When she arrived in Ivarstead the first thing she did was check in at the inn.
She was exhausted from the long ride and the fights. Every single muscle in her body was aching and there was still the untreated wound on her thigh. It made the Vilemyr Inn more than a welcome sight.
It was fairly big and, like most buildings in Skyrim, made of wood. In the center was a long fireplace, over which some food was cooking, sending its rich fragrance through the whole inn, causing Ruthalia's stomach to growl.
There were several benches and tables, all set up with plates and tankards. Garlic bulbs, pheasants and rabbits were hanging off the roof, right over the counter where a middle-aged man stood. He wore a regular cut, large shirt, tucked into brown pants. Bulky hands were washing the counter with a cloth.
"How can I help you?" he asked with a deep voice and a strong Nord accent.
"I'd like to rent a room."
"Sure, it's yours for a day." Ruthalia handed him ten gold. "Heard any rumors lately?" she asked out of curiosity.
The man hesitated for a while. "Have you seen the barrow yet?" he said. "There has been talk of it being haunted. I don't know whether to believe it or not, but every time someone tried to investigate the barrow they never came back."
Heavy silence followed for a moment before Ruthalia suggested looking into it. She believed in the supernatural. She still remembered having seen lost souls in a graveyard. They had left in the dead of night, a full moon was embracing the world with its silver light and warmth. The master had said it would be a perfect night. Ruthalia had not understood what he was talking about, but, as always she had followed him nontheless.
She had been a little frightened as she realized he was taking her to a graveyard, but as he put his big hand on her small shoulder, the weight reassuring, her fears vanished almost immediately. They sat on top of a hill, looking down at the many tombstones. Row after row. And then the first spirits would creep out of their resting places, coming back to a state of life, way beyond anybody's knowledge or imagination. Swirling through the nightsky, over the hills and fields, peacefully and almost artistic, like dancers. Sometimes they would embrace each other, or fade into the moonlight, reach for the stars. Vanish and reappear again. It had been a perfect night indeed.
Her fascination for the dead, however, was not the only reason Ruthalia accepted to investigate the barrow. She was desperate for money and aside from earning the innkeepers gratefulness, she enjoyed having a puzzle to solve.
The innkeeper seemed relieved that she was willing to give it a try and gave her a smile. "That would be very much appreciated," he said. "Just be careful out there. For now, I'll show you to your room. Right this way."
He lead her into a small room not far from where they were. It didn't even seem to have a door, just a curtain hung over the entrance, but it had a bed, a chair and a table and this was all Ruthalia needed.
She thanked the man and dropped some of her stuff on the floor, pushing it under the bed just in case there was anyone interested in selling stolen goods. She sat down on the relatively soft bed and had a few bites of cooked venison and bread she had bought from a friendly Khajit along the way. Then, she inspected her wound.
It was not infected yet and luckily it wasn't very deep either. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, calming her mind and body, then let the magic flow through her hand as a white glow and into the wound.
There was a sparkling sound and the wound began to close. With a sigh of relief she opened her brown eyes again and allowed herself a smile.
After a bottle of ale she felt refreshed and was ready to look into this supposedly haunted barrow. She checked her weapons, and left the inn.
As a wood elf, ghosts and spirits were no myth to her, but neither were they something to fear. The day was still young, for she had ridden through the night, and the sun was shining brightly and cheerfully. No cloud spoiled the blue sky and several birds were singing their songs. A soft, cool breeze was blowing through Ruthalia's reddish hair and stroked over her oval face. She closed her eyes as she lifted her head towards the sun and felts its warmth on her skin.
It reminded her of a day with her master. It was a day like this, when he had taken her into a deep, uninhabited cave. She had not been older than maybe seven summers. She remembered how afraid she was. Her heart was pounded faster with every step that took them deeper into the all consuming darkness. The only thing keeping her going was the silhouette of her master.
"Are you okay, Ruthalia?" he stopped to squad down before her. His voice was as soft as his eyes, which she could make out even in the deepest darkness. "You don't need to be afraid. There is nothing in here that you could not overcome, nothing that you could not face and fight. And I am here to help you.
"Don't you want to know what's in here?"
"I do," she said after a moment of hesitation, wrestling her little hands before her. "But I can't see anything, master. All this darkness scares me, I can barely see you. What if I lose you? I don't wanna lose you!" her voice rising a little higher with that last sentence, her eyes a little bigger with fear of that thought.
He smiled and messed up her hair "Now, now. What happened with my strong and fearless Ruthalia? Did the Frost Spiders get her?"
Ruthalia quickly, changed her posture, as if he had pushed a button, and shook her head wildly.
"Good! The darkness is nothing to be afraid of, Ruthalia. It can be your friend, your ally and your companion. It can be tricky, too, and sometimes make you see and hear things that aren't there. But it only does that, when it notices your fear.
"Darkness and fear are like constant opponents. They both try to mock each other. But while darkness will embrace and welcome you, fear will only tease you. Rarely has fear something smart to say. Most of the time, all it tries to do is slow you down, or even stop you completely."
