This probably should have been mentioned last chapter. To pronounce the names, here's a key. Catro (Kat-row) Keerava is (Key-raw-va) lastly, and very sadly, Arien is (Are-e-en) There you have it. Enjoy this chapter! Many nights were spent on it O_O
Please leave a review! I love reading them
The road leading to Riften was always astoundingly beautiful. The snow had long since stopped, and the trees sparkled with a fresh, dazzling white blanket. Mountain flowers were blossoming all along the road, creating brilliant explosions of color. They stood out in the snow covered ground, freshly blossoming in the mornings caress. The sun rose slowly, burning brightly in the sky and chasing away the cold of night. The morning birds had begun to sing there sweet songs, twittering happily and jumping from each branch and fluttering thought the air with expert movements. The world began to awake with a montage of morning sounds, sights, and smells. The sight was incredibly beautiful, Catro would have stopped and enjoyed it, breathing in every scent of the morning and carefully observing each detail. She would scamper around like a child, wanting to pick the fresh flowers or carefully watch the birds, absorbing there sound, but she was to focused on keeping upright and not bleeding out on the cold ground. She had stumbled down the road, unable to walk straightly, leaving a trail of blood splotches littering the pathway behind her. It stained the pure white snow a bright red color, and she was fiercely hoping that it didn't attract any hungry predators. . Her right hand was clamped tightly over the deep cut on her shoulder, a blow that would have been fatal if her instincts hadn't kicked in. She was using her other hand to clutch her side, attempting to keep pressure on the wound in a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. The hours seemed to drag on as she continued to limp heavily from the exhaustion that was gripping her, trying desperately to keep moving and stay on her feet. This wasn't the first time she had been heavily damaged, Catro was a warrior and she fought like one. She had engaged in to many battles and fights to count, and had been injured many times. But this was different. Her best friend who she had traveled with, who she had told every secret to, who put a smile on her face everyday, was now lying dead on the cold floor of a cave. It had been so unexpected, and the total shock had gripped her like an iron fist that refused to let go or even loosen its grip in the slightest. Her face was twisted in an expression of pain, anger, and sadness. She clenched her teeth tightly, and her eyes were full of nothing but pain and exhaustion.
Every event replayed itself in her mind a hundred times over. Her head was pounding, trying to process every detail at once. For awhile she had refused to believe it., she wanted to turn around and see Arien standing there. She wanted to watch him fix his long brown hair so it wasn't hanging in the way of his crystal blue eyes. Hoping in her heart that he was still there didn't help, only had it forced her to relive every detail of him. She could still see him if she closed her eyes. He wore a set of reinforced leather armor with thick black pants. His steel swords were always fastened to his sides and a hunting bow adjusted on his back. She had always offered to get him better armor, insisting that he protect at least his chest better, last night had proven why. He had looked at her with such a look of innocence on his face, smirking and remarking that "You don't need good armor, you just need to know how to fight." It hurt her heart to think about, any thoughts of him brought back a flood of memories. Almost a year they had traveled together, and nothing about him had ever even given her the slightest hint of his intensions. Together they had laughed, been in pain, recovered and then fought again. Together they had lived there lives. And now he was gone. She stopped walking for a second, grabbing onto a large oak tree for support. She was a warrior. She knew pain, she knew how to keep fighting even when everything else looked grim. Strength was her ally, and also her captor. And for the first time in a long time, she cried.
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Traveling to Riften never actually took a long amount of time. The road was almost straightforward, with wide curves and very few obstacles. Every so often it would slant slightly upward, but it was gradual and could be easily overcome. She was grateful for the simple layout, hoping to get to the gates soon. Glancing up at the sky, it was already a little past midday, the sun high up in blue sky, burning warmly down on her. On a normal day, it might have taken her a little less then half a day to get there. This was not the case with her injuries. The blood flowing from her side had lessened slightly, still oozing but not gushing blood. Her shoulder, on the other hand, had not lessened in the slightest. She began to fear bleeding out more then anything, losing consciousness and falling to the snow covered ground, leaving the wolves to drag her away. Two days before she had run out of potions, using the last one after a nasty run in with a group of Falmer, and her weariness had sapped every bit of energy from her. She didn't have the strength to cast any healing spells. She raised her head, still searching for any sign of life, and signs to show the way, or the wonderful sight of Riften's gates. Stumbling again she continued, when something to the right caught her attention. An abandoned campsite jutted out from the road. An old fire pit black with ash blew silently in the wind, with the branches cleared from an area people had obviously slept. She craved a rest, wanting to stop for awhile, try to regain some strength, but she knew that would be a death sentence. If she waited to long or couldn't get back up, she would die in the wilderness. Her legs ached with exhaustion, yet she forced herself to continue.
