Chapter 2
Days later Eira finally followed the path curving around the base of the Great Mountain. It was near midnight; the only lights to be seen were the flecks in the distance that was Whiterun. She picked up the pace, wanting to be out of the city before the sun came up.
It was very important that she locate Vex before these people discovered that she didn't know where the Dragonborn was just like the rest of Skyrim. After the dragons came back they were simultaneously defeated. Alduin had fallen and nobody had even glimpsed the Dragonborn's face, let alone known where he went to live out the rest of his days.
After another hour of walking Whiterun's gate finally loomed over her. The guards at the gate charged her a hefty bribe for access to the city. Eira mounted the steps towards the Cloud district, stopping short at the warrior hall Jorvaskr. First thing was first: She had to find Vex.
Very briefly had she read that job Vex had given her in the first place. It involved stealing something of value from Vignar Gray-Mane; the man was wealthy and a legend. That also made him a target for enemies and thieves alike.
Jorrvaskr was quiet as Eira silently circled it and stepped onto the back porch. If she remembered the diagram of the building layout correctly, Vignar's room was upstairs. Noise gave her pause, freezing her into the shadow which she hid. There was an enemy about, Eira could smell his scent and hear his footfalls around the other side of Jorrvaskr.
He's keeping watch. She mused, as she slid in through the back door.
Her body stiffened when it creaked ever so slightly. Peeking inside, she was shocked to see more than one Companion passed out at their mead hall table. They were trying to drink away their sorrows, just as Eira would do the same.
Not yet. She hissed to herself and Vex, wherever she may be.
Knowing she was in danger of being caught, Eira quickly crouched and snuck inside; Vignar's room was to her right and she beelined for the door. There was somebody sleeping in one of the beds as she came in; by the sound of his snores he wasn't waking up anytime soon.
Something stirred in her chest, a faint crackling sizzled in the air as she stepped towards the crime scene beside Vignar's bed.
Eira searched for a sign of struggle, seeing that the Companions were probably doing their own investigating. They had left the crime scene as they had found it, minus a body. Blood stained the floor in a puddle as if Vignar had been standing when his throat was cut. She assumed that was how it had been done, all the others had died the same way.
Eira looked through the drawer on the bedside table; pausing when she heard somebody stir out in the mead hall. She kept rifling through, finding a letter in the top drawer of Vignar's dresser.
"Whoever really killed him was wounded before he came in here… why?" She whispered to herself. She opened the letter slowly, skimming over it before her eyes widened a little. "A death threat?" Eira muttered in surprise. "From who?" There was no signature on it, or a name.
"What does it matter to you?" A voice filled with hatred spit in her ear.
Fear clutched her belly for a second and her blood ran cold. She turned too late, her weapon not coming out fast enough. What felt like a claw threw her against the wall and she felt the wind leave her body as she hit the window frame; the glass shattered all around her. Her face stung as she fell, the glass biting through her gloves and pricking her palms as she landed ungracefully outside. It was him; it was the warrior that had basically handed her all that gold on her way back to Riften.
If looks could kill. She grimaced hard. This man was different from the one she had met on the road. This man was grieving and he wanted revenge as he lunged out the window after her.
Gasping, Eira barely managed to yank her sword out to block against the sharp edge of his greatsword from slicing her in two. His nostrils flared above her as she fought against him with all her strength. Sweat beaded down her neck as she whispered an incantation.
Eira head butted him and kneed him between the legs as the hilt of his greatsword started to turn aglow. He howled in pain and Eira scrambled to get away. The guards would be coming now that he made such a racket. Not only that, but the rest of the Companions were surely not far behind him.
Her feet carried her swiftly down the hill towards the gate. Something warm dripped into her right eye. She smeared it away, the smell of fresh blood hitting her nose. She slid down a waterfall, into the market. Racing around the corner she hustled faster as the gate came into view.
Something hard and sharp pierced her leg; Eira went down hard as she felt her leg stiffen beneath her.
"Shit!" She grit through her teeth. She jumped up, and immediately fell down again when her leg gave out.
"You aren't getting away from me that easily!" She heard a voice howl as she tried to stand. A large hand grabbed her and she elbowed him in the head. He growled and backed up enough for her to get a dagger between them. He paused when she looked up at him. Her hood had fallen from her head and he was actually looking her in the face.
