Cura, Lucien and Vilja traversed the rugged landscape until they reached the approximate area Lucien marked on her map.
"Why would anyone want to become a Hagraven?" Vilja wondered. "I understand if you want power, but surely there are other ways to get it without becoming so ugly."
Lucien chuckled. "Why don't you ask them then?"
Vilja showed utter disgust at the mere thought of it and stubbornly shook her head. "Ech. No. I think I'd rather keep as much distance between us as possible."
"Suit yourself." Lucien responded with a shrug. "I'm sure it'd be an interesting answer."
"Then why don't you ask them?" Vilja counter-suggested.
"...Fair point." Lucien relented
Cura shook her head. "You already know why they did it. Why risk getting yourself killed over it?" She saw the large rock encampments up ahead. "Becoming a Hagraven isn't like becoming a Vampire or Werewolf. You have to want it deliberately. You have to sacrifice another life to do it. There are no infections involved in their transformation."
Vilja shuddered. "So, you kill Bjorn down the road to get an ugly makeover, essentially? Yuck."
"That's pretty much it." Cura shrugged as she came upon the large rocks. She saw a witch patrolling the grounds and slugged her in the back of the head with a Bound Arrow.
The other witches were alerted by her sudden shriek.
"Showtime." Cura informed her allies.
The witches above the large rock spotted them and alerted the Hagravens above. Immediately the group was met with a hail of powerful fireballs.
Spellbreaker drank most of them, allowing Cura to retort with her Unrelenting Force Shout, which knocked a few witches off the rock.
One broke her neck and perished, while another broke her arm and cast a Healing spell. The other had a cushioned fall, landing on some bushes.
Lucien cast Welling Blood on the witch that healed herself, draining her life away. She hit him with a Firebolt at close range in response, but Lucien held up a Steadfast Ward to guard himself. He waited her out and the witch died from the spell before his Magicka could run dry.
Vilja stabbed the other witch through the heart. "You may use your dark magic, but you are still human." She drove the sword across, killing the sorceress.
Cura ran up the rock to face the enraged Hagravens. She spun around a clawed attack and drove her mace across the witch's head, tearing it off. She then pivoted and shield-bashed the second one off the rock, causing her to land in front of Lucien and Vilja.
Once the witch landed, Vilja pointed her sword at her. "Before I kill you; can you tell me why you wanted to become a Hagraven?"
The witch looked at her with a mix of confusion and concern.
The final Hagraven was not so easily dispatched. She cast a fireball at Cura's right hand, causing her to lose the grip on her mace. The golden, gilded cudgel fell off the rock and bounced off its jagged side and landed in the grass.
Lucien noticed this and dashed towards it.
The Hagraven followed up with a lightning bolt, which Cura blocked with Spellbreaker. However, the strength and intensity of the arc of purple electricity caused her knees to buckle and her feet to slide backwards as she held firm her stance.
With grit, she pushed forward against the unstoppable torrent one step at a time, and she drew Dawnbreaker, to the Hag's unpleasant surprise.
"FUS!" Cura's shout knocked the witch off-kilter, causing her to dispell the stream of electricity. The Dragonborn then took the opportunity to plunge her blade in the Hag's throat, finishing her off.
Lucien witnessed it from below with awe. "Wow... that's a spectacle, right there!"
Vilja looked quite impressed. "Wow, so that is the strength of the Dragonborn I have heard so much about!"
Cura noticed a strange-looking shear on an altar next to some dead Spriggans and taproots. "That must be Nettlebane."
She lifted it and examined it. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, as far as bark shears went.
"You made short work of that one, Candle! Nicely done!" Lucien praised as he handed Cura's Elven mace back to her.
"Thanks for the cover." Cura smiled back at him. "Now, I think this is the Nettlebane. I'm going to bring it to Danica."
"At your leisure." Lucien whimsically gave her a stage exit bow.
Vilja looked in one of the satchels on the table. "You know, I'm not all that much of an Alchemist - not like my mother or grandmother, but I would be happy to mix you a potion if you'd like."
Cura nodded. "Certainly; a Magicka potion could come in handy. Thank you."
"Oh, you Bretons are so prim and proper!" Vilja scoffed. "There's no need to thank me; I haven't done it yet!"
