The frogs were croaking a steady beat, masking the sound of heavy footsteps sloshing through thick marshes. A faint stink was in the air, smelling of unwashed clothing and rotted food and body waste, the usual odor of Bravil. Darkness was blanketed around the scenery, blinding a guard standing lazily in front of the town bridge to the sight of a boy, in his late teens, sneaking (badly) out of the town.
He wouldn't normally be out this late, but the local gang of boys (the son of the Count included) had dared him to spend the night in the Ayleid ruin just outside the town walls, retrieving a Varla Stone to prove he did. If he could, he would get ten gold from each of the five boys, but if he couldn't, he'd pay them each ten gold. And the boy agreed, despite the fact that his mother always told him to never, ever, on any occasion, to accept a bet. But his mother was dead of fever and he was growing poorer by the minute. What was there to lose?
So there he was, attempting to sneak through the marshes and at least reach the glowing blue well across the bridge. But going across the bridge would notify the guard, and he was already in enough trouble with the law as it was. The boy didn't mind swimming if it meant escaping from the guards, and it wasn't like he was weighed down. All he had was a cheap wooden bow, equally cheap arrows, and the ragged clothes on his back. Those few things were his only belongings. Even the house he lived in wasn't his, since the Count took ownership of it once the boy's mother passed away. It was only a matter of time before he'd be kicked out so another could buy the dingy little shack, and then he'd have nowhere to go.
A rock fell, kicked loose by his feet. The guard looked around, but didn't notice the one sneaking beneath him. Breathing a sigh of relief and thanking Nocturnal, the boy continued. He was almost at the water now...
The whinny of a horse caused him to fall in with a splash. Again, luck was with him as the squeaking of a cart's wheels masked the noise. He knewkissing that grimy statue of the Lucky Old Lady was worth it.
"What're you carrying?" The guard said roughly. It was obvious that he was very tired.
"Food and drink for the court." Came the answer, from a woman who was steering the cart. The horse whinnied again, as the guard nodded and waved them through. The boy used this as an opportunity to swim to the other side of the small bit of water, and was halfway up the rocks. Breathing heavily, he clutched the slimy, algae covered rocks as he climbed, praying that the guard wouldn't see him.
Again, luck was on his side. Managing to pull himself to the other side, he didn't bother to be quiet as he ran the rest of the way toward a ruin. Once majestic arches were now covered in dirt, moss, and animal waste, the white stone grimy and disgusting to the touch. The entrance was overgrown, covered in vines. The darkness was broken by the light of the old well in front of the entrance, lighting only a small area around the ruin. It was too far away for the guard to notice, and, from what the boy expected, filled only with imps.
Stepping in front of the entrance, he took several breaths, bracing himself for what could come. It was common knowledge that there were many gas traps around the ruin, and after running many errands for the mages guild hall, he obtained a few healing potions and a few ones that offered poison resistance. They were now strapped to his belt, clinking oh-so-quietly as he walked.
The door made a bit of a scraping noise as he opened it, revealing a dark, dingy hallway. As he stepped down, the smell of death and decay hit him full on. It wasn't disgusting, more like a dusty smell, like what the inside of a trunk sealed for years gives off when you finally open it. A more sinister smell lay underneath, and he guessed that it was the gas. Thank the Nine that the Mages Guild was generous.
It was truly a nightmare. The ruin was crawling with various traps and switches and imps and Mara knew what else, but he couldn't find a Varla Stone anywhere. But he didn't stop, sweeping the entire ruin multiple times. Eventually, he found a door with a beautiful pattern of a tree on it, made of what looked like blue gems. Slowly opening it, he kept his eyes open for any monsters. Nothing.
Carefully walking through the rooms, there was still nothing. Nothing at all. No traps, not even a rat. It didn't make sense... there had to be one of those stones here, unless...
Oh, he was going to killall of them. They were all probably huddled around the door to the Skooma Den, laughing their asses off at the fact that they just sent him on a stupid mission into a gas filled ruin, and that they'd get ten gold each because there really wasn'ta stupid Varla stone.
The boy picked up a small pebble and tossed it toward the wall. It made a strange noise when it made contact, and he realized he'd just hit a switch. A room was revealed, with an altar in the center and one of those weird Ayleid chests on top of it. But that didn't catch his eye, no, what caught his eye was the fact that there was a girllaying in front of it, frozen in place. Her brown eyes were wide open and her expression was fearful, but she didn't move. Her clothes were moth eaten and falling apart, and she was covered in dust. How long had she been there?
All he could tell was that she was apparently a young Altmer. Rich golden skin and pointed ears, along with the typical rose blonde hair. But why was she there? Did an Ayleid spell permanently paralyze her on a treasure hunt gone wrong?
In spite of himself, he walked over to the girl and gave her a sharp prod. Nothing. A slight nudge with the foot. Nothing.
Within a few minutes he was yelling in her ear and violently shaking her body, but there was still no response. Giving up in frustration, he decided to see just what was in the Ayleid chest.
