The night air in the Pale was cold and the snowflakes kissed the group as they walked through the snow. The rugged stones beneath their feet were coated in a thick layer of snow and the trees were frosted with white, gleaming branches. Icicles hung off the cliffs, and Vilja gleefully broke them on the way up, to Lucien's chagrin. The walk was driving her to boredom and she began to play with one, which was larger than the others after yanking it off its resting place.
"Hey, you could take your eye out like that! Those things are sharp! I don't want to look like Keeper Carcette!" Lucien admonished her behaviour and covered his face with both of his hands instinctively as the wily Nord began to twirl the sharp funnel of water around like a baton.
"What's the matter, are you scared of a bit of frozen water, Lucien?" Vilja teased him. "These ones aren't even that hard, see?" She pressed on the rounded tip with her finger to emphasize the lack of a point.
"Candle, can you talk to her?" Lucien groaned to Cura, who was a little ahead of them.
Cura exhaled and muttered to herself. "Is that what this is going to be?" She immediately spun around, short of patience. "Vilja, what did I say about wild antics?"
"I'm sorry." Vilja apologized as she dropped the icicle. Lucien dropped his hands with a relieved sigh.
"So Cura, you said you come from here?" Vilja opened the conversation.
"That I did. I was born and raised in this lovely white tundra." Cura extended her arms outwards to emphasize the mountainous scenery and twirled around.
"Oh... I thought your surname "of the Pale" was referring to your light complexion." Vilja chuckled. "Like saying, "Cura who is fair of face.""
Cura scoffed lightheartedly. "No... it's more in reference to my... illegitimacy. Children born without married parents, or who aren't given title by a Noble parent take the name of the region they come from. Say, if I were born in Markarth I'd be "Cura of the Reach", or in Riften; "Cura of the Rift", et cetera."
"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that..." Vilja's tone fell. "Your childhood must have been a rough one here in Skyrim."
Cura shook her head. "No, not really. It was quite nice, actually. I was raised in the Vigil. They were pretty nice, for the most part. I never went to bed hungry if I did my chores and behaved, and I wasn't abused. In fact, I grew up learning lots of useful talents, like Restoration Magic, Mace Etiquette, how to Block, how to brew some Potions... and I learned a lot about the Lore of the land."
Vilja was amused. "And what about Inigo? Did you meet him here?"
"No, we've known each other much longer. I shot her in the head a long time ago." Inigo sighed sadly. "But, I am making it up to her now. Or, I am trying to, if not for these dumb mind vibrations."
Cura shook her head and looked at Vilja. "That didn't happen. He has me mistaken for another."
Inigo shook his head. "You don't remember, but I do."
Lucien crossed his arms. "It just doesn't make sense."
"What do you know?" Inigo snapped at the Imperial and walked on ahead.
Eventually, they reached a dark gray tower. It extended up to the clifftop, and its open door invited the howling winds inside, and piles of snow were planted firm on the doorway and the western wall inside. The steps leading up to it were angled, and also covered in the compiled frozen white flakes.
Inigo was silent the entire voyage, which was uncharacteristic of his usual self. This shift in behaviour betrayed his attempt at a calm exterior. Cura could see that her friend was anxious, and stood by his side. "We're here..." she stated as they came up to the stairs, and she drew her weapon, expecting a Bandit onslaught.
Immediately, an arrow came whizzing down past Cura. A Bandit on the roof had seen them and alerted his friends, who all came rushing down the stairs on cue.
"You'll pay for that!" Vilja shouted at the Bandits as she nocked an arrow on her own bow and clipped the higher up Bandit's shoulder with it. The shock of the sudden piercing blow caused the highwayman to fumble about and fall off the tower roof.
Inigo growled as a bandit clashed blades with him. "My head is splitting and the sight of you is driving me crazy!" He spun around and stuck the blade through the ruffian's chest.
Lucien cast a Paralysis rune on the stairs, and a Bandit activated it once he attempted to lunge for the Imperial. A green burst of light engulfed the barbarian, and Lucien then proceeded to pelt him with Elemental Bolts from a safe distance.
Cura shield-bashed the last Bandit and took her head off with the clean swipe. Soon enough, they were left standing under the cold, hollow winds. "Good work." she praised her allies. "They won't be hurting passersby any more."
"From what I've seen so far, it seems most people would rather live as Bandits than as citizens." Lucien shrugged. "It's a damn shame."
"I'm sure the war has something to do with it..." Cura said somberly.
But for now, they had to return their attention to the matter at hand.
Inigo exhaled. "OK, this is Snowpoint Beacon. Next we need to find the wooden posts I saw. They must be close."
Cura nodded and pointed northeastward. "Somewhere that way."
"In my vision the posts were worn and weather-beaten. According to my nose all the wood here seems to have been cut fairly recently." Inigo pondered as he sniffed the air. "I can also smell stone, and ice, and you, and..."
Cura quickly sniffed her robe by lifting the collar up to her nose. It was new! There was no way...
"Wait. I can smell old timber! This way, my friend." Inigo quickly took off running in approximately the location Cura gestured towards, and the rest of the group followed him.
Cura could feel heaviness in the air as they trotted up the mountain. It was like seeing the two halves of her life come together - her childhood at the Vigil with her friends from her teenage to adult life. It was something to contemplate.
"I hope it's not one of those Volkihar Vampires or something..." Lucien shuddered.
"The source of my mind vibrations is east of here. I am sure of it." Inigo said as he rounded the mountainous corner with Cura trailing close behind him. Immediately, they noticed large, ceremonial wooden stakes sticking up high into the sky from the edge of the mountain. "The cabin must be nearby. There are the posts from my vision. Come on, let's follow them."
"Are you afraid, Inigo? Do you think we could be making a mistake?" Cura asked him shortly.
"No, but we are on the right path." Inigo answered two questions in one shot before expressing his gratitude. "I am glad you are by my side. Let's push on."
"Any time." Cura reassured him.
She knew that this whole thing was taking its toll on the poor Khajiit. The sooner they got to the bottom of this, the better it would be for his health.
"I'm wondering if all this is in my head." Inigo laughed nervously and turned to the rest of the group. "You haven't had any visions, have you? Maybe I'm crazy. Let us find out."
Lucien grit his teeth, and Vilja sighed. "Poor Inigo..."
They continued on the snow-covered path and came upon wooden stairs that seemed to frame the turning path heading up the mountain."Argh! My mind vibrations! The source is at the top of these steps. I can feel it!" Inigo exclaimed as he pointed to a wooden walkway ahead.
They hurried up the stairs and eventually came upon exactly what they were expecting; a wooden cabin, sitting at the corona, surounded by small trees, wedged between two pillars of rock.
"There it is." Cura stared in awe.
"Thank the gods. I am not crazy." Inigo wiped his forehead with relief. "There it is... the cabin I sw. My friend, I bet you a hundred Septims the door is locked tight."
Cura walked over to the wooden barrier and gripped the knob. She turned it, and it was stiff. "Yes; it's as locked as it could be. Only Nocturnal could pry this one open."
"I think I have a solution, though." Inigo smiled.
Cura understood. "Under the rug."
"What's your plan?" Vilja asked her new acquaintance.
"During one of my painful episodes I said "it is under the rug." Remember? Give me a moment."
Cura stepped aside and leaned against the wall while Inigo rummaged underneath the carpet on the porch. He pulled up a key. "Aha! Yes, here it is. A key!"
"Oh, clever." Lucien remarked sarcastically. "Not like it isn't the first place a thief would search for a key or anything. Not at all."
Vilja laughed. "It is rather silly, isn't it."
