The night was long, and the morning quick. As Cura slummily lifted herself out of bed, she sooner than not ran into Florentius when she made her way upstairs. He was sitting at one of the dining tables and seemingly talking to himself.
"Hello, Florentius." Cura greeted. "How... are you?"
"Ah, my Hero, Vigilant Cura! Arkay bids you welcome, and I too, as well." Florentius raised a tankard. "I knew you would be up at this time. Arkay told me."
"I'm... sure he did." Cura was shifting uncomfortably. Maybe he could be telling her the truth. Who was she to question it after all that she's learned?
"Don't feel saddened for your comrades, my friend! Rejoice! For Arkay, and the great Stendarr have welcomed them into their collective light!" He threw his hands outwards with great enthusiasm.
Cura twiddled her thumbs. "That's good to hear." She walked over to the bench nearby and took a seat, and bowed her head towards the shrine of Stendarr, and in that moment, Vigilant Moric came inside, his hood covered with bits of snow and sleet, wooden logs held on his broad shoulders. He brought them over to the firepit in the back of the Hall and dropped them in.
Keeper Carcette exited her bedroom and immediately saw him. The Keeper had a look of indifference, with a slight bit of disdain in her eyes, but she quickly turned towards the shrine, showing her back to Moric.
Moric noticed the coldness and walked up the aisle. When he noticed Cura, he waved to her. Cura reciprocated, and stood up quickly. "Good morning,"
Keeper Carcette looked over her shoulder and pretended to not notice the interaction.
"Keeper, I've restocked the firewood." Moric reported. "Should last us a few days, I think. I carried in twelve logs this morn'." He gestured towards the large pile beside the back wall. He seemed to be earnest in his declaration.
"Good, thank you." The Keeper kept it short and quickly returned to her meditation.
Moric was dumbfounded, and more than a little offended. "It's colder in here than it is out there." He remarked harshly. It was clear that the Keeper harboured resentment towards him for years, since he had left everything in her hands and ran off across the Empire.
Cura was silently observing.
Keeper Carcette turned around, and her face was one with eyes of stone. "Then perhaps you'd better leave again. Don't think that chopping firewood is enough to earn forgiveness from me."
"..." Moric fell silent. He simply walked to the back of the room and sat on one of the further benches, and began to eat a loaf of bread in silence.
Cura turned to Carcette and stood beside her at the table. "Keeper, why do you dislike him so much? Excluding his strangely-arranged priorities?"
"That's about it. If I could just up and leave like that and dump it on my right hand, life would yield so many options of freedom." Carcette stated. "A Vigil Keeper's duty is sacred! Day and night, we pray for our troops, for our lands. We mete out tasks, we provide a safe space to relax and unwind for Nomadic troops. We maintain our Order wherever we locate. He shirked that duty and poured it onto me. He prioritized his own personal fame over the maintaining of our Hall. He claims to have been setting up connections, but I've not heard of any."
She placed a hand on Cura's shoulder. "You've done more for this Hall in the last two weeks than Moric has in the last twenty years."
Cura lowered her eyes to the floor in momentary thought. All she wanted was to see the Vigil succeed. While Moric's methods were questionable, she believed that he genuinely wanted what was best for the Vigil, but sought to do it his own way, which wound up cutting ties with this Hall.
"Doesn't Stendarr want us to forgive? It is a facet of mercy, after all." Cura asked.
"Forgiveness is more closely tied to Mara." Carcette rebuked. "One can show mercy to their enemies. Forgiveness takes love, of which I have none for Moric Sidrey."
Cura shook her head. "Well, Keeper, I'm going back to Whiterun. I just wanted to let you know."
"Ah, of course, Cura." Carcette waved her off. "Go on, and Stendarr be with you."
"With you as well." Cura bowed politely. She waved to Florentius, who was still eating, and Moric as well.
Lydia was outside of the Vigil already, and seemed to be waiting for Cura, who gave her a nod of assurance.
Cura and Lydia returned to Whiterun once more, and the Redguards' words from yesterday rang in her mind about Saadia and her secret past. The Breton had decided to leave it alone, but it did make her wonder more about the average person.
Everyone carried some kind of secret, benign or damning.
