"I'm sorry."
Aeyrin read out loud, clutching the letter in her hand. It was the only thing they found there when they had finally left that field. Erandur was gone. There was nothing but that small note on the ground, right in the middle of the hall and hard to miss.
"I'm sure you must know the truth by now," she continued. "I ran from the miasma, brought up the barrier and then I made the potion for myself. But I couldn't get through. Despite my magic, I couldn't face the invasion when it happened and I couldn't face it when it lingered in the miasma. So I left. Even stuck there, outside Dreamstride, my brothers were with our Dark Lady in spirit and body. That is our purpose. And one day, a champion of Vaermina would return for the Skull when the time came. I came back to Dawnstar on a whim and only then I learned about the effects on the town. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to hurt anyone. I had to make things right again, so I asked for help."
Bishop's scowl only kept deepening as she read on.
"I know you will help make things right. But you have seen how dangerous the Skull can be. I implore you, do not keep it. It can be dangerous for the wielder as well. Leave it there in the empty fort, where it can't hurt anyone anymore. It will be a fitting grave for it. And thank you. I know you will not fail."
Aeyrin lowered her hand down, signaling that she was done with the letter. Her expression was rather blank though. She didn't look too impressed by Erandur's apology letter.
"So, let me get this straight," Bishop snarled, shifting a little with the menacing staff fastened on his back. At least that one was 'here and there' too, so he could actually pin it to his equipment. "He didn't want to tell the guard or the Vigilants, because obviously they would arrest or kill him for this shit. Too many fucking people my ass! They would just not leave him here waiting alone so that he could escape like he did escape us," he scoffed. So fucking typical. "And now he wants us to just… 'leave the Skull'. Because yeah, I'm sure he's not gonna try to come back to get his fucking overlord's artifact. How fucking stupid does he think we are?"
Aeyrin nodded as she stepped closer to him, looking at the Skull all the while intently. It did look quite terrifying. And very creepy. Its jaw was closed shut, but she had no doubt that whenever it opened again, it would mean nothing good for anyone. And she was still a little wary of Bishop constantly having that thing touch him. He was probably right and it was probably irrational, but she couldn't help it.
"Thank the Eight that the Vigilants are just behind the passes. I wouldn't really want you to march through the town with that on your back," Aeyrin sighed. Sure, mostly people didn't really pay any attention to anyone's weapons, but this one just screamed 'evil'. "They'll know how to keep it safe. And they'll know whether it's a good idea to even… tell anyone what happened here."
"You don't wanna tell people? But we might get paid!" Bishop raised his brows. They could get something out of this ordeal at least. The Jarl was sure to be grateful.
"I know, but… I don't know," she shook her head. "This temple is still here. With all the… lore and the altar and… I don't even know. Word will spread and people will get curious."
"They might torch the place," Bishop scoffed. Nords would definitely torch the place.
"Some might use it. Erandur might be back. I just think… the Vigilants will know best. They have the numbers to explore and keep this place safe from everyone."
"You trust those fucking paladins too much," Bishop scowled. "You think they're impervious to temptation? I think we've seen enough evidence of the opposite, doesn't matter what fucking order they're in."
Aeyrin only shrugged. He wasn't wrong, but the Vigilants were still a much more reliable option than the denizens of the town.
"Whatever you want, princess," Bishop smirked at her lack of response. It wasn't as if he really cared. He just wanted to get some fucking sleep at the inn. Some good sleep.
And he also kinda hoped that the Vigilants would stand guard here whenever Erandur came back for his fucking Skull.
Aeyrin took one last wary look at the Skull behind his back. She was really eager to be rid of that thing. And of this whole ordeal. She was just glad that there wasn't an actual Daedric Prince in there.
"Let's go," she smiled weakly. "I just wanna get out of this place."
…
"It's you."
A large Nord in a familiar black and gold armor scowled at their approach. They made it to the Hall of the Vigilant quite soon, with that Skull still on Bishop's back. The man's eyes instantly went towards the artifact.
"The fuck is…" he shook his head as he studied the staff. "Hmpf. I'll get brother Vuaerion."
Strange, the paladin didn't look too happy to see them there. Aeyrin and Bishop thought that the Vigilants would be generally more impressed about them carrying a Daedric artifact. The man had clearly recognized it. Or at least recognized that it was something dangerous.
And they were still not invited in, despite Vuaerion's good word the last time they visited.
The Nord paladin left them alone outside the fort, waiting in the deep, fresh snow. Fortunately though, they weren't left waiting for long. A familiar face opened the door soon, but Vuaerion didn't invite them inside either.
Instead, he hobbled down the few steps to join them outside. He clearly had a wounded leg and he didn't even have his armor on. He was dressed in sturdy silk clothes, clearly expensive, but they were not as opulent and gaudy as those that the paladins in Solitude tended to wear.
"Well…" Vuaerion's eyes landed on the Skull instantly, much like anyone's would. "This is… unexpected. Is that the Skull of Corruption?"
"It is," Aeyrin nodded at him with a gentle smile. "You're wounded? What happened?" He looked like he could use some healing… wait…
"How are you wounded in a building full of fucking paladins?" Bishop looked at him in surprise, voicing Aeyrin's realization before she could even put two and two together. Everyone inside was likely a much more capable healer than she was. And so was surely Vuaerion himself.
"Apologies," the Altmer chuckled weakly. "I got too intrigued by that thing on your back, I forgot my manners. It is good to see you two again. And there's no need to worry about my injuries."
"But how are you even injured?" Bishop still shook his head incredulously. He couldn't imagine anything that a powerful healer couldn't take care of, save for chopped off parts and death. But neither of those was clearly the case.
Vuaerion only let out a resigned sigh. He really didn't look like he wanted to speak about it, but he did explain himself anyway.
"It is a sort of… penance within our Order. I have failed as a leader and a mentor and I am deprived of healing for some time. Even my own."
Aeyrin gave him a horrified look. That sounded like quite a barbaric practice. Paladins should know how important it was not to let injuries go unattended for too long. She couldn't help but wonder what could possibly warrant something like this.
"How did you fail?" she asked quietly. She wasn't even sure why she was keeping her voice down. There was nobody outside with them. And why were they still outside?
"I…" Vuaerion gave her a very pained expression. He really looked like he didn't want to speak about it and she instantly felt bad for asking. Yet, Vuaerion looked like he was forcing himself to tell her anyway. "One of my charges refused to kill a werebear."
"'Werebear'?" Bishop interrupted him with a disturbed look on his face. There were 'werebears'? Like werewolves but bears? He had never heard of those.
"Werebear," Vuaerion nodded with a serious expression on his face. "My charge refused to kill it because… because she knew it before it became… that. It was my responsibility to teach her the importance of letting those attachments go."
"That… can't be easy, even if…" Aeyrin scowled. She tried to imagine what she would do in that situation, if someone she knew became such a creature. What if Bishop did? She would never be able to bring herself to kill them. But her pondering was soon interrupted as Vuaerion raised his hand to halt her.
"Our calling isn't easy, sister," he shook his head mournfully. "We must always remember that those monsters are not people anymore, not the ones we knew."
Bishop only frowned at this. He made it sound so fucking easy. Stendarrites could be so single-minded, always focused on just killing and smiting anything they thought to be 'unnatural', it was disturbing.
"But we should really speak of the Skull," Vuaerion quickly got back to the matter at hand when he saw their conflicted expressions.
"Do we have to do it out here? It's quite a tale," Aeyrin gave him a wry smile. She could really do with getting out of the cold.
"Ah… I don't think it's a good idea for you to come inside," the Altmer sighed with an uncertain expression on his face. It sounded like things in the Vigil weren't exactly going well. He looked so conflicted about everything.
"What's happening inside?" Aeyrin prodded uncertainly. She felt kind of bad that he had felt obligated to tell them about his injury, for whatever reason. She didn't wanna make him more uncomfortable by prying further, but this was odd.
"Nothing," he scowled. "It's you," he gave them both a meaningful look. "We… explored the house in Markarth. And the Jarl told us your version of the events. But… a lot of our members don't believe that any of us would be weak enough to let themselves be swayed by a Daedra."