"Back home my mother used to keep a spare in the same place." Inigo laughed as he recalled his childhood. A hint of sadness showed itself in tandem with the nostalgia. He brushed it off for the moment and gave the key to Cura. "Why don't you do the honours? My hands are uncharacteristically shaky for some reason."
Cura smiled as she took the key. "It's going to be all right, Inigo." She placed it in the lock and gave it a strong twist. "I'm ready if you are."
"OK, let me see what is inside." Inigo shuddered.
A loud clunk! was heard and the door was loosened. Cura turned the knob and pushed it open. Inigo, Vilja, and Lucien followed her inside.
Immediately, they were greeted by the sight of a wooden interior with a fireplace, and with what looked like an odd, cultish, extensive shrine to Inigo. There were illustrations and paintings of him all over the wall on the left side of the room, some depicting him bloody and wounded, some depicting his adventures with another Khajiit, and a painting of his face next to an alchemy lab greeted them the second they walked into the door.
Cura and Inigo both were stunned by the surprise of such a scenery. "Is that a picture of me? What is this place?" Inigo shivered. "Let us look around."
"Wow... stalkerish, much?" Lucien muttered as he looked at it.
Vilja shuddered. "This is so creepy..."
Cura moved closer to Inigo protectively. Someone was stalking her friend, and by the looks of it, they've been at it for a while. The only question remained was if they were a weird friend or a deadly foe.
Assassins don't have this much memorabilia. This goes beyond targeting or fascination. Who was this person, and what on Nirn do they want?
The Dragonborn grew tense. She would not allow her friend to be harmed.
"This is unsettling, but I do not sense danger here." Inigo informed Cura, putting her somewhat at ease.
Cura walked to the west side of the room, and immediately saw a man laying in a bed, asleep. He was mostly bald with a long brown beard, and small length of hair beginning at the back of his skull. He donned black mage robes. He had a crooked nose and a smug demeanour, even as he slept.
"That man over there. I saw him during one of my episodes." Inigo pointed his way. "This room smells like forgotten memories. Maybe we should wake the owner." He walked beside Cura as she approached the sleeping man.
That was enough. Cura placed her hand on the man and shook him awake. "Excuse me. We need a word with you. Wake up!"
"Oh my. You're... you're here. I was beginning to lose hope." the man said in a posh accent to rival Lucien's as he slowly sat up.
"Hope is not lost. How can I help you?" Cura asked.
"What?" the man seemed repulsed by her statement. "No, not you, you bumbling Breton. Him!" He brushed her off and pointed at Inigo immediately.
Cura's eyes flared for a moment, but she simply took a deep breath. They had to get information from him. Best stay tactful.
"Get out of the way." the man pushed Cura aside, causing her to bump against the wall lightly. He then looked Inigo in the face. "Inigo? Is it really you? Or am I dreaming?"
"You'll be dead in ten seconds." Lucien grit his teeth.
"How rude this man is!" Vilja crossed her arms. "A gentleman does not shove a lady like that."
Cura moved her blonde locks back into place and held her temper back.
Inigo responded to the man very sternly. "That is my name, and let me tell you this, if you insult my friend again I will be forced to harm you. Do we have an understanding?"
The man's wide smile turned into a sharp, nervous frown. "My apologies. I am often too terse for my own good. I mean nothing by it, I assure you."
Inigo continued. "OK. My friend here is a fantastic adventurer, unsurpassed in many areas. She deserves your respect."
Cura felt the seeds of joy blossom in her heart after hearing the kind compliments from Inigo. "Thanks, Inigo."
Inigo winked at her with a smile, and then turned back to the rude mage before them.
The man paused, hesitant to defy it. "I see. Well I'm sure you make quite the team, Inigo, but it is you who I have been seeking all these years. I'm so glad you're still alive."
"Who are you? Why have you been seeking me?" Inigo asked firmly.
"My name is Langley. Langley Longseer to some. Dear boy, I have much to tell you." the man answered cockishly. It would appear he'd rehearsed for this beforehand. "How did you find me?"
"I started to get brief, painful visions a while ago. They showed me flashes of this place and you. I also felt a nasty tugging sensation." Inigo shuddered as he recalled the events leading up to this.
"Yes, of all the ways you could get someone's attention, long-distance torture is quite the way to do it." Lucien remarked angrily.
"Torturing him was not my intention!" Langley snapped defensively. He appeared offended by the mere thought of something so debased.
Vilja nodded. "Couldn't you have just sent a Courier?"
"Right, because you'd just find a Courier here, in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps you should order a new brain for yourself." Landley rolled his eyes.
"Hey!" Vilja squeaked angrily. "Say that again, you Milk-Drinker!"
Langley turned his face from her, ignoring her.
"That's what I thought." Vilja sulked as she pushed the door open and walked outside to cool off a bit. Lucien followed her to make sure she wouldn't do anything crazy while out there.
The last thing they needed was to be brought to Jarl Skald the Elder with charges of property damage.
This left Cura and Inigo alone with Langley. Both were ready for some answers, and Langley was happy to give them.
"The spell works! Not quite as was intended, but it got you here in the end. I was about ready to string that conjuration mage up by his toes!" Langley exclaimed with a laugh.
Danica was right - it was the work of conjuration. They knew this already, but now it was admitted. Now to find out why it was hurting Inigo so badly.
"You summoned me? I have to tell you, your spell needs work." Inigo brushed it off condescendingly.
"I've been trying to locate you for quite some time." Langley confessed. "I even travelled to Riverhold. I found your parents shortly after they died, gods rest their souls..." he quickly snapped to it once he saw the expression shift on Inigo's face. "Oh dear, you do know about that, don't you?"
Cura held Inigo's hand and stood beside him silently, to offer him some solace. She looked to her friend to see his reaction. He kept a straight face, but she could see the sadness in his feline eyes. She wanted to smack Langley for bringing this topic up.
"They were killed protecting a trading caravan. I heard. You were there?" Inigo asked as he gave Cura's hand a light squeeze.
"Yes. I am so sorry for your loss. For all your losses. In a way I've been travelling with you. Just a step behind." Langley spoke regrettably.
Cura did not trust this man. He seemed as though he was trying to take advantage of Inigo's vulnerabilities to coerce him into cooperation. He did not feel sincere, though she could be wrong.
All she knew was that she wanted Inigo to be all right.
"Did... my mother and father... die well?" Inigo choked lightly.
"They met their end with dignity. I was the one who found them and I made sure they had a fine burial. They died holding hands." Langley said with a shaky tone.
Cura narrowed her eyes at the man. His knowledge and his hesitance in speech seemed quite suspicious. How did they know it wasn't him who killed them? She's seen too many people like this already. Just what did he want?
If he would hurt Inigo...
Cura tightly clenched Dawnbreaker's hilt with her left hand, though due to her shield's placement on her forearm, Langley could not see it.
Inigo felt the strange vibes, as well. "Why were you there? Were you looking for me even then?"
Langley responded quickly enough. "I had hoped they would lead me to you. I continued to track you for years, then the trail went cold... after I found your brother."
Cura almost unsheathed her sword, but Inigo gave her hand a tighter squeeze.
The cat-man could feel Cura's tenseness, as well.
Inigo lashed forward, almost readying for a fight, himself. "You found Fergus? How? Have you always been hiding in my past, haunting every step I take? Why? I do not know you! What do you want from me?" He was emotional now, and growing higher-strung with each second.
"I have come to know you very well. I am your friend, Inigo." Langley sneered at Cura, and then continued. "Perhaps the greatest friend you have. We are destined to work together!"
Cura shook her head silently and bit her lower lip.
Inigo held Cura's hand up as they still held each other. "I already have the only friend I need."
Cura smiled at Inigo. "Damn straight."
