Journey to the West
"The Reach?" said Serana as they sat in the cave. The fire crackled between them and Finn and Tibius were picking over a slaughterfish that lay close by. Emily took a draught from the red bottle lying at her side and nodded.
"Mogrul reckoned we'd be able to purchase the stone we need from there," she said.
"We'll need to travel to the capital then," said Serana, "To Markarth."
"What do you know about Markarth?" Emily asked, "We passed through the Reach, Talof and I, but we never went near the capital."
"From what I've heard it was built on the ruins of a great Dwemer city," Serana replied, "It's known as the City of Stone."
"Sounds promising," said Emily. Serana fished in her bag and handed Emily an old tattered book.
"Here, I picked this up on our travels," she said, "Might tell you a bit more than I can." Emily took the book and opened it at the first page. In angular black lettering were the words, 'City of Stone: A Sellsword's Guide to Markarth by Amanda Alleia.' Emily drew her cloak about her, sitting with her back to the wall next to her vampiric companion as she began to read. Serana fetched another book from her bag and settled back against the wall.
"The Silver-Blood Inn?" Emily commented, "What an awful name for an Inn, sounds kind of like a death sentence for vampires." Serana looked up from her book. "I mean, imagine if the human race suddenly somehow turned their blood to silver," Emily went on. Serana chuckled.
"You say the most ridiculous things, Em," she said.
As the day wore on reading gave way to sleep. Emily slept nestled close to the vampiress. Near the beginning she had done so as it gave her a sense of security when they made camp in any of Skyrim's cosier caves for the night, now it was simply out of habit. Emily mused that when she had been mortal Serana's skin had felt cool to the touch. Now it felt as warm to her as that of any living person and, in fact, being close to a mortal now felt like standing close to a furnace. It was all comparative, she concluded as she nodded off.
When night fell they left the cave. Emily wasted no time in scaling the old oak tree. From here she looked out over the forest and from here she noticed the first rustling of activity. The dense undergrowth shifted and stirred. Then for the briefest of moments two bushes parted and Emily saw a lantern swaying on a long pole. It flickered on the face of the man carrying it and subconsciously Emily's hand reached for her bow. Then she paused and relaxed as the lantern's light fell upon a great many lengths of lumber, lashed together and pulled by the company of men. Emily climbed quickly out of the tree and relayed to Serana what she had seen. They left the clearing and set off into the forest to meet the men. A few quick greetings were exchanged and they each took up a rope and helped in hauling the great load to the clearing. Emily noted that several times a few of the men exchanged anxious glances and once or twice Emily caught them looking at her or Serana. This made her a little uneasy and it was with a sigh of relief that they reached the clearing. Then, as quickly as they had come, the men left.
"I think we'll need to get our lumber from elsewhere next time," said Serana, voicing Emily's thoughts, "They were suspicious having to make the delivery by night."
"Where from?" Emily asked, "I'm not sure I'd make a very good lumberjack. Give me a rope and I'll haul with the best of them but-." She shrugged her shoulders to emphasise her point.
"I guess even your optimism has its limits," Serana smiled, "Anyway, we can worry about this later. It's time we left for the Reach." Emily nodded. She and Serana returned to the cave to pack and to fetch Tibius and Finn. The logs had been left in a well sheltered area of the clearing out of the weather.
They followed the dirt track down to the road and struck out westward. It was four nights before they crossed the boarder from Falkreath into the Reach. The terrain was harsh and hilly which made for slow progress and took them past impressive-looking towers of stone and alongside steep-sided canyons. The roads were not so well maintained here and sometimes they followed little more than a dirt track. The land was wild and the people who inhabited it, still wilder. Emily sometimes caught sight of them, out of reach of the torchlight, shadowy figures lurking in the hills and when she saw them she and Serana would find cover. Although Serana was more than a match for a group of crazed Reachmen and Emily a more skilled fighter than when she had entered this wild world, they strove to keep to the shadows and avoid confrontation where possible.
Their first night in the Reach they spent in an abandoned fort that overlooked the road. Here they found the bodies of several dead Imperial legionnaires, casualties of Skyrim's bloody civil war. The bodies were not long dead and once they had quenched their thirst they carried out a thorough search of the fort. Upon finding it empty they set up camp for the day. The fort had been stripped of most of its provisions by the unknown force that had swept through it but she was able to recover some arrows from the armoury and a few purses of gold coins the raiders had missed. One of the rooms they came to looked to have once been the Imperial captain's quarters judging by the ragged remains of a red banner bearing the Imperial crest which hung over the once lavish bed. The sheets had been torn, the pillows scattered their down across the floor and the embroidered throw had been tossed into the fireplace where much of it was blackened. The smell of smoldering fabric pervaded the room. Emily lifted what remained of the throw from the fireplace and tossed it out into the hallway.
"I'll never understand people like this," she said as she wove an enchantment over the sheets, knitting together the worst of the tears, "What they can't use they destroy."
"That's what happens when men and mer are driven by hatred and anger," Serana replied calmly, "You remember what my father did to the garden." Emily nodded.
"Well, I've mended them as best I can," she said, indicating the sheets, "I think I'll hit the hay. You?"
"Maybe in a bit," Serana replied, "I think I'll look around some more."
Emily kicked off her boots and flopped down onto the bed. Finn curled up on the pillow next to her and soon she slipped into a light doze.
When she next woke there was little to tell how much time had passed for this room had no windows. It was Serana who had woken her and she saw through eyes blurred by sleep the urgency in her eyes. Quickly she got out of bed and Serana motioned for her to be silent. She listened and then she heard them. They spoke in an accent unfamiliar to her, harsh and rasping.
"Looks like someone got here before us," said one.
"Those damnable Nords," said another, "Quick, Thoragon, search for any survivors. If any of those Nords are still skulking around, I'd like to let them have a word with my axe."
'Forsworn,' Serana mouthed. Emily nodded, drawing her blade. She glanced at her watch. It read quarter to nine. They moved silently toward the door and stopped again to listen. The voices were coming from further down the corridor. Emily opened the door a crack and peered out. The hallway was still and she motioned for Serana to follow. At the far end of the stone corridor stood the door that would take them back out into the chill night air of the Reach. When they had first arrived the corridor had seemed short but now with the voices drawing nearer the distance seemed dismayingly far. They saw their shadows first, their horned headdresses giving them a bestial appearance in silhouette and when they came around the corner and froze at the sight of the two vampiresses the torchlight flickering on their skin did little to alter this. One among them seemed more brute than the rest. He had restless black eyes sunk deep into his sockets and he carried a large axe made from sharpened stone wedged into twisted wood and bone. It was he who reacted before either of his two comrades, loosing a snarl that was more animal than man as he ran at them.
Their weapons clashed in the centre of the corridor. Two on one should have made it an easy fight but every lunge that was made, the brute of a man deflected with astonishing ease. His bestial strength and savagery was accompanied by a wolf's cunning and intelligence. Serana darted back as another blow was aimed at her stomach. Emily's hair stood on end as the axe came within a hair's breadth of the vampiress' armour. She had learned in the numerous battles she and Serana faced that there were two types: the kind where victory is almost certainly assured and you feel only a mild rush of adrenaline and the kind where victory seems uncertain and perhaps, unlikely. In these battles every nerve feels afire and chokes all sense from your mind. Every sense is alert and acute and you perceive each moment as an eternity. This was one such battle. She glanced down the hall and saw that the other two Forsworn had not moved from their positions. This surprised her though she had little time to dwell on this as she dodged a blow aimed at her neck. She rolled to one side out of the way of the axe as it swung down again.
As the force of the blow sent a shockwave rippling up the arms of the massive warrior she looked into his face and saw the snarl still fixed there. Then she caught sight of something else. The man's chest was heavily scarred and at the centre of the scarred tissue was a gaping hole crisscrossed by wooden stakes. Glowing and pulsating beneath this macabre stitching was a glowing blossom. As she scrambled to her feet a plan began to take form.
"Serana," she cried, "His chest." Serana ducked another blow.
"What about it?" she asked.
"There's a glowing thing in it," she answered, "I think that's what is powering him. Get it out while I try to distract him." With that Emily leapt at the Forsworn warrior. She didn't really have a clear idea in mind of how distract him when she made the leap but now as her arms wrapped around the arm holding the axe she clung on like grim death. She knew that if he wrenched her loose for even a moment that would be an end to it. She set her teeth, trying to pull him towards the wall. But she was a good deal shorter than him and though her vampiric abilities leant her a strength unmatched by many, she found it was all she could do to hold her ground.
Serana ran towards the Forsworn, dagger in hand. It was deceptively difficult to aim for the tiny spot his heart once occupied. Several times her dagger missed, slicing at the flesh surrounding the jagged opening and each time the Forsworn writhed, redoubling his efforts to free himself. But at last she heard the wood splintering as her dagger sliced a neat gash in the stitching covering the briarheart. Then she lunged forward and her hand closed around the blossom. The splintered wood dug into her hand as she wrenched at the blossom and with a horrible tearing sound it came free.
The effect was immediate. In an instant every muscle in the Forsworn's body went limp and he crumpled, his axe hitting the ground with a resounding clang. They stood for a moment, breathing heavily and feeling the intense relief that comes with a hard won victory. It was only when they recovered that they discovered that the other two Forsworn had fled.
"They've probably gone to fetch their matriarch," Serana said, "We should get out of here. One dance with death is about all I can stand tonight." Emily nodded and they made for the door and fled out into the night.
"What was that thing in his chest?" Emily asked as they climbed a steep hill that took them up away from the ruined fort.
"A briar heart," Serana replied, "I've heard of that ritual before but I've never seen it with my own eyes until tonight."
"Ritual?" Emily questioned.
"The hagravens made a bargain with the Forsworn," Serana explained, "They give them great power and strength in return for their humanity and to do that they replace their hearts with briar hearts. Did you look at his eyes? His thoughts weren't his own."
"I saw alright," Emily shuddered, "It was like looking into the eyes of a zombie."
"A zombie isn't far from what they are," Serana replied as she took Emily's hand, helping her up a particularly large boulder. "The only difference is that they're still living…sort of."
"That's not living," Emily shook her head, "Why would anyone do that?"
"Someone might ask the same of us," Serana replied matter-of-factly.
"I don't see how much has changed for us," Emily replied, "Aside from our feeding habits perhaps." She looked up at the sky where the clouds had finally parted. "I can look up into the night sky and still appreciate its beauty. I can still see and hear the wonders around me and love those close to me. We're still living, Sera, just differently." Serana smiled. Emily caught up to her and they continued on up the grassy hills studded with stark chalky rock on their journey to Markarth.
* * *
It was a further three nights before they saw the twinkling lights of the city on the horizon. Emily was reading from the book Serana had given her in the cave before they'd set out from Falkreath.
"I guess our best bet would be to start in the tavern," she said, "Seems to be a regular watering hole for all Markarth's wealthy businessmen."
"And failing that we can go down towards the Riverside," Serana replied, "That's where all the mining work goes on after all. Might as well go straight to the source."
They left the mountains and descended the steep slopes until at last they rejoined the cobblestone road that would take them right up to the city.
It was coming up to midnight when they reached the city gates. The guard on duty was a surly lout with a heavily tattooed face and rippling muscles with which he gripped the cudgel he carried. Even though a battle seemed unlikely he had a menacing way of gripping the weapon that made Emily distinctly uneasy. She'd already made up her mind that this was a city you didn't want to get on the wrong side of.
After a few gruff questions he allowed them inside. As the great iron gates clanked shut behind them they found themselves in a large open air market. Despite the lateness of the hour several merchants were still flogging their wares. One man's cart was laiden with great joints of meat, each with blood oozing from it which, to Emily's dismay, made her thirst for a bite. She quickly turned her gaze away from the sight and saw that Serana had done the same. But on following her gaze she found it to be for an entirely different reason. Her sights were focused on a man in grubby patched clothes. He was evidently trying not to be seen and every so often she saw his fingers dance over the hilt of a sharp-looking blade belted at his hip. His movements were furtive and it seemed as though he was waiting for someone. Emily joined Serana in her vigil as they moved along to another stall, keeping the man in sight. They had stopped by a fruit stall stocked with apples, small baskets of Jazbay grapes and crates of juniper berries. Emily picked up one of the apples under the pretense of checking it for bruises and imperfections. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man pulled the blade from its scabbard as he advanced towards a woman in a pale blue dress. She had her back to him and did not see his rapidly approaching form. Emily dropped the apple, much to the annoyance of the stallholder and pulled her own blade.
"Look out," she yelled as she hurried towards the woman. Her outcry had two effects: it made the woman whirl around to face her attacker and at the same time her attacker faltered. The element of surprise had been lost. The woman screamed when she saw the dagger poised over his head but the next second her would-be attacker whirled upon the one who had called out. Emily found herself staring into eyes tainted with madness as the man's lips parted to shout, "For the Forsworn!" Then he charged.
At the mention of the dreaded name of the Reachmen the whole market broke into disarray. Several citizens called for the guards as Emily and the madman clashed in the centre of the market. Sparks flew from their blades as they crashed together again and again. Emily heard running footsteps and felt a stall against her back as she took another step back. The man lunged and together they crashed into the stall. The wood splintered as the stall collapsed and them with it. The moment she crashed to the ground, Emily rolled to one side, breathing quickly. But the man did not move. Emily saw the blood pooling beneath him and when she turned him over cautiously his eyes were glassy and staring. He had fallen on his own blade.
Serana helped Emily to her feet as the guards swarmed the marketplace. They quickly shooed away any onlookers and those that would not go were grabbed by the scruffs of their jerkins and hauled from the marketplace. One of the stallholders, a Redguard woman, was talking to the man's would-be victim, pushing a mug of ale into her shaking hands.
"Let's not stay here any longer than we have to, Sera," said Emily. Serana nodded.
"By the gods," said a voice close beside her. She turned to see a man with a tattooed face and long blonde hair. He was staring at the dead man in the wreckage of the stall. "A woman attacked right on the streets. Are you alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Emily replied.
"I think you dropped this," said the man, pushing a piece of paper into Emily's hand, "Some sort of note. Looks important." Emily unfolded the piece of paper. Written in the centre were the words, 'Meet me at the shrine of Talos.'
"The shrine of Talos, wh-," Emily began but the man had already gone.
"Where did he go?" she asked Serana. Serana shook her head.
"No idea," she replied, "Come on, let's head inside. We can decide what to do about all this over a few pints of mead."