The biting cold was kept at bay by Cura's gentle flame. The mountain range was coming to a close, and a wooden house sat atop a hill, beneath a Mountain.
After a long trek through the snow, it was a welcome sight.
Cura, filled with relief and joy, picked up the pace and began to sprint through the snow, up the trail. Lydia quickly dashed behind her in an attempt to keep up.
There were people wearing the same outfit as Cura, and some were tanning leather on racks, and one was chopping firewood on a stump.
Lydia locked eyes with one of them, and he glared at her with a near-hateful expression.
"The mercy of Stendarr does not extend to Daedra-worshippers." he stated.
"I'd never worship Daedra!" Lydia exclaimed defensively.
"Then you won't have any trouble here." the Vigilant said, and he continued chopping wood.
Cura headed inside, and held the door for her. Inside, another Vigilant passed Lydia, and gave her a dirty glare, as the outsider.
Lydia thought they were incredibly rude, for Paladins. Ordinarily, they would set out to defend the innocent, not harrass passersby. From the colder atmosphere inside the Hall, Lydia could tell Cura was the heart of the organization. She felt like a doe who wandered into a Saber Cat's den.
Keeper Carcette was leaning forward on her table, bowing her head before the Shrine of Stendarr.
As soon as Cura saw her, she approached her joyfully, but with caution. "Keeper, I've returned!" Cura announced, snapping Carcette out of her trance.
The older Breton quickly turned around. Lydia could see what Cura meant when she said they shared a slight resemblance. Though, Carcette looked much meaner than the round-faced Cura.
"Cura!" Carcette exclaimed as she embraced her protégé. "I thought I'd never see you again!"
Cura reciprocated, and decided to play along. "Why, Keeper?"
An embrace was one thing Cura needed more than anything.
"I received word that you were under attack in Helgen!" Carcette explained. "Is it true? Did... did you really face a Black Dragon?"
Cura nodded. "And a couple of others afterwards. I'm sorry, but 368 gold is all I could bring in." She tilted her head and gave out her best rendition of puppy eyes to the Keeper as she carefully handed over the coin purse.
"All right." Contrary to expectations, Carcette wasn't angry. She simply took the coin purse and walked it over to the strongbox in her chambers before returning to Cura and Lydia. She gestured towards the Nord. "Who is this stranger you've brought into our Hall?"
"Lydia, my new Housecarl." Cura introduced proudly. Lydia bowed forward respectfully.
"A pleasure, Keeper. Cura has told me a bit about you, and your Order." Lydia made pleasant introduction.
The Keeper gestured a cordial half-bow to Lydia in greeting before returning to Cura. "A Housecarl?" Carcette questioned. "How did you acquire a Housecarl?"
"Well, it's a long story," Cura twiddled her thumbs. "but to shorten it, I killed a Dragon and became Thane of Whiterun after I escaped Helgen."
The Keeper stared at her for a moment to see if she was joking, but the silence burdened the Hall. "By Stendarr! You're serious." Carcette concluded, and Cura chuckled.
"I couldn't really believe it either." Cura shrugged. "Me, a Thane."
"You've slain a Dragon?" Carcette approached closer and placed her hands on Cura's shoulders, staring into the young Breton's emerald eyes directly, searching for any hint of bluster. She found none.
"Two Dragons, actually." Cura put up two fingers. "One in Whiterun and one..."
Carcette's mouth was hung agape.
"...on the way home." Cura finished carefully, trying to omit the part where she got involved with the Stormcloaks and the Legion.
Lydia nodded, confirming Cura's story. "Yes. I was present for the second one, but when she killed the Dragon at the Watchtower, all of Whiterun was speaking of it."
Carcette placed a hand under her chin and nodded, and began to pace back and forth.
She knew.
She knew it was going to come eventually.
"Keeper?" Cura was a little bewildered by her sudden shift in motion.
"Cura... when you killed those Dragons..." Carcette looked to the Shrine of Stendarr, purposely turning her back to her protégé. "did anything... out of the ordinary happen?"
Cura was taken aback by the question. "Wh...what...?"
"You heard me!" Carcette turned around quickly. "Did anything strange happen when you killed those Dragons?"
