Sundas, the 28th of Hearthfire, 4E201


Hey Lydia,

(and everyone else)

I've gone to check out the spot that the Greybeards said needed checking out and I got a bit sidetracked. There was a ton of creepy people here, then a dragon showed up… Things got out of hand fast, basically.

I'll track it down and then be back in Riverwood as soon as I can.

Yours as always,

Saya


The hawk made a small clicking noise, as if acknowledging Saya tying a letter to its leg. She smiled, giving a gentle pat on the head to the avian familiar before mentally commanding it where to go. With one more affirmative squeak, the bird then took off, it's iridescent feathers glistening in the morning sun.

Saya watched it fly as she put away her supplies. She had taken the liberty of resting in one of the ancient stone huts around the ruin, getting her sleeping bag from one of the cultists' tents. With the benefit of hindsight, the Dragonborn scolded herself for leaving all the supplies to Lydia, being left with only a few snacks that she still had on her. It did not matter too much, though. She wasn't a stranger to obtaining her meals in the wild - especially when the wild consists of a large encampment full of money, supplies, and food that she could use.

A hearty meal was had that morning - a lot more luxurious than what she'd normally allow herself during travel. And so, well rested and fed, the Dunmer set off to fulfill her next objective: finding the dragon from yesterday. She vaguely recalled the direction it flew in, but with the help of Aura Whisper, she figured it shouldn't be too hard to single out a creature like that.

The sky was dark with the gathering clouds. "Probably going to rain soon." She sighed, slung her pack on her shoulders, and finally moved out.


While exploring the place I actually found the word wall that Arngeir wanted me to investigate. "Gaan."

For once, I think I could actually kind of understand what it was saying - it was a memorial for someone named Svolo, who was strong enough to kill (I think it's "kill"?) a dragon, but failed at something else, which I assume resulted in his death.

Gah, I feel like a kid. It's so exciting, I wonder what all the other word walls I've visited before say.

I got a ping for where the dragon went. It's not very strong, but I think I'll be able to track it… I'll have to come up with a plan on how to take it down.

I also took the mask of that cultist. It's a little big for me, but I think I can use it… Somehow.

And if all else fails, I still have the weird Atronach… Ability. Thing. Which I still haven't figured out how to use. I should probably get on that, shouldn't I.

Eh, it can wait.


Found it. I was right after all - this one's nocturnal. Sound asleep. And there's a pretty convenient spot for me to get the drop on him…

I love it when the circumstances align like this.


If there was one thing that Saya regretted not doing, it would be expanding her horizons in the realm of magic. The numerous lectures from her mother and other teachers remained in her head as dull noise, with her interest only peaking whenever something she was truly curious about became the topic of the lesson. As a result, she ended up becoming a capable pyromancer - and yet found herself sorely lacking in just about every other area.

However, the intelligence of the student is only half the task, as the other half falls upon the teacher to properly explain the material. And thankfully, Saya's mother was a smart woman, and so she knew when to test her apathetic little girl to make sure that she at least knew the basics. It was those old tests that she would try and recall now, far away from home, cursing herself under her breath when the spell refused to weave as she commanded, but laughing with joy when it finally did. The magicka tingled at her fingertips, turning into sparks of magical lightning that arced off her hand. Carefully, she glided the palm across the surface of Stormblade, and grinned with satisfaction when the streaks were drawn to the sword instead of disappearing, dancing within the blade back and forth.

The last of her preparations finally done, the Dragonborn walked towards the cliff edge, looking downwards at her target. The dragon was not yet awake, instead curled up in front of a word wall, sheltered from the heavy rain by a natural overhang created by the very rocks she stood upon. Masked by the noise of rain, the Dunmer made the climb down, careful with every movement she made so as to not wake it up. She had considered getting the literal drop on it like she did with the one back at Skyborn Altar, but all the stone spikes protruding from its back made her quite swiftly reconsider.

With held breath, she stepped onto the ground below, approaching the snoring dragon with the care of a hunter stalking a sabercat. Only, this particular sabercat was about 30 meters long and could breathe fire. The metaphor was falling apart a bit, so Saya shook her head, getting the hair out of her eyes before readying the sparkling Stormblade. Carefully, she stepped around the dragon, looking for the beast's head. Then finally, once spotted, she lifted the greatsword into the air and plunged it into the creature's right eye socket.

The first thing that happened was a large explosion of lightning, breaking out in all directions. Blood spilled forth, bolts of magicka arcing off them and into the surrounding stone. The dragon, as expected, began to stir, a deep roar of pain rumbling from its throat as the beast did its best to rise, unfurling its wings. Knowing what's about to happen, Saya quickly pulled her blade out and became ethereal, safe from the enraged flailing of wings and spitting of flame that followed immediately after.

Once the dragon finally came to its senses, the Dragonborn dashed beneath it, passing through its neck and torso and ending up right under its wing. Like cutting open fish, she drew Stormblade along the right wing of her opponent, severing the patagium that allowed it to take flight. The dragon did not take kindly to this, raising the damaged appendage and flapping it in an attempt to aimlessly smack away the assailant. In response, Saya slipped underneath the dragon, only to repeat the process once more on the other side.

The dragon hissed, and she could see its ribcage expand as it drew a breath of the petrichor around it - and for just a brief moment, she could've sworn there was a red crack right in the middle of it. Suddenly, the dragon's form vanished altogether, and a strong gust of wind almost blew the Dragonborn away, seemingly sourceless. Saya quickly got back onto her feet, turning around in the direction of the gale, and saw her enemy reform back from thin air on one of the stone towers directly in front of its sleeping spot overlooking the Rift - which earned them their apt name: Autumnwatch Towers.

"Nikrin." The dragon spat, turning around and glaring at the Dragonborn with its remaining eye.

A small smirk graced Saya's expression while she drew the ebony dagger from its sheath. "Look who's talking." She quipped, waiting for the dragon to make a move while she stepped just a bit closer, letting the rain wash over her once more.