The day was begging to come to a close as fast as it had begun. Everything seemed to go bye in a blur as she continued on the path. The sun was beginning to set, and with it would come the cold of night, she had to make it to town soon or risk freezing to death in the dark. The loss of blood was starting to interfere with her senses, but she tried her best to push past it. She rounded another corner, starting to feel the chilly wind that blew in the night. Her body temperature had defiantly dropped due to the open wounds, and the wind that blew and kicked up snow was not helping. And then with a sudden panic, she realized that she was beginning to slow down. She forced herself onward, but the pain and dizziness was beginning to become overwhelming. Then, like a miracle, she saw something that gave her a burst of hope. A wooden sign was planted at the spilt road not to far ahead. Her legs jumped with a new energy to it, and she grabbed to the wooden post for support. A large wooden arrow pointed left, with the words "Riften" carved into it and covered with black paint. That had to mean that town was not far ahead. She pushed off the sign with her good hand, wandering down the road in an effort to get there quickly. But she was not stupid. If she exerted to much energy now, she would fall, never even seeing the gate. So she set off at a controlled pace, survival on her mind. The sky was turning a reddish color, swirled with a brilliant orange that lit up the sky. Night was approaching fast.
She continued the journey, refusing to give into the pain or exhaustion that held onto her so tightly. It clamped her tightly like the jaws of a wolf, and she still harbored guilt and pain deeply in her heart. The cold was becoming more present, wrapping her in a blanket of chills as she still struggled to walk along. The birds that had once sang thought the day began to grow silent with the presence of the dark, being replaced with the whistling wind and the cooing of night animals. She was panting heavily now, and her eyes were drooping with exhaustion. The lights of the sky began to fade, and new stars began to peak through. She glanced up at the sky, admiring the bit of beauty. She had been dazed all day, and still was dizzy from the loss of blood. She shook her head, attempting to replenish the blood flow in her head. Catro stumbled again, gritting her teeth at the pain. She looked down at her hand, finding it caked in her own blood. She grabbed her side again, trying to shake off the disturbing sight. The wind blew again, more forceful this time, carrying snow and freezing cold air that struck her face. She tucked her head down, fighting against the bitter air until it finally subsided. She raised her head again, her teeth still clenched tightly in an effort to keep them from chattering loudly. She rounded another corner, nearly crashing into a pine tree but catching herself. She looked forward again, and a sudden relief flooded over her. Just through the trees she could make out the wooden guard tower that sat outside of Riften. She smiled weakly, forcing herself along, but she wasn't done yet. The pathway changed from dirt to stone under her feet, a clear indication that she was nearing the gate. The sun had long since set throwing the world into darkness with the exception of millions of twinkling stars that littered the sky.
