"Miss Muriel, I- I'm sorry, it won't happen again!" I cried out, holding up my small hands in defense as she removed the leather belt from her waist.

"You're damn right it won't!" the headmistress growled. "Disgraceful, that's what you are!" She twirled her finger in a circle. "Pull your dress up."

I swallowed the scream. "Miss Muriel, please-"

"I said, pull. Your. Dress. Up." Her hand tightened on the belt, and the tears gathering in my eyes stung. "Do it!" Her voice a shriek, she shoved me to the floor and forcefully pulled my threadbare dress up, showing my bare back. "You girls just won't learn!" The belt came down. "One." Again. "Two." Again. "Three." My sobs echoed around the room as she brought the whip down onto my back once more. "Four."

It was always the same; Miss Muriel found something wrong with my behavior and instantly turned to violence. Even so, she was careful not to leave any lasting marks. She couldn't sell us if we were scarred.

The belt came down again, but when it lifted back up, I was no longer in the broken-down orphanage in Cyrodil. Instead, heat burned my naked skin, the lava licking at my toes while the raspy laugh of the dremora echoed around the dark obsidian stone walls.

"The churl, it cries!" it chortled to its companions, bringing the whip down again. I squealed in agony, my tears creating small trails on my dirty, blood-stained cheeks. "Go on, mortal. Do it again!"

I grasped the sharp bars, keeping my eyes down. "What's the point?" I sobbed, head down low as they continued to whip me. "You- augh! You won't stop!"

The dremora stomped forward and clutched my chin roughly, red eyes burning with sick pleasure. "Of course, I won't," it cackled, "but maybe I'll give you a break." It threw me to the ground and pointed the whip at me. "Say it."

"P-please stop," I begged, squeezing my eyes shut. "Please!" With a loud derisive cackle, the dremora brought the whip down again. I released a piercing wail and collapsed to the ground. "I-I thought you said you'd g-give me a break!" I cried, gripping my back.

The dremora's lips widened in a dark grin. "Isn't it obvious, churl?" It leaned in, bringing with it the stench of burnt meat. "I lied." It lifted the whip again, and I prepared myself for the next bout of unavoidable agony.

...

I jolted up with a gasp, grasping the small of my back. Despite how real the nightmare had felt, there was no sting, no cutting pain. With a low groan, I slumped down onto my side, fingers reaching out to scratch Karnwyr's rough red fur. He whined in his sleep and kicked his leg, and I tried to slow my heart rate as I considered what a big canine like him might be dreaming about. "You chasing squirrels, buddy?" I whispered. While the traumatic nightmares were nothing new, I didn't think I'd ever grow used to them. Some were worse than others.

Looking to my left, I saw Bishop was still sleeping soundly, handsome face for once smooth and clear of worry. I didn't get to see him sleeping too often as he was almost always up first. I found myself staring at him, the rise and fall of his chest slow with his slumber. He had the body of a warrior, scarred and hardened by a life in a harsh dog-eat-dog world. A fraction of his physical scars were plain to see on the bare patches of his skin, but I allowed myself to wonder at the emotional scars he hid. I'd only ever caught glimpses of the trauma that haunted him in the mutters beneath his breath in his sleep, but his defenses quickly swallowed it up as usual.

Figuring I wouldn't get any more sleep, I quietly climbed to my feet, careful not to wake the sleeping ranger beside me. I tied my silver shortswords to my belt. I rechecked my wounds, marveling at the speed at which they'd healed. I suppose I'll have to ask Bishop once he wakes up.

I took a few steps down the mossy area through the vibrant plants. A few people looked at me as I took the path, but no one bothered me. Even the few spriggans I passed were much more mellow than those I'd met at the entrance. If anything, they seemed almost friendly. Shrines to Kynareth were scattered throughout, several pilgrims either sleeping or praying.

"Hey there." My hands instantly went to my swords at the voice at my back, but my mind calmed down once I placed it.

"Farkas! I'm surprised to see you here." The big hulking man scratched the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed.

"Yep, it's me. I'm here because of the priestess in our town. And to see if I can find my friend, but I guess she doesn't want to be found." I'd almost describe his pout as cute, if it had belonged to anyone not covered in blood and scars. I sighed and smiled, removing my hands from my swords.

"So what's the priestess asked you to do here?" I asked curiously, leaning on my right leg as I spoke to the big Nord.

"Wha- oh, right! Yeah, Danica Pure-Spring. She asked us to get a special dagger from a couple hagravens and get some sap from the Eldergleam tree." He pointed to the giant glowing tree in the middle of the verdant cavern. "She said it was the parent tree or something like that." Farkas pulled an old-looking knife from his belt. "I guess this is the only thing that can get sap from an old tree."