Langley cringed with disgust. "You don't understand. There's a great evil coming. I don't know when exactly, but it is close. I've seen it in my dreams."
"Mirrors in dreams don't count." Cura scoffed.
Langley redirected his gaze to the Breton and pointed at her. "You are there too." he looked back to Inigo. "You are the Champion destined to destroy the Doom Strider."
The name sounded like Alduin, but what do they know?
Inigo almost laughed at the absurdity of it. "What are you talking about? The Doom Strider?"
"Yes. The very avatar of destruction and death, the demon that has plagued my dreams for decades." Langley explained.
"Are you sure it isn't the Daedric Prince Vaermina messing with you?" Cura asked.
"I am certain it's not!" Langley sneered in defiance.
Inigo rubbed his forehead as fatigue began to take hold of him. "I... I need to sit down."
"Take a seat. Rest and I'll tell you all I know. I've been keeping a note of everything." Langley said.
"I am sorry, my friend. I need a moment. My legs are a little wobbly all of a sudden." Inigo slowly walked over to the other side of the room after releasing Cura's hand, and headed towards the table against the wall.
"Go and sit down. It is a lot to take in, I know. Make no mistake, Inigo, you are safe here." Langley reassured him. Then he looked at Cura again. "You both are."
He did not come off any more trustworthy.
Cura walked with him. A thousand questions poked holes in her mind; questions of the future, of Alduin, of Inigo, of Langley, of the Doom Strider, of Inigo's health, of their future partnership, of the state of the world, and of what they were about to learn.
Langley halted Cura before she could sit down at the table with Inigo. He called her attention to himself. "Inigo and I have much to discuss. I don't wish to be rude, but perhaps it's best if you leave us to it for a bit. In fact, if you could do something for me I'd be most grateful."
Cura narrowed her eyes at the shifty man. "What is it?"
"Eggs." Langley said plainly.
"What? What kind of eggs?" Cura furrowed her brows. He didn't expect her to really do his shopping for him, the bastard.
"Glad to be of use, eh? Good. I need Snow Thrush eggs." Langley stated. "Six should do the trick. They often boost my visions, allowing me to see further into the future. If Inigo is here then maybe the Doom Strider is finally preparing to strike. We must be ready."
"If this is for nothing, then the only one who will be struck is you." Cura placed her hand on her mace and looked down at it, and then routed her gaze to Langley.
"There are at least eight nests outside my home. You shouldn't need to go very far. I hope you don't mind heights. They are usually rather elevated." Langley's tone dripped with condescension.
Cura shook her head. "I used to fetch those things all the time. It won't be an issue."
Was she really doing a scavenger hunt? An egg hunt, no less? Immediately after snapping at Vilja over the ingredients?
Now she felt like a terrible person.
"What is the Doom Strider?" Cura asked. "Before I do anything, I want to know."
"I don't know. Maybe in time we'll find out together." Langley shrugged coldly. "Go on. Go and get those eggs and let Inigo and I talk a while. Remember to search high, and try not to do yourself a mischief."
"You-" Cura turned to Inigo. "Are you sure about this, Inigo?"
"This Langley fellow seems to have a lot to tell me, and sadly I don't think he'll do it with you here." Inigo admitted.
"Are you okay?" Cura asked out of concern.
"I'm a bit shaken by how well this man seems to know me, but I'll be OK. I wonder what else he has to say. I hope my poor mind can take it." Inigo expressed his thoughts plain.
"If he hurts you, you can be sure I'll get him for it." Cura assured him.
"I personally do not sense danger here but perhaps you shouldn't go too far from this house. If you hear any screams of agony, come running, OK?" Inigo whispered to her.
Cura nodded fervently. "You know I will. I will Shout that door down." She slowly walked to the door and watched as Langley took a seat adjacent to Inigo.
Her heart was throbbing and she had cold sweats. If anything were to happen...
No. Don't think like that. He'll be fine. Cura reassured herself mentally.
Immediately, there was a nest with a Snow Thrush egg on it sitting on the railing to her left on the porch. She snagged it, and turned to Lucien and Vilja. "Sigh... Vilja, do you like Egg hunts?"
"It depends." Vilja stated. "How many are there?"
"Five." Cura said.
"Where's Inigo?" Lucien asked.
"He's talking to his royal highness." Cura spat. "In the meantime he wants us to bring him six eggs. I found one. Five more to go. I really hate this."
Vilja crossed her arms. "Oh, so when he asks you to find ingredients it's okay. I see how it is."
"Hey, don't start with me!" Cura sharply put her foot down. She was flustered enough, and she did not need to be pushed further. "I helped you find the Eldergleam, didn't I? The world doesn't revolve around you."
She watched as Vilja's sunny face dimmed and she became a little gloomier. Cura began to feel a tad guilty once she realized that she'd hurt Vilja.
"I... I'm sorry." Cura quickly apologized. "I didn't mean it like that."
"No, no, I understand it." Vilja threw up her hands. "Let's just focus on finding those stupid eggs." She turned around and began to look on the other side of the mountainspace.
"Agreed." Lucien tried to diffuse the situation, and then proceeded to look around on the higher bluffs.
More than thirty minutes passed since the search began, and Cura still continued to feel guilt for the interaction as she climbed one of the mountain spires and retrieved an egg from the nest there.
Why had she lashed out like that? Perhaps that wasn't the right way to handle it. It was rather rude of her to snap at Vilja for effectively calling out her own hypocrisy. She would try to do better.
Vilja found one on the edge of a cliff in front of a statue of Talos, and Lucien found one on a bluff slightly below the cliffs.
Cura climbed the spire left of the cabin and noticed a nest on the roof. She threw herself onto it and pulled herself up by the straw. Five.
One more to go.
Vilja spotted something on top of one of the trees and retrieved it; a Snow Thrush Egg. "Okay, I found two of them!" she shouted.
"I found one..." Lucien muttered sadly.
"Two!" Cura called back and the three of them met in front of the cabin with them.
"One, two, three, four, five, six." Cura counted them. "There, that should shut him up."
Vilja spat on the porch. "He is one of the rudest people I have ever met in my life. I don't like him."
"He really is a jerk. I feel my life has become twice blighted for having met him." Lucien admitted.
"I really want to cave his head in, honestly." Cura confessed. "But as a Vigilant, I can't do such a thing." She pushed the door open and headed back inside with the eggs cradled in her arms.
Inside, Inigo and Langley were having a conversation. "So, you hired a group of adventurers to search for me?" Inigo asked.
"Yes, a useless bunch, really. They haven't come back with anything yet." Langley shrugged. "I've sent out word that you've turned up and they should now focus on the Doom Strider."
In a way, Cura blamed herself for dragging Inigo around the province with her, and with him staying at Winterhold for months probably didn't make the search party's life any easier.
"I hope they find out something soon. I am eager to know what it is I will be facing." Inigo scratched his chin.
"Whatever it is, I'm certain we can handle it together." Langley said confidently. "Just you and me."
Cura walked up to Langley and Inigo at the table and laid the eggs down on it. "Here are your eggs."
"Well done! You got the eggs. Very good." Langley clapped his hands condescendingly as if he were addressing a child.
"Here you go. Take them. Do I get a tip at least?" Cura asked sarcastically.
"A tip? Oh, yes. Here you go. Take my thanks and my gratitude. Very precious commodities indeed." Langley shrugged her off with crossed arms.
"Fine, here. Take your eggs." Cura gestured towards them. Her face was red, and that was not due to the cold air outside.
"What? I don't need eggs. I just needed you out of the house for a bit so we could talk. Keep them. Turn them into an omelette for all I care." Langley sneered smugly.
"You know what? I think I will." Cura said as she grabbed one off the table and brought it down on top of his bald head, cracking it open and spilling the yolk all over him.