"Stop." She heaved, breathing hard as she sat gripping her leg with a shaking hand. There was an arrow sticking out of it, but it hadn't even gone halfway through. Pain laced through her as she yanked it out sharply with a cry. "I know you're grieving, my people didn't do this to you. I enforce this rule more than any other; we do not kill. I'm here to find who is responsible."
She silenced herself when his eyes narrowed to slits. "You're people should never have come near us." He hissed.
For the first time in a long time, fear pierced her chest. Not of the guards surrounding her or the Jarl that would soon sentence her to death at the top of the hill. No; for the first time in a very long time, Eira was truly afraid of a man.
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Farkas gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. He knew better when his brother was late. His brother was never late. He had been sent to Windhelm to end somebody's squirmish and he should have been back days ago. Farkas didn't want his twin to hear of the adopted father's death from another. It had to come from him.
As much as he wanted to stay and watch them hang that thief in the morning, he had to find his brother. Too early, he rose from his bed and pulled on his warmest furs. It was cold in Windhelm; a hard lesson he had learned from experience.
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Farkas trekked towards the gates. Frost covered the earth, sparkling in the rays of early sunshine. The air was crisp on his tongue, a breeze licking his arms. Farkas counted out the coin for a ride to Windhelm; the carriage was rolling away as he came down the path. He ran to catch up, his armor clanking as loud as his shout to the driver.
"Hey!" He yelled, the carriage driver's back perked up. He smiled and handed the coin over to a hesitant hand. "Give me a ride to Windhelm?" He asked.
The driver was bundled up for the cold weather already. Furs wrapped around him, Farkas could barely see his eyes. The driver nodded and slapped the reigns. Farkas jumped into the back as it rolled by, he rubbed his palms together when he felt an electric shock traveling through him irately. He shook it off and sat down with a huff as it faded.
He set his bag at his feet and withdrew his greatsword. Pulling out a whetstone he began to sharpen the edge of his blade. This was going to be a long carriage ride.
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Eira hissed under her breath as the noise of the whetstone continued. Of all the people to run into while she was making her escape. A deep sigh was building in her chest. Her stomach growled loudly, she gripped it tightly, hoping it wasn't that loud. Her leg itched from the healing spell she had finished only a short while ago, another large arrow shaped scar added to her collection.
They were silent aside from the wheels on the path and the scrape of Farkas' whetstone. The crisp air felt good in her lungs as the breeze continued to hit her back; she gripped her stomach again when it made another noise.
"Here." She turned when she heard the voice beside her. "Eat."
The thief was surprised but did not argue, taking the bread the man had to offer. She nodded in thank you.
"I'm Farkas." He told her, she could hear him lean back in his seat. "And you are?"
The woman said nothing, taking a large bite from the bread instead.
"Good to meet you." He responded to himself without humor.
That was the only conversation they had as they rumbled down the beaten path towards Windhelm. Eira listened to Farkas sharpen his sword for miles. Every swipe seemed to add more and more electricity to the air. Eira knew she was imagining it, even when the little shocks started chasing each other over her back. Soon enough she was sure it would cut her if she looked at the blade.
"Heard any news lately?" He asked her gruffly, something in his voice sounded off. Could he feel that too?
Eira blinked at the horse's manes, trying to decide whether to respond, or whether there was an enemy casting sparks upon them.
"A little." She answered quietly. "What about you?"
Farkas sighed, "Well, I know there's a huge bounty on the Dragonborn's head. There are a lot of people looking for him. Nobody knows what happened to him after he defeated the Dragon King. Aside from that, the Thieves Guild has been murdering people and the Dark Brotherhood has been silent."
Eira's ears were burning red with irritation. "I hadn't heard that." She said.
"A lot of people think the two Guilds are combining." He stated.
"I know that isn't true." She retorted. "The Thieves Guild is known to abide by their no killing rule."
"Well they haven't, have they. They killed my father."
Eira said nothing, knowing further argument would only make him irate. Her chest ached a little for him, but it didn't linger. Everybody had a hard life, dwelling upon it would not help your odds.
Her ears were alert as they finally reached the end of the canyon and plunged into the forest. The energy continued to hum in the air between them, both only thinking it their imagination. The trees cast shadows on them as the sun was almost halfway up the sky. It had been a few hours, but at the rate they were traveling they would reach Windhelm by the next evening.
Something wasn't right as they waded deeper into the trees. The hair was standing on the back of Eira's neck. She heard the arrow before she saw it. Her dagger whipped out of its sheath under her cloak and barely deflected the arrow that had been aimed at her heart.