"A Daedric Prince," Bishop scowled at him. "You think your guy was killed, why? Just for the fun of it? That we had nothing better to do than to kill some helpless sap trapped in a basement?"
"No," Vuaerion shook his head promptly. "Some think that it was you who got swayed by Bal and acted on his command, killing our brother."
"You think your people are so fucking infallible?" Bishop scoffed at him angrily. He really didn't think they would have to take the blame for that shit in Markarth. Hadn't they been through enough there? Hadn't they been through enough with all Daedra in general? Especially today. "It was a Daedric Prince. It kept him there for Gods-fucking-know how long, trying to mindfuck him. What, you really think praying to Stendarr or some shit saved his ass from cracking?"
"No," Vuaerion's voice sounded resigned all of a sudden. "I don't. Many of our brothers and sisters never saw the true powers of the Princes. We can teach them, we can lecture them, but nobody really believes how easy it is to waver when facing them. I know this. And so does Keeper Carcette, our leader. Which is why you are not currently being persecuted by the Vigil. But that doesn't mean you'd get a warm welcome from our charges."
"Y-you believe us though, right?" Aeyrin stammered in concern. She heard him when he said that they were not persecuted or that he and their leader believed them, but she still felt like she needed to reassure herself.
"I do," Vuaerion nodded slowly. "And I am grateful that you have spared our brother an eternity of misery and servitude to a monster he despised."
"I didn't want to kill him," Aeyrin sighed somberly. "But…"
"Yes. No need to continue, sister," Vuaerion interrupted her. "Why don't you tell me about the Skull instead? I am very curious to know where you found it."
He was in for a surprise when he would learn that it had been right under their noses the entire time.
…
Vuaerion had a hard time believing that something as dangerous as the Skull of Corruption had been right there, only a few passes away from their main base in Skyrim.
The dreams never affected the paladins, but they knew about the strange happenings in the city. Vuaerion said that they had sent men out numerous times for meticulous house searches and to question the citizens. But of course, they had uncovered nothing. None of them thought to look into nearby ruins. After all, there were numerous such sites and nobody ever knew the real purpose of the temple above the city. Nobody even knew that there were people inside. It appeared that the cultists had managed to keep their presence a secret. It was a bit strange that the huge Orcish invasion wasn't ever registered, but maybe it was a covert attack. The temple wasn't that close to the town after all. Not so close that people might see anyone approach from down below.
As expected, Vuaerion wasn't exactly thrilled about their methods – about ingesting the potion and exploring the fort on the verge of the realm of dreams. But he was grateful for the Skull. He assured them that it would be kept safe in the paladins' vault.
He also reassured them that he would take his contingent and explore the temple fully. He could easily dispose of the barrier once that 'miasma' thing dissipated and they could search the place without any cultist concoctions. He did ask Bishop and Aeyrin to keep quiet about the events at the temple. He was worried about the exact things that Aeyrin had assumed. The Vigilants needed to examine the place without meddling citizens. And they needed to wait for Erandur there too.
There would be no reward for them. No pay, no gratitude from the Jarl and the citizens, no free drinks at the inn. And it looked like Vuaerion had considered the good deed a reward enough as well.
Maybe he had a point though. The people of Dawnstar were spared a terrible burden. And it would make Bishop and Aeyrin's travels just so much easier.
And maybe it would make the Vigilants a bit less distrustful of them. Unless… they were even more distrustful now after they learned of the concoction and everything.
But didn't the fact that they had always left those dangerous artifacts to them count for something?
Except for the Skeleton Key, of course. But nobody needed to know about that.
So, with their pockets empty and an unpleasant experience richer, Aeyrin and Bishop returned to Dawnstar. It was almost evening again once they did reach the town. Nobody knew yet. Nobody knew that the nightmares were gone. That the spell was broken. They would all find out that night. So for now, they entered the same place they had left – full of people slugging around, their steps resembling zombies more than men. In fact, if anything, everyone looked even worse. As if they had been… spooked.
But they didn't need to worry about that, did they? It was supposed to be for the last time. People were probably going to spend the whole next day celebrating.
And since they already knew, Bishop and Aeyrin had decided to celebrate properly right then and there.