The double towers came more into her sight, and she could just make out the large stone wall that surrounded the city and led to the gate. She made it up to the towers, glancing up and seeing that the guards were already in the barracks. A sudden dizziness reminded her again just how much blood she had lost as she stumbled up the hill. The gate was in sight now, and of course, still no guards. She grabbed the gate handle, using most of her remaining strength to push the piece of old wood open. The gates to Riften were fortified in a quite unique way, they were heavy to push open to avoid easy attacks, but easy to push from the other side. She shoved it open, nearly collapsing with the amount of strength it took. The streets were dark without a single face in sight, and lights could be seen on the inside of most of the buildings. She forced herself forward, holding tightly onto her wounds, trying to make it to the bar. Her foot nearly gave out as she grabbed onto the door handle. Music was playing softly on the inside, and people could be heard laughing and drinking. With the very last bit of her strength, she managed to push the door open. Light flooded out immediately, and everything instantly became louder. There was a bard in the corner, playing a sweet sound on his lute. A few men were at the bar, and one was eating dinner quietly. She stepped in, staring in the direction of the bar. Keerava was handing one of the man a fresh bottle of ale, smiling brightly at the amount of people in her bar. She glanced over at the door, her face still holding a bright smile to greet any new guests. It immediately changed, her face dropped into a look of concern and panic. She nearly tripped running out from behind the bar and to the door. Catro fell to one knee, still clutching her side and clamping her teeth tightly together. Keerava skidded to a halt beside her. "Catro! Oh gods what happened to you?" She almost put her hand on her friends shoulder, suddenly noticing the deep gash there and how she was clutching her side. The conversations all halted. The drinking stopped and the bard no longer played his instrument. "Talen for god sakes come help me!" She yelled at her husband across the bar who had been nearly frozen in place. He snapped out of the dazed trance, racing over by the injured warrior. "Can you walk?" She said, crouching down beside her. "No." she choked out. "Almost didn't make it here. I used the last of my strength to open the door." She gritted her teeth in pain again as they carefully helped her up. Keerava looked her in the face, with a sudden serious tone. "Where's Arien?" she asked. The bar had become absolutely quiet at this point, no one daring to speak or to shocked to utter a word. She lowered her head, shaking it. Keerava looked over to Talen. "Hold her up, I'll go grab some rags and then we can help her upstairs." She pulled the small one off her apron to wipe Catro's face off, then suddenly she stopped. "Catro is there a wound on your head? What's all this blood from?" She put a hand over her mouth, nearly chocking. "It's not mine." She paused at that for a few minutes, then wiped her friends face off, a look of concern planted on her face. She ran over to the bar, grabbing a handful of rags and medicine. "Talen take her bags off, I'm sure she can barely stand let alone hold them." He took the two bags off each of her shoulders, slinging them over his. Catro looked up in her dazed state, staring around the bar at all the faces that looked back at her.
Then her eyes focused in the far corner of the room. Through her dizziness and dreary eyes, there was a guy staring right at her. His head was slightly tilted, and she could tell he wasn't just concerned, but curious. Suddenly they were halfway carrying her around the corner and up the stairs. They opened the doors to one of the unoccupied rooms, sitting her on the bed. "Ahhh, easy, easy." She said, half conscious but still very aware of the pain. Keerava poured some water on a rag, pressing it gently onto her shoulder. She held it in place while asking Talen for something. She tried desperately to listen, but was fading in and out of the world, her back pressed against the wall. A sudden burning brought her out of the trance. Her eyes went wide and she let out a yell of pain. They had to clean the wound out of course, but it hurt like a bitch. "Ah Shit! That hurts, oh my god OW." She grabbed a rag, biting back another yell. Keerava poured in a bit more water, relieving the burning slightly. "Alright now Catro I need you to move your hand." She hadn't realized that her hand was still clamped tightly over the wound. She let go, causing Keerava to grab her hand to assess the damage. "Not to deep on her hand, most of the blood is from her side." She wiped her friends hand off gently, repeating the process of cleaning it and then adding a bit of water. "Her shoulders dried