She wondered about her own secret: who were her parents? A Nord and an Altmer, to be certain. If one were to heed the text of Racial Phylogeny, her mother was certainly the Altmer-her Aldmeri traits were plain to see and very obvious.
Could her Father have been one of the Stormcloaks? Or her mother one of the Thalmor? Or perhaps it was something more innocent; a Nord Thane spending a cold night with a High Elven woman?Cura wondered extensively, from the moment she had learned that Keeper Carcette was not her mother.
Were her parents criminals?
Perhaps they were fleeing the authorities and her mother left her at the Vigil.
Lydia noticed her distraction and spoke up on it. "What troubles you, my Thane?"
"Hmm? Oh, nothing much, Lydia. Just relaying my thoughts of events to myself." Cura meekly shrugged. "So many things have changed."
"They have." Lydia stated. "We're part of the Companions now! We will reach the heights of fame and glory!"
"I just want to learn how to control myself, and to be able to help others in any way I can." Cura admitted.
"You've been feeling pretty aggressive lately, huh?" Lydia wondered. It was true that her Thane had been very high-strung as of late, especially her little demonstration back in Ruunvald. The young woman had Dragonfires burning in her own soul in the most literal sense, and Lydia could not even imagine how that felt.
"I have." Cura admitted. "I was going to kill Vilkas yesterday."
Lydia fell silent. That was unexpected of her.
"I'm going to take that anger out on a mission, I think." Cura stated. "Find a way to channel it... maybe I can do a mission where I have to take on an escaped criminal, or the like."
"We'll see what they have in store today." Lydia stated plainly. "But first, there is something that I have to ask: do you intend to do something with all these Dragon bones and scales, or are you going to make me carry them into the grave?"
Cura paused to think. She had forgotten all about them. "Maybe we can sell them." She mused.
"Good. Belethor's General Goods Store is just around the corner." Lydia pointed to the building beside Arcadia's Cauldron, across from the Bannered Mare.
"Belethor." Cura repeated. "Is he a Nord?"
"A Breton, like you." Lydia stated. "But not from here."
"Ah, all right." Cura walked inside the store, and held open the door for Lydia.
A dark haired man with a ponytail in a green tunic stood behind the counter. "Everything's for sale, my friend. Everything. If I had a sister, I'd sell her in a second." He said with a laugh.
"I'd even buy one of your relatives, if you're looking to sell! Ha ha ha... That's a little joke."
Cura was almost happy he hadn't had a sister. It was more than likely a joke, but one could never be too certain. She stepped forward to the counter.
"So, what brings a Breton to Skyrim?" Cura made pleasant conversation.
"Isn't it obvious? Why, the wonderful weather and hospitable people, of course! Not to mention my great fondness for dragons and petty political power struggles. Ah, but without a doubt, the most compelling feature of this frozen wasteland is the volley of inane questions leveled at me on a regular basis." The Breton man leaned forward on the counter and put on his phoniest crocodile smile.
"...Sorry I asked." Cura responded with an eyeroll to his backhanded sarcasm.
"Foolish questions begat foolish answers." Belethor snarked. "Now, are you gonna buy something or what?"
"Sell, actually." Cura gestured to Lydia, who hauled her bag over her shoulder.
"Lovely." Belethor's tone plummeted. "What is it, a cup? A pair of filthy shoes?"
"Dragon bones and scales." Cura stated, and gestured her head towards the counter, prompting Lydia to take the heavy Dragon remnants out of the bag and place them onto the counter.
Belethor stared in shock momentarily, but quickly regained his stoic composure, so as not to allow Cura's pride. He then decided to offset. "Can't believe a Breton enslaved a Nord in her own homeland. Heh." Belethor chuckled. "We really are the superior race."
He spoke, of course, about Lydia's servitude.
"What? No, Lydia is my Housecarl." Cura corrected. "I'm a Thane."
Lydia snarled at Belethor. "Yes, and if you know what's good for you, you'd never make a remark like that again. Skyrim belongs to the Nords!"
Belethor was taken aback momentarily. Clearly his jokes were a waste with these two. "Ah, I see. The Thane: Dragonborn Vigilant Breton girl. I bet you think you're special, huh?" Belethor sneered. "Most of us common folk have to toil in the dirt below your majesty to earn a Septim, but all you have to do is scavenge dead Dragons and make a quick fortune."
