Looking at her map under the shade of a rock face, Bastrii used her compass to help guess her location. Cartography was not her strong suit, but navigating the wild was. If she could just figure out where she wandered to, she could take a deer trail through the dense underbrush and make her way towards Arrowflash Pass. Or, to some, Ambush Pass.
Bastrii often wandered who named those little alcoves, and the thoughts that led up to it.
"What's taking so long? The sun is going to set soon! Don't you know where you're going, oh mighty Dragonbird?"
"It's Dragonborn, thank you. And yes, I do know where I'm going, just-"
Suddenly, a large orange hand from above snatched the map and compass from her fingers, making her gasp in shock.
"Let's see here… ah, yes. I know where to go."
Bastrii was silent, waiting for an answer. When none came, she spoke. "And that is?..."
"I'm pretty sure East."
"You're pretty sure East."
Midna giggled. "Well, if we went any other direction, we wouldn't be heading towards that pass you were mumbling about, now would we? Just head east, and follow the mountain until you find a road. I'm pretty sure it will be deep in there somewhere."
Bastrii sighed and groaned, heading forward.
"And make it fast! Anymore rain and it might slip into my pack."
Bastrii bit her tongue. At first she was afraid of making her way up the mountain. And now? After dealing with Midna for the past several hours? She'll fight her way through a dozen blizzards and a horde of dragons to dump her on the Graybeards. If the Graybeards have anything to offer other than 'good luck', of course.
The forest began to clear as Bastrii followed the deer trail through the steady downpour. As the trees broke up, the rain settled and a dull glimmer of hope filled her heart. There may be little light, but at least she's not trudging through the soaking rain for another hour. The minutes ticked by as the sun settled down the horizon, night swiftly kicking in.
With little choice left in the matter and dusk overtaking her, she set her pack down as quickly as she could to get the process underway. An angry yelp reached her ears, forgetting about her new travel companion in the briefest moment.
"Hey! Watch it, you could have hurt me! I'm not just some toy, can't you get that through your thick skull?" Midna yelled, tossing the flap of the bag open.
Bastrii glared as the Imp shot out of the bag, hovering unsteadily before her. "It's not even night yet! You can still see, keep walking! We don't have time to waste on another break."
"We're camping. I need rest. We've been trekking all day, and I need to find out where we are on the map."
"You can rest later. Camping now is stupid. The weather isn't that bad, you're already dressed – let's go."
"Midna, I'm not going to wear myself down to stick to your imaginary schedule. Time is important, yes, but I can't fight if I'm dead tired."
The Imp glared icy daggers at the Bosmer.
"You remind me of Link much too much for my own liking. The only difference is that you snap back more than he did."
Bastrii ignored her, finding a nice nook nearby as she unrolled her light leather tent and her bedroll. She assembled it all quickly, setting to work on gathering sticks and nearby fauna to build a fire before the last of the light is gone.
The pile ready, she withdrew a flint from her pack, striking the blunt of her dagger against it. She pushed the kindling in, hoping that it wasn't too wet to be useful.
Several frustrating minutes passed, as the Imp sat with her arms crossed on the bedroll.
"Just give up. The chances of you getting that fire going are about as likely as you being half the companion Link was."
Bastrii rolled her eyes back for a moment, clenching her teeth as she tried to fight for composure.
"Who is this Link you talk so fondly of?" Bastrii said, striking the flint again. If she could distract Midna with questions, she can't bite into into her ears with annoyances.
Midna stumbled for a moment, bumbling with her words.
"Link is… my friend. He is a really quiet man, strong. Resilient. Nearly tireless. And courageous beyond reason. He put his life on the line so many times just to save his friends, Hyrule is lucky to have him." Midna stared, her eyes a bit distant. Thinking of her close ally, now potentially worlds away.
"So you've been traveling like this before, huh? He must have been having such a wonderful time with you. He must be so sad that you're gone."
The fond memories were sapped from her mind at those biting words. She was quickly brought back to the reality of the situation. Hyrule was out of her reach, and with it being so far gone, so was her home. Her powers. Her Life.
"You can stop talking now, Dragonbird. Get your stupid campfire going. I'm going to sleep. Hopefully whenever we reach that mountain I'll have come up with a plan to return home."
