15

I stood alone, feeling numb. Bitterly cold wind from the south stung my face as I stood out on the road in front of the fort, my arms crossed over my chest. My hair flapped behind me, blown by the wind. The sky above was pitch black, the thick smoke from the fire obscuring the stars.

I heard footsteps coming up behind me. And then a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"You should get some rest," Reinhardt said. "There's nothing more we can do tonight."

"How are the others?" I asked quietly.

"We lost two. I could only do so much."

"How is Gaea?"

"Physically?" Reinhardt shrugged. "She's okay. Emotionally, I'm not so sure. What about you?"

I took a deep breath and exhaled, watching my breath steam away and dissipate into the night air. I turned slightly to glance back at the charred fort entrance, my eyes narrowing. I could almost not feel the cold anymore, as if my body had adapted to it. There was a hardness there, like the remains of some long-dead emotion I could not identify. I didn't know whether to be sad or angry. Or maybe I should have secretly been happy.

They were not my people. I barely knew most of them, with the exceptions of Liman and the other kitchen workers. Truthfully, I could have cared less about most of the guards there, except for Gaea. In the back of my mind, I still believed that the Imperial Legion was not my friend, but my enemy. Part of me refused to feel grief or shed tears for a bunch of clueless Imperial soldiers encroaching on Nord land.

But I could recognize needless butchery when I saw it. The attack on the fort had not been in response to Imperial aggression, since the guards there had done little more than complain and shirk their duties since I had arrived. Even from my point of view, there had been no reason to attack the fort. It was nothing more than deliberate cruelty and antagonism, and it made no sense. And even if killing the soldiers could be justified, there was no reason to kill non-military personnel like Tomas and Grilda, who had been a Nord herself. And many of the Cult members had died as well, including the pompous Antonius Nuncius, and I didn't even like him, but he didn't deserve to die like that. None of them did.

The attack was nothing more than violence and murder for no reason, and would only lead to a stronger, more militaristic Imperial presence on Solstheim in the long run.

I realized I had not responded to Reinhardt. "I don't know yet," I said quietly.

"Gaea told me that you and Captain Carius were becoming close."

"Yes," I said simply.

"I'm sorry, then. Carius was a good man."

I turned toward Reinhardt, feeling my hands clench into fists. I studied him for a moment, wondering vaguely how much I could actually trust him. He said nothing, letting me look into his clear blue eyes for any trace of guilt, of which I found none.

"Who did this?" I asked.

"You heard Liman. He said it was Nords dressed up in wolf skins."

"Who are they?" I demanded, raising my voice, stepping closer to him.

Reinhardt kept his face neutral, but I was not fooled. He licked his lips, awkwardly stalling for time, and looked past me out toward the sea. "Why are you so interested?" he asked me calmly. "Are you planning on getting revenge?"

"If you think you know anything about me, then you shouldn't even have to ask," I said darkly, baring my teeth. "Revenge is something I'm very good at."

Reinhardt nodded silently. Finally, he said, "I don't know very much about them. I've just heard the same rumors that you have. That they're a splinter cult of Nord berserkers who worship werewolves."

"But you don't believe that."

"I've lived on this island for some time," Reinhardt said. "And this group came out of nowhere. If they are Nords, then they must have come directly from Skyrim, because they are not from any of the villages on Solstheim."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes, I'm certain. How many men do you think it must have taken to defeat all these soldiers? Thirty or forty men at least? If that many Nords had abandoned their villages to join this werewolf cult, I certainly would have heard of it."

"Okay," I said. "What's the closest Nord village from here?"

"Thirsk, I guess. Half a day from here."

"You have to take me there."

"Why?"

"Because we need help," I said. "And I have to see it for myself. I need to know that the Nords were not involved in this."

"I guess that makes sense," Reinhardt said. "I can take you there tomorrow morning."

"We should leave right now."

"Even I'm not foolish enough to travel through the woods in the middle of the night," Reinhardt advised. "You'll find things a lot more dangerous than berserkers. Besides, I think both of us need to get some sleep."

He waited a few moments, and then, sensing that our conversation had come to a close, bid me good night and walked away. I stayed outside by myself for some time longer, staring out into the wilderness, letting my anger and frustration slowly fade away. The cold seeped into my bones, strengthening them, empowering me, like some kind of ice ward spell.

I wondered if maybe I should have left on the supply ship after all. I could have been long gone by now, and not gotten involved in any of this.

But something sinister was happening on Solstheim. And now that I was stuck right in the middle of all this chaos, I was not going anywhere until I reached the bottom of it. Although my motivations were blurry, even to me. Was I taking a side in this? What was I trying to accomplish? Was I looking out for the interests of the Nords on Solstheim, or was I just trying to get revenge after all?

I would figure it out later. Motivations aside, my goals were the same. Figure out who had attacked the fort, and then kill them.