"I am not afraid of fear! Fear cannot hurt me!" she said, lifting her chin proudly.
"Then why don't you lead the way, dear?" he suggested. The soft and amused smile unseen by Ruthalia.
She swallowed loudly and took a deep breath. She walked past her master and headed deeper into the cave. It took a while but pretty soon she noticed things she had been blind to before. She saw a big beetle's, shiny, green carapace. A thousand little legs supporting it as it climbed the rough walls, its little antennas twitching with every move, orienting itself.
High pitched sounds, barely audible even to her increased hearing, made her tilt her head back to look up at the ceiling, many feet above her. She could barely make out tiny, red glowing eyes. At first just a couple, then several and soon a dozen more. Before even her master noticed them, Ruthalia grabbed his arm and pulled so he would hunch down with her. Loud squeaking noises and the fast swapping of leathery wings went right over and past them, light bursts of wind hitting their backs, messing with their hair. As the sounds decreased they stood back up and looked after the winged creatures.
After a moment of silence, they both looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Bats. I should have thought of that. Well done, Ruthalia," the master complimented her, causing her to blush a little and a shy smile found its way on her face.
They moved on for quite a bit - the little wood elf proud of her new found calmness - before Ruthalia noticed that something about the area had changed. She narrowed her eyes to see a little further, to be sure that her thoughts were correct.
Light. She noticed very dim light in the distance.
They must have found the exit. Or an exit. She had no idea how big the cave really was and there was no way of telling unless they spend several days in the darkness, or at least made a torch. But Ruthalia knew that it was all part of making her like the master. And that's exactly what she wanted to be. Like her master.
They got closer and soon found themselves in broad daylight. It took Ruthalia several minutes to adjust her sight to the changed surrounding, but, once the light did not hurt her eyes anymore, she was in awe.
The cave had ended right before a beautiful, secluded glade. A large and silent stream lay before them, surrounded by towering, dark green pine trees. High grass grew in patches, some of it even in the stream, swaying gently to the rhythm of the wind.
Wildflowers were declaring their territory, spreading untamed all over the enchanting glade. Butterflies were enriching the glade with dozens of colors. Blue, purple, pink, orange, yellow and many more. Bees were filling the air with constant, soft humming and light vibrating. Birds were chirping and presenting their voices to the world. This place, so sweet and inviting, was like another world all by itself.
Ruthalia smiled and looked over to her master. He stood right next to her, a peaceful smile on his face, too. The sun was shining down on them. Ruthalia turned her head away again, lifting it towards the sun, closing her eyes to enjoy its warmth.
Finding the barrow was easy. It was right across the road from the inn, hidden a little behind some houses and bushes. It was black stone, covered with ivy and moss. Most of the entrance had fallen apart already but, once the elf had squeezed her slender self into the broken opening, it increased in size.
The barrow was obviously still used by someone, judging by the two torches burning in front of an iron door. Ruthalia pushed it open with little effort and made her way down a set of circling stairs - not without having grabbed one of the torches beforehand however.
Once down the last step, she was glad she had the light of flames with her. It was almost completely dark. Without a torch, it would have been the same as laying inside a coffin, like she had crossed the boundary between the living and the dead.
"I wonder if master would have agreed," she grinned.
Feeling her sword's reassuring weight on her waist, she took a deep breath of the dusty, stuffy air and moved ahead.
The tunnels were narrow and dirty. Dust clung to every inch of the ancient building. Rats and mice crossed Ruthalia's path every so often. Squeaking and scratching sounds followed her everywhere and caused her stomach to tighten with an uneasy feeling.
Weird howling and moaning sounds seemed to emanate from the thick walls. Dirt was falling off the ceiling, collecting on the worn out floor. To her right was a caged door, to her left were stairs leading deeper into the tomb.
"Leave this place!" a disembodied voice called from behind the caged door, startling Ruthalia. A light apparition was standing right behind the bars, its pale blue hands clinging to the metal, before it faded away.
A sudden grunt made Ruthalia draw her sword with a surprised gasp; the noise echoing loudly in the empty tomb.
A Draugr slashed its black ax straight down at her.
Blocking it just before it could split her head in two, she managed to push the Undead away from her. Where had it come from?! She had expected ghosts, not Undead!
Shocked by its appearance she felt her heart drop into her tightened stomach. Spirits and ghosts were one thing, but the stinking Undead were quite another.
Not letting fear get the best of her however, she drew her sword back to let it come down in return. The creature staggered on its feet, charging with mindless intent, its only purpose to protect whatever was in this tomb. But it did not react fast enough to block Ruthalia's attack, and soon it joined the dust and dirt on the ground.
Its eyes; which at first had been glowing a deep, intense blue; now were dull and colorless like a flame that had gone out.
Ruthalia took a deep breath and gathered herself, moving faster into the tomb, which was not so dead after all.