It hissed, turning its body to face her. "You will regret not dying to the diille while I allowed you to." It lifted its head, releasing yet another Shout. Saya couldn't help but briefly envy its recovery time before its effects made themselves known. "QETH, KRII GOL!"

All of a sudden, the very ground beneath Saya's feet began to rumble. By her immediate instinct, the Dragonborn leapt away. Barely a moment later, the floor where she was standing erupted into a formation of stone spikes, and she noticed with alarm that the same vibrations were still lingering beneath her. Rushing away, the Dragonborn ran to the only safe place available to her - straight at the dragon, to the tower it was standing on. Yet, rather than run into the dragon's readied jaws, she leapt down - straight at the tower itself, grabbing onto one of the windows. She looked up, and as the flames began to build within the dragon's mouth she jumped once more, running along the wall and latching onto the ledge that marked the separation of floor one and two, before she finally let go and safely landed onto the grass, rolling to absorb the impact.

"Bovun? You are an embarrassment to our kind." The beast roared, circling around at the top of the tower as it struggled to find her, looking for her with its one eye. The Dragonborn, in the meantime, had already made a run for it, getting inside the tower and facing upwards. Then, the girl mustered up all of her strength, she took a deep breath and loosed a full-power Unrelenting Force straight above her. The floor shook under the dragon, before suddenly it felt a crack beneath its feet. With a combination of the Shout pushing upwards and the weight of the creature pushing down, the ceiling of the ancient tower gave way, collapsing in on itself. Once more, the dragon released a scream of bewilderment and alarm as it tried to grab onto the tower and claw its way out. The damaged stones could scarcely resist its strength, one of the walls completely breaking down, and the dragon fell out of the tower onto the ground below, rolling over onto its back.

It was precisely then that Saya came dashing out of the ruins she had just created and leapt onto the dragon's wing, using it to get onto its torso. She had already taken notice that its voice had been raspier than the ones she had heard before, but it wasn't until she first attacked it that she had taken notice of the scar in its chest - a single spot where its stone scales were broken, the plate-like armor on its chest almost completely split in half. And so, with all the power she had in her body, she plunged Stormblade straight into that opening before striking the pommel with her hand, pushing it even deeper in like a chisel, and ripped it out violently.

Blood sprayed from the wound and the dragon began thrashing around once more. The very next second Saya found herself being thrown off the creature's body, sending her rolling down the hill while it flipped over and got up onto its feet, shrieking in pure rage. Once she had finally caught herself, she could see the dragon try and draw breath for another Shout, only for choked coughs to emerge from its bloodied mouth. Saya's internal countdown was still ticking, preparing for her final assault, so she moved her sword-arm aside while she conjured a fireball that fizzled every time the pouring rain dropped into the flames, evaporating instantly. Giving it her best pitch, the Dragonborn threw it, aiming for its left eye. The beast quickly shut its stony eyelid, leaving itself blind to the second fireball that followed soon after, exploding underneath it into a burst of flames that gnawed at its bleeding wound, prying yet another pained gasp from the dragon.

This assault of fire continued, explosion after explosion lining the dragon and the ground around it. Frustration continued to swell within the creature's mind, every stab of pain echoing a hundredfold as they were chained together, one after another, until the dragon completely ran out of patience. With a mighty roar, it rose onto its hind feet and swung its crippled wings, deflecting any projectiles she kept sending its way before planting them back down onto the floor and beginning to run towards her, its mouth slobbering with spit and blood. Saya dashed to the left, just narrowly avoiding the dragon's destructive bite and hiding in its blind zone. Its neck curled and it tried once more, clamping down its jaws at random in hopes of getting something, but only chewing air as the Dragonborn slid underneath him and ran around, emerging behind the dragon and standing on higher ground than it did.

And so, the recovery period was finally over.

"Hey one-eye!" She shouted, watching the dragon shamble around in the mud to turn and look at her, its single pupil as thin as a razor's edge with a feral anger. The Dragonborn raised her left arm, pointing Stormblade into the sky while she continued speaking. "Haven't you been told not to fly during storms?" The dragon responded with a guttural growl, its claws digging through the mud as it tried to advance once more. Saya then turned her head skyward, taking a deep breath and revealing her final trump card.

"STRUN!"

Her voice rolled across the hillsides, echoing like thunder within the ears of all who could hear it. The dark-gray skies lit up as dozens, hundreds, thousands of miniscule sparks of energy had gathered into a single focal point right above the Dragonborn, and then immediately erupted into a blinding bolt of pure lightning that descended straight from the heavens, striking her. Both herself and the dragon had to close their eyes reflexively to protect their vision, and when the Dunmer finally opened hers she saw Stormblade positively surging with energy, the sword's very color shifting from dull black to a glistening white with entire chains of pure electricity dancing along its edges.

The dragon's eye widened in shock as it tried to move back, the basest of its instincts screaming for it to run for its life, yet the slippery mud did it no service as it could barely find any purchase in the disturbed soil. And so, it could only watch as Saya dove towards it, bringing down her weapon in a single thunderous strike.

As she made contact with the creature's scales, it was as if all hell broke loose. In a single instant, all of the energy within Stormblade was released, resulting in a thunderbolt of such intensity that it burst into an explosion that pillared into the sky, boiling the very raindrops from the air around them into steam and scorching the ground below. The dragon's body was smoking, all the nerves within it scorched to pitch-dark, while the skull itself was smouldering with plumes of black smoke.

The Dragonborn's weapon flew off from the recoil, its wielder falling to the ground and clutching her wrist while her fingers spasmed involuntarily, her entire arm twitching with pain. It took a solid minute for her to adjust, massaging her hand, fingers, and forearm until the remaining shocks subsided, following which she went to find her sword again. The glow had disappeared from the weapon completely, marking its return to a "dormant" state, and the dancing lightning was replaced by splatters of mud and blood.

With a sigh, the Dragonborn picked up Stormblade, wiping it with the outside of her cloak. Her lips stretched into a content smile when the sword's black blade glistened once more, playing with the rays of sunlight that had finally broken through the clouds.


