Chapter Two: On the Mend (Sundas, 24th of Last Seed; Middas, 27th of Last Seed; Sundas, 31st of Last Seed)
Another three days passed before Runil allowed Mari to leave her bed. During that time she slept a lot, ate a bit, and read through some of the books on magicka the old priest had in his small library. The Altmer man was a font of knowledge, and she found she enjoyed conversing with him. He told her if she wished to continue her pursuit of the mage arts in Skyrim, she should consider looking into attending the College of Winterhold. She was intrigued by the idea but was more focused on getting well, so she could search for her family.
On the third day of being up and around, Mari was going stir-crazy. She helped Runil however she could around the house, but she needed fresh air, and she felt she was feeling up to it. Runil permitted her to spend some time out on the porch of his home, and she walked amongst the stones of the ancient cemetery for some time.
It was there she first encountered Kust. He was a Nord of few words, a retired warrior who had pledged himself to the divines and helped Runil maintain the cemetery. Over the next several days, Mari developed a bit of an affinity for the grouchy old Nord, taking every opportunity she could to tease him and ruffle his feathers. She always felt especially accomplished when the stoic man cracked a smile at one of her jokes.
Finally, two weeks after she had been shot, Mari was feeling well enough to start actually living again. The first thing she needed to do was find a job. She was done taking advantage of her new friends' kindness and felt it was time to start earning her keep and give Kust his bed back.
As her first excursion into town, Runil invited her to the Harvest's End celebration, a symbolic celebration of the end of harvesting season celebrated throughout Tamriel on the 27th of Last Seed, despite the fact that depending on the weather, the time of harvest often varied drastically from year to year. Mari turned him down, however, finding herself melancholy on the first holiday she spent without her family. She had no desire to celebrate it with a town full of strangers and instead sat by the fire with an alchemy book.
Runil found her work at the nearby Corpselight Farm. The couple who owned it recently lost their child, and, in their mourning, needed some extra hands to maintain the crops and livestock. Mari looked forward to being a productive citizen again and couldn't wait to earn her first few septims. The first thing she planned to do was rent a room at the inn, so Kust would stop sleeping on the floor.
"We'll start harvesting soon," Mathies, the owner of Corpselight Farm, was explaining to Mari. "My wife is staying busy, but I fear she will overwork herself, so your extra help is appreciated."
"My condolences on your daughter's passing," Mari offered, unsure of really what else to say. She had no children of her own, nor did she really have much interest in having any, but she imagined there was no greater pain than losing a child.
Mathies nodded in appreciation. "She hadn't even seen her tenth winter. I just don't understand. He . . . ripped her apart. Like a sabre cat rips a deer. We barely found enough of her to bury."
Mari winced at the mental image. She couldn't imagine having to see such a thing at all let alone when it was your own child. "What was it that killed her?"
"Not a what, a who!" Mathies replied. "Sinding. Came through as a laborer. Seemed like a decent man, but then . . . he was a beast. What kind of man could do such a thing?" He blinked away some tears and attempted to pull himself together. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check on my wife."
Later that night, after returning to the Hall of the Dead following a full day of working at the farm, Mari sat by the fire enjoying some apple cabbage stew Kust had prepared. She decided to ask about the little girl who had been killed and the man who killed her, having been unable to get her mind to focus on anything else all afternoon.
"He's a werewolf," Runil answered. "Gifted with lycanthrope from the daedric lord Hircine, though in his case I suppose it is more of a curse. Most werewolves have decent control over their changes, but from the sounds of it, this Sinding is completely uncontrolled. I'm not sure why. I haven't spoken to him myself. He's in the pit in the Falkreath prison if you're curious about it. I, myself, have always found lycanthrope and vampirism to be fascinating, so I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to question him. I'd be curious to know why he can't control his changes if you do find out."
Mari went to bed that night and fell into a fitful sleep full of werewolves and dragons. Though she wasn't entirely certain where the dragons had come from.
Author's Note: And that is the end of the first part of Mari's story. Short, I know. Her story will begin to be more involved in the next part. This part was just to introduce her a bit and get her settled into Skyrim. The next part of her story will be more in depth. I will be posting my third sibling's story, Skryim Book III: Nesta, as a separate work in the coming days. If you haven't read Book I, the start of Aerenwen's story, the first part of that has already been posted.