It didn't take long for them to Fast Travel to Whiterun and reach the Temple of Kynareth. Once they headed inside, they witnessed an argument between Danica and a dark-skinned Breton Pilgrim with black, wily hair and a moustache donning a brown tunic, it looked like.
The Pilgrim looked astonished and sickly pale. He pointed towards the door they'd entered in from."What is it... what has happened to the Gildergreen? I have traveled long here to worship beneath its branches."
Danica looked like she was under its gloom-filled branches, herself. She was exhausted of answering the same question repeatedly, it seemed. "It was taken by a lightning strike. Wish I had time to deal with it, but it's hard enough with all these wounded from the war."
Vilja nodded and spoke to Cura. "The billboard outside the Bannered Mare said about a skirmish in Eastmarch. Some Whiterun soldiers went off to fight. Can you imagine?"
Cura shuddered. "I can."
The Pilgrim grew in frustration."Please, don't just let it stay like this. It's disgraceful."
Danica turned around and walked away to her backroom. "I really don't have time to deal with you right now. Please just let me get back to my work."
The Pilgrim sounded both sad and annoyed. "But this is supposed to be your work." He elected to stick around, though, walking towards a bench on the eastern half of the temple.
Inigo came out of the backroom, spinning around Danica in the process. "Whoa! Back from the Hag's nest, are we? Did you get the thingamajig?"
Cura held up Nettlebane to show him. "Yep - and it went quite well, to boot! No grievous injuries!"
"Except for the enemies, yes?"
"Of course." Cura laughed.
Inigo immediately fixed his gaze on Vilja. "Oh, you have a new friend already? I feel like Serana will not be too happy."
Cura rolled her eyes. "She's not 'replacing' Serana any more than Lucien 'replaced' Mjoll."
"Ah, so she is in the party, but the other two are always welcome to join in." Inigo clarified.
"Of course!" Cura exclaimed.
She turned to the uninitiated Vilja. "All right, so... Vilja, I'd like to introduce you to my friend, and the comedian of our group, Inigo the Brave!"
"Hi there! I'm so happy to meet you!" Vilja waved enthusiastically to the blue Khajiit.
"I am pleased to meet you, Vilja. We are going to get on well, I think." Inigo remarked.
Danica came back out and noticed Cura and her allies. Sge swiftly approached them. "So, have you gotten Nettlebane back from those filthy Hagravens yet?"
Cura held up the shear. "It wasn't too difficult; I have it right here."
"Oh. I... well, I honestly didn't expect you to come back. Of course, I'm glad you did!" Danica waved her hands quickly, assuring she meant it in a good way. "Now... I don't really want to touch that thing, though. Do you think you could handle the next steps?"
Cura nodded. "Just tell me what I need to do."
"Eldergleam's sanctuary grove is to the east of here. You can use Nettlebane to retrieve some of its sap." Danica explained.
"Certainly, but I was wondering why Nettlebane is needed for that." Cura asked.
"The hags are hateful of anything which grows from the earth. They made the weapon strong against the natural world. It's the only thing I've even heard of that could cut Eldergleam. Stick it in, give it a twist, and the stuff will just flow out." Danica illustrated. "Now, as for your cat friend - he has quite a sense of humour. I almost don't want to give him back to you."
Cura laughed out loud, recognizing the veracity of it. "That's Inigo."
"In these times, laughter is sorely needed." Danica expressed as more wounded soldiers were brought in from the outer fields. "Now, if you'll excuse me... I have things to do..."
The antsy Pilgrim noticed the wounded coming in from across the room and moved around them to reach Cura. "Was I correct in hearing that you were traveling to the grove of the Eldergleam? I am Maurice Jondrelle, a traveler. A pilgrim. I follow the voice of Kynareth wherever it can be heard. I've dreamed of seeing Eldergleam for years. Might I travel alongside you? I promise not to get in the way."
Cura had no issue with it. "Certainly. Welcome to the group for the time."
"Why does he get such a warm greeting and I get treated as a crime suspect?" Vilja crossed her arms and sulked.
"Because he's a follower of Kynareth and doesn't have a cursed bottle on his person?" Lucien proposed.
"How can you be sure his shoes aren't cursed?" Inigo laughed. "I haven't seen Nazeem around lately - maybe somebody finally grew tired of his bleating and Soul-Trapped him into a pair of old boots?"
