Chapter XX – The Golden Stag

There was one good thing about what happened to Gandrehel.

After her unexpected confession in her house, Bishop, Aeyrin and her were all chained and brought to the garrison. Gandrehel even got her nose healed by a priest there, but guards remained in her mansion to collect evidence.

Aeyrin and Bishop were still worried during the questioning. She could change her mind about fessing up. Everything could become more complicated if she suddenly changed her story. But they had no way of knowing that. So they told the only thing they could – the truth.

Not the complete truth, of course.

Bishop said Gandrehel invited him to her house and Aeyrin admitted that she saw him enter. The guards did ask why Bishop went in at all, but fortunately they were satisfied with the explanation that he needed some information from her, unrelated to the poisons.

They had to tell the guards about their soul gem rings and how they worked. They were useless now, of course. Such a damn shame. But who knew what would have happened if Bishop didn't shatter his? The guards were satisfied with their explanations of the rings' working and with Aeyrin showing them her extinguished one and Bishop his shattered one. They did want to keep the rings as 'evidence', though it was obvious they were more interested in selling them to some interested mage. But who actually cared? The rings were useless and if someone wanted to study the technique, there was nothing bad about that. It was nothing harmful.

The rings were taken and Bishop and Aeyrin were kept in the garrison for an hour or two after that, still chained and waiting. Apparently the guards were questioning Gandrehel all this time.

It was an excruciating wait, but after someone approached them, they were finally released. Of course, Aeyrin did get fined a hundred drakes for taking matters into her own hands, despite the guards' understanding. She still broke into the mansion and beat up Gandrehel.

But they were just happy with that result. Gandrehel was going to prison, apparently, which didn't exactly feel like vindication anymore. Not after it became clear that all her actions were born out of fear of Duful.

But that was the good thing about her fate, no matter how odd it was to think about it this way.

From prison, she would have no chance to contact Duful and warn him about Bishop looking for him – no matter how afraid she was of him.

At least they hoped as much. Corrupt guards were always a possibility, but hopefully Gandrehel would feel safe enough in the prison not to bring more of Duful's attention to herself.

And all that should at least remain true until Bishop finally found the clan. He knew where they should be now.

The two of them spent one more night in Cheydinhal after their interrogation, before they headed out into the wilderness again. Bravil wasn't very close, but they should get there in two days' time.

It wasn't very comforting though.

Aeyrin had been dreading this ever since Gandrehel uttered the word. Bravil. She shuddered just at the thought of that.

She had only been in the city once. And it was enough for a lifetime. She never hoped to return there.

But there was no other choice. They had spent so much time here chasing after the clan, she could not refuse to continue now when they were likely close at last.

The one night they could spend in the wilderness was a blessing before they had to settle in that awful town. And for the first time ever, she actually welcomed the full Secunda approaching soon. That meant one thing – no matter what, she could not stay in Bravil longer than one night. Not before she needed to leave and distance herself from everyone.

She could do one night, right? One day, one night. That would be fine.

Everything would be fine

…

"Here we are, the ass-end of Cyrodiil. I am not even a little surprised they came here," Bishop sighed as he looked over the city once they passed its wooden gates. It looked the same as he remembered it eleven years ago.

It was a fucking dump.

The buildings were falling apart, the streets were filled with beggars, skooma addicts and cheap whores, and the air was filled with the stench of that vile river that people used for everything, including bathing and throwing out trash. Bravil was the center of all squalor. Anyone without a septim ended up here sooner or later. The same was true for his family.

"Have you been here before?" Aeyrin asked quietly, trying not to draw much attention to them as she clung to his side. She couldn't help it. She felt like hiding from all these sights the second they passed the gates.

"Tons of times," Bishop growled. "This city is shit. But… it's a place to disappear. And do shady business. The clan was here a lot."

That made sense. This kind of place attracted… their kind, probably. Even if there wasn't anything to steal here, not really. This was probably a good place to fence their hauls or to… do whatever the clan did. Aeyrin didn't really even know the details.

"What about you? You've been everywhere, right?" Bishop questioned her in turn. She did visit all the cities on her pilgrimage.

