Chapter 6- The Elf
Favnir
The ivory world was tinted in a brilliant shade of blue. The sun had not yet risen over the mountaintops, but whispers of its light surrounded the landscape in a cerulean hue. The blizzard deposited inches of the fluff on every surface, and my boots were the first to break a path in the road. If not breathtaking enough, the thick clouds had completely vanished. The result was a clear as crystal view of the endless night sky. The multitude of stars were muted only by the dancing waves of purple and green light. The borealis was my favorite spectacle in all of Skyrim.
My night in the Palace of Kings gave me ample opportunity to rest- yet I slept no longer than a few hours. I had pondered every possibility of what could have happened at Ivarstead given the report and Shari's supposed witness. There was no doubt in my mind that the Thalmor were making an advance and using dragons to do so. What was deeply troubling, and what I could not reason, was why the dov were willing to follow them.
I knew the Thalmor were a dangerous mix of mages, warriors, and politicians, but even that combination couldn't sway the beasts of the sky. By all accounts, dragons submitted to power and prophecy. Alduin acted out of certainty that it was his destiny to destroy the world. Odahviing pledged himself to me after I bested him with my Thu'um. The dov were a primal race, but their stubborn customs and mindsets ensured they would remain strong. It was extremely unlikely the Thalmor had learned the Voice in the short years since we drove them away, and I doubted there was some unrevealed prophecy that I hadn't stumbled across. The unknown was simply maddening.
I crossed Windhelm's bridge and headed back towards the bank where I had first left Odahviing. It wasn't surprising that he hadn't returned. I had no expectation for him to wait through the storm all night. Even his tough scales and immense body heat couldn't keep out the snowiest gale. Knowing him, he was probably sleeping on the sheltered porch of High Hrothgar. The Greybeards adored him and tended to his every need. Even if he wouldn't admit it, I knew the dragon loved the attention. It was the closest thing the beast would ever know to leading a dragon cult- even if the cult consisted of four elderly pacifists.
I turned my gaze to the looming peak west of me, staring at the silhouette in front of the dancing sky lights. “Odahviing!” I called out, the shout trembling the ground around me. The force knocked loose the snow from the trees above me, drenching me in a thick layer of fluff. I scoffed as I shook the snow off my shoulders and hood. Clearly, I had not thought my shout through, and luckily, my friend hadn't been around to ridicule me for it.
I didn't have to wait long to see if he had heard my summons. A roar echoed in response as the beasts shadowy form darted across the night sky. I felt myself smile as he angled towards me, deciding to light himself on the road away from the half-frozen river. I wasn't looking forward to getting soaked more than I was. “Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin,” he yawned, his jaws opening and closing a few times as he stretched. “I was wondering when you would leave the company of nobility.”
I smirked at him. “I missed you too,” I teased him, drawing an amused growl from his lips. I dusted the remaining snow from my shoulders. “Any luck with Paarthurnax? Has he seen anything?”
“Geh, kogaan,” he nodded, looking me over. He pressed his cheek against my body with a chuckle. “Did you fall in the river? You're wet and cold.”
I furrowed my brows and a scoff. “No...” His steady glare pushed for an explanation but I wasn't going to humor him. “Let's just... focus. What did Paarthurnax say?”
The dragon lifted his head with a hum. “The fight outside of Ivarstead caught his attention, but by the time he arrived the dovah had left. Ven neben viing, he was spurred on by fear. What other explanation could answer for cowardice?” He looked back up towards the mountain. “He searched last night for signs of our prey. The Rift revealed a wandering dovah, but he retreated to the distant Cyrodiil.”
I nodded, walking to his side as I thought aloud. “Southern Skyrim seems to be where he's making himself known then.” Odahviing lowered his body as I pulled myself upon his shoulders. “I want to see where it happened in Ivarstead first, then we can patrol the border and see if anything turns up.”
“Brit uth,” he agreed, stretching out each of his limbs before readying himself for flight. The loud pops and tensing of his muscles was a sign that his body had rested well during the night. I was happy he had slept better than I had at least. “I am interested in the scene as well. If his scent still lingers, or blood stains the earth, I will be able to track him.”