"...Who?" Lucien asked.
"The condescending Redguard who owns a farm outside of town. I wanted to slap him in the face when he said I looked like a ragdoll! What nerve!" Vilja squeaked angrily as she recounted the encounter.
Cura considered the idea's plausibility, but ultimately chose to cast it aside for the moment. "Okay, so, Maurice. I want you to be oriented at the center of the group, because you don't appear to be a fighter. We'll protect you against the threats on the road."
Maurice nodded and walked over beside Vilja, getting into position as instructed. "I thank you for your kindness."
Cura took the lead, Lucien stood at the back, and Vilja and Maurice made up the center. Inigo joined in, as well.
Cura stared at him. "Are you sure you want to come with us, Inigo? You might get the brain attacks again."
"I will have to leave sometime, my friend. There is no bathroom in here!" Inigo exclaimed, causing Vilja to giggle.
They exited the temple and passed the wilted tree and descended the stairs.
Maurice agreed. "Yes... you don't want to use that pool on the floor for... nefarious purposes."
"Okay, but if anything happens, you let me know." Cura demanded of her friend.
"The world will know if it happens again." Inigo scoffed as they headed out of the city.
"Oh, I love a road trip! This is so exciting, isn't it?" Vilja clasped her hands together jovially.
"Not... really?" Lucien shrugged. "Ahh... perhaps I've become a little jaded. Next to the Forgotten Vale, these fields are so... how do I put this... blah."
Cura traversed the wide fields of Whiterun, and recalled her time here with Lydia so, so long ago. An assassin attempted to kill her on this field, once. It seemed so distant.
"I wonder what Jorrvaskr would be like if Tilma didn't keep the place nice and tidy. I guess it's beyond imagination." Vilja proposed as she gingerly jumped over a medium-sized flat stone.
"Indeed. They would be lost without her." Inigo laughed. "Imagine having to clean up after the Companions every day. Rather her than me."
Cura turned her face to the two of them. "Oh, you have no idea how big of a mess they can make in the Dining Hall. I always took care not to add to the conundrum for Tilma while I was there." The Breton smiled as waves of nostalgia made their way through her heart. "It seems like so long ago, now... maybe I'll tell you some of my interesting stories there sometime."
After a long walk through the fields and into a rugged open clearing, they knew they were close.
The landscape was brimming with sulphurous pools and hot springs. They'd crossed over from Whiterun into Eastmarch, and slightly north from Darkwater Crossing. Bloodsplatters lay strewn about and corpses of fallen Imperial and Stormcloak soldiers alike were littering the landscape.
"Dreadful... just simply... dreadful." Maurice lamented the sight. "Are we near the sanctuary yet?"
Lucien checked his map. "Yes - it should be right over... there!" he pointed towards a jutted crag with a cavernous entrance off in the distance.
They walked along the rivers and stony crags that surrounded the clearing. They found the entrance to a grotto and the sweet smells of grass and honeydew told them all they needed to know.
"I can't believe I've finally made it here." Maurice expressed his excitement.
As soon as they entered the grove in the small cliffside, they were greeted by the beating wings of a hundred blue butterflies.
Lucien watched in awe as the cute insects took flight and fled the cavern, rushing around him like flowing water out into the sunlight.
Inigo giggled as one brushed past his whiskers. "Hehehe!"
Cura saw a butterfly land on her robe's neck lining and then flutter off it and around her. She admired its gentle beauty with sparkling eyes.
Vilja tried to catch one, but to no avail.
Maurice smiled as he saw the flock pass him by. "Kynareth's beauty, in small, winged form."
Cura smiled. "Gorgeous."
The world was dangerous and at times inhospitable, but the lovely little creatures like these made it beautiful.
If Alduin consumed all things, these too would vanish. Surely he would not stop after the consumption of the sentient races.
Upon the thought, Cura shuddered. She hadn't given that much thought to it before, but the world held value even beyond the mortal races.
The gods designed all there was and Alduin threatened to undo all of it.
Unacceptable.
