It just had to start raining on the day they left.

Issana really wished there was someone she could blame. Unfortunately, the weather was just the weather, and it wasn't really a surprise either. This was the Rift, after all. People said it rained for half the year, and the rest of the year it was about to.

Exaggeration or not, today was very, very wet.

Issana blew water from the rim of her hood before it could drip onto her nose. She had a cloak wrapped tight about her to ward off the wind, but the wetness kept finding a way down inside, running down her neck or into her boots. The air was icy cold, too; her breath clouded in front of her every time she exhaled.

"You really had to choose today, didn't you?" said Rune. "Not yesterday, not tomorrow, today."

"You wanted to come," she retorted. "Got to send that letter to your dear old dad. How do you even know he's still in Solitude? You haven't seen him in years."

"He's a fisherman," Rune said. "Where else would he go? He never had any intention of leaving when I was still around, and I know he wouldn't have changed his mind."

Thunder rolled through the forest and Rune glanced up at the sky. "Weather's getting worse."

"I noticed."

Rune laughed. "You really are unpleasant when you're unhappy, you know?"

"Get used to it," said Issana. "I'm going to be unhappy until we get back to Riften and I can drink away all of my hard-earned coin."

"Do I get a cut for keeping you company?"

"No. You can pick some pockets in Whiterun if it makes you happy."

"That's the plan. Trade centre, remember? Lots of heavy pockets."

"Meanwhile I get to be hunting down this Mallus what's-his-name and finding out what I'm supposed to be doing." Issana kicked a rock along the road. "I hate Maven."

"Doesn't everyone?" Rune said. "Pays well, though."

"That's about the only thing keeping me going in this weather."

Rune snorted. "And the fact that if you turn around, Maven'll find out and have you killed."

"That too."

The rain continued to pour down as Riften faded away behind them. The road wound its way westward along the shores of Lake Honrich, a heavy mist nestled in comfortably over the water. Issana gave the lake a passing glance, wondering if she could see Goldenglow Estate through the fog, but it was hidden.

They stopped for the night on the outskirts of a small farming village. where four or five houses were surrounded by a ramshackle wooden fence that had certainly seen better days. They made camp beneath the overhang of a low cliff that was angled sharply enough to keep the rain out. Rune had a fire going shortly.

"That's better," he said, shedding his dripping cloak and kicking off his boots. He set them by the fire to dry.

Issana removed her cloak gingerly and tried to keep the water from getting into her clothes. She was unsuccessful. "See, this is why no one travels in the Rift," she said. "It's wet, it's cold, and there's nothing you can do about it." She squeezed her braid over the campfire to get the water out.

Rune lay back with his arms behind his head. "A little rain never hurt anyone."

"A little rain? This is what you call a little rain?"

"At least it's not snowing."

Issana sat back against the rock wall of their shelter. "It wouldn't be so wet."

"Yes, it would," Rune said with a laugh. "Snow gets inside your shirt, your boots, and then it melts. Have you ever had freezing water pooling in your trousers?"

"I do right now," said Issana, shifting uncomfortably towards to the fire.

"You'll live."

Issana glared at him. "Of course I'll live. But I could be living in comfort in Riften. I have a bed, shelter, and people who will leave me alone…"

"Nice try," said Rune. "But you told me to come so you wouldn't go crazy talking to yourself."

"I know, I know."

"Is complaining your way of not going crazy?"

"Yes."

Rune shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Issana shifted in discomfort at the dampness in her clothes. At least the fire was helping.

Rune glanced up at her. "It doesn't bother you when I talk about my father, does it?"

Issana frowned. "Why would it?"

"I don't know. He adopted me, and you never really had anyone…"

"So?"

Rune looked away and watched the fire instead. "I just wanted to make sure. I know it's not easy not knowing your real parents, but at least I had-"

"Just let it go, all right?"

Issana was momentarily surprised by the sharpness in her own tone. Rune looked startled. "All right, sure," he said. "Sorry."

Issana ignored him and lay down on her side, facing away from him. There was a confusion in her mind that she didn't know what to do with. She didn't even really know what it was. She sighed.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Issana said. "Go to sleep. We've got a long way to go tomorrow."