"Thank the Divines." Bastrii whispered to herself. How did she come across such a horrible travel companion? Why is she the one cursed to deal with her?
The flint struck true and sparks rained onto the fine hairs of tinder before it. They gleamed brightly, a hint of smoke raising from the bundle. She breathed slowly into the forming ember, tucking it in a neat pile as a hearty flame was soon roaring before her.
"Finally."
She returned her flint to the pack, reaching in to find a ration.
Her brows furrowed as she took out a loaf of bread, half eaten. She glared at the Imp, who was now sleeping comfortably in her bed roll.
Groaning to herself, she tore off the bit that Midna had been consuming, and tossed it into the fire. She pulled a nearby log to the side, gently resting it before the flame as she sat on top. Off of the soaked forest floor.
Tonight wasn't going to be a good night's rest..
And indeed, it wasn't.
Dawn slowly broke the horizon, as Midna sat up in her bedroll. Stretching, she gave a tiny yawn as she reached for her magic.
Oh.
Finding it still weak, she managed an idle float – though much more steady than the day before. Luckily, the relic she wore on her head graced her with the powers contained within, but it didn't give her Magic. It gave her raw strength in the form of a hand from her head, when she needed it.
Breathing in, she tried to cast her familiar shadow magic once again. Her mind honed in to the darkness around her, pulling at its tenacity and incorporeality.
A flash of the malevolent energy formed in her hands, and they turned briefly to shadows, but not much else.
Midna groaned in frustration. It wasn't the first time, nor the last, she would do so. She let the magic trail away, running her hands over her unprotected head.
Her ears flicked. Where was her Fused Shadow?
A brief moment of panic filled her senses as she spun around in the tent, looking frantically for it. She almost cried out, until she spotted it on the blankets nearby. She didn't take it off, did she?
Speaking of taking off, where was that Hylian? Shouldn't she be asleep in here, too?
Midna brought herself free of the warm tent, looking around the clearing. The trees were a bit more sparse in this part of the forest, but it was still denser than Ordon. The foliage seemed different than what she was used to, and she quickly felt torn from home.
The morning cold bit into her, and she held her arms for warmth. The bushes rustled quietly, and her head turned to the distraction.
Bastrii backed out of the brush, tugging with her the heavy corpse of a deer. A whole deer. Antlers and all. Its lifeless eyes stared into the trees, the girl pulling its body near the campfire.
Midna winced at the sight. Its torso had a neat cut down the center, the contents of its chest empty. Her previous partner, Link, had killed and skinned rabbits before, but she's never seen a full deer mid-process. It almost made her sick.
"Oh. You're awake. Good Morning." Bastrii said, paying her little mind. "Want to help me make your new bedroll? Seems like you'll need some clothes, too, with where we're going."
Midna was silent, watching as the girl withdrew a length of rope from her pack. She pulled the deer to an unencumbered tree, splaying its legs to the open air and lifting it up high. Her knife came out, and she set to work skinning the creature. The viscera of the moment caught up to Midna, and she heaved by the side of the campfire.
"Hey! If you're not used to gore, puke in the bushes. I have to cook there!" Bastrii yelled, rolling her eyes. Oh, the little Imp could definitely keep up. "I thought you traveled?"
For a moment, Midna kept herself to the side, simply breathing. Bastrii resumed her work, fuming a bit. The Imp can't walk, can't share, and now she can't stomach a corpse? She must be green behind the ears.
Her companion floated to her side, watching with morbid curiosity as she worked. "I have traveled. But I haven't seen an animal like this treated so… harshly. Link is merciful, and doesn't eat much beyond small game. Besides, it shouldn't take long to reach the top of a mountain, huh? I can't imagine being very far."
"Midna," Bastrii began, sighing. "Skyrim is a very big place. It was a bit too dark to see the mountain through the trees last night, but now that dawn is upon us, maybe you should fly up and check?"
Midna nodded, ready to prove herself right. She floated up along the tall pines, the bitter chill of of the wind blasting against her uncovered body. At the very top of a tree, she stood – clenching the tallest branch with her hand.
