Crossing Paths

Ariadne gritted her teeth, pressing herself against the fresh grass, blades poking into her cheek. Right behind this little knoll, there was the accursed voice of that bastard Calisto Larouche, obviously bragging to his toadies, even if she couldn't make out the words.

Sissel, laying right next to her so that their noses almost touched, mouthed a hushing gesture. "They can hear your grinding!" she whispered. Taunting her, even now, and completely deadpan.

Behind Sissel, Ariela lay on her back, her eyes wide, staring at the sky. Ariadne found herself glancing skyward herself, to make sure a pack—a flock?—of dragons wasn't upon them. Nope, just the sky. Girl just isn't cut out for this.

Sissel, pressing a finger to her lips, then inched up the slope for a looksee.

"What are you doing" Ariadne hissed, without effect. The scholar still stared ahead, breathing heavily, looking like she was having some sort of fit.

Ariadne muttered a curse. Some company she was stuck with.

The good news was, they hadn't had to look for Calisto. As they'd been nearing Fellglow keep, the sonofabitch had ridden down the road with two underlings. He had very nearly seen them too, before they'd slunk out of hiding here. It was only through Sissel's excellent instincts that they had managed to evade the threat. The woman might have been a royal ache in the posterior when you tied to get something out of her, but she was definitely someone to rely on.

Except maybe at moments like this. Why did she have to go nosing about!

Fully expecting Calisto to spot the fool at any moment, waiting for his cry, Ariadne closed her eyes with one fist squeezed so tight her nails bit painfully into her palm. Gods, how she would have liked to sink that fist into that beautiful, accursed face of Calisto's! Given the chance, she would not have stopped there. She wanted to make him pay!

Ah, that's my girl! Now, let's hear more of what you would do!

She opened her eyes with a scowl. Where did that come from?

She started as Sissel skidded down next to her. "Hey!" the woman hissed. "We have to go!"

"What? Go where? Where's Calisto?"

"They're past now. We'll wait a minute longer to be safe, then take off."

"Take off where? After them?"

"I need to see!" Ariela suddenly cried, crawling up the hill in spite of Sissel's attempt at stopping her.

Sissel hissed. "Too dangerous to follow them. We need to go to Faralda, let her know it's time."

"It'll be too late! Who knows how far he'll be by then! Who even knows where he's going?"

"One of the henchmen mentioned the Rift."

"That's doesn't much help! We need to follow them!"

Sissel shook her head. "Too dangerous."

"Too dangerous? Two of us can take him, easy!"

"I would not count on that. And we have no idea how capable his companions are."

"Still!" Ariadne insisted.

"No!"

"I agree with her," Ariela said as she slid down.

Sissel looked pleased. "Thank you—"

"I mean Ariadne."

"What!"

Ariadne grinned. "She's the smart one, you know."

Ariela seemed to blush at that. Silly girl.

"Look, both of you, this is no game. If Calisto—"

"Uh-oh," Ariadne said, giving Ariela a grin. "Aunt Sissel's about to give us a lecture!"

"I'm about to bend you over my knee!" Sissel said. "Don't think you'd be the first."

Now it was Ariadne who blushed. Damned woman!

"We have to follow him!" Ariela said urgently. "I feel it. We absolutely must." She gave Sissel a sober, surprisingly resolute regard. "I don't care if you come along or not. I'm going."

Sissel studied the younger woman hard, as though trying to figure out if she could stare her down.

"I'm with you!" said Ariadne, and Ariela responded with a heartened smile.

Sissel turned that hard look on Ariadne, and soon seemed to reach a conclusion. She sighed. "I can see there's nothing I can say to change your minds."

Ariela shook her head. "This is more important than us. I don't know how I know that but trust me."

Sissel studied the scholar. "Aye," she said then. "I do. Against all my better judgment, I do."

"Are you coming?"

"No. I must report to Faralda. And pray it's not too late."

"Let's get going then!" said Ariadne.

"Just promise me," Sissel said, grabbing her by the collar of her robes. "That you won't let yourselves be seen!"