Inigo began to laugh hysterically. "Hahahaha! This is the kind of humour I needed in my life!"
Langley griped in irritation as he wiped some of it off his face using his sleeves, "I... guess I deserved that."
Cura took a seat on the chair adjacent. "Yes, you did."
"Anyway, Inigo and I have had a bit of a chat and he's persuaded me that you can be trusted. It seems we three are in this together." Langley said as he tried to shake some of the shells off of his robes, but they were beginning to stick already due to the heat from the nearby hearth. "I've given him my notes and I'm sure he'll let you read through everything. If you have any questions I'll do my best to answer them. Maybe you should talk to Inigo first, though."
Langley immediately got up from his seat and headed away to do something about the mess on his outfit and hair.
Cura turned to Inigo, and he was excited to speak to her. "Good job getting those eggs, my friend. This Langley fellow may be a bit rude and gruff but he's on our side."
"You're absolutely sure about that, Inigo?" Cura asked.
"Yes." Inigo nodded. "He gave me these." He held up a few hardcover leather journals. "He found my father's journal. Can you believe it? He also gave me two book he's written about his search for me. They contain a lot of information about how important I am. They are very good books but also sad."
Cura nodded in understanding.
"Apparently I have my own prophecy. If you want to know more about it I'll tell you what I know. Langley says we are going to save the world." Inigo expressed his elation at the whole situation. "That is, of course, unless you think we have something better to do."
Cura couldn't help but wonder if Inigo was going to help her defeat Alduin, and that it was the dream Langley had.
Or perhaps the Doom Strider was something else entirely, off in the distance, waiting.
Who knows?
All Cura knew was that the Divines had plans beyond their comprehension, and perhaps she and Inigo were meant to meet for this purpose.
It was all so frightful. And fascinating,
"How does your head feel now?" Cura checked in on him.
"It is still a little tender. Oh. That reminds me. You should ask Langley about the summon spell that has been causing my mind vibrations." Inigo pointed out.
Cura nodded. "I fully intend to do just that." She wanted to know exactly what he did, and what went wrong.
"He has a spare copy. Maybe he will let you give it a go." Inigo mused. "My mind's not keen on the idea but I think a spell like that could be useful, my friend."
Cura agreed. "To be able to call you in from anywhere... doesn't it make you feel a tad uneasy though? What if I summon you in the middle of a bath, or in the middle of using the restroom?"
"Then I will take care to turn the other way to not stain your robes with pee." Inigo said jokingly, and Cura laughed from the nastiness of it.
"It has good consistency... this should do the tick, I think." Langley muttered as he finished brewing a soap bar over his alchemy table.
Cura approached him, and he snapped immediately. "Can't you see I'm busy? What do you want?"
"Can I ask you something?" Cura cut to the chase.
He shrugged. "If you must."
Cura decided to play with him a bit. "Can you tell me my future?"
"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that. Whenever I try to force a prediction the results are usually extremely vague." Langley explained. "My more accurate visions come to me in the form of dreams. Though even then they show possibilities, not definite outcomes."
"Like an Elder Scroll." Cura mused.
Langley looked at her with surprise and stopped churning for a second. "An Elder Scroll? You know what those are?"
"That's none of your business." Cura informed him. "Have you had any dreams about me?" she decided to prod him a bit further.
If she wasn't allowed to throttle him about, irritating him would suffice.
"No. Not yet, anyway. I occasionally get flashes of Mr. Dragonfly but that probably doesn't mean very much." Langley admitted. "Over time Inigo's fascination with the little fellow has obviously seeped into my dreams. I wouldn't feel too left out though. If you have a place in all this, I'm sure you'll show up eventually."
Well, she had, according to him earlier, so there was that.
If Inigo had to face something so awful, all Cura knew was that she would be there by his side, unless Alduin kills her.
...
Now that is a scary thought.
"Let's change the subject. Tell me about the summoning spell you used." Cura asked.
"It's rubbish! Tosh! It hardly works at all. All it seems to do is give poor Inigo vague directions to the summoner, and a headache." Langley cursed the day he ever learnt it.
"It's a lot worse than a headache." Cura stated. "It was more akin to torment." She scratched her chin. She knew that spells could fail if the user misses a requirement for it. Phinis gave a small lesson months ago concerning the importance of a connection to the summoned, and it was why many necromancers gave souls to the Soul Cairn, according to Serana. To establish a sort of personal connection with the Ideal Masters to call upon the Undead therein. Maybe Langley, for all his stalking, was lacking a connection to Inigo directly.
"Maybe you're doing something wrong." Cura proposed.
"I followed the instructions dutifully. There's no reason it shouldn't work. No one knows Inigo better than I do!" Langley proclaimed snobbishly.
"All right; what happened on the day when he got the scars on his face?" Cura asked him quizzically.
"Oh, no. Don't play that game with me, missy!" Langley pointed his pestle in her direction fiercely. "The conjuration mage who created the spell told me that as long as I was Inigo's true friend I should be able to get it to work. It's clearly broken. I'm the greatest ally Inigo has."
Cura couldn't hide her smirk. "Well, Inigo and I know each other pretty well, I'd say."
"Oh, I'm sure you know him a little, but I've been studying him for decades." Langley bragged about it as if it were a degree. "No. If the spell doesn't work for me it won't work for anyone." He then turned his attention to the person in question, who approached the two of them. "Isn't that right, Inigo?"
Inigo pointed at Cura. "I think you should let her try it."
Langley pushed out his chest smugly. "Exactly." then it hit him. "What? Why?"
Inigo stood at Cura's side. "Langley, I am sure we are great allies in the making, but my friend here and I have a more immediate bond."
"What do you mean?" Langley furrowed his brows and held his arms up to his chest. Then he looked at Cura and Inigo, and 'ahh'ed in a realization of sorts. "Oh, I didn't realize you were... an item."
Cura almost choked laughing, and Inigo was taken aback. He began to laugh as well. "Not that kind of bond!" when he calmed from laughing at Langley's perplexed gaze, he continued. "We have travelled together, we have enjoyed sharing our views on many subjects, we have fought bravely side by side. I have place my life in her hands."
"And mine in yours." Cura nodded to Inigo.
Inigo agreed and returned to his point. "What I am trying to say is we are friends. Go on, hand over a copy of the spell. I am the only one who will suffer if it goes wrong."
Cura had her doubts. "No, you won't. I'll make sure of it."
"I see. I won't argue with you. Even though it's a waste of time I will do as you ask." Langley reluctantly handed a spell book to Cura from the shelf next to them.
"Thank you. What is the worst that can happen?" Inigo shrugged.
"He could be proven wrong." Cura expressed faux distress with a gasp as she gestured towards Langley.
"You don't want to know. If we're going to do this we must be scientific. Inigo, you stay here and your friend and I will go outside." Langley said with a voice seeped in venom and insecurity. "Once we're on the path, you may try the spell and unsuccessfully teleport Inigo to us. Stare vacantly if you understand."
"I get it." Cura stated icily. "Your ego might need a moment to catch up to us, though." She walked out the door.
Suddenly, Delphine was starting to look better and better.
"Good luck, my friend. I will wait and brace myself." Inigo's voice came from behind her. Langley walked down the stairs as she stepped onto the snow field.
Lucien and Vilja seemed to be singing together, and stopped as they saw Cura and Langley arrive.
"Right. Let's get started." Langley placed a hand on his hip. "I had to pry it open just to read half the incantation. I doubt you'll have better luck."
"Your doubts are in vain." Cura expressed amusement as the spell book burnt itself up in her hands. She recounted the words in her mind as they seeped in.
"Inconceivable!" Langley shouted like a petulant child. "Just you wait, I bet your hands will explode when you cast it!"
"Oh, come off your high perch already!" Lucien expressed from afar. "She's a student of the College of Winterhold!"
Cura ignored all the sounds around her, and filled her mind with the thoughts and memories she has of Inigo. Their first meeting in the Riften Jail. Their party at Ivarstead. Her recognition by the Greybeards. Her birthday in the Candlehearth Hall. In Sheogorath's realm. Lydia's funeral. The Dawnguard. The Redwater Den Skooma episode, the victory embrace after the defeat of Castle Volkihar. Saarthal. Labyrinthian. His humour on the road. His funny antics. Their times together as a party, with Mjoll, Lydia, Carcette, Serana, Lucien, Onmund, Brelyna, J'zargo.
All of the memories were warm, and flowed through her like a river.
Inigo was there for her, for all this time. Regardless of what he thought about their past before the first meeting, they built a friendship over these years; a friendship that she loved and cherished.
Cura held up both hands, and called out his name. "Inigo."
With a bright flash of light, a vortex opened in time and space, and a figure quickly emerged; Inigo came to rejoin his friend at her call, and landed firmly on the ground before her.
Cura caught him and embraced her best friend with joyful tears in her eyes. "It worked! It worked!"
"What?! How did you do that?!" Langley was dumbstruck, and Lucien and Vilja applauded the show.
"Whoa! It worked! I am outside!" Inigo exclaimed as he realized what just happened. He began to reorient himself and he examined their surroundings.
"I don't know what to say." Langley was still in a state of shock.
Inigo clapped his hands excitedly. "Cura, let us test its range! Try to place me further away!"
Cura nodded. "Okay! Hrm... where to place you..." She looked to Lucien and Vilja, and quickly jolted her hands there. "Inigo."
He disappeared from beside her and reappeared in front of Lucien and Vilja. "Haha! That felt great!"
"Wow, that is very close!" Vilja chuckled. "You could have merged him with us."
"I don't think it works that way." Lucien informed her. "Anyway, good job! You did it, Candle! You sure showed that self-aggrandizing blowhard!"
Inigo ran over to Cura and held her by both shoulders. "My friend! That was wonderful! Did you see? One moment I was inside casually not tasting Langley's cooking, then WHOOOOSH!" He made a sweeping motion with his hands to the sides. "I saw your face and I was out here! It was amazing!"
"How does it feel?" Cura had to know. She felt an inexplicable amount of excitement herself, but tried to temper it as best as she could.
"It feels good. No mind vibrations at all. It is like a brief, warm embrace followed by a pleasant floaty sensation." Inigo raved as he recounted the sensation. "There is something else."
"What?" Cura asked.
"When you summoned me I felt like I had a choice. That I could choose not to go if I didn't want to. This is a fantastic tool, my friend!" Inigo pranced about joyfully. "I knew you could do it! You are outstanding!"
Cura turned away shyly as her cheeks turned red from the praise.
Langley slowly descended the stairs, and his tone was incredibly covered in salt. "Observation: The subject seems to be physically unaffected by the spell. He is however exhibiting poor character judgment."
If one could look close enough, they would see that his eyes were green with envy. Cura could see it, and was glad to see him knocked off his high horse a peg.
"You are a funny fellow, Langley." Inigo brushed off his remarks. "Poor character judgment my tail. My friend here did a fantastic job getting the spell to work. "
Langley continued to be hoarse. "Note: the subject is clearly delusional."
"'The Subject' does not sound nearly as good as 'The Champion.' Did I offend you in some way?" Inigo asked, sensing the hostility. "I hope not. Without you we never would have gotten such a wonderful spell. I hope you know we are grateful for all you have done."
"It's not you, Inigo..." Langley's voice wavered. He was clearly feeling hurt by these developments. He then turned directly to Cura. "It's her."
Cura shrugged dismissively. "I gathered that much a long time ago."
"The spell shouldn't work with just anyone. It was supposed to form a link between us." Langley grew frustrated. "This idiot broke it!"
"Okay, that -"
Inigo interjected before Cura could get upset. "I think that maybe the spell works because of the link my friend and I already share. You should not take it personally." Inigo pointed to Cura and their friends, and Langley. "We are a team now. We need each other and should not be fighting amongst ourselves."
Lucien pointed at himself. "A team? With that fellow? I don't think so."
Vilja shook her head, as well. "I'd sooner team up with an assassin from the Morag Tong than with him."
"You and I are a team. All this moron can do is collect eggs. How useful is that going to be when we take on the Doom Strider?" Langley snapped. "In my dreams the Divines themselves watched powerlessly as the Doom Strider destroyed the world - what can an egg-hunting Vigilant of Stendarr do against such a threat?"
"If you only knew a tenth of what you think you do." Cura scoffed at his ignorance.
"That is only one of my friend's many talents. Trust me, you could not wish for a more worthy ally." Inigo affably brushed it off.
Langley glanced at Cura with the corner of his eye. "We shall see." he then turned back to the stairs. "I hope you're right. I'm getting cold. I think I'll head inside. Feel free to make yourself at home and stay as long as you like."
"Oh, it won't be long." Cura muttered.
"When you leave I'll be sure to contact you with my lesser version of the spell if I hear anything new." Langley shrugged.
The bright side was that it could take weeks, months, or even years before he receives another vision, so Cura could be content with that.
Inigo was far more upbeat. "Thank you, Langley. I am glad we finally met."
"I am too. I can see you're every bit the champion this world needs. I'll see you soon." Langley bowed his head lightly. He swallowed his pride and turned to Cura. "I'm... sorry if I spoke out of turn earlier. I'm sure you don't mean to be annoying."
"Pot, meet kettle." Cura rolled her eyes. "Apology accepted. Inigo is right; if we're working towards fixing the world, we shouldn't be fighting amongst ourselves."
"Yes, I agree. Please don't take anything I say to heart. I know I can be insufferable at times." Langley shrugged. "Right. Goodbye, for now." He walked up the stairs in a hurry and closed the door behind him.
Inigo spoke to Cura as the door closed. "I am glad you are giving Langley a chance, my friend. I believe he means well, even if he is not very good at showing it."
"I wanted to Shout him off the cliff. I really did. A few times." Cura expressed her annoyance.
"I don't blame you. What a jerk." Vilja snarled. "I cannot stand people like that."
"I think he has some deep insecurities." Lucien mused. "He wants to overcompensate by snarking the Dragonborn."
"Does he even know who Cura is?" Vilja laughed.
"I told him my friend is a Vigilant of Stendarr." Inigo stated. "I was not sure if you wanted me to tell him the full details. My friend, do you trust him?"
"Not really." Cura admitted. "I think he may be somewhat on the moon, and he said it himself that his visions are sometimes vague. I don't know what to make of him."
Inigo nodded. "Yes... it is very understandable, my friend. But I have something to speak about with you, when we are alone, that is. Let's go to an Inn."
Cura nodded. "Of course. The Windpeak Inn is closeby. We can rest there for a while."
"Sounds like a good idea, Candle. I really need to put my feet up for a while." Lucien admitted.
Vilja also agreed. "It would be good to just relax a little. We've been travelling around a lot, and my toes are probably bluer than Inigo right now."
The group Fast Travelled to Dawnstar and walked inside the Inn. A few familiar faces waved to Cura as she entered, and a few Vigilants happened to be in the area. Cura was approached by one of them as soon as she saw her. A female Redguard Vigilant. "Vigilant Cura, it's been a while!"
"It has." Cura smiled, though she could not remember the Vigilant's name, unfortunately. "How is everything?"
The Redguard pondered an answer with a few short nods before giving one. "The Hall of the Vigilant... we're beginning to rebuild it!" she informed her.
Cura's eyes lit up when she heard this. "Really? Oh, that's wonderful news!"
The other Vigilant was thrilled to bits to inform her of this. "We've given the bodies proper burials, and sent word to some of their families - for those who had them. Vigilant Moric's body was sent back to High Rock to be buried in his family's lot, too."
Cura could accept the news. "Good; it's only right."
"Stendarr is rising, Vigilant Cura." the Redguard Vigilant stated. "And you've had a lot more to do with it than you realize."
Cura tilted her head. "Oh? How so?"
The Redguard looked at her, dumbfounded for a moment. "For all that you've done for the Province, of course! Your name, your stature in Skyrim - the Dragonborn who hailed from the Vigil - it's garnered us a lot of support! Jarls and nobles have been sending us financial aid from Morthal, and from Whiterun. Even the Dawnguard have offered us their support in rebuilding the Hall. It's all thanks to you. You've made us all proud, Cura. Never forget that."
Cura looked to Inigo and Lucien. "Well, I couldn't have done it without my good friends. You should thank them, too."
The Vigilant nodded at the both of them. "Keep up the good work, and Stendarr be with you."
Lucien responded gleefully. "Wow... why do I feel so warm and fuzzy inside?"
Inigo was happy to hear that he'd helped make a difference, as well. Especially now that he's learned he has more to look forward to in the future. He and Cura found a nice, quiet place to sit in the Inn, and Lucien and Vilja decided to hang out on the other side to give the two of them privacy. Vilja also began to show Lucien the old 'Solstheim Dance' on top of the Bar Counter to the Barkeep's dismay.
"Ahhh. This is nice." Inigo exclaimed as he stretched backwards in his chair, extending his arms up over his head.
Cura moved her shoulder around in a circle to relieve some of the tension she was feeling in it. Now, she could rest it a little. "It feels great in here. It's warm, the hearth feels gentle... I think it's going to be a good morning." she noted the dawnlight shining through the dark windows.
It was silent for a while before Inigo spoke up again. "You and I have been through a lot together. My friend, do you mind if I ask you something?"
Cura had no issue with it. "Of course not! Now, what is worrying you?"
Inigo scratched his chin fur. "Langley is a fascinating man. He knows a lot about me, and there is a great deal of evidence that his visions usually come to pass. All that said, we have only just met him. Do you think we can trust him in your heart of hearts?"
"I... suppose so. Langley thinks he is trying to do good. When I got over my anger I could think more clearly, and I think he may be trustworthy. After all, if he had ill intent, I'm certain he could have made that known far sooner. He didn't expect us to enter his house." Cura stated. "Maybe he is an honourable man."
"I feel the same way. He has many flaws, but who doesn't? Even though we have just met, he has been a part of my life for years. He is a good man. Hearing your opinion has eased my mind. Thank you, my friend." Inigo expressed.
"There is something else worrying you. We did not need privacy to discuss my opinion of Langley." Cura laughed lightly. "I would have been more than happy to say it to his face."
"Yes, there is something else I am compelled to mention." Inigo tapped his fingers together nervously.
Cura nodded to him as she sat relaxed in her seat. "Go ahead."
"I told Langley about how you spared my life and how I am indebted to you. He questioned my memory. He said my mind has been through a lot with the Skooma, the grief, the endless battles and so on. He suggested that maybe you are not the person I remember." Inigo shuddered.
Cura smiled and ordered a couple of bottles of mead from one of the wenches: one for her and one for Inigo. "We have been through a lot together, Inigo." she responded as she took a bottle and handed the other to her friend. "We hadn't discussed it in quite a while, but we really need to clear this up, once and for all."
"I already see where this is going..." Inigo muttered.
Cura looked at the bottle held between her two hands and popped the cork. She took a fast swig. This was going to be a tough topic. "First things first, I really appreciate you standing up for me to Langley earlier. That was very sweet of you."
Inigo followed her lead and did the same, understanding from her tenseness and body language that this was going to be deeply personal for them.
"Are you ready to talk about who you think I am?" Cura asked.
It was almost as if Inigo had forgotten the conversation they had long ago about him shooting her in the head. It came back to him now, as did the sorrow. "Yes. I am ready. Say what you must."
Cura knew it was going to hurt, but they had to clear it up. It would come up again at some point. She gently capped the mead bottle and closed her eyes. "I am NOT the person you shot. I'm certain, Inigo."
Inigo didn't appear angry, or even in denial. His perky ears fell to their sides and he looked away from her, sadly. "I know. When you first denied our past in my cell I did not believe you. Now I know better." He looked as though he were about to cry from the revelation; it was a dreadful truth that poked his heart, though he tried to run from it.
Cura allowed him solace from it for a long time - but it was still there. Still unresolved between them.
Inigo looked down to the floor and tears began to bead in the corners of his eyes. "I am sorry. I have misled you and myself. Our time together began with a lie. I am glad it is ending with the truth."
Cura looked concerned. She spun her head to look at him upon hearing this. Ending? What did he mean by that?
"I will bother you no longer. For what it is worth, thank you. We had some fun times, you and I." Inigo wiped the tears with his index fingers and chuckled lightly.
"Inigo..." Cura called out to him. "We need to talk about this."
"There is nothing to talk about. Langley was right. I am crazy, my mind is broken!" Inigo expressed his dolor aloud, causing some patrons to look at him momentarily.
"You've been through a lot. Don't be so hard on yourself." Cura sympathized. She knew a lot about the terrible things Inigo has gone through, and more than her own share of horrors have taught her that they can lead people to do uncharacteristic or terrible things that they wouldn't otherwise.
Inigo refused to hear it. He needed to rake himself over the coals. "I have been living a lie and worse, I have drawn you into it also."
"It's nothing compared to what I've drawn you into." Cura tried to lighten the mood with a small crack.
"I am not worthy of your time." Inigo sobbed.
"Come on, my friend. We're a team, you and I." Cura gently nudged his shoulder with her palm.
Those words seemed to do it, as Inigo halted for a second.
"What did you call me?" Inigo snapped out of his sorrow for a second.
"My friend. You are the Morihaus to my St. Alessia - minus the romance." Cura said jokingly. "Inigo, you've become my friend, where you like it or not."
"Do you really mean it? I will not hold it against you if you do not." Inigo tried to prod her a little bit. He needed to ensure that this wasn't an illusion spell.
Cura immediately set him to rest. "Of course I mean it, Inigo."
"Thank you. That means more than you know. I honestly thought we had a past together but as time went by I did begin to doubt myself." Inigo scratched the back of his head. "You are so similar to the person I once knew. You even smell the same... in a good way." He ensured her that she was odor-free at the moment, at least.
And then another sad realization set in. "I think deep down I knew my old friend was dead. When I heard about you wishful thinking became hope, and then hope became need." His heart slowly sank again. "I needed to believe forgiveness was possible, and if not forgiveness... redemption in death."
Cura slowly nodded with understanding. She needed to find the words to help him, and she pondered on them for a moment. Then she recalled her old conversation with Serana, about moving forward.
"I deceived myself. It was selfish of me." Inigo confessed his sins plain and bare.
"Yes it was, but it's time to move on." Cura told him bluntly, but with a blanket of gentleness.
Sunlight slowly began to pour in from the windows above them, illuminating the Inn.
"Time to move on. Yes. Thank you, my friend." Inigo wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. "I am still in your debt. You gave me a reason to go on, you made me face my past, and now you are helping me come to terms with what I have done."
Cura extended her hand towards him with a smile.
The two of them stood up from their seats and Inigo shook Cura's hand, and then pulled her into a close hug. "I will follow you to Oblivion and back if need be. I did not mean to lie to you... or myself." He slowly released her. "I am ashamed. I hope in time I will be able to earn your forgiveness."
Cura waved a hand and snorted nonchalantly. "Already done, a very long time ago. Don't worry about it."
"In the end, I hope our friendship and future adventures will prove more important than how we met." Inigo admitted as he sat back down and took a sip of mead. "We are a fantastic team, you and I. And you are so merciful and nice, and -"
It seemed he was trying to boost her mood.
Cura chuckled. "Inigo, I mean it. I forgive you."
"You are very kind. It is a beautiful gesture but my debt to you stands. I have not come near to earning forgiveness yet." Inigo insisted.
Cura uncorked her mead bottle. "Surely I'm the best judge of that."
"Your words bring me joy, but I do not deserve that." Inigo was inclined to disagree. "I am happy you do not hold my confusion about our past against me, but I cannot say the same. Also, the person I thought you were is dead because of me. Yet another casualty of my former life." He took a deeper sip of his mead and fixed his seat. "I will know when I am ready to move on, but for now the guilt I bear still weighs down my heart."
Inigo took a moment to look up at the daylight shining down from the windows. "Maybe that guilt will be there for the rest of my life. I have a feeling that I am the only one who can let it go."
"Then let it go, my friend. You can't change the past, but you can make a better future." Cura stated.
"You calling me friend means the world to me. I am honoured. You have given me a reason to go on, a whole new life, a chance at happiness." Inigo began. "If all goes well, maybe one day I will be at peace with who I am. If that happens if will be because of you also. You cannot remove my guilt but you have given me hope. I must do the rest."
Cura nodded. "I understand."
"You are more understanding than most, my friend." Inigo was impressed by her charity, though not surprised. "Your words lighten my soul, but as far as my heart is concerned, I still have much to repay."
Cura swallowed some more mead and wiped her mouth. "I think you're on the right road, Inigo."
Inigo nodded, and his ears perked up again. "Maybe you are right. Since we started travelling together I have felt a shift in the balance of my life. You know, we have had a few adventures, my friend, but I will never forget one particular fight."
"Oh, which one?" Cura asked, intrigued. Perhaps the Volkihar war? Or Nelacar? Or the two Dragons?
"We were in a dank, spooky crypt, and it was the first time I had come face to face with the undead since I received my scars." Inigo set the scene.
Cura wondered if it was Dimhollow, or maybe it was Ustengrav.
"I had been in my cell for quite a while and it was more excitement than I was used to." Inigo recounted. "As we fought side by side I became more aware that a new positive force was at work in my life. Despite the smell, fear, and general sense of unease, I knew that I would always remember that moment fondly." His eyes lit up. "We were magnificent together. When the battle was done and we stood victorious I knew I was walking a better path."
"Was this when we went to get the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller?" Cura asked with a glint in her eye.
Inigo laughed jovially. "You remembered it too!"
"I felt the exact same way back then." Cura informed him. "Something in my life was changing for good."
"Thank you for helping me unlock my potential, and for giving my heart and soul a second chance." Inigo expressed his gratitude.
"Of course." Cura smiled to him as she stood up. "Now, I'm going to rent us rooms; we'll rest until lunch and then we're going to High Hrothgar. You still want to accompany me there, don't you?"
"Of course I do, my friend!" Inigo expressed with great enthusiasm.
"Then I'll need you healthy, well rested, and in good spirits." Cura stated as she walked over to the bar counter.
Some time passed, and Inigo was already back to his antics, weaving humorous stories and making the tavern patrons laugh.
Vilja, however, sat in her rented room. She was looking at the bottle and an old flute that she had in its case.
Cura entered her room and closed the door behind her.
"Oh... hey." Vilja waved awkwardly. "Er... tell me, what do you want?"
Cura lowered her eyes. "I've come to apologize for treating you brusquely."
"That's a funny word. What does it mean?" Vilja wondered with a confused expression tainting her face.
"It's something in the vein of rude, impatient, intolerant, curt. Et cetera." Cura defined the word. "I picked that one up from the Bretons I know."
"Oh, I forgive you. Don't worry about it. I know I can be a little pushy sometimes." Vilja laughed it off with a wave of her hand. "I suppose I must have come out too loud. We've only just met and I've been asking you for all sorts of things. I'm sorry. And I'm also sorry about my remark about the Hall of the Vigilant. But hey, look on the bright side - they're repairing it! That's a good thing."
Cura was happy to hear it. "It certainly is! And, I forgive you, Vilja. Please, if I am a little bit irritable, know that it's more due to the stresses of my duties than anything you've done."
"Yes, Dragonborn. I understand." Vilja scoffed. "Anyways, I was just thinking; wouldn't it be nice to just talk a little, you and I?"
"Sure." Cura adjusted her seat. "What would you like to talk about?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to hear a little about myself?" Vilja asked.
"Sure." Cura gave her the go-ahead. If they were going to be travelling together, she'd like to know a little about her. "I'm curious about that flute."
"I got it in Solitude." Vilja informed her. "Quite some time ago, actually. I always loved music, and wanted to become a bard, even though my mother and grandmother were alchemists. As you know."
"A bard. So you sing?" Cura asked.
Vilja nodded. "Aye, I love music so much. It adds so much to life."
"I think you, Inigo and Lucien could make a good band." Cura laughed.
Vilja pondered it. "And what about you? Considering you rely on your Voice so much, you're probably an incredible singer!"
"It's not the same thing." Cura tried to explain. "The Voice - the Thu'um... ir's about Shouting, not singing."
"Have you ever tried to sing the Thu'um?" Vilja wondered.
Cura shook her head. "No; I've tried to mix words together before - but it was always unpredictable. I'm not sure how singing in Dovahzul would sound."
Vilja cleared her throat and tried to have a go at it. "Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin, Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal! Ahr fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan, Dovahkiin fah hin kogaan mu draal!"
The words came out smooth and soft, in contrast to the harshness of their usual utterance.
Cura was impressed. "You have a nice singing voice."
Vilja laughed. "I've practiced for years, much to my family's annoyance. Why don't you give it a try? Come on!"
Cura was hesitant. "Er... no. I'll sing little songs like Ragnar the Red every now and then, sure, but to actually sing? No... I couldn't -"
"Come on! Alduin's wings, they did darken the sky -" Vilja began and gestured for Cura to continue.
"Vilja-"
Before Cura could protest, Vilja tried again. "Alduin's wings, they did darken the sky -"
Cura sighed. "His roar fury's fire and his scales sharpened scythes."
Vilja opened the door and continued to sing. "Men ran and they cowered and they fought and they died." She beckoned for Cura to come on out.
Cura reluctantly followed, and continued. Her voice was surprisingly soft, for the Dragonborn. "They burned and they bled as they issued their cries."
Lucien, Inigo, and the other patrons noticed the sudden musical, and one of the Miners began to join in the song. With a raspy, baritone voice, he sang. "We need saviors to free us from Alduin's rage. Heroes on the field of this new war to wage."
Cura held a hand to her bosom and looked up to the sunlight pouring in from the windows. "And if Alduin wins man is gone from this world. Lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled."
Lucien decided to join in, as well. He walked over beside Cura, and began to sing smoothly. "But then came the Tongues on that terrible day. Steadfast as winter, they entered the fray."
Inigo picked up from where he stood on the other side of the room. "And all heard the music of Alduin's doom. The sweet song of Skyrim, sky-shattering Thu'um."
"FUS RO DAH!" Cura Shouted to add effect to the song. Thankfully, she learned how to temper its force so as to not blow the roof off the Inn.
Everyone excitedly clapped, and Vilja continued despite the applause. "And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin's rage. Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new Age."
Cura sang the closing lines. "If Alduin is eternal, then eternity's done. For his story is over and the Dragons... are gone."
With a moment of silence, the patrons and her friends all began to clap and cheer. Cura's face turned red and she tried to hide away, but Vilja wouldn't allow it. "See? You have a nice voice! I told you!"
"Vilja -" Cura was overwhelmed with embarrassment. "I swear..."
"Encore!" Lucien shouted out jokingly.
"No!" Cura protested against it. She's had enough time in the limelight for one day.
Thoring, the innkeeper called out to her. "Dragonborn, if you sing for us again, next round of drinks is on the house."
"Come on, Candle!" Lucien tried to push her into it.
"Yes, my friend! Sing like a bird!" Inigo goaded her.
Vilja nudged her on the side. "I think you're afraid you'll enjoy it too much."
Cura looked around at the peers who kept on pressuring her, and eventually caved. "Ugh. Okay, fine. What song do you wish of me next?"
"Ragnar the Red?" one of the patrons, a Vigilant, suggested.
"Ah, a fine but bloody tale! I can do that one." Cura agreed. After a clearing of her throat, she began. "O there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from Ol' Roriksteeeeeaaad..."
Minutes turned into over an hour of singing and drinking, and eventually the group settled into the rooms they'd rented to rest for the remainder of the day.
A lot of eventful things happened on this day: Inigo's Mind Vibrations were solved, and he learned some new things about himself, Cura learned she could sing, and the two of them patched up some cracks in their bridge.
It felt nice, seeing Inigo happy again. Cura was worried about him for quite some time, now.
It was relieving to see him in high spirits again.
And Lucien and Vilja seemed to be doing all right.
Cura thought that perhaps she should extend more courtesy to Vilja, and check herself to not be so quick to anger.
Tomorrow will begin her journey - a journey leading to her final confrontation with Alduin, and the fate of Tamriel rested upon her shoulders. The world's fate turns upon the Last Dragonborn.
Cura decided to open one of the books Inigo had passed to her; "In Search of a Champion 1":
"In Search of a Champion
Volume One
by Langley Longseer
Dreams
Ever since I was a child I've had the gift of foresight. At the age of six I awoke from a dream in which I saw our cattle being slaughtered by a group of monstrous beasts, all slashing claws and ripping teeth. I could smell the thick, metallic stench of blood as I awoke screaming. My father led me outside to prove that our livestock were safe. They were all there at the bottom of the field, alive and well. We went back indoors. I was fussed over, reassured, and then tucked back into bed.
Early one morning about a week later, my father found our whole herd slaughtered. They had been killed by a pack of giant wolves. The entire field was red with cow's blood. I soon learned to listen to my dreams and for many years my gift has served me well. Specifics are often frustratingly hazy, but if I have a vision it almost always comes to pass... unless I somehow intervene.
I've had countless visions over the years, but there is one that has outlasted all the rest. Since I was a young man my sleep has been plagued by a persistent nightmarish apparition. I have named this being The Doom Strider because in my dreams it brings anguish, grief, and pain wherever it walks. I have decided to dedicate my life to finding the one person my dreams tell me can vanquish this great evil.
The Doom Strider
In my dreams a hateful shadowy figure strides through our lands casting all asunder.
I see Tamriel transformed to a tortured ruin. I see thousands of innocent lives destroyed. I hear screams of agony, the weeping of children, and the hopeless pray to gods that can no longer intervene. This is not a mere nightmare... it is a vision! How long do we have before this thing, this agent of annihilation appears? I know not. All I know is that there is one who can help us. There is still hope.
The champion
In my dreams I see a champion unlike any other. A Khajiit that should not be, he escaped death in his first year, and has been successfully eluding it ever since. He is bold and fierce, but also kind and loyal. Like all Khajiit his appearance was decided by the moons at his birth, but he is the product of an extremely rare celestial alignment. The heavens have gifted him bluish fur, great strength, sharp eyes, and according to my visions, the power to destroy the Doom Strider. I must find the champion before it is too late.
Progress
The dreams are more frequent than ever but I think I'm making progress. I procured a traveller's journal that may describe our champion's place of birth. In the Khajiit homeland there is a tiny village, completely cut off from the modern world. The birth of a blue Khajiit is significant in their folklore. Every 200 years or so a child is born who turns blue a few weeks after birth. The appearance of a blue baby is seen as a bad moon omen and these bloodthirsty zealots sacrifice the infant as soon as they get their first blue hair!
I can only assume that the champion in my vision somehow escaped his fate. Maybe he was smuggled away by a family member. I'll travel to Elsweyr and visit every settlement in the vicinity of the village. Maybe I'll get lucky.
Our hero has a name
Inigo! His name is Inigo! After many months of travel my search has led me to the town of Riverhold. Apparently there was a blue Khajiit here but he left to seek his fortune years ago. He and his brother were abandoned at the orphanage and later adopted by a local couple. This all happened a long time ago. Inigo and his brother are likely grown men by now. Alas, his parents recently left town with a trading caravan. I must speak with them. I'll follow their trail and see if they know where their son is. From what I've heard his foster parents are strange, but pleasant people. I'm sure they'll help me if they can. Inigo's brother is called Fergus and Inigo's mother is called Leah. Oddly, his father is Argonian. His name is Da Vinci.
A tragedy
I found the trading caravan this morning among a litter of corpses. It has been ransacked. Everyone is dead. Damned bandits! The filthy thieves paid a price though. At least 16 of their number were killed in the attack. I wept when I found Leah and Da Vinci. They died holding hands, heads resting brow to brow. Poor Inigo and Fergus don't yet know the tragedy that has befallen them. At least they have each other. I found Da Vinci's journal by the side of the road. Its pages hold so much love for his wife and sons. I will find a quiet spot, dig a grave, and lay the valiant couple to rest away from the crows and rats.
May they find peace and joy in the afterlife and may they hold hands for eternity.
Inigo is the one
I am certain Inigo is the champion I have dreamed of. I returned to Riverhold and passed on the news about Lea and Da Vinci. The townsfolk were both saddened and shocked. They have no idea where Fergus and Inigo are, but word has been sent through what conduits exist in the hope they will be found. Since returning here and telling the tale of how I discovered and buried their parents, the locals have been more forthcoming with tales of Inigo's past. It seems he and his brother became heroes here in their teens. The town was overrun by a swarm of migrating giant spiders and three people died. When everyone else cowered in their homes, the boys and their parents ended the rather nasty insect infestation with ease. Da Vinci's journal backs this up. People say that it was Inigo that led the charge and that he killed 15 of the beasts by himself, laughing all the while! I can't wait to meet him. All I know is that he and Fergus were headed to Cyrodiil. Maybe I'll strike out in that direction and try my luck."
...So Langley really hadn't had anything to do with the death of Inigo's parents, after all. Cura sat up in her bed with a finger on her lips as she considered that perhaps she was too quick to judge the brash mage, herself.
She found herself going back over that one verse again and again, however: "A Khajiit that should not be, he escaped death in his first year, and has been successfully eluding it ever since." The line bit hard and made her heart sink. Poor Inigo. She couldn't imagine what that must have been like, living with that stigma in his homeland due to having Blue fur. How terrible.
His blue fur didn't matter to her; she loved Inigo just the way he was. Those people are the ones who missed out on having a fun, outstanding friend.
She closed the journal and placed it back in her bag. She would return it to Inigo tomorrow, because now it was time to sleep. Her eyes were burning and strained, and her throat felt tired and lumpy.
She lay down at last and pulled the covers over herself. She ended her day by prayer to the Divines.
Stendarr be with us, Cura concluded her prayers before drifting off to sleep; her last refuge in these dark times.
