WINTERHOLD, EARLIER IN THE DAY
The City of Winterhold. "Welcome traveler, to the Jewel of the North," jested the few scattered citizens who still lived in the squat settlement, dwarfed by the imposing shadow of the College that lay but a few paces away from the city. Where proud spires of both magical and man-made construction had once soared high above the lolling waves of the Sea of Ghosts, only a pitiful collection of straw hovels could be perceived; remnants of what had once been a bustling municipality.
The town had certainly seen better days.
"It does not snow but it blizzards" goes the common saying between Winterhold's inhabitants. Yet they plow on with their lives and refuse to leave the City, undeterred by the bleak winds and the biting cold. The weather was hard; the people of Winterhold hardier still. They gritted their teeth and moved on, perpetually mindful of their city's glorious history; eagerly speaking of Winterhold's former splendor to browbeaten travelers too weary to do anything but listen to their ramblings over a mug of warm ale in the local tavern. "It was the College," they whispered, that had devastated the city. It had to be. What else could have explained why it alone remained firm in the face of The Great Collapse, if not for foul magickery? They bristled and huddled together in the harsh cold that wood and straw could only do so much to withhold, oft throwing jealous looks to the smooth brick surfaces of the College and the warm magical fires that must be housed within.
Boom. An explosion abruptly rocked the earth, illuminating the gaps in the roof of The Frozen Hearth with a sudden brilliance of light. Not a few seconds later, a women's scream could be heard. Several customers looked up in panic. "Damn it," Dagur the innkeeper cursed. "What could those folk be up to again?" he thought, as he hurried outside his inn to check the commotion. It only took a few moments of witnessing what was outside before he slammed the door behind him in panic. A swarm of luminescent, serpentine beings were festering in the street nearby, attacking the nearby locals; products of a magical source, of that there was no doubt.
Dragon? Haran, the innkeeper's wife, mouthed fearfully. No, Dagur shook his head, but get to your rooms, he frantically gesticulated to his stunned companions in the tavern. He prayed for the safety of his compatriots outside who were valiantly trying to strike at the aberrations, but privately wondered what a few steel swords could do against ethereal constructs so many.
Outside, Brelyna Maryon, a young Dunmer scholar, had her hands full trying to purge the magical anomalies. "Fuck Ancano," she muttered under her breath, "fuck the College. Fuck it all!" With each obscenity she flung a fireball towards a magical wraith that had been advancing on a downed Winterhold guard; it writhed and exploded in a shower of sparks and glowing powder. She had signed up for the College for scholastic pursuits, and had insofar been impressed with the quality of the teachings of its professors, but a series of unfortunate events had swept her into a power struggle between the incumbent hierarchy and a megalomaniacal Thalmor asshole. In the midst of battle, the Archmage of the College had been murdered. "What a kerfuffle I have put myself in," she cursed. Heaving from the magical exertion, she decided to give herself a momentary respite, leaning against one of the wooden cabins and cupping her knees.
But there could be no rest for the weary. Her first realization of her mistake came when she heard the distinctive hiss of a magical wraith behind her shoulder.
The Dunmer hastily attempted to channel another spell into her hand. No time. With frightening speed and accuracy, the magical anomaly whipped her arm away, lashing its tail at her face and striking her to the ground. The blow knocked her dagger out of her belt; it embedded itself neatly in the snow several feet away from her reach. Shit! she thought. The monster was in her face. She had no time to either channel another spell or reach for the weapon in the ground.
Frantic, she scanned her surroundings for help. There was none. Her peers and teachers were engaged in their own battles many yards away from her; too far away to help or notice what she was doing. Her roving eyes found the Winterhold guard that she had saved earlier; pleadingly, she locked her eyes with his own. Whether out of cowardice or prejudice against her College or kin, he looked away, unhelping; consigning her to her own doom.
That bastard! her mind screamed. Sensing their prey, a couple of adjacent aberrations disengaged from their battles and slithered swiftly towards her fallen form. A gaping hole appeared in the bulbous "head" of the first of the mystical worms, revealing what was unmistakably a row of ghostly, magical teeth. Gods, she whimpered, but I am only a hundred and seven! There was only one thing left to do.
She squeezed her eyes shut, shielded her face pitifully with her hands and screamed.
From behind closed eyelids Brelyna saw a sudden flash of light, followed by a spray of dust that covered most of her hands and face. The envisioned sinking of malicious fangs into her flesh did not come. Quivering uncontrollably from cold and fear, she hesitantly opened her eyes and saw the fragments of a soul gem scattered on the ground. Something appeared to have caught the attention of the other two magical abnormalities, alarmed by the unexpected demise of one of their kind. Their amorphous bodies rose and fell in contemplation of this new, unseen threat. In an instant, one of them was struck down – by what? – bursting into another cloud of magical debris. Sensing imminent danger, the other attempted to scurry away, but it too succumbed to the invisible assailant. Beaming with gratitude, she looked around for her savior.
It was daylight. Yet there was no one else to be found.
Suddenly, she froze, sensing the touch of cold steel pressed against the nape of her neck. A pair of unseen hands pulled her forcibly behind the cabin, out of sight of any of the preoccupied townsfolk.
"Wha…what do you want?" she whispered fearfully, mindful of the blade that lingered at her throat.
"That which lies between the black and gold…" a female voice hissed.
"H-huh? I don't know what you're talking about… but please don't hurt me!" the terrified Dunmer girl pleaded. She prayed that her aggressor did not see the telltale embers of a fireball spell developing in her left hand.