"Now, hold it right there!" a new voice hollered, and I again took a defensive stance. A thin, angry middle-aged Breton was storming up the green path. "I object to this senseless violence against one of Kynareth's most blessed creations!"

I pursed my lips. "And who are you?" I questioned the man. He looked oddly familiar, and something about him set me off.

He stuck his nose in the air. "My name is Maurice Jondrelle," he introduced, "and I'm one of the most devout followers of Kynareth there is!" He poked Farkas in the chest. "And certainly more than that so-called priestess of yours in Whiterun!"

Farkas shoved him back, puffing his chest out. "You got something to say, little man?" the huge Nord growled, reaching for the greataxe on his back.

Maurice skittered back, holding his hands up in terror. "No, no!" he stuttered. "Sorry, I- I'm just worried about the Eldergleam. It doesn't deserve to be attacked like Danica Pure-Spring insists. Even though the Gildergreen in Whiterun is a wonderful relic of Kynareth, it shouldn't be healed with violence."

The Companion lifted a single black brow. "That's not my business now, is it? I've been given a task to better Whiterun, and that's what I'm going to do." He scowled at Maurice. "And I'm not gonna let a thin stick of a man like you stop me." With that, Farkas turned around and headed up the path. He struck the various roots blocking his way with his massive axe, and a loud groaning echoed around the cavern with its blows.

Wiry fingers grabbed my wrist, and I instinctively gripped them and bent backward to hear a satisfying crack. The man screeched in pain and clutched at his broken hand, glaring at me with both sorrow and annoyance. I frowned, refusing to feel remorse for hurting the man. "Don't touch me," I snapped.

Maurice shrugged and pressed his hand to the ground, and I watched as glowing magic traveled from the ground up into his fingers. The unpleasant sound of his joints popping back into place nearly made me wince, but when he lifted his arm back up, his hand was good as new. "Sorry about that," he muttered, "but at least the Eldergleam's Restoration abilities extend throughout the entire cavern." I refrained from touching where my wounds from last night had been, figuring that explained my body's quick healing. "But you've got to stop your friend!"

"Why should I do a damn thing?" I growled. "This isn't my business."

The Breton frowned deeply, again shooting dislike through me. I hated something about him. "This is Kynareth's business, and we are all Kynareth's children, making this your business." I peered at him for a few seconds, clearly putting him off. "What is it?" He widened his eyes, and all at once, it hit me.

"You- you had a son, didn't you?"

Maurice stepped back, even warier than beforehand. "What does that have to do with anything?"

I advanced, matching each step he took. "What was his name?"

"Why do you-"

"What was his fucking name?!" I shouted, and Maurice fell backward to the ground while a cloud of dust covered him. He coughed heavily, wiping at his stinging red eyes.

"N-Nade!" he shrieked. "But I didn't know him very well, all right? He was raised by his mother!" My chest began to shudder. I'd unintentionally stumbled across another piece of the puzzle, possibly one that could lead me to the man that had forced me into unimaginable suffering.

"Who was his mother? Where did they live?" I snapped. "Tell me!"

"Why does this matter so much to you?" Maurice wondered, voice still trembling.

I lifted up my lips in a snarl. "How about this? Tell me what I want to know, and I'll see what I can do to stop my friend from desecrating your precious Eldergleam." I pointed at Farkas, who still hadn't managed to make it through the Eldergleam's thick root.

Maurice swallowed, a hint of rebellion in his hideously familiar brown eyes. "Stop him first," he demanded, "and I'll tell you everything." I glared at him for another moment.

"Fine, but if you run, I will hunt you down and skin it out of you!" I turned on my heel and stomped after the Companion. "Farkas!"

The big Nord turned around and started hacking at the root. "Alessia! Hey!" He waved his hand. "Care to give me a hand? These damn roots are too big to climb, and for some reason, there's some kind of magic shield around them." I poked at the root.

"I don't think mortal weapons will affect these." I straightened up and glanced back at the terrified Breton. "But-" A hacking sound along with a low groan throughout the whole cavern followed, and I quickly turned back to Farkas. He was slicing away at the roots with the magic dagger, making the roots shrink up and away. "Hold on-"

A pair of spriggans burst up from the dirt, as well as the peaceful spriggans from earlier instantly turning aggressive. "Shit," I cursed, drawing my swords as the beasts rushed us. "Dammit, Farkas!"

Farkas already had his axe drawn and was hacking at the creatures. "What? It's not like I knew this was going to happen!" he snapped, cutting off one of the spriggan's arms. It screeched and lunged at the Nord with a violent slash, scoring marks down his cheeks. I thrust one of my blades through its wooden chest, extinguishing the green light within.