By sleeping.
"I really hope that it doesn't take time for that curse, or whatever, to stop," Aeyrin let out a sigh as she finally got out of her clothes and slipped into the bed to join Bishop. They had barely even spent any time in the common room. They just had a quick dinner and hurried to their room. "I know we slept only a few hours ago in that cave, but still…" She snuggled into his side and began absentmindedly running her hand over his chest. "I feel so… drained."
"Yeah," Bishop only nodded in response while he began to stroke over her hair in similarly absentminded motions. It seemed like they were both lost in thought. He had been like this for a while now. Practically ever since they left the Hall of the Vigilant. Maybe now that it was all over, the events were starting to sink in.
There was silence for a while. Until Aeyrin couldn't help herself. She knew that he never liked talking about emotional stuff, at least not too soon and she was able to respect that with that whole Karliah mess. For a while at least. Now she couldn't. She wasn't sure why everything felt so… miserable. They should have been happy to have freed the town of the curse, but… she couldn't bring herself to it. And she wanted to find out if it was just her.
"S-so… we haven't really talked about…"
"I'm fine, princess," he interrupted her quickly. Surprisingly enough though, he didn't sound even a little annoyed that she asked. He sounded somewhat sincere. Or at least like he wanted to be sincere. "It was shitty to have to say goodbye again," he sighed. "I know he wasn't real, but… he felt real."
She nodded at him wordlessly. She knew that all too well. Everything felt so real. That place, that fire, Thorn's voice, that shadow. And it wasn't just what happened at the temple. The memories after… these things would never really be gone.
She was quite surprised that Bishop had said anything more at all. She felt oddly wary of interrupting. As if she would spook a wild animal.
"I… I should just be happy that I got to see him again," Bishop sighed. It was good. No matter how it ended, he was so happy to be around Jules again, even an imaginary one that his mind had created in his unconsciousness. "And I should be happy that I didn't actually see him dead this time around." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. That wasn't really true. Not after he had grabbed that Skull. Not after the memories returned. "Not at first…" those images were all too vivid now in his head.
"Did you remember too? Those nightmares," Aeyrin almost whispered. They never talked about this after the ritual was broken. But she could see it in his eyes back then. She wasn't even sure why she asked now. It was obvious. Maybe that was why everyone in Dawnstar looked so unsettled now.
"Yeah," Bishop answered somberly. "They're just dreams, right?"
"R-right," she nodded. They were just dreams. But these felt… different. She was sure that she had seen a lot of those things she had dreamed of in Dawnstar in her nightmares before. Probably even worse things. But it was never so… vivid. Never so memorable. So impactful. She wasn't sure why.
"Fuck…" Bishop let out an oddly resigned sigh. "Maybe she was doing us a favor." He didn't even have to look at Aeyrin to know that she felt the same. The memories of those dreams burrowed into his skull like worms into dirt.
"Who?" Aeyrin looked up at him in confusion.
"Vaermina. Stealing those dreams… would have been better not to remember," he shuddered. And he thought that the mornings after, with the forgotten struggles, were bad. This was worse.
"She's the one who gave us those dreams in the first place," Aeyrin scowled in response. "Or the Skull. Whichever." That monster did nobody any favors. Ever.
"Really?" Bishop looked at her with strange trepidation etched on his face. "You never dream of the stuff you did whenever we slept here?" He looked like he was hoping that he wasn't alone in this.
"I… of course I do," she sighed. "But this feels different. I don't know why."
"Yeah. I feel it too," he let his head fall back on the pillow with another resigned sigh leaving his lips.
Somehow, even this one reward, this one thing that was actually supposed to make this all worth it, even that seemed out of reach now.
Even without Vaermina's Skull wreaking havoc on the town, would they be able to sleep with those memories still plaguing and invading their heads every second?
…
It was so ridiculous to think back on it now.
To think back on how they imagined saving the town from the nightmares, everyone rejoicing, everyone refreshed and happy. Everyone celebrating.
People still looked disturbed. Scared and uncertain. Maybe it was the memories. Maybe it was the uncertainty about what happened – would the nightmares return? What caused them?
