Author's Note: I've been working on these next few chapters for a while. Transition chapters are harder to do, but I pour my heart and soul into all of my writing for the best results! Please read and review! I cherish your (mature and respectful) opinions!
Chapter Three: Leaving Morrowind
Decima, who was overrun with excitement at the time, looked around for a departing ship. But only one seemed to be ready to sail. Trying not to attract attention she casually walked over to the ship. From the looks of it, this ship was for cargo only. But it was worth a try looking to get a ride. In order not to get caught, Decima hid between two close buildings until one of the ship's sailors arrived. It was still dark, but the light of day was soon to come. She approached him while he was still looking away from her.
Attempting to look lady like, she tapped him on the back and put on a sweet little voice. "Excuse me? Sir?" Decima asked. The Imperial sailor lifted one eyebrow at her, but his expression was friendly.
"Yes, ma'am?" He replied. She gulped, choosing her words carefully.
"Where is this ship headed to?"
"River Bridge. You need to get somewhere?" A spark of curiosity was in the man's voice. Decima pondered for a few moments as she mapped out Morrowind in her head. River Bridge was out of Vvardenfell, and far enough away from Ebonheart that it would be difficult for anyone to find her. From what she knew of it, River Bridge was a town located inland on a river that ran into the Inner Sea.
"Well, yes. If it isn't too much trouble, could I come with the ship to River Bridge? I need to get to Cyrodiil." Inside, she was kicking herself. She probably just had blown her cover telling him that! What if he's questioned by the guards?
"Aye, of course! But it'll come at a cost, my lady. Fourty septims." He replied. To her surprise, he was not suspicious at all about her in the end, as she once feared.
"What about twenty-five?" She replied.
"Thirty-Five." He implied.
"Thirty."
"It's a deal." The sailor said.
"When does the ship depart?" Decima replied anxiously.
"In about three hours. We have to leave early to complete our trips in a timely manner." The young sailor with sandy hair led her up onto the boat.
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The voyage to River Bridge lasted three days. It was not the most luxurious trip in the world, but it was bearable. Decima was amazed at the vastness of the sea; for it was a shame that she had been hidden away from the beautiful world that she lived in for so many years. As soon as the ship reached the river, travel was much slower, but she enjoyed viewing the landscape on the riverbank. It was so foreign to her. Her curiosity sparkled upon gazing at the little farms or strange and twisted landscapes dotted along the riverbank. Lurio, the sailor Decima met in Ebonheart, gave her a map of his homeland of Cyrodiil. She studied the map and planned out a route to the Imperial City. When the ship arrived in River Bridge, she had to bid farewell to her new friend.
Decima began to hand the map of Cyrodiil back to Lurio just before she was about to leave the ship, but Lurio wasn't attached to the piece of parchment.
"Keep the map. You need it more than me." He said, pushing the map back towards her. He continued, "How are you planning to get to Cyrodiil?"
"I'll travel along with a caravan to Kragenmoor, then perhaps another through Cyrodiil to get to the Imperial City." She said with a tone of nervousness that rang though her voice as the opportunity for failure still rang though her head. For the vast majority of her trip to River Bridge, Decima was thinking up ways to get out of Morrowind. Walking along the roads was out of the question. She didn't have any idea as to what the roads here were like. And it's not like she had ever been in the wilderness before, so there wasn't a good chance of her being able to fend for herself. In truth, Decima was naïve to how hard it is outside the castle. Ironically, she knew this well, and didn't intend to let that get her into more trouble.
"Aye, you're a smart girl. I know you'll be fine." Lurio assured her. A blushing heat rushed to her cheeks at his words. She'd never have heard those words spoken to her before. Perhaps her new world wasn't filled with as much prestige as there was in the castle?
She left Lurio to look for a caravan to take her to Kragenmoor. River Bridge was nice sized town; small enough to navigate, yet large enough to draw crowds to make everything confusing. Decima looked around the town's center. Many glared or gave her confused looks as she wandered around searching for a caravan westbound. Those she approached weren't hospitable towards the prospect of letting a stranger join them in their travels. After an hour of wandering, she spotted a group of three Imperials heading towards the road going west; towards Kragenmoor. Decima sprinted towards the group.
The woman gave a hostile scowl and asked, "What do you want, girl?"
"Forgive me. But I was curious as to where you are going?" Decima said in a delicate tone. A younger Imperial man cut in and replied, "We are headed to Cheydinhal."
"Well, I need to get to Cyrodiil. May I join you all? I can pay you, and take care of your things. And I'll keep up and be quiet! I promise!" Her voice was desperate. Still, the older woman didn't look convinced despite Decima's pleas.
The woman began to speak, "I don't-"
"You may come with us." An older man cut in. He seemed to be the one in charge, since no one argued. Despite his aging appearance, his stance had a demand for respect. The wrinkles around his eyes showed wisdom and a kind heart. But the way he stood and held himself up was intimidating. The man continued, "But you must abide by your word. No money is necessary, but you must take care of our equipment and horses." The woman frowned at his words as she tightened her hands into fists.