Ariadne glanced down at the hand. She nodded, looking the woman square in the eye. "We promise. Don't we, Ariela?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, of course."

Ariadne grinned. "See?" Then again looked down at Sissel's still gripping hand.

Just a little disgruntled, Sissel let go, giving a nod. "That'll have to be good enough. And immediately when you find out where he's headed, you run like the wind to return to the College! Alright?"

"Alright," Ariela said.

"Yeah, whatever," said Ariadne.

Sissel gave her head a critical shake. As if to say, kids!

She mounted, shot them one more severe regard. "Just make sure I don't have to go to my grave with your deaths on my conscience." And without waiting for replies, she rode off.

They watched her distancing for a little while. Then Ariadne gave the scholar a grin. Slapping her shoulder. "Just to two of us now, huh, girlfriend?"

Ariela frowned.

Runa spat.

The Breton fellow—Oscar, maybe?—had been nice enough to look at, and equipped with passable "bedside manner," but the taste of him still lingered in her mouth. Oddly sour, somehow! Still, she wasn't complaining. A bit tipsy after two, six shots of Colovian brandy the word was looking a shade brighter. Didn't hurt being satiated between the legs, either—even if she'd had to use her own hand to finish. But then his tongue had offered a nice backup . . .

Okay, ol' girl: time to focus again and think about the—

Fuck. Yeah, guess it wasn't going to be leaving her alone was it? She'd still have to think about how to orient herself to this new life—one hanging by a hair's breadth on account of the Nightingale's goons undoubtedly eager to give her their compliments on work well done.

Bashnag, you owe me big time! Gods, I hope you'll prove to us all it was worth it!

She had to stop there. Even Runa was not so conceited as to convince herself of her own noble motivations. She had wanted to take the honor all for herself simply because she liked the idea. What they would be saying about her! Runa Fair-Shield. The slayer of the Nightingale. The craziest, most dangerous bitch in all of Tamriel!

Loved by few, hated by many, bedded by most. Killed by her own goddamn arrogance.

She spat again, this time out of irritation. Her own mind could not even let her have a moment's worth of pride.

But there was no getting around it, she would not be able to figure this out all by her little self. And try as she might avoid the natural conclusion, she'd be needing advice from her wise ol' mother. Yeah, Maren would definitely have some idea of what to do. Once she was done scolding Runa for being a reckless, thoughtless, suicidal piece of moronic, undiluted stubborn stupidity, that was.

But deep down, Runa knew, Ma would be proud of her!

So she gave Frost the spurs, headed west.

Erik tipped his head in greeting at the two women passing him on the road. He only meant to polite, but the young ladies giggled as if he'd made some grand courting gesture. He did not let that confound him, but instead smiled his most pleasant smile and rode on, resisting the urge to look back.

With a not an altogether unpleasant feeling, he gave a sigh. For reasons he'd never been quite able to figure out, women had always tended to look favorably upon him. It's not like he was handsome or anything, and he'd never had money to speak of, let alone taste for nice clothes. Of course he was the rugged warrior-type and well-muscled and somewhat scarred but not in the way to make children cling to their mothers' skirts, and even he wasn't utterly clueless about how that tickled many women's fancy. But there were plenty of men like him, and not all of them were received the same way. Why women seemed to like him in particular, he honestly did not know. But no one heard him complaining!

There's more important things to worry about!

He sighed again. This time out of boredom. He had never particularly enjoyed lonely rides. With no one to talk to, his thoughts had a bad habit of running away with him, and seldom in directions he much cared for. In fact, he rarely enjoyed spending time alone. For some, that seemed to come naturally, but he had always been more natural in company. To be in my own thoughts had always seemed like such an alien wish to have. Like, what good was that? What was it about the company of your own thoughts that was so desirable for folks? He, he'd always found those to be boring company at best, disturbing at most.

Did this make him shallow? Frankly, he could not be bothered to care.

He was just passing Whiterun so that meant several more hours' worth of riding before he reached Riften. Even going there was just a good guess, as that was most often where you found Runa Fair-Shield when not on an adventure or just carousing. Of course there was a good chance he'd come up empty but at least folk there often had some idea of her whereabouts. That is, if anyone did. But it was better than nothing. He really had the distinct feeling that the woman was what he'd need in dealing with these bandits. If there was one person to turn to about a possible larger gang of outlaws, it was her. She went everywhere and knew everyone, it seemed. She'd have heard something and would probably have an idea what to do about such things.

Perhaps it was a bit ironic that he looked up to Runa these days. After all, it had been him who'd initially taught her to effectively fight when she was still a kid. He had been working for Maren for a couple years by then, having taken up residence at the Lakeview Manor with a host of other warriors. Back in the day, Maren Dragonheart was still at the height of her strength and widely feared. Incidentally, she was then also widely hated by bandits and other evildoers, so needed people to guard her as she prepared to focus more on business, having started to tire of the constant bloodshed of the warrior lifestyle.

Erik had always regarded Runa as the little sister he'd never had. But little siblings grow up, and Erik was man enough to admit that by her teen years that girl had surpassed him in skill. And most certainly she'd earned herself a reputation all across the province whereas his name was more or less utterly unknown. He was more than fine with that, as he'd never learned to thirst for honor, let alone notoriety. Honest, albeit violent, work and adventure for decent pay, a roof over his head, plenty to eat and a belly full of mead, those had always been enough for him.

Did this make him a bit simple?

Erik shrugged to himself, then greeted some other passersby, these being a group of priests of this or that deity. They returned with perfunctory pious nods. Passing them, he thought he caught a whiff of wine.

He raised his eyes to the clear blue sky. The day proved to be a glorious one, and if it hadn't been for the unnamed sense of worry in the back of his head he would have no doubt felt quite happy. Summer had always been without a doubt his favorite time of year and this year it had come delightfully early.

He was a simple man with simple pleasures. Yes, there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, in a world so full of folk intent on—

His thoughts were cut short as he saw something ahead. His mouth came open just a little bit.

And his heart leapt at a most unexpected feeling.

Ariela gnawed her nails, then realized what she was doing and quickly drew her hand away. One way to keep some rein on her nerves, she'd found, was to refrain from all the associated nervous bodily behaviors. She actually found that helped her cope, though honestly not by much. But she had to take her triumphs where she could.

Ariadne rode back from where she'd been scouting. Bareback on her black mare, Arcana, graceful as though born on a horse. How did she manage to make it look so natural, when Ariela's bony behind was aching terribly even on an expensive saddle? Clearly the young woman was made of far finer material than she.

Ariela suppressed the acute sense of envy as the mage reached her. "Well?"

"Course clear. They're out of sight, up the road toward the Rift. As expected."

Ariela nodded, feeling nervous. Well, she almost always felt nervous, but now especially so. This was her first time tracking someone, and she was certain that you'd be hard-pressed to find a single soul less fit for such a task. Constantly convinced that they would spot her any moment. That she was probably just being led into a trap.

Shading her eyes with her hand, she gazed toward the city of Whiterun in the near distance. She would have much rather been safe within those sturdy walls. Riften had been the first place she'd seen in Skyrim, and despite its natural beauty, she could not say she had much enjoyed the place. Perhaps that had more than a little to do with that fact that the area was under the rule of that supremely unlikable witch, Maven Black-Briar.

"So," Ariadne said, drawing her back to the present moment. "Whenever you're ready I guess. Like, if you have nothing better to do."

Cheeks burning and without comment, Ariela spurred Lucky on to ride after the mage.

At least the strange feeling that had overtaken her as soon as they'd run into Calisto was finally starting to fade. She could not explain it, and the farther away from her the feeling got the harder it was even to remember. Like a dream. And she felt that it also related to the dreams she'd been having lately. Those evaded her memory as well!

Was this a sign of some sickness coming through? Was she beginning to lose her mind? Was the pressure finally starting to get to her?

Why did you fly from home, little bird? This world is not for you. You are too weak! Prey for the strong, that is all.

Suddenly nauseous, Ariela tried to resist the urge to retch by taking a few deep, settling breaths, letting her eyes wander in the natural landscape surrounding her and trying to clear her mind of all thought.

That was far easier said than done, of course.

The leaves! focus on the leaves.

She scanned the rich foliage of the lush birch trees growing by the road. Really looking, trying to make them fill as much of her consciousness as she possibly could. It seemed to work. Steadfastly keeping at bay the disturbing thoughts that tried to bubble to the surface, she instead submerged her attention in the natural beauty of her surroundings.

It had always been one of her favorite things to observe, the different ways in which light filtered through leaves. Different seasons, different time of the day, anything that altered the light's angle, had its distinct feeling and mood. Was it that it reminded her of the transience of all things, that bitter-sweet melancholy that went with it, or something else? Perhaps she simply enjoyed the ambience.

Yeah, you're one to keep things simple, sure enough!

The foreboding returned. Did she always have to be so hard on herself? In fact, had she always been so hard on herself? She didn't quite think so. It was almost that the longer she had spent in the trap of her own fears and doubts, regarding her place in the world and all, the more her own mind was turning in on itself.

It can't go on like this. I'll drive myself insane at this rate.

"Ariadne!"

Ariela frowned. Somehow she had never made the conscious decision to open her mouth. But she realized she needed conversation, to distract herself from her inner turmoil. Even Ariadne would suffice to that end, although she always found it so difficult to find things to talk about with the girl. They were just so different.

Maybe we don't need to be?

Oh, gods, what now. What does she want from me?

Ariadne made sure to roll her eyes before she turned to meet Ariela's. She even tried on a cordial smile of sorts, with no idea of how it actually looked on her face. Based on the scholar's frown, perhaps it wasn't entirely successful. "What's up?"

"Uh, well. How are you feeling. . . about . . . all this?"

Biting back the remark which immediately sprang to mind, Ariadne cocked her head. "Care to be more specific?" Uh, maybe just a bit too sharp.

"Well, you know."

"No. No, I don't."

"I mean, you and Calisto. Eh, I mean, I don't mean to imply . . . er, anything. But, seeing that . . . " She trailed off.

Oh gods, please stop! This is getting super awkward. "I mean to kill him. Just as I said. I don't care how I felt about him . . . before. Everything's changed." She couldn't help feeling a bit surprised how naturally she had gone there. But by the Divines, she'd had to do something to dig the scholar's foot out of her mouth before she got it in any deeper.

"I see."

"I'm glad."

"But what if, you know, you can't?"

"Kill him? I can!"

"How do you know?"

"He's good. I'm in no confusion about that. But I'm better. I know it. He has raw skill, and in that he may even surpass me. But I have a . . . I don't know. A way of feeling the magic, that I believe sets me apart from almost anyone I've talked with. And I just don't believe he has that. He's too coarse. Hope I don't sound too arrogant?"

"No, no," Ariela hurried to say. "In fact, I find that refreshing about you. You . . . make no apologies. And I do mean it in the best sense."

What other sense could you mean it in? "Thanks, I guess." Well now, suddenly, Ariadne felt awkward again.

Not as awkward, however, as the scholar's smile was. "Don't mention it. I admire you. I wish . . . I don't know. Take a page from your book."

How is it, woman, that you manage to drag super-awkwardness back whenever I manage to push it off? Ariadne forced a smile. "Follow along, and maybe you will." Gods, now she really did sound obnoxiously arrogant!

"I will," said Ariela.

"Well, you've no choice, really. Unless you want to go after Sissel alone."

Ariela seemed to give a shiver. "I really don't. Plus, I need to know where this is going. It's really important, I can somehow feel it in my bones. And I need to be there. Come what may."

"Just make sure to stay back when the action starts."

"No need to worry on that account!"

There was a pause, as Ariela seemed to hesitate.

"What is it?"

"Just . . . maybe not kill him before we find out?"

"I'm not going to be stupid about it. I can bide my time." Ariadne grinned fiercely. "I'm going to enjoy it!" At that last utterance, she felt an unexplainable dark joy budding somewhere deep within her. Made her feel dirty somehow!