Too late. In a single swift motion, the mysterious woman grabbed her hand and shifted it away before kicking her from behind her knees, tripping her face-first into the snow; the ensuing fireball that erupted from Brelyna's fingers instead finding the straw roof of an adjacent house, enveloping it in flames – yet another piece of collateral damage a College inhabitant has inflicted upon the hapless townsfolk. For the second time in the day the Dunmer girl found herself sprawled brusquely on the ground.
A pair of knees pressed against her back, forcing her into the snow, immobilizing her. The blade returned to its former position beside her neck, hovering menacingly. She whimpered a quick prayer to Azura, wishing she could see who her assailant was before feeling its sharp edge slicing through her throat.
"Ah-ah. Hands on your head, where I can see them. Don't want to do anything stupid now, would we?" the voice sternly commanded. "Now, tell me. What is that which lies between the black and gold? Might you be a friend or a foe? Speak quickly."
"Black and… I don't know! Please, I really don't know! I…I'm Brelyna Maryon, a descendent of the Telvanni family, of… of Morrowind. I came to Skyrim, to the College in the pursuit of developing my Con... my Conjuration! I'm just a student in the College! Please! I don't know what I have done, but I don't want to die! Please don't kill me!"
Her innocence must have rung true, for there was a moment of hesitation, and the oppressing weight on her body was removed. Still, the Dunmer dared not move, for the stranger had not withdrawn her sword.
"Stand up. Look at me. Do not remove your hands from the back of your head."
With great trepidation, Brelyna rose, her face streaked with dust and tears, the blow of the magical anomaly showing through an ugly red welt on her cheek. She cut a pitiful sight. From nothingness, the figure of a petite Nord with fiery tresses unexpectedly materialized; the wisps of arid smoke that drifted around her hand telling evidence of an Illusion spell that had been used. A slight frown furrowed on her fair, freckled face as she doubtfully contemplated her dark-skinned captive. It was freezing, yet she was draped in a simple white robe that boasted of her lithe, shapely figure, with evidently nothing else underneath. A pair of encaptivating emerald eyes searched the Dunmer's ruby ones with startling intensity. In all her hundred or so years she had never met a more beautiful Nord woman, Brelyna thought. Yet for all her previous combat feats the girl could not have seen more than twenty and five summers.
The Nord woman sighed, sheathing her blade. "You're not one of them. Sshhh. It's okay. I believe you." She lowered her lashes apologetically. "I'm sorry if I had been rough with you. I'm not here to harm you. I just need some information."
Relief washed through Brelyna in a warm, giddy surge, causing another bout of tears to well up from beneath her ruby orbs. The Nord shifted her toes uncomfortably in the snow.
"Are you hurt?" she asked sympathetically. The Dunmer shook her head in response.
"What happened in the College?"
"A Thalmor mage – Ancano – has unlocked a magical artifact that the College has found called the Eye of Magnus, and killed the Archmage. He is inside the halls trying to harness its power. I think it caused those magic things to appear in the town…" Brelya's head was still reeling from the emotional tsunami that she had been put through.
"What of the dark-haired Nord, with the teal markings across his face?" the Nord inquired.
"Gilrayn? The Elders sent him to retrieve an ancient countermeasure in Labyrinthian. Whatever it is, it seems that they believe it can stop Ancano from exploiting the Eye."
"Labyrinthian!" the fair girl exclaimed. "It is as Azura had decreed. The day of our meeting is here!" Her expression suddenly brightened with purpose, to the bemusement of the Dunmer. An Azura-worshipping Nord? Brelyna pondered, puzzled. "When did he leave?"
"About a half hour ago, on horseback," the Dunmer replied. Something about the stranger's countenance or voice inspired confidence, and Brelyna found herself revealing more than she was obliged to. "Wait! If you're following him, be careful. I think someone else is also on his pursuit. I saw an unknown person entering the College before setting off in the same direction. If this person was able to leave the Hall of Attainment alive, he must be an ally of Ancano."
"The Thalmor? Damn it," the Nord cursed under her breath. "Then I must make haste." Placing slender fingers to her lips, she whistled sonorously to the wind.
The whinny of a horse echoed in response. A magnificent white stallion, its fur gleaming in the warm sunlight, appeared in the distance, galloping rapidly towards the pair of females. Within an instant it was at the Nordic woman's side, nuzzling its nose fondly into her shoulder.
"This is Silvermane. My steed," she said; how aptly named, Brelyna thought, as the Nord girl caressed its silvery white fur between her fingers. She leaned forward and kissed it between its eyes. "We need to ride like the wind, my friend," the girl whispered, mounting it. "To Labyrinthian. The day of Azura's reckoning cometh."
"Here," the Nord beckoned to the Dunmer, tossing her a few vials of shimmering blue liquid, "to help you with the rest of the magical constructs. Thanks for the information. I have to go now. May Azura bless you in your protection of the College and Winterhold. We may yet meet again."
"Wait! Before you leave, tell me who you are!" Brelyna shouted.
"A friend," the Nord replied curtly, "of the Dragonborn," and just as swiftly as she had arrived to the scene, she vanished between the lonely, snow-capped peaks of Winterhold.
A/N: So I decided to expand Riza's story further instead of leaving it as a standalone to accompany a follower mod I am doing (which is going nowhere in the meantime, because my friend who is providing Riza's voice is busy). I suddenly have an idea of where I want to bring this story. I apologize if there is a jarring change in style between the first and the second chapters - I wrote the first as a casual accompaniment to a screenshot and the second after actually formulating a story. The story may be moving along slowly thus far, but I promise things are going to explode with greater intensity in the coming chapters.
I've also uploaded a neat little cover picture to accompany the story. That's Riza wearing the fur armor right there. Yes, she's hot. Yes, it's also a shameless way of me trying to get more views!
As always, constructive feedback and criticisms are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!