Chapter XX – Sanctuary
At long last they reached an entrance to an inconspicuous cavern.
The Sanctuary was supposed to be somewhere around, but it certainly didn't feel like a place to honor Kynareth's glory.
There were no more possible locations in the area though, so they had no choice left but to head inside.
Aeyrin felt a bit guilty about postponing her promise to Danica for so long, especially since most of the time she spent travelling around the Rift with no pressing tasks taking precedence. And what was worse, it would take longer still before they got back to Whiterun. Hopefully the priestess would understand, if Bishop was correct, the Greybeards were looking for her.
The back of her head began to burn uncomfortably when her mind wandered to the upcoming journey.
But maybe it would help. Maybe they knew of a way to make the pain stop when she would consume a dragon's soul, or maybe they knew of a way to control the power she let out by Shouting.
Even last time, when she was relatively far away from Bishop and Karnwyr while Shouting, she worried it may somehow hurt them. That strange force was invisible – it seemed to be directed where she was facing but the radius and the distance were a bit murky. And she couldn't really rely on her limited experience with that power. She already hurt Bishop with it once and she was too wary of it happening again.
As they entered the cavern, they were greeted by an unexpected sight.
The cavern walls were narrow but covered with lush ivy and other vines, the ground was filled with a myriad of wild flowers and grasses, creating a beautiful thick carpet. In the middle of the cavern entrance a spring was streaming gently, continuing its journey somewhere deeper beneath the earth. There was chirping and buzzing echoing through the narrow entrance.
They continued on through the lush vegetation until the cavern opened up before them.
The ceiling was open, surrounded by a tall cavernous wall. The inside was filled with a plethora of trees, bushes grasses and flowers. There were birds, insects and butterflies soaring through the air and wading through the grass. In the distance a large waterfall was flowing freely from the edge of the opened ceiling, sparkling enchantingly in the midday sun.
A large Cliffside was situated at the end of a winding green path filled with large dark brown roots. On top of the cliff, illuminated by a ray of sun, a great tree was towering with a lush crown of light pink leaves, falling slowly and calmly on the ground below it.
The view was breathtaking. Neither of them said a word as they slowly continued on towards the large tree in the distance.
Karnwyr ran off in the meantime, chasing after the birds and other critters playfully, disappearing into the thick vegetation.
"Welcome, pilgrims," a voice came out of nowhere, making them both look around in surprise.
A man came out of the thickets, wrapped in a small tunic made out of leaves, a long cloak reminiscent of a spider's webbing flowing behind him, strangely unaffected by the thorny growths around. He had a colorful wreath of flowers on his strawberry blond waist-long hair and a simple amulet with the shape of a flower petal hanging around his neck.
"Are you here to pay your respects to our mother Kynareth?" he asked calmly.
"Yes. And we also come on behalf of one of her priestesses in Whiterun. The Gildergreen is dying and we need the sap of the Eldergleam to restore it," Aeyrin nodded at him amicably.
The man observed them for a while, looking over their equipment, pausing at the ready weapons.
"You come ready for battle, under pretense of friendship. Flaunting nature's lessons," he gave them a disapproving look, but didn't move in any other way, not even to take on a defensive stance.
"What? What do you mean? I only came to help restore the tree. We're not here to attack anyone," Aeyrin looked at him in confusion.
"You come to take from the Eldergleam to restore which nature has taken in its great cycle. Nature's goal is not to restore but to grow anew. What is taken makes room for a glorious spring."
Aeyrin looked at him for a while, deep in thought. He was right about Kynareth's teaching of renewal, but it was only a little sap. Wouldn't it be worth the life of the great tree in Whiterun?
"Are you gonna stop us?" Bishop narrowed his eyes at the man, he didn't move for his weapon, but stood at the ready.
"No, you may pass as you like. Nature's fury defends her glory."
They continued along the vague path among the thickets, spotting several more worshippers along the way, all clad in similar trappings as the man, all eyeing them with unease and trepidation.
Aeyrin was still quiet, thinking to herself. There was a large chunk of dead tree in Whiterun. Would anyone even remove it? Would anything new ever grow on the ground, no doubt continuously trampled by the villagers? It was only sap after all.
They went on along the winding path, the place of peace and beauty suddenly very ominous and foreboding.
As they ascended, the giant roots of the Eldergleam started to move subtly until one of them hit the ground with a great slam, blocking their path firmly.
It was a sign.
What she was going to do was wrong. It was clear as day now.
"Great. What now? Hack at it? Or maybe that's what the dagger's for," Bishop grumbled, looking over his shoulder at the worshippers down below, still expecting them to attack at any moment.
He was right, that dagger was the one that cut Gildergreen from Eldergleam in the first place.
But to cut into the roots of more than a thousand year old tree seemed like sacrilege. No. There had to be another way. Some way which would help preserve Kynareth's influence in Whiterun and not hurt the tree.
She couldn't follow Danica blindly just because she was a priestess. She couldn't let herself lose her teachings in difficult situations. Blessings and favors… those were all she ever sought. Just because a way was different from what she expected, didn't mean it wasn't the right one. Just because something caused her pain, it didn't mean it wasn't meant to help. It was selfish of her to hide it. It was selfish to presume she knew better.
