The Betrayed

Her temple was under attack, her parishioners were under attack- She could not save them from what was likely assaulting them, so she looked Eola in the eye. "Tell them to flee through the back exit. I'll be gone as well. I'll send for you when I have found a proper place to worship Her. A safe place to worship her."

Eola nodded, then left. Thank goodness her handmaiden always wore her leathers. It would protect her. Trygga raised her hand, fingers intricately dancing with each other. She would need a protection spell. She didn't normallu wear armor, preferring instead to keep to simple, dark robes that hugged her form, along with a dark corset over it. Clothing left her free to cast her spells, and it was easier to clean than armor. Namira's usual abodes did not suit cleanliness very well, and, unlike her brethren, Trygga enjoyed the feeling of being clean.

She gathered the scroll up tying it with a cord from her small study table, then picked up her bag. It was an old backpack, almost too worn to use, but she had trusted it with all of her worldly posessions from the time she was a little girl. She's had to repair it a few times, but, to her, it was still the same sturdy bag she had owned for fifteen years. She opened it, placing the scroll, rations for five days, and her clothes into it. She also added Ilena's medallion, as well as the preserved skull of a rat that she kept on a chain. The skull she had made when she was first accepted into Namira's cult, and it served to remind her who she served. She hadn't worn it since she became the Prince's handmaiden, but she held onto it still.

Other than that, she had little she wished to take with her. Her eye caught on the Book of Daedra that she kept, but she shook her head. She could purchase another one, though she relished having te book with her. She would need to burn her room, though. Too much that could be used to trace who she was, and the invaders most likely didn't know yet who was the Handmaiden, here.

A flame alit her finger,. She swirled it lazily in her palm, then breathed it to life onto her bedlinens. They caught fire instantly, her breath containing a bit of wind magic to hasten the process of the burn. She left the room, closing the iron door behind her, then set off down the corridor the room was in. She had only made it a few steps when she saw one of the intruders upon her home of two years. He was wearing the green-colored armor of a Markarth guard. The city guards had come to crash Namira's den.

He turned to her. "You there! You are a worshipper of Namira! You'll face trial for your crimes against the people of Skyrim!" He brandished his blade at her, his shield high and ready to defend him.

In response to his challenge, she smirked and cooed softly, her illusion magic working upon his mind and easing his tension. "Be calm, young man. This is no reason to war. I am not your enemy. This place is your home." With each word she stepped closer to the man, until she was right next to him. She pulled out a slim knife.

"You see this knife? Is it not so beautiful?" The guard nodded. "How about you take off your helm so you can see it better?"

She left the man in a pool of blood, spilling from his own neck.

She felt no remorse killing him. Her family, her friends were in danger. They were her only familly, and she would slaughter for them. She fed them, she nurtured them, she was the conduit for their deity for them. She would do anything for her family.

The next hall she walked down was empty, which was good. There was a niche in this hallway, with a lever. She pulled the lever up, twisted it, then depressed it.

On her side, a doorway opened from the wall. It was a secret entrance that only she knew about, so that if one of her parishioners had betrayed her, she could flee without needing to worry about them finding her. She was not in the cult of Boethiah, but she did not wish to be betrayed by someone who resented her. She knew she evoked resentment from some of the followers of Namira. Eola had told her as such, and the distrustful glares she got from some confirmed it. She didn't return their resentment, but she was mindful of it. Thus, this entrance.

She stepped through the doorway, pressing a button on the other side, also in a niche in the wall. The door closed, leaving her in darkness. Her hand raised, and a light appeared. It glowed, illuminating a dusty path littered with webbing and husks of dead creatures. It never bothered her, though it was something she would wash herself of, when she had the time/

She walked further down the corridor, occasionally brushing against the webs and having them catch on her clothes. Sometimes she would push aside one of the dead husks with a foot, but that was rare, she stepped carefully, she did not want to trip.

She heard skittering coming from the end of the passage. She wasn't sure what it was, but she did not fear it, either. It made the sound of something that men would revile, thus, her patron most likely would assist her in dealing with it. And, especially if it were one of her patrons creatures, she did not wish to end its life.

She reached the end of the corridor, looking out over a small cavern from the ledge that her corridor ended upon. Across from her corridor was the entrance to another. She was maybe ten feet off of the floor, and below her skittered around Frostbite Spiders, creatures native to Skyrim. She silently prayed to Namira that she would not be harassed by the creatures.

Namira responded by having the spiders move aside for her, their chittering and skittering sounding like music to her ears. She lowered herself to the lip of the cliff edge, grasping it firmly, then turned and dropped down so she was hanging from her hands. It was still a three foot fall, but that wasn't a severe drop. She let go, landing in a crouch.

She wasn't physically active, so the drop felt jarring, but it did not faze her, and she continued on, stopping to give a pat on one of the spiders' heads before she continued on.

