Chapter 3 – Walking the thin line
Evening of 17th Last Seed, Solitude Docks
The night was falling on the city of Solitude, its buildings and walls overlooking the large port situated in the Karth river bay. Due to the civil war, the docks, usually bustling with activity, now seemed dead, completely devoid of people, with the exception of the guardsmen and a few dockworkers. The only major event was the arrival of an argosy from Northpoint just a few hours before sunset. The large vessel called The Sea Wolf was sitting quietly beside another great ship, The Red Wave, as the dockworkers unloaded its cargo.
No one, not even the bored guardsmen, noticed a young woman running along the shore, far away from the others, not even a man following her shortly after.
As soon as the gates of the city closed behind her, Illdi ran as fast as her legs allowed her. She could not stand it anymore; the jeering, the hate, the bullying, the entire damned Bards College. The young apprentice always knew she was not very liked at the College but the longer she stayed the worse it got.
Illdi had given up entirely on holding back tears that welled uncontrollably in her eyes.
They all hated her; she had no idea why but they did, especially Aia, Dean Pantea Ateia's favorite who never missed an opportunity to make her stay at the College miserable. And no one ever came to her defense, like if she was not worthy of anyone's attention. Not even the Headmaster Viarmo would help her. The others did not show it, unlike Aia and sometimes even Pantea, but they despised her all the same, she just knew it.
As she fled the city, she ran into one of the guards. The man was nearly knocked off his feet by the impact. "What in Oblivion is wrong with you, girl?!" He demanded angrily.
Illdi did not stop to apologize. She did not want to talk to anybody; the only thing on her mind was finding her special spot at the Karth River she would seek out whenever the frustration became too much for her. Watching the waters flowing slowly to the Sea of Ghosts had a calming effect on her, plus she could have a good cry without anyone seeing her.
Faster than Illdi believed possible, her legs carried her to the small patch of land on the river's bank; it was situated near the docks but a group of large rocks would hide her from any prying eyes. The moment she reached the place, Illdi collapsed on the ground in tears, hugging her knees as she cried. She was not willing to admit it before but now she knew; coming to Solitude was a mistake. It would probably be best if she just packed up and left. It was not like the others would take notice, she surmised, they never cared for her anyway.
The girl perked up as she caught the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming. Illdi began panicking. Was it someone from the college? And if so, how did they know where she had gone? She did not want to give them another reason to mock her.
Her fears were confirmed when she recognized the intruder that emerged from behind the rocks that shielded her.
It was the Redguard Ataf, her fellow pupil at the Bards College. Though younger than her, he was in good graces of most people at the College, something she failed to achieve no matter how hard she tried. "What are you doing here, Illdi?" Ataf questioned.
Illdi ignored the hint of worry in his voice. "Go away." She croaked, her voice trembling.
"You're crying." The young Redguard observed. No shit, Illdi thought bitterly. "What happened? Did Aia bother you again?"
"I want to be alone, Ataf!"
"Oh, don't be like that, Illdi. You know you can talk to me about whatever is bothering you, right?"
Illdi was not moved by Ataf's caring demeanor and encouraging smile. It was all a mask, anyway. She knew too well what he was after. It was no secret that the Redguard was something of a womanizer, flirting with damn near every woman he came across. Illdi might have been young but she was no fool; she saw through the courteous manners and winning smiles and knew what the man wanted. As much as he wanted her to believe otherwise, Ataf did not really have any feelings for her. All he was after was a roll in the hay and he would throw her aside after he got what he wanted.
"I get that you want to talk about this but I don't." Illdi retorted. "Not yet, anyway."
"No need to be afraid, I won't tell anyone about this." Ataf smiled and leaned closer… a bit too close to her liking. She was about to tell him that when all of a sudden she found herself pinned between the ground and the Redguard, her lips forcefully captured by his. Her heart gripped with fear, Illdi began thrashing about in an effort to push the assailant away. Ataf was much stronger, however; he straddled her hips and grabbed her wrists, keeping them pinned above her head with one hand while the other roamed over her body.
Trapped and helpless, Illdi began sobbing openly; the Redguard was about to have his way with her and she could not do anything to stop him. "I'm begging you, please stop…"
"Quiet!" Ataf hissed at her, his free hand fumbling with the buckles of her dress. "We both know you want this!" His gaze addled with lust sickened her. They were in a secluded place; even if she screamed at the top of her lungs, no one would come to her rescue.
