4E 184, Markarth

Three small figures watched from a high cliff towering above Markarth as the carriage went on its way.

"Satisfied now?" a young woman turned to a teenage girl standing next to her. Her eyes were bright green, features roughened by her harsh expressions.

The girl nodded.

"Finally," the woman threw her hands in the air and turned around. "Mori, you need to stop being so foolish in the future."

"I don't like killing people, you know that," Mori didn't turn to leave and continued watching the carriage instead.

"You didn't have anything to do with that...that...Nord," disdain was evident in the young woman's voice.

"Should I have just left him there to die, Orgoch?" Mori finally turned around, her onyx eyes full of disapproval.

"Yes. We do not concern ourselves with people's affairs."

"You don't," Mori growled. "We always do something you want to do. What's so wrong with doing what I want to do once?"

"You can't form bonds with them," Orgoch frowned, concern flashing into her stern gaze. "They will only ruin you."

"But we look the same," a third voice, that of a young girl, chimed in. "I thought they were like us, just silly."

Mori and Orgoch turned. The girl had long pale blonde hair, eyes the colour of which reminded one of a vast frozen sea, a freckled face and an innocent look about her. Her facial features were still rounded by childhood, but her familial bond to the other two was clear.

"It's...it doesn't depend simply on outer appearances, Yvaine," Orgoch finally broke the silence. "You need to look at what they are doing, whoever they are."

"So...if they did what we do, they would not be bad?"

"Yes. But that's not going to happen."

"Why?"

Orgoch sighed and started walking away from the cliff. She ignored Yvaine's questions, which drew a sad and disappointed look into the girl's eyes. Nonetheless, the youngest went after the eldest dutifully.

Mori kept staring down into the valley Markarth sat in. After a while she turned around and went after her sisters.

XXX

"I don't understand why you hate killing so much, but love hunting," Orgoch mused at their campsite when she spotted a large pale coated leopard coming in with prey.

The cat spat the small elk out of its mouth and then, in an instant, turned into a woman. "It has a point. It's out of need for food. Not because of...a thing. Or just out of pure cruelty. If life has to be ended, it should not be cruel and wasteful. Or for nothing."

"You kill hagravens without a blink."

"They do twisted things and hurt their surroundings too much," Mori's eyes hardened. "But even if you see everyone that way, it doesn't mean it's true. And I do not want to end the lives of those who are not like hagravens."

Orgoch hmmph-ed and went to clean up the kill.

Yvaine looked from one sister to the other several times. In the end, she lowered her gaze.

XXX

Next day they arrived at an old juniper thicket. The trees were large and various flowers dotted the ground below them.

The sisters could feel dormant spriggans slumbering deep inside the thicket, not alarmed by their presence in the least.

They silently exchanged looks.

Without a word, the wyrd women parted and each sat down at a different part of the thicket, forming a large triangle. Each sister had her own role in this ritual, aimed at strengthening the natural magic of this place. Yvaine - elements. Rain, water in the earth, dirt, rocks around and amounts of minerals in the ground. Mori - health and spirit of beasts living around. And finally, Orgoch - the plant life and spriggans themselves.

Keeping these strong tranquil places packed with natural energy safe and going was a large part of what they were doing.

Especially in areas infested with hagravens.

It was important work.

Though, Mori couldn't help but wonder if it could be done differently and more effectively. There was a limit to what the three of them could do on their own.

She sighed.

Nature was designed to keep itself in balance. It was true magic could offset that. And people too. But on the other hand, both of those were also a part of the larger picture.

It has been so long since she last listened to a story…

She slumped. She missed warm voices around fires and chappy children. Good food eaten while the story was being told, and the warmth of a clan.

Her thoughts shifted to the dark haired youth. He had just seen his friend die. And that hagraven has been trampling all over him. Orgoch did heal him, reluctantly and after they had a fight over it, but only enough for him not to die, the rest had to be done via ointments and medicine. How was he?

She hoped he would recover. When she was guiding him back to Markarth, he looked well enough, but did not get much better during the journey.

He would get better, she calmed herself. Plenty of time to rest on the carriage. For a brief moment, her attention turned to his eyes, reminding her of starlight.

Wait, what?

Her cheeks turned red and she immediately snapped back to the ritual.

XXX

"Where are we going next?" Yvaine asked, skipping back to their camp. "Can we go to the river people and play?"

"Not now, little one," Orgoch sat down, lighting her pipe.

"Aaaaw," Yvaine sat down grumpily. "Why not?"