To the East, towering before her in the distance, was a massive mountain. Probably the biggest she's ever seen in her life, bigger than anything she's ever seen in Hyrule. It felt so close, yet… when she looked at the details, she realized just how far of a journey it was. They had dozens of miles of terrain left unchecked, and looking up at the sky, it appeared as if another storm was headed their way.
Thunder roared in the distance, and she quickly slipped down beneath the trees. Bastrii had just finished skinning the deer, resting it over a large log by the campfire. She took her knife and began to run it across the fleshy side, scraping off stuck fat and membrane.
"Midna, will you pull the brain from the skull for me? I'm going to have to do a rough job and brain this during fire tanning."
"Brain?..."
"Yes, mix it with water, and grind it into the flesh of the pelt. Keeps it soft during and after a fire tan. Haven't you learned anything from that Link you've been talking about? Or do you just sleep in his backpack, too?"
Midna glared at Bastrii. Okay. Challenge her, that's fine. She can laugh that off. But don't bring her friend into it.
Bastrii offered her a bowl and a thick knife, which she took without hesitation. If some little Hylian girl can do it, then so can she. Making her way to the corpse, she looked over the lifeless head for a clear point of entry.
She considered going for the eye. But they looked at her, and she really didn't want to… pop it. If that's what happened when you poke an eye with a knife.
She looked at the throat. It was cut horizontally across, a deep slit that lashed the arteries beneath. Below it was a vertical line that went down to its hips.
She hesitated for several moments, Bastrii's knife stopping mid scrape.
"How can you not understand the basics of skinning an animal? Nearly everyone hunts for themselves or their family." Bastrii thought, silently standing up. She made her way beside her, taking the oddly shaped knife from the Imp's hand.
"Okay, I'll teach you. First, you want to take the knife, and run it clear across the base of the skull, like this."
She quickly circled the curved knife around the neck, exposing the spine with a few deft movements of her hands. "Next, you take the knife, and turn it upside down so the blade is facing you, and you bury the tip of the knife into the column of the neck, here."
The tip pressed against the bone. "When you've got a good angle, turn it to get some room, then slam down and forward. Like this."
She brought the knife horizontal, the tip digging deep between the vertebrae. Her free hand slammed into the hilt, popping the spine upwards as her blade went forwards, severing the spine as the head came loose. She grabbed it by the antler, turning it upside down.
Midna gagged.
"Now with the tip of the blade, following the spine upward from the inside and pop it in. Then you twist, until this fragile section of the skull follows… like this..."
She pulled a piece of bone free from the head. "Then you brain it. Like so. Take your knife and sever it at the base of the brain. Try to avoid the last vertebrae, as it can dull the blade or even chip it. Just dig out this piece of bone, and then you slop it into the bowl."
She did just that, pressing the gooey brain into the wooden bowl with ease. Midna could take no more. She quickly turned away, finding a nearby tree to gag in peace. Bastrii could only click her tongue, bringing the bowl and skull to the campfire.
Taking the skull to the flame, she rested it over the embers – the antlers resting to the side away from the heat. She set back to work on the pelt, keeping a wary eye on the sky.
Midna soon returned, looking a shade pale, but less distraught than before.
"Back already? Good. Then you can mash the brains. Fill the bowl about halfway up with water before you do." She handed her the bowl, gesturing to her pack with a flick of her eyes. "There should be a pestle next to the canteen."
"Why? Why do we need… blended brain to make a simple bedroll? Isn't a bit of fire enough?" The Imp avoided eye contact with the goo-filled bowl, holding it shakily in her hands. She was used to a bit of gore, but nothing to this extreme.
"It softens the leather and makes it flexible. We're going to be drying out a lot of the moisture in the flesh, and the brain contains a lot of fat. This will soak oil into the skin and keep it loose, more so than just rubbing raw grease into it."
Midna sighed, rolling her eyes as she made her way over to the pack. Why did she have to do this? Why couldn't that damn pointy ear girl do it? She was half tempted to just toss the brain at her and leave on her own.
But something told her that leaving an… Elf with survival skills to run off on an adventure was a bad idea. Especially considering she had no real magic to speak of. And she had no leads. Bastrii was at least going to head up into the mountain to talk to some ancient light dwellers about the dragons, and if she knew anything, it's that wise old men know more secrets than most.