Illdi was completely at his mercy and he knew it. When his hand slipped under her dress and immediately went to grab one of her breasts, she stopped struggling, surrendering to the inevitable.
"Good girl…"
Just how long he was planning this?
Her panic stricken mind barely registered that the weight on her hips as well as the grip on her wrists were suddenly gone.
It was Ataf's surprised cry that brought her back to the reality.
Realizing she was free, Illdi quickly sat up and began buckling up her dress.
She was stopped by bloodcurdling scream that cut through the air. She looked up and froze at the sight that greeted her.
There was a dark hooded figure, holding Ataf by the throat with one hand while wrenching the dagger out of the young bard's hand with the other. Even in the dark, Illdi saw that the figure had its mouth latched onto his throat.
Oh gods… A vampire.
Illdi knew she had to get out of there, even if it meant leaving Ataf to die, but her body became paralyzed. Whether it was fear or perhaps magic, she did not know; all she knew was that her limbs refused to obey her commands.
This is it… I'm going to die…
Ataf's body hit the ground with a thud. Illdi would swear she heard the Redguard groan, meaning he was not dead, at least for now. When a pair of fiery red orbs looked straight at her, she was sure she was next. She did not realize she was crying again.
Divines… Please don't let it take me…
Death was not the worst fate one could suffer at the hands of a vampire.
Illdi tried her damnedest to will her limbs to move but her body seemed frozen to the ground.
The vampire took one slow deliberate step towards her. Then another.
Illdi choked back a sob, turning her gaze away from her demise.
Please… Make it quick…
The girl did not even realize she had said it aloud.
A low chuckle was not something she expected.
"I have just saved your life – and by the looks of you, probably your virginity as well – and this is what I get?"
The voice was clearly female; low, calm, with a throaty undertone that almost sounded like a purr. Of course, Illdi knew she should be thinking about why the bloodsucker had not pounced on her yet.
There was a moment of unnerving silence before a hand, cold as ice, grabbed her jaw and forced her head up.
"Look at me!"
Illdi found herself face to face with the female vampire, shivering as it stared right into her blazing eyes.
Even with little-to-no light, she could make out a few details of its face. Dark skin, round chin, wide nose with a thin line running down to her full lips, still stained with Ataf's blood. Illdi had never seen a vampire up close but she had heard many stories. Vampires were supposed to be hideous in appearance but this one looked almost normal, very well capable of passing for a mortal.
To her surprise, the longer she gazed into her eyes, the less afraid she felt. Her body relaxed but for some reason she did not think of fleeing.
"You still think I'm going to eat you?"
Its voice lost the hard edge; now it sounded almost… soothing.
How am I still alive?!
"Why did you help me?" Illdi finally whispered.
"Isn't that what any person worth anything should do?" The vampire said sardonically. "But since you obviously want more of a reason than that… I hate rapists." It- She spat out.
"I never thought he'd… He'd do that to me…"
"Lust has a way of corrupting people." The vampire muttered. Only now Illdi noticed she was carrying some sort of backpack; she set it on the ground and started rummaging through its contents until she pulled out a vial filled with a clear liquid. The vampire grabbed the still unconscious Ataf and sat him up, forcing his mouth open.
"What are you doing?" Illdi asked as she watched the vampire.
"Covering my tracks." She replied simply, pouring the vial's contents down Ataf's throat. "This should heal the bite marks as well as cleanse his systems of any disease. Honestly, I'd rather suck this scum dry and dump his body into the river but a corpse floating in the docks would rouse some suspicion. I'd prefer to avoid that."
"What if he alerts the city guard?"
The vampire flashed a smile; Illdi felt a shiver down her spine at the sight of bloodied fangs. "He won't remember any of this; Illusion magics are more versatile than one would think. At worst, he'll wake up with a splitting headache, thinking he simply got drunk." She released her hold on Ataf and the Redguard fell to the ground slumbering deeply.
Slinging the backpack over her shoulder, the vampire began walking away at a slow pace.
"Wait!"
Illdi surprised herself with the loudness of her voice, given that mere minutes ago she was saying her goodbyes to the world.
The vampire stopped mid-stride and looked back at her.
"I-" Illdi took a deep breath and began anew. "Thank you for saving me… I know I seemed ungrateful and I'm sorry about that but- I've always been told that vampires are monsters-"
"And that would be true, even though there may be… exceptions." The vampire interrupted. "But you're welcome…" She let the words hang in the air… and the other woman understood.
