They came in late that night into Dead Man's Drink. Dae was simply getting the load off of his shoulders, talking to his best friend Delacourt.
Ever since the death of the High King's cousin in Solitude, things have been rough for the Imperials all over Tamriel. Extra hours. More hunting jobs. And less pay.
And the dragon attacks! Blasted dragon attacks around every corner. Dae was in the middle of reliving his day with one of the Elder Dragons.
Delacourt had taken a rest from his music to sit next to him. "You know, it isn't all that bad."
"You don't have room to speak," Dae had told him. "You sit around here and cheer people up with your music. There is no blood on your hands. The only blisters you have are on the tips of your fingers from playing the lute."
Not too much later the door opened and three people appeared wearing black gear head to toe. Capes fell from their shoulders and their faces were hidden in masks with slits for eyes. Their hoods hid her hair. To their presence, the bar fell into silence.
Vagla, the innkeeper, stood up straighter, her voice wavering. "Welcome, T-Travelers. May I help you with something?"
Delacourt shot her a warning glance. In Dae's tired and drunken state, he merely gazed at them without fear. Though, he knew enough to keep his mouth shut.
"Yes," A surprisingly soft voice came from the one in the middle. "We were wondering if you could spare a couple beds for us."
People glanced at one another. These people needed a place to stay? In retrospect, three people traveling, no matter their class or power, needed to stop to rest. At this, Dae lost his interest, and he began to mope in his job again.
However, Delacourt was far from calm. His fingers twitches around a bag of coins at his side. Vaglra assisted the three of them towards their rooms.
Dae could hear them whispering to one another outside one of the doors. "I'll get changed. You should, too. We've been getting weird looks ever since we left the Sanctuary."
A heavily accented voice answered, "As if wearing this armor helps the matter."
The third party member was a little smaller than the others. On her back was a long bow of Ebony. "It really does not help. Let's just change and try to be normal for once."
The sweet voice replied, "What is normal anymore?"
There was no such thing as normal. To others, Dae's life may have seemed "normal." He was simply a guard, trained and paid to protect Falkreath with his life. He patrolled, he fought, he did everything simply because he was told too. Yet, there's was a part of him no one could understand.
Eventually, Delacourt's shoulder relaxed and he leaned over the table, leaning closer into Dae's cupped head. "Those people who just walked in… I heard so many stories in the songs I sang at the Bard's College."
"What do you mean?" Dae tried to ask, but they came out as soft moans.
And yet, Delacourt understood. "The Nightingales. Sworn to protect the Divine Nocturnal…" his eyes widened in realization. "And they just walked into this inn. Dae, get a look at this!"
Dae was offered a clean and excited hit in the shoulder. He glared up at Delacourt. "Those are just stories, Moron. The guards talk about it all the time. Nothing much than some stupid tales."
"Well," Delacourt swung backwards so he was leaning back against the table. "They also said dragons were a legend."
To that, Dae did not answer. Mostly because he was right. Everyone Skyrim once knew was being blown up in their faces. Good riddance to mental stability.
"As long as I don't have to raise a dagger to their faces…" he sighed tiredly.
"Really, it was just a story to scare people," Delacourt took an apple from the table and took a chunk out of it. "But wouldn't it be cool if it was really them?"
"Not really," Dae replied.
"You're so depressing," Dae started at the sound of another voice. It came from the edge of the table. Dae raised his head to see beautiful Narri and her broom. She was cleaning up from around the table, and couldn't help to pry herself into business that didn't concern her. Which is why she even wanted to work here. She has gotten her fair shares of stories out of him, and out of Delacourt… and out of mostly everyone in Falkreath.
"I'm just so tired," Dae moaned. "I really should be getting back to the barracks, anyway."
He stood up uneasily, slipping his legs over the seat. As he turned, a girl exited one of the rooms that was assigned to the ones in black.
She was definitely a Nord, but with hair the color of freshly fallen snow and a tattoo of odd symbol sketched onto the side of her face. The sight of her hit him in the chest like he should know her. But he merely passed by as she walked to the flames in the middle.
Before he left, he decided it was his duty. "Staying out of trouble, I presume?" He asked glumly.
The girl side-glanced him. The glow of the flames was like a war between ice and fire on her face. Her blue eyes sparkled in the melting heat. "For you, I should say yes."
Dae stared a little longer than he meant to. Good enough for me, he thought. When the burly man with red hair and an dunmer exited their rooms, he shook his head and walked out of Dead Man's Drink.
A storm bellowed outside as Dae laid on his bunk, staring at the ceiling above him. Sleep was hard to come by nowadays. Images of everything replayed themselves in his head like vision that wouldn't end. He saw so many things when he shut his eyes.