Guess that my hunch about the old injury was right. I had a feeling that the rasp wasn't natural, but I can only guess what could've made a wound like that. Doesn't look like something a dragon could make… But at the same time, it made a point of being older than others, so it probably never died to begin with. Almost definitely not a dragon, then. Maybe the old Blades?

Again, I found out (much to my joy) that I could almost read the word wall. It was about Nords remembering the words of someone known as the "hoar father" (from what I could figure out), and said words were about honoring… Something. I'm not quite sure on that part yet.

What I do know is the word of power that was highlighted - Krii. It means "Kill" after all. Quite the pleasant one. I made sure to read it first before I went in for the dragon soul, just in case it was something interesting.

Thankfully, the dragon was much more cooperative than I thought. Or maybe I'm just getting better at this thing.


It had been a long few painstaking hours when Saya was done trying to butcher the dragon corpse, and she was quite annoyed at the results. Any attempts at skinning it were fruitless, as the burnt flesh in the front was, well, burnt to a crisp, while the more intact backside was covered in those obnoxiously thick stony scales. She tried to pry off a few of them, but ultimately gave up trying when her dagger came dangerously close to snapping. The bones did not impress her much either, and getting past the hide proved to be too big a challenge for just a few scraps that she still couldn't properly work with.

As such, the Dragonborn had eventually abandoned the attempts completely, ending up with only some claws she had managed to pry out of the legs, as well as some tail spikes. Not a big haul, but at least it wasn't nothing. And so, rubbing her hands like a child before a meal, she took a knee before the giant head that was as long as she was tall, and touched it.

Right on cue, the threads of the dragon's being began to unwind. The corpse began to glow as the flesh she had been picking at simply burned away, turning into light that wrapped around the skeleton and slowly, almost hesitantly, began making its way up Saya's arm. She gasped when she felt that almost addicting sensation once more, like a hunger she didn't know she had, slowly melting away and leaving her in blissful warmth. All kinds of thoughts began to flood her memory - words, ideas, feelings, sensations, all of them blending together into one continuous stream. Within her own mind, she reached out to grasp them, searching for knowledge to make her own.

Then, a stabbing pain in her heart. Vision going dark, blood gushing forth as her skin peeled away and every single part of her ached with agony. Her body was still, the bones within her flesh lying uselessly like stones in a wet sack, and as she drew a breath she felt her throat and lungs burn. Every nerve of hers was overloading, her brain spilling like a splatter of paint on canvas, and then… There was nothing. No pain, no pleasure, no nothing. Just an endlessly spanning dark, and she felt as though her body was lying somewhere cold and warm at the same time. Everything began to numb, from her fingertips, to her arms and legs, to her torso, to her face. And when her eyelids had finally shut, she exhaled, like a weight leaving her chest, and her lips moved without moving, uttering a word as silent as the Void.

Krii.

In a flash, she snapped back to reality. She began to cough, gasping for air like a person in the desert would gulp down water at the first opportunity. As though suddenly woken up from a deep, deep dream, her brain was scrambling to readjust to the world around itself once more. She touched her hands, her face, her chest, as if checking if she still had her skin on. Once the initial confusion passed, however, her hand curled into a fist.

No. More.

Give me more.

She put a hand on her chest and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Her consciousness refused to let go of the fleeting wisps of knowledge, reaching for them as though trying to preserve a flickering candlelight in the midst of a raging storm. Her own mind became like an ocean-wall, a viscous barrier she sank her hands into, aiming to fish out at least the slightest of glimmers into the other side.

Waves of exhaustion washed over her. The more she struggled - the more her muscles protested, the more her bones and sinew groaned, and the heavier did her breathing grow. The fingertips could barely break through the barrier, but when she could barely feel them anymore, she felt herself slowly sink into it. Her wrists, her elbows, her shoulders - slowly but surely, she could push through the wall between her and another drop, another speck of memory that still lingered behind, stolen from a creature that was an existence no more. With a heaving breath, she gave one last push, and suddenly the world turned sideways. No longer was it a wall that she was struggling against, but a floor that she was sinking into. Like a stone in water, she floated down and down and down, darkness swallowing her vision. Terrified, she turned around, trying to reach upwards but her limbs remaining unmoving. She tried to scream, but no air left her lungs. She tried to breathe, but she only choked on pitch-black ichor. Her body went still, sinking ever deeper, and her eyes began to close as a sudden urge to sleep had made itself known. Her vision darkened, growing more and more blurry, as the last embers of stamina that kept her struggling were snuffed out, and as the blackness gushed from her mouth instead of air, the voice within her mind spoke.

Gaan.

Suddenly, the darkness vanished without a trace, and Saya found herself back in front of the dragon corpse again. Her eyelids felt heavy, and it took her a moment to register what just happened, even though it was the second time in just a few moments. A small, triumphant laugh left her lips, and she raised a hand in celebration.

And promptly collapsed onto the cold ground.


If only my body was half as cooperative…

I passed out for a straight hour or two, just like that. That's just bloody embarrassing, no?

I guess I should count my blessings and be glad none of my things are missing… I'll try and waddle over to Riverwood overnight. Might even get sleep in an actual bed.

I think there's a ground print on my face. Damnit. So itchy.


Dragged myself into the village. Sun will be rising soon. Orgnar asked if I wanted to call Delphine but I just slammed down the gold for a room and waddled off.

Taking off armor hasn't felt this good in a long time. Dropping dead in three, two,


Morndas, the 29th of Hearthfire, 4E201


"Okay, so just to make sure I got all of this right-"

The Dunmer clasped her hands together, leaning forward in her chair. Lydia was standing by her side, while Esbern and Fortunata were both over by the table in the center of the room. The basement was no bigger or smaller than it usually had been, but there was still a feeling of lacking space due to all the clutter - writing supplies, half-finished notes, opened books and ciphers. In the time that Saya was absent, the two had certainly kept themselves busy.