"We still have work to do in this region. There must be a hagraven nest around here somewhere."

"And you think we can take on more of them?" Mori raised her head from cooking. "One for sure. Maybe two. But more? You are overconfident."

"We can," Orgoch puffed out. "It's time Yvaine joined in."

"What?! No!" Mori leaned forward baring her teeth.

Yvaine, seeing this, shrunk back.

"It's time she put more effort into our calling."

"Your calling! I am happy to help you, but this is not what I want from life forever! And Yvaine is too young and inexperienced to pick for herself."

"Which is why I'm picking for her. I have experienced more than you two, so I'm wiser."

"Wiser my ass," Mori slammed a lid on their stew pot. "You're not wise, you're aloof, you hag!"

"You take that back," Orgoch snarled. As she did so, the shadows around her got darker and the grass she sat on grew wilder.

"Or what?" Mori growled, showing her prolonging teeth. A wolf's howl cut through the air, soon followed by others.

"I will cut you out of our coven."

Mori laughed. "Is that supposed to be a threat? I'll go on my own!" She stood up, her eyes gleaming in the firelight. "And Yvaine gets to decide who she wants to stay with."

"Why should she?" Orgoch hissed.

"Because we value free will, sister. Free and wild, like the aspects we master."

XXX

Few months later, Hroldan

Nothing much ever happened in Hroldan, other than occasional traveller stopping by the inn on their way to Markarth or few Forsworn stalking around. Two girls walking in the little village on their own, no travelling party, no carriage ride, nothing other than what they carried, caused a wave of curiosity laced with caution.

They were small and clearly of bretonic descent, with pale blonde hair roughly braided back. Their sun kissed complexion betrayed their familiarity with living outside, as well as their clothes, simple, warm and comfortable.

The older one had a peculiar fur cloak around her shoulders, pale and mottled, and a bow and arrows slung over it. She could have only been around fourteen years of age, but she carried herself with effortless confidence.

The little one could have been half her age, wrapped carefully in wolf fur cloak. Her pack was much smaller than the older one's, but everyone could see it was an alchemist's backpack. She was holding her sister's hand and with a happy smile on her little face scuttled forward to the inn.

They looked odd, but not like Reachwomen, so the villagers returned to their tasks without further worry after examining the two of them.

XXX

"Where are you two lasses from?" the innkeeper, who introduced herself as Eydis, asked as she brought the girls their dinner.

"Jehanna," Mori answered with a smile. Before they dared to venture out of the mountains, she stole a map and studied it thoroughly. After some pondering, she decided that not many people around are probably going to know anyone from further placed areas, but it was also placed so their lilt while speaking common tameric wouldn't be too out of place.

"What brings you here? And alone?"

"Never really knew our parents," Mori shrugged. "I'm a huntress and my sister likes herbs. We've always been on the road. Heard it might be calmer and warmer around here, so we went."

"Poor girls," Eydis sighed. "You know what, you can have the food and room for half the price. You'll need all the coin you can save up."

As the innkeeper left, Yvaine looked at Mori. "She's nice, I like her!"

Mori smiled at her and then gave her a spoon. "Eat it while it's hot. I heard someone talk about a bard, so later we can listen to some songs and stories."

"Is it going to be some we haven't heard yet?" Yvaine's eyes widened.

Mori chuckled. "Probably."

XXX

They slept in one bed, warm under the blankets, comfortable with full bellies and, in Yvaine's case, excited from a story.

Mori stopped her from drawing in the sky with clouds, as such magic would draw attention, but the little girl would not stop talking about the hero - Tiber Septim. Mori was not sure she liked him, as stories and legends often hid the truth, but the story itself was entertaining enough.

Now her sister finally fell asleep, mumbling quietly as she turned from time to time.

Mori looked into the dim darkness, easily penetrable thanks to her beast related gifts. Life now was challenging, but…she liked it. Her and Yvaine's knowledge of herbs, poultices and potions made enough coins to buy things and sometimes even bed at an inn, like now, and even if it didn't, they wouldn't go hungry, as forests were teeming with prey.

She missed Orgoch.

But also…

She didn't.

XXX

"Look, look Mori!" Yvaine jumped up and down the rock she just climbed onto. "The land is so flat and the grass is all golden!"

"Indeed," Mori looked over the plains. Eyes of both the little witches were wide with wonder.

"I never thought there could be so much flat land in the entire world," Yvaine noted after a while. "There's always been just a little bit at once."

"Let's have a closer look, then!" Mori smiled.