The rain showed no sign of letting up the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. Issana was starting to feel like she'd been wet ever since they left Riften. Lake Honrich was far behind them now; in its place was a wide river that wound its way north and west with the road following beside it. They passed few other people. Sometimes a patrol of Rift soldiers would happen past, greeting them with a curt nod of the head, and other times it was a group of farmers heading to a nearby village with carts, but for the most part they were quite alone.

On the fifth day, the rain finally stopped and the faintest rays of sunlight began to pierce through the clouds. Issana threw back her hood and stared up at the brightening sky. "Finally!"

"We must be nearing the edge of the Rift," said Rune. "We're probably only a couple days out from Ivarstead."

"You know what that means?" said Issana. "It means we're still a couple of days short of halfway."

Rune shook his head in mock despair. "Always a bundle of optimism, aren't you?"

Issana hop-skipped and kicked a pebble as far ahead as she could. "I wish I was asleep in my bed."

"You might find life a little more enjoyable if you found more things to like about it."

Issana snorted. "Ooh, look at that beautiful flower! And listen to the rumble of the river! Ah, how lovely to finally be experiencing Skyrim's beautiful wilderness!"

"Now you're ruining it for me, too."

"Misery loves company."

Rune gave her a playful shove. "That should be your name. Misery Hastratus. Got a bit of a ring to it."

"Sounds perfect."

"Where did you get your name, anyway?" Rune asked. "I've been wondering that for awhile, actually. Was it in a note when you were left at Honorhall?"

Issana shrugged. "That's what I was told."

"Sounds Cyrodiilic."

"I'm sure it is. There are a lot of Imperials in the southern holds."

"Do you ever wonder who they were?" said Rune. "Your parents, I mean."

Issana looked over at him. "No, I don't."

"Why not?"

"What difference would it make? I wouldn't know where they went or why they abandoned-" She hesitated and corrected herself. "Why they left me."

Rune gave her a glance that said he was reading far too much into her words. "Sometimes I think it would just be nice to know," he said. "I mean, you know how much time and effort I put into finding out who my family was. It's why I left my adoptive father in the first place. Not that it ever amounted to anything."

"Do you miss him?"

"Sometimes I do." Rune looked towards the northwestern horizon. "We had our differences, sure. But he was still my father. He saved my life."

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The road curved northwards and the trees began to thin as the ground grew rockier. "Look," said Rune, pointing towards the northern horizon. "See that? It's the edge of the plateau. Once we get there it's only a day's walk to Ivarstead, where we'll find an inn, a warm hearth, hot food, and anything you want to drink."

"Good," said Issana. "Let's hurry it up a bit, then." She couldn't really tell what Rune was pointing at; it just seemed like nothing. But she took his word for it.

She found out exactly what it was the following afternoon. The reason it had looked like nothing was because there truly was absolutely nothing there. The ground simply fell away, a steep, rocky slope in its place before it leveled out again a few hundred feet below. The road became a treacherous path back and forth, snaking its way carefully down the jagged incline.

"Would you look at that," Rune breathed in awe.

On the northwestern horizon, rising like a jagged bone of Nirn itself, so wide and vast beyond anything Issana had ever imagined, was a mountain. Its snow-white slopes soared into the clouds above and dwarfed the surrounding landscape.

"The Throat of the World," Rune murmured. "I'd heard the legends. But I never expected something like this."

Even Issana couldn't help but stare in wonder. "I never thought…"

"I'd say that's worth the journey. Would you?"

Issana's gaze traced up the mountain's slope and into the heavens. "I don't know what to say."

Rune shifted his pack and started down the steep path. "Well, you'll have days to come up with something. We'll be able to see it for a long time before we get to Whiterun."

Issana didn't follow him right away. Her eyes lingered on the mountain, searching, though she didn't know what for.

"You coming?"

Issana broke from her reverie. "I-yes. Of course." She gave the mountain a final look. The feeling was gone. She shook herself, then followed Rune down the slope.