"When the Akaviri were invading Skyrim, they constructed multiple camps. After the founding of the Dragonguard, these camps were turned into temples, which said Dragonguard used as headquarters." The redhead recited out loud, summarizing the very, very drawn-out lecture that the old Nord had given her some time earlier. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that Esbern, an archivist, would have interest in history, but she definitely underestimated his enthusiasm in sharing that knowledge with others.

"One such temple, Sky Haven Temple, ended up being home to a structure called Alduin's Wall, which tells the story of Alduin and how he was prophesied to be defeated. But… I take it, we have a problem?" Both Blades nodded in agreement - Esbern doing so much more energetically than his compatriot - confirming the Dragonborn's suspicion. She sighed. "What would that be?"

The blonde shook her head in frustration. "The problem is that for all the things we know about the temple and its history," she shot a quick glare at her colleague, though he didn't seem to notice, "the one thing the Dragonguard never wrote down is where it actually is."

Saya furrowed her brows and leaned back into her seat once more, holding her chin in thought. Esbern picked up where Fortunata left off. "Yes yes, the Dragonguard were no less cautious than they were informed. Almost everything they passed on has reached us in the form of cryptic writings, faded drawings, and confusing clues. They could not afford their enemies learning anything about them - losing that secrecy contributed greatly to their downfall."

The Dragonborn frowned. "And do we have any such clues? I would assume so, given uh…" She motioned at the pile of books and parchments littering the table. "All of that."

"There was one thing." Fortunata tapped the desk expectantly. Saya hopped off the chair, stepping over to look at whatever she was pointing towards. What she saw was a half-finished map made up of many separate pages, open books from which they were torn surrounding the incomplete image. "Esbern noticed that the maps all had the same handwriting on them and were older than a good chunk of the books they were actually in. Most of the settlements on them don't even exist anymore. We're still working on putting it together."

"And if any of the pieces are missing?" The Dragonborn asked. Fortunata gave her a look that made her instantly regret opening her mouth. "On second thought, I'll just keep my fingers crossed that all's there."

The Breton shook her head, turning to Esbern only to see him already absorbed in another book, reading through it with ravenous curiosity. She snorted, grabbing one for herself and flipping through the pages, looking for another fragment to possibly add to the map.

"You two want help?" The Dunmer glanced at either one, eyebrow raised at the awkward silence. Esbern didn't bat an eye.

The female Blade looked at her briefly. "Do you think you could last multiple hours of sitting over books in a room with the two of us?"

Saya raised a finger to protest, but then slowly lowered it back down. "That's fair enough. Letter by bird when you figure this out, then?" A nod. "Alright then. Lydia, let's go."

The housecarl didn't vocalize her agreement, instead silently following her Thane upstairs. Fortunata watched them go and then exhaled with a deep sense of relief.

Finally, some room to breathe.


You know… I think that something that I need right now is a vacation from all this dragon business. The Greybeards are helpful, but I think I overdid my quota by learning two Shouts for the price of one. I think that Falkreath would be a good choice. It'd be good to visit there before the winter starts kicking in.

And yes, I'm aware that winter is still two months away. In Skyrim though, there isn't really such a thing as "in-between seasons". It's more like winter and its two little siblings, and then there's two or three months of not-winter. And even then, not everyone is so lucky. I don't think that Winterhold or the Pale see any kind of greenery at any time of year.

Ugh. Now that's a gloomy thought. Time to go fishing instead.


It was a warm and pleasant evening. The sunset had painted the sky into a wonderful gradient, transitioning from fiery orange to a soft pink and, eventually, into a deep, dark mix of black and blue. The water glistened with stray rays of light, catching them and playfully shining with every stray wave that moved across the lake. The trees rustled faintly as their branches swayed with the wind, brushing against each other. In the middle of this idyllic place was a small camp, made up of just two tents and a single campfire. Various cookware surrounded the crackling flame, sitting by a neat pile of chopped logs ready for the burning.

Saya and Lydia were a little ways away from their resting spot, sitting atop a fallen tree that they rolled closer to the coast. Each one had a fishing rod in hand, purchased from the Riverwood Trader before leaving. Nothing special, these things, but they were worth the gold and did the trick. They had been fishing for the last hour or two, but frankly one could hardly call it "fishing". A much more accurate description would be "chatting about everything ever while occasionally pulling out a small fry by sheer dumb luck". But hey, as long as it worked…

"No, but seriously, a kitten?" The Dragonborn giggled hysterically. "You're fucking with me. You're so fucking with me!"

"I'm serious!" Lydia chuckled, scratching her chin. She was just in the middle of telling a story to her Thane, but it was difficult not to laugh at it, herself. "He wanted to do something nice for me so he tried to bring me a stray kitten and we'd adopt it, but animals just hate him. It started meowing like crazy and almost clawed his eyes out, so he dropped it and it scratched his chin to blood." The girl wiped away a stray tear.

Saya, meanwhile, was just on the cusp of falling over from laughter, having long given up on trying to stay quiet for the fish's sake. "Oh gods, is that why he started growing out a beard, too?"

Lydia nodded, grinning ear to ear. "You know it! He tells everyone it was from a run-in with a bear or a bandit, but I know the real story." The Nord winked, turning back to look at the water. "And I have got plenty more where that came from."

The redhead had, with some effort, caught her breath, calming down from her giggling fits and wiping her face. "Ahh… You, Lydia, are a very bad girl, telling your thane stories to embarrass your dad with!" She jabbed the housecarl playfully and finally settled down, putting both hands on her fishing rod again. "Take it from me though, in a few years you'll look back at all that good stuff like the golden age of your life."

Lydia snorted. A few small shadows under the water zoomed away at the noise. "I might, but that won't stop me from laughing at it now."

"Now that's the spirit!" Saya proclaimed, snickering. She looked at the water, watching it ripple around the point where the line vanished under the surface. "Hrongar is still scary as a nix-ox, though."