He accepted the parts, and handed the insulted Cura a coin purse. "2600 gold. Do come back." His lilting tone sounded more of a mockery than anything, but Cura simply brushed the jaded shop owner off and left.
"What a Skeever." Lydia stated. "I'd heard he was sleazy, but wow " The Nord wondered how Belethor managed to stay open with his attitude towards his customers.
Cura led the way to Jorrvaskr, when she saw Vilkas and Farkas speaking. When they noticed her presence, the two stopped and Vilkas walked over to her. "Hey, Whelp. Did you hear the news?"
"What news?" Cura raised her brow.
"Apparently a Vigilant was found dead near Swindler's Den this morning. Blonde, wearing a hood and white robes. Know anything about that?" Vilkas crossed his arms and leaned against the cobblestone wall at the top of the stairs.
"What?!" Cura exclaimed. "What happened?"
"Go to the Hall of the Dead and talk to Andurs." Vilkas instructed. "He's doing an autopsy."
"You won't like what you'll see." Farkas said plainly in his low, gravelly voice.
Lydia looked at Cura in shock. "You've been busy making enemies, I think. Just going to make my job that much harder, huh?"
"It's not intentional, Lydia." Cura stated. "It just... happens."
The pair crossed the wharfs and walked past the Temple of Kynareth, and Lydia showed her the Hall of the Dead.
When they entered, they saw a bald man with a gray beard in a Monk's habit examining the corpse of a blonde Breton woman wearing an Amulet of Stendarr.
"What happened to her?" Cura immediately demanded. She stepped up beside him, and the Priest offered his condolences.
"She was a friend of yours? I'm sorry.."
Cura nodded and held her own amulet between her fingers, giving it a light and gentle twirl. "How... did it happen?"
"The grooves in her flesh were made by curved swords." Andurs informed, his expression fallen. Indeed, the Priest was correct: the blood-soaked grooves gnarled the flesh, rinding it from the bone in certain places; beneath the left set of ribs, across the breasts, along one of the arms, and vertically down te right thigh. The lacerations ran deep, and Cura could even see severed blood vessels when she stared deep enough. This Vigilant's death was not a gentle one, and she certainly put up a fight until the end, judging by the broken vessels underneath the skin of her right palm, suggesting a very tight grip on her mace.
Cura leaned her head back and took a deep breath. It was the Alik'r Warriors. They were the only people who had curved swords in Skyrim. They must have mistaken one of the other Vigilants nearby for her. It could sometimes be difficult to distinguish between them, after all.
"Has the Vigil had issues with the Redguards?" Andurs asked as he tried to wipe some of the excess blood off his hands
"I'm going to make sure." Cura exited out of the Hall of the Dead in a dash.
Lydia followed, and quietly demanded knowledge. "My Thane, do you know anything about this?"
"I met the Alik'r yesterday." Cura confessed. "While I retrieved Amren's sword from the Swindler's Den. They made a proposition to me that if I turn in Saadia, they would reward me. I declined and left. I can only assume that they tried to assassinate me at the Shrine of Stendarr due South, but got the wrong girl."
"My Thane..." Lydia placed two fingers on her brow, as if to soothe a headache. "Oh, my Thane... why did you not accept the offer?"
"Because I don't wish to involve myself in Hammerfell's politics. I'm caught between Imperials and Stormcloaks as it is."
"But you're a Breton! Politics are what you live for!" Lydia exclaimed.
"The Bretons of High Rock, perhaps." Cura dismissed the stereotype. "I, Vigilant Cura of the Pale, wish to avoid them whenever possible."
"And now what?" Lydia thrust out her arms. "Are you going to let them get away with this?"
"They probably think I'm dead now." Cura stated. "Maybe walking away would be the best option."
"But would that truly be just?" Lydia egged her on. "Whatever you wish to do, I will follow, but I don't think they should be shown mercy for this. They murdered an innocent woman in cold blood."