Cura walked through the beautiful grove and came upon an open clearing that reminded her very much of the Ancestor Glade. There were luscious grassy areas untamed with wildlife, many cliffs and bluffs overlooking a split ravine emerging from the base of a large waterfall on the west side. Light poured in from a large hole in the ceiling, illuminating the giant tree with its many gnarled roots at the top of the highest cliff. It resembled the Gildergreen greatly, with gorgeous pink leaves. The behemoth of a tree seemed to loom over everything, and colourful little fairies flitted in its branches like shining lights on a festive tree.
Spriggans sat along the sides, further away from the people, but ready to attack should things get dangerous.
Maurice stumbled ahead and looked up at it with great awe. "It's like it was in my dreams. I can almost hear its heart." He looked at the tree and then back at Cura. "Please move quickly. Eldergleam awaits us."
"Finally! The Eldergleam Sanctuary. What a place! Now we must see if I can find someone to talk to. You will help me, won't you?" Vilja looked to Cura expectantly. She gave her head a light tilt, again playing the damsel while her minimal patience was running thin.
Cura furrowed her brows. "How many people could there be?"
As if to humour her, an auburn-haired Nord woman in ablue dress who has been there with a friend approached. "You are in Eldergleam Sanctuary - just a small glimpse of what beauty Kynareth has to offer. Wonderful place, isn't it?"
"It really is." Cura admitted as she admired the scenic surroundings. "The Divines are good to us. I just hope to be able to repay them for their benevolence."
Maurice walked on ahead of the group to bask in the scenery and pray.
Lucien pointed to the ginormous tree at the top. "And that tree? Is that Eldergleam?" he immediately got out his note journal to begin sketching what he saw. Truly, Skyrim had its wonders.
Someday, in ten years he would look back at this old journal and smile as he relieved his adventures, telling tales to his children.
And surely, he would be remembered for all time as the Scholar who accompanied the Dragonborn.
"Yes, my friend. Though no one has been able to get close to her for as long as I can remember." the lady expressed her disappointment.
"Why not?" Cura asked.
"As you can see, Eldergleam's roots are large and stretch far, blocking any path to her trunk." the woman explained. "Though, believe it or not, there are rumors of a weapon that even Eldergleam herself would lift her roots for, more out of fear than respect."
"Could you by any chance mean this shear?" Cura held up Nettlebane. An instrument used to shave bark off trees so their sap may be claimed.
The Eldergleam is afraid of it? It's only a simple shear - what lasting harm could it do?
"The rumors were true..." the devotee's eyes widened with dread. "I beg of you, don't harm the tree! Nothing good can come of it."
Cura walked ahead and Vilja, Lucien and Inigo followed.
The woman cried out to her again, but went unheard. "You don't know what you're dealing with! There will be consequences if you harm that tree! Leave this place - you're not welcome here anymore."
The woman was a simple Pilgrim; there was no chance that she could stop Cura if she tried, let alone Lucien or Inigo.
There was an older woman standing on the small bluff next to an interior ravine, and she seemed to look at Vilja as she, Cura and the others approached. She appeared to have the look of a young wisewoman. The woman moved some of her raven hair away from her eyes. "Yes?"
"My companion needs help with a mysterious bottle." Cura gestured towards Vilja.
"I see. Maybe I should speak to your friend, then." the woman gestured towards Vilja, staring at the bottle on her waist.
"All right. I'll be here taking care of my own affairs. It shouldn't take long." Cura informed Vilja as she walked along the meandering pathways over the bridge.
The woman faced Vilja. "You wanted to talk to me?"
Vilja found her wording. "Yes... yes, you see, I have this bottle... and a note... and my grandmother said that you might be able to help..."
Cura and her allies came upon the first in a wide set of hurdles along the path to the Eldergleam; a root larger than a mammoth obstructed the path. And beyond it still were many more. There was no climbing it.
Cura already knew what to do, and she clasped her fingers tightly around the handle of the nefarious Nettlebane.
She began to slash at the root and it instinctively pulled back, and she began to repeat the process on the others as she ran through. Though, a sinking feeling of terrible guilt sent waves through her.
A weapon the Eldergleam pulls its roots back from out of fear rather than respect.
Should I really be doing this? Cura paused and looked at the tree above. Her heart sank as she looked at it and then at Nettlebane, which was now coated in small wood chips.
"Wait! Stop!"