"Once. I wanted to see the chapel here," Aeyrin nodded. She did not care to talk about it much further.

"Right. The chapel of Mara. Another reason we came here. Rina loved to go there and spew her bullshit at the worshippers," Bishop scoffed disdainfully.

"Oh. Right. What… kind of stuff did she do? What did she tell people?" Aeyrin was still not sure if she understood his mother's… religion. She knew about the whole 'mate with all the races to gain Mara's approval thing' but that was about it.

"A lot of bullshit, that's what," he growled. "She kept going in the temple, telling the people there that priests wanted all Mara's love for themselves and taught the whole shit wrong to the commoners. Told them they just wanted it for the rich and shit. She kept spewing that the only way to get Mara's favor is to spread love everywhere, but she just thought that meant to fuck as many people as possible. And she also loved to say that the only way to save anyone's children for Mara's realm was to teach them the same things. That those that didn't wanna be taught were lost already and there was no point in raising anyone not dedicated to Mara. The priests tried to shut her up, but they had the whole 'don't turn anyone away' thing going on there, so they couldn't even throw her out. Some of those idiots fell for her shit and started to avoid the temple. Some just pretended to fall for her shit so that they could fuck her. It was just… fucked up no matter which way you look at it," he let out a long sigh.

Aeyrin only nodded thoughtfully. That was definitely not what Marans stood for. Never for mistaking sex with actual love, whether romantic or friendly or familial, and definitely never for neglecting the children that didn't want to follow the same path. And the thought of priests trying to exclude poor people… that was appalling. The church of Mara here was the only good place in this Oblivion-forsaken-Void.

"Did any of you follow the teachings?" She asked curiously. Rina was so intent on her children following the same path – was she even successful?

"No," Bishop scoffed. "I mean… not really. Look, she said a lot of bullshit, we all hated her, hated each other, but sometimes she could be persuasive. Nobody was a Maran. Not a real one and not like the one she claimed to be. That was all just her. But sometimes she said some shit about how things were meant to be or should happen and… some of my siblings liked some of those ideas. Like the way she was spewing about Zenithar and his followers. Of course, she would, he's the God of honest work, right? She had never done anything like that in her life. But… she kept thinking that if she prayed to him, he would leave her a fucking fortune or something. And when there was no fortune after a week of praying to him once a night, she got pissed. And she told everyone that priests of Zenithar keep all the God's riches to themselves. Kari liked that. Torban did too, although he didn't believe it. He just thought it would be a good idea to check if the temple in Leyawiin actually had any riches. And Kari… she thought that killing a priest of Zenithar would be just revenge."

"Did she really?" Aeyrin's eyes went wide.

"Kill a priest? Yeah. She's not a warrior or anything, but anyone can wait in an alley and strike when it's convenient. We had to leave Leyawiin after that, of course, but Rina was actually a little proud," Bishop shook his head.

"That's… horrible," Aeyrin shuddered.

"Hmm… not that bad, considering everything. But… that's enough family stories," Bishop grumbled. "Let's just… try to see where they are."

"Do you have any idea where to look?" She looked around the area again reluctantly.

"No. It's been ages since I've been here with them and there's tons of abandoned old houses and shit. They could be hiding out anywhere. Or outside the city too. We gotta find out from someone. Best bet would be the Lonely Suitor across the river. If it's still standing."

Was it? Aeyrin had no idea. She stayed at one of the inns, probably the one by the gates, but she tried to block out all memories of this city since. Bravil was just the worst. And now they had to traverse the whole town just to get to the inn?

She clung to Bishop again as they started to walk through the filthy streets and alleys. She couldn't help but look down on the people in the squalor around them, lying there in their drunkenness, deliriums or just on their knees, begging anyone in passing for coin. If she didn't know all too well what the money would be used for, she would even take pity on them. But right now, this was all getting her too uncomfortable.

"What's up with you?" Bishop raised his brow at her when she flinched again when one of the locals almost brushed up against her as he passed them.

"Nothing… I uhm… just… don't like this place," she sighed.