She stood fluidly, drawing her bow, string in hand as she notched an arrow. She brought it to her cheek, aimed, fired, and reloaded in one movement, hearing a scream from the bushes when her shot hit flesh.
"Hold!" A voice shouted.
Five figures drew out of the brush cautiously. Eira felt the arrows aimed at her back due to the footfalls echoing off the cart. A cloaked figure stood behind them; Eira could feel a dark presence masked behind it.
"Who are you?" She demanded, standing slowly and bringing her aim to rest just above the man's heart. Farkas stood in the back of the cart still, his sword halfway out of its sheath.
"We have no money." Eira spit, "What do you want besides death?"
"Eira the Nimble, undisclosed leader of the Thieves Guild." The voice speaking from beneath the cloak made her skin crawl. That voice wasn't one being. She could sense the dark power behind it. "You have been tasked with bringing us the Dragonborn."
Silence stretched on for a moment, then Eira let out a humorless laugh.
"You're joking right?" She hissed, re-aiming at the man's chest.
"If you do not comply, your guildmate will die. Along with the companion who so conveniently tried to protect her." The figure smiled, and Eira felt Farkas tense behind her.
"Where is my brother?!" He yelled angrily, jumping out of the carriage with a boom. The men around them shifted their weapons uneasily.
"If you do not bring us the Dragonborn, they will both die and we will start a war between your guilds." The man threatened.
Eira let her arrow loose. The figure drew out a dagger and deflected the point before flicking the weapon at her. The thief yelped when it embedded in the cart behind her, narrowly missing her. She took aim once more, nailing a thug just as he was swinging a sword around to meet Farkas' back.
"Only one of you may leave this place. One of you must claim the dragonborn, for the guild who does not will lose a guildmate." The figure waved two hands and Eira felt a spell ripple through the air. Her magicka reacted, she narrowly raised a shield in time to protect herself.
Her arrows were a rapid fire as she hit the cloaked figure once, twice, three, four times. With a heave it hit the ground. Eira ripped the cloak away to watch the conjuration disappear into a pile of dust.
"No!" She screamed at the dust. "Where are they!"
It was gone in a flash; Eira turned and watched Farkas take down the last bandit. He turned towards her, eyes red all the way through. Eira backed up, putting a dagger between them again. The spell had taken effect over him before she had killed it. She may be smaller, but she was fiercer. Eira wavered for a moment as the faced each other. Electricity crackled between them, jolting Eira from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
He knocked her dagger from her hand and she kicked his greatsword from his hands in response. Eira lunged at him and wrapped a leg around his to force him to the ground. They rolled for a minute, fighting for the top as they scrambled in the cold grass and dirt. Finally Eira found herself on the bottom. His weight was too much and he pinned her arms at her sides as he wrapped two huge hands around her neck and squeezed.
Electricity surrounded them as his skin touched hers.
Air. She pleaded, struggling beneath him as he squeezed the life out of her. The electricity had nowhere to go between them and exploded with immense power as Farkas was hurled away from her.
Eira gasped desperately for air but she couldn't move. Her vision was blurry as the world tilted into darkness.
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Vilkas shifted out of sleep due to discomfort in his lower back. The ache pulled tighter as he moved. He blinked his eyes open, seeing only the blurry insides of a cell. Heavy shackles weighed his wrists and ankles down. The smell of burning skin told him they were made of silver. He registered the burning pain a moment later. He used the pain to hold onto his consciousness.
They gave me something. He thought bitterly, trying not to slip back into sleep.
He could hear a buzzing in the background, a ringing in his ears. He didn't notice it at all until it was gone.
Screaming.
He grimaced and reached for the small pitcher of water beside him. Sure enough, he could smell herbs in it. He poured it out slowly, into the corner farthest from him. Vilkas sat back down with a huff and a clank.
The last thing he remembered was returning to Whiterun and meeting three men kidnapping a woman. He had stepped in and they had used the woman to gain his surrender. Somebody had hit him hard from behind before he woke up here.
The man stilled when he heard a dragging sound coming towards him.
The door to his cell was unlocked and thrown open. A woman was thrown in roughly and the door was promptly locked behind her. Vilkas waited for them to leave before inspecting her further. It was her alright, the one he had gotten imprisoned for protecting.
She was bruised and beaten, bleeding on her arms. He cursed himself for dumping the water and went to work dressing her wounds before she woke up.
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