Maurice Jondrelle pushed his way past Inigo and Lucien and rushed up to Cura. He was not happy - moreso terrified by her actions. "I had no idea you were a woman of violence. What exactly are your intentions in this blessed place?"
"Danica asked me to shear the bark and retrieve the sap from the Eldergleam." Cura informed him. "But I... I don't know..."
A deep sadness welled up within; perhaps it was caused by Kynareth herself.
"Vigilant, you would violate this marvel of Kynareth's glory to fix that half-breed stump in Whiterun? That's abominable. Barbaric. I'll have no part of this. Why didn't you tell me what you intended?" Maurice chastised Cura, bringing her title into it as well, as if to remind her that she was duty-bound to protect the Aedric creations.
Was it not the highest calling of a Vigilant of Stendarr to bring his mercy to the innocent and his justice to the Daedra? How could a Vigilant justifiably use a weapon fashioned from Daedric origins to cut one of Kynareth's most beautiful creations?
It was cold-blooded.
"Truth be told, I really don't want to do this." Cura informed him with a look of loss. "I wish there were another solution. It feels wrong." She looked to the tree once more, and its tangling branches appeared to weep over her, as if pleading her mercy.
Truly, either Stendarr or Kynareth would be disappointed in her if she went through with this.
No wonder Kynareth was upset with Danica! How little faith that priestess must have to even suggest using a cursed knife to draw from the sacred tree of Kynareth to preserve a pretend one.
"Well... yes. There is something." Maurice gave her some hope. He was relieved that the Dragonborn seemed to lean more in the direction of peace in this regard. "It won't repair the tree back at the temple, but we could bring them a new one."
"A new one? Will the Eldergleam do that for us?" Cura asked.
Maurice's mouth curled upwards into a gentle smile and he beckoned her. "Follow me. I think I can convince the tree to help us." He hurried up the path and Cura followed him.
As they rounded the natural corners, they reached the tree trunk itself.
"O, great Eldergleam, hear my plea..." Maurice prostrated himself before it. "The Temple of your mother in Whiterun needs a new Gildergreen. This woman before you has no other alternatives save to draw your sap and harm you in the process, which she does not desire to do."
Cura shook her head, though she knew better than to interrupt a prayer and remained silent.
"Please, grant us a gift to bring to the jaded Priestess Danica, to remind her of the true values of our faith." Maurice lowered his face to the ground and kissed the soil before the giant tree.
Before their very eyes, a small bud sprouted from the soil where his lips has made contact, and the bud began to sprout.
A shocking display of nature revealed itself: a small tree untangled itself and spread out its branches like a chick emerging from its egg.
It was a thin and frail little thing, but it would someday, with Kynareth's blessing, grow to become a marvel for all to see.
A small seedling of hope in these dark times, which will one day cast a protective shade over the city of Whiterun.
"The Eldergleam has blessed us with a sapling. You should take it to Whiterun. Danica will want to see that the true blessings of nature lie in renewal, not a slavish maintenance." Maurice mocked the priestess' arrogance.
Cura violently cast Nettlebane off the side of the cliff and watched as it submerged into the ravine, where she prayed it be lost underneath its rocks forever.
Perhaps she had just done Danica a favour.
Shortly thereafter, Cura gently touched the Eldergleam with her bare hand. "I'm sorry, Eldergleam. I never meant to harm you." A gentle breeze of tranquility brushed through her golden hair and she allowed herself to experience it.
Within the wind was a whisper of a faint, feminine voice; "Thank you for your mercy, child of Stendarr. You shall have my blessing. Your Thu'um shall resound in the heavens."
And then, the wind passed through the area and all fell back to silence.
"I believe I'll stay here and bask in Eldergleam's warmth a bit longer." Maurice informed Cura as Inigo and Lucien proceeded to pot the Baby Gildergreen for transportation.
"Thank you for your help, Maurice." Cura expressed her gratitude. "I fear I may have come very close to committing an act of blasphemy unintentionally..."
Which would have been the opposite of her intention all along. She wished to gain Kynareth's favour; not sour their relationship. The Matron of the wilds was also the donor of the Thu'um itself. Would Cura to have done that to the Eldergleam would have been a direct betrayal to the goddess who has empowered her Voice.