Cura fell into silent thought. Perhaps she should take vengeance upon them for attempting to kill her, and avenge her fallen Sister-in-arms. But then again, it was not uncommon for Vigilants to be killed in the fields, as her friends had heading into Eastmarch before she was accosted by the Empire.
Keeper Carcette should be the one to decide. Surely, she'd be receiving a letter concerning the event.
Cura turned to Lydia. "The Keeper will mete out justice. I'm not getting involved with this." She waved her hands forward. "Unless there are no other options."
Lydia shrugged. "Suit yourself. If they believe you to be dead, you would have the tactical advantage; the element of surprise."
Cura considered it for a moment. "Well..." She scratched her chin and took a moment to come to an answer, and then finally released. "They did kill one of my people, with no good reason."
Lydia nodded. She was hoping to spill a little blood herself.
"And we are allied with the Hold of Whiterun." Cura mused.
Lydia's eyes opened, aroused with expectant excitement.
"I'm going to do what they probably feared I'd do..." Cura stated. "I'm going to report this to the Jarl! He'll place a bounty on their heads."
Lydia's face fell. "Oh."
Cura turned towards the stairs to Dragonsreach, and headed inside. Sure enough, within the forum, another Vigilant had already beaten her there, and he was speaking to Proventus Avenicci.
Irileth glared at Cura from the other side of the room, and Jarl Balgruuf signalled for her to approach.
"Greetings, my Jarl." Cura bowed forward.
"Greetings, Thane." Jarl Balgruuf spoke cordially. "I hear of some messy business to the West involving your Order. Don't worry; Proventus will bring down justice on those Bandits."
Bandits?
"Bandits?" Cura was surprised.
"Aye, the ones who robbed the Vigilants. They killed one of you, as well in their search for gold."
"What did they look like?" Cura needed to know for the case of certainty.
"You'll have to ask your comrade over there. He saw the entire ordeal." The Jarl pointed to the Nord Vigilant who was talking to Proventus.
When their conversation ended, Cura approached him. "What happened, Vigilant Arctor?"
"Out in the fields, near our Shrine, we were assaulted by some brigands. We managed to fight them off, but one of ours was killed in the scuffle. Vigilant Louise Marcel."
Cura's eyes grew more disdainful. "Were the brigands a troop of Redguards?" she asked, ready to head down to the Swindler's Den and spill their blood herself.
"One Redguard, a Breton, and a couple of Orcs." the Vigilant corrected. "Probably thought we actually had valuables on us. Snowbacks."
Cura's blood silently grew cold momentarily as a chill ran down her spine. How close had she been? In a moment's notice, she would surely have fought the Alik'r for it, as Lydia suggested. Thankfully, however, her voice of reason won the battle this time. A warmth festered within the Breton. Peace. Relief. Thank Stendarr.
"I see. Did they perish in the fight?" she inquired, needing to know.
"No, they got away." Vigilant Arctor confessed. "The Jarl's placed a bounty on their heads. They show up again, and they're done for. 1000 gold is quite a sum."
"That it is." Cura muttered, recalling her carelessness with gold.
The other Vigilant nodded. "Be safe, Vigilant Cura. The roads are treacherous these days. May Stendarr's merciful hand guard you from those who would wish to do you ill."
"Thank you, and you as well." Cura stated as she parted from his company.
She rejoined Lydia. "Am I happy that I stayed true to my intuition and decided to not heed your words!" She snapped at her Housecarl. "You would have killed those innocent to the crime!"
"The Alik'r didn't do it?" Lydia asked.
"No! It was a group of Bandits! One of them was a Redguard. Could it not be possible that..."
She paused for a second.
The Alik'r were holed up with Bandits.
Perhaps they were not so innocent, after all. She hurried back to Vigilant Arctor, who was just leaving the castle.
"Was the Redguard wearing a turban and a red and black set of clothes?" She demanded.
"...Yes." Arctor raised an eyebrow. "It was odd to see him in a desert garb."
"I guess he's like the fool in the dungeon." the Whiterun guard next to the door scoffed.
"Fool in the dungeon?" Cura inquired. An interesting bit of information, indeed.
"An Alik'r warrior." The Guard further elaborated, which simply confirmed Cura's suspicions.