Cura's jaw dropped, and her heart dropped a beat. "You... you knew!"
Keeper Carcette's eyes were unwavering, searching Cura. The younger Breton felt a hollow pain twinge in her chest, which began to spread out, eating her up inside.
"You knew all along!" Cura raised her voice, catching the attention of some of the other Vigilants in the Hall. Lydia looked around at them. "You knew I was Dragonborn!"
Cura began to feel a rage boiling inside. "Why did you not tell me?" She stomped a foot down. There had to be a reason,
"I wasn't a hundred percent sure," Carcette admitted. "but when I had heard of the Dragons' return, evidence was beginning to mount." She crossed her arms and maintained her composure in the face of Cura's temper. "So, I'll ask you again: did anything strange happen when you killed the Dragons or not?"
"I ABSORBED THEIR SOULS!" Cura shouted, the building quaking under her powerful voice.
The other Vigilants pulled out their maces, and one approached Cura. Lydia pulled her sword to potentially defend her Thane.
"Cura, calm down." the Vigilant asked her softly. "You're one of us, but I won't hesitate to knock you out if you threaten the Keeper again."
"She wasn't threatening me, Haevar." Carcette defended her. "Calm yourself."
The Vigilant backed down, and walked to the back of the room. Cura looked hurt by the notion.
"What does this mean, Keeper? What's happening to me?" Her voice broke, and the emotion began to well up within. She turned away as tears beaded in the corners of her eyes.
Keeper Carcette cleared her throat. "You're the Dragonborn. Many years ago, when you first arrived here, swaddled in a Wolf Pelt, you were brought before me..."
Cura sat down on a bench, and the Keeper sat down beside her, slowly.
Lydia walked to the column next to the bench and leaned on it, and looked around the Hall interior to feign privacy.
The Keeper took the young Vigilant's hands into her own. "We were originally going to send you to Honorhall Orphanage in Riften, but given the location where we're situated, it would not have been safe. That very night, I kept you in my room, on a bale of hay for a bed, beside me."
Cura looked away from Carcette and looked towards her room, to her bed for reference.
"That night, I had a dream." Carcette got her attention.
Cura looked back at her. "A dream?"
"A vision from Stendarr." Carcette confessed. "Some years I've doubted the efficacy of it, but watching you grow up over the years, you're becoming closer and closer to the young Breton in my vision."
"..." Cura was silent.
"The emerald eyes struck me the most." Carcette smirked, and looked to the windows on the wall above the shrine. "You have beautiful green eyes. As did the figure in my Vision. And blonde hair, and pale skin. The woman fought with a Mace, as well; Elven in make. Wearing white robes and steel armour, much like myself."
"What... was she doing, in your dream?" Cura asked with a light sniffle.
"Fighting alongside three warriors. Against a Black Dragon."
Cura then stood up from her seat. "So, that's it, then." She stated. "I am the one who has to fight the World-Eater."
"Yes." Carcette said sorrowfully. "The world rests upon your shoulders, Cura... I had hoped the Dream was only just that; a dream. Though, with everything else coming to pass, I can no longer shield you from it."
"Shield me?" Cura asked.
"I wanted to give you a simpler life, Cura... " Carcette confessed. "I... I grew to love you, like my own Daughter. I couldn't bear the thought of you in such a perilous position. Still, I did everything in my power to train you in the ways we could. But I had hoped the Dragons would not have come."
The younger Breton was speechless. Though, Dragons were only just coming back, so Carcette holding off on telling her this was understandable. There was no sign of their return. It could have happened a century from now.
But it didn't.
They are here, and they bring with them mass death and destruction.
The Vigilant training seemed to help her thus far, even against the Dragons, given that she was also with others by her side. What would she do if it were just her against a Dragon, though?
Cura pouted. "I wish I could have prepared for this sooner, but I don't think I'm strong enough to fight a Dragon alone, Keeper." She admitted. "The fate of Skyrim rests on my shoulders, and I'm not the best fighter. I'm passable, but I still lack experience. I've not even fought a Daedra yet."