Once I was settled and the dragon's body had readjusted to daily living, he ascended to the skies above. It was extraordinary that no matter how high we climbed, the sky remained unchanged. The brilliant strands of color were never within grasp; so much further were the stars and planes beyond. I wanted to grasp it with my own hands, feel the energy that caused them to dance merrier than patrons at parties. If I could, I wondered if they would teach me their secrets and show me new magics that were just out of sight.
Ivarstead wasn't too far away as the dragon flies, so we were able to reach the hamlet just as the sun took its place in the sky. The low light gave way to it's suffocating glory, making my investigation much easier. The town itself was just beginning to wake, so those that were out already took caution as we passed overhead. Following the horrific event earlier in the week, I could understand why.
My eyes settled on an opening in the Rift's canopy that was unmistakably force. Snapped limbs and the absence of snow were obvious indicators that the massive beast had forced his way into the forest. Odahviing's keen eyes noticed the opening just as I did, and he instinctively angled towards it. “He wasn't subtle,” I noted. “Even if the trees blocked him from view, the Stormcloaks had to have heard him. They would have had time to escape if they wanted.”
“Perhaps they didn't want to then,” he muttered in reply. “You Nords are stubborn, ignorant creatures. If the dovah threatened their pride, they may not have backed down.”
“Gee, thanks, Odahviing,” I grumbled as he landed in the new clearing.
“You know it to be true,” he chuckled, looking over his shoulder at me as I slid off his back.
“Aye, perhaps,” I responded, but my mind was already fixated on the task at hand. Immediately, I had a better idea of what had occurred. Indentions in the remaining snow placed the dragon nearly dead center in the clearing. In front of where he would have stood, scorches on the earth and flora spread out in a cone shape. Three misshapen areas in the midst of the charring protected the fauna from the burns; that was where the soldiers had been when they fell.
The report appeared to be fairly accurate. I saw no other signs of anyone else being there upon first glance. When I began to investigate the indentions- attempting to estimate the size of the dragon- I noted something peculiar. A ring, a perfect circle, had been burned into the ground between the beast's wings. I knelt down to get a better look when I felt Odahviing's breath on my neck. “It smells of death and arcane fire,” he commented.
“This has to be a flame cloak spell,” I told him, running my fingers through the ash. “If this dragon's Thu'um is precise enough to burn a perfect circle, maybe I should be taking lessons from them.”
Odahviing hummed in agreeance. “Zul los suleyk, no ullid. His flames devoured the soldiers and the land without regard. This was mage's magic.” He drew a deep breath, tasting the air around us. “The scent is unfamiliar,” he mentioned in regards to discovering the mystery dragon's identity.
“That's alright,” I sighed. “We have more information that we did before at least. There was someone else here with the Stormcloaks that fled before Paarthurnax arrived.” I looked back up at him, trying to decide the best course of action. “Let's scout out the area around Riften and work our way back towards Helgen. If he's around, I'm sure we'll see him.”
The dragon nodded as I climbed on his shoulders one more time. “Cyrodiil would be another place to search. Perhaps they will have more information about this dovah than even those of Skyrim.”
“Aye,” I called out over the noise of his flapping wings. He snapped more branches than were already damaged before, not that it made much of a difference. “I might be able to convince some of the townsmen in Bruma to keep an eye out for us.”
A bulk of our morning was spent traveling from Riften towards the re-established city of Helgen. The flight that normally wouldn't have taken much longer than an hour stretched over the length of three or four. It was mid-morning by the time Ivarstead came back into view, but I blamed that on our careful scrutiny of the landscape below us. Other than occasionally bare trees and snapped limbs, our quarry gave no indication of where he could have gone. We had to be cautious, not giving him any room to get away a second time. It was time consuming, but well worth it if we were to find the beast's hiding spot.
Interestingly, there were very few travelers on the roads. Other than a Khajiit caravan and a small patrol of Stormcloaks closer to Riften, I hadn't noticed many signs of life. The winter weather did well to keep everyone- even desperate brigands- in their homes. Even if I didn't give me the opportunity to question possible witnesses, it did make my job a little easier. I didn't have to worry about saving civilians caught up in our crossfire.
Just north of Lake Honrich, Odahviing growled. “Dur...” He blinked several times, as a brilliant light from below reflected in his eyes. I chuckled softly, looking down to see what had caught his attention. We flew at just the right angle for a traveler's shiny armor to reflect the sun into his eyes.