Her steps were quiet as she traversed the last distance to get to the outside world, and when she finally reached the end of the narrow tunnel, she sighed in relief to see a small door. She pushed it open, to come out into Skyrim's frigid air. She breathed deeply, her eyes closing as she took in the scent of her homeland. She opened them to look down. She only saw one person below her vantage point on top of the rocky hill, and it was dressed as a Markarth guard. She would have to find a way to move around him. She muttered the spell to conceal herself under her breath, then she stepped quietly away from her position at the cave entrance.

Her spell for invisibility lasted a minute, which was enough to get her away from the man standing outside of her home. She might have to move a bit quickly, but it would be no major difficulty to avoid him.

She cane to a stop in her walking, softly gasping for breath. She was not used to physical activity, and she had to stop for the day. She laid down with her back against one of Markarth Hold's Juniper tres. They were good shade when the sun came up, and they weren't bad at concealing a body at night. She didn't wish to be prey to bandits or thieves.

Before she slept, she bent her head to see if she could contact her Prince. The prayer was simple. "My Lady, I wish an audience. I thank you."

It was not long until she was lulled into a trance.

Inside of the void, she stood on the same stone slab. Her Lady was sitting on her throne, still, with the same creatures in the shadowy expanse around her, and the same vermin around her queen. It was a fmiliar sight, for her. She knelt in fron of her deity. "My lady. I trust that you know what happened?"

"Rise, my Handmaiden. Yes, I do know what happened. My creatures infest the area around my former temple. You will find me a new temple, as I know you already desired to do. Eola, your handmaiden, will ensure that you are served as befits one of my Priestesses, I am sending her to you now. It is dangerous for you to be alone in the wilds, my pet, you know this." Her dark lady smiled, then stood from her seat. "I know the dark thoughts in your heart, my pet, and I accept them"

Trygga quirked her brow at the comment, then shrugged it off. She stood. "I do wish to find us a new temple, my Queen. I do not wish for my brethren to be aimless, and I wish to protect them. It may be more difficult, now, for us to have our normal lives, but it is a small price to pay, for me and Eola, at least. The others, I do not know. I pray that some of our others would join us."

Namira smiled. "It is alright, if they do not join you. I understand, some of my followers cannot uproot themselves for my sake alone. The ones I give personal audience to, however... Those, I demand unwavering loyalty from." Her stare was piercing, though Trygga did not feel insecure from it. It was a stare that had been levelled at her before, during her first audience with the Lady of Decay. "I know that you are loyal, Trygga, and I rely on that loyalty to ensure that my followers are not led astray. Oh, yes, and... How did you find my servant, Ilena? She came to me after those burns devastated her. I was the only deity to accept her, and I have given her my favor."

Trygga started to speak, but faltered. "My Lady, I-" She ducked her head. "She is a perfect candidate to be one of your priestesses, my lady."

She did not see the look on her face, but she heard the disapproval in her tone. "Trygga, you are a priestess of mine, Do not shy away from me, nor the questions I ask." There was an air of command to her statement, and Trygga raised her head to retunr her gaze to the woman on the throne.

"Forgive me, my Lady. It returned me to the questions I had regarding why you chose me. I still do not understand." Trygga quirked her mouth in annoyance, but continued. "I don't know why I have your favor, my Lady, and I doubt I ever will. I feel as if, beside someone such as her, I would seem... Unseemly, to you."

Namira laughed. A strong laugh, and one she had not heard before. It shocked her. "You honestly think of me as such, my pet? No, I do not have you as my priestess because you are unseemly to the rest of the world. I know this, and, while your countenance I do not approve of, your heart is what I am after. You have more will than many men or mer. I do not wish for that will to be bent against me, and I delight in what you use it for in serving me. I shall not take away your vanity, I am not that cruel. I do, however, require you to protect my worshippers, and guide them along the path I wish for them to take, which you have done admirably. I gave you the title "Handmaiden", for a reason. Ilena was my priestess, yet she defers to you. The title of Handmaiden has more meaning than just that of a priestess, which is why Eola also defers to you."

"I know that you are confused. It will be revealed to you, in time. You are my Handmaiden, and my blessing is upon you. Come, here. Sit on my dais." Namira beckoned to her.

Trygga hesitantly stepped forward, then grew in confidence as she continued, finally coming to a stop in front of her queen, taking a seat on the stone dais, holding her hand out for a small spider to crawl onto. She gently stroked the creature with her index finger, and softly cooing to it.

Namira smiled, and she felt her deity's smile upon her. "You are kind to my creatures." Her hand gently brushed through Trygga's hair.

Trygga, for her part, stiffened at the contact, gasping in surprise. She hadn't expected the touch, and it startled her. "My- My lady?" She stammered out.

Her goddess laughed again, another shock. "Oh, Trygga, you are a gem. I think, though, that I should not tax your psyche much longer, so sleep, my pet. Sleep long and deep, and do not let troubles disturb you. You will be watched by one of my pets, tonight, until the morning comes. Eola will find you, then."

Trygga nodded her affirmation. "Yes, my lady. I'll have to delay the summoning of you, though I think that it best if I summon you on your consecrated day."

Namira spoke in agreement. "That would be for the best. Sleep, my Handmaiden."