Carcette realized the veracity in this. "Unfortunately, all I can teach you is Restoration. I'm not proficient in Mace Etiquette." The Keeper said disappointedly. She crossed her arms in thought. "And yet, you've managed to slay Dragons. You've effectively surpassed us all, help or no help. If a Dragon decided to attack us here, we'd be finished. These wooden walls would catch fire and crumble, with all of us inside."
A horrifying image came to Cura, and she quickly embraced Carcette. "No, don't talk like that!" Cura pleaded. She buried her face in the Keeper's shoulder. "Have faith, Keeper! Standarr won't allow that!"
"Cura..." Carcette slowly pried her off. "The Divines don't always intervene when we need them to."
Lydia agreed, finally chiming in. "They rarely do. Normally they stand by and let things resolve themselves."
Carcette held Cura's hand. "When I had that dream from Stendarr, it came as a big surprise, because Aedra almost never communicate with us Mortals. The Dragons have come from Akatosh; they're Aedric beings, by their nature. Our world is on the cusp of its end."
"So... why would Stendarr..."
"He is the God of Mercy." Carcette elaborated. "The Patron of Order and Justice all across Tamriel. Perhaps he placed you here for a reason; as mercy for our world, amidst the darkness."
"But am I of Akatosh?" Cura scratched the back of her neck. "I have the blood and soul of a Dragon."
"You are." Carcette admitted. "It's a curious thing."
The younger Breton walked to the shrine of Stendarr. "If Akatosh created these awful Dragons, then I hate him, as well."
"Cura!" Carcette exclaimed. "You mustn't disrespect a Divine like that!"
"Why would a Divine want to create something that would destroy the world?" Cura snapped. "Akatosh sounds like a Daedra!"
"Cura, it's not like that..." Carcette failed to find words to explain Akatosh, as he was never her focal point in life.
"And Peryite is a Dragon!" Cura exclaimed in a flurry of emotional fury. "Maybe Akatosh made him, too! The Daedric Prince of Disease and Famine! A child of Akatosh!"
Cura's anger only seemed to simmer and cook within her, the more she spoke.
Lydia stepped in, and stood between them. She informed Carcette. "She's been like this for a while. Extremely high strung, and very irritable. Don't you teach the Initiates any discipline around here?"
Carcette snarled. "I do what I can here. Do you think being the Keeper of the Vigil is an easy job? We're stranded in the middle of nowhere. Our nearest town is Dawnstar; the most cursed town in Skyrim."
"Not your choice of location?" Lydia crossed her arms and scoffed in response to the Keeper's point.
"Not my choice." Carcette shook her head in response. "My predecessor, Keeper Moric Sidrey set the place up and appointed me his successor. While he still lived."
Lydia raised a brow. "Okay, and why..."
"He decided it would be best for the meantime if he went out to form other 'forts' as he called them around the Province, with other Keepers. He also figured he would find places with greater resources. It was a breach of standard protocol, but it seemed feasible at the time."
Cura's attention was got. "Moric Sidrey? I've heard that name, but I've never met him before."
"You don't remember? Well, that doesn't surprise me. He's only come around three times in the last decade." Carcette asked. "He's finished his aimless touring, I think. He hasn't written in a little while. Unless he's been killed, he and some of the other Vigilants have been inside the ruins of Ruunvald. Moric was convinced that the ruin housed some artifact of great power, one which would aid us in our endeavours. I don't believe it, personally. He was always a little eccentric." She gestured to her bedroom. "Cura, go in my chest. You can find a few of Moric's little expedition journals that was sent to me a couple of years ago, if you'd like."
Cura nodded. Now she was curious. There was a Keeper before Carcette? Why did he step down and leave? Why did the Vigil splinter outwards like this? What information could she gain on Ruunvald?
Her existential crisis would have to be postponed in the meantime.
She opened the Chest at the foot of Carcette's bed, and found several different papers and Journals, but after some searching, she found one titled. "Discovering Ruunvald, Vol 1". She dusted off the cover, and noticed that there were three others that came after it. This had been going on for some time, it seemed. She cracked open the expedition journal.
