At the first light of dawn, Estelle was up and looking for her old camp. After about an hour of searching and backtracking, she let out an audible sigh of relief when she found it. Since she brought her bag with her when she left the camp the night before, all that remained when she returned were a few charred logs, her tent, her bedroll and a single book.
She knelt beside her bedroll and picked up the book the lay on top of it; On Daedric Curses by Eloise Lalune. She had been rereading this the night before, when she heard the distant scream. She wasn't sure why. She had already read it gods knew how many times already, and she found nothing that helped her with her own research. Maybe because it was one of the few traces of her mother that remained on Nirn. Whatever the reason, she put the book into her bag and headed north.
She realized that she very easily could have hired a courier to take her delivery to the College of Winterhold, but something inexplicable was telling her to do it herself, and she rarely disregarded her instincts. Although if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't something inexplicable, she had to go through Skyrim to get to High Rock. Granted, Winterhold was in the opposite direction of High Rock, but it was still the closest she had been to home in awhile. She wondered how her father and sister were doing. She wondered if her sister Cherise had officially become a Priestess of Mara. Probably. She wondered if her father remarried. Probably not. But mostly, she wondered if they wanted to see her again. Probably not. They made it clear they didn't approve of her joining the Vigilants of Stendarr and they hadn't spoken since. She had spent the last few years running around Cyrodiil and Morrowind slaughtering werewolves, vampires, cultists, and any other abominations of the Daedric princes. She had hoped venturing with them would give her clues to help her fulfill her destiny, but she found slaughtering was all they did. She was a scholar, first and foremost. Perhaps that was also a reason she was being drawn to Skyrim, Winterhold in particular. They had a fine college, or so she heard, maybe spending time there would help her complete her research.
And then her mind went to the young werewolf she met the night before. She was beginning to regret leaving so hastily without finding out where she could meet him again. The pain she saw when she looked into his eyes indicated that he was a victim, not a monster. It was people like him that began her on her mission in the first place. Perhaps he would be willing to help her on her mission, although he clearly wasn't a scholar. For the brief time that she spent with him, she remembered the woman she was before she joined the Vigilants; before she became a cold-blooded killer. Then again, if she was to complete her mission, perhaps it is best if she remained a cold-blooded killer. Surely, such a task could not be done be a compassionate woman. Perhaps it was best if she didn't see Vilkas again. But she would leave that to fate.
After several hours of travel, she came across some soldiers. That's right, Skyrim was in the middle of a civil war. These didn't look like the legion uniforms, so they must be the rebel faction. She kept her head low and kept moving. The soldiers seemed to content with this, but she could feel their eyes on her as she walked past them. She didn't think she was even twenty paces from the group when the first arrow flew and struck one of the rebel soldiers. Within seconds, the quiet afternoon was broken by the sounds screaming soldiers and clashing steel.
Estelle turned on her heel and ran in the opposite direction. She had only made it a few steps when an arrow pierced her in the back of the leg and she stumbled to the ground. She rolled over to see two legionnaires descending upon her, brandishing swords. Her hands lit up with purple and black magicka and a portal opened up between her and the soldiers and a frost atronach stepped out. Estelle tried to mend her wound as the atronach fought for her, but it soon became apparent that the rebels had lost. When the atronach went back to Oblivion, and she still couldn't stand up with the arrow still stuck in her leg, it became apparent that she lost too. Some soldiers dragged her off the ground and starting binding her hands.
"What is the meaning of this?" She snarled.
"You are under arrest for treason."
"Treason?" her voice rose with every word "I'm not a rebel! You just attacked a civilian! You are the ones that should be punished for…"
And with one swift crack on the head from the hilt of the sword, she was out cold.
/
The sound of constant grinding filled Estelle's ears as she slowly returned to consciousness. She brought her hands up to rub her eyes awake, only to find that they were bound together. She looked around and saw that she was aboard a wagon with three men, all of whom had their hands bound as well.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Estelle groaned as her memory returned.
"Hey you, you're finally awake." She seemed to have caught the attention of the young rebel soldier sitting in front of her "You were trying to cross the border, walked right into that Imperial ambush."
There was almost amusement in his tone, and this annoyed Estelle greatly. There was nothing funny about this.
"Damn you, Stormcloaks! Skyrim was just fine until you came along! The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The man next to the soldier said.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."
"Shut up back there." The driver said.
"What's with him?" The thief said to the man next to Estelle, who had remained silent due to his gag.
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!"
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you… Oh Gods! Where are they taking us?"
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."