XXX

They sat on a rock, looking at the stars, singing old songs. A little further away, close enough to hear but also at a safe distance, a few giants sat, working on their cheese. The giantesses hummed along with the witchlings, their voices rumbling low to the ground.

Later one of the giants came to gently pat them with a massive finger.

XXX

"Why are they cutting so much wood?" Yvaine asked, gripping her sister's hand. "Won't the spriggans get angry?"

"They will, if the cutting goes too far…"

"Why are they doing it?"

"Probably to build houses. Remember? All those big houses we've seen outside of mountains were made of wood."

Yvaine frowned.

"But that's not nice."

"No."

The sisters stood in silence for a bit, watching the lumber mill work.

Mori took Yvaine's hand. "Come on, let's look for acorns and cones, we can replant some and reinforce them to grow well."

The little girl nodded solemnly and the two of them disappeared into the dark underbough.

XXX

"I don't like that town."

"Me neither," Mori agreed, looking at the tall walls of Windhelm.

"Is that where the scary Nords live?"

"Yes." Mori and Yvaine had been listening to rumours and talks, wanting to learn more about the world they newly entered, but the more they listened, the more they grew weary.

Of all the places, Windhelm was not a good place to have the Reach lilt in your speech.

Markarth was bad too, but at least you could find others like you. Not here.

"Can we stay in the mountains?"

XXX

The smell of winter hung in the fresh autumn air. The girls had rounded up their travels, coming back to the places they liked the best - Falkreath and Whiterun holds.

Not that they weren't used to harsh winters - those in the Reach were brutal. But it wouldn't hurt to have a warmer and less weathered place to stay.

Just as they were nearing a potential hideout, screeching birds fleeing that direction startled them. As they continued, sounds of fighting broke through the quiet of the forest. Clanging of metal. Rough male voices screaming over each other. Heavy steps and swearing.

They looked at each other and slid deeper into the brush, sneaking close.

Two men were fighting for dear lives against a group of bandits. Quite the number of ragged figures lay dead on the ground, clearly taken out by arrows and traps.

But it wasn't enough.

The men fought back to back, a taller heavily clad warrior with shield and axe and a smaller, slimmer man with unfamiliarly styled armor and sword.

The tall one was trying to block arrows with his shield, but there were several sticking out of his body already.

The shorter man was bleeding from a few wounds. Despite that, he remained calm. His movements were calculated for maximum efficiency.

But none of that mattered. There were too many bandits.

It reminded Mori of the fights in their frozen homeland.

She gritted her teeth. Nocking an arrow on her bow, she motioned for Yvaine to stay hidden.

She snuck a little further, rose by a tree and drew her bow. Breathe in. Aim. Her fingers released the string along with the breath slipping out of her lungs.

She didn't watch the arrow fly.

Immediately she drew another and aimed for a second archer. As he fell, the others took cover, searching for the new threat.

Mori backed into the shadows again. She pointed at the archers, moving about from cover to cover, and chirped like a bird.

Mori snuck to a different spot, preparing another arrow.

Wings fluttered between the branches.

Out of nowhere, several hawks dropped at the archers, tearing at their eyes with talons and beaks.

Before the fighting people could catch their wits, wolves entered the scene, quiet and lethal, going after the bandits' throats. Last but not least, a giant elk rushed through the brush with great noise, enraged to a point of insanity. It charged, snorting loudly. Its antlers tore through the scene like a tornado, leaving a bloody mess.

The fleeing remnants of bandits got torn down by birds, wolves and arrows.

The sudden silence was deafening.

The two men left standing watched the elk towering above them, its sides rising and falling with breaths like bellows.

It watched them back.

Mori chirped again and released the beasts. The elk quietened down, shook its head and slowly walked back into the brush. The wolves circled around, picked a few dead bodies and started feasting alongside the birds.

XXX

The men looked at each other, panting.

They slowly backed out, watching the wolves warily. As they reached the brush, the taller man's legs gave out and he collapsed onto his companion.

"Bjorn!" Falco cried out, slowing his fall and laying him on the ground.

"I think I'll drink in Sovngarde tonight…"

"Don't you dare!" Falco snapped as he rummaged through their pack.

"Oh, are the spirits here for me already?" Bjorn mumbled. "They look a little young…"

Falco's head snapped up, hand grasping a dagger. His eyes landed on…two girls. Thin and blending into the woods, looking almost like ghosts. Their eyes seemed strangely large in their faces, as if they could see more than they should.

The older one had a bow slung over her shoulder.

The little one hid behind who could only be her sister, then peeked out curiously.

