25

Itagaki.

Tilly was frantic, scrabbling at the edge of the door. She had already ripped one of her fingernails off, the blood dripping to the floor. Öenthir had collapsed against a wall, her entire body shaking, her face pale and drawn, staring at the door. Tilly pulled out one of her many knives, thrusting it into the gap trying, desperate, to pry it open, only for the knife to snap in tow, the hilt jarred from the dark elf's hand and clattering to the floor. She began pounding on the door, then.

"Tilly." Itagaki ignored the pain from the arrow in her leg and reached out to the Dunmer. "Tilly! Stop!"

"I can't leave her!" Tilly returned to trying to open the door with her ripped and torn fingers. "I can't! I have to get back in there!"

"We are not going to leave her!" She finally caught the hem of Tilly's nobleman's coat and pulled her away from the door. Tilly turned on her with fire in her eyes. "We cannot get back in that way. We will go back in for her, I promise. We will find her, but we must remove this arrow from my leg first."

She turned her leg, biting her lip and tried to get a look at her injury. The arrow had passed through her leather armour like it hadn't been there, but she couldn't see the wound itself.

"Just pull it out! Get up!" Tilly pulled her coat from Itagaki's hand with a savagery that Itagaki didn't expect. "You're the stoical warrior, deal with it and let's get her!"

"I cannot just pull it out. If it is a normal pile, fine. If it is barbed, it will only cause more damage." She reached for Tilly's hand. "Please, Tilly, you must cut it out or I will be of no use to Revna."

Tilly looked at Itagaki and then the door, then spun back to Itagaki. Tilly didn't spare any dignity, flipping Itagaki onto her front, pulling out her sharpest knife and started cutting away the armour around the arrow. She wasn't gentle about it, only doing it as fast as she could.

Itagaki couldn't see what Tilly was doing, but she felt her armour pulled aside and then the knife cutting into her skin. She managed to hold in the scream, grunting in pain as the knife was dug into her flesh. Soon, she felt the arrow turning before Tilly pulled it out. She let out a whimper then.

"Öenthir? Do you have the strength to staunch the bleeding?" She was sweating now. Tilly dropped the bloody arrow to the floor. It was, indeed, barbed. Öenthir looked at her with eyes she had trouble holding open.

"I'll try." The Bosmer crawled towards her, almost unable to do even that. Öenthir held her hand against Itagaki's leg, closing her eyes and Itagaki felt a warm feeling flood the area of her injury. "That ... that's the best I can do."

Itagaki reached behind, placing her hand on the wound and then looked at her fingers. There was blood, but not as much as she would have expected. It would do, for now. She removed her long sword's scabbard from her sash, replaced the blade and used the two together to force herself to her feet. It was difficult. It was painful, but she could suffer it.

Tilly helped Öenthir to her feet and, with the aid of the mage's staff, began to move towards a nearby set of steps leading upward. Progress was slower than they hoped, especially Tilly, but it was progress. They soon found themselves at a junction with steps leading downwards in two other directions and another set leading upwards again. They climbed once more.

They soon found the door out of the Barrows and the bitter cold outside hit them as if they had walked into a solid wall. There, down a few steps, Corhan was waiting as he said he would be, sat beside a small fire, the horses tied nearby. He looked up as the three of them approached.

"You made it out then?" He stood and helped Itagaki to the fire.

"Not all of us." She caught the furious look as Tilly's head snapped towards her. Corhan looked back up the steps and his shoulders slumped.

"Revna?" He looked into Itagaki's eyes. "Ysmir, no!"

"You people can stand around preparing her funeral, but I'm going back for her!" Tilly was already untying her horse to ride back to the main entrance to the Barrows. "She's not dead. She's not!"

Itagaki bowed her head. She felt tired and in pain, but Tilly was right. They had to go back. Weary, she fought against the pain and her exhaustion, untying her horse and managing to scramble into the saddle. Öenthir, more tired than any of them, also moved to her horse.

"Are you all mad?" Despite his words, Corhan helped Öenthir into her saddle. "If you go back in there, there'll be four dead, not one."

"You'll shut up and help us, old man!" Tilly produced a throwing knife and pointed it at Corhan. "Or I'll use your corpse to hold open the doors!"

The old hunter closed his mouth and glowered at Tilly, then he spat into the fire, turned and jumped into the saddle of Revna's horse with a grace that belied his advanced age.

"Damned fools." He shook his head as Tilly led the way back to the main entrance.

Itagaki didn't want to say it, she didn't want to think it, but she feared they would be far too late. There had been too many draugr. They had taken too long getting back to the surface. All she could expect was to be able to retrieve her friend's body and give her a warrior's funeral.

ii. Öenthir.

Her entire body ached. Casting the Crystal Shards spell, as incredible as that had felt, and then holding her protection spell as a wall, for so long, had exhausted her so much. She could hardly walk, couldn't even think straight. Yet she kept moving. She had to.

Tilly led the way, impatient at the speed that she and Itagaki were moving, but there was nothing they could do. She had managed to slow the Redguard's bleeding, but her healing spell had done nothing to heal the wounded muscle the arrow had hit. Walking for her must cause incredible pain, but she kept moving. She had to, as Öenthir did.