While his reaction was a touch dramatic, it did allow me to pick up on the only other soul brave or foolish enough to travel with a dragon about. “You'll be alright, you big baby,” I taunted him. I ignored the growl that followed, pointing to below us. “Let me talk to them. I want to see if they've seen or heard anything.”
The dragon looked over his shoulder with a snarl. “I can drop you, if you wish.” He chuckled as his empty threat was met with silence. “I doubt they would be so calm if they had, Favnir, but I will take you to them nonetheless.” Odahviing carefully circled back towards the traveler, immediately drawing her attention with a short roar. She looked worried, and rightfully so, as we circled overhead. She didn't run or try to hide though, much to my surprise. That gave me the opportunity to look her over.
The armor was an alarming gold, engraved and embellished with fine Elven craftsmanship. She carried a pack on her back that brimmed with spare clothing and a bedroll; the collection had me figured she was a traveling mercenary or sell-sword. If her equipment wasn't suspicious enough, heavy bruising and scarring on her exposed flesh revealed she had been through some trauma- and recently. Her tanned, yellow skin and sharp, knife-like ears were only further condemning traits. The Altmer was an oddity in Skyrim, and fate had placed her right into my hands.
“Hold, please!” I called out to her, walking from Odahviing to meet her where she stood. My ally followed close behind. By his body language alone I knew he shared my suspicions. “Nice day for a stroll, eh elf?” I noted, idly. She did not look the slightest bit pleased.
“It was,” she stated blandly, the heavy Nordic accent catching me off-guard. “Seems I can't go a day without interruptions, though.” Her eyes shifted to the dragon as his head lowered beside me. A low growl vibrated the air around us. “Can... Can I help you?” she asked quickly, annoyance saturated in her tone. It was... distantly familiar.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked plainly, scratching my chin. “I've seen you before, I'm certain. Where are you from?”
The Altmer's eyes narrowed. “I travel. I don't call anywhere my home.” She looked me over, clearly trying to decide within her own mind what to make of me. “I was in Winterhold for a time, though...”
“Ah, that's where it was!” I exclaimed in realization. She blinked in surprise, so I offered her my clarity. “Nelacar's little apprentice, right? He brought you into the College quite a few ti-”
“Yes,” she cut me off, her expression making it painfully clear that she didn't want me to delve into the memory further. She drew a deep breath. “I lived with Nelacar for awhile.”
My memories of the elf were faded, blurred by the years and events that separated our last meeting. I knew that the College Masters had placed her in the care of their ex-Colleague, though the reasons remained a secret from all outside of their circle. She was not much younger that I, but quite a bit more timid. I never would have thought that girl would have cast a spell in her life; now, it appeared, she was a full time warrior.
I cleared my throat as I extended my hand to her. “Perhaps you don't remember me? Favnir Silver-Tongue,” I introduced, grinning widely, “Dragonborn and Savior of Tamriel.”
Her honey-colored eyes shifted from my hand to meet my expectant gaze. “I know who you are,” she told me, annoyance dripping from her words. I withdrew my hand as she made no attempt to greet me properly. “I'm just wondering why we're still having this conversation.”
Her open defiance caught me off guard. Where others cried for my attention, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. I supposed it was fitting- especially for an Altmer like herself- but it only aroused my suspicions further. I had to keep a level-head with my approach however. “Yes, well... You didn't really give me reason to believe you remembered me.”
“Why? Because I didn't fall at your feet and worship the ground you walked on?” She crossed her arms over her chest with a small smirk. “And you think Altmer are full of themselves...”
Odahviing snarled behind me, causing the woman to flinch. “Dein rot, Fahliil!” Her eyes shifted to his bared teeth as he leaned closer beside me. “You speak to the Dovahkiin! Guard your words or you will fall silent all together.”
“It's fine, Odahviing,” I told him, the grin returning to my lips. “I know not everyone is grateful that I saved their lives.” She rolled her eyes as I continued, “So, Apprentice, where are you heading?”
“My name is Zenoya,” she stated sternly. “I shouldn't have expected you to remember given the so many more important people you deal with. It shouldn't really be your concern where I'm traveling to, should it?”