"It was my pleasure, friend. In a way, I envy you getting to carry such a direct sign of Kynareth's graces." Maurice smiled as he looked at the sweet little sapling. "Take good care of it."
"That was the fastest I have ever seen a tree sprout!" Inigo remarked as he ogled the plant. "How do I know I haven't aged a year?"
Lucien laughed as he held the pot. "Well, your fur is still blue, at least."
Inigo scoffed. "Yes. At least."
As they reached the bottom the woman Pilgrim who snapped at Cura earlier approached her. "I saw you cast that foul thing off the side of the bluff. Good on you. I take back what I said."
Cura was just as relieved. "I could never bring myself to destroy something the Gods cherish so much."
She was Cura, not Alduin.
"Ah, there you are!" Vilja quickly approached her as she saw her from around a large stone.
"Anesa and I also had a good talk while you were busy... and you know what? She will help me with the bottle." Vilja spoke out the good news with a tinge of relief. "But... she needs some ingredients in order to evaluate and restore what is hidden in that bottle. And she needs our help to collect those ingredients."
Cura furrowed her brow. A list of ingredients. Always a pleasure. "Look, Vilja... I'd like to help you, but I have an entire laundry list of things I need to take care of right now. I'm not going on a scavenger hunt."
"Oh, it is no rush - I can just travel with you and find them on the road and in the forest, and in caves!" Vilja attempted to reassure her. She paused for a moment and tapped her chin as she evaluated her response. "You know, I have really enjoyed travelling with you! If you'll allow it, I'd like to travel with you a while longer."
Ugh.
Cura turned to Inigo and Lucien. "And you two? What's your opinion?"
She valued her friends' input on the matter. They were here too, so they should have a say.
Inigo nodded. "I have enjoyed Vilja's company very much! I think she should stay with us!"
Lucien shrugged. "I don't know her well enough yet, but if I could handle spending nights with a vampire, I'm sure I could handle a lady Bard."
Cura closed her eyes and gave it a moment of silent thought before responding. Then she exhaled. "Well... all right. I suppose you can stay with us."
"Oh, how sweet of you! Thank you so much!" Vilja exclaimed as she pounced on Cura and wrapped her arms around her shoulders suddenly, pulling the Breton into a light embrace and then quickly releasing her before she could protest. "There is one thing, though..."
Cura clicked her tongue. Of course there was a catch. "Yes?"
"As you are helping me, I of course want to help you, too. I understand that of course you also have many important things to do." Vilja sympathized. "If I can be of any use for you, I'll be happy to help out... just want you to know that. So if you just let me tag along, I'll look for the ingredients meanwhile. Of course, it would be great if you collect some of them."
Cura turned to Inigo and Lucien. "All right, boys, we've all got to keep our eyes peeled."
"My eyes will be so peeled, you will think to make an Apple Pie of them!" Inigo expressed jokingly as he made circles with his fingers and held them up to his eyes, motioning back and forth.
Vilja held up a paper with recent writing on it, which she handed to Cura. "Anesia and I made lists of the ingredients. Maybe you could take care of this list and look around for the ingredients."
"Okay, and then?" Cura was growing impatient.
She looked at the list of ingredients, and they read:
"2 Mammoth Tusks
2 Fly Amanita
1 Mudcrab Chitin
3 Slaughterfish Scales
2 Taproots
1 small pearl "
It seemed simple enough, though getting Mammoth tusks could be a hassle.
She would much rather be fighting the black dragon right now than doing this. It would be preferable.
"It would balso be incredibly nice if you also carried the ingredients and the list until you have collected all of them. That will make things easier for me." Vilja spoke in sugar-coated lemon.
That did it.
Cura's frustration became incredibly obvious, and she snapped at the Nord. "What do I look like to you, a Courier? A servant? I'm the Dragonborn! I will not be used as somebody's pack mule!" She clenched the list tightly between her hands, causing a chill to run up Vilja's back.
Vilja held up her hands. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry - I meant no disrespect!"
Cura stormed off through the lush greenery.
Lucien shuddered. "Gods... watch yourself, Vilja. I've never seen her snap at someone quite like that before..."
"Yes, you are new, so I will give you a friendly reminder: Cura is nice, and she loves to help other people, but she does not like being used or taken for a fool." Inigo explained to the newcomer.
"Noted." Vilja shrugged nervously.