"He was right," Aeyrin turned to Bishop after a long while, shaking her head sadly. "I won't use the dagger."
Bishop studied her face for a while. She seemed… different, more determined. "So that's it? We came here for nothing?" he frowned. It seemed odd for her to give up on helping the temple.
"Not nothing," she smiled. "Didn't you want to show me everything worth seeing in Skyrim?" she chuckled at him lightly, turning back towards the large cavern, beautiful and wild.
Bishop's mouth quirked upwards. It was a nice place. That ominous feeling was suddenly all gone, as if their harmless intents were laid bare.
Before they turned to leave, the large root blocking their path creaked and shuffled before moving out of the way completely.
They shared a surprised look but continued along the clear path, running a little while they were under the root, in case it decided to smash again.
They made their way all the way to the Eldergleam, the chirping and buzzing around them intensifying.
The tree looked calm and serene, glowing in the midday sun, enveloping them in a strange feeling, like there was nothing and no one else in the world besides the scene they saw before them.
Aeyrin approached the tree slowly. The nearer she got, the more at peace she felt, like she used to deep in meditation in the temple.
The gentle pink leaves seemed to fall faster around her and there was a strange rustling heard from the tree's crown.
Suddenly, there under her feet, she noticed it.
A small sapling was springing from the ground, offering itself to her – a new life to replace the lost.
She bent down carefully, digging her hands into the earth and pulling the young tree from it, cradling it in her hands, staring at it in wonder.
Bishop looked at her for what seemed like an eternity.
She was standing there, under the great tree, the small pink petals falling everywhere around her, catching in her golden hair. The light illuminated her, making her skin glitter. She clutched a small sapling, looking at it with her black sparkling eyes. She looked like all the worry disappeared from her face, like her fears were a distant memory.
She looked so beautiful.
He fished around in his pack, not taking his eyes off her, pulled out a burlap sack and ripped its bottom off. He walked over to her, a bit hesitant to disturb the scene at first. But he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to.
He approached her and standing in front of her he opened the bottom of the sac, waiting for her to place the sapling with the soil into it so that they could carry it and keep it alive. As she placed the young tree inside and palmed the sac slightly to tamp the soil he placed his hands on hers, stroking them lightly.
She tilted her head upwards towards him and when she gave him a smile, he couldn't help himself. He leaned in and captured her lips in a passionate kiss, moving one of his hands at the small of her back to pull her closer to him.
She outstretched her arm which was holding the sapling to prevent it from being crushed between their bodies as she placed her other hand firmly on his back, digging her fingers into his leather armor, pushing herself as close against him as their equipment allowed.
When they parted, he brushed a few of the pink leaves from her hair, giving her a lopsided grin, his enthralled expression replaced by his familiar charmingly smug one. "You looked too irresistible, princess," he draped his arm over her shoulder, as she nuzzled her head against his chest lightly, still blushing deeply after that kiss.
"Come. We should leave before the tree gets prissy again," he chuckled as they reluctantly left the serene place in peace again.
The worshippers down under the winding path greeted them happily, commending them for their restraint.
They told them that the sapling will take time to grow, but that it would produce a beautiful strong tree. They ensured them that Kynareth's blessing would keep the sapling alive on their journey if they kept it watered.
They took out their largest empty potion bottle, carefully placing the sapling in the soil and sac inside and filled it with water, storing it in Aeyrin's pack in a way that the small crown would stick out and get plenty of sun and air.
They would have to be a bit more careful about preserving it but the worshippers assured them that it would even survive Skyrim's extreme cold and strong wind.
Karnwyr joined them after a while, likely getting tired of chasing birds and ready to find some real prey.
They left the cavern soon enough, ready for the next part of their journey.
…
They spotted another giant in the distance when they were on their way from the Sanctuary. At Aeyrin's insistence and with Bishop's constant complaints, they spent some time taking the bulk of the usable meat off the dead mammoth so that the villagers didn't risk their lives in giant territory and headed back towards Darkwater Crossing.
…
The grateful villagers insisted on celebrating again that night.
They spent the evening at their camp.
Aeyrin was entertaining them with a few songs and tales while Derkeethus actually convinced Bishop to teach him some basics of archery and swordsmanship, in case the Argonian ever got himself in trouble again.
They left in the morning, heading for the village of Ivarstead lying at the base of the large mountain.
Aeyrin seemed more at ease with visiting the sages on top. At one time, she even casually referred to herself as the Dragonborn while making a joke, much to Bishop's surprise.
He enjoyed her newfound self-assurance, there seemed to be more life to her. He smiled as he remembered the sight of her up by that tree. She always looked beautiful, even battle-worn and filthy, but that sight was something else.
He himself was surprised at how taken with her he could get. He never found a woman this enthralling. Maybe it was because most of his dalliances began just as chaotically and swiftly as they ended.
It was different this time – perhaps because she rejected his advances at first. Because he came to like her company before they got physical and now was worried that if he rushed anything, it would ruin what they already had.
Dammit, he was thinking like some milk-drinking bard. But every day it became more and more apparent that she was worth the the wait.