She was carefully guarding her words. Her arms crossed at her, tensing and releasing with nervous energy. Her gaze constantly shifted from me to Odahviing. Whether she realized it or not, she was giving me plenty of answers by her body language alone. “I just want to make sure you make it there safe is all,” I insisted, knowing full well she read through the lie. “There's a dragon about; attacked and killed some soldiers completely unprovoked the other night. I can't risk anyone else getting hurt.”
Her jaw clenched as she debated on speaking. Instead a silence fell between us as she let her arms fall to her sides. “That's awful,” she finally stated. “Well at least the Nords have the mighty Dragonborn to keep them safe.” The malice in her tone overwhelmed any trace of sympathy she might have had. She hated me, and it was starting to tick me off. “I suppose you better get moving again to find that dragon.”
“Where are you going?” I insisted, stepping towards her. I must have let a little more of my frustration show that I wanted. Her facade faded quickly. “I don't have time for games.”
Zenoya's brow furrowed. “Riften, if it's all the same to you. I have a contract to pick up and I'm running late for it.” She attempted to step around me, but I cut her off.
“Where did you come from?” She groaned in annoyance. “I'll let you leave as soon as I get some answers, elf. Until then, we'll just stand in the road like a couple of drunks.”
The woman's fist clenched but she made no move to strike me. A deep breath from her bruised lips calmed her welling anger enough to speak in only a slightly irritated tone. “I'm going to Riften. I'm coming from Helgen. No, I didn't see your dragon. No, I don't know what happened in Ivarstead. Does that answer everything?”
I scoffed softly. “You're awfully insufferable, aren't you elf?” I was almost ready to dismiss the woman when I felt a spark of encouragement. “I... I didn't say anything about Ivarstead.” The statement caused visible panic within the woman, which only comforted me more. “How could you possibly have known about it if you hadn't passed through?”
Zenoya's panic lingered as she glanced up at Odahviing, he lifted his head, staring down at her intently. “I... heard about it in Helgen. I suppose someone wanted to warn them about the dragon,” she tried to convince us.
“Your heart beats faster,” Odahviing growled, “and your bones rattle your armor. You are lying.” His tail flicked , knocking the snow from one of the trees behind us. “It is unwise to lie to a dragon.”
The elf sighed heavily, looking away from both of us as she tried to come up with some excuse. There was no reason; she had already been caught in the lie. “I... I passed through Ivarstead,” she told us, chewing the inside of her lip. “That's all.”
I was clever enough to know there was more to it. She knew something. It would be Oblivion trying to coax it out of her, however, and killing her wouldn't help us get any answers. “That's all you had to say,” I told her, a forced chuckle in my tone. “There's no reason to lie about it; after all, it was a dragon who killed those men, not a mer.” My reassurance seemed to calm her for the time being. Odahviing on the other hand just seemed confused at my sudden change of tone. “That's all we needed to know, Zenoya. If you hadn't seen the dragon around Ivarstead, that means we can look somewhere else.”
The red beast behind me shifted his weight as he eyes me, but knew well enough to stay silent. The elf on the other hand was very suspicious. “So, I'm free to go?” she asked, adjusting the strap on her pack.
“Aye!” I chimed in happily. “We can continue to Riften right now. Odahviing, why don't you continue to Helgen and keep looking for the dovah.”
“Wait,” she asked, inquisitively. “'We'? As in, you and me?”
“Aye,” I responded again, grinning at the elf. “That isn't a problem is it? That dragon is still out here. Like I said, I just want to make sure you make it safe.” My statement left her fuming. I knew she didn't want me coming with her, but that was the only way I knew she was going to tell the truth. Besides, the trip could have provided some opportunities to retrieve that information she was safeguarding within her mind.
The elf tapped her foot impatiently, a heavy breath leaving her slightly parted lips. “Fine,” she agreed, much to my surprise. Even though her actions spoke otherwise, she continued, “I wouldn't mind the company anyways.”
“Excellent,” I mused, putting my attention back on Odahviing. A slight nod of his head told me he understood my intentions. “I'll let you know if we find anything- or if I need your help.”