"Thank you." She said as she walked past the guard and out the door. After some searching, she walked around the moat of the Castle and came to a door on the Eastern Tower, which she presumed led to the dungeons. When she turned to Lydia, the Nord smugly nodded.
Perhaps Lydia was correct, after all. Maybe she ought to introduce those Alik'r to her voice.
When they entered and walked past the initial guard room, they saw an entire chamber filled with cells with classic iron bars. Parallel to the vestibular area was a cell with an Alik'r warrior within it, donning their signature garb, and incredibly conspicuous as a result.
"So, you're one of them." Cura narrowed her eyes as she approached. "You've been casing a bit of a ruckus here in Skyrim."
"My life with the Alik'r is over now, but I have no wish to die in this gods-forsaken land." The Redguard spat as he approached closer to the bars and gripped them tightly in his scarred hands. He looked to the Breton with near-pleading eyes, which he did his best to obscure. "If I can be released from prison I may start over. I can probably run to Valenwood or Black Marsh. Or maybe Elsewyr."
"I'm going to free you, and I'm going to take you to your Leader." Cura's face was grim.
Lydia was a little confounded by this. Why would she free the Alik'r Prisoner? Would that not be helping those who tried to kill her, potentially?
"I have dishonored my brothers by being captured, and so they have left me here." The Prisoner spoke regretfully. "Kematu is not one quick to forgive."
"Oh, I know." Cura said with an unhindered sulk. "But... I'll see if I can patch things up with you. Maybe then he'll be more cooperative."
"You have a death wish, then? You must know to meet him would be to meet your end." The Prisoner parted from the iron bars and crossed his arms with a condescending glare directed at Cura.
Cura's doubts were twisting in her mind, as Kematu could very well have sent an Alik'r warrior who attempted to kill her and the potential witness Vigilants, but botched it due to her not being present, and confusing another Breton for her. But, on the other hand, perhaps that Alik'r warrior was a deserter, much like the one before her.
"How long have you been imprisoned?" Cura asked.
"The last four days. Why?" The confused Redguard skulked to the side of his cell.
That ruled him out.
"I'll pay your bounty and have you released. I'm a Thane of Whiterun, I'll have you know." Cura boasted.
"100 gold will secure my release. You can afford that, can't you? I suppose you'd better hope you can, if you want my help, or whatever stupid plan you have. Get the money into the hands of one of these guards, and I'll go with you." The Prisoner waved her off.
Cura headed over to one of the Guards, who seemed to be falling asleep in his chair. "I want to release the Redguard prisoner. Here is 100 gold."
"Eh? Hrrrm... fine. You want to free that sneaking rat, Thane?" the guard gestured to the cell.
"Yes. I need him for... reassurance." Cura's eyes grew more suspect, yet had an eerie calmness to them.
"Fine." the Guard took the money and walked over to the cell bars. "Today's your lucky day, lowlife. Your Fine's been paid. You should be thanking Stendarr or whatever."
The Prisoner looked annoyed. "Just let me out of here!"
The guard made an audible noise of irritation from his throat as he put the key in the lock and twisted it.
Cura had doubts in the back of her mind: what if it was a coincidence and a bandit stole an Alik'r's garb, as well?
Stendarr, she prayed silently. am I rushing into this? Am I supposed to be involved with these people?
The thought was as heavy as the dungeon air.
The Redguard was released and he approached Cura. "So... you met with Kematu, did you? You know about Saadia, then. Surely he would have informed you of our mission here."
"And Saadia is why you got arrested." Cura bounced back.
"Yes... they wouldn't let us into the city, so I tried to sneak in.
"And Kematu left you." Lydia chimed in, her tone as irritable as ever.
"Because I was clumsy enough to be captured. Kematu always says we're supposed to be the best of the best. I wasn't."
The three of them exited the dungeon and entered the main city.
"Was Saadia a criminal?" Cura asked him.
"She betrayed our people. Sided with the Third Aldmeri Dominion." the Alik'r prisoner put it straight.
"So... it is true." Cura mused. It would explain his imprisonment. Perhaps she could believe that. Still, she needed the truth, which she intended to get from Kematu himself.
The Prisoner looked at her strangely, and Cura gestured to the front gate.