"You two got off on the wrong foot, that's all." She chimed, waving her off. "I know what it looks like, but he is a good person under all that gritty Nordic warrior bravado he likes to do."

"Counterpoint." The Dunmer raised a finger. "You didn't break his brother's arm. And you're also his daughter."

Lydia frowned, not really having a good argument for that. Her brows furrowed, and then she huffed and crossed her arms. "Well he will have to learn to deal with you whether he likes it or not."

The Dragonborn smiled at the childish pout her housecarl had on her face. Despite Saya definitely being the daredevil of the two, the rational and cautious Lydia still had her immature moments, and her Thane made a point of remembering each and every single one of them. Her inner musings got interrupted, though, as she noticed something pulling on the fishing line. Like woken up from a haze, she tapped the other girl's shoulder. "Hey, hey, hands on the rod, hands on the rod!"

It took Lydia a moment to catch up with what her Thane was saying before she realized what was happening and hastily picked up the fishing pole. Quickly, she moved it to the side to sink the hook into her catch, and then began to pull closer to actually drag the fish out of the lake. She grunted, struggling a bit as her rod was bending from the weight. This continued for a brief couple of seconds before there was a sudden sharp noise and the line snapped, sending the Nord flipping over the tree and tumbling down with a loud thud.

An awkward silence fell upon the camp. Lydia groaned, getting back onto her feet and rubbing the back of her head. Her ears were ringing and she was running fingers through her hair, brushing out the dirt. She briefly glanced over at her Thane, who was beginning to get red in the face in an attempt to hold back laughter. A childish pout found its way onto the housecarl's face and she angrily stepped over the log before sitting down, trying her best not to look at Saya's expression. Then, as an involuntary snort escaped the Dragonborn's lips, Lydia huffed and crossed her arms, turning away to hide her blush. The redhead just snickered and went back to watching her own fishing rod again.

The awkward silence from before had shifted to a comfortable, soothing quiet. The Dragonborn watched the water, her eyes fixed on the bobber that continued to create small ripples. Lydia gradually grew more relaxed, sighing and eventually turning to watch the lake as well. The tension left her shoulders, her hands returned to her lap. For a while, they simply sat there, enjoying the ambience.

"I've been to Falkreath once before." Lydia said, unprompted. Saya tilted her head, looking over at the housecarl curiously. "It was before uncle became Jarl, so I was still very young. They were going to meet with the Jarl to discuss… Something or another. I didn't pay attention."

The Dragonborn snorted. "What was it like?"

"Honestly? I don't remember the city as much as I do the forest." She scratched her head, smiling sheepishly. "I got bored of listening to them, so I snuck out. I remember wandering outside of the city and guards didn't even bat an eye."

"Drunk and careless as always?"

"Drunk and careless as always." Lydia nodded, chuckling. The Nord was slightly infamous for her discipline back in the day, having no problems with staying at her post - or scolding the guards that wouldn't do the same. Probably why she didn't get too sad at the long absences from the city. "I don't even know how long I was there. It was already dark outside by the time I got back."

"Did you get lost?"

"At first, yeah. When I realized, I just… Fell onto the ground and started crying. I must've been bawling for hours, haha." Lydia said, twiddling her thumbs. Then, she sighed. "But then I felt something pull my sleeve. I got scared at first, so I tried to hit whatever grabbed me, but I don't think it even felt anything."

"What was it?" The Dragonborn asked, a little concern showing in her voice.

"It was… A dog. A really big one. It didn't have any kind of collar on it but it wasn't a stray, it looked too clean for that. It probably heard me crying and wandered off." She said, rubbing her chin. "I used to be scared of dogs when I was younger, actually. But that one just felt… Different. It didn't try to bite me and it didn't bark. Just pulled me by the sleeve until I got up, and then led me back to Falkreath. The guards were all panicky this time, asking if I was hurt or anything. Dad and uncle Balgruuf got really mad at me for wandering off, too."

Saya hummed. "What about the dog?"

"I don't know." Lydia shrugged. "It nudged me towards the city when we were back on the road and when I turned around, it was nowhere to be seen. Dad still thinks I'm making the whole thing up."

"...Huh."

Saya didn't have much else to say, returning to her dutiful watch. The sun had been really setting down at this point, and so Lydia stepped over the log to tend to the campfire, which was quickly becoming their primary source of light. The flames welcomed the new fuel, crackling as the timber was consumed. The redhead listened to it with a weird sort of giddiness. She always liked fire, even as a child. It brought her a sort of comfort, while also being a very simple and versatile tool.

"Hey, Thane?" Lydia suddenly asked. The Dragonborn hummed a weird noise in acknowledgment without turning around. "I don't think I've ever seen you do any alchemy, but you do a lot of cooking. Farengar used to compare the two a lot. Is there any reason why?"

"Oh, I was actually taught some alchemy back in the day by mom. Or, well, at the very least she tried to teach me. It was… How do I put this?" The Dunmer mused for a few seconds before snapping her fingers as she figured out the right words. "Excruciatingly precise."

The housecarl was confused. "I'm… Not sure I know what you mean."

Saya took a breath and then sighed - very slowly and very emotionally. Lydia inwardly braced herself for impact as the Thane put down the fishing rod and clasped her hands together. "Let's just say it is a very, very, very memorable experience when you, a child of some seventeen years, accidentally miscalculate the temperature by just a couple degrees and add just a few grams too much of a specific reactant, resulting in a disbalance in the reaction that leads to the whole thing quite literally and quite violently exploding and covering the entire room in soot, ash, and unidentifiable goop at boiling temperature which you then had to clean up for multiple days because it seeped into the paint and floorboards."

Lydia blinked, flabbergasted by the very expressive gesticulation of her companion who seemed to say all of that on a single breath. "Um. I see."

Saya looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. Then, she relaxed and picked up the fishing rod again, holding it with both hands. "Alchemy is about precision, and the slightest mistake can turn everything into a bloody mess. Sometimes literally, too. Cooking is a bit more forgiving. You can be creative with cooking, so long as you maintain the proportions. You'd have to fuck up something fierce to end up with completely inedible product." She shrugged. "And besides, I don't think I've ever drank a potion that was both helpful and tasty."