Slowly, his eyes began to slid shut. For once, he let to come. Maybe it was today's dragon fight. Maybe his will was slipping away from him finally.
But what he saw underneath everything that pained him, he saw the girl and the flames. The ice and the fire. A simple smile spread across his face.
Then the fire grew and grew. It consumed everything, including the girl. It burned her skin and her hair was fiery snakes. When it all died away, the face of a hundred old draugr replaced his mind.
The draugr overlord whom he failed to defeat so long ago. The one that understood his name and his fate. His voice haunted his dreams.
"Faaz! Paak! Dinok!"
Pain. Shame. Death. Dae could understand the language. How, he never understood. Some twisted game.
He slowly rose from his bed as soon as the sun rose from the first peak of the mountains. The others were still asleep, enjoying their time to rest. Dae took his gear and bow, slipping out of the barracks and towards the archery targets. The ground was pasty from the rain. His mind was fogged with fatigue, but it didn't stop him from making it through the past few days.
With each arrow, he proclaimed his anger.
For the bandits.
For the dragons. Stupid beasts.
For Talos. This wretched civil war.
For this job.
For this life.
For the Draugr Overlord.
Each one made it home in the center of the target. He reached back to pull out another arrow to find he had none left. He walked up to take his arrows back from the target. The minute he placed his hands on the shaft, another arrow embedded itself right beside his palm, touching his skin yet nothing was split.
He twisted around, about to blow up on whoever thought that was good idea, then saw that white hair peeking out from just outside the wooden fences. Her ebony arrow was in her hand. A smirk placed along her face.
"Excuse me?" Dae questioned.
The girl was in simple leather armor, a dagger fastened to her side. She placed a small hand on her hip. "Sorry about that. I wanted your attention."
"Well, you have it," Dae said, biting his tongue from saying anything else that may have been offense to the Nord.
"Could you lead me in the direction of the Lakeview Manor?"
Dae blinked. "It's… just east of here."
The girl nodded. "Thank you. No one else is up. Even that Jarl of yours."
"There are guards stationed everywhere," Dae said flatly.
At that, the girl huffed annoyingly, and turned her hand, exposing her tattoo even more clearly. "Be that way. I got places to be."
Once she was off, Dae turned back to his target. It was impressive that she had such aim. Hopefully, it wasn't all luck. And his hand would have had to pay for it if her luck was dimmer this morning.
Where were her friends? They didn't seem to be with her which was a little off to him. They gave off a trio type of vibe. Dae shook his head. Maybe she was getting information for the three of them.
When the others awoke, they all scampered around town, helmets on and shoulders hunched. Dae couldn't blame them.
"Hey, you!" Dae turned his head towards a group of guards gathered around talking. "Put that helmet on, you're in public!"
Dae sighed. As ugly as it was, it was his job, he reminded himself. He slid the helmet around his head.
Orders were given to all the guards. Dae was stationed with another to the front gates until noon. Then they would take Dae on another trip at night.
Great, Dae thought. Though his hands trembled at the thought of what that trip was. Why did they never get a break off? Why couldn't Dae retire from all of this?
"You're one of youngest out of all of us," said the guard, Felix, next to him. Silent mornings led to unwanted conversations, Dae knew that very much.
Dae merely hummed in response. Felix surveyed the area in front of him. "And the best bowsman we got, sadly. I was with you that fight with the Elder Dragon. I saw how you plunged that arrow into his eye. No mercy. Where did you go to train?"
A soft breeze lifted the flowers along the side of the path. Above, the sky was clear as could be. No clouds and no dragon, but the sun beat on metal helmet. He felt suffocated.
"I learned from my father," Dae said. It wasn't a total lie. "He was an excellent warrior. Died a hero."
Around here, death was another word to everyone. Felix shrugged and went on. "I wish my parents would have given me a eye's blink. I was raised on a farm. As soon as I was old enough to leave that smelly place, I started walking away. Never went back."
Dae wished he could go back. Dae wished he hadn't walked away.
Two people exited the gates of Falkreath. The two from last night, but the girl was nowhere to be found.
One was dressed in light armor, perfect for sneaking and getting by without a notice. Of course, Dae said with gritted teeth.
"Keep your hands out of my pockets, scum," Dae spat.
The man glanced without a care, and proceeded out into the world with the girl at her side.
"Where's that other girl of yours?" Felix called out. Dae watched as they both stopped.
"None of your business, lad," said the man.
"She was heading towards Lakeview Manor," Dae said. He caught both of their attention. "Came by early this morning and asked the way. But, I'm assuming you already knew that."
They looked as if they wanted to ask more questions. It occurred to him that the girl had run off without anyone knowing. Under his helmet, he smirked. A runaway too.