Removing the Skull may have dispelled those figments, but it apparently wasn't some quick cure-all. It was no glorious victory. There was no relief.
Everyone would need time to recover.
And as always, Bishop and Aeyrin wanted nothing more than to remove themselves from that place just then. There was never any better way for them to recover then to spend days alone, wandering the wilderness.
They were almost ready to head out. Their sleep was far from pleasant that night, but it was definitely an improvement in the amount of energy that it managed to fill them with. At least they were feeling well enough to travel right after breakfast.
Bishop only stepped out of their room to give the innkeeper their key back, since they had no use for it for another night. Aeyrin was still inside the room, donning her armor. He couldn't wait until they would get out. They could stay in the Pale for a while longer. Or anywhere, really. Just not in Dawnstar. Not right now.
He was still waiting for the innkeeper to return behind the bar when a voice brought his attention elsewhere. A man was calling out, without specifying to whom, but as the voice neared, Bishop got a nagging feeling that it involved him.
"You. Yeah, you," the man scowled at him across the room when he finally got Bishop's attention. He was a Nord, in his middle years probably, with long grey hair and a menacing stare in his grey eyes.
"What?" Bishop scowled right back. The fuck was he yelling about?
"That your feral wolf out there, attacking people?" the Nord growled.
'Feral'? 'Attacking'? That was definitely not Karnwyr. What, some stray pup wandered into town and lashed out and now everyone was blaming Bishop and Karnwyr?
"My wolf doesn't attack people," Bishop scoffed at the man.
"It's a wolf," the Nord scowled. "Look, wild wolves don't come near the town, they're not stupid. And according to what the people here say, you're the only one daft enough to actually bring one to town. So come and pacify him, now. You can get your drink later."
The man did have a point about wolves not approaching cities. Was it really Karnwyr wreaking havoc? Something must have happened. Maybe some people were provoking him.
In any case, the Nord was right. Bishop needed to go and check. This could turn ugly.
He left the key on the counter haphazardly and rushed after the Nord – he was already leaving the inn, expecting Bishop to follow.
They were outside within seconds and the man started to lead him east, past the longhouse.
"He was jumping at some folks at the edge of the town," the man growled. He didn't say anything more as he ushered Bishop along, past the eastern edge and towards the northern one, by the shore. They were almost out of town now, surrounded by the last houses and the hills on the other side. There was no wolf to be seen anywhere and no townsfolk in panic. It was odd, Bishop had thought that he would hear the commotion by now, but The Nord still continued onwards. And then suddenly, a sound alerted Bishop, stopping him in his tracks.
It was a very familiar growl.
But it came from behind him, from one of the hills on his right side.
Karnwyr.
Bishop's eyes went towards the sound instantly and the Nord stopped in his tracks as well. Karnwyr was standing on top of one of the hills, growling and barking wildly. He was so out of it. Bishop had rarely seen him so aggressive outside of battle.
He was growling at that Nord.
Even when Bishop was in danger, even when someone was the enemy, Karnwyr never went this crazy. Bishop had only ever seen him get like this with specific people. He could still not really see the pattern. Especially since the fact that he was like this around the Companions threw him off. But he had been like this around Alva – the vampire back in Morthal. Was this man a vampire? Or was it something else? Karnwyr looked ready to attack at any second, but… he looked wary too. Scared even.
"What are you?" Bishop narrowed his eyes at the man. It was clear now. There was no attack, no feral wolf. This man was leading Bishop somewhere and he looked outright startled to actually see Karnwyr. Maybe he had never seen the wolf around the town. He probably used him only as an excuse.
"Fine," the man scoffed and something in the tone of his voice made Bishop's hand dart towards his sword. "Over here!" he called out.
What? Were there more people here? What was going on?
Bishop hesitated before attacking. Karnwyr's growls seemed to drown out all the other sounds, or maybe there were no other sounds at all, but there were people. One jumped down from a nearby tree, two rushed from behind the hills. And Bishop recognized them instantly. Not the people. He had never seen them before and they were all masked. He could only see enough to distinguish the basic features – an Argonian, an elderly Nord and a Redguard. But the armor was what he recognized. Black with red accents.