"I'm Illdi, with the Bards College."
The vampire bowed slightly. "Saliyah al-Hegathe. Would you happen to know where I could find a wizard by the name Sybille Stentor?"
"Oh, you mean Jarl Elisif's court wizard? She lives in the Blue Palace."
"My thanks." Saliyah the vampire nodded and went on her way. "Maybe I'll see you around."
Illdi watched as her unexpected savior vanished in the darkness, already knowing she would not see the woman again.
I'll gather my things and take the first carriage out of here. I've had enough of this place.
Saliyah
17th Last Seed, Blue Palace, Solitude
Aside from the usual guardsmen patrolling around the city, the streets of Solitude were completely empty. The muffled sounds of cheering and singing were coming from the local inn but otherwise the city was quiet. I didn't mind; after that unpleasantness near the docks I could have definitely used some peace and quiet. Who knows what could've happened to that Illdi girl hadn't I stepped in. I could tell she was scared out of her wits and I had to use my Illusion magics to calm her down but she recognized I meant no harm to her… unlike many others. As for that little bastard of a man that tried to defile her… I really wanted to kill him but by doing that I could make myself a target. In any case, I only planned to stay here for my business with the court wizard.
Sybille Stentor was one of the few scholars that dealt with Vampirism in their numerous treatises. The next year she would celebrate her 100th birthday; ordinary folks would think the woman was simply blessed with a very long life but I knew that only a few years ago she accepted the position of the High King's court wizard. No one would do that at such great age and I had a sneaking suspicion that Sybille might have a few skeletons in the closet… figuratively speaking.
In any case, Sybille might have some valuable insight into Vampirism she could share with me, provided I could get to her without any incidents. I spent many years learning virtually anything there was to know about my… condition, but I still had a feeling there was more to be learned.
I left most of my belongings, including my fighting gear, in a room I rented at the local inn and walked the streets clothed in a simple deep red dress. My choice of color had nothing to do with my condition, of course.
"A bit late to be wanderin' around, ain't it?" An accented voice sounded on my right. I turned towards the source and found myself face to, um, helmet with a guardsman. "I've never seen you around before."
I flashed the broadest smile I could without showing my teeth. "You'd be right, I just arrived from Northpoint."
"We don't get many visitors from High Rock, especially with the Civil War goin' on." The guard grunted.
Oh yes, the unfortunate matter with the late High King Torygg. Butchered in his own home, by a man he admired, no less… The Divines had some cruel sense of humor. "I heard about the murder of Torygg. That must've been horrible."
"Aye, a terrible day indeed. Worse, that murderer Ulfric managed to escape justice, thanks to one of our own men. Roggvir already paid for his betrayal this mornin'."
"A death sentence, I assume?"
The man smiled wickedly. "The executioner's axe in a full swing is a damn scary sight. Watch yourself in our city, lady, so you won't have to experience that first hand."
"I'll be sure to obey Solitude's laws, then." With that I was on my way to the Blue Palace. Contrary to my belief, no one was there to bar me from entering.
The most of the inhabitants of the palace were sleeping at the time I walked in. The exception was a young maid who directed me to the palace's upper level. I found the court mage's chamber easy enough.
Sybille Stentor was sitting at the table, engaged in a conversation with a finely dressed red headed Nord man and holding a glass of dark red liquid. I assumed it was wine until my nose was hit by an unmistakable smell of blood. Plus, Sybille looked like if she never hit her fortieth year.
The court mage was indeed a vampire which piqued my interest. No idea how she would react to my presence, though.
"Am I interrupting anything?" I called out to get their attention. Two pairs of eyes turned to stare at me; one icy blue, other blood red.
"We don't usually receive visitors this late." The Nord said. "If you have business with the court, you'll have to wait until tomorrow." He didn't recognize what I am; on the other hand, Sybille stared at me very intently, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"It's alright. In fact, I'm here to see the court wizard." I replied courteously.
"What for?" Sybille asked suspiciously.
"I'd rather not talk about this in your companion's presence."
The court wizard stood up and approached me, her gaze meeting mine. "Not a chance." She practically hissed. "Drop the act; I already know what you are."
The Nord seemed alarmed. "What do you mean, Stentor?"
"You've known me long enough not to ask such a stupid question, Falk." Sybille fired back without breaking the eye contact with me.
