Chapter One: Skyrim (Morndas/Tirdas, 18/19th of Last Seed)

She had walked all night, and her feet were exhausted. She'd only gone to the river to fetch some drinking water and wash some of their extra clothing, but when she had returned to the camp, it was abandoned. Upon further exploration, she came across what appeared to have been the scene of a battle. If her brother and sisters had been involved, they had survived because theirs weren't one of the many bodies scattered about the road.

She had been the one to map out their journey and had told her siblings if they were ever separated, they should meet in Helgen, as it was the first town in Skyrim they would come to on their planned route. From what she had read of Helgen, it was a large walled town with an inn that was a common stop for travelers and still under Imperial control, so a group of Altmer just passing through wouldn't garner a great deal of attention. She headed in that direction, hoping her family would as well, though, in truth, she wasn't certain if they would remember the meeting spot. The last few weeks had been chaos and constant travel, and she could barely remember what she had managed to scrounge together for breakfast let alone long-term plans.

Glenys was known as the brains of the family. Although all of the siblings were blessed with above-average intelligence, excellent instincts, and common sense to boot, Glenys' photographic memory and insatiable hunger for learning had her excelling her siblings when it came to general knowledge, historical events, and geography. None of them had been to Skyrim, but Glenys had read every book she could get her hands on and had read and reread her uncle's letters.

It was just an hour or so after dawn when Glenys finally arrived in Helgen. Much as she had pictured it, she happily strolled toward the gate, wondering if any of her siblings had beat her to the inn or if she was the first to arrive.

Just then, a group of robed Thalmor emissaries on horseback road up to the gate ahead of her, and she stopped quickly, watching as they spoke to the guards and made their way inside the town.

Well, Helgen was ruled out. It would be far too risky to enter a town with known Thalmor officials this far south. Especially together. First and foremost was survival. They had all agreed if they were ever separated, they would do what needed to be done to survive alone while looking for each other. Glenys' sense told her that meant not following the group of Thalmor into the city. Skimming her map, Glenys wondered where she should head next. Riverwood, Falkreath, and Ivarstead were the closest settlements, and although all had inns, they didn't have the population that would allow a group of six Altmer refugees to blend in mostly unnoticed. It looked like Whiterun was her next option.

Sighing at the idea of having to continue walking when she was exhausted and famished, she resigned herself to continuing her journey, deciding she would revisit Helgen in a day or two in hopes of finding her family.

The Bannered Mare had been a lovely place to rest her head for the night. The bed was comfortable, the room warm, and the food satisfying. The people watching had been epic. For as long as she could remember, Glenys had enjoyed watching people. She happily perched herself on the edge of rooms, content to sit alone and avoid conversation, simply studying the people around her. The differences in people and cultures fascinated her - their mannerisms, style of clothing, accents. Sometimes she would make up stories in her head about the people she watched, but, mostly, she just soaked in whatever knowledge she could glean from the environment.

After enjoying a small breakfast by the fire, she made her way back outside the gates of the cheerful walled city of Whiterun. Her feet were sore and blistered after all the foot travel they had undergone in the last weeks, but she knew she needed to return to Helgen to find her brother and sisters.

Rounded tents of animal hide were set up outside the city which she hadn't noticed upon arrival the day before, and Glenys' eyes widened with excitement when she realized it was a Khajiit caravan. She had never personally encountered anyone of the cat-like Khajiiti race, but she'd read about them, of course, and heard of their ways from her sister, Aerenwen, whose best friend back in Vulkhel Guard had been one of the felines. The idea of actually meeting some of them herself, thrilled her to no end.

"Hello," she said simply as she approached one man, a brown cat with white markings, wearing expensive clothing and sitting outside one of the tents.

"Greetings, elf," the cat replied. "What can Ri'saad do for you today?"

Glenys had read that the Khajiit usually spoke in first person, something about their communal way of life and having no sense of ownership. She found it fascinating, and ironic, that a race of people who owned nothing of their own had found fortune in other provinces selling goods. "I've only just arrived in Skyrim," Glenys explained, "and I've read about your trading caravans. I just needed to get a closer look if you don't mind. I enjoy learning about other cultures immensely." She knew some would find that odd. Her sisters had often referred to her as 'socially awkward', but she was who she was, and she'd learned to live with it years ago.

"Not at all," the trader replied with a smile. "Ri'saad is happy to converse with those who accept the Khajiit as they are. So many look down upon us. We are seen as theives and beneath most other races, and in Skyrim, we aren't even allowed within the city walls. It is refreshing for Ri'saad to meet a high elf such as you."

"Are you packing up?" Glenys asked, watching as two other cats began tearing down one of the nearby tents.

"Yes. Ri'saad owns three caravans in Skyrim," he replied. "This is the one Ri'saad travels with, and we travel between the cities of Whiterun and Markarth, spending a week at a time outside each. It is time we move on to Markarth."

Glenys frowned, realizing she only had a short time to visit with them.

"Where are you traveling to on this beautiful day, young elf?" Ri'saad asked.

"Helgen," she replied.

"Have you not heard the news?"

She shook her head.

"A traveler arrived just an hour ago with news of a dragon attack on Helgen," Ri'saad replied. "The city was destroyed. Many perished. A friendly guard told Ri'saad, so we would avoid the city in our travels."

Glenys wasn't entirely certain what to do with that information. First of all, a living dragon? That was a lot to process. Secondly, she could only thank the divines that she had spotted those Thalmor and chosen not to spend the night in Helgen and pray that her brother and sisters did the same. "I guess I'll be staying in Whiterun a bit longer then," she said, turning to look over her shoulder toward the city's walls.

"Ri'saad does not make this offer often," the cat-man stated, standing, "but he likes you. This one thinks you may be interesting to talk with, and you seem to want to know more about our culture. Perhaps you would like to travel to Markarth with Ri'saad and his friends?"

Glenys' eyes widened in excitement at the opportunity. She ignored the little voice telling her to turn around and go back to Whiterun and nodded eagerly. To travel with a Khajiit caravan and to have the opporunity to visit the city of Markarth, built atop ancient Dwemer ruins was an opportunity she just could not pass up.