A potion and a few pieces of jewelry laid inside. He pocketed the jewelry, but decided to look at the potion. There was no label, instead, the words were carved into the bottle. But they were in a completely different language, and he understood nothing. But it didn't look like poison, and a quick sip confirmed this. Maybe...
He leaned over the girl, feeling a little bit awkward to be so close to something that looked so alive but was, apparently, dead. Opening her mouth, he poured a little bit of the potion in, rubbing her neck so it would be swallowed, noting that her skin was still warm, despite the fact that it was covered in a layer of dust like the rest of the ruins.
No response.
Did he really expect it to work? It was a stupid, fleeting little idea to think that a potion who's effects were unknown to him would work on a girl who was hit by Akatosh knew what spell. He turned away, deciding that there really was no way to wake her up, and that it would be best to just head back to Bravil, sell the jewelry he found, and pay off the count's son and the boys that followed him. Maybe there'd be enough left over for him to afford another meal.
Then he heard something behind him exhale, then inhale, as if it hadn't breathed in centuries. Moving back toward the girl, he saw that she wasbreathing. Alive. So it did work.
Her eyes, open for an age, closed and opened again. They slowly scanned the room, closing wearily again. She didn't speak, instead just staring at everything. Like a newborn child seeing the world for the first time.
"Are you alright?" He asked her, wondering just how she came to be here. The girl didn't answer. "Can you speak?"
Her expression showed the faintest of understanding. "Yes." She replied. Her words, though Cyrodiilic, carried the strangest accent, like the Altmer, but, if it was even possible, prouder. "Who are you?"
It was a struggle for her to talk, that was for certain. The girl coughed, and dust flew out of her mouth, to both his and her surprise.
"I'm Jack." The boy held out his hand, and the girl took it. "What's your name?"
She stumbled when he pulled her up into a standing position, and leaned against him, panting heavily. "Ceya. I'm Ceya. Where am I?"
Jack bit his lip. Ceya was at least a foot taller than he was, and it was more than a little hard to keep her standing when she was leaning against him like that. But he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her, she looked to be the same age as him, maybe even a little younger, and she did really look lost.
"Some old Ayleid ruin. Anut-something. I forget, they always have weird names for these places. Come on, let's get you out of here."
Jack had managed to help Ceya back into Bravil, after having to explain himself to the guard in front of the gates. It was almost dawn, and he was almost ready to pass out from sleepiness. But the guard wouldn't have any of it, and only after making up an excuse about finding the girl in the ruins where she was looking for something she lost (to which Ceya made no protest, as she was too busy admiring the night sky as if it was the first time she'd ever seen it) that the man let them back into the city.
Bravil was quiet, seeing as how it was almost one in the morning. He could see faint torchlight from the center of the main group of buildings, and after years of living in the town, Jack knew that this was Ungolim the Bosmer, who, as rumors told, always spent the night at the statue's side, hoping for a bit of luck with a woman who he was apparently trying to woo. But that didn't explain the fact the the Bosmer talkedto the thing.
It must have been an odd sight, an Altmer girl walking with an Imperial boy, the former looking around while remaining completely silent, the latter nervous and focused completely on the second floor of a dingy home near the chapel.
He felt more than a little ashamed at the sight of his home, as it had fallen into heavy disrepair after his father abandoned him and his mother, and became even more run down after his mother died. The thought of having an Altmer, proud and noble, in the hovel he called home, was more than a little uncomfortable. But he couldn't afford to pay for a room for the girl, and he already have fifty gold to pay to Gellius Terentius and his gang. At the thought of this his stomach squirmed uncomfortably, as he led Ceya up the creaking wooden stairs to his home.
What puzzled him was that she wasn't disgusted by the filth of Bravil, and didn't seem to mind the smell. She stayed perfectly quiet and just observed the world around her, something that seemed more Bosmer than Altmer. All he knew was that the girl was lost and had no idea of what happened to her, and that she had nowhere to go at all.
She wasn't picky when it came to food. In fact, she grabbed a mushroom and munched on it contentedly when he showed her where the food was, and had half a loaf of bread. But she ate no more and drank only a glass of water, causing Jack to be temporarily stunned. If hewas frozen in place long enough to have dust fall on him, he sure as hell would eat alot more food.
Then, after he drilled her with a few more questions, all to have her answer that she didn't know anything and couldn't remember anything, she flopped herself down in front of the dirty fireplace, stretching out like a house cat, and fell fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that she was on a hard, flat wooden floor that hadn't been washed in at least a month.
A while later he decided to go to sleep, too. He had to sell both his mother's bed and his own bed to pay the rent what felt like ages before, and all he had was a used, dusty old bedroll that was far from comfortable. But it was better than sleeping on the floor.
Silently wishing he was as at ease with the world as Ceya was, he unrolled the bedroll and laid down on it, gazing at the flickering flames until sleep claimed him.
A large bang on the door awoke him the next morning.