Eventually, after some walking in the field, the pair arrived at the Swindler's Den. A dark draft emanated from the small cave.
Cura stated behind the Alik'r warrior and Lydia stayed behind her, as a Guard for potential threats from the back.
The Redguard was shocked, seeing the seared and bludgeoned corpses of the Bandits. "Wow..." he managed to squeeze out. "that's... brutal."
He turned to look back at the Vigilant, and looked forward once again. Soon enough, he reached a small cavern with a large ravine and waterfall, where he saw his fellow Alik'r.
"Ziawe?" one of them spoke up. "How did you escape Dragonsreach?"
Immediately, Cura wrapped her arm around the Alik'r prisoner's neck and pulled him back against her. He began to squirm and struggle, but this Breton woman was unusually strong.
"Kematu!" Cura bellowed. "I wish to speak with you!"
Immediately, from out of the shadows behind Lydia, Kematu emerged, his Scimitar drawn. Cura now realized that she could not turn around to face him, lest she be slashed from behind by the Alik'r who were in front of her. She was flanked to the left by the small ravine. An escape, if need be.
The Breton glared to the Warriors before her, and Lydia stood at her back, facing Kematu. Cura's eyes wandered to their furthest left corners as if to look behind without turning from the foes ahead.
"A life for a life." Cura spoke to Kematu, as she held the Alik'r prisoner's throat tightly, causing Ziawe to gag. "His life hinges on your answer, so answer me truthfully and with integrity, or I will either carry out Stendarr's mercy, or his justice."
"That depends on the question." Kematu spoke sternly. "This fool no longer means anything to us. He was a failure."
Cura's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" then she quickly shook off the distraction, and returned to her original point of contention. "You tried to have me killed, didn't you?"
Kematu scoffed.
"Answer my question!" Cura tightened her grip on Ziawe.
"You're hardly in a position to demand things of us." Kematu said with a sneer, reminding the Breton that she was utterly surrounded by Alik'r from the front, and back. "But I'll answer you honestly. No, I didn't try to kill you. If I had, you would not be here right now."
Cura fell silent.
"I know who you are, you know. If a Companion and Thane of Whiterun mysteriously disappeared after accepting a quest that brought her to our hideout, investigations will ensue, and surely the Jarl knows where we've been camping out." He gave a dirty look to Ziawe when he said this. "And we're so close to apprehending that traitor that compromising our location would ruins everything."
"Then who killed the Vigilant that looked much like me, using a Scimitar, wearing your garb, at the Shrine just two yards away from here?" Cura wasn't buying it.
"Perhaps it was those Bandits." Kematu shrugged. "We got into a fight with a few of the Bandits in the den before they allowed us to hole down here. Maybe a few of them came back with a vengeance, wanting to turn us against the Dragonborn?"
It held some sense to it. Cura pondered all that had been said, and decided ultimately to release Ziawe from her grasp. The Redguard fell to his knees, gasping for air.
"Mercy it is, then." Cura closed her eyes. "My apologies-it's just become so commonplace for people trying to kill me these days."
Kematu chuckled. "Guess it makes sense. Vigilants of Stendarr aren't the most well-liked folks in the world. I guess some people are freaked out about the Dragonborn being one of them."
Cura nodded, and dusted the cavernous dust off her robe. "So... you're really desperate to capture this Saadia." She was hoping that perhaps they could place water under the bridge, so to speak. After all, they hadn't killed that Vigilant.
"I told you what she's done." Kematu readdressed. "The people of Whiterun don't want to allow us inside, and we need to apprehend her. 'Saadia'- or rather Iman of House Suda, needs to pay for her crimes."
Cura pondered a bit. "You're certain it's her going by the name ' Saadia?'"
"Yes. Others in our faction have noted seeing her in Skyrim, and eventually have tracked her down to here, in Whiterun." Kematu explained. "If you can, convince her that we'll be coming for her, and she needs to leave. Lead her to the stables outside Whiterun. We'll be waiting to take her into custody. I'll gladly share a portion of the bounty in return for your efforts in seeing proper justice done."
"Fine. I'll see what I can do." Cura shrugged. "But I'm not promising anything. After this, may we go our separate ways."
"Good. We'll be waiting for you at the stables. It will be good to finally be able to return home... And we'll put this unfortunate incident behind us." Kematu said with a nod. "Mercenary's Honour."
'Mercenary's Honour.' There is an oxymoron only toppled by 'Thief's Honour.'
Cura walked past Lydia, and then Kematu. Lydia exchanged a glare with the Alik'r leader as the pair passed by him and headed down the cavern. Lydia turned to Cura. "That... could have gone dangerously. You may be Dragonborn, but you're not immortal, my Thane."
Ziawe finally caught his breath and pulled himself up off the floor, ready to face his Brothers-in-Arms.
"I, er, I can explain..." Ziawe grunted nervously.
"She might belive in Stendarr and his Mercy, but we don't." Kematu sneered at him.
"I'm sorry I failed-I just-" Ziawe was then silenced when Kematu raised a hand.
"If you want to rejoin the Alik'r, you'll have to undergo the greatest pain you've ever felt in your life; to strengthen your resolve. Otherwise, you can remove that outfit and begone." Kematu spouted a flat ultimatum.
Ziawe looked at the faces who glared at him with disgust, making him feel far smaller than he was. The Redguard swallowed his resolve. "I'm going to return. Brand me well."
"Good." Kematu ushered him to the next room with a friendly grin as another warrior took out a Scourging whip.
Cura and Lydia returned to the Bannered Mare in Whiterun, where Saadia was out in plain view, sweeping the floor behind Mikael. Cura identified her quickly and approached with caution as the Redguard woman quickly shifted a glance at her, and pretended as though she didn't notice her presence.
The Breton cleared her throat and approached her near. "Did you know some Alik'r warriors are looking for a Redguard woman?"
"Are you sure? Oh no! They've found me? I need your help! Please, come with me. I need to speak to you privately." She quickly scuffled off to the side and headed past the kitchen and up the stairs. Cura followed her and left Lydia behind at the main hall.
As soon as Cura closed the door behind her and followed Saadia to the third room on the right, the Redguard woman pulled a dagger out defensively. "So, are you working with them? You think you can take me? You so much as touch me, and you're going to lose fingers. I mean it! I'll... I'll cut you in half!"
"You're not cutting anything with that little dagger." Cura said with lighthearted mockery. "Calm down and we'll talk."
Saadia paused for a second and reluctantly sheathed her weapon when she saw that Cura was unarmed. Her knees began to shake together and the Redguard was terrified all the same. "I'm sorry, just... Just don't hurt me. I know you're not one of them, but you just can't help them. You can't let them know I'm here. Please, will you help me? There's no one here I can trust."
"It's all right, just stay calm. Explain first." Cura motioned with her hands with a gentle push to the air, as if to remind her to breathe.
Saadia took in a deep breath and then exhaled, and looked around for a moment to collect herself. "I am not the person that the people of Whiterun think I am. My name is Iman. I am a noble of House Suda in Hammerfell. The men who are looking for me, the Alik'r, they are assassins in the employ of the Aldmeri Dominion. They wish to exchange my blood for gold. I need you to root them out and drive them away before they find me and drag me back to Hammerfell for an execution."
"Why would assassins bring you back to Hammerfell for an execution?" Cura noted the obvious discrepancy. "Hired assassins would simply kill you and bring back a trophy to their employers."
"Mercenaries! I meant Mercenaries, damn it!" Saadiaplaced a hand on her forehead. "Please, I didn't do it, I swear! I only vented against the Elves!"
"Have you gone to the Guards for help?" Cura asked out of the blue.
"You think I'd be in hiding if this was something I trusted town guards to handle? These men are ruthless. Cunning, deceitful... they'll pay off whoever they can. I can't trust anyone here in Whiterun. Guards and Jarls can be bought. And the Alik'r are close; I'm running out of time, so I'm choosing to trust you." Saadia pleaded.
"That makes no sense." Cura shook her head. "The Guards won't even allow them into the City. In fact, one of them was caught sneaking into the City the other day, and was arrested. And Jarl Balgruuf is a man of integrity. I sincerely doubt anyone could bribe him like that. Especially in this day where he has to maintain general caution due to the Stormcloak uprising. They're very particular on who they allow through the city gate."
Saadia was growing antsy. "The Thalmor want to kill me. How can I be sure you're not a Member of the Aldmeri Dominion?" Saadia jumped to a conclusion. "You've clearly got some Altmer heritage, Breton!"
"If you're afraid of the Thalmor, why would you decide to hide in Skyrim?" Cura asked. "Skyrim is supposedly in the midst of a Thalmor inquisition against Talos worship right now, while other provinces like Morrowind, High Rock, and even Black Marsh would have had a smaller Thalmor presence."
"What am I supposed to do?!" Saadia raised her voice. "Please, you have to kill them! You're a Vigilant of Stendarr, aren't you? The-the necklace?" She gestured towards Cura's outfit and Amulet. "Show me Mercy, please! Kill the Alik'r! Slaughter them brutally! Break their spines like you did to Idolaf!"
Cura shook her head. How nice of her to bring that back up. "There are too many of them, and they're going to Storm the city. I suppose the most merciful thing I can do for you is ensure your escape."
"Then what are we waiting for?!" Saadia snapped as she began to run ahead. "Get me out of here!"
"Whiterun Stables." Cura informed her. "We'll get you to Markarth, and from there we can cross the highlands into High Rock. I know someone there who can help you."
"Right, you're a Breton!" Saadia earnestly believed her. "But... High Rock is just the Iliac Bay away from Hammerfell..."
"We don't have time to debate. Like I said, I know someone who can help there." Cura felt a little guilty lying to Saadia--or rather, Iman. But she has done awful things and must be held accountable. Stendarr demands the guilty be held accountable for their crimes, after all.
Cura and Saadia reached the main hall, and she gestured for Lydia to come with them from the bar counter. The Nord reluctantly peeled herself from her ale and followed them out.
Saadia anxiously followed Cura outside the city gate, and walked down the curved path and drawbridge, past the Khajiit Caravan that was parked on the side of the road.
They headed to the Stables, where Saadia finally caught her breath. "Okay, let's get going!" She said.
Cura stood still, as if zoning off into space, and Saadia shook her arm. "Hey! Come on, let's go, already!"
Cura refused to respond.
"What on Nirn is wrong with you?!" Saadia snapped. "Take me out of here, gods dammit!" She began to shake Cura harder. Lydia then withdrew her sword, and pointed it at Saadia, which confused and concerned her further.
"We meet at last, my dear lady." A masculine voice came out from the stable house behind them. It was Kematu, and he was slowly clapping his hands.
Sadia was taken aback in terror. "What is this? What have you done?"
Cura turned her face to her, and remained silent.
Kematu laughed and walked between them, as Cura moved out of the way, closing the distance gap. "Oh, come now. You didn't really expect to manipulate people forever, did you? Your luck had to run out sometime."
"You bitch!" Saadia shouted at Cura. "They're going to execute me!"
"Or imprison, if you're fortunate." Kematu sneered as several more Alik'r began to close in on her. Saadia began to cry and plead, and Kematu cast a paralysis spell on her, effectively sedating and subduing the criminal. "We'll let the Court handle your fate." He then turned to Cura. "Thank you for your trust. I am eager to return to my homeland."
Cura nodded. Maybe now she could put this entire ordeal behind her.
"Here, something for your trouble." Kematu tossed her a Coin purse, which contained 600 gold. "500 for helping us catch this criminal, and 100 for helping one of our own. Hopefully he'll learn from his mistake."
The Redguards took Saadia off the floor and loaded her in a carriage hidden behind the building.
"And, maybe put in a good word for us with Stendarr." Kematu asked. "Hammerfell needs all the Justice it can take."
Cura nodded. "I will."
Kematu gave her a salute as he pulled the reins of the horse and their carriage pulled a U-turn and raced down the path, leaving behind dust and silence.
Lydia looked at Cura with a calm, and accepting expression. "Good thing we didn't fight them, I guess."
"Yes." Cura stated. "I don't know about you, Lydia, but I think I'm going to need a drink after all that."
"To Jorrvaskr, my Thane?" Lydia suggested.
Cura nodded, keen on the idea. "I suppose so. I'm going to be there anyway."
The pair decided to take their leave and made their way back into the City.