The scholar seemed a bit taken aback as well. "Uh, okay."

Ariadne cleared her throat. "I mean, he has it coming."

"Yes, sure. Sure. Of course."

Ugh. Awkward.

It was back to silence between them.

Ariela tried her best to just forget about the sudden discomfort she had gotten around the young mage. But she could not deny it: that flash in the woman's eyes that she'd seen, no matter how ephemeral, had deeply shocked a part of her.

I mean, I know she's a person of violence, and I've known plenty of those by now, and spent enough time near them to be realistic about the complexities of the psyche: how the same person can be perfectly good-hearted and kind and yet capable of brutality. But still . . . It had felt almost external to Ariadne, that emanation of darkness and spite, of vicious intent and delight in destruction and death.

Is that simply the darkness that lives inside us all? Is that why we can sometimes do the things we do? All the atrocities?

She had to take a deep breath as she suddenly felt faint. Coinciding with that was a sense of deep self-doubt in her own soul. It's your weakness shining through! You cannot handle this reality as it truly is! The likes of Ariadne, they have what it takes. They are the ones who will inherit the world to come. The strong. The cruel.

Ariela shook her head. "No," she muttered. Ariadne was strong, but she wasn't cruel. Ariela knew the girl enough to say that with conviction. That was perhaps precisely what had so disturbed her. The alien sense that she had gotten. Can I say with confidence that I truly know her? That I truly know anyone? That I know myself?

There was that almost-laughter in the back of her head again. Speaking of alien.

I think too much.

She tried again, with mixed success, to concentrate on the natural beauty around them. There was predictability in nature which, despite the obvious horror of it, comforted her. Compared with the almost unnavigateable—was that a word?—terrain of the minds of self-aware beings, there was something there that you could rely on.

Crossing a bridge, she did not have to force herself to look at the glimmer of the water passing lazily below. Water was one of her favorite elements, and the way sunlight highlighted it never failed to calm her mind. If only she could make her mind like it, just flowing, unproblematic. Nothing could break it.

There were of course techniques, used by mages and mystics, to make the mind as the—

"Ariela!"

The unexpected cry, which she for an instant took for Ariadne's before realizing its unmistakably male quality, not only took her surprise but caused a most unsettling flutter in her belly. She would recognize the voice anytime, she realized.

When she turned to look, the flutter became a thing of the past.

No fluttering for a stomach suddenly finding itself upside-down.

The strangest feeling, which he told himself was simply surprise, wallowed in his stomach as he approached the women with a broad if oddly ill-fitting smile on his lips. "Ariela! It's Erik. You still remember me?" Only then did it occur to him that she might actually not. Arrogantly he had just assumed that of course she would still remember him. But they had only known each other for a couple days and a couple years ago at that. Being a good deal younger than him, such a stretch of time surely felt a lot longer to her.

To his pleasant surprise, then, the young woman returned his smile, saying, "Erik! It is you. Of course I remember! In fact, I've been wondering how you are doing."

Really? "Oh," he said. Not really able to think of anything. Suddenly feeling really stupid.

"Um," Ariela said. "Yeah."

And they stood there, three horses and riders, an uncomfortable silence blooming between them.

Great, now you made her feel uncomfortable. Idiot! Say something! And make it good!

But Ariela went ahead. "So, uh this is Ariadne. She's . . . a mage."

Erik had barely paid attention the other woman. Now that he good a look at her, the first thing he noticed was how beautiful she was. And how young, probably one to three years senior to Ariela.

The second thing he noticed was cemented into his mind the second she opened her mouth. "A great pleasure to meet me, I'm sure," she said with the haughtiest smile he had ever seen.

He raised his brows. "Uh, hi." He couldn't think of anything else to say, but honestly he really didn't much care to, either. He turned back to Ariela. "So, what brings you here?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Ariadne the mage seemed to be sulking somewhat. Well, that's her business.

"Well." Ariela hesitated. "A sort of mission."