She found the pestle, and quickly set to work. Her hair morphed into a magical hand, with the aid of the Twisted Shadow she wore as a helmet. She used it to hold the brains, breathing in a deep breath as she steadied herself for what's next.
Okay. Water. She poured in just a bit from the canteen, until the… thing was floating. She corked the bottle and dropped it on the bag, holding the pestle in her hands. Shakily, she pressed down into the brain with a wet squelch, closing her eyes as thoughts ran rapid through her mind.
A creature's life, its memory, all of those moments of survival, exploration, love, and instinct. All in her giant hair fingers. And she was grinding it to a pulp with some bone. If this had been months ago, she wouldn't have cared. She would have done this easily, without a second thought. Who cares what happened to others, as long as she had her way?
Now? She felt a bit guilty.
But mostly grossed out.
"This is the most disgusting thing I've ever done, and that includes everything vile that happened in my journey with Link." She said to herself. Bastrii's ears flicked.
"At least I didn't ask you to help me make string from the sinew. I didn't sleep much last night, so I had plenty of time to bind some by the fire. Just in time, too – much longer and I'd have to stitch your jerkin with dense bindings."
Bastrii quickly set up a few loose branches, a good distance above the flame. She tested it with a hand, before breaking off several inches off the tip of each pole and adding them to the fire. Using some extra twine, she bound more sticks, forming a nice large rectangle.
She fit the contraption over the poles, tying it off before tossing the pelt over it; wet side down, of course.
"The smoke will clear out any fleas or ticks left in the pelt, but this far north of Cyrodil, it's unlikely there's many bugs. Let's just hope we can finish this before the storm hits. Word is that Falkreath is known for its stormy weather, and I'd very much like to be packed up and on the road before the rain can slow us down."
"Is all of this really necessary? It's a massive waste of time. We could have been halfway up that stupid mountain by now if we kept walking. I can just sleep in your backpack, I don't need a bedroll." Midna complained. Bastrii glared.
"As much as I'd love carrying you all the way up there, there's not going to be enough room in my pack to hold you and the food we'll need to reach the top. If you didn't already know, Falkreath is the most Southern Hold across Skyrim, but its fair climate isn't due to its position above Cyrodil. It's still very much below sea level, and that mountain is at least… thousands of feet tall. Its covered in snow for a reason.
"Not much can survive a low air, freezing, blizzard climate without being incredibly deadly to begin with. Wolves, Trolls, and at this point? There could even be a dragon somewhere on those peaks. If I forgot the food, we could starve our way up there – but it's at least a week's journey, and I don't think either of us have the fat for that.
"If I didn't make you something to at least try and keep you warm, like a robe or jerkin of some sort, you would freeze to death before we made it to the first snow lined ridge. I don't have the coin to just buy one for you. Maybe you should slow down and think. If we rush in, we'll die. If we take too long, everyone will die. This is the fastest option."
Midna groaned. So it's because she'll freeze, huh? She's tough. Well, with her magic, she's immune to most of it – a simple phasing spell, and nothing can harm her, not even the strongest wind. But with what magic she has, she can't maintain it for more than a few moments. At best, light levitation is all she can pull off. All of her more useful spells require more than she has to bargain with.
She thought back to her companion. Link would do, and say, the same thing. Except Link had the money to simply purchase what was needed, instead of doing it all by scratch. The similarities were there, she thought.
"Alright. Fine. We'll do it your way."
Bastrii was a bit stunned. That was much faster than she anticipated.
"Good. Look, I understand things are different from where you're from, but I'm only bringing you along just to get you home. Nothing more. I'm not your friend. I just don't want to be responsible for you dying, after I spent all of my energy raising you from the brink."
Midna avoided her look. She forgot about that.
"Understood. The feeling is mutual." The Imp said, sitting on thin air. Drumming her fingers along her shoulder. She'll wait… for now.
And so they waited. Bastrii kept herself busy with preparations, counting her arrows. Twenty seven. She grimaced at the thought of running out, considering she didn't have a sidearm. She took inventory of what she had, then sat down with her needle and thread.
She was going to fix that broken buckle on her bracer, even if it killed her. She narrowed her eyes, concentrating on the leather before her.
"What are you doing?" Midna asked, seemingly bored with her wait. With nothing to do, all she could think of was to pester her guide.