"Can we go now? This plant... isn't as light as it looks." Lucien griped as the baby Gildergreen weighed him down a tad.
Inigo offered some assistance, supporting the pot from below. Vilja walked beside them, poised to catch it in case it should tilt.
"It really was nice of her to offer to help Danica with the tree. It is a sad sight in Whiterun." Vilja expressed.
As soon as they reached the outdoors, Cura held onto her friends and they Fast Travelled back to Whiterun.
Mysteriously, the original Gildergreen seemed to have vanished, leaving an empty hole in the center of the Wind District.
Danica stared at the hole in horror, and Kodlak, Aela and Farkas of the Companions, Heimskr, Brenuin, Lucia, and some of the Guards looked at the barren spot in awe.
"What happened here?" Cura asked, a little concerned.
"The - the Gildergreen..." Danica trembled. "It was torn up out of the ground... I don't even know how it happened! It... it was lifted into the sky, and then it disappeared!"
Kodlak stepped forward and touched the empty plot. "It must have been the work of the Gods."
"The Gods uprooted that ugly old thing? Fine by me." Aela scoffed.
"What am I to do now?" Danica sat down, disheartened. "I can't run the Temple without the support of people who are inspired by the Gildergreen."
Cura gently touched her shoulder. "Don't worry; we have a new Gildergreen!"
On cue, Lucien, Inigo and Vilja brought the sapling down to the hole in the ground and removed it from the pot.
Cura dug a small hole and Danica helped transplant it there, and blessed the soil surrounding it.
"For the first time, I can actually see around the tree!" Farkas exclaimed as he stared at the Hall of the Dead and the walkway proceeding it off in the distance, formerly obscured from Jorrvaskr.
Danica lashed out at Cura for the absurdity of it. "How can this little tree bring new worshippers?"
"Isn't Kynareth's tenant being that renewal is more important than maintenance?" Cura asked.
"I... you're right of course." Danica relented as she realized the veracity of it. "It can be hard to hear the winds of Kynareth when all you hear are the rabble in the temple. Death feeds new life. I'm sure that, in time, this little sapling will grow into a new Gildergreen that will tower over Whiterun." she sighed bittersweetly. "I may not live to see this little one grow into a new Gildergreen, but I can be remembered as the woman who planted it. Thank you."
"I'm certain it's going to grow into an inspiring tree; one that travellers will shudder to behold." Kodlak stated.
Suddenly, Danica felt a warm wind surround her, and her hooded robes rustled under its embrace. "Kynareth... I feel her presence in me again..."
"Sky above, voice within."
At their heart, the Greybeards and the Priesthood of Kynareth weren't so different.
"Ah!" Inigo grabbed his head with both hands and fell on his backside. "Agh! It is happening again! It feels like my mind is on the end of a rope!"
Everyone in the immediate vicinity stared at him with concern.
"Inigo! Are you okay?" Vilja worried at the sight of the unfamiliar spectacle.
"Danica! Do something!" Cura pleaded with the priestess.
Danica hurried to Inigo and placed her hands on his head.
"No, wait! I see something! A cabin? Trees? A face! It is fading. It is under the rug. Aagh!" Inigo reached out towards the air as the pain consumed him. And then, just like that, it was over. "Thank the gods, it is weakening. Ugh. It is over. Ow."
"What did you see, exactly?" Danica asked Inigo directly.
"I saw brief flashes of a cabin in the snow. It was surrounded by trees. What is happening to me?" the Blue Khajiit squeaked as the feeling of powerlessness took him.
Cura knelt down beside her cat friend and embraced him. "You're going to be all right, Inigo, I swear it on my honour as a Vigilant, and as Dragonborn."
"Thank you, my friend." Inigo reciprocated.
Danica swiftly took to Inigo once Cura released him. She touched his forehead. "I'm going to help you get to the bottom of this - I can't stop it, but I can help you trace the other side."
"What do you mean?" Cura needed clarification.
"All summoning spells have an origin point: an anchor. I'm going to locate the source. I'll pinpoint where these mind vibrations are coming from." Danica explained. "Wherever the person who is tormenting you is, I'll find him."
"Thanks, Danica." Inigo massaged his forehead.
"You all did me a kindness, so I will repay it." Danica smiled for the first time in ages.