Assassins.
Bishop's breath quickened in panic. Fuck, how did he fall for this? He wanted to attack. Every fiber of his being cried out for him to attack and kill these fuckers, but… he knew that he was outnumbered and he knew that he likely stood no chance.
He needed to run.
Without any more prompting, he turned on his heels and ran, as fast as he could. They wouldn't attack him in town, would they? They wouldn't risk witnesses, would they?
The fresh snow got disturbed by his heavy footsteps and within a second, he could hear panting next to him. Karnwyr had enough sense to run as soon as he saw Bishop retreat. Whatever the Nord was, it didn't matter. They both needed to get away.
Bishop couldn't hear anyone behind him. But he couldn't hear them before either. They were surely all muffled. He couldn't help but look back when he was nearing the eastern pass leading from the town.
There was no one behind him. He couldn't see anyone.
But he still felt followed.
The pass wasn't safe, nowhere outside was safe. He needed to get back to the inn.
But then, just as he took a turn and headed back west towards his destination, suddenly he felt something prick him in his upper arm. It felt like something just stabbed into him. He didn't feel anyone there – a thrown projectile? But when he looked at his arm, he couldn't see it in there. In fact, he couldn't even feel his arm anymore. He couldn't move it.
They were throwing something at him. Paralyzing darts? It wasn't deep enough for an arrow. And at least it was only his arm. But what if it hit his leg? He would topple over and make himself an easy prey.
And he couldn't see it. It was invisible. They were invisible.
They were following. He couldn't even know how many of them were following.
Fuck!
The town wasn't safe. The inn wasn't safe. He needed to run. They needed to get out of here somehow without the assassins following. And he needed to get Aeyrin.
Panic was enveloping him as he tried to think of the best escape strategy. He felt something, a second later, swish by his head. He couldn't see a thing, but he knew that they were still there, still trying to immobilize him with those fucking darts.
But as some kind of a fucking Gods-sent, just as he neared the inn at last, its door opened and Aeyrin stepped out. She was holding his pack in her hand and looking around in confusion. Of course she was looking for him.
By the time she noticed him running towards her, with Karnwyr at his heels, they were already almost in front of her. She didn't manage to even utter a word. Bishop grabbed her free hand and yanked her along.
"Run!"
It was the only thing he could say between his heavy breaths. He didn't know where they were going to run. He had no idea what to do. He had no idea what the assassins were capable of. Would they kill someone in plain sight? Their antics were already attracting attention from nearby townsfolk, looking at their flight in confusion. Even the guards at the edge of the town looked disturbed and as if they wanted to intervene, but didn't know if they should.
Nobody could see the assassins at their backs.
Aeyrin listened instantly and she broke into a run alongside Bishop. He had to let go of her wrist soon – it would slow them both down to hold onto each other like that, but he kept making sure that both her and Karnwyr were still with him.
They passed the confused guards and continued running out of town. It may have been dangerous to leave Dawnstar right now, but it was just as dangerous in there, it seemed. They needed to do something, but what? They couldn't even see the assailants.
And then, Bishop's eyes landed on their way out at last.
There was a carriage. Empty and abandoned by the driver. They must have been at the inn for a meal or something. But the horse was hitched.
"There! Get in!" he pointed with his mobile hand to the carriage. That thing was their only chance to get some distance between them and the assassins.
They were almost there, but just as Bishop neared the back, he felt a sting in his shin. The numbness spread out instantly.
He stumbled, his head hit the back of the cart and sharp pain spread through it. But he did manage to grab onto some parts not to fall on the ground instantly.
"What?" Aeyrin's panicked voice rang in his ear. It must have been strange to see him stumble like that just then, especially since she still didn't know what was going on. She didn't even know about the darts. "Just… Gods, just get in. I'll… I'll try to…" she didn't finish her thought. She just threw his pack into the back of the carriage unceremoniously and helped Bishop hoist himself up into the carriage as fast as she could before she ran towards the front.
She situated herself on the driver's seat and grabbed the reins. She wanted to rush the horse, but she felt so… out of place here. She quickly took off her own pack and threw it back into the carriage, briefly checking that both Bishop and Karnwyr were in securely, before she turned towards the horse again.
"I… I'm not really great with horses…" she called out nervously.
"Just do something!" Bishop called back in panic. They needed to get away. Already he heard one dart swish by and get lodged somewhere in the wood of the carriage. He promptly reached out with his mobile hand towards Aeyrin's pack and unfastened her shield from it. At least he could protect himself and Karnwyr from the worst of it. And Aeyrin too, at the right angle.
Aeyrin smacked the reins against the horse and it did start to walk onwards slowly. The carriage was finally in motion, but apparently, not fast enough.
A loud noise suddenly rang through the area. It sounded like a heavy impact of wood on wood. As if a crossbow bolt got lodged into the carriage.
Fuck! Was it really a crossbow bolt? That was much more deadly than a dart!
But that soon became the least of their worries.
The sound startled the horse and the animal neighed in panic. It raised its front legs and flailed around a bit before it broke into a fast gallop. The carriage was yanked along, jumping and rattling on the bumpy road as the panicked horse continued on. Bishop had to scurry back along with Karnwyr just so they wouldn't fall off the back edge.
The shield was probably no longer necessary.
The horse was so fast, the assassins surely couldn't keep up. But that wasn't the problem anymore. They may have escaped one danger, but now they were faced with another. The horse didn't even heed the road. It ran off, through the snow, across the rocks beneath. The carriage was not made for this. The sounds of cracking wood permeated through the air and they only served to rattle the horse more, as well as the constant jolts and jumps that the cart was making.
"You need to calm it down!" Bishop called out to Aeyrin in panic, but just as the words left him, he had to grab tightly to one of the benches. The whole carriage tilted sideways for a while, but luckily it landed back on all four wheels in a second. Still, they would crash if it went on like this.
"I don't know how!" She shook her head. She had never really even ridden a horse successfully. She tried, but she panicked a lot and that just made it worse for the horse too. So she tried the only thing she could think of. She pulled on the reins. Hard.
"No, don't!"
It was too late, the horse's panic clearly worsened at the sudden pull and it neighed wildly, picking up speed. The carriage kept jumping around on the rocks, even getting stuck for a bit and yanked into motion harshly whenever they went through a snowbank.
Bishop didn't know what advice to give her. Everything he could think of would only spook the horse more. Climbing on it was a bad idea too with her armor on. And he still couldn't move his arm and leg to try it himself.
"I don't know. Just… Aah!" he yelled out when a bumpy rock almost sent him flying. He landed back onto the wood with a heavy, painful impact.
"I don't either, I… I…" Aeyrin stammered in panic, but suddenly she could feel something. Something building up inside her. It was a familiar instinct. She wasn't sure why it kicked in now, it usually only did when she was in mortal danger. Maybe it was the panic. But she let it take her completely.
"KAAN DREM!"
It was as if the entire world had suddenly quieted.
A green glow enveloped the horse and it slowed its pace, then stopped altogether. The wild cart in the back collided with the horse's behind and Aeyrin fell onto it as well, face planted above its tail with heavy impact. Her nose hurt, but the horse didn't even flinch. It just stood there, calmly. Bathed in the soft green aura.
Bishop stared at the horse wide-eyed before recollection dawned on him. He looked at Karnwyr in panic instantly.
The wolf was covered in that glow as well, but he looked perfectly content. He even looked like he was sleeping. He was breathing calmly and there was a strangely serene look on his face.
"Fuck… fuck… what?" Bishop peered at the scene in shock. Aeyrin seemed none the wiser.
"S-so… I guess we kind of finally know what that Shout does?" she let out a strained chuckle. This one had been a mystery for a long time now. She had never dared to try it again, since she knew that it affected Karnwyr.
But now it was a bit clearer. It looked like it was somehow very calming to animals.
That was kind of nice. Such a peaceful Shout. She only hoped that it was really all it did.
She finally looked back, only to see Bishop, still in shock. She noticed some black dart or something protruding from the back of his arm. And there was another one at the back of his shin, which he was keeping elevated above the carriage wood.
"What in the Gods' names just happened?"