"Trying to fix my bracer. It snapped when a bandit's blade made a cut for me. Luckily, it only broke the buckle, and not the skin beneath. Nor my shirt."
She motioned to the dark green shirt she wore under her leather armor. "It's my last shirt from home. I don't want to lose it just yet."
Midna eventually settled down by the fire, sighing. Might as well be more talkative.
"Where are you from?" She asked the Hylian beside her. Well, she's not Hylian, but looks like one – minus the eyes. She would soon start calling her an Elf, or Bosmer, whatever she referred to herself as, with time.
"I was born in the land of Valenwood, far to the south of here. My Mother, a Nord, raised me – while my Father hunted and adhered to the Green Pact, and brought home our meals. It was a bit comical to see my Dad standing near my Mom. The size difference was immense. I'm surprised she ever fell in love with him, with how bullheaded he was."
She pricked her finger as she pierced the leather, wincing. "I guess I should tell you a bit more about my home. We lived south of Sylvenar – a central hub for the believers of the Green Pact. Valenwood is a massive, spiraling forest – untouched by hands for decades, and left to grow of its own accord. And the Green Pact is the religion Wood Elves, or Bosmer, follow.
"It essentially entails leaving the land to the spirit of Nature and only consuming meat. And while I do love meat, I just can't stand eating it all the time. I think I picked that up from my Mom, who couldn't adhere to the Pact even if she wanted to. It was just too much to give up potatoes for her, or herbs for seasoning."
She smiled triumphantly as she held up the fixed bracer, strapping it on to her left arm. "Much better." She turned to the pelt, pulling it off of the fire as she set it on the log. Using the fatty brain balm, she smeared it quickly across the slightly smokey leather, looking up at the Imp between her work.
"What about you? Tell me about Hyrule."
Midna thought it over, nodding. "Hyrule is a bit like here, except… there's a lot of plains in the center, and the forest clings to the southern edge. It's very big, but uh… not as big as Skyrim. And nowhere near as lush in some places. Hyrule takes only a few days to cross by horse, the country isn't very noteworthy beyond that."
Bastrii's ear flicked. "You don't know much about your land, huh? You seem sheltered."
Midna nodded. "You could say that, yes."
"So what about Ordon? You mentioned it once, is that the Town you lived in?"
"Village, and I guess so. But I hardly spent much time there, most of my days were whittled away by Link's side. We visited occasionally, especially after a few harsh injuries and he needed time to clear his head."
"And this Link fellow… who is he? He sounds like he has an important job. I know he's your friend. What else/"
The question finally came. How could she describe Link? She couldn't just call him her slave, that would be a bit… harsh. Friend seemed to fit the moment she brought him up the other day. She'll go with that.
"Yes, he was my friend. He was helping me out with a quest of my own. He's kinda like you in a way-"
"I thought you mentioned that. Is he a Bosmer too? I wouldn't be surprised to learn that you're simply from a different country."
"No no, he's a Hylian. He has these… blue eyes. That just pierce your soul. And he may be young, but he's already taller than you for sure. And Hylians come in all shapes and sizes, too – you just happen to look like one, I guess. Or Bosmer do. It's confusing."
Minutes passed in relative silence. The occasional comment passing between the two. Finally, Bastrii pulled the pelt from the fire, scooping a bit of ash from it as she smeared it in on top of the warm leather.
"And that does?..."
"Dries up the excess oil, and seals it. Prevents it from rotting out." She held up the large, person sized pelt, giving it a sharp flick to remove the last of the trapped ash.
"C'mere. I have to size you."
"You can't be serious."
"You want it to fit?" She said, placing her knife in her mouth. Minda sighed, floating over.
"Just don't touch me anywhere weird, and we'll be fine."
"No intention to, Princess." Bastrii said sarcastically. Midna winced a bit, but turned around. She didn't expect that comment.
A twist, a twirl, and a few quick slashes and Bastrii was working on stitching up not just a shirt, but a pair of pants, too.
"If you know how, go ahead and start tearing down camp. This shouldn't take more than half an hour. And make sure everything is bound tightly and put in the bag. A wet tent will not keep us warm."
Midna didn't like Bastrii for sure, now. Link never gave her orders. She gave him orders. Then again, their relationship was under different circumstances.