"Who does? It's a shithole. But not the first one we've been to," Bishop shrugged noncommittally, apparently still intent on getting an answer.

"I just… worry about being here. After… everything…" she sighed, looking into the distance where a group of people were fighting over something in their haggard and delirious state. She was especially worried about Bishop searching for his family again and leaving her alone. She felt particularly needy to cling to him right now, as if she really shouldn't be left without 'supervision'. What if something snapped in her? What if something about this horrible environment made her crave the reprieve from it in those delirious feelings?

"You mean after Kvatch?" Bishop scowled a bit. "I thought you were feeling better. What are you worried about?"

"I… I am better," she spoke nervously. She wasn't sure how to explain it. "It's just that… I still remember what it felt like to… want it back. That… feeling. And… seeing all those addicts here, reminding me of what I could have ended up like if…"

"You know I would never let that happen," Bishop squeezed her closer to himself. No matter what needless doubts she had about her own strength, he would be there if only to reassure her again and again.

"Yeah. Thank you," she sighed, nuzzling into his side as they continued to walk across town. She knew. But it scared her a little how much she counted on that fact. That's why being away from him here was so terrifying. It was time to concentrate again on why they were here. "Don't you think you would have seen some of your family running around if they were here?"

"Not necessarily. I could, but sometimes they do some shit and keep low until it passes. Sometimes they only come out at night. Like vampires," he chuckled a little meanly. "No sign of any of them yet, but that doesn't mean they're not hiding out around here."

"And you don't know who could be their contact here? You said you've been here a lot," she continued. Anything to get this done faster.

"No, not really. The last time I was here with them, Torban pissed his old contacts off and double-crossed them. It's been eleven years, I have no idea what they were up to here in the meantime," he shrugged.

"So we're going to ask the innkeeper again?"

"Probably. I don't know where else to ask. And Gandrehel wasn't really… talkative about where they went," Bishop sighed.

It wasn't much to go on, but it was the only plan they got.

…

"Here's your lunch," the Orc grunted as he tossed two bowls of something that was supposed to be stew in front of them.

There wasn't much else to order in this place. This was the only thing that sounded edible. The ale was stale, they didn't even dare to order wine here and now the food looked like it's been a leftover from two weeks ago. And it smelled that way too.

Bravil was just as bad as Aeyrin remembered.

The Orc innkeeper was unpleasant, but they had no one else to talk to in this place. And the other patrons looked even more grumpy and hostile.

"Hey, I have a question," Bishop stopped the man before he could move away from their small table in the corner of the room.

"What now?" The Orc growled back at him. Bad start, but maybe some coin would loosen his tongue down the line. Bishop was going to try just talking first though.

"I'm looking for someone," he began.

"Why you askin' me? Go ask the Stag," the Orc snorted.

"The what?" What fucking 'Stag'?

"The Golden Stag. He knows everything going on around here. You need information, get some coin ready and go ask him," the man shrugged disinterestedly.

"Alright. Where's this… 'Golden Stag'?" Bishop narrowed his eyes. What kind of a fucking name was that?

"Ugh… across the river in one of the dens. The one right opposite that fucking church," the Orc grumbled. "That all?"

"I… guess," Bishop shrugged. Well… this didn't go great, but if this man knew everything that happened in this city, he could know about the clan. More than this Orc, likely.

The Orc left at last and Bishop looked back at Aeyrin. She looked kind of freaked.

"A… 'den'? Does he mean…?" She bit her lip nervously.

"A skooma den. Probably. What else would it be here?" Bishop let out an exasperated sigh. Not a place he was exactly thrilled to go to, but what else could he do? "Don't worry. You can just wait here and I'll be back with the information soon."

"Uhm… I'm not… sure…" Aeyrin spoke quietly. This was… unpleasant. She really didn't want to be left alone right now. But then again… going into an actual skooma den…

She really didn't know which option was worse, but she couldn't help it. For some reason, she didn't feel much better about letting Bishop go there alone. And without the soul gem ring.

No, this was the best option. She would handle it somehow when she had him.

"I… I don't want us to separate right now, please?" She gave him a pleading look.