"Ooh? What kind of mission?"

"That really is our business," chimed in Ariadne. As he met her gaze, she gave a strange smile. "No offence."

Erik flashed her his best big grin, one used for charming snakes and other unpleasant creatures, not one devoid of mockery. "I never take offence."

"Good for you."

"Aye. So," addressing Ariela again, "can I offer my assistance?"

Ariadne scowled. "I thought I said—"

"Please," Ariela interrupted the scowling mage. She smiled shyly at Erik. "She is right, however. Best you don't get involved."

"Aye?" Erik offered a grin to sour Ariadne first, then to the scholar. "Well, now you've got my full attention!"

"So it would seem," muttered Ariadne. Or at least that's what he thought he heard.

"You don't understand. It's . . ." Ariela looked to blush a little.

"Dangerous?" Erik spread out his arms, almost wincing over the showiness of his own unpremeditated gesture. As if he were saying, woman look at this frame! "Don't you think I know a thing or two about that? I mean, come on, you're not talking to a librarian." He thought he saw a flash of irritation in her eyes. "Uh, I don't mean to imply that you are. Or . . ." Gods, why did he feel like a callow lad all of a sudden!

"It's okay," Ariela said placatingly. "I get what you mean. And of course, it's not that. It's—"

"It's mage-business, sword-boy," Ariadne said. "A little out of your league, maybe. The likes of you tend to just get in the way."

He narrowed his eyes. "What is your problem!"

"Well, let's see, what could it be?" She pressed a long finger over her full lips, in mock thought.

She really was beautiful, Erik was loath to admit. Perfectly proportioned features, a proud nose and full lips, eyes black with passionate fire, and that flowing dark hair falling onto her slender yet strong shoulders. A tall and dexterous body. Looking at her gave him a certain feeling. Reminded him of how tired his body was—

"Hmm," Ariadne concluded, "maybe it's the fact that here we're minding our own business, when suddenly mister Steel-for-brains Noseypants comes out of nowhere and starts to—"

"Ariadne, please!" Ariela interrupted, looking horrified.

But Erik was already laughing. "Oh, I like you! Kind of." Except not really.

"One of those decidedly one-sided feelings," replied Ariadne icily.

Erik shrugged. "Well, I'm headed the same way as you. You can't stop me."

"Oh, rest assured that would hardly be a trick at all."

Ignoring her, "And Ariela and I, for one, have some catching up to do. So certainly you would not turn down my company?"

The little scholar looked unsure. Erik felt an almost irresistible urge to reach out and hug her. Careful there, buddy . . .

"I . . ." Ariela said.

"Look, I promise not to try to butt in. You may keep your mystery; once we're to the Rift we may go our separate ways. I have my own business to conduct anyway. Looking for Runa, in fact."

"Oh." Ariela's eye lit up. "I've been wondering about her. How is she?"

"Eh," he said with a shrug. "Same as always, I'd say. Tell you the truth, I don't see her all that much these days. Busy girl, that one. Always was." He couldn't help but worry about her was what he left out. But that's how it had always been. Family, you couldn't help but worry.

"It'd be nice to see her again," Ariela said.

"I'd bet she would like that too. Hey, maybe we can all meet up, once all this is done." He glanced at the surly mage. "Whatever all this is."

Ariela smiled. "I think . . . I would like that."

Erik smiled back.

And Ariadne cleared her throat. "This is all very sweet. But there's still certain . . . well, certain business in need of taking care of. So, maybe, possibly, if you two would just in any way see it was possible, we could, maybe, keep going before the . . . thing gets out of our hands."

"Of course," Ariela said.

"So, we are in agreement?" Erik said. "I'll accompany you for the time being?"

Ariadne rolled her eyes. "Seems that short of frying you to a crisp, we can't stop you, as you say." She gave him a look no doubt meant to be warning. "But don't think I wouldn't fry you if I thought it necessary . . ." She gave a nasty grin. "Or fun."

Erik rolled his eyes in turn. Laughed. "Interesting company you keep getting yourself into, Ariela."

The young scholar went red.