The red dragon looked over the waiting elf once more. “I will wait for your command,” he responded hesitantly. As much as he trusted me to carry about by myself, he was ever reluctant to leave my side. He blamed it on my stupidity; I knew it was because he worried. I offered him a reassuring smile as he spread his wings, shrouding the two of us in his shadow. It was only a moment before he was lifted from the ground, and only a few moments more before he disappeared from view behind the trees.
I looked back at the elf as she watched him, her expression betraying her convictions. She noticed my staring and met it with a hostile glare. “Barring any more interruptions, we'll reach Riften in an hour or so. I still don't understand why you needed to follow me there.”
“Dragons are dangerous creatures,” I reminded her.
“I can think of worse.” Her quick response made me smirk. Zenoya was cunning, I'd give her that. Most mages I met had that innate ability.
“Indeed,” I purred. With a swift motion, I gave her an over-exaggerated bow, motioning for her to lead the way. She didn't seem to like that; she didn't seem to like anything I did, really.
The two of us progressed to Riften at a reasonable pace. She was quick to dodge any attempt at idle conversation with short responses, apt to let me know that my presence was an unwelcome annoyance in her daily life. If I was honest with myself, I wasn't too keen to stick around her anyways. Everyone admired me, or at the very least was grateful for what I did. That Altmer didn't care about me at all. As far as I knew, I had never done anything to her. She had come to hate me of her own accord. I didn't want that simple fact to sway my opinion of her, but she was looking increasingly guilty.
Noon fell upon us the moment we reached the city gates. The soldiers, clad in brilliant blues and silvers, were a little reluctant to let the pair of us in. Their leery gaze rested upon my Altmer travel companion before shifting to me. I smiled brightly in greeting. “Good afternoon! Is this gate closed?”
They stared at one another before the female guard shook her head. “Not at all, Dragonborn,” she started, rubbing the back of her neck. She looked a little embarrassed as her partner rushed to open the gate for us. “Forgive my reluctance. It's been a long day, I suppose.”
I chuckled softly. “It has, and it's only halfway through.” I started forward, passing the Altmer who just watched the scene completely dumbfounded. “Are you coming, Zenoya?”
“A-Aye,” she stammered. I stopped once I was inside the city to look back at her. She looked pleasantly surprised as she followed me, carefully stalking past the gate guards as if they had a personal vendetta against her. “It's never been that easy to get in here before,” she told me, sighing in relief.
I looked her over, raising my brow. Her hand rested in her satchel, gripping what looked to be a letter of some kind. She released the page as she breathed a sigh of relief and actually smiled. I didn't understand what she meant, but I was afraid asking would turn her mood once more. “Yes, well, I suppose that's one of the perks of being me.” She glanced back at me with a gentle smirk and eye roll.
The city of Riften was a bustling hub of energy. Traders from various professions peddled their goods around the square directly in front of us. I could hear the children inside Honorhall chattering as their tutor tried to get their attention. The distant sound of hammer on metal and the smell of molten steel suggested the blacksmith was busy trying to keep up with the daily demands. The giant bear head banners billowed in the breeze, casting shadows onto us as we walked. It was a lot busier than I remembered, but I assumed that was because no one wanted to leave the warmth and safety of the walls.
Zenoya looked around beside me, taking in the sights just as casually as I did. “Gods, these people are busy. No wonder no one notices the Thieves Guild around here.” I found myself agreeing. The city of thieves had become that way for some reason. The loud, drunk, material-invested citizens weren't likely to notice their purses being cut from their hips, even in broad daylight.
“Aye, so just keep an eye out. The guard has cracked down on the guild, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are still out and about.” She snickered quietly, turning my full attention back to her. “What?”
“You trust the guard to handle them?” She shook her head with a smile. “I bet they've bought off most of your 'guard' by now. They might be soldiers, but they're still people.” She started walking as she added, “People will do insane things for the right amount of gold.”
I furrowed my brow as I followed her. “You say that as if you speak from experience.”
“I'm a mercenary,” she sighed. “Of course I speak from experience.” Zenoya led me further into the city towards the large mansion that served as the Jarl's hall. She stopped just short of the bridge, glancing over the railing into the frozen lake water below. “I let you follow me this far, but I'm going to ask you not to follow me further.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you have to wait on me, I'll meet you right here in a few minutes.”
“What if a dragon attacks you when you're gone?” I asked, the jest in my voice causing her to frown. “Who's this contact of yours anyway?”