up." Talen said, grabbing the bottle of medicine and a small, thick bandage. He took the bottle, slowly pouring the liquid into the deep cut on her shoulder. She clamped the rag, biting a scream into it. He applied the bandage to the worst part, smoothing it down. "Okay Talen wrap her hand up, I'll take care of her side." Keerava looked at the deep gash, picking up another wet rag and pressing it into her side. "This is going to hurt, a lot. Okay?" Catro nodded, knowing it was necessary. "Just do it quick" she remarked, he voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, leaning slightly to the side to allow her friend easy access. Talen finished wrapping her hand and grabbed onto her good shoulder. "You'll be okay champ." He said smiling down. She nodded back up, knowing it was going to hurt but glad her friends were there for her. Keerava dumped the alcohol onto a rag, quickly pressing it into her skin. She grabbed the covers on the bed, twisting them and screaming into the rag. Her side burned like fire, and she jerked her head back against the wall. She screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to stop and nearly blacking out. Keerava poured the cold clear water into to, providing instant relief to the burning pain. Catro stared down, watching her apply the medicine and a thick white bandage. "Thanks Talen, but I think you should go back to tending the bar, and clean up that blood in the doorway." He left swiftly, going back down the rickety stairs and into the busy bar, trying to explain what had just happened to the guests that were still in shock. Keerava gently took the rag she had been using. "Lets get this armor off and you bandaged up hmm?" She said, tugging at the chest plate. Catro tried to help her, but was almost to tired to lift her arms. She laid the tattered and bloodstained guild armor on the nightstand, picking up the cotton bandages and wrapping them around Catro's midsection with expert hands. "You know I used to work as a nurse on the frontlines, I was everyone's favorite." She laughed to herself quietly, looking down at her friend. Her eyes were closed with exhaustion, but Keerava's curiosity got the best of her. "Catro." She began gently. "What happened out there." The thoughts flooded back to her. She wanted to vomit and cry at the same time. She swallowed heavily, trying to keep her breathing under control. But someone had to know what happened, better her friend then anyone else. She took in a deep breath letting it out slowly and opening her eyes.
"We found this cave. It was kind of small, not to hard to clear out so we did. There were bandits in there, they must have been in the middle of cooking diner, so we just decided to stay there for the night." She swallowed, fighting back tears that brimmed in the corners in her eyes. "It was probably about four in the morning when something woke me up, some sound in the dark. I didn't want to move, didn't want to let them know I was awake. I remember looking over and…" She trailed off slightly, looking up at Keerava who gave her an encouraging nod, tying off the tight white bandaging around her sides. "He wasn't there. Just…gone. I grabbed my sword and got up, good thing I did. This guy just attacked me." She chocked slightly, still refusing to give into tears. "We fought for awhile, that's when he caught my side and hand. I got him good to, knocking him back, but he just backed into the darkness. I couldn't see him, and suddenly I was flung back against the wall and he came over to me. I couldn't see his face, but then he spoke and…" She could no longer hold back the tears. They streamed in long lines down her face as she tried to continue without stuttering. "Why did I trust him Keerava, what made me so blind?" Keerava gently took her hand. "Its okay Catro, you can cry, but I need to know who it was." She nodded, more tears flooding her face. "Arien." She whispered. "It was him, he wanted to kill me all along." She began crying again, hard this time. Keerava had never in her life seen her this way. She hugged her friend tightly, softly shushing her. "Hush darling, you'll wear yourself out even more. Lets get these bandages finished and you can get some sleep." She quieted her crying, nodded and allowed Keerava to wrap the cloth around her shoulder. A wave of fatigue hit her as Keerava helped her pull on her undershirt, falling into the soft bed. Keerava pulled the covers up over her friend, realizing that she was already asleep. She picked up the armor, carrying it to her room and setting it on the desk. She intended to sew the rips and clean out the blood, anything to help. She sat in the chair, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "Those two were inseparable, a real pair, best friends. I wonder what made him snap so easily." She thought to herself. Shaking her head, she stood and walked down the rickety stairs to get back to work.