They had reentered the Barrow as soon as possible. Corhan had assured them that he would hold the door open, somehow, and they had rushed inside without any consideration of what they would meet after Æfiror had woken the dead. She didn't even notice that the oppressive feeling they had felt throughout their first foray had lessened.

The Barrow was silent. She considered, as they say, too silent? Retracing their steps, passing the three draugr they had defeated earlier, down stairs and through the corridors and doors, they moved as fast as they could to find their friend. To find Revna.

Reaching the final chamber, they didn't find a horde of draugr waiting for them, they found an empty room, save for the beaten, crushed and dismembered corpses that had once been moving past the point of death.

They stepped through the draugr on the floor, weapons at the ready. She couldn't cast a spell, no matter how much she could try, but she still had her staff. The staff Revna had carved for her with such care and detail.

They rounded the great stone throne of Æfiror and saw what they had feared. What they had wished and prayed would not be the case. Revna. Slumped against the closed door. Bloodied. Several arrows had pierced her body. She had lost an ear. One arm hung limp at her side, the other still clutching the grip of her greatsword, Jotnbann. Her head hung against her chest. Unmoving.

Tilly reached her first, throwing herself to her knees, clutching her friends face and lifting it with a gentleness Öenthir had never seen from Tilly. As she held Revna's head, the Khajiit's eyes flickered and then, faltering, opened. She saw Tilly's face and smiled through blood flecked lips.

"Little elf." Revna's voice was a croak, almost inaudible.

"Hush. It's alright. We've got you." Tilly smoothed the fur on Revna's face and kissed her forehead. "We've got you."

Öenthir knelt on the floor in front of her friend and examined the injuries. She knew that there was little she could do. Even at full strength, she wasn't sure if she could heal enough of the wounds to make a difference. Itagaki knelt beside Revna, opposite Tilly, and clasped the Khajiit's hand. Revna, halting, turned her head towards the Redguard.

"You should have seen it. It was a glorious battle. Glorious." Revna coughed several times, spitting blood onto her armour. "Although ... I think I should have stayed with the Scorpion Black armour."

Even now, she was still making jokes. Öenthir covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back her tears.

"Hold on, you big bloody oaf!" Tilly wiped the blood from Revna's mouth. "Wen's going to heal you. Everything will be alright."

"I don't think so. Not this time." Revna turned her head back to Tilly. "It's alright. It's a good death. It could have been worse. I could have been eaten by a troll."

"No. No! You will not give up! Tell her, Wen. Tell her you can heal her!" Öenthir couldn't look Tilly in the eye, dipping her head. "No. You can't die, you walking bloody carpet. You can't ... you can't leave me. You ... you're my friend."

Revna began coughing, more blood dripping from her mouth, her body jerking with each cough. She began sliding sideways before Itagaki caught her, holding her in her arms. The Khajiit looked up into Itagaki's eyes and seemed to recognise her for the first time.

"Do you think they will accept me in Sovngarde?" Her voice was almost a whisper.

"They will accept you, sister, or you will make them!" Itagaki's voice was soothing and calm, even as tears fell from her eyes. "You will shake the walls with your voice. With Jotnbann in hand you will tear down the doors. You will take their mead from their hands and they will say 'Here is a warrior! Here is a true daughter of Skyrim!'"

Öenthir couldn't stop herself. She began to sob, burying her face in her hands. She felt a hand catching hers, pulling it down. Itagaki held her hand, even as she held Revna in her other arm. She looked down and Öenthir followed her eyes. Revna was looking ahead, now, as if she could see something far away. The Khajiit smiled.

"Tilly." As the air escaped her lungs for the final time, she had called to her friend. The one person she had attached to before any of the others. The person she had fought so hard to gain the friendship of. It was her final word.

Tilly stumbled on to her feet, stepping backwards several feet. Her blue/grey skin blanched. Her eyes were wide and her brow furrowed. She said nothing, only staring at Revna's still form.

Öenthir's heart felt like it was breaking. She had never had to deal with the death of someone close to her. She had been spared that. Now she felt that she was about to break. Not only by her own emotions, but by the grief rippling through the binding. She had begun to be able to tell who was feeling what, through the binding, and Itagaki's grief was much like herself. Hard, like a wall, but hiding great empathy within.

But there was something new crashing through the binding. A tidal wave of grief that Öenthir couldn't bare. The emotion, so powerful, so raw, so unfiltered, threatened to overwhelm her, to carry her along in a maelstrom of pain and she knew, finally, that Tilly could feel.

iii. Tilly.

They had all been discussing what to do with Revna's body, as if it were only another problem to solve. She stared at them, sat around the campfire, casual, eating as they talked about whether the Khajiit should be taken back to Riften, or to Winterhold. Whether she should be embalmed in a Hall of the Dead and interred in a Barrow with all the other great warriors. Whether she should be placed an a pyre and burned.

It was like they had already moved on and that the body of their friend was not laid not ten feet away, wrapped in the brilliant white cloak she had kept with her ever since Hew's Bane.

