Erith hadn't been joking when she had said that the shrine of Boethiah was close to Windhelm. Leola wasn't sure how long it had been, but she suspected it was less than two hours they had been walking before they reached the steps of the shrine. They had encountered a bear on the way, and the blonde had all but shrieked when Bottar struck it down. The group had needed to stop to console Leola, who had grown up sheltered and hidden and had never truly seen the violence and grittiness of the world they lived in. Erith had hugged Leola, and the Nord had all but melted into the Breton's arms. It had been something of an awkward moment for the men, who had all turned away and twiddled their thumbs. It seemed that they also sensed the chemistry between the girls, but nobody said anything and they continued on their way as though nothing had happened.
The cultists there were all clad in furs and leathers, and they seemed confused by the appearance of the group. Whispers were exchanged, until finally, a Bosmer woman stepped forward.
"Welcome to the shrine of Boethiah, strangers," she said. Before she could open her mouth to speak, however, Erith stepped aside to reveal Leola, who had all but hidden behind her on their way up the mountain. Leola held the ebony mail in her arms, and she stepped forward.
"My mother, the Dragonborn, was Boethiah's Champion," she said in a soft voice. "We've come to return this to you and to Boethiah. We thought that you would know best what to do with it."
"Oh, child, you don't understand what this means to us and to our dark lady," said the Bosmer, outstretching her hands. Carefully, Leola passed the mail to the elf, who ran her fingers over it admiringly. "It shall be returned to our mistress Boethiah until such a time as she has chosen her new champion."
"Thank you," Leola said softly, smiling. For a Daedra worshipper, this woman seemed kind. "Do you…do you know where we might be able to contact any of the other – er – princes? We have a number of their artifacts…we wish to return them to their rightful places."
"In the morning I leave for Markarth to visit the shrine of Molag Bal," said one of the priests nearby, a laugh leaving his lips that was so dark and twisted in nature it sent chills down Leola's spine. "You would be welcome to accompany me."
"Why are you going to the shrine of Molag Bal?" asked Erith softly, though Leola felt a slight leap of joy at being able to rid herself of that accursed mace. Of the Daedra, on whom she'd been reading since she and her friends had decided to undertake this task, he and Mehrunes Dagon seemed to be the ones she most feared meeting.
"Let's just say…there's something of a rivalry between him and our mistress," answered another priestess, smiling slightly.
"I perform Boethiah's rites at his shrine…as an insult, to desecrate it. To show our lady my true dedication," continued the priest who had said he would be travelling there. A handful of the other cultists rolled their eyes at his statement, some shooting him icy glares.
"We should go," Leola said, looking towards her friends.
"I don't want to travel to the shrine of Molag Bal in the company of someone who wants to desecrate it," Aventus said in a soft voice, so that only Leola would hear. "He isn't somebody to anger, Leola, and you're the very kind of person he would seek to take it out on."
"Me?" she asked, looking at him in surprise.
"You're small," he answered. "And I hate to say this, but you're the weakest of us. He aids the strong and punishes the weak."
"I think that the trip to visit him should be made by someone other than Leola," Erith said softly, leaning in towards the two to put in her opinion. She then turned her attention back to the cultists, who were clearly waiting. "We're going to make…alternative plans to visit him. We do appreciate the offer, though – perhaps you could tell us where in Markarth to look? I'm from there and I had no idea there was a shrine to Molag Bal in the city."
"In an abandoned house right when you first come in," answered the priest with a sly smile. "You can't miss it. You don't happen to have his mace…do you?"
"We should be going," said Sond, startling Leola slightly – she had almost forgotten that he and Bottar were there. She was impressed that people as loud and boisterous as he and his friend had been that morning could silence themselves right up when it came to serious matters.
"If you were willing to give us the mace, we'd make it worth your while," said the Bosmer priestess to Leola. Aventus moved protectively in front of her.
"We won't give you the mace any more than we would have given him your mail," he said, nodding towards the mass of ebony armour in the woman's arms. "We just want to get the items back to their proper places so that we don't have to become involved any further than we already are."
"We want that mace," said another priestess, an Imperial woman with beady, dark eyes. Leola shied her eyes away; ever since the previous night when that stranger had come bursting in claiming to be her father, she couldn't stand even the idea of Imperials. They were greedy, selfish, and far too proud. Of course, Nords were also proud, but it was a simpler kind of pride, at least to Leola.
"Well, you're not getting it," answered Aventus. "I'd suggest you let us leave peacefully."
"Would you, now?" asked one of the priests, stepping forward as another priestess drew a dagger from within her robes. Leola's breath caught as she recognized the dagger – there was an identical one in a case back in Hjerim.