Falco didn't let go of the dagger. "Who are you?" he hissed, afraid to call in more carnage. He had heard rumours about wild witches in the more forgotten places of the empire and he suspected that these two might belong to those groups. How else would the animals come to their aid?

But that didn't mean the witch-children had good intentions.

The older one raised empty hands. "Your friend is dying," she said softly, her words almost too difficult to make out through the accent.

Falco's hand resting on Bjorn's shoulder tensed.

"Let us help."

"Why?"

"I don't like for good people to die."

Falco narrowed his eyes, but he had no choice. He retracted the dagger and nodded.

The girls came over. They crouched by Bjorn's side. The older one put down their packs and said something to the younger in a language Falco didn't understand. The little girl nodded.

Falco watched as the witch-children deftly and gently took off Bjorn's armor and clothes, then prepared the wounds and took arrows out. All the while they talked their language, exchanging instructions and affirmations.

In the end, Bjorn's wounds were covered by poultices of various colours and bound. The older girl knelt down, putting both her hands on Bjorn's chest. As she did, the younger one gently fed him some sort of weird smelling potion through a straw.

Then they grew still.

The older one frowned. She started moving her mouth, as if chanting something soundlessly. Her fingers gave off a faint green glow, so sudden and short-lived that Falco doubted if he even saw right. But then the girl looked at him.

"He'll live. But you need to get him to warmth and safety. Make a stretcher."

XXX

They followed, he was sure of that. His instincts of an imperial scout were rarely off, and he felt the weird tingle in his back from time to time.

But they helped. And he didn't feel threatened, just noticed their presence.

Now that he relaxed a little, he started wondering how did two girls, witches or not, end up wandering alone in the deepest depths of the woods.

Witches should also care for their children, no? Especially girls.

After a gruelling march he finally walked through Falkreath gates. The town was gloomy, unpleasant and wet, but they had an inn and an alchemist here, so good enough.

As he and a guard he asked for help were carrying Bjorn to the inn, he saw a glimpse of two pale blonde heads among the scattering inhabitants of the town, heading towards the farms.

XXX

The door opened a little while after Mori knocked. An older Nord woman peeked out, and once she spotted the girls, her face brightened with a smile.

"Coming for a visit, my little birds?" she opened the door fully.

Mori returned the smile. "Hello, Greta."

"Greta!" Yvaine rushed from behind her sister, aiming for a hug from the woman.

Greta grabbed the girl and spun her around, both giggling. "Come in, come in, let's have some food and talk!"

XXX

The sun had set and Mori was helping Greta clean up. Yvaine lay asleep on the side of Greta's bed.

"So, what's the plan, Mori?" Greta asked in a soft voice.

"I'm not completely sure yet," the girl looked away. She was quiet for a bit, then turned back to Greta. "I would like to find some more permanent place to stay. But I don't really know anything about a life like that. And I want to be able to travel too. From time to time."

"Can't deny the cat in you, huh?"

Greta knew a great deal about her guests.

"No," Mori flashed a toothy grin. "Also, when I am a cat, I don't have to deal with milk."

"And you want to help me? The goatherd?" Greta laughed. "But on a serious note, I heard some rumours. The jarl apparently put up a bounty on the rising bandit clans around the forests, and a thane will be selected in the process. Maybe you could go look for this future thane and join their ranks."

"How is a thane going to be needed for us?" Mori tilted her head in confusion.

"Well, maybe because to be a thane, they have to own property in the hold. Right now there are only some marked patches with no houses on them available, so - help build up an estate and keep your place there."

Mori mulled the idea over. "That does sound interesting."

"Of course it does."

"How is it that you know so much, hm?" Mori grinned again. "Are you intending to move out of Falkreath?"

"Maybe," the older woman nodded. "I could for sure get more goats. Nicer cheesery. Vegetable patches. Maybe even a few pots for indoor growing. Herb garden…"

Her eyes dimmed as she got lost in thoughts.

Mori slid out of the house, leaving a neatly folded pile of clothes behind. She shifted into her wrothgarian leopard form, sneaking out of the homestead. Greta hated the cemetery, but had to look at it every day, because the farms in Falkreath were strewn around it. Every day she saw the grave of her husband and their daughter, even though she wished to forget.

Curled up in bushes outside, protected by a thick coat of fur, Mori wondered about the settled peoples.

She also wondered about the parents she never met.

Orgoch has.

On the other hand, why wonder about someone you never met and never will meet?

As she slowly drifted to sleep, her thoughts turned to the youth with star-grey eyes.