But she did it with only a few angry grunts, using her large hand to quickly undo Bastrii's work.
And as the sun began to fully eclipse the horizon and dawn passed, Bastrii had finished smoking the rations under a fresh, green-leaf burning fire. Several pounds of venison, a heavy burden on her already packed bag. It didn't matter, it would be much too light soon for the both of them, as she finished stitching up a small bedroll for her temporary accomplice.
"Ready?" Bastrii said, as Midna tied off the pack. The Imp admired her work for a moment.
Now that she thought about it, she didn't do a half bad job. Everything was tightly packed, and organized – something she didn't even consider until she fell into the flow of her work.
"Here, try these." She offered the small outfit to the Imp, who snatched it up in her giant hand. She looked over the jacket – it was split down the middle, with three bone buttons. A bit gruesome, but definitely warm, with the fur lining the inside to keep all of her little heat in. The pants had a twine belt, and seemed to fit her.
She couldn't help herself but try it on. It was the first time she had a chance to wear clothes since she was cursed to this form. Everything, while quickly made, fit well – not even an inch to grow, like she could. She gave a genuine smile, but quickly hid it.
"It works," Midna said nonchalantly.
Bastrii waited for a moment. Then said simply, "You're welcome."
She hefted the bag, resting it on her back – right under her cloak. "And thank you for packing my bag."
Midna didn't respond, adjusting her jacket. She didn't realize how cold she was until she put on the warm, comforting leather.
Bastrii stomped the fire out with her boot, shouldering her bow as she began forward.
For the first time since her journey began with Link, Midna would have to travel in the open air. She suddenly felt very vulnerable, especially as Bastrii began to feed into it.
"Look, I know you're not as experienced as you think. I get it. You don't have to be experienced to start. My Dad taught me since I was little, so I'll try to pass it on to you. Got it? It could save your life one day. All you have to do, is cooperate with me, and we can make this work until I get you home. But you need to know this.
"Skyrim is a very, very dangerous place. If it's not the wildlife out for your head, it's nature. If it's not nature, it's bandits. If it's not bandits, it's draugar. If it's not all of the above, it's something more malicious than what I can think of, and I can think of a lot.
"I don't expect you to fight. You said you can do magic, but it's very weak. So I'll rule that out. You have some strength in that weird… arm thing of yours, but I don't want you to be a target. I ask that you stay back, and offer support where you can. That's all I need of you.
"From now on, we're a party. A team. We have to stick together, especially if we want to make it through this frozen hell we're about to step into. I'm going to rely on you, just like you rely on me. Okay? If there's even a single misstep at the wrong moment, we could both very well die. Understood?"
Midna nodded. "That's a rather heroic speech for someone so small and young."
Bastrii blinked. "I'm thirty five."
Midna furrowed her brow. "You don't look like it. You look twenty, at best, Miss Stunning Good Looks."
"I'm going to pretend that was a compliment. Bosmer, like all elves, can live to be three hundred years old. Though Bosmer tend to die before then, from war typically."
"Shouldn't you be, I don't know… smaller, then? Like a child?" Midna leaned forward, as if on the edge of an imaginary bed. Holding her stomach as she gazed down at her Guide, a foot dangling upwards in the air.
"Just because we live to be three hundred doesn't mean we age at a third of the rate. And how old do you live to be, huh? You said you were cursed. How long are you supposed to live for?" She stopped at a nearby branch, quickly snapping it free from the tree. It cracked easily, and gave little bend. Straight, and perfect for walking.
"A Twili can live to be one hundred, and no more."
"And how old are you?" Bastrii smiled. She may have found a nerve.
Midna glared, turning up her nose. "I'm afraid I'm not allowed to tell you such private information."
"So less than thirty five."
This drew a glower from the leather clad Imp, her eyes a burning fury – ready to argue. But she was interrupted by Bastrii's laughter, the Wood Elf's mouth bent in a large smile.
"I don't care about your age, Midna. Age means very little. It's experience I care about."
"Twenty two." Midna said, defiant. "I'm twenty two years of age. And I'm much more beautiful when I'm less cursed, Dragonbird."
Bastrii didn't speak, mulling it over in her head.
"So it is less than thirty five." She smiled. And that's when the argument began.
