The moon was standing high, throwing its glowing, silver rays down upon the world underneath. Thousands and thousands of stars decorated the black night sky, blinking in and out, like playful little fairies.
Stripes of green, blue and yellow aurora were brushed over it all as if an unknown, silent artist had snuck out just before nightfall and painted the sky.
Ruthalia sat upon a big rock, her legs crossed, her hands resting on her knees. It was bitterly cold. She could see her breath in tiny, little clouds before her, but she didn't feel the temperature's bite. The moon warmed her, its silver light embraced her, welcomed her. Its appearance called to her, to something deep within her body and soul. Something so ancient, she was sure not even her master would have understood.
She slowly got up, the whole time her eyes never failed to stare at the big silver circle on the sky.
At first it was just like an adrenaline rush, as if she was being chased and tried to get away, then her muscles began to tighten. She felt as if she was falling.
Ruthalia almost dropped to her knees, her face turned into a grotesque mask of pain and agony. Her every vein hurt as if it had been set on fire. Fur started to grow out of her arms, legs, back... Her ears, pointed and long by nature, grew even longer and reshaped to something even more useful and naturally skilled. Her mouth hurt the most. It started to stretch out, grow longer along with her nose.
She opened her eyes suddenly.
Instead of the soft, light brown, they shone in an eery yellow, her pupils long, slender slits.
Ruthalia looked down at her hands, now big and dark, thick, black fur growing on top of them. She spread her fingers, still long and slender but equipped with sharp claws, the light of the moon lightly reflected off their black surface.
She took a deep breath and closed her beastly eyes, sucking in the cold, fresh night air, now filled with so many more fragrances. There was a deer nearby and a rabbit just underneath the small hill she stood on. But there was something else, too...
Ruthalia sharpened her feral ears, they twitched slightly as they picked up a strange sound. Crackling of fire. She heard the crackling of fire, eating away on wood. And then, she smelled it, too.
Whoever had set it, obviously knew what they were doing, because it didn't give off much smoke, just enough for Ruthalia to notice it.
Her hunger was strong and she had just wanted to roam the forests, but her curiosity once again got the best of her, and so she took off towards the direction of the fire.
It took longer than she had imagined, until she finally saw it in the distance. It was a campfire, set up in a small glade against the side of a mountain.
Smart, Ruthalia thought. That way she cannot be attacked by all sides.
Ruthalia wondered what a single person was doing out here in the middle of nowhere, but then again, what was she herself doing out here?
It was obvious that the person was a woman, according to the scent.
Sweet and bitter.
She could not, however, determine what race she was. The person was hooded, wrapped into a thick cloak against the cold. Ruthalia sniffed quietly and felt her stomach growl as she sucked in the smell of roasted pheasant. Her favorite meat!
She shook her wolfish head. This was ridiculous. She was not supposed to beg for food, like a dog. She was supposed to hunt like the mighty beast she was. Had this not been her reason for transforming in the first place? Her hunger for a good, decent hunt? Had she not wanted to sink her teeth into the thick pelt of a moose?
But there was something else that had drawn her to this person and place. The scent of the woman had something very appealing, very attracting. Almost like an aphrodisiac.
Ruth! You should really turn around now! she rebuked herself and got ready to leave. Just as she had turned around however, she found herself eye to eye with someone.
The hooded woman.
The tip of an arrow pointed at Ruthalia's forehead. The woman's expression was grim and determined, yet somewhat fascinated. Ruthalia could not help but notice the endearing purple of her eyes and the soft sparkle in it, a sparkle of interest. She did not see Ruthalia as a monster, but what then?
"What are you doing here, beast? Do you understand me?"
Ruthalia tilted her big head and twitched with an ear. For a split second she noticed a twitch around the corner of the woman's mouth. Was she amused over that? Did she look funny? Most people would have either ran away screaming or tried to kill her. This woman however, did not seem the least bit frightened.
She pulled the string of the bow back a little further.
Okay, well maybe a little bit.
"Can you turn back? Can you reveal your true self?"
Ruthalia hesitated.
She should run away, leave this woman she didn't even know behind, and go her own way again. Meet up with Delphine, as she had told herself she would, after she had made her mind up about it. But had she? She still didn't know if she trusted Delphine.
No, this was not true. She did know that she didn't trust Delphine. But did this mean she could simply bail out and ignore this whole Dragonborn business? She should probably go back to the Graybeards, deliver the Horn and see what they wanted her to do next.
"I won't hurt you, I promise. But I won't let you hurt me either," the woman's soft voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
Ruthalia shook her head the slightest and sighed, blowing a little cloud of fog out of her nostrils.
Truth is, no she couldn't simply turn back into her human self. It just happened. There was no braking the lycanthropy while it was in process. There was no escaping the nature of the beast just like that, but she didn't want the woman to shoot her, or go away. What to do? Ruthalia tried to explain as best as she could to wait here, but it turned out to be a lot harder than she had thought. The woman cocked her head, but lowered her bow for a second, trying to figure out what this strange being in front of her tried to tell her.
"I don't understand."
Ruthalia sighed exasperated and put her big, clawed hands on her head, pulling a few black hairs. She looked around and then decided to take off to her right, away from the mountain, the woman and the fire. There was no explaining to her that she had to wait, best just head out while the woman was not paying more attention.
She ran through the thick forest, across the snowy ground, barely leaving a trail, her feet, strong and muscular, carrying her effortlessly. And then she saw it.
A big, strong buck, not twenty feet away from her trotting through the sleeping forest, unaware of the danger coming its way.
Ruthalia didn't slow down. She was in a frenzy now, the woman all but forgotten for the moment. All that remained was her growling stomach and the thick, hot blood pumping through her enlarged veins, filling her body with adrenaline. Her breath came in beastly, raged gasps. A hunting wolf.
The buck turned its head, its sleek ears twitched at the closer coming sound, its nostrils flared in fear and anxiety. It could barely turn around to start its flight before Ruthalia had wrapped her long arms around the animal's body, digging her teeth, long as daggers, into the creature's neck, tasting the blood that flew into her mouth dripping of saliva and hunger.
Sweet, sweet nectar.
She bit again, cutting through the buck's lungs and breaking its neck at once. It was dead in less than a heartbeat and a delicious feast indeed.
"You can come closer. I was actually wondering whether you would come back or not."
Ruthalia did as she was told, still uncertain if it was a good idea. She had thought about it for at least an hour, but in the end she had simply let her feet take over and walk her back to the campfire.
"I had to go back to collect my belongings," Ruthalia explained while coming closer. "After all, even if I would have been able to transform back in front of you, how would it have looked to show up almost naked?"
"I don't know. I have bumped into people dressed in little more than their underclothes, but not a werewolf yet," the woman answered, grinning.
Ruthalia sat down on the tree stump next to her. She smiled shyly.
"You can call me Karliah," the woman introduced herself, smiling slightly and offering a hand. She must have obviously spent quite some time in Skyrim, or at least around humans, to have adopted their way of greeting each other.
Ruthalia shook Karliah's hand.
"Ruthalia, nice to meet you."
"You look a lot better underneath all that fur and muscle," Karliah teased and Ruthalia couldn't help but smile a little.
The woman, who she could see now as being a Dark Elf, had just the slightest accent which Ruthalia couldn't place. She hadn't met many Dark Elves especially. They have always been distant, mysterious people, accused of all kinds of treachery and treason. But then, so were the Wood Elves. Anything different and unfamiliar to humankind, in fact.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that. I was just curious of the smell and wondered who would be out here in the middle of nowhere besides me," Ruthalia explained, looking into the fire.
"Were you planning to eat me?" Karliah asked bluntly, hiding the grin behind her hood.
"Oh, ehm … no. Of course not!" Ruthalia answered lamely.
What's wrong with you? Don't act like such a kid! She's just a person. Quite a snotty one at that! she told herself, frowning. Karliah chuckled.
"You want some pheasant?"
"Oh, sure! If you have enough, that is. Thank you."
Karliah took a piece out of the fire with a stick and handed it to Ruthalia. She took it with a grateful smile, blew on it and dunked it in the snow to cool it off, then took a bite.
Karliah sipped on a bottle of wine.
"That's quite tasty," Ruthalia complimented after a while of peaceful silence.
"Thank you, I wrapped it in some herbs and spices first. It's little effort and does a lot for the flavor," Karliah explained casually, offering Ruthalia a drink of the wine. "So, what are you doing out here all by yourself? Aren't there other werewolves? The Companions seem to be quite connected to them, if you believe what they say."
Ruthalia hesitated.
How does she know that?
She didn't want to expose her friends, especially since Kodlak had told her to be careful whom to trust with this. But this woman, mysterious as she might seem, has not yet attempted to harm her, not even when she had shown up as a werewolf, so she figured she could give her an answer.
"I prefer the serenity of solitude but the Companions are my friends, yes. I have simply been roaming the area and have felt the need to hunt, so here I am." she finished, taking a sip of the offered wine.
Karliah nodded then sighed and leaned back against the tree behind her.
"I quite like solitude myself, although it has been my follower for way too long now. It's nice to talk to someone without being judged or shot right away."
Ruthalia wrinkled her forehead. "Why is that? Are you being hunted?"
"You mean besides by lone werewolves?" she joked, grinning at Ruthalia who blushed a little. "It's a long story, but I guess I can tell you, if you wanna get yourself involved in it, that is."
"Sure, you can tell me. After all, I revealed myself to you, too, didn't I?"
"Just fair to give you a secret in return, hm? Alright then."
And so, while munching on roasted pheasant and drinking old wine, Karliah told Ruthalia that she had been part of the Thieves Guild in Riften for a long time, but that things have gone wrong drastically. She had been accused of the murder of a man called Gallus. Ruthalia could not help but notice the sadness that entered Karliah's eyes by the mention of his name.
So, now she was on the run, unable to prove herself innocent. Karliah knew Mercer to have killed the man but for that, too, she lacked proof.
Karliah watched Ruthalia's expression after she had finished her story, hoping for clues that she would be willing to help her. The things she could do with a werewolf by her side! Nobody could touch her, and she could cleanse her name of unfair accusations and own her righteous place back into the Thieves Guild. Maybe even lead them!
"Is there anything that would help you? Do you know of a place we could go to? Clues we could find?" Ruthalia asked finally, after what felt like hours to Karliah.
"I have his journal, but it is written in Falmer."
"Falmer?"
"The ancient tongue of the Snow Elves. I have heard, however, that there might be a translation to their language in Markath."
Ruthalia stared at the bottle of wine in her hands. She turned it around slowly while deep in thoughts.
Had it really been smart to come back to this person? She seemed open minded and funny, yes, but what else did Ruthalia know about her? Her name, and that she was being hunted. What if she did kill this Gallus, but tried to convince Ruthalia to think otherwise, use her to hide her crimes?
No, this can't be it. There was genuine, sincere sadness in her eyes when she had told her story. And why else would she be out here, all by herself?
Maybe nobody else trusted her. So why Ruth? Why would Ruthalia trust her?
Did she not have a destiny to fulfill? Was she not supposed to bring the Horn to the Graybeards? And meet up with Delphine? Find out more about the dragons' return? The Draugr? The Shouts and their power?
She closed her eyes shut for a second, trying to push all this aside.
She had not asked for this, she had never wanted this and still, here she was, burdened with the supposed fate to save the world.
What she should do, so her heart told her, was avenge her master. Kill the Dark Brotherhood. Kill them all!
Master...
But there has been no Dark Brotherhood since. No sign of them, no mention, location or anything. She didn't even know if they were in Skyrim or not. But then, what was she doing here? Should she not leave this place to do what was most important to her?
Images of that one dreadful night reappeared before her eyes. The limp, lifeless body of her master underneath her feet, just before she had tripped over him. The silence in his chest, when she had rested her head upon it. His cold skin. The smirk on the woman's face, just before she had taken off.
Her master would have wanted her to move on. And perhaps, he would have wanted her to do what's right and save this land and its people from the upcoming and immediate danger. He would have wanted her to follow the path that had been stretched out before her, for her.
But he would have also have wanted Ruthalia to help this woman.
Was Karliah not as much an outcast as she, Ruthalia herself, was? All by herself, with no one to trust or turn to? Abandoned by those closest to her? Maybe this Gallus was to Karliah what the master was to Ruthalia. All she has had. And now, she didn't even have a family, a guild to return to.
"I guess we'll be heading to Markath then," Ruthalia finally said.
Karliah's face lit up and a beautiful smile spread over her lightly gray tanned face. Ruthalia looked at her, the deep purple eyes, the high cheekbones and her slender lips. Her hair was all hidden within the hood, but a single, black strand found its way out of its hiding place and danced over Karliah's shoulder.
"Thank you, Ruth. I appreciate that."