"I have decided to document our expedition to find Ruunvald in my journals, with hopes that, should we fail, it will bring illumination to those who follow us. I myself have stood on the shoulders of academic giants to get where we are today, spending endless hours in libraries and private collections. I am certain that there is some artifact of great power to be found in those ruins, one that the Vigilants could find useful in their mission.
I do not mean to sound pompous, but I feel as if I am on the precipice of my destiny with this quest. I am certain we are digging in the right place. I can feel it in my bones, and I dream of finding Ruunvald at night. Even in my waking hours, I can almost hear a reassuring voice telling me we are going the right way.
The expedition has had a great deal of luck so far. After only a few weeks, the first tunnel broke through into a large shaft, leading downward towards where I suspect to find Ruunvald. With just a few bits of carpentry, we've established our first base camp within the mountains. If we continue to be this fortuitous, we shall reach our goal in record time!
— M. Sidrey"
If she ever met Moric, she would want to know what it was that gave him the idea for them all to spread out in the first place. Though, perhaps setting up a base in Ruunvald would be beneficial, considering the Dragons' return. It seemed to be at least underground, and Dragons couldn't reach it if they tried. Still, Cura's curiosity was peaked. It was clear that there was more progress made, considering the next three. She put the first volume down, and picked up the second, and began to read.
"Our luck continues! Not only do we continue to tunnel into caves and shafts that speed our descent, but struck multiple veins of precious ore. Now that the excavation has proven to be a financial success, the Vigilants have sent more supplies, materials, and workers to further the cause. I find myself unable to contain my glee at times, and have become prone to cheerful outbursts in front of the men. One might find this very out of character for me, but the men seem to share my enthusiasm. Never before have I worked with a group so single-minded in their pursuit. To have so many people working towards the same goal with little to no deviation from the task at hand is an uncanny blessing! Stendarr be praised!
With so much going well, I hesitate to document what seem like minor troubles in comparison. It must have something to do with the cramped spaces, but I have found myself prone to aches in my head. While these hardly deter me from my leadership role, I have found myself distracted at times. I have had many a conversation with the workers where I drift off, only to have them call me back to reality. Sometimes I lose small amounts of time and can't remember what I've done. I am hoping this is nothing more than excitement of reaching our goal, but I will try to keep note as we dig deeper. Perhaps a half tankard of ale before sleep will help me with these headaches.
— M. Sidrey"
The Vigilants sent him aid? Was Carcette sending help to Ruunvald, or the Vigil branch in Cyrodiil? No, that would be counterintuitive, given the current war. Maybe Carcette was warmer to this idea because the Leader of the Expedition was her former superior, or perhaps something was to be gained from it, contrary to Isran's barren fort. Still, Cura had to know more. She cracked open the third entry, hoping to learn more from Moric.
"The damnable headaches! Minorne be merciful, I just can't seem to shake them. The workers have started to report them as well, but while their focus on conversation and civility may wane because of it, they have not swayed from their task. If anything, they seem to have doubled their efforts. I myself cannot seem to focus on anything other than the dig. I sit here now, studying some unearthed Nordic artefacts, yet I feel a nagging call to see how the dig is progressing. The other day without thinking, I picked up a shovel and started digging myself. Fortunately, no one seemed to find this unusual, which is a blessing. I'd hate for the Vigilants of Minorne to think that I'd lost my senses!
As we dig, we uncover more Nordic ruins and architecture, but have yet to hit the main chamber. Everyday I dream we'll finally reach Ruunvald, and I can't help but reflect on what this will mean to my reputation! My family will be so proud, especially my father, Minorne. He and mother have always been interested in my studies, even if my sister Minorne was not. But I'm most excited to reveal my findings to my colleagues, Minorne and Minorne, and perhaps my mentor Minorne. Oh, won't they all be pleased?
— M. Sidrey"
'Minorne?' Cura furrowed her brows as she looked over the text, double checking it to be sure she had read it right. She quickly scanned the pages once more, feeling a tight bit wary. "Vigilant of Minorne?" She leaned back. "Is that how he intends to distinguish the two parties?" She looked back in the chest, and there sat Volume 4. Cura was hesitant at this point. Should she read it?