"Really? For this?" Bishop gave her a concerned look. Did he not think she could handle going there? Maybe she couldn't. Maybe he was right to worry.

"You think I shouldn't… go to that place?" She asked carefully, though she was feeling pretty discouraged already.

"Not for the reason you think," Bishop shook his head. "You can come if you want to, it just doesn't sound exactly like a fun trip. And I know what you're thinking, I'm not worried about you in that place."

Alright. It didn't sound fun at all, but she really didn't want to be alone. If he wasn't worried about her, she could do it.

"I wanna come with," she nodded resolutely.

Bishop only nodded in return. He really wasn't worried about her being near skooma addicts or skooma itself, and he knew she needed the reassurance. But he was still worried about finding his family. Maybe even in that den.

Hopefully that was not the case though.

On top of all this, he wasn't even sure if he was ready to see them.

…

It seemed like Bravil couldn't get any more depressing.

Until they were forced to really look at the nasty image it presented.

The local skooma dens were not a place anyone but the addicts and their dealers went in voluntarily. Maybe not even the dealers. If they were anything like Ri'zhassa, they would like to keep mostly away from the 'filth' and have them crawl to him for their next dose.

Why the 'Golden Stag' would be here was anyone's guess. Was he another addict? If so, his information would surely be suspect.

Maybe they could find another lead, if that was the case.

At the very least though, there was no sign of Bishop's family in this place. At least not those that he knew. The four new additions he wouldn't recognize. And there were a few children around, mostly trying to wake up some delirious wretch, though one of the children was in the same state as the other addicts. That was a horrifying sight.

It wasn't a great place to even walk through safely. Some of the people weren't capable of even getting up on their feet, but some were. Bishop and Aeyrin didn't take anything with them. Bishop only grabbed fifty septims into his pocket, though he really hoped the information wouldn't be that expensive. That and his hunting knife. He walked with it brandished threateningly, chasing off any of these wretches that got too close, and with Aeyrin clinging to his other arm.

He was really getting worried about her even walking through this place. It was a bad idea. Not because he thought she would be tempted, that was just ridiculous, but it only seemed like she was reliving her childhood nightmares. It felt like she was shaking the entire time and every time one of these wretches moved, she flinched. Even more so when they got anywhere near her.

The den led through the upper floor of several buildings, with rickety walls and floors barely holding together. It was longer than anyone reasonable would have wished, especially since there was barely any space there unoccupied by the addicts.

But finally, after the arduous trek that felt longer than it had any right to, they spotted a man at the back of the last ramshackle room. He was sitting on a crate, above everyone on the ground, as if it was some kind of a status symbol. He looked nothing like the rest. He was an Altmer, with his hair not thinned considerably, his cheeks not gaunt, at least not more than usual for an Altmer, and his eyes not darkened or red. He was not one of them.

There was an Altmer woman half-lying next to him, leaning on his crate. She was mumbling something like all the rest of them in their deliriums and unlike the 'Stag'. She did have those telltale signs on her face. It could be any other addict, of course, but the man kept holding one of her hands in his – there was clearly a connection. He was here because of her.

Aeyrin looked at the scene in shock. It was both outrageous and understandable at the same time. She couldn't fathom why he would stay here with an addict instead of taking her away and helping her. But… she remembered the helplessness of trying to just… get her father another dose so that he would calm down again. She was a child though. With no other options or ideas about the world. He was an adult man!

But… maybe there were other circumstances she had no idea about. Maybe there was another vicious dealer leaving them no other option. She knew all too well that this spiral was never clear-cut and simple.

She gripped Bishop's arm tighter before they headed towards the man. Gods, she just wanted to get this over with. Seeing these people was making her sick to her stomach. Maybe she should have really stayed at the inn alone. She felt so pathetic, clinging to him like that, but she couldn't help it.

And it got only worse when she suddenly felt a hand trying to grab her foot when she tried to make a step.

She let out an instinctive scream – the way she was tense and wound up here, it was really inevitable. Most of the addicts didn't even seem to notice, though some of them grumbled or curled into a ball, covering their ears. The Golden Stag certainly noticed and he let out an angry growl, but that was soon drowned out by Bishop's own.