She started to speak but hesitated. I wasn't entirely sure of the “code of mercenaries”, if that was even a thing, but I didn't think keeping contracts a private matter was a rule. After all I “protected” her that far, so she owed me a little bit of information. “Sibbi Black-Briar,” she stated after a moment or two. “I'm supposed to meet him in his home.”
I looked over her shoulder at the Black-Briar Manor with a small smirk. “Oh, aye? Sibbi and I are well acquainted with each other.” I chuckled. “Murderer, swindler, liar... He has a laundry list of honorable traits. Why in Oblivion would you have picked up a job from him?”
She drew a deep breath, already getting annoyed with me again. “As I said, people will do insane things for gold.” I wasn't entirely convinced, but the elf pressed, “Just... wait here.” She didn't wait for my protest or agreeance, turning on her heels and heading towards the Manor.
Obviously, I wasn't going to let the elf finish whatever shady deal she had with the disgraced Black-Briar- not without knowing what was really going on. I leaned over the rail to watch the ice floes bob in the water below as I waited for her to disappear inside the home. The moment she was out of sight, I conjured a spell in my hand. In a brief moment, a single flash of light, my body vanished into thin air.
The invisibility spell would last long enough, but I didn't want to miss a single word of the exchange. I jogged towards the Manor, checking the window to make sure they were not in the first room. Satisfied, I tediously turned the handle of the door without making a sound and slipped through the cracks. I left it slightly ajar as well, just in case I needed a quick exit.
“... said I needed to pick something up from you.” I caught the tail end of Zenoya's statement as I slunk across the floor in search of their location. The Black-Briars' home was a maze of rooms and corridors if you didn't know where you were going. Luckily, Maven had me over on a few occasions.
“Did she? Well, she mentioned something to me about payment.” The sly, grizzly voice of the Nord was unmistakably Sibbi's. I followed the noise to the upstairs sitting area, peeking over the stairs to watch their exchange. The elf stood- nervously out of place- in front of a large sitting chair. The raven-haired Black-Briar positioned himself across from her in his own chair, taking up as much space as possible. The arrogant convict eyed her up and down. “So, what where is it?”
“Payment? She didn't mention...” Zenoya paused as the Nord raised his hand to silence her.
“This is an exchange, sweetheart. You don't get something for nothing,” he chuckled, leaning forward in his chair. “I'd take gold, but judging by the looks of you, you don't have any on you. We'll have to come to terms in a different way.” The elf didn't respond, but I watched her physically tense. The Nord rose to his feet, fetching a sealed letter from the table nearby. He held it in front of her a moment before allowing his eyes to run over her once more. “You're a pretty young thing, aren't you?”
There was a sudden spark that filled my chest. His insinuation made my skin boil. At that moment, I couldn't care less the reason for Zenoya's temporary employment. Sibbi hadn't changed at all; he was going to coerce her into whatever his sick mind wanted for that letter. I wasn't going to stand idle.
I nearly broke my illusion with another spell before I saw the elf's hand begin to glow with the heat of flames. She held the charging spell to his throat, causing panic to replace his seductive expression. “Here's an exchange,” she growled. “Give me the letter like you promised, and I won't kill you. It's not a fair exchange, but I won't mind taking the loss.”
I was caught off-guard by her confidence. I quickly dispelled the lightning spell from my hand and listened intently. The joy I felt when I heard Sibbi beg was indescribable. “Please, don't kill me! I... Here, take it!” She took the letter with her free hand, sliding it in her satchel before allowing the flames to die down. The man scoffed, clenching his fists. “I'm a Black-Briar! I'll see to it you're hunted for the rest of your days! I won't rest until your head is on a platter!”
“Yeah, well, get in line, Black-Briar,” she taunted with a rude gesture. As she turned back towards the stairway, I noted that it was my time to leave as well. “I doubt I'll be doing business with you again. It was not a pleasure.”
The string of curses that left Sibbi's lips followed us out the door. I was careful to shut the door entirely, breaking my illusion with a secondary spell. I jogged to the railing once more, trying to conceal my slightly heavy breathing from the sudden exertion. I chuckled, the sight of the blood draining from the man's face still etched in my mind. Zenoya had guts to stand up to him like that. It was admirable.