Her hand lightly shook before she touched the leather cover of the book, but she managed to get a grip on it, and pulled it out of the chest. She slowly creaked the volume open, anxious to what she would find within. Hesitantly, she began to read it.
"I have found my muse and her name is Minorne. Reading back over old journals, I realize she has called to me from deep inside Ruunvald. She is the voice I've been hearing, the one who has called me ever downwards into the mountain. The Vigilants, the workers, they hear her too! What joy to learn that I am not alone in her love! Oh, Minorne, how would we have ever found this place without you! As I write this we are digging out the last bit of rock to get to you. Those without tools have started using their hands! I cannot write anymore, I must get back to work. Ruunvald awaits!
— M. Sidrey"
What on Nirn?
Cura quickly looked in the chest, and she saw another book, titled "Minorne." The young Dragonborn grit her teeth frustratedly as she lifted the accursed journal from within the chest and dusted it off. Its date was more recent, from last year, in fact. Cura, without a second's thought, broke it open. It was written by their friend, Moric Sidrey, like the excavation entries.
"Glory be to Minorne! Glory be to the mistress of all! My life for you, oh beautiful saviour! Where once my feeble ramblings seemed so grand, I now realize they are but scratches on parchment, unworthy of you. Oh, that I could properly describe you, I would write a thousand testaments to you! Damn my tiny thoughts, if only I were wiser!
Minorne asks that we bring more here for her, more to worship her and do her bidding! I have sent word to the Hall of the Vigilants to come. A simple lie was told, for they would not understand. Not until they saw her, o glorious Minorne!
But she is fearful! There are fools in this world that do not heed to her beautiful voice. The guard, Florentius, sent from the Beacon, he still prays to Arkay, an absentee god who pales in comparison to Minorne! I will pray to the goddess I can see! May he rot in his cage!
Oh, sweet, sweet, Minorne...
— Moric Sidrey"
Cura quickly slammed the book shut and scrambled to her feet, running back to Keeper Carcette, and to Lydia. "Keeper! What happened to Moric?" she asked, a clear distress written all over her young face. A formerly gentle visage, contorted by the stress and forlornness of the last few days.
"He turned his back on Stendarr." Carcette spoke plainly. "I sent word to Stendarr's Beacon to investigate the matter. Do you remember Florentius Baenius?" She asked Cura.
"Not really." Cura admitted, embarrassed at her lack of memory.
"Florentius is a Priest of Arkay." Carcette reminded her. "He stopped by here once, last year. His duty is one against the Undead. Brother Adalvald recommended I send him to Ruunvald to investigate the odd changes in behaviour there."
Cura crossed her arms. "And he never reported in?"
Keeper Carcette shook her head. "We can only assume he was taken and killed by the fanatics."
"Your group seems to be quite dysfunctional." Lydia said mockingly.
"You don't know the half of it." The Keeper walked over to the cupboard nearby, and took a Tankard, which she proceeded to fill with Mead. When she finished pouring, she handed it to Lydia. "Here, have a Mead and stop asking questions."
Cura giggled lightly, and quickly attempted to conceal it.
"Are you finished sulking?" Carcette asked her.
"Yes." Cura responded, though now she had more questions than she did before returning home. She wanted to investigate Ruunvald, but it seemed dangerous at this given time. Surely, Carcette would figure out a way to help Moric; she just needed more resources. Hopefully the gold she gave her would help in their efforts.
Then again, maybe investigating it may be for the best. She had to go to Whiterun first to report to Fralia. The sweet old Lady had a right to learn of her sons' whereabouts.
Enough sulking, indeed.
She had important things to think about, Dragon blood be damned.
Skyrim needs help.
"Good." Carcette poured herself a Mead, and took a drink of it. She put the tankard down. "Oh, yes; Brother Adalvald also has some interesting ideas concerning the Crypt in the Mountain." She recalled.
"The Vampires?" Cura asked.
"Yes. He believes that in Dimhollow Crypt, there is something of significance to Vampires, and that they've been going in it. I've allowed him to scout within." Carcette explained. "I just hope this isn't yet another fruitless endeavour that I've been part of."
Just then, Brother Adalvald entered the Hall, as if on cue.
"Speak of the Daedra." Carcette muttered.