"Agreed." Decima said, looking at the man in his eyes.
"Young lady, what is your name?" The man asked.
"Decima, Sir." She replied. Perhaps she was far enough away from those who may be searching for her to tell her name?
"Welcome, Decima. My name is Ilav. The young man you see here is Martin," he said, pointing to the young brunette man. "And this is Lenka." The woman still scowled at Decima with an annoyed expression, rather than hostile this time. Lenka tied up her fading brown hair into a ponytail and snapped her head away from Decima.
River Bridge was soon fading away behind her, and the wilderness surrounded the four travelers. The trip to Kragenmoor was long; especially since the horses were for equipment only; not riders. Decima loathed her chores, but she didn't complain. The unintended friction between Lenka and Decima would had made the trip awkward for the bewildered half-Dunmer. She felt as if everything Decima said was another thorn in Lenka's side. When they set up camp, Martin would teach her all about Cyrodiil; the laws, the history, and the politics. Martin, at first, was astonished at the fact that she knew nothing about Tamriel's capital or government. But Decima was an eager learner, and took in everything Martin taught her. Decima soon learned that, unlike her, Martin had aspirations for his future.
"Magic." He said. "I plan on joining the Mage's Guild, then moving on to the Arcane University."
"Do you know any magic already?" Decima asked. The term "magic" was rather obscure to her. She had never seen a mage in action, or had seen anyone healed by restoration spells. And yet, it sounded so marvelous to her! It was as if someone had taken the world of magic and hid it from her behind curtains that only allowed her to see the faint silhouettes of a magicka-fueled world.
"Only a few spells." Martin said, showing off the light now hovering over his fingers, illuminating his pale face and brunette hair; his blue eyes gleaming in the golden light. She stared into his eyes, mystified by his abilities. "It's not much; but in time my skills will have improved." He said as he extinguished the light. "Perhaps when we get to Cheydinhal, I'll teach you some useful restoration and illusion spells."
"What and what spells?" Decima jokingly replied. They both laughed as the campfire crackled and danced next to them. "Teach me." She said. "Anything. I lust to know." Martin nodded and motioned for her to raise her hands in front of her as he did.
"Don't focus on visuals with your eyes. Feel light run through your body and out your hands. It's simple." She did as she was told, but only a faint light the size of a firefly showed up then flickered out. Over and over she tried to bring about a luminous light above her fingertips. "The magicka! Feel what lightness of magicka running through you! Try and find something more than light flowing through you. Something deeper." She took in a deep breath and pushed the magical light through her body, and a brilliant ball of light hovered above her hands. Decima's eyes gazed upon her creation before she let it die out.
In time, Martin proved to be a trustworthy person. And now, more than ever, Decima needed someone to rely on. And so, she told him her story about how her mother left her to a cruel life Ebonheart; but she didn't include the details about her embarrassing herself in front of the Emperor in fear that he wouldn't believe her.
"Promise not to tell?" Decima pleaded.
"I Promise."Martin replied with a warm smile. "But why do you need to keep this a secret?" He asked, now with a perplexed look in his eyes.
"Well, the duke didn't just let me go. I ran away. And I fear that someone may have been sent to go looking for me." She said. Martin had a very surprised look on his face. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
"No, not really. But I never would have pictured you as an escapee from Ebonheart." He replied. Decima giggled.
"I still can't believe I managed to do it." She said. A sense of pride and accomplishment swept over her blushing cheeks.
"Well, I wouldn't worry. We are far from Vvardenfell." Martin said, lifting Decima's spirits.
Upon reaching Kragenmoor, a violent storm had already caused a burden upon the travelers. All four of them were glad to be in the cramped room that they rented in Kragenmoor. Decima could hear the mixed sounds of the loud storm and visitors chatting in the inn's tavern. The voices from the tavern were unlike the voices of the patrons at the inn her mother worked at. Everyone seemed much more contained, unlike the drunken mix of Nords and Dunmer back home. Home… Bah!
It became hard to sleep that night, but she was glad to be under a new roof. Decima was anxious to cross the border the next day; especially when she still was totally ignorant as to where she was exactly, despite her efforts in studying the geography of her new home. She finally let sleep take over her mind as the winds outside and the guests downstairs quieted down, and Decima soon drifted away in her dreams of what was to come.
The day they left Kragenmoor the storm had cleared up, but the roads were muddy and it was difficult to travel through. They trudged through the mud relentlessly. But even the bitter cold couldn't extinguish Decima's curiosity. "Ilav? How will we know when we've crossed over into Cyrodiil?" Lenka rolled her eyes at the question.
"Ah, excited are you? Well, we will be crossing over the Valus Mountains in no time, dear. That is when we will have entered Cyrodiil." Ilav explained in an eager tone. Content with his answer, Decima looked over towards Martin, who, to her surprise, was already looking her way with much interest. Immediately, she looked away from him, and up the road, towards Cyrodiil.