"Stay the fuck away from her," he barked at the man and aimed his knife right at him. The confused addict flinched away instantly and scurried back towards a wall with a frightened whimper. Aeyrin almost felt bad for him now. Well… not almost. She did.

"I just… wanted a few septims…" the addict whispered quietly, shaking on the ground. That was difficult to see. If Aeyrin didn't know that he would only spend those on more skooma, she would be inclined to give him some.

"What do you people want in this place?" A voice rang through the room promptly, hissing with anger. The Golden Stag didn't seem to like Bishop's approach.

"We're just here for information," Bishop sighed as he moved his knife away from the scared wretch again. "You the Golden Stag?" He didn't probably need to ask, but it was kind of automatic.

"I am. And information will cost you," the man nodded. He seemed somewhat placated when Bishop actually sheathed his knife.

"I heard," Bishop smirked. He wouldn't expect anything else, really.

"Why do they call you that?" Aeyrin couldn't help but ask. Also, it would distract her from the other people. She really needed that.

"Because I charge a lot of gold," the Altmer chuckled. "Also probably some racist reasons," he shrugged noncommittally. "What do I care why people call me what they call me?"

"But… why the stag?" Aeyrin prodded more. The 'Golden' part wasn't such a mystery after all.

"Nosy, aren't you?" He scoffed. "Many reasons. Maybe I'm just graceful and majestic. Maybe because I'm unmarried. Maybe it's just a Bravil thing. Like I said: what do I care why people call me what they call me?"

Well, that was an unsatisfying answer.

"Was that the information you came for?" The Stag smirked meanly.

"Obviously not," Bishop rolled his eyes. He did hesitate before speaking in front of all these people, but there was likely no other way. Besides, they wouldn't know whether it was really happening or whether they were delirious, right? "We're looking for the Thrice-Banished clan. They were headed to Bravil some time ago. What do you know about them?"

"The Thrice-Banished? I've… heard some things," the Altmer nodded. "You know, one good thing about staying here, no official shit would ever step foot here, so I know you're not a guard. But still… ratting out someone like that, that is gonna cost a lot."

"How much?" Bishop growled. Bravil was still a very cheap city. It couldn't be that much, right?

"Seventy drakes," the man determined.

Shit.

"I only have fifty," Bishop shrugged. He couldn't just magically produce the money right now. And he was not eager to go back for more and back here again.

"You're kidding, right? Look at yourselves," the Stag shook his head in disdain. Clearly they could afford more, only judging by their clothes.

"Yeah, we spend our money. We don't have more now," Bishop sighed in response. "Do you want fifty or not? I'll find out somewhere else if not." That would hopefully get him talking.

"Fine. Fifty it is," the Golden Stag nodded. "But you don't get all the information."

"Deal," Bishop fished out the coins and approached the man. He just hoped that it would be enough to go on.

"Good. Pleasure doing business," the Altmer revealed his white teeth in a grin. Another thing preserved, unlike the addicts around him. "The Thrice-Banished clan, they came in like a storm. Brought some goods, but one of them pissed some people off with those goods. I'm not telling any details here."

"Whatever," Bishop rolled his eyes. He didn't care about the shady deals. Just about their location. But the Stag didn't know that. Maybe he thought Bishop wanted information that would get the clan in trouble.

"They had to leave. Run. It was only a week ago. Someone mentioned they were heading south," the man continued, but then he only shrugged, clearly done with relaying his information.

Left?

They left again?

Fuck.

Well… maybe it was for the best. Dealing with them here was not ideal. And if they went south…

There was really only one place they would be heading to south. The Altmer was vague enough, but not vague enough to fool Bishop. He knew the clan too well. They brought watered-down skooma, some influential dealer was able to tell and then they had to make their escape before some lunatic thugs would strike against them. Bishop had seen this happen before a few times. The clan always tried this shit in Bravil. Sometimes it worked. And… it wasn't actually a bad thing – it was watered down, so less of that shit for the addicts. It was just the people paying for it that didn't appreciate the scheme.