Immediately, Adalvald saw Cura standing before the Shrine, and he smiled in greeting. "Ah, Vigilant Cura! You're alive! This is good news!" he exclaimed, as Cura ran over and embraced him.
"Brother Adalvald!" Cura was excited to see his face again as she gripped him tightly. "I'm so happy to see you!" She buried her face in his shoulder.
Adalvald slowly exited the hug. "I hear you escaped Helgen! What was that like?"
"It... was horrendous." Cura admitted. "A black dragon attacked us all and decimated the city, but I'm sure that the Field Watch told you."
"Yes, indeed!" Adalvald admitted. "I informed Keeper Carcette about it. She was devastated at first." He nudged Cura humorously, as the Keeper was only usually known for two emotional states: irritated and stern. "She was nearly floored by the news."
Cura looked at Carcette, who pursed her lips and turned her face, annoyed. "Brother Adalvald, if you have nothing important to say, you can return to your little cave."
Adalvald laughed mildly, and quickly collected himself. "So, Cura... what was this Dragon like? How large was he? How about his fangs? Were they like swords? How hot were his flames?"
"Brother Adalvald!" Carcette rebuked. "Cura doesn't wish to relive that horror."
"No, no," Cura assured. "I'm going to be dealing with them for the rest of my life, so I'm going to have to get used to them."
She turned to Adalvald. "It was big as this Hall, and its fangs were lengthy as a shortsword. It's flames scorched with enough heat to make Mehrunes Dagon sweat."
Adalvald was stunned by the description. "And you survived that?"
"More than that," Cura began. "I've killed two of them!"
Lydia nodded, confirming her tale.
"Astounding!" Adalvald exclaimed. "Keeper Carcette was right! You truly are special!
In fact, I daresay you might even be the Dovahkiin of legend."
"I've heard that word before." Cura said. "It means 'Dragon child' in their tongue, I think."
"Dragonborn, specifically." Adalvald spoke. "Could explain why the sky shook a couple of days ago." he directed it at Carcette, who nodded in agreement.
Their Hall was a mess. They wouldn't be able to help Cura learn more about herself.
"I know a little of the Dragons' language." Adalvald boasted. "Mainly from my studies alongside the former Keeper, Moric Sidrey. He had a large library of books, but took most with him when he began to spread the Vigil all around the Province."
"Why did he leave?" Cura asked. "Why set up all over the place?"
"He figured it best to cover as much ground as possible." Adalvald explained. "He didn't take the Skyrim climate into account though, being from Cheydinhal in Cyrodiil. Our roads are less agreeable than those in Cyrodiil, which makes communication and transportation between the headquarters much more difficult."
"And I'm from Bhoriane, High Rock." Carcette crossed her arms, dismissing the excuse. "And yet, I understood this better."
"Ah, he was always too big for his britches." Adalvald scoffed. "Always jumping from one thing to the next, never finishing his business,"
"Best not to be like him then, right, my Thane?" Lydia informed Cura with a nudge, referring to getting news back to Fralia Grey-Mane.
"Yes! Right!" Cura recalled.
She turned to Keeper Carcette. "Keeper, tomorrow morning, I'll be setting off back to Whiterun." She explained. "I... have some things to take care of there."
"It must be important, I wager." Carcette mused. "You've been gone for almost four days, and you've just returned."
"Yes, I know..." Cura looked off to the side, deliberately avoiding eye contact. "I just have a few errands to run."
Carcette chuckled. "Thane of Whiterun. I suppose they're just handing out Courtships these days."
Lydia sat down on a bench and stopped herself from laughing. True, indeed.
She laid her sword and shield on the bench beside her, and took a loaf of bread from her carrying bag, and began to eat it.
Cura snorted. She felt a little underestimated. After all, it's not every day that somebody leaps on a Dragon's head and bludgeons them. Still, she had pulled a muscle in her left shoulder, and the soreness was definitely catching up to her. She massaged her left shoulder and moved her arm around to loosen it.
"Cura," Carcette spoke again. "have a seat with Brother Adalvald and myself. We will dine together." She extended the offer, and Cura agreed. Keeper Carcette motioned for her and Brother Adalvald to sit at the table on the East side of the Hall, and walked over to the Hearth.