Instead of saying anything, their bodies tensed and they began to walk to a pair of horses stationed by the trees. Dae and Felix watched as they rode off in a gallop.
Felix chuckled. "Good one, Dae. Why would that girl want a mansion by the lake? Especially if she's one of them."
Dae shrugged. "She did come by, though, asking for the direction."
"Perhaps she needs a bigger place to store all the treasure she stole all over Skyrim," Felix said. "As tiny as she is, she could probably steal the Axe of Whiterun right under the Jarl's nose."
Noon struck as beads of sweat poured from his hair. He was happy to shake off his helmet and run his hands through his dark, damp hair.
"Please gather around!" Called the Legate. Soldiers were dressing themselves in extra armor as they listened for tonight's plan.
Dae stood next to Felix, a skinny fellow with a wrinkled face and thin red hair. His Imperial Bow was strapped to his back, weightless on his back. Here and there people also carried bows, but he felt like he was only one comfortable with one.
"We'll be marching into toward lake Illinalta," the Legate was saying, reading from a single piece of paper in his hand. "Towards Pinewatch. We're meet with their bandit leader. And by meet," a smudge of a grin appeared on his face. "Kill on sight. They mean nothing but trouble."
"Looks like no dragon-slaying tonight," Felix sighed. "I hope this goes by quickly."
Dae looked down at his satchel. He had a couple potions inside, including a small Magicka potion. He has one health potion left, since he hasn't had time to stop by and collect more. If all goes well, he wouldn't have to use any of them.
The walk was a dread. The Legate rode on his horse, surveying his troop of six. Dae held the rear, his feet feeling the pain of last night's drink.
I really feel like a dead man, Dae said to himself.
Finally he unhooked his bow and held it to his side. It was familiar in his hand. It gave him a lot of comfort to know it was here with him.
Through the pine trees, smoke billowed from a tiny cottage by a small pond. Outside, it had been stripped bare of its plants and hides. A single horse stood drinking water from the small watering hole.
No one paid much attention to the horse. The Legate waved the others back towards the trees and marched up to the door.
Dae stared at the horse, though. He couldn't keep his mind off of it. It was charcoal black with a leather saddle. When it turned its head to look at the group of soldiers, its eyes were as red as blood.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then the Legate raised his hand as he began to open the door. He beckoned for the arrows to be raised. Dae notched his arrow and slid into the bushes, eyes trained on the door.
The men with swords approached the door, sliding in before the Legate.
Dae followed afterwards. But before he got another look at the mysterious horse.
It was staring back at him.
"You have committed crimes against Skyrim!" Shouted the Legate. Dae whipped his head back towards the door, sliding in to see what was happening. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Inside it felt like a nice little home. A fire blazed warmly with potato soup filling the air with a stomach-grumbling smell. On the table, a black bow laid on top with a full quiver of arrows on top. Sitting in a chair, all by herself, was the girl from before.
She sat smiling up at her visitors with a tankard of mead in her hand. In no way did she feel threatened.
"What crimes?" She tilted her head, questionably.
The Legate growled, raising his sword point to her nose. "You must be Rigel Strong-Arm, the leader of this group of bandits."
At that, the girl looked around curiously, as if wondering where he got the term: "Group of bandits." Then she pointed into the stairs leading down into the basement. "I'm not Rigel, Sir. I'm a common girl sitting here making soup. But if you need to speak with her, she's downstairs… though, I'd be careful. She's seen better days."
Dae tried to keep from rolling his eyes. He pointed his arrow towards her face. If she moved towards the Legate, he was obligated to release.
"Don't play games with me, Rigel," the Legate snapped his fingers and Felix and another soldier wrapped their hands around her arms, hoisting her from her chair. Her tankard fell to the ground.
Her cheeks flushed red. "I'm telling you: I'm. Not. Rigel. I killed her along with all the other bandits in this place. Don't believe me? Go down and check."
Her eyes flicked to Dae and he jumped slightly. "You… you told me how to get here this morning. How could I be the leader if I didn't even know my own way?"
The Legate looked at Dae, and his skin ran cold. "Is this true?"
Dae felt his throat get dry. "Yes, sir."
Still, this didn't seem to satisfy. "It proves nothing still. Have the girl taken to to our jails. And you," he pointed a finger to Dae. "Scout underground for this true Rigel. Come to me when you've completely searched it."
"By myself?" Dae blurred out.
Felix pulled the girl along. Her expression was firm and annoyed. When they passed, she looked at Dae and said: "Rigel's body is in her room. Everyone else is dead. Don't worry."
"Let's hope she's telling the truth," the Legate said with a scoff, and followed them outside. Everyone left, and Dae was left alone to a nicely made potato soup.