"No, this can't be happening, this isn't happening!"
Estelle clenched her fists. As soon as the legion found out she was neither a rebel nor a thief, they would have to let her go, right? Although this wouldn't solve all of her problems, as she didn't know the whereabouts of her traveling gear. If she ended up losing her delivery because of this mix up, there would be Oblivion to pay.
"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"
"What do you care?"
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
"Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead."
She wasn't a Nord, and she was certainly hoping these would not be her last thoughts, but still, her mind went back to her childhood home…
/
"Now, say you're sorry and I'll send it back!" Estelle said smugly with her arms crossed.
But the little girl cowering behind the tree seemed too frightened to even speak, as the spectral wolf at Estelle's side snarled at her. But that was alright, even if she didn't get her apology, the message was clear. But her power trip was short-lived as the spectral wolf whimpered and disappeared.
"Hey, what the…?" But when Estelle saw the furious look on her mother's face, her smug expression turned to one of fear.
"Estelle! What do you think you're doing? How could you do that to your little sister?"
The frightened child ran crying into her father's arms.
"It's not my fault. Cherise was reading my diary again! I told her not to do that!"
"I don't care what she did, you do not threaten your sister with something you summoned from Oblivion! Ever!"
"Estelle, go to your room, we will figure out your punishment later!" Her father snarled.
Estelle trudged back to the house. She went to her room and sat on her bed and picked up her diary. Stupid Cherise. She was probably going to tell everyone that she had a crush on Olivier. Or worse, that she had been snooping around her mother's study to try to learn magic. Although she was pretty sure her mother already knew about that by now. After some time passed, there was a knock on the door.
"Go away!"
"Estelle? It's your mother. I promise I'm not going to yell at you if you let me in."
"Okay." Estelle said, but when her mother came into the room, she didn't look at her.
"I just wanted to ask you where you learned to summon a familiar."
"A spell book in your study."
Her mother raised an eyebrow as she sat down next to her.
"You promised you wouldn't yell."
"I'm not, but you know I don't want you in there. I do have a lot of important and sometimes dangerous experiments going on in there."
"I know, that's why I never touch anything else. Just the books. Anyway, I found the one about summoning a familiar, and I thought it looked easy, so I tried it."
"I see, not many ten year olds can do that. I think you are destined to be a fine mage, even among Bretons."
Estelle smiled a little "You really think so?"
Her mother smiled back "I do. Since the day you were born, under the sign of the Serpent, I've always believed you were destined for something great. However, if you ever do what you did today, you won't live to see what that destiny is, you got that?"
Estelle rolled her eyes "Fine."
/
"Huh?" Estelle said.
"I said 'who are you?'" The young legion soldier said to her.
Estelle shook her thoughts away and spoke. "My name is Estelle Lalune. I'm a Vigilant of Stendarr and a Daedric scholar. I was on my way to Winterhold to make a delivery when I got caught up in an ambush."
"Hm, doesn't seem like you should be here. Captain? What should we do? She's not on the list!"
"Forget the list. She goes to the block."
Estelle blinked "Excuse me?"
"I heard about you. You released a daedra on the Imperial legion."
For a moment, Estelle was too stunned to speak "You attacked me, I defended myself!"
"A likely excuse."
"You can't do this! Do you even realize what you're doing? I am engrossed in incredibly important research, and to kill me would be throw it all away."
"Research?"
"I am searching for a way to permanently kill the Daedric Princes!"
Nearly everyone within earshot erupted in laughter. Estelle simply continued to stare with a straight face at the captain. It's not like she wasn't used to this.
"Get her out of my sight."
Estelle moved with the other prisoners.
"Did you really think a story like that would work?" the rebel soldier that had sat in front of her on the wagon said. Turned out his name was Ralof.
"It isn't a story, that really was the focus of my research."
"Well, if you see them when you die, maybe you can ask them how to kill them."
Estelle said nothing. She knew he was making a joke, but she didn't feel like humoring him. She heard there were people who coped with grim situations with humor, but she was not one of those people. She spoke not a word as the next few moments past. So this was what her life and years of study would accumulate to; nothing. She was to die before making a dent in her research or doing anything useful besides ridding the world of a few cultists. Destined for something great indeed. Her anger had turned cold by the time they called her to the block. But as she waited for death, a black creature in the sky caught her attention. The creature landed on the building behind the executioner, and just as he was about to drop the axe on her neck, the creature let out a roar that shook the ground beneath her feet, sending the executioner flying. Her destiny, it would seem, was just beginning.