Shortly after I had calmed my demeanor to be a tad less conspicuous, the Altmer left the Manor just as stoic as she had entered. “Oh look, you're still here,” she greeted me with a frown. My chuckle managed to draw a hint of a smile to her lips. “What? Did I miss something?”
“No, no,” I told her, waving my hand dismissively. “How did it go? Get what you needed?”
“Aye,” she nodded to me, patting the satchel at her side. Her gaze averted as shouting broke out across the plaza. The noise caught my attention as well, but the angry vendor could be handled by the guard well enough. “Are we done?” she asked softly, crossing her arms once more. “I'd like to be on my way, alone preferably.”
“Gods, you're in a hurry to leave me alone, aren't you?” I looked back at her to find her nodding. My smug grin matched her own. “Well, Zenoya, that dragon is still out there-”
“You can drop that act, Favnir,” she told me, turning away and walking back towards the gate. “I know why you're really following me, and it's not worth it.”
Interested, I picked up pace to catch up with her. “Oh? And why is it that I'm following you? I was so certain I wanted to keep you safe from dovah.”
She rolled her eyes, falling silent as we passed the gate guards again. They looked just as cautious as before, but I didn't give it a second thought. Only when we were safely out of their earshot did she continue, “You think I know something about that dragon, and you're hoping I'll slip up and tell you. You're wasting both of our time.”
“Am I wasting my time because you don't know anything or am I wasting my time because you won't tell me?” The woman growled in response, running her fingers through her brunette hair. I pressed, “You know, not answering makes you look pretty guilty.”
She stopped, glaring at me over her shoulder. “I'm sure being an Altmer makes me look pretty guilty as well, right?”
“It certainly doesn't help.” I hadn't realized the weight of my answer until the words had already left my lips. In her own private way of probing, she was trying to judge my intentions. I had let her know more than intended. She scoffed as she began walking again, picking up pace. “You know what I meant!” I called as I followed after her.
“Aye, I know what you meant,” she grumbled, a weak venom in her words. “You meant I looked like someone you should hate- an Altmer, a Thalmor- so you should try to find my guilty of something. You and every other Nord Skyrim have the same predictable mindset.” Her anger fueled laugh echoed across the still lake waters. “You're taking a much more proactive approach, I admit, but I expected some over-the-top response from the Dragonborn.”
The way she said my title in such a mocking way ignited a charge. “You hate me,” I retorted, gritting my teeth. “It's no different. Or perhaps it is: I saved your life! Your hatred towards me is completely undeserved!”
“I deserve yours then?” The question caught me off-guard, as did her sudden stop. She turned to face me, her bright yellow eyes staring straight through me. “What did I personally ever do to you? What did I do to any Nord?”
I started to respond in haste, but allowed myself to think a moment. It was another probing question, yet I had no idea what she wanted me to say. I tried to meet her gaze just as intently, but my eyes began to wander. The dark blue and purple splotches that adorned her skin were a sharp contradiction to the tanned tone. They mingled with the long-scarred burns across her face and neck, disappearing where the armor cut them off from view. They were just beginning to heal; the ordeal that left her bruised had happened recently. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
“They attacked you, didn't they? In Ivarstead?” The elf didn't answer me verbally, but unable to hold my gaze, she told me all I needed to know. “You had to have done something to set them off...”
My attempt at reasoning fell through as she muttered, “I exist. That's enough.”
Confirming that Zenoya was the one Shari saw in the hamlet eased my mind slightly. I knew her- to some degree. It was enough to reason she had no malicious intent. Still, I needed to know about the dragon and why in Oblivion he aided her in the attack. “When they took you out of the city, what happened?” I pressed. “Did you fight back?”
“I... I'm done speaking about it,” she told me, turning her back to me once more. I hesitantly stepped closer, trying to be reassuring. The guarded elf wouldn't allow it. “Leave me alone, Favnir.”
“I have to know where that dragon is, Zenoya. I can't let him go about killing Stormcloaks.” My words were ignored as she started walking once more. Frustrated, I jogged to her, grabbing her wrist in my hand. Her body tensed as she acted on instinct. I had no time to cast a ward as a firebolt from her other hand struck me in the chest.