The housecarl laughed softly. True to that, Saya actually complained about potion taste just about every time she had to drink one. There was a time when Lydia actually had to hit the girl's back because she tried to chug a healing potion in one to so she wouldn't taste it but ended up almost choking instead. Did she learn her lesson?

Debatable.

Suddenly, Saya was shaken out of her blurry train of thought. Her ears twitched slightly as the quiet sound of the bobber sinking reached them and she quickly set the hook. She remained firm but relaxed, seeing the line strain from the weight as the fish tired itself out, before she finally began to pull back. Just a few seconds later, a good, large trout was in her lap, still thrashing weakly with the remnant of its strength.

Lydia was called over and held down the fish while Saya retrieved a knife from her pack and stabbed it in its head, finishing the thing off quickly and painlessly. The Dragonborn finally calmed down then, looking over at her housecarl.

"So… Five to three?"

The Nord groaned. This would be a long evening.


Tirdas, the 30th of Hearthfire, 4E201


Not going to lie, a cheese-baked trout sounded quite outlandish when Lydia first talked about it. But it turned out quite nicely, if I say so myself. Worth picking out all the damn bones out of it.

Seriously, river fish? More like water hedgehogs, if their skeletons are any indication.

Falkreath was as small and pleasant as expected. I can't say I was too impressed, it looked less like a hold capital and more like a bigger than average village. Then again, as the borderland, it must've taken its fair share of hits even back in the day.

I almost wish I could've seen it back in Hjalti's times. It used to be an entire kingdom of its own, strong enough to conquer all of Skyrim and Cyrodiil. Kind of funny, to be honest - that the current Empire was made out of this, of all things. Don't judge a thing by its origins, I suppose.


The one thing I really noticed after a few hours of hanging around was the humor, of all things. The main attraction of Falkreath, second to the forests, was its enormous graveyard - and the locals definitely embraced it. Every damn thing is named after some kind of grim joke or another. Not to say it's not funny. Just a bit off-putting.

I decided to grab a bounty to have something to do and help out the locals a bit. Besides, a little extra gold never hurt. So as we hit noon-ish we set out for Bloodlet Keep.


That… Was almost a little disappointing, not going to lie. It must've been some splinter group, or a very distant outpost. They were very isolated and seemed to be making their own microsociety, though that obviously was harder without a stable source of food. Probably why they got spotted to begin with - some hungry ones decided to nab at the Falkreath citizens.

Their leader, though… He also had the weird wheel insignia I've seen before. Maybe they're part of some kind of clan?

We settled down for the night when we found a camp close by in the mountains. It belonged to a woman named Angi and she agreed to let us stay the night, so that's nice of her. She seems to be some kind of hunter. I'll have to ask her what she's doing so far out here. She doesn't even know how lucky she is if she hasn't been snatched by a dragon yet.


Middas, the 1st of Frostfall, 4E201


"So where are you two from?" Angi asked. She was a Nord with blonde hair and relatively youthful features, though definitely somewhat aged by weather and lifestyle. The woman wore a simple warm outfit, well-suited for the cold climate: a yellow shirt, a pair of brown pants, and a matching set of fur-lined jacket and boots. "Ah, that will be enough, thank you."

Lydia wiped her forehead, setting aside the axe she had been using to chop up firewood. As thanks for being allowed to stay at the campsite, the pair had decided to help their hostess out with some work that could prove challenging or tiring for a single person. "I'm from Whiterun, born and raised." The housecarl said, picking up all the chopped logs and moving them to a different spot for storing.

"Whiterun, eh?" Angi raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Don't see folks from all the way over there traveling around these parts often."

"We're adventurers." Saya interjected. She had been busy scrambling together whatever herbs she could find out in the woods as well as in her pack in order to throw together a stew, which Angi was more than willing to donate some of her game for. "It comes with the job."

"Aye, that's true." The hunter nodded in understanding. "And what about you?"

"Blacklight." The Dragonborn replied simply. Then, as the silence hanged in the air, she elaborated. "Capital of Morrowind. Came here to see some things, find some work, start a life. You know, the usual."

"Ahh, a far traveler you are then. And how is that working out?"

She shrugged. "No shortage of monsters and bandits to kill, so I'm not running out of work anytime soon." Which was indeed true, and the bounties - even if not taken often - paid quite well for the trouble, and that's not counting all the loot found in the process. "And yourself? I assume you weren't born of the mountains or something, as impressive as it would be."

"Hah, if only." Angi chuckled. "I was born in Helgen, though I've been living out here for a couple of years now."

In a single moment, it was like Saya got dunked into ice water. She stopped her movements for a second, but shook her head and decided not to comment on it. Lydia, however, had no such reservations. "Really? Why did you leave?"

The woman scowled. "I lost my family a long time ago. Lived alone. Helgen's a small town, not a soul there that doesn't know all their neighbors. At times that's a blessing. For me it was a curse." She sighed. "Everybody pitied me, no matter where I'd go. I was tired of it, so one day I packed all of my things, left, and never looked back."

Lydia's expression became grim and saddened. "That's… Horrible. I'm so-"

"Who were they?" Saya jumped into the conversation before Lydia could finish her sentence. The housecarl felt a little insulted before she looked back at Angi and noticed the disgust in her expression. The girl then pursed her lips, mentally cursing for offering pity to a person who just said they wanted none. "The killers, I mean."

Angi waved her off. "A pair of drunken Imperial soldiers who thought they were above the law. But don't worry." She tapped her bow, which was propped up next to her seat. "I already took care of them. Part of the reason I'm living out here now. I don't regret it, but… I don't think I'd be too welcome if I came back." There was an awkward silence in the air as Lydia and Saya exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Angi kept her grimace for a while longer until the atmosphere got to her and she looked at either of them in confusion. "What?"

The housecarl averted her eyes. Saya stared up at Angi before sighing and speaking, her eyes affixed to the pot.. "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. I…" She cleared her throat. "There isn't anyone left to judge you for something like that anymore."

The Nord's eyes sparked with a hint of worry. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Did you not talk to anyone recently? Hear any recent news?" Her black-haired kinswoman prodded gently. She walked over to sit beside Angi, putting a hand on her shoulder. The woman, in turn, moved her shoulder away, almost repulsed.

"No. No, I don't, why would I?" She snapped back, alarmed and defensive. "But what are you talking about? What happened?"

The Dragonborn took out the spoon she was stirring the pot with and carefully wiped it clean before placing it nearby. She sighed, then, turning to her hostess. "About a month and a half ago, Helgen was burned to the ground. Barely anyone made it out alive."

Angi's eyes went wide in shock and she was frozen in place as the realization slowly sank in. Slowly, she lowered her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly. Lydia once again put a hand on her shoulder, and this time she didn't protest. Or, possibly, she just didn't have the energy to.

Saya watched it with a weird sort of guilt in her eyes. She was there, too. Sometimes she wondered if she deserved to be the one who managed to escape. But she pushed those thoughts aside, continuing with a voice as calm as she could muster. "It was a dragon. It appeared in the middle of the night and took everyone by surprise. Before anyone could do anything, it opened its mouth and…" She gestured in a way that mimicked an explosion. "Next thing anyone knew, the entire place was ablaze."

Angi lifted her eyes, and her expression was screaming disbelief. "Dragons? Like in the children's stories? The legendary dragons?"

The Dunmer resisted the urge to scoff. "You know the ones. Giant, scaly, flying monsters the size of a house each."

"So… It was true. What I saw." Angi muttered. "I've been hearing these terrifying roars for days. And sometimes I could've sworn there was something enormous in the sky, but before I could take a look at it, it would fly away." She leaned back, staring off into the clouds. There were some tear tracks streaming down across her cheeks. She paid them no mind. "But if that's really a dragon… Then is everything truly over? The world is ending and we can't do anything?"

"Well, we can hunt them for starters." Saya replied, nonchalantly. The Nord woman was left staring at the Dragonborn like she was a complete lunatic. The redhead was used to this, mostly from Lydia. She rolled her eyes. "They're monsters, sure. Legendary and scary as shit and that whole package. But they're still real, and that means they hurt, bleed, and die - just like the rest of us. We've seen and made it happen before."

"I…" Angi was left at a loss for words. She looked over at Lydia, still aghast, only to receive a confirming nod that supported all of Saya's words. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

A small smile crossed Saya's features, and she offered Angi a hand to help her stand up. "That bow of yours can do a number on hides. I also saw some targets on the way here. Do you think you can teach me?"

Angi looked at Saya's hand, then back at her face. She half laughed, wiping the tear off her face and grasping her hand, standing back up on her feet. "I'd be glad to. But don't you think I'll let you slack."

The Dragonborn grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way."


Turdas, the 2nd of Frostfall, 4E201


She did not let me slack :(

Okay but honestly speaking, Angi was a better teacher than I expected and a much better one than I could hope for. By the evening I could already reliably get the entire set of targets without a single miss. Then she woke me up this morning, handed me a bow, and told me to do it all again without any preparation.

Not. A single. Miss.

We're at Falkreath right now, and I am going through every gods-damned merchant in here. I have a feeling Angi doesn't have much use in gold, so I'm looking for some kind of practical gift.

And if she doesn't want it… I guess I could keep it for myself or something.

I don't think she'd refuse it though. She doesn't seem like the type.


Alright, I sent the bird off with a letter and a small package. It's not too heavy but I honestly don't think it would have a problem with the delivery either way.

Maybe I should summon it later and give it something tasty.

We took a carriage back to Whiterun afterwards. Comfortable little ride, nothing too special. We were already there in the evening and were just getting our things in order.

Then comes a knock on the door, and apparently Balgruuf is inviting us over for dinner. He held a meeting with all the Thanes and influential people in the city on the 1st, but since I missed that he wanted to have a talk with me now.

Fuck, I do have responsibilities as a Thane, don't I?


The grand hall of Dragonsreach was as breathtaking as always. The lighting made the place seem detached from the outside world, always bright and wondrous regardless of the time of day. The servants worked well, seeing as how not a single speck of dust tarnished the interior. This cleanliness produced a strong impression, though it was not an entirely positive one. There was a sort of uneasiness, an imposing pressure that one often experiences when they are in a place of higher luxury than they're normally used to.

A number of voices bounced within the walls, along with the sounds of cutlery occasionally bumping into plates. Everyone was sitting comfortably at the long table that stretched across the main section of the hall. Hrongar sat closest to the Jarl, while one seat over was Saya. Thus, Lydia was somewhat sandwiched between her father and her liege, vaguely uncomfortable because of their mutual tension.

Balgruuf was on his throne, as usual, while Irileth stood beside him. His arm seemed to have healed already, but the place of the break was still covered by a decorated bracer. His housecarl seemed ambivalent to the Dragonborn's presence, but nonetheless watched her closely as a sort of foreign presence within the court.

"And as you might know, the Witches Festival is soon approaching. It's an old tradition, even if some less open-minded people may reject it as an Imperial holiday." The Jarl spoke, taking a sip out of the goblet he held with his healthy arm. It wasn't a very fancy one, seeing as how he wasn't looking to impress anyone in the room, but the design was tasteful nonetheless. "The children enjoy it very much. If you're free around that time, I would invite you to treat yourself to the event and help supervise it."

"I'd be honored to, though I'm not quite sure about my plans that far ahead. I am heading to High Hrothgar tomorrow again for my training, but after that I will see if I am given any other tasks." The redhead carefully sliced off a piece of the steak before her and put it into her mouth. She had to admit that, as proud of her cooking as she was, she couldn't really rival someone who dedicated their entire life to it. "And honestly, I'm not entirely sure if I want to show my face too much in public."