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A small blue bird fluttered swiftly through the air, dodging through each tree and perching on the open window's wooden frame. It stretched its wings and began to sing a soft melody that echoed through the morning air. Catro's eyes began to flutter, then flashed open. She jolted upright in a panic, suddenly remembering where she was and dropping her guard. A dull pain gripped her shoulder and side, and then a wave of memories hit her like a strong wind. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood. Her legs, a bit wobbly at first, supported her weight, ensuring that she had rested for at least a few hours. She looked down, making sure she was dressed before she opened the door. Her dark brown undershirt was practically a tank top, with thick black straps that ran up over her shoulders. Her thick brown pants had been replaced with comfortable black silky ones. She grabbed the handle and creaked the door open. It was morning time in the bar, meaning that most of the night residents ad left and that the dining area was probably housing a very select number of people. To the right was a hallway that contained all the rooms, some doors opened and some tightly closed. A table with two chairs was just in her view, and a candle holder was burning brightly on it. Glancing the other way, she could see about two more rooms and the wooden stairs that led downstairs. She went to move, grabbing her side as a sharp pain shot through it. She pulled her shirt slightly up, seeing that bandages were wrapped all the way around, holding the wound tightly in its cloth embrace. She dropped her shirt, clasping her hand over it, slightly remembering the night before. She had been very dazed from losing all the blood, remembering about half of what had happened, and that fact that she had told Keerava what happened. The next thing she noticed was how hungry she was. The smell of food and drink wafted in from downstairs, luring her over to the old rickety boards and starting down them. She heard a few voices, and no music had begun to play yet. It was still morning, and she began to distinguish the smell of breakfast. As she got closer to the bottom, she begun to make out some of what they were saying.
"Keerava bring me some ale would you?" Someone said, there voice full of annoyance. "Don't you think its just a little to early to drink?" Keerava retaliated. She heard a bottle open and foot steps, then the quite pouring into a tanker. "When you're me, its never to early to drink." The voice say again, chuckling at his own comment. Keerava made an annoyed sound and then sighed. "I don't know about you sometimes." She said. Catro could hear the familiar squeak of her polishing a cup as she walked away. The voice laughed again, "See the thing is, I don't quite know about myself." She cleared two more stairs, smiling slightly at the strangers comment. It was wrapped in an odd truth, considering she didn't even know what to believe anymore. Clearing the last step, she grabbed onto the wall with the hand not holding her side, staring into the brightly lit bar. There were a total of three people in the area itself. Keerava was behind the bar, polishing a few cups with a small rag. One man was sitting at a table quite close to her. He was enjoying a apple and had a tired look on his face. Three apple cores litter the table in front of him. The younger man was sitting at a table close to the bar. His feet were propped up on the table and he was rocking back in his chair. One hand was behind his head and the other was hold a tanker full of ale. "So that's were the voice came from.." She thought, not noticing that Keerava had set the glass down, and was glancing up. She froze, both anger and concern burning on her face. "Catro!" She yelled. Catro looked over to her, her face still plastered with a look of confusion. Keerava threw the rag down, walking swiftly over to her. "Do you HAVE a death wish? What are you doing out of bed, you could hurt yourself!" She tried to push her back towards the stairs, witch Catro promptly refused, smacking her hand away. " Keerava I'm okay, but I could use something to eat, and maybe something stiff to drink." She rubbed her side, looking down at the area. Keerava shook her head angrily. "I'll never understand what makes you so stubborn Catro. Honestly two days ago you couldn't even walk, and now your refusing to even sit down." Her eyes widened. "Two days? Was I out for two days? Two full days?" She asked with a shocked expression glued to her face. Keerava smiled, placing a hand on her friends shoulder. "That would explain why your so thirsty then hmm? Listen, go back upstairs, I'll bring you up some food. You need to rest, Catro. More then anything at this point." Reluctantly she nodded. Keerava walked back to the bar. She was still leaning heavily on the wall, enjoying the quite of the bar, closing her eyes for a few seconds. She looked down at her hand to see the long white strips of bandages still wrapped tightly around it. She gently clenched it, testing the amount of strength left. She turned, aiming to go back upstairs, then stopped, catching the stranger near the bar looking at her again. He had the cup up to his face, covering most of it so only his eyes were visible over the rim, but she could still see that he was looking over her way. He caught her gaze, raising an eyebrow and slightly lowering his cup. Keerava appeared from what seemed like thin air, gently taking Catro's good hand and guiding her up the stairs. She let herself be led up the stairs, disappearing around the corner and loosing sight of him.
Keerava led her back to the room, smiling brightly as she helped her friend sit back on the bed. She crossed her arms. "Now what would you like to eat? What ever you want just say it." Catro smiled back at her. "At the moment, how about some soup with a side of water? I don't know if anything else will stay down." Her friend nodded, then turned to fulfill the request. She stopped suddenly, halfway out the door, spinning back around. "I suppose I should return your bags." she hauled two leather bags away from the dresser and set them down beside her legs. She winked and left, leaving the door open behind her.
Catro rested her head back on the wall. She looked up at the ceiling of the small room, closing her eyes and sighing heavily. The room was unbearably quiet, and time seemed to be passing by unbearably slow. She glanced down at the bag that seemed to glare back up at her. Struggling a bit to lean over, she snatched it off the floor, hauling it onto the bed. But it wasn't her bag. She stared at Arien's old bag, its old ruffled leather exterior seemed to be glaring back at her. Reluctantly she undid the buckle, flipping the cover back. The bag was only about half full, so she reached into it, feeling around for anything at all. Her fingers brushed something cold. She grabbed it, pulling the heavy item out to investigate it. A chunk of obsidian sat in her hand. It gleamed in the light as she recalled the many times Arien had sharpened his sword with the same stone. She looked over every mark and every spot where it had chipped, turning it carefully through her hands, then set it beside the bag. Reaching in again she pulled out a small steel dagger. She began to feel sick again, recalling when they first met and how she had given him the exact weapon. He had been so grateful, fastening it to his belt and thanking her a hundred times over. Next her hands grasped a piece of thin paper, pulling it out to see the bounty for a group of bandits they had intended to go after. She read over the words carefully, then crumpled it, tossing it at the far wall of the room. The last item she pulled out was quite unique. It was a small deer antler fashioned into a long necklace, a small present from herself to him for his birthday. She set it down, rubbing her temples for a good couple of minutes in confusion. If he had intended to kill her the entire time, why keep all these items? Why pretend to care? She snapped her head back over to stare at the items, anger suddenly burning deep in her. That happened quite often, she lost control, letting her rage take over unintentionally. It was the dragon blood that ran through her veins that caused it, and therefore there was nothing she could do to stop it. She grabbed each item, throwing them all back into the bag and buckling it shut. A few moments later Keerava walked back in. Her arms were full with a large wooden tray, and on it sat a small bowl of soup, a chunk of bread, and a tall glass of water. Upon seeing her, Catro kicked the bag to the floor and looked straight into her friends eyes. "Do me a favor and destroy that bag. Burn it, throw it in a lake, I don't care just get rid of it." Keerava stared blankly for a few minutes, then set the tray on the night stand. "Are you sure about this?" She asked, clearly still a bit shocked. Catro nodded at her. She shrugged, then grabbed the sack, turning to leave. "Very well, I'll get Talen to watch the bar." She looked over her shoulder, an expression of sternness on her face. "Don't leave that bed." She said, exiting the room again.
Catro slumped back onto the bed. She reached up behind her, grabbing the soft chuck of bread and gnawing on it. The room was cozy, but incredibly dull to her. She was never one to take it easy, or rest for a few days. As soon as she could walk she wanted to be on the road again, off on some great adventure, traveling skyrim and causing all sorts of trouble. But things were going to be so much different now. Just like the way she hated to rest, she also hated being alone. Her fears meant nothing with someone else around to share them with her. Dark, dank crypts never seemed so bad when you knew that someone had your back the whole way. Of course she could handle herself against any foe that dared lift a blade at her, but would she be able to raise her sword back at them knowing that she had to do it alone? She finished the bread in a few bites, not realizing how hungry she was until it was gone. Sitting up she pulled the bowl over, and quickly beginning to devour its contents. She wiped her mouth with the side of her good hand, setting the now empty bowl back onto the tray with a dull thud of wood hitting wood. Finishing off the water she laid back down, suddenly becoming aware of how much her body hurt. Music had begun to drift up from downstairs, along with the sweet aroma of food, signaling that lunch had begun. She heard the door open a few times, and people talking to each other. Laughter could be heard quite often, and she could tell that the small inn was begging to get busy. Glancing out into the empty hallway, she let out a long sigh. What was she supposed to do now?
Cliff hangers are fun. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, this is a very fun story to write and I hope you are enjoying it. Leave a review with some thought, suggestions, or whatever is on your mind. See you next time!