The force sent me backwards several feet. My armor took the blunt of the hit, but I still felt a painful burning across my torso. I groaned as I tried to sit up, trying to focus my blurry vision. To my surprise, the elf hadn't ran away, nor did she make another move to attack. She looked... regretful. The spell in her hand quickly diminished as she started to step towards me. “I...” she started to speak, but couldn't choke out another syllable.
I started to reassure her, but a sudden roar from overhead drowned out my words. I sighed in relief as the red dragon circled overhead and lighted himself behind the Altmer. “I was wondering when you were going to show up,” I chuckled, casting a healing spell. My vision began to clear, but I didn't feel an ounce better.
The crimson dragon loomed over the elf, but his burning hazel gaze fell upon me. The low growl that reverberated through the air was unfamiliar and alarming. The dragon was not Odahviing, but he was definitely a Bloodfang Reaper. “Ruth Strun Bah!” he snarled at me, his tail swaying from side to side. “I have watched you toy with her long enough.”
For a moment, I thought I mistakenly felt fear. The dragon had me within his striking distance, and I wasn't exactly ready to defend myself. I carefully rose to my feet, keeping my eyes focused on his own. “Do you know who I am?” I asked, holding out my empty hands to him. “I'm the Dovahkiin, Dragonborn. You will answer to my Thu'um.”
He chuckled, lowering his head to the elf beneath him. “You hold no power over me, Dovahkiin. I am a slave to nothing.”
My eyes shifted to the woman. Zenoya's expression was unreadable, muddied by the mix of emotions she felt. “Well,” I started, “I know what happened with the dragon now.” As I crossed my arms over my chest, I looked back up at him. “Should I kill you now then, or do you want to wait until my friend arrives? He doesn't like fighting his own kind, but for you'd he'd make the exception.”
“Will you stand against a dovah and a mage with success?” He taunted, stepping closer towards me. “My strength rivals the Old One. I have no qualms to test it against the supposed Dragonborn.” That statement alone was evidence enough he was Odahviing's kin.
“Kaalfahjoor,” the elf suddenly spoke up, turning his eyes upon her. “We don't need to fight him. I got what I needed so we need to hurry back.” She glanced at me before walking to his shoulder. Surprisingly, the dragon allowed her to pull herself to his shoulders.
“Your name is Kaalfahjoor?” I asked, trying to keep his attention. I could handle them in a fight, even without Odahviing. Still, my ally was far better at identifying his kin that I was. The simple identification would give us more insight to what was really going on. “You take your orders from an elf and not the Dragonborn?” I taunted, readying a spell in my hand. “What kind of dovah are you?”
The crimson dragon snarled, turned his head as he looked at the town behind me. “How many lives can I take before you steal my soul?” The question was an obvious bluff, but I couldn't help but second guess myself. He continued, “Is it better to take the loss of your pride, or the loss of life? Hah komaan vahzah,” he grumbled softly. “Make your choice before I grow impatient.”
Leaving me with far too many variables, the dovah forced me into dispelling my magic. I scoffed as he hummed in amusement, spreading his wings. I caught the elf staring at me and voiced my displeasure, “We'll be meeting again, Zenoya. I'm sure of it.”
As the Reaper took to the sky, I growled in frustration. I should have taken him out while I had the chance. I shouldn't have felt compassion for that elf. I was letting them slip away with very few answers. The ones that I did have only left more questions. Why would the Stormcloaks attack her unprovoked? Why did that dragon help her? Those and a thousand more buzzed within my mind.
When I had a moment to think more clearly, I turned my gaze to the sky, shouting Odahviing's name once more. The ritual response of his distant roar echoed across the forest. I paced as I waited for him, fidgeting with my hands. His shadow passed over me shortly before he landed. “Something is wrong?” he asked plainly, tilting his head in concern.
“You think?” I snapped at him, immediately regretting my tone. He lowered his head, placing his nose in my pathway. I stopped to take a deep breath, gently resting my trembling hand on his cheek. When I had calmed enough to not let my anger get the better of me I told him, “That elf was saved by the dragon. She was being attacked by the Stormcloaks when he came by.”
He hummed in thought. “The hatred of men and mer runs deep. Would your kind stoop so low to attack the innocent?”
“No,” I answered quickly, