AN: Get ready for a bumpy ride, readers, it's about to get all kinds of weird! Skyrim quests be damned, I'm going to be doing my own thing, and this whole Blood on the Ice quest will be really, really important later. So I'm glad at least most of you seem to like what I'm doing with it. If anyone gets confused by what's going on in this chapter, feel free to say so, and I'll respond without spoilers as best as I can.

Responding to some comments: Liber Fatum, YES a cliffhanger! MOOHAHA. I'm going to try to update at least once a week. Real life is a bit of a slave-driver, you know? Moonflower04, thank you so much for all your comments! I will try to keep people laughing at times, even when shit starts to hit the fan… repeatedly. And I liked Siv a lot too . Timeywimeyspaceywacey and AIK2, Jorleif is not much of an ass in-game, but I'm going to make him highly protective of Ulfric and also a bit racist against Argonians and Khajiit. Kira Mackey, Yrsarald is just too perfect, isn't he!? Errrgh. KrystylSky, thanks! Purple256, glad you're enjoying! You're probably right about the people of Skyrim…. Chubbiness would indeed have been a marker of wealth, because the less labor you have to do, the more weight you can put on.

Chapter 26 – Gods and Monsters

"Cutting and sewing body parts, you say?" Wuunferth ran a hand over his beard.

"All women," I added. "I think someone is making a woman."

"Making a woman? What makes you think that?"

"In my world, there is a story…. A man sews body parts together to make a man. Lightning makes him alive."

"And what happened to this kvikind?" Wuunferth asked.

"Oh…." I didn't really remember details about the story of Frankenstein's monster, but I knew enough. "The… made man, he… was not made to be bad, but he became angry, and killed everyone, in the end." I was probably wrong. "But… what you said about the… strovar…."

"Strovodinok."

Necromancy. Strovodinok. Necromancy. Strovodinok. "If what you say is true, what if the… necromancer… makes a dead woman to… do things? What if the dead woman is bad?" I looked down at my hands. "There are other stories…." Too many stories. "Dead people become alive, and… attack. Make other people attack. More, more, more until everyone is a not-dead person. End of life."

I looked up at Wuunferth. His eyes were wide with curiosity. "You have stories of such things? I thought you said there was no magic in your world?"

"There is no magic," I confirmed, "but we have many stories of things that do not exist. It is very common. We even have stories about magic. Of dragons and elves, too. But they do not exist."

"No? Are you quite sure? How can one write about something that never existed?"

My smile was more of a grimace. "I have never seen a horse with wings, but… I can…." I suddenly felt ill. "I can think of one…." I tasted bile. "Oh…."

"Are you alright, Deborah?" Wuunferth asked.

I swallowed hard and stood from the chair I had dragged close to Wuunferth's cell. "I am…. I think I… I will…." Yep, I was going to vomit again. I searched for a bucket, any bucket, and found one. I had nothing left inside of me to give, however, and I merely dry-heaved for the better part of a minute.

Yrsarald was there again, making sure my jaw-length hair stayed out of my face. "You feel hot," Yrsarald said.

He was one to talk. Yrsarald always felt like he was running a fever. "You feel… hot…," I managed to say before dry-heaving again. I could feel my eyes beginning to water and was sure I had popped at least one blood vessel in my right eye. I stumbled, and would have landed on my butt if Yrsarald hadn't caught me.

"I think she has the fever," I heard Yrsarald say.

"Bring her here," Wuunferth said. I felt the cold touch of metal, and then someone's hand, and then intense warmth.

"Hands back, mage!" a female guard shouted. She approached Wuunferth's cell. "No magic. Not while you're in here."

"I'm merely trying to heal the girl, Hrina," Wuunferth protested.

"NO MAGIC," the guard repeated. "Hamon?" She called another guard. "Escort Yrsarald and Deborah upstairs."

"It is fine, Wuunferth…. I can heal… myself," I mumbled. Suddenly I felt incredibly weak. I probably needed water.

"I will take her upstairs," Yrsarald said. I watched him as he glowered at the guards and brushed passed them with his arm still around my waist. Thankfully I could still walk, and he didn't have to carry me up the entire series of steps to get to the bedrooms.

I lost consciousness in the room with the big map.

. . . . . .

My eyes blinked open to a painfully bright light. Slowly, my body eased awake from what felt like an incredibly deep slumber. I sat up and realized I was in a field thick with blue flowers. Above me was a bright blue and cloudless sky, but I saw no sun. Hills surrounding the field were covered in the same blue flower, onward passed the horizon in every direction. Blue birds chirped from nearby bushes which, too, were covered in blue flowers, though of a different variety from what I lay on.

"Welcome," sounded a disembodied, warm, feminine voice. In English.

"What?" I asked, in English.

"Welcome, my Champion. I am pleased we finally meet."

"Meet? What?" I scrambled to my feet to look around, but saw nothing but an endless sheet of billowy blue spanning over rolling hills, an endless blue sky, and the occasional blue-flowery bush and singing bluebirds. Oh, and, blue butterflies. I watched as a butterfly flitted about until it landed on my shoulder.

Was I talking to a butterfly? I asked myself.

"You look for me," the voice spoke again. It wasn't the butterfly. "I am sorry. If it would make you more comfortable, I can manifest a human form."

I stared at the horizon. "Yes…?"

"Close your eyes, Deborah," the voice spoke. The voice knew my name.

I obliged.

Even through my closed eyelids, I saw and felt an explosion of light and warmth in front of me, making me see pink through the thin skin. The light faded instantly, and I slowly lifted my eyelids. Standing in front of me was a tall, lithe, thirty-something woman with long, straight dark-blonde hair and luminous sapphire eyes. Her tan skin had an orange-brown undertone, and the majority of her body was covered in a gown of what appeared to be glittering, flowing water, which in itself would be utterly confusing if I weren't already utterly confused.

It was only then that I realized I was dressed in the same clothes I was wearing on the day I fell into the cave in Norway.

"I hope this form is pleasing to you," the woman spoke. "I pulled images from your subconscious. I am a mix of multiple people who you find pleasing."

"It's… it's fine," I said.

"Please, let us sit," the woman said.

I made to sit on the flowery ground, but when I looked behind me, an enormous blue daisy-like flower appeared. I turned back to the woman, confused, but she had already reclined onto a similar flower. I followed suit, and we sat in oversized blue flower seats, facing one another.

"You have many questions for me, Deborah, but allow me to address what I already know you want answered." The woman shifted in her flower seat and crossed her long, bare, and completely hairless legs. "You are dreaming," she began. "We are not physically speaking your native language, but rather we are communicating through your own subconscious, and therefore you understand us to be speaking whatever it is you understand most easily. Though, 'speak' is not the correct term to use in this case, I suppose that is not an important detail.

"We are in one of my many realms, Blue. Your mind, and my essence. I bring most mortals here for our first meeting. I think this is the most calming of them all. Do you agree?" She was gazing at me with big, hopeful, blue-gemstone eyes.

I looked around at the endless field of blue flowers and listened to the birdsong. I heard the sound of distant flowing water, and for a brief moment I thought it might have come from the woman's dress. "Yes," I agreed. "Calm."

"Good, I am glad. Now, you would not know me, but I am called Meridia by mortals in our world. Not many seek my guidance or help or love these days…." The woman appeared, briefly, wistful. "I believe you were made aware of the existence of my kind, and of those whom you call 'gods'. I am a Daedra. In your language, we would be considered… Chaos. I was once, however, much, much more…." The woman, Meridia, looked me directly in the eyes. "What does Chaos mean to you?"

"Chaos? Um…. Disorganized. Change. Variety." I thought a moment more. "Potential."

"Yes, that feels correct." Meridia smiled. She appeared as though she were wearing makeup, but I wasn't quite sure she was. "I was once…," she dipped her long, blue fingernails into her water-dress, which indeed was flowing around her body. The disturbance from her fingers shifted the current and briefly allowed a glimpse of her upper thigh. "I was once part of the spark of life that helped create the land you know as Skyrim, and indeed the whole of Nirn. I am of the very essence of light, and of life. This is why you cannot look upon me in my true form. I am a daughter of Anu…." When the woman ran her fingers through her long hair, it appeared as if each strand was infused with light.

"You know the Daedra to be unlike 'gods', and this is only partially true. I myself am not originally a Daedra, nor was I Aedra. Aedra, the opposite of Daedra, in your language would be considered Order, or Stasis. Anu is, himself, Stasis…. The existence of both Aedra and Daedra provide balance, without which this world would cease to exist. After getting a sense of you, I believe in your world, this would be considered the balance of 'good' and 'evil' – without one, the other cannot exist." She paused for a moment. "Am I making sense?"

I nodded.

"Good." She folded her elegant hands in her lap. "I will answer your other questions momentarily." She was reading my mind. "After Mundus – which is what you would consider the mortal plane – was created, my kin and I fled back to our world, Aetherius…. Aetherius is not quite what you think of as a 'heaven', but it is close enough. When it was discovered that I had consorted with the Daedra Azura, and had gifted her with a part of my very being only to have it stolen… I was banished from Aetherius for the remainder of Time. I did not mind, however. Azura and I were quite fond of what had been created, and were happy to oversee the life forming on the young Nirn. I created my own realms in Oblivion – the Colored Rooms, one for each color of the rainbow – and in here I reside and welcome my Champions when their time in Mundus has come to an end.

"As I am of light and life itself, you may be able to appreciate that I cannot sit idly by when life is… corrupted… abused… unnaturally prolonged. Such abomination creates an imbalance that I nor the Aedra of Life and Death will tolerate. I need a Champion who sees life as I do, and who can appreciate and respect death. All of Mundus will soon need such a Champion.

"Now, as for your question of why you are here, conversing with me now... Portals have been opening all over Nirn recently, and we do not yet know why. We believe someone or something is disturbing the balance between Mundus, Aetherius, and Oblivion, or perhaps disturbing Time itself. Unfortunately, we are not omniscient, except when it comes to knowing the minds of mortals, some of the time…. In any case, portals opened, briefly, around Nirn, leading to unknown lands and impossible worlds. Servants were sent on reconnaissance missions to these worlds, but only one came back having encountered intelligent life – he returned from your world. He spoke of beings that resembled the humans of Nirn and of a magnificent culture even surpassing that of the Dwemer – a species of dwarves long extinct. A culture with enormous flying metal birds and buildings as tall as this realm is wide. Tell me, does your world truly contain these things?"

"Um, yes…." I was trying my best to follow the tale of this woman, but the vast amount of information was dizzying. "Why…," I began, "why me? Why am I here, in this world?"

"Pure accident, really. A portal opened, and then you fell."

"I fell…."

"Yes, in that cave. A portal was just behind you in the cave, at that very moment. After you fell, and died, your essence was retrieved mere moments before the portal closed."

I stared at the woman, and blinked. "What?"

"Your essence. Your… soul. We retrieved it, manifested your body, however… somewhat broken, and brought you to life in our world, in Mundus. Azura and Arkay helped with that." The woman's matter-of-fact expression terrified me.

"I died!?" I was practically shrieking while sitting straight up, stunned, on a giant blue flower. The birdsong silenced briefly after my outburst, but carried on soon enough.

"Yes, Deborah, you died. Your mortal body could not withstand the severing of your spinal cord when you broke your neck. I am sorry. Does it comfort you to have closure about your life on… what do you call it? Earth? Gaia? Ge?" I studied the expression of the woman who was undoubtedly reading my mind. "Mundus?" She smiled. "Creation is seemingly… more complicated… than any one of us thought, hmm?"

The flitter of several beautiful blue butterflies that crossed between me and Meridia was perfectly incongruous. I had stopped looking at Meridia, and had barely registered her last words. "You… pulled me here…. My soul? Why? Why would you bring me here and then leave me…. Leave me to be captured in a cave!? I didn't even speak the language! What about my soul back in my world!?"

Meridia slowly shook her head, causing the current of her water-dress to shift. "You do not believe in life after death, though you are yet unsure…. I cannot say whether or not souls are treated in the same manner in your world as they are here, but in this world, there is absolutely life after death, and reincarnation. There are many ways to live after death… all of which depends on how you live before death.

"Arkay sensed… something… in your world through the portals. Even he could not explain it. When consulting with Akatosh, they agreed there was some link between our worlds, an energy that was shared, which may be one reason why the portals opened. Arkay sensed something in you, possibly because you were so very near a portal…. On his suggestion we made a split-second decision to bring your essence here and manifest your body – give you a second life, as it were. The process took much energy and concentration, and I am afraid we could not do more. We are not omnipotent.

"Some of us felt guilt about what we had done, others felt triumph. To ease your transition, Dibella whispered words in Thrynn's ear, causing him to save your life, and she caused him to mishear your name, prolonging the confusion, buying you time. She also introduced you to one of her most beloved worshippers, Stenvar. He will be your most faithful ally; keep him close. Finally, Kynareth felt immense guilt that you did not know the language of the land, so she helped you learn as quickly as she could by causing your various acquaintances to be patient with you, teach you. We are all impressed by how fluent you have become.

"Please understand we did not act completely without prudence. Your unique energy was felt through the portal and we made our decision. We knew a Champion was coming soon… one to beat back the encroaching evil… and upon sensing you, Arkay was convinced that you were that Champion. After watching you function in our world, I agree. You are adapting very well, and you have much knowledge from your world to bring to ours."

Tears came to my eyes as I tried to wrap my mind around the torrent of information. "Adapting…," I laughed. "I was raped…. And Thrynn left me, pregnant. And the dragon!" I glowered at the woman. "Who was watching out for me then!?"

She frowned. "Not all of us 'gods', as you see us, care about the well-being of mortals. Most see your kind as… entertainment. I suppose you would consider them 'demons'…. I learned too late of what Molag Bal had caused to happen with the bandits. There was nothing we could do. As I said, we are not omniscient, nor omnipotent. We often need help from mortals, when it comes to interacting with the mortal world…." The woman looked furious for a brief moment. Her hair glowed as if on fire, and her water-dress swirled like a whirlpool. "Azura has assured me that her companion will not let further harm come to you in that manner. In exchange, Azura caused you to miscarry, and offered the soul of that child unto Molag Bal. She knew you did not want Thrynn's child. I can sense from you that she was correct in her thinking. As for the dragon.…" Meridia shifted uneasily on her flower, "that is another matter altogether. The World-Eater was drawn to Helgen…." Her eyes shot up and her gaze locked onto mine. "We all feel your presence, here, Deborah. Simple Fate, or someone from our world, perhaps, may have had a hand in your death, and in the portal being there at that very moment. No one will admit to causing your death, however. But, here you are, and we could not be happier. You cherish life and death as much as we do. We have big plans for you."

"What do you mean!? Life, death… plans?"

Meridia sat up straight, reached forward, and grasped my hands with hers. "You have already stepped onto the path set out for you. We believe that you and you alone have the knowledge to help us with what is happening to our world. What will happen. One of our servants saw something…," the woman looked passed me, over my shoulder, an expression of disgust crossing her face, "something in your world quite disturbing." Her eyes shot back to mine. "Something which is happening here, as well. Arkay saw your marks," she stressed. "He believes in you, and so do I. But your time in my realm is coming to a close. You must wake, Deborah. Be brave, be safe. Learn. I will contact you again."

"What? What do you mean? What is happening!?" I stood from my flower and started to approach Meridia, but a flash of light forced me to look away. When I opened my eyes, I was in a bed, staring at a stone ceiling, vision blurred.

"Deborah?" I heard a man speak my name with trepidation, as if speaking would scare me away. He was speaking Norren. "Deborah, do you finally wake? Are you alright?"

I felt a heavy hand and cold cloth on my forehead, and thought I recognized the shape, colors and voice of Yrsarald. My vision cleared and, slowly, the sight of a red-brown goatee and worried blue eyes hovered above me.

"Oh, thank the gods." Yrsarald sat back in a chair that was pulled close to the edge of the bed. "I was worried for a moment. You were nithig in your fever. I think you were ofsonig."

"I…," I scooted upright and leaned against the headboard, "I was many things…."

"Here, drink," he held up a cup to me. Water. I drank thirstily. "You're still quite warm. I suppose you should rest more. You can stay here for as long as you need; I can sleep elsewhere."

What? Stay where? I looked around me and realized I was in Yrsarald's bedroom, in his big bed with soft linens. Next to the bed was an empty bucket, and on the night table next to me was a silver bowl full of water, and several linen clothes folded next to the bowl. "Thank you…. I…." I became dizzy and lay back down. "I maybe am… not well. Am… have…."

"Yes, you have the fever. Do not worry; I will make sure you are taken care of." Yrsarald then stood and straightened out his armor. "I have to meet with Ulfric, but I will leave Einrik here to guard you. He'll be just outside, if you have need of anything." He walked to the door, and then glanced at the platter of food still on his desk from our morning feast. "I suppose if your appetite returns, there is plenty of food. I will have some soup and tea sent up, though. Sifnar knows what's good for the fever." Yrsarald gave me one last smile before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Once Yrsarald was gone, I immediately uncovered my feverish body from the suffocating linens, and then moments later recovered myself when I began to shiver. Feeling disgusting no matter what I did, I eventually dragged myself out of the bed and stripped myself of my mage's robe, leaving only my underwear and chest binding on. I washed myself with some cool water from the tall washbasin, and slid back into the bed, not bothering to dry off.

Sleep. Sleep. How could I sleep after the dream I'd just had? Dream. Dream. Just a dream. A feverish, hallucinogenic dream. Yes. Just a dream.

I thought to try and heal myself the way I did when I was dying from infection alongside Thrynn in the cabin, but barely any of the warm, yellow light emerged from my palms. "No, no no…," I muttered to myself. It took too much energy to heal myself for some reason this time. I didn't want to pass out again. I didn't have my journal and I had forgotten the healing words Wuunferth taught me.

A fleeting memory of some movie I couldn't remember the name of jetted through my mind.

"What do you do when you get a cold?" I muttered to myself in English, knowing full well I wasn't remembering the line properly. "Just have the cold," I muttered. "Just have the cold…."

When my innards started rumbling, I knew I didn't have a cold. I scrambled off the bed and ran to Yrsarald's small private latrine, tearing off my ladybriefs in the process.

Later that evening I wasn't feeling any better. I was eternally grateful for access to a private latrine, particularly because I had ripped my linen underwear and was wearing nothing but lightweight linen bedclothes that I asked the guard to retrieve for me. Yrsarald had checked on me at some point; I wasn't sure where he slept.

In the morning, I was awakened by the echoes of shouts coming from elsewhere in the palace. My bedclothes and the bed linens were completely soaked through with sweat, and I knew my fever had broken. I felt somewhat better, and promptly healed myself. A warm yellow light swirled around me.

"Finally," I muttered.

I quickly washed in Yrsarald's bathtub and lathered the sweat out of my hair. Someone had delivered fresh linen underwear and a chest binding for me. I quickly bound my bosom and threw on my mage's robe before eating a handful of berries, downing a cup of water, and running downstairs, not caring that I was barefoot. I made a note to see about buying some sort of sandals or slippers.

As I ran down the stairs and into the room with the big map, the shouting grew louder, and I began to discern words.

"What!? Eaten!?" a man shouted.

"Yes," a woman replied, clearly upset.

I stepped into the main hall to be met by half a dozen guards, a civilian woman I didn't recognize, Ulfric, Galmar, Jorleif and Yrsarald. All of them stared at me from the base of Ulfric's throne – a barefoot, damp-haired mage, frozen in the archway. I took a tentative step forward, and then another. Yrsarald broke from the group and started towards me. For once, he was not smiling when he saw me. He grabbed my forearm and pulled me aside. Not violently, but not gently, either.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. From his actions I expected him to reprimand me for something I didn't know I had done, but I was wrong.

My face must have conveyed my confusion at his roughness. "I… better, now…. Why did I hear shouting?" I asked him. "What is happening?"

His expression and muscles relaxed, and he frowned. "Someone was killed. Not a woman this time – a man. He wasn't cut up, either. And he was wearing this." Still grasping my forearm, Yrsarald led me back over to the crowd next to Ulfric's throne. He turned to Jorleif who held a necklace with a skull engraved on a pendant.

"It was found at the sith of the rituals, and then stolen from my office," Jorleif explained. "I suppose the dead man stole it."

"Looks like you were right," Yrsarald continued, "Wuunferth is innocent, as are you. We all apologize… don't we?" He turned to the other men who grunted their meager apologies. "And someone saw something," Yrsarald turned around, "that woman, she saw…." Yrsarald turned back to me. "Yesterday, you were talking to Wuunferth about something to do with necromancers and… undead people attacking others. Do you truly know about such things?"

I stared up at the enormous man, jaw floored and mind dumbfounded. "I… they are just stories, Yrsarald. The things do not exist in my world."

"Tell them," Yrsarald ordered me, finally letting go of my arm.

Tell them? Tell them what? I stared at Yrsarald, and then at an expectant Ulfric, Jorleif and Galmar. Ulfric waved away the guards and crying woman. As I watched them leave, I said, "I will tell you what I know. But first…," I inhaled slowly, straightened my posture, and looked directly into Ulfric's eyes. "Let Wuunferth go, and then tell him and me exactly what happened."

Galmar growled. "I've got things to do," he turned to Ulfric. "I'm leaving for Kyne's Lund to check on the camp," he declared before promptly leaving the palace.

Ulfric let out a long, deep sigh, waved off Jorleif, and then walked into the map room.

Yrsarald pressed his hand to the small of my back and urged me to follow Ulfric. The Jarl, Yrsarald and I had a seat at a table in the map room to wait for Wuunferth. When the mage arrived, escorted by Jorleif and mumbling words of dissent, Ulfric began.

"A sagnafra was found early this morning inside his home, eaten." Ulfric rubbed his right temple, obviously experiencing a troublesome headache.

"Eaten?" I asked.

"Yes. The door to his home was open, and rats were seen entering. The woman who found him saw something else in the house – she described it as a dead woman, but sewn together, alive, and walking." Ulfric turned to me. "Sound familiar?"

"Well, yes…." I was getting nervous, and my voice was shaking. "I spoke to Wuunferth about a story from my world, about a man made from parts of men. But it is not a true story."

"What the woman saw sounded very true. However, she did not close the door to the house, and when the guards arrived, the undead woman was gone. No one else reports seeing the kvikind, but I fear it is running around my city. What do you bernd we do?"

Ulfric was asking me what to do about a zombie – a Frankenstein-like monster, eating people in the city. Wonderful. A wave of anxiety momentarily took over my senses.

"Ehh, I, well…." I fidgeted with my hair, tucking a wavy tress behind an ear, and then the other ear. "I don't know where the thing might be, but when the thing is found, the head must be… taken. Cut off. Hit hard." I looked to Yrsarald, who still wasn't smiling. He smiled so often, I knew he was truly worried.

"If I may…," Wuunferth spoke. "This necklace," he held the pendant in his hand, "is the Necromancer's Taufra. I had never seen it before now, but, most mages of my gaeth know of its existence, so that we know not to use it. It… enhances ones magical abilities… and, as you might imagine, particularly enhances strovodinokur abilities. My suggestion is to destroy it, if you can…." He handed the necklace back to Jorleif, who promptly placed it into a small pouch. "If you found this on the dead man's body, my thoughts are that he was the necromancer, and that you have indeed found your killer. He failed, however, to bend his creation's will to that of his own. Deborah is right – we cannot know where the kvikind is. We must simply warn everyone, and hinder it from leaving."

"Yes, yes," I agreed, frantically nodded my head. "You must stop it from leaving the city. I do not think it is the same kind of thing from the stories from my world, but I do not know. It might be… it might make others undead too." I'm definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight, I thought.

Ulfric's expression never faltered from that of overwhelming frustration. He turned to Jorleif, nodded, and the steward trotted away. The Jarl then turned back to me. "Thank you, Deborah. You and Yrsarald may go. I will speak with Wuunferth alone."

Yrsarald and I stood, and I immediately headed upstairs. I ran to Wuunferth's quarters, grabbed my belongings, and packed everything in my large, two-strap knapsack.

"What are you doing?" Yrsarald asked as I made sure I collected everything that I owned.

"I am leaving. As soon as I can. Going to Winterhold." I turned to the man. "I am better now. No more fever. I became better during the night and used magic this morning. I am fine. But I must go. I cannot be here if an undead thing is here. I cannot. Cannot…." I walked passed Yrsarald and headed to his room to retrieve my boots, which I hoped were still there.

"But the undead woman is not yet found. Ulfric and Wuunferth may have need of you." Yrsarald was right behind me, hovering.

"I will leave Wuunferth a note. I will not leave without saying goodbye." I yanked on my cloth socks and leather boots and then proceeded to stuff apples and hard but still edible lumps of cheese into my knapsack.

"Ulfric told me to guard you." Yrsarald was starting to get on my nerves, and into my personal space. "What if the man who was found was not the killer? What if the killer wants us to believe he is dead? What if he is sending the undead woman after people?" A hand landed on my shoulder. "Deborah…."

"What!?" I turned, snapping at the man. "I am no one, Yrsarald. I am a young mage with no power and no knowledge from a land that does not even have magic. I cannot be here. I cannot. No." I began to cry. I suddenly wished that Stenvar was back in Windhelm. I felt safe with Stenvar. Stenvar was not the killer…. "I cannot be here with the undead things. No, no," I hung my head, trying to hide my tears. I hoisted my knapsack onto my back and headed for the guest room where I had kept more of my belongings. Yrsarald trailed behind me.

I saw that the mattress I had taken into Wuunferth's room had been dragged back and placed on the bedframe. I felt weak, and tired. I needed food, and likely more water. It wasn't until I set the knapsack down by the bed and sat down on the mattress that I realized my entire body was shaking. I began to sob. Yrsarald was still standing by the bed, and remained there, silent, for a minute or two, but then crouched down in front of me.

"What's wrong? Truly?" he asked in a deep, soothing voice.

I sniffled and wiped my tears away. "I… I am…." Just tell him, I commanded myself. I grabbed a fistful of the fabric of my mage's robe and focused on Yrsarald's eyes. "My most big fear, of all fears, anywhere, is the undead." I shuddered. My eyes blurred again with fresh tears, and I looked away. "Also…."

Yrsarald gripped my unanchored hand in one of his. "Yes?"

"Also," I gazed down at him again. I realized I must have acted like I was ready to go completely insane. He was truly concerned. I sighed. "I am very, very hungry."

Finally, Yrsarald smiled.