"Don't want to?" Hrongar raised an eyebrow at that. "You'd do well to justify that title you've been given. The city should at least know their Dragonborn protector, even if she's nowhere to be found all the time." He raised a tankard to take a sip but suddenly recoiled, grunting. He looked down to see Lydia shoving her elbow into his side while giving him a look and he rolled his eyes.

Balgruuf sighed. It was hard to disagree with Hrongar that Saya had, indeed, been rather absent from the city, even though she technically had no real job within his court and thus - no duties that she'd be shirking. Nevertheless, rumors of a Dragonborn savior had been circulating the hold, and the Jarl had even once heard similar tales coming from Eastmarch. Evidently, she was not simply kicking around dirt on her journeys. The elder man cleared his throat. "Now that I think about it, you've been listening to me talk for quite a while now. Perhaps you have any stories of your own to share with us?"

"Oh we travelled so much!" Lydia piped up instantly, her eyes lighting up. She clasped her hands together and Saya snickered a bit, watching her go off. "We've explored lots of ruins and caves, helped dozens of people, got rid of ghosts and bandits, found some ancient artifacts, cleansed multiple places of vampires, saw the Headless Horseman, and we've even hunted down two dragons!"

"Three." Saya took a sip from her goblet. Her housecarl slowly turned back at her Thane and blinked. The Dragonborn only giggled at the display.

"When?" Lydia asked, a strained smile tugging at her features while her fingers curled into white-knuckled fists under the table.

"Like… Four days ago?" She stared at the ceiling for a second before nodding. "Yeah, four days ago. I sent you a letter saying things got complicated, remember?"

"Complicated?!" The housecarl dropped the unconvincing face of politeness and slammed her hands on the table, standing up. "I thought you ran away from it! Maybe found where it lived! But not that you went to kill it on your own!"

"And your reaction right now is precisely why I didn't tell you." She replied coolly. "It went fine. I didn't even get injured beyond a few bruises, and I found it a lot of useful stuff?"

The Nord continued glaring at her Thane for a long few seconds before she huffed and sat down. She crossed her arms angrily, but eventually realized that such a position won't let her eat any of her food, and so she was soon back to normal. If a bit more grumpy than usual.

The two men in the room finally got out of their stupor and closed their jaws, with Balgruuf clearing his throat before he spoke. "That is… Quite unbelievable. I am most pleased to hear that you've been doing this well. But that only confuses me more." He stroked his beard, leaning forward in his throne. "Why would you not want to share that glory and tell people what you've accomplished?"

"That's the 'useful stuff' I mentioned prior. Just a minute." She turned around and took her pack off the back of her seat. Reaching inside, she dug through some clutter - the majority of which, thankfully, was offloaded back at the Breezehome - and finally grasped the object of her interest, putting it down on the table. "This here. We found this at Labyrinthian."

Hrongar looked at her skeptically. "It's… A mask. A wooden mask."

"Yep. A wooden mask from an ancient Nordic ruin." She nodded, planting two more down on the desk. She took the one that she wore as a disguise, lifting it. The design similarities were undeniable, even if they were not identical. "This here was worn by a group that I found inhabiting a similar ruin. This group was gathering supplies and equipment in a secluded area, and they did that by command from a high priest sort of figure." Lastly, she pulled out the mask of the priest, the glimmer of the enchantment still flickering across the surface. "And this fellow here - he received orders directly from the dragon I killed."

Hrongar quieted down, while Lydia's expression grew more grim. "They… They look kind of like the masks you brought from Ustengrav."

Saya nodded. "I think so too. And if they're at all related, then I don't think they would be all too happy if they saw people singing me praise, especially if I'm there." She turned to Balgruuf, who looked troubled to say the least. "So that's what I was sorting out recently. Or trying to, at least. These folks already went after me directly, and if they're willing to do that to someone like me, then a defenseless citizen…" She drew a finger across her neck. Irileth grimaced, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

Lydia propped her head up with her elbow on the table, prodding at her food aimlessly. She shook her head. "So are you just supposed to hide all the time?"

"Wha? Of course not." The redhead put down her drink and popped another piece of meat into her mouth, chewing on it. "But I do need to be careful where I show my face. Especially not in public places." She put a finger on one of the masks on the table and circled it. "...Maybe I should start wearing a mask too."

The housecarl snorted. "Or stop wearing that cloak everywhere. It's like a staple of yours at this point."

"I'm cold, okay?!"

"Well then wear warmer clothes!"

"Then I'm gonna be a sweat sponge after every fight!" The Dunmer threw her arms up in frustration. "And then I'll be even colder!"

"Well then, maybe don't charge into every single fight like a rabid skeever!" She stabbed her fork into the steak and crossed her arms. "It would give you a few months before you get recklessly hurt and die."

"I haven't died yet!" Saya declared, smugly raising a finger.

"And I marvel at that fact every day we spend together." Lydia finished, picking up the meat and taking an angry bite out of it. It was actually too much to eat all at once but she did not want to back down, and definitely not right now.

"Honestly? Same."

An awkward silence befell upon the chamber as both of them resumed their meals. Then, a quiet laugh broke through, slowly growing louder and louder as Balgruuf leaned back in his throne. Irileth fought the smile that was tugging at her lips, ending up with a crooked smirk in the corner of her mouth. Hrongar, meanwhile, quietly hid his face behind both hands, sighing deeply. Saya and Lydia exchanged a glance, confused at what prompted such a reaction.

"It seems you've become fast friends in your time together!" Balgruuf said, fighting another wave as he spoke. Lydia sank into her seat a bit, flustered.

Hrongar shook his head. "You used to be such a polite and calm girl…"

The two women in the room once again looked at each other and put their hands at their mouths, suppressing their giggles half-heartedly. But it wasn't long before they gave up, and it was only when the echoes of the gleeful laughter finally subsided and Saya lifted her hand to wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye did she speak.

"Well, what can I say?" She shrugged. "I'm a good bad influence."