"Thanks," Bishop ended the conversation there. He had what he needed. And he was kind of glad to take Aeyrin away from here, away from Bravil altogether.

Still, it was so fucking frustrating to keep missing the clan. They didn't usually move this fast. They stayed in one city for months at least, but it appeared as some circumstances and coincidences always kept them on the move.

He just hoped that their next stop would be the last. They had searched the entire Province for them already. The major cities at least. And there was one more left. One that was south from here. Bishop knew they tended to prefer the cities, even if they sometimes stayed around inns and villages. Cities were where the coin was. And the best contacts and opportunities. And even if the clan stopped for a bit on the way, they would eventually make their way there. He and Aeyrin could just wait for that. At least it was somewhere better than Bravil.

Leyawiin. Their next stop. Hopefully really the last.

The clan had left a week ago. That was… promising. But there could be another problem chasing them away, or anything really. And Bishop and Aeyrin couldn't really leave right now.

It was getting late and traveling now was pointless. One night in Bravil. Their room was already paid for after all, no matter how dismal. And then, there were other plans.

Tomorrow the full Secunda would be back and they had to make themselves scarce once more. Truth be told, Bishop didn't really mind the prospect of disappearing into a forest somewhere with Aeyrin. It would be a perfect respite from the squalor of Bravil, no matter how brief.

Even if it risked prolonging their endless chase.

…

Bishop and Aeyrin huddled together in the small bed at the inn.

It was old, creaky and not really comfortable. Maybe even putting their bedroll on the floor would have been preferable. But no matter. At least its small size forced them into a very tight embrace. Not that they couldn't end up in one regardless, but it was still a pleasant bonus.

"Feeling better?" Bishop asked as he brushed some hair from Aeyrin's face. Walking through the den was definitely not a great experience. Good thing it was only a one time deal and they didn't need to spend any more time in Bravil.

"Yeah," she nodded with a soft smile on her face. Bishop had been fussing over her all evening. He didn't seem all that bothered by his family being gone again. He did curse for a while when they left the den at last, but then he got over it pretty quickly. It was probably for the same reason why she was glad.

No more Bravil.

That alone made her feel better. The further they were from here, the better. And she was looking forward to some time in the wilderness, even though it would include three nights of the transformation.

It was… funny. She was getting used to them. Or maybe Bishop's demonstrations, no matter how ill-advised, really did make her feel better and more confident. She was still not going to risk anything on those nights, but… it wasn't as scary as it used to be.

Though that fact was maybe even scarier. How was not being scared of something scary on its own? That made no sense. Sometimes she hated these thoughts constantly making her feel like she needed to overthink it all to the point of being worried again.

"I'm just glad we can leave," she continued to murmur quietly in the small bed. It wasn't just the atmosphere – this was really not a great place to stay. Food was awful, they wouldn't probably get much sleep on the small bed and the drinks were bad too. The only good thing about this place was that it was cheap. Maybe it was better in the other inn, but she really didn't care to find out. "So… you're sure they'll be in Leyawiin?"

"It's… likely. I can't be sure, but they were probably headed there," Bishop nodded. "That's pretty good, right? Considering all the shit we've been through here. Not too many Thalmor, no excessive heat like in Anvil, no nosy counts, hopefully, and far from Kvatch and whatever the fallout is there. And we can actually stay away from the slums – the whole city isn't made of them." Leyawiin was a good city. He liked it there. And it wasn't too expensive either, even though it was nowhere near Bravil-bad.

"Yeah. I like Leyawiin," Aeyrin nodded. She did. And she was excited to go visit there again too. They've been to all the cities down south, even if only briefly in some. Though she could have gone without Bravil for certain. "But there was no 'excessive heat' in Anvil. Anvil was the best. After Chorrol."

"Heh. Right, well there will definitely be excessive heat here, the room's so fucking small," he sighed. And they couldn't even leave the window open through the night – they were on the ground floor. That would be just stupid. Anywhere, but especially here.

It might be a rough night, but Aeyrin was determined to focus on the good ahead.

Like Bishop's birthday. It was only in two days.

And she couldn't wait to show him the gifts she had for him.