"You mentioned a face. Did you see something else, Inigo?" Vilja called attention to that detail.
"A man perhaps. A bearded man. I did not recognize him. The flashes were very fast and confusing." Inigo shook it off.
"Hold still." Danica said as she began to concentrate over him. A blue luminous glow emitted from her hand.
"Do you know this man? Is it Felix, maybe, or someone else from your past?" Cura proposed, hearkening back to one of Inigo's old stories.
Inigo shook his head. "No - no, I do not recognize this man. What does he want with me?"
"Inigo, did you piss off any of the wizards in Winterhold?" Lucien stood slanted with his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side expectantly.
"Err... besides that wizard Nelacar, no." Inigo admitted. "I was on my best behaviour! ...Except when I destroyed Tolfdir's Alembic by mistake and hid it. But that was not his face I saw, so I am at a loss."
"Did you recognize the cabin?" Lucien asked.
"No, but something about the landscape was familiar. I wish I could remember where I have seen it before." Inigo pondered.
"You said there was snow; it could be somewhere in the North, like the Pale or Winterhold. Or Northern Eastmarch." Cura proposed. She clicked her tongue. She wanted to help, but she wasn't certain how.
"You said "it is under the rug." What were you talking about?" Lucien asked.
"Yes, something small and shiny. A coin? A ring? No. I cannot remember. I think my brain is broken." Inigo shuddered.
"A-ha!" Danica exclaimed. "I have you now..." The light dimmed at last, and she removed her hands from Inigo's head.
"You found the culprit?" Inigo asked.
Danica nodded. "Quickly, hand me your map!" She extended a hand to Cura, who quickly handed her the travel map. The Priestess quickly circled a small area at the top of a mountain in the Pale, near a "Bloodchill Manor". "Right there. Your stalker is there, at this very moment."
"Then there's no time to lose." Cura stated. "We're going to fix this problem with or without the sword."
Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. "I would be much happier with the sword; he could be dangerous! What does this man want with Inigo anyway?"
Danica shook her head and shrugged. "I can't read a person's intent. You'll have to ask him that yourself."
"Thanks for your help, Danica." Cura expressed her gratitude to the Priestess, who opened the Temple door and headed inside.
"Hopefully it doesn't happen again." Vilja stated.
"OK. If it does happen again and my brain tries to escape through my nose, push it back in please." Inigo shuddered.
Then, it hit him again, but his body seemed to be getting yanked inwards, almost as if he were threatening to implode. "Graaaah! My friend. My mind is being tugged again! It is very strong this time. I see wooden posts upright in the snow, a tower. I recognize the tower!" Inigo frantically jumped up and down. "Eurgh! I see the cabin again and the door is locked tight."
Then the phenomenon faded, and Inigo exhaled deeply. "It is receding. It is over... for now. My head is pounding. Ow."
"That does it." Cura snarled. "A tower with wooden posts sticking upright out of the snow? That sounds a lot like Snowpoint Beacon. I used to walk around the Pale on days of freedom. There are some good Snow Thrush Eggs to be found around there. Unfortunately, Bandits often make camp there, too."
Cura checked the map where Danica had circled the location, and it was near Snowpoint Beacon, just a short hike up the mountain from it.
"Oh, so you have done scavenging before, have you?" Vilja called her out.
"For the Vigil. When I was just a mere Vigilant to be bossed around by everyone else." Cura put it simply. "I used to look for potion ingredients for them. It was the only time I was allowed to go past the city of Dawnstar. I know the region around there. Stuhn's Ravine, Snowpoint Beacon, and many more small locations. Now, let's get going before Inigo really gets hurt!"
"You know... now that I think about it, I think I camped there once, long ago." Inigo recalled.
Cura reassured her Khajiit friend. "We're going to get to the bottom of this. Don't worry."
Inigo shook his head. "I'm not worried! You are worried!"
Cura had no shame in admitting it. "Yes, I am. I want to ensure my friends are okay. Are you okay to Fast Travel?"
Inigo shrugged. "If I throw up, I throw up. I hope I will throw up in his face."
Lucien laughed. "That maniac would certainly deserve it."
Vilja took Cura and Inigo's hands, and Cura held Lucien's hand, and focused her gaze onto Snowpoint Beacon.