"Lydia, come and eat with us!" Cura called her Housecarl.
"My Thane, I'm your Housecarl. It's hardly-"
"I insist!" Cura cut her off.
Lydia folded, and rolled her eyes. This Breton...
She took her sword and shield, and wore them on her person as she headed over to the table. She sat on a corner seat, and Carcette returned with some bowls of Cabbage Soup.
"We give thanks to Stendarr, God of Mercy, for the food given unto us in this frozen wasteland, without which we would not survive." Adalvald spoke before the meal.
Cura moved over so Carcette could sit between her and Brother Adalvald.
Through the rest of the evening, they ate and drank together joyously, and for the first time in days, Cura felt a semblance of peace. Lydia seemed to be enjoying the company as well, and found fascination with Brother Adalvald's tales of fighting Vampires in Falkreath a few years ago, where he had jammed his mace in one's mouth, shattering their fangs.
"I daresay I'm invincible," Adalvald boasted. "but I fear it would provoke fate."
"My most remarkable feat was slaying a Troll." Lydia droned disheartenedly.
"Not true!" Cura exclaimed. "You helped me slay that Dragon back in Haaf--"
She realized Carcette was paying attention at this point.
"On the road near Dragon's Bridge." she tried to divert from Solitude, but Carcette put down her spoon.
"Dragon's Bridge?" she asked. "What were you doing in Dragon's Bridge?"
"We... got a little bit lost." Cura said sheepishly, pushing her index fingers together awkwardly.
"More than a little bit." Carcette was stunned. "That's very far from here."
"Heh. If she headed further west, she could have run into Vigilant Tyranus." Adalvald pondered. "He's doing a sweep of the Reach currently."
"Another one who hasn't been reporting in." Carcette shook her head.
Lydia and Cura exchanged glances.
Perhaps this was yet another thing they could look into.
"Do you think he's hurt?" Cura asked, showing visible concern.
"He's a strong man, and a Witch blade." Adalvald shrugged it off. "He can manage himself. You take care of your Whiterun business."
"You being a Thane could be advantageous," Carcette explained. "perhaps you could see on finding us a trade route from the Pale to Whiterun."
"I'll... ask Jarl Balgruuf." Cura said as she took a sip of her soup. "Maybe one of the Blacksmiths could help supply us with armour."
Maybe she could ask Fralia if her husband, Eorlund would be willing to sell to them. Skyforge Steel would be a vast improvement to the Iron Maces the majority of Vigilants carry.
Carcette smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light shake. "Thank you, Cura."
Cura smiled and finished her soup. She gave Carcette and Adalvald an embrace, and headed to her room in the basement.
Lydia followed her down the stairs behind the shrine, and there was a small tactician room, and a door on the East wall.
Cura waved to one of the Vigilants who was drinking an Ale, and she waved back.
She opened the door and headed inside of her small room.
Lydia stood at the doorway. "Rest well, my Thane." she said instructively. "We will depart for Whiterun in the morning."
Cura hopped into her old bed. Creaky, with a bit of bounce. Just as she liked it.
"You don't have to stay up all night, Lydia." Cura told her. "This place is safe. Take a bedroll, and enjoy the night."
"Very well." Lydia relented. She walked over to the closet in the corner of the room and pulled out a bedroll, and laid it down to the ground. She went on top of it.
"Pleasant dreams, Lydia." Cura said softly as her Housecarl quickly fell into a deep slumber upon hitting the pillow.
Cura too slowly drifted off to sleep, but cautiously, hoping for a pleasant dream this time around.
In her dream, she was visited once again by a White Dragon with green eyes. The beast looked at her with a serene expression.
Cura slowly, and cautiously approached the drake, extending a hand to pet it, when its expression changed to one of anger. The white Dragon snapped at the Breton, causing her to fumble backwards.
"Why?!" Cura cried. "I'm trying to be cordial!"
"Fin lein los ahst Tahrovin, Dovahkiin." the Dragon spoke. Its voice alone was forceful enough to shake the Breton in her tracks.
