it in one go.
"You got it, boss!" Erik replies with a grin, before disappearing back toward the bar.
I raise an eyebrow at him "You sure that's wise?"
Esbern makes an irritated expression, while pinching his right arm. "Oh, shut up." He murmurs. "My wife Erina's going to kill me tomorrow either way."
"For being alive?" I ask, "it can't be that bad."
He stared into his mug. "And then what? I probably can't fight anymore. If I can't be a guard, how can I support them?"
I snort. "Oh please, you could still kick just about any guard's ass. I've seen how you fight. You could be the guardsmen fighting instructor. Hell, you're still next in line for Commander Caius' seat—he's about ready to retire."
He doesn't answer, his eyes lingering on his mug just a bit longer, a sliver of contemplation in them.
"Besides, just switch to a lighter blade. I bet you'd still kick my ass if you tried."
Esbern huffs a chuckle. "I'd bet most people could do that."
"Ha. Ha." I raised my mug in mock salute. "I'll have you know, this guy"—pointing to myself—"will soon be a force to be reckoned with."
"Why? Because you got that necromancer's book?" he asks.
Before I could reply, Erik returned with two fresh mugs. "Round two, boys!"
Esbern quickly starts on his second one.
"Don't be stupid, I don't plan on using it." I say, leaning in. "But, if I can train with my other spells like I did with the ward, I'll soon be much stronger."
"Mhm..." Was all the reply I got, before a big wave of townsfolk entered the inn.
I couldn't help but glance toward the door as it creaked open, quietly studying the faces that stepped inside.
When the last farmer finally had entered, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. My gaze drifted back to Esbern, a faint trace of disappointment tugging at my expression..
He meets my gaze with a grin. "Aaah... He says slyly, "I know that face."
"What?..." I ask.
His grin lingers. "When did you have time to find yourself a farmer girl? If it even is a girl."
I blush lightly. "It's not like that..."
"Yeah right it isn't..." Esbern says before finishing his second mead. "I've seen that look before. So, who is it?"
I clear my throat, lowering my voice. "That high elf..."
"Ragnar, Hahaha..." Esbern breaks into laughter, "my wife and I have had our differences, she's an Imperial and I'm a Nord."
He leans in, still grinning. "The differences between you and a high elf, that's far worse." He said, while snatching my second mead.
"Hey. That's mine! And keep your voice down, would you?!" I shush at him.
He raise the mug to his mouth, "relax, she isn't here," he said before gulping down my mead greedily.
"Slow it down, would you? Those mugs aren't exactly small! Even a man at your size must be feeling buzzed already..."
He plants the mug onto the table and wave dismissively, "yeah, yeah. Just heal my hangover in the morning... Or, if your spell can manage to atleast take care of that..."
Esbern gets up. "I got to take a piss," he slurs while heading for the exit.
I turn and look at him as he leaves, that man cannot be used to drinking!
"Unbelievable..." I murmur, as I return to my mead.
Of course, I kinda get why he would feel sorry for himself, his loss today was far greater than mine.
But little did I know, that he would run into a courier with a certain package, just outside the inn.
Little did I know, how much my lies and secrets would cost me.
"Hey there, hunter!" one of the young men at a nearby table calls out, loud enough to turn a few heads. "Come over here—tell us about that necromancer filth!"
With nothing better to do, I make my way over. As I approach, they break into cheers, drumming their hands on the table like I'm some kind of hero returning from battle, making me smirk.
I sit down and chat with them for a little while, but get interrupted when a gauntleted fist connects with my face, sending me tumbling over the table—flipping it and making a huge mess, drawing the attention of everyone at the inn.
Groaning, I rub my face. "Ouch... That fucking hurt..."I mutter, as I turn my head to see who had hit me.
A furious Esbern is towering over me, with a black sash over his shoulder.
"YOU!..." He roars, you're an abomination!.."
"Esbern?! Have you lost your damn mind?!" I yell back at him.
He points a finger at me and shout. "You're a liar! You're not from Rorikstead! And you're not a hunter!"
The eyes of everyone falls on me.
"I told you that I'd tell you everything, you idiot!" I snap at him.
"I don't want to hear it," Esbern snarls as he throws his new black sash onto the floor in front of me. As it lands, I see it's not a sash, it's a necromancer's robes.
"Shit," I mutter, it was the robes that Delphine would send, the timing could not be worse.
He starts stampeding toward me.
"It's not what you think!" I shout, but he doesn't listen.
He readies his left arm to throw another fist, but as he does—I cast spell ward.
It softened the blow, it didn't send me flying this time. But it still hurt when his fist connected with my face again.
Biting through the pain push him back, before I kick him—sending him down onto the floor.
The alcohol must have ruined his balance, because normally I don't suppose that I could take him down like that.
"Damnit, Esbern! I'm not a fucking nec—"
A lightning strikes, however this one was inside the inn—and it hit me—bringing me to my knees.
Stunned, it takes a moment before I'm able to draw my next breath. My breathing is heavy, and I already feel half dead, my body is shaking as I try to move.
Slowly and painfully I manage to turn around to see where the lighting had come from, the answer strikes me again—like a sting in my heart.
Thalniriel is glaring at me. Now, hate has filled her beautiful amber eyes. Glowing electrical aura surrounding on of her hands.
"Damnit... Fuck you, Esbern... This is all your fault!" I thought to myself, as my heart sinks. Fully aware that this could all have been avoided, if I hadn't lied to him.
But no one would have believed me if I told the truth anyway... right?
Esbern gets back up on his feat, slowly marching toward me with heavy footsteps.
I turn toward him as fast as I can manage, which can only be called slow at best.
His eyes meet mine, and like Thalniriel, they are also filled with hate.
"Esbern..." I wheeze, "I'm not a—"
*Slam!*
Without being able to finish my sentence, Esbern drove another gauntleted fist against my face, knocking me out.