A spriggan I hadn't seen earlier managed to jump me from behind, its sharp claws digging into my barely defensible armor. Who the fuck does Ulfric think he is, I thought, making his soldiers wear this parchment-thin armor while sending them into the thick of battle?! I didn't get the chance to fight off the monster, the spriggan being ripped off me by a thankfully familiar beastie. "Karnwyr!" I breathed in relief, plunging a silver sword into the spriggan as the red wolf held him down. "Thanks, buddy!" With Karnwyr's help, we three made short work of the infestation.

"Wait!" Maurice ran up to us, looking at the dead spriggans with despair. "You said you'd convince him to stop, not tell him how to keep going!" Before he got the chance to get anywhere near me, Karnwyr leaped in front of me with his teeth bared warningly. "Tell him to stand down!"

"You can't be afraid of one of Kynareth's creatures," I taunted, crossing my arms irritably. "But no, I don't think I will. As for Farkas and your stupid tree, I didn't tell him to do shit. He figured that out on his own, for one. For two, I didn't get the chance to ask him anything at all."

"You didn't have to kill them!"

"I'd rather kill a few tree bitches than let myself be torn apart." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You'd better have an alternative to cutting the tree, Breton."

Maurice nodded rapidly. "I-I think I can pray to Kynareth at the Eldergleam. I think I can ask her for a sapling!" I pursed my lips and glanced at a very unconvinced Farkas. "Look, lady. You want information on my son, yes?" I nodded, wondering where he was going with it. "And you, I heard you want to find your friend." Farkas' expression instantly turned from surly to longing. "If you let me do this, and you bring a sapling back to Danica, then I'll help you find your friend."

Farkas visibly struggled with his choices. "I can't get help from the other Companions," he said to me awkwardly. "They don't want her around."

"Then do you think his offer is worth taking?" I queried. Farkas looked back and forth between the Eldergleam and Maurice, then heaved a big sigh.

"If there's even a chance of getting her back, then I guess so." He pointed the magic dagger at the Breton. "But don't think I won't march right back here if the priestess doesn't count this as a finished contract!"

Maurice nodded. "All right. Fine." He started to walk up the path to the Eldergleam, but I snatched his forearm before he could get anywhere.

"Hold on. I helped get him to stop, you're going to tell me what I want to know." My furious stare kept him rooted to the spot. "Tell me everything."

"Everything?" Maurice scratched his head nervously. "I don't have much information at all, I'm afraid."

"Give me what you know."

"Fine." He shifted his weight. "Last I saw Nade, he was a boy, barely ten years old. He's got to be maybe thirty years old now, maybe older."

"What's his mother's name?" I demanded.

"His mother was another Breton named Melanie Armenson. She had Nade take her last name since I was never around. After all, Kynareth's work is never done. I don't know if they're still there, since it's been nigh on twenty years since I last spoke to the boy. They lived in Solitude. His mother tended the Blue Palace's gardens, and by Kynareth, did she have quite the green thumb-"

I cleared my throat to interrupt and scowled at Maurice. "Solitude?"

"That's right. Capital of Skyrim, up in the northwest," he answered smoothly. "But I doubt they're still living there. She always said she wanted to get out of the city, so they may be somewhere else entirely." I gritted my teeth, disliking how little information I was getting. In fact, part of me wanted to cut this man down where he stood for the sole fact that he had anything to do with Nade. I stared him down for a short while longer.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid."

I rubbed my temples. "Fine. Thanks for your help." I turned to leave, but Maurice cleared his throat to get my attention again.

"Might I ask what you want with him? Just out of curiosity."

I bit my lip as I considered how to respond. "Your son has a debt to pay," I eventually said, trying not to scream.

Maurice shrugged. "Just curious. I don't care much." He headed up the path again, and Farkas gave me a last wave before following the Breton.

"Good luck finding your friend, Farkas!" I called out. A wet nose pushed against my hand, and I gave Karnwyr a half smile. "No, I didn't forget about you, buddy." I kissed the top of his red fuzzy head. "Let's go back to your master, huh? See if that lazy lump is up by now." With a yip of his own, Karnwyr trotted down the path, heading for our camp.

The walk back only took a few minutes, but it was time enough for me to think about the next clue I'd been unexpectedly given. I'd happened to run across Nade's dad in the most unlikely place. If I didn't know better, I'd say fate was pushing me to find him. The webs of fate...

"Morning, ladyship." I'd been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed I'd reached the camp, Bishop already cooking something over a low fire. "Sleep well?" he questioned. I snorted, which he obviously knew wasn't a true response, but he also didn't seem to care enough to press the matter. "Well, I sure did." He held up the wood he'd been using as a makeshift pan. "Elk bacon?"

I sat down beside him. "Don't mind if I do." I took a fresh piece of the meat, delighting in the crunchiness of the fresh breakfast. "Damn, this is good."

"I know." Bishop tossed a piece to Karnwyr, then started chowing down on the rest himself. "Better than anything you'll find in an inn, that's for sure. All that farmed meat, it just doesn't have the right flavor. A meal's not a meal unless you've hunted it down and killed it yourself."

I finished my bacon. "Keep cooking like this and I just might believe that."

"So, want to tell me what you got up to over there?"

"What are you talking about?" I bluffed. "I just went to explore a bit."

Bishop waved my excuse off. "Yeah, maybe it started that way, but I'm not an idiot, sweetness. You've got spriggan sap on your swords, and that flimsy armor that piece-of-shit blacksmith sold you has marks in it that weren't there last night." He tossed an elk bone to Karnwyr, who happily chewed away. "Plus, there are splinters in this old mutt's fur. Even without all that, you attract trouble like a magnet, so I'd have been shocked if you hadn't found some monster to slay or blubbering civilian to save. So, care to tell the truth, princess?"

My first instinct was to refuse, tell him to fuck off and be done with it. Instead of getting snippy, I found myself being honest with the ranger. "I woke up early and decided to explore, and I ran into one of the Companions here on a job."

Bishop snorted derisively and poked at the fire. "The Companions. What a joke." I shrugged and continued retelling the events.

"He was being tailed by a Breton who insisted he not cut the Eldergleam tree, which I guess is what that big tree is actually called." I lifted a corner of my mouth. "I'm afraid this isn't Bigass Tree Cave after all." Bishop laughed at my comment, making my smile wider. "You'll never guess who that Breton was, though."

"Do tell."

"Nade's father." I surprised myself with how even I managed to keep my voice, as well as the genuine interest in Bishop's eyes.

"Really? How serendipitous."

"Right? That's one hell of a coincidence. If I didn't know better, I'd say the gods want me to find Nade so I can tear his fucking throat out with my bare hands." Bishop didn't remark on my violent intent even though I'd expected him to. "But anyhow, he told me that I'd only get information on this estranged son of his if I convinced the Companion to leave the tree alone."

Bishop tossed another few sticks on the fire. "I take it you failed?"

"Kind of, but not really. See, once I started talking to the Companion, a bunch of the spriggans got hostile and started attacking us." I gestured to Karnwyr, happily gnawing on his bone. "If Karnwyr hadn't jumped in, I might have been much worse off after the fight. Not saying I wouldn't have won, of course, because I guarantee I would have."

"I know you would've." I peered suspiciously at the ranger but detected no sarcasm in his tone.

"Anyway, I did convince the Companion to leave the tree alone, and the Breton told me about Nade. Turns out Nade's from Solitude, so I'd like to head there next. Hopefully that bastard's there, but if not, I've at least got a few more people to question."

Bishop shrugged his shoulders. "Works for me. The fastest way is to head through Darkwater Pass to make it through the mountains, then go along the road to Whiterun." His face darkened for a moment. "Then through the roads of Falkreath."

I wondered for a moment at Bishop's clear dislike of Falkreath but didn't dwell on it. "I don't care if we take a road or cut through the wilderness. I just want to find Nade and kill him." I cracked my knuckles. "Once you're ready to head out, then so am I."

The ranger nodded wordlessly and tossed some water onto the fire. "Sure. Let's get going, princess."

...

Since the Eldergleam had healed my wounds, we'd been able to walk at a much swifter pace than before. In fact, we made it all the way to Darkwater Pass by dusk. While I'd wanted to keep moving in the darkness, Bishop insisted that the mountain pathway was much safer in the daytime. So, I reluctantly agreed to rest with him and make camp.

"Hey, would you mind gathering more firewood?" the ranger asked, keeping his eyes on the barely glowing wood. He blew on it slightly. "Princess? Head in the clouds, much?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah. Yeah, be right back."

"Take Karnwyr with you. Who knows what kind of trouble you'll get into."

"What, in two minutes?" I snorted. Bishop shot me a meaningful look, and I held up my hands in surrender. "Fine. Fair enough." I patted my thigh and whistled for Karnwyr to follow, and the wolf jumped up with a wagging tail. "Come on, buddy. Good boy." Rustling his fur, I headed off into the nearby woods. "Wanna help me out?" Karnwyr put his nose to the ground and started sniffing, passing several sticks I might have picked out. I had no idea what about them wasn't good enough, but I was at the least willing to trust the wolf's judgment.

All at once, Karnwyr stopped, his hackles rising as he bared his teeth in a snarl. I tried to comfort him by ruffling his fur, but he refused to be placated. He took a deep breath, then let it all out in one giant howl. Something's wrong. I tried drawing my swords, trying to prepare for a fight. I expected maybe a bear or other wild animal, but I never got the chance to find out. A yelp to my left and Karnwyr was down for the count. Before I got the chance to go to him or call out for Bishop, a heavy thud on my head knocked me out cold, and I knew no more.