The Dragon pulled backwards and took to the sky, flying circles around the immediate vicinity, and Cura walked forward towards a precipice.
From above, she saw a pit of flame, where two dragons flew about the crystalline structures amidst the searing flames.
She immediately recognized the two dragons as the one from the Whiterun Watchtower, and the one from Dragon's Bridge.
The white Dragon swooped down and consumed both of them, absorbing their power and increasing in size. The white Dragon roared ferociously and emerged from the pit, and heading to the sun above.
Cura slowly awoke in her bed.
She looked around for a moment, and found Lydia awake at the door.
"Lydia... is it daylight?" Cura asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Yes, my Thane." Lydia responded. "Keeper Carcette asked me to wake you. She has something for you."
Cura's eyes lit up. "Ooh! What could it be, I wonder?" She tossed her blanket aside and jumped out of the bed. Immediately, she took her mace and shield, and readjusted her green robes before heading out through the war room and up the stairs.
Upstairs, Keeper Carcette was waiting in the center of the room, when her eyes met Cura. "Good morning, Cura."
"Good morning, Keeper!" Cura said enthusiastically. "Lydia told me that you have something for me?"
"I do." Carcette said with a smile as she slowly took out what looked like a set of Robes, much like the white ones she herself wore. "Apprentice Robes, enchanted with the power to boost your Magicka's rechargeability, and to empower your Restoration abilities."
Cura eagerly took the robes, and held them tightly against her bosom. "I'll put them on right away!" She hurried into one of the empty rooms and closed the door behind her. When she reemerged, she looked like a new Breton, in unsullied white and brown cloth.
She looked at herself from as many angles as possible, and was ecstatic that it fit perfectly. As though it were tailored for her specifically.
"Do you like them?" Keeper Carcette asked, genuine in her ways.
"I love them!" Cura squealed excitedly as she went over and embraced the older Breton. "Thank you so much!"
She turned to Lydia. "Well? How do I look?"
"Like a Vigilant of Stendarr?" Lydia shrugged.
"Good enough." Cura took it as a compliment with a chuckle.
Keeper Carcette smirked. "Maybe someday when you're more experienced, I'll have you as next in line for the position as Keeper of the Vigil."
Cura was silent. The thought had never occurred to her; Cura of the Pale: Dragonborn, Keeper of the Vigil, and Thane of Whiterun. It sounded fascinating, but she would rather work under Carcette, like she always has, than be the leader. It seemed so stressful to be in charge of a Faction.
"I'll take the silence as unbridled excitement." Carcette walked past her, to the Shrine. "When you get to Whiterun, I'd like you to give Jarl Balgruuf this Parcel; in it contains my letter and a charter, detailing our movement through the hold from Dawnstar to Rorikstead. We'll need the Jarl's permission to pass through Guard checkpoints. Once we do that, we can gain a foothold in the North and the Center. We can actually begin to mobilize and trade through the holds."
Cura scratched her chin. "And because you have a connection in Jarl Balgruuf's court, it's now possible."
"We're also going to help battle against the Dragons." Carcette said sternly. "They're not Daedric, but they are a great threat all the same. Perhaps this is the will of Stendarr."
Cura understood. They could easily sell the idea, what with the Dragonborn being among their Order.
The Vigil could finally grow into what it was always meant to be: a force of defense for the People.
An excitement overcame the Breton. This was turning out better than she'd hoped!
"This is a wonderful idea, Keeper!" Cura exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Brother Adalvald and I spent the night articulating it." She admitted.
"Maybe then we could find a better base of operations." Cura mused.
"First things first, Cura." Carcette held back. "Bring the parcel to the Jarl, and we'll see how it goes."
Cura nodded. "Of course."
She quickly headed to the door, and Lydia followed after her.
"I'll be back tomorrow, Keeper." Cura said, as she exited the Hall.
Carcette waved her farewell.
The Keeper felt a sense of hope. Cura returned safely, and brought with her incredible news. The girl would need some help coping with her new life, but seemed to take most of the news better than expected. And now, she would build a bridge between the organization and the hold of Whiterun.
Carcette was filled with a sense of pride.
Perhaps there was more to be done, after all.