As Leola's gaze shifted towards Erith, she saw a faint orange glow arising in her friend's hands. She had never seen magic used before, but she knew that Erith, as a Breton, was skilled in it. Perhaps she was about to see it for the first time – she hoped not, though.
Sond moved forward. At some point, it seemed he had taken the greatsword from his back and he now gripped it firmly with both hands. There was a faint blue glow to it that Leola hadn't noticed before – perhaps some sort of enchantment to enhance its abilities.
One of the priests suddenly came forward, dagger in hand, and Leola immediately ducked away. She heard a strange noise, almost like a quiet explosion, and she looked up quickly at Erith. A burst of flames erupted from her palms as she pointed them at the priest, who immediately jumped back.
"Stop!" exclaimed a female voice as another cultist came hurrying down the steps that, presumably, led to their altar. "Our lady wouldn't want this – not now, not like this!" The flames that erupted from Erith died down as the group waited to see what would come of this new development.
One of the male priests, a Dunmer, shifted his glowing eyes towards the priestess who came hurrying downwards. "I am alive because that one is dead," he growled. It sounded foreign to Leola, but it seemed to hold some meaning to the cultists.
"The day is wrong, the place is wrong! The purpose is wrong! Another time, brother, another time." Leola didn't know what the priestess was talking about, but anything to stay out of a fight sounded good to her.
"Very well," muttered the Dunmer, and the Bosmer woman who had taken the mail smiled at the group, albeit through gritted teeth.
"You are free to leave," she said. "We shall bring you no harm. If our paths cross again, you mustn't expect such mercy."
Aventus pressed a hand against Leola's back, turning her around and beginning down the path that would lead back down the mountain. She heard the clunking of armour as Sond and Bottar followed, and a glance over her shoulder saw Erith tentatively walking backwards. She remained facing the cultists, that same magical glow emanating from her hands.
"That was scary," Leola said in a soft voice after they had walked several paces. Erith had caught up to them, but she held on to Leola's elbow for guidance so that she could keep her head turned and her brown eyes on the cultists.
"Sooner or later, Leola, it's going to end in a fight," said Aventus softly. "Maybe not now, or not soon, but it will."
"Well, let's hope I can take care of myself by then," Leola replied softly.
"Are you thinking of learning?" asked Bottar, and Leola nodded slightly. She had hoped to keep it as a surprise, but this close call had her unsure whether that was the right decision.
"I'd like to. Ulfric gave me a dagger the other night – before he told me about being my father…he said that he was to give it to his own son, but I'm the closest thing he has I suppose," she replied softly.
"Learn to fight with something more than a dagger, believe me," said Aventus with a soft laugh. "A dagger is a good thing for a child to practice swordfighting, or for an assassin who plans on killing their target before the target knows that they're there…but in a full-on combat situation like that would have become, you want something bigger."
"We'll find you something perfect, Leola," said Sond, running a hand through his blond hair as he positioned the large sword on his back again. "And I know we'll all help you."
"Maybe Erith can even teach you some spells," said Bottar with a cheeky grin, and Erith shook her head.
"I don't want Leola relying on something as difficult as magic," she said softly. "A sword and shield are in her blood, and magic is in mine."
It wasn't a long walk back to the city, and the group all chatted. Leola was clearly shaken by how frightening their encounter with the cultists had been, and the others were trying their hardest to lighten the mood. As they crossed the bridge into Windhelm, they saw the guards talking with a Nord man who quickly turned to face them.
"Are any of you Aventus Aretino?" asked the man, and Aventus gave a nod.
"I am," he replied.
"Thank goodness," he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded letter. "They said this was urgent," he continued as he held it out to the assassin.
Aventus took the letter, turning slightly as he opened it so that the others could not look over and read it. The courier gave them a courteous nod before heading through the gates, and the others waited patiently as he read his letter. It only took a few long moments, but as they watched, his face paled.
"By Sithis," Aventus muttered, shaking his head. He shoved the letter in his pocket, looking at the others. "I need to go."
"Where?" asked Leola quickly.
"Back to Dawnstar. I don't know how long I'll be. Don't wait for me if you get the chance to get rid of any more of those artifacts – the sooner they're gone, the better," he said, and before any of them could reply, he began down the bridge, back the way they had come.
"Aventus!" Leola called in almost a pleading voice, but Erith put a gentle hand on the blonde's shoulder.
"It's not us, it's business," she said softly. "He probably has a contract or something – Leola, he is an assassin. He kills people for a living."
Leola hung her head, nodding slightly. "I know," she mumbled disappointedly, turning back towards the gates. "Let's go."