The man, now identified as Falk, stared at her for a moment before he pulled out a dagger and pointed it "threateningly" at me. "Stay back, vampire!"
This meeting was going south faster than I anticipated.
Suddenly, my mind went back to Sybille's remark and I realized something important. "Wait a moment… You know what she is." I stated flatly, directing my remark solely at Falk.
"Despite her condition, Sybille was nothing but a benefit to Haafingar hold and its people for many years!" Falk said firmly. "Her loyalty is and always has been unwavering and unlike many of your kind, she went to great lengths to overcome her dark nature."
The vampiric court wizard gave a snort. "Your flattery is unneeded, steward… but it is appreciated. Back to the matter at hand, though." Then she shifted her attention to me. "You are very daring to come all the way here, through so many guardsmen, hoping that no one would interfere with whatever nefarious plan you came up with."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Sybille might've been a wizard and a Vampire, but she wouldn't stand a chance against me… and that was no boast; it was simply a fact. "I didn't leave a bloodbath in my tracks, if that's you're worried about. Besides, had I really wanted to kill you, you all would have been dead by now." I looked at Falk who went visibly pale. "I don't intend on harming anyone here but if you force me to fight, I will kill off this entire city if I have to."
"How can I know you are to be trusted?" Sybille countered, arcane flames dancing in her palm. "How can I know this isn't just a ruse to get us to let our guard down?"
"You've studied Vampirism for decades." I smirked. "You should know that better than anyone."
Sybille remained silent for a few second, just like Falk the steward. I felt relieved when the court wizard finally dispelled the fire magic in her hand. "Sit." She said stiffly and pointed at the empty chair next to a bookshelf. I obeyed her command; Falk watched me uneasily as I walked past him. The court wizard began pacing in front of me. "So, you're clearly not feral, given that you haven't slaughtered us all yet. What I can't discern is your motivation to come here. You know that if you attempted to enthrall a member of the court, I would recognize it immediately."
I had to hand it to her, that woman was sharp.
"I have studied Vampirism as well, being a test subject to myself on several occasions." I explained. "I read a few of your treatises on the matter and I thought you might share some of your insight into my condition."
"To what ends?"
I chuckled humorlessly. "That is a story you might want to sit down for." A story I shared with only a handful of people; after all, I wouldn't have lived very long had I flaunted openly my Vampiric blood. "I was turned in year 391 of Third Era, on 20th Evening Star."
Sybille frowned heavily. "That's the summoning day of Molag Bal."
"Indeed." I replied simply. "I was 22 years old when it happened." Even after more than two hundred years I still remembered it with perfect clarity… There were times when I wished I didn't. "Unlike many other vampires I chose to hold onto my sanity instead of giving in to my instincts. It was and it still is a constant struggle and the call of blood nearly drove me crazy on multiple occasions. But I persisted."
"Impossible." Falk scoffed. "Vampires can't just not feed, otherwise they risk becoming weak and feral."
"Well, that depends on the type of a vampire, but generally it's true." I explained. "Many vampires, especially the weaker ones, succumb to the bloodlust simply because they're incapable to keep their vampiric nature from poisoning and taking over their mind; others are seduced by supernatural powers and abilities vampirism gives them. Either way, they become predators that despise mortals despite being mortals themselves at one point or another. However, an individual with strong enough will can defy their vampiric instincts and retain their personality as it was in, well, life, provided that they don't allow themselves to become blood-starved because at that point, their inner beast takes over, often permanently."
"It is possible, although uncommon and very difficult." Sybille conceded. "I usually keep myself as busy as possible in order to distract myself from my thirst. The longer I go without feeding, the more overwhelming it gets."
"But you still preserved your sanity, didn't you?" Honestly, I admired Sybille for being able to resist the unnatural urges that came with vampirism, especially given that she was a lesser vampire. Very few people were capable of that. "A vampire doesn't have to become a monster, only fit to slaughter and enslave mortals… as Molag Bal intended."
"Perhaps…" Sybille trailed off, deeply in thoughts. "I am curious… You said you were turned on 20th Evening Star, Molag's summoning day, correct?"
"Yes."
"Hmm… You look almost indistinguishable from a mortal, almost, given the unmistakable color of your eyes. Also, your skin hasn't gone pale as expected… Do you hail from Hammerfell, by any chance?"
I nodded. "I lived in Hegathe until… you know what I mean."
The court wizard only hummed in response. Falk listened to her monologue with a somewhat unnerved expression. "No facial distortions, as I usually see on vampires around Skyrim, plus you seem relatively in control of yourself, which implies a particularly strong will. All of this points to one conclusion…" She paused. "What did you say your name was?"
I felt a smile tugging at my lips. "I didn't, and it's Saliyah."
"Well, Saliyah of Hegathe," Sybille gave me a pointed stare. "Are you a pureblood vampire?"
"I am." I replied, seeing no sense in denying the truth.
"Falk, leave us."
The steward was taken aback by her request. "Are you sure it's wise?"
"Last I checked I know more about vampirism than you do." Sybille passed over his concern. "I know what I'm doing."
"Very well. I'll remain nearby, in case she starts any trouble." Very reluctantly, Falk left the room.
"She won't. Trust me on this, Falk."
When the door closed behind the steward, the court wizard looked back at me with an expression of understanding, mixed with a bit if pity. If anyone else gave me that look I wouldn't take them seriously but Sybille was one of my kind and she knew precisely what I had to go through in order to keep my "unnatural urges" from taking over.
My over two centuries lasting experience with vampirism showed that even though drinking blood of the living was an important means of sustenance and replenishing of strength, it was not the main goal of vampires. Their ultimate purpose lied in corrupting and enslaving mortal races of Nirn which essentially meant carrying out the will of Molag Bal, the lord of domination and enslavement. It would explain why vampires regarded the mortals as inferior beings, only fit to be slaves or cattle. It was due to Molag's influence that came with the disease.
"How did it happen?"
Sybille's voice brought me back in the present time.
I knew exactly what she was asking about.
"I'll spare you all the gruesome details." I said evenly. "I was kidnapped from my home by a cult of Molag Bal worshippers. A few days later I was offered to their lord." I suffered from nightmares for years after the cursed ritual; the more surprising it was that I could speak so calmly about all that. "Somehow I survived… and the first thing I did after awakening was to slaughter the entire cult and tearing their leader limb from limb with my bare hands."
"That… must've been a horrifying experience…"
"It's been 243 years, Sybille; more than enough time to make peace with my fate. I don't shy away from using my powers, but unlike others of my kind, I chose to remember what I was. Apart from you and a few others, none had done so." I shifted in the chair to make myself comfortable. This was going to be a long night. "Well, I think it wouldn't be fair if I was the only one here to pour my heart out, so to speak."
Sybille chuckled lightly. "I suppose not. It was quite some time since I spoke with one of my kind, in a civil manner, that is. Very well, ask away."
I returned the smile. It was going to be a long night indeed.
Farlas
18th Last Seed, Riverwood
I had decided to have an early morning that day. My body was covered in dust, ash and all other sorts of filth from our previous adventure and I was in a desperate need of a bath. Plus, I wanted to use the ores and ingots we found in the bandit lair yesterday to make myself a set of armor; wandering around the country in an Imperial outfit would attract some unwanted attention, especially from the Stormcloaks and I wanted to avoid that. Careful not to wake up our hosts, I put on some worn clothes I got from Sigrid, picked up the smithing supplies and slipped quietly out of the house.
The entire village was still asleep when I made my way to the White river. Picking one particular spot near the Riverwood sawmill, I shed my clothes and jumped into the cold waters. Not before checking if there was anyone else around, I might add; just because I'm a man doesn't mean I should be showing off my private parts in public like a complete savage. It came as a shock to feel how damn cold the water was but at least it succeeded in waking me up fully. After retreating back to the river's bank I realized I had nothing to dry myself off with but I put the clothes on anyway; I would be working the forge so it would all dry anyway. I went to Alvor's forge and began getting ready for work.
The forge hissed like thousand angry snakes as I heated it up. The next step was to think about how to use available resources. Steel armor was out of question, however, because I had not nearly enough materials to make one. So I decided to improvise and made the iron plates of the armor a bit thicker to increase the protection. That left me with enough ingots of steel to forge a longsword to replace the one that was confiscated by Imperial soldiers; I was still pretty miffed about that. The Legion shortsword I "borrowed" at Helgen keep was still sharp enough so there was no need to replace it.
The whole process of forging the armor and the long-sword took me more than two hours, despite working at a faster pace. Alvor wouldn't be too pleased to see some stranger take his place at the forge and thus keep him from working. Fortunately, Hadvar's uncle decided to sleep in and showed up at the forge just as I was making some finishing touches to the cuirass. Judging by Alvor's compliment on my handiwork, I didn't mess up nearly as bad as I thought I would've.