Sitting apart from the others, she pulled her cloak tighter as the night winds gusted around them. Her friend was dead. Revna, that ridiculous creature that considered herself a Nord was gone. How could they act like nothing had happened? Beneath the cloak, her hand clutched the necklace that Revna had made for her. The Reachmen's love charm, carved, so painstaking, so beautiful, and given to her at a time when she still very much disliked the Khajiit.

And, she considered, that was why she felt so guilty. Revna had only ever been kind to her. Had only ever tried to be her friend. Despite the snide, nasty comments that Tilly had often made to her, Revna had remained steadfast, continued treating her with trust, kindness and friendship.

When Itagaki and Öenthir had (and, she had to admit, justified in doing so) ostracised her, it was Revna that had continued talking to her, even though she agreed with the other two. It wasn't in her nature to turn someone away like that.

"We should take her home. To be with her mothers." It was the first words she had said since Revna had died. In a faraway voice that the others strained to hear. "She would want to be with them."

"To Ingrstad?" Corhan chewed on the wild boar meat he had caught and cooked. "It doesn't exist anymore."

"It's where her mothers were entombed and the villagers cremated on a pyre, isn't it?" Her ice cold glare caught him and held his eyes. "That's where she would want to be."

"She died a hero's death. She should have the honour of a hero's funeral." Itagaki paused her sword maintenance.

"That's not who she was. She didn't want recognition. Did you even know her? At all?" Finding her voice again, she found herself angry at Itagaki. "Family. Family and friends. That was Revna! If we'd all returned to Riften, all conquering heroes, she would have been the one standing at the back, embarrassed at the attention. Saying that she'd hardly done a thing. Saying that it was you, Itagaki, that had killed the most monsters. Or that you, Öenthir, had shown bravery even as you almost exhausted yourself. Oblivion's sake! She'd even push me forward and say if it wasn't for me she'd be dead, or you'd be dead, or some other ridiculous thing to make me look better than I was!"

She continued glaring at them all as they lapsed into silence, the flames of the campfire flickering in the icy wind. Itagaki exchanged glances with Öenthir. Corhan continued eating. The silence ran, seeming to last forever before Itagaki put away her sword.

"How far to Ingrstad?" She asked Corhan.

"Set off in the morning, we'll be there by mid-day." The old hunter picked something from his mouth and flicked it into the flames of the campfire.

"Then our sister is going home." Nodding at Tilly, Itagaki rose to her feet and walked to the body of Revna. She placed a hand on the white cloak, bowing her head, before returning to the campfire and climbing into her bed roll. "We should all rest. We have a funeral pyre to build tomorrow."

Tilly didn't rest. She couldn't. Every time she tried closing her eyes, she felt an emptiness. The binding was only supposed to share strong emotions, but the strongest emotion she had felt from Revna had been happiness, and that had been almost constant. Of course, she had felt her underlying rage. That emotion she had kept buried, imprisoned inside her, rarely letting it loose. Her happiness was never constrained. She let that emotion show whenever she could and the binding, without the Khajiit's happiness, was now so much colder.

Shortly before noon the next day, they reached ruin that had been Ingrstad. At its height, the village had counted around twenty buildings, a fishing jetty that stretched out into the Sea of Ghosts, and a modest mead hall.

None of it remained standing. Here and there, the remains of a house would point its broken and burned timbers skyward, reaching for the heavens. The wild had started to swallow the village. Snow had piled up against whatever remains of buildings there were. Trees and bushes had begun growing where once people had walked. The jetty, broken and collapsed.

In the centre of the village, there were still the signs of the great funeral pyre that Revna and Corhan had made. A communal farewell to family, friends and colleagues. Now windswept and barren.

It took them hours to gather enough wood and kindling to build the pyre for their friend and it was almost dark when they finally placed Revna's body atop the construction. They had tidied her up as best they could, washing the blood from her fur and her armour, removing the arrows that had pierced her body.

They dressed her in the bright, white cloak, that had covered her on the journey to Ingrstad, and placed her precious sword, Jotnbann, in her hands and laid on her chest. At her feet, they placed the Scorpion Black armour and by her sides they placed each of her remaining weapons. Corhan even placed a skin of mead, he had been saving, beside her. In case you suffered a thirst on her way to Sovngarde.

As the sun began to set, they each lit a torch and stood at a corner of the pyre. No-one said anything. There was nothing that they could say. Their beloved friend was gone and it was for each of them to remember her in their own, silent, personal ways.

Tilly lit her corner first, stepping back. Itagaki followed, then Öenthir and finally Corhan. Corhan, despite his gruff, daedra-may-care attitude looked as sad as any of them. Of course he would, thought Tilly, this was the third member of the family he had had to say goodbye to.

The pyre soon became an inferno, sending flames and sparks high into the sky. Even the wind seemed to disappear, allowing the fire to burn at its own pace, engulfing the body of Revna.

Tilly felt alone. More alone than she had ever felt. And she felt something else. Her hand reached up to her face and came away wet. Tears. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried.