"The cat seems to have gone into the town," A golden-skinned, armor-clad elf said as he handed the woman before him a piece of fine cloth.
The woman was dressed in black and gold robes and had a rounded face and a glare that pierced through the soldier's soul.
"Madam Eleria, there are no signs of the mercenaries High Justiciar Isael hired. Though there seems to have been a fight near the far edge, and there's a decent amount of blood, I don't think much of it is from the girl."
Eleria chuckled, examining the cloth.
The mercenaries were dead—that much she knew.
Isaels' pet knows how to fight—either that or some poor soul intervened.
"What about the charred remains? Any word?"
"A house fire," the soldier replied. "No deaths, but the Nord who lived there is gone. Some of the civilians say that he had a strange Khajiit companion with him."
"The cat," Eleria sneered as she looked down on the town. "Did anyone say where they went?"
"The Blacksmith mentioned something about them going to Dawnstar."
"Then we'd better get moving, we'll stop by Whiterun for supplies, then head out," she said, looking to the morning sun. "I need you to hire another set of mercenaries, make sure they're well paid, and make sure they know how to fight."
"Yes ma'am," the soldier nodded.
"The rest of you," Eleria spoke, turning to the rest of her escort. "When we get to Whiterun, search for them. If they left last night, they'll probably get supplies in the city," the High-Elf ordered. The soldiers nodded, and soon, they left for Whiterun.
"I need a few things," Erik said as he looked through Belethor's shop, setting his helmet down on the counter. "Two tents, one leather, one fur; two sleeping bags; two waterskins; a second backpack; and an axe."
"Going on a journey?" the Breton asked, smiling. "Tell you what, how much gold do you have?"
"Five-hundred pieces."
"I'll give you the supplies for two hundred."
"That must be a big discount—what's the catch?" the Nord asked.
"No catch, I can see a man in need when I see one. Besides, I've been having a good week. May I ask where you're headed?"
"Up North, my companion and I are going to Dawnstar," Erik said.
Belethor raised an eyebrow.
"Dawnstar, huh?" the Breton asked as Erik gave him the money Belethor asked for. "Alright, stay right here and I'll get your stuff."
"Erik—" The Nord heard M'rissi's voice behind him. "We need to leave, now."
"What's wrong, M'rissi?" he asked in a whisper.
"Thalmor," she replied in a hushed tone. "M'rissi saw them at the front gate, she does not think they saw her."
"Shit—if they're here, they must have been through Riverwood, which means they may be heading to Dawnstar."
"What does that mean?"
"It means they'll be stopping by here," Erik sighed, looking back to Belethor, who was still gathering the supplies. "They'll probably get here before we can leave. Do you trust me?"
"She trusts you…"
"Then follow my lead, and we'll walk out of here," he told her, holding her hand and bringing her to a shelf of armor and weapons.
Moments passed like hours.
You sure are taking your sweet time, Belethor.
Then the sound that made Erik's blood freeze. The soft creak of the front door opening.
"Breton," the voice of a high elf woman called out. "I need supplies. Food and water."
Beside him, M'rissi froze and Erik could see her shake out of the corner of his eye.
"Calm down," Erik whispered as Belethor spoke up and struck up a conversation with the elf. Then, his eyes locked onto an amulet of Mara, and next to it, a ring with a face of blue opal. "We're a couple looking for a ring for our wedding. Try not to sound like yourself."
M'rissi nodded as Erik bent down and picked the ring and amulet up.
"How does this one look, my love?" Erik asked as he presented them to M'rissi.
"I think it looks amazing, dear," M'rissi replied in a deeper tone than usual. "It's perfect!" She grinned and leaned into Erik.
Before he could react, Erik felt M'rissi's soft lips locked with his and her warm arms wrapped around his neck.
Erik returned the kiss, cupping her cheeks and leaning into it.
Soon, the soft creak of the door sounded throughout the shop, and Erik glanced over to see that the shop was clear. As he pulled away from M'rissi, he smiled.
"Nice touch with the kiss," Erik whispered, and M'rissi's cheeks turned red with blush.
"It is not the first time M'rissi has had to avoid capture," she said, smiling. "The ring—it is nice. M'rissi would like to keep it."
"Alright," Erik nodded and brought the ring over to the counter, where Belethor stood with everything Erik had asked for. "How much for this ring?"
"Fifty gold," Belethor replied. Erik nodded and produced the money before collecting his goods. "Thanks for the business, please, do come back."
Erik nodded and loaded the supplies before he and M'rissi left.
As they left the shop, they caught sight of the Thalmor soldiers as they left.
"Who was the lady?" Erik asked.
"Her name is Eleria," M'rissi spoke up, slipping the ring onto her finger. "She is Isael's right hand. She is as cunning as Isael, and twice as powerful. If she recognized me—we won't know until she tries to capture me."
"Then we need to be extra careful," Erik replied as they started towards the city gate. "Wait until they leave the city, we'll trail behind them and go our separate ways once we need to start heading East."
"M'rissi will follow your lead," the Khajiit replied, sneaking her hand into Erik's.
Erik looked over, surprised. He smiled and handed M'rissi her bag, which had a fur tent and a sleeping bag tied to the top and bottom of it.
She returned his smile, taking the bag and slinging it over her shoulder.
As they followed the group of elves, Erik could feel a knot in the pit of his stomach. As they followed the road, it grew and grew, until the elves diverged to the North.
Suddenly, the anxiety melted away, and Erik let out a sigh of relief as he and M'rissi continued East.
Erik took out a crude map of Skyrim from his bag as they continued on their path.
"Once we get past Fort Amol, the Thalmor will have a hard time finding us," he said, pointing to a fork in their path far ahead of them.
M'rissi nodded, glancing at the map before Erik rolled it up and put it in his pack.
As they continued their journey, and the sun began to sink behind the mountains of Skyrim, Erik's feet began to ache, his legs started to burn. For all his work—this was the longest he'd ever traveled.
"Let's stop," he said, sighing and turning off the road into the tree-line to find a place for their camp.
When they finished setting up the small leather tent, M'rissi sat inside while Erik took his armor off and set it aside.
"Gods, that armor is heavier than it looks," Erik said as he sat inside the tent, next to his Khajiit companion. "Everything all right?" he asked, noticing that M'rissi had her knees to her chest.
She shook her head, staring off into the forest, towards the road.
"M'rissi does not know if she can sleep."
"Because of Eleria?"
M'rissi nodded.
"Right—I won't lie, knowing the Thalmor were that close to us—too close."
"She agrees, but M'rissi does not know if she would have walked from that city if it weren't for you."
Erik sighed, laying down beside his companion.
His thoughts drifted back to his home. The small cabin that he burned down—the haven of peace that felt separated from the rest of the world. The haven that he left in ash.
"Do you regret it?" M'rissi asked, almost as if she knew what he was thinking. "Leaving your home to travel with her, she means. Or—even saving her…"
Erik had to think about her question.
Adventure was something he'd always wanted. He'd always wished for something more—even though he pretended he just wanted peace.
This war had just given him the perfect excuse to leave and start the life he'd always dreamed—but this was different. This wasn't his choice, he wasn't out here for gold or fame. He was running for his life.
But, despite this, despite the danger he was in, could he bring himself to regret what he did?
"No," Erik answered after a long pause of silence. "I'll never regret saving you from those men. I might regret burning down the home that I'd built with my own hands—but I'll never regret saving you."
"She—is glad to hear that," M'rissi replied, but despite her words, Erik could still see her retreat deeper into her thoughts.
"Why don't you rest? I'm sure you're tired."
"She cannot sleep," M'rissi replied.
"M'rissi, Eleria and her soldiers went north. We would have noticed if they turned back—we even watched them from the Ritual Stone. There's no way they could follow us from the path they took without them doubling back and coming this way."
"How long until they realize they were lied to?"
"If they're heading to Dawnstar, a week, maybe two if the weather is bad up there," Erik replied. "Plenty of time for us to get to Ivarstead."
There was a pause as M'rissi shifted to face Erik.
"She thinks—we should not stay in that little town for long. It is best if we do not stop moving until we can go to Morrowind."
"You probably have a point." Erik sat up and sighed. "We could take the cross after a few days of rest, get more supplies. We'd have to cross through Helgen, but after that, all of Skyrim is open to us—we just have to be careful and avoid any Thalmor patrols."
"M'rissi thinks that would be best. If we stay in one place too often—it will be easier for the pointed ears to find us. When will we be able to go to Morrowind?"
"I'm not sure. If we want safe passage, we'll have to find someone who knows the mountains that make up the border, which means we'll need money…" Erik sighed, shifting and sitting next to M'rissi. "Look, we'll get there, alright? I know you're worried, but Skyrim is a big place. Come on—you need to sleep."
M'rissi sighed, nodding as they retreated into the tent and crawled into her bedroll.