"I would've considered hiring you as an apprentice but we're just a small village, there ain't many customers around." The elder blacksmith remarked. "I would have no use for you since I can manage all the work on my own here."
"It's quite alright, sir." I replied, not noticing the older man wince. "I thought I would have better luck looking for work in one of the major cities here anyway."
"Don't 'sir' me, lad. We're all equals here." Alvor reproached with faked annoyance. "Only those wealthy city folk pricks revel in titles, but not me."
"I'll be sure to remember that." I chuckled lightly. The elder blacksmith reminded me of my master back in Cyrodiil while I was still an apprentice. "Anyway, how's everyone else doing?"
"Well, the elf that came here with you had snuck out into the woods earlier; I'd say she was going hunting, probably." Alvor shrugged. "About Riverwood, though… Hod already knows about the dragon and I guess it's a matter of time before the rest of the village learns as well."
"Don't worry; we'll set out to Whiterun at midday." I said to calm down the worried smith. "How's Hadvar?"
"Well, he's doing better than yesterday, that's for sure. Though, I don't think the shock's fully worn off yet; I think I heard him muttering things in his sleep."
"No surprise there." I remarked and began putting on my newly made armor.
Alvor gave a sigh. "I can't argue with that. Though a dragon appearing after all this time is bound to cause more than just restless sleep, I suspect."
Suddenly, an idea occurred to me. "Now that we talk about it, how far is it to Whiterun?"
"About five hours on foot, four if you keep a swift pace." The blacksmith explained. "The road goes along the White river and is relatively safe from what I've heard. You shouldn't have any trouble, I think."
"That's good to hear." I said, adjusting the last of straps on my armor. "You can do whatever you wish with the Imperial outfit, I don't need it anymore."
Alvor inspected the Legion armor that lay piled up beside the forge. "Hmm… It's pretty battered; not entirely useless but not fit for sale either. I think I'll just dismantle it, melt down the metal and use the rest as the spare parts or something."
"That's an idea." I replied. "Anyway, I think I'll go look around the village, hang around until my acquaintance gets back. We'll set out to Whiterun once she returns."
Alvor merely grunted in response as he took his place at the forge. I went to look around the village, leaving the blacksmith to his own devices; I had wasted enough of the man's time by keeping him waiting.
Riverwood seemed like a nice peaceful place. Not many people lived here but that was pretty fine with me; as a child I lived in Cheydinhal and truth to be said I didn't miss the racket and crowded streets of a city in the slightest. In spite of its size, the village had everything a man would need; a general goods store, an inn, a blacksmith's shop, a sawmill, if you needed a job, plus the village was situated on a trading road between Whiterun and Falkreath. As for the people who lived here, there were some interesting individuals… interpret that however you wish.
Aside from Alvor and his family, I already saw Sven, a local bard who was allegedly in love with one certain Camilla Valerius, a sister of the owner of the local store, and his mother Hilde who appeared to show signs of senility.
Ralof's sister Gerdur was the owner of the Riverwood sawmill along with her husband Hod. I only saw the latter at work; his wife must've been tending to that Lilija girl we found in the Helgen keep. As for Ralof and Lilija, I didn't see them around the village. I could understand that, though; if the word got out that Gerdur and her family were harboring Stormcloak soldiers there probably would be some severe repercussions.
On my tour around Riverwood, I visited the Sleeping Giant Inn to buy something to eat. No ale though; it was way too early to get drunk and besides, I had a travel to make. The owner of the inn was a short blonde Breton woman, about forty years in age, if I had to guess and her rather attractive face was marred by a permanent light scowl. I could swear that her gaze was boring into the back of my skull the entire time I was there; it was pretty unnerving. The innkeeper had an assistant, a Nord by the name Orgnar; he was a man of a few words, in fact he came off as somewhat apathetic at times. And of course, Riverwood also had a local drunkard, Embry. There wasn't much to say about the dirtied Nord who seemed to do nothing but knock back one mug of mead after another.
After the hearty breakfast I left the inn, not willing to remain any longer under the innkeeper's watchful gaze. I wandered around the village for a few more minutes before I finally spotted Falaere coming through the eastern gate in the company of a Wood Elf male. My companion from Helgen was holding at least three dead rabbits and a couple of pheasants while the other Elf carried a young stag on his shoulders.
The two Elves were engrossed in their conversation so they didn't notice me approaching. "Do my eyes deceive me or did you just kill off half of the forest?" I exclaimed, amazed at the size of their take.
The male Wood Elf chuckled lightly. "I guess we got a little carried away."
Falaere picked that precise moment to butt in. "Well, Faendal here bragged that he could hit his mark at three hundred yards… in a blizzard, if you'd believe that. I dared him to prove it and since there's obviously no blizzard right now, we tested our skills on moving targets."
Three hundred yards in a blizzard… I heard that the Wood Elves were the best archers in all of Tamriel, surpassing their peers from other countries by far but to hit their mark in such conditions… It just didn't seem doable, master marksman or not. "What are you going to do with all this dead meat?" I just had to ask.
"I'll just take a rabbit and a pheasant. I can always go to the woods for some hunting when I need to." Faendal replied and laid the dead stag on the ground. "You two can share the rest."
"Oh, we can leave the stag to Alvor and his family as a parting gift." Falaere suggested. "We never properly thanked them for helping us after that Helgen disaster."
I was about to shush the Wood Elf woman to stop her from inciting a panic around the village. Faendal intervened before I could say a word. "An entire town burned to the ground just like that. I never would've guessed that bandits were capable of such destruction." The Elf said with an expression of disgust, obviously not knowing the truth about the decimated town. Falaere was smarter than I gave her credit for. True, the news of a dragon would spread very soon but until the reinforcements from Whiterun arrived, the folk of Riverwood were better off not knowing the truth.
"I know, right?" Falaere remarked. "And then there's also the talk of the civil war, it's enough to make one's head spin."
"Yeah, the world's gone crazy, indeed." Faendal nodded. "Listen, I'd love to stay and chat more but Hod needs me down at the sawmill; best not to keep the man waiting. Maybe we'll meet again later." With that, the young Elf went on his way.
The man has no idea how right he is, I thought grimly as I watched Faendal head towards the sawmill. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Falaere contemplating me from head to toe. "What?" I said somewhat annoyed, having my fair share of being stared at already.
"That armor makes you look like a brigand." The Elf replied bluntly, straight to the point.
"It's the best I can afford now." I responded with a shrug. "Maybe you should consider getting rid of that Imperial uniform. It might draw some unwanted attention."
Falaere considered my point. "Maybe I will, if the blacksmith has something for an acceptable price. I'd prefer not to spend all my money on a suit of armor."
"I'm sure Alvor can find something for you." I picked up the stag and we slowly started walking to Alvor's house.
"You're still planning on going to Whiterun today?"
"Yeah, I do. Thinking of tagging along?"
"I guess so. I haven't really decided where to go yet so I might as well accompany you."
"If I may ask, why did you even travel to Skyrim?" I asked curiously. "The weather here isn't exactly favorable to your kind; I mean it is pretty cold here."
Falaere seemed to think for a moment. "I'd probably say out of curiosity. Skyrim is one of the provinces I haven't visited yet, beside Hammerfell, High Rock and Summerset Isles. Plus, there's just nothing holding me back in Valenwood."
I couldn't help it but notice the strange wistful look in her crimson eyes but I chose not to comment. It felt rude to ask about something that could as well be a personal matter that was none of my business. "So you're an adventurer, then?"
"I prefer the term 'wanderer' rather than 'adventurer'." She corrected me with a half-smile. "Thrill seeking and glory hunting aren't really my thing."
By that time we had already arrived to Alvor's house.
Imagine the surprise we caused when I slammed the dead stag on the table. For a good few seconds, Sigrid simply gaped at me, jaw dropped in shock, before she gathered enough wits to ask me where on Nirn we got that thing from. After Falaere explained the circumstances surrounding the dead animal, Alvor's wife began fretting about what to do with the several pounds of venison that turned up in her home. Then Alvor himself barged inside the house to see what all the fuss was about; his reaction to Falaere's kill was that of a pleasant surprise. No wonder, given that his family was about to have a feast. He even gave Falaere a discount on some worn leather armor she wanted to buy.
As for me and my elven companion, we shared the rest of the kill, the two rabbits and the pheasant, for lunch. We had a long journey to make and it would be a bad idea to overgorge ourselves beforehand. After the meal, we were ready to set out.
As I was about to walk out of the house, I noticed Hadvar slinging a bag over his shoulder and fastening the remaining straps on his armor. "You going somewhere?" I asked the Imperial soldier.
"I'm going to Falkreath." Hadvar explained. "Wanted to check the town for possible survivors from Helgen; if I'm lucky I might even catch up with Tullius."
"What makes you think they'll be there?" Falaere questioned.
"Where else would they go?" The Legionnaire scoffed. "Certainly not Rift; those traitors sided with the Stormcloaks. Whiterun is no option either; the hold remained neutral in the war so far and the Jarl might take it as a provocation if Imperial soldiers wandered around his territory. Falkreath is with the Empire, so it makes sense the General and his troops would retreat there."
"Why do you hate the rebels so much?" I asked. "I mean, Talos is like a patron God of the Nords, from what I've seen so it makes sense that some people revolted against the Empire for banning his worship, right?" I grew up in the time of disillusionment after the Great War, when people couldn't stop worry about their future after the Empire degraded to something only a little more than a vassal state to the Dominion. I could understand why the Stormcloaks didn't want to remain on board of the sinking ship that was the Empire. Even now it barely resisted the pressure from the Thalmor and it seemed like only a matter of time before it caved in completely.
Hadvar gave me a leveled stare. "I can see you haven't been here long enough to understand what this war's really about." The soldier remarked with a hint of bitter resentment. "Ulfric doesn't care about Talos, Skyrim or its people. All he wants is power; why else would he murder High King Torygg? He rallied many of his kinsmen to 'bring back Talos and free this land of the corrupt Empire' while his only concern is the High King's throne. He only cares about himself and he doesn't give a troll's arse that he's tearing this land apart with that power trip of his!"
"And what do you think about all this, Hadvar? About the Empire? About Talos?"
"I never thought an Imperial would care about this." Hadvar remarked with a small fleeting smile. "Banning of Talos worship caused a lot of resentment in Skyrim and for a good reason. But it's not like the Empire had a choice, right? Besides, no matter how blasphemous it is to just forsake a God, it's not worth tearing apart the only thing that keeps the Thalmor from walking all over Skyrim."
"They're already walking around Skyrim whenever they please." I pointed out. "I saw them in Helgen."
"Those elves would be swarming this land if it were not for the Empire." Hadvar countered swiftly. I had to grudgingly admit he was right. "Thalmor won't be doing much as long as the Empire is in Skyrim."
"I really hope you're right." Those damned gold-skinned holier-than-thou rats, always thinking they were better than all other races put together. "To me it seems that the only reason the Empire exist is because the Dominion allowed it."
"The Empire will rise again." The Legionnaire said firmly. "It may take some time but it will happen." Not within our lifetimes, I thought. Gods, I'm such a cynical bastard sometimes…
We said our goodbyes to Alvor and his family and set out to Whiterun to deliver the message. Hadvar accompanied us to the bridge across the White River before he had to set out in the opposite direction to Falkreath. The young soldier wished us good luck and safe travels, remarking that maybe we would meet again someday.
Then we parted ways; Hadvar made his way to Falkreath while Falaere and I headed to Whiterun. I prayed to the Divines that our journey would go smoothly, without any incidents. After the Helgen disaster, I wasn't ready for yet another adventure.
Author's note: Here is the long-overdue introduction of the Nightwalker. I'm sorry about the delay; this story should've been updated a lot sooner but I had to take a break from writing for a time (beginning with September). Had to work a bit on my writing style. Of course, the break got a bit longer than I originally planned... I'm back at the college and the studies are even more time consuming than when I was doing my bachelor degree. On the other hand, it became a damn good incentive to carefully schedule the stuff I do, including writing, reading, studying (for school and/or otherwise), drawing and occasional gaming. Of course, thanks to my pathetic working morale, sometimes I find myself incapable of sticking to the schedule and just do what I feel like doing at the moment... Which means I barely get anything done. But... it's still a progress, I guess... :)
Anyway, I made some minor changes in the first two chapters; just changed the heading of viewpoint shifts on Deplaisance de la Nuit's recommendation (Thanks for the review, by the way) and changed some words that I thought felt weird to me. All in all, nothing dramatic. Plus, I'm considering changing the fic's rating to M for the scene at the beginning of this chapter. Had to introduce the Nightwalker somehow, in a way that gives a glimpse into her character. I'm probably gonna leave it at T-rating for now because the scene was not graphic (at least in my opinion) but I'm ready to change the rating if there are any complaints.
That's about it from me, not gonna spoil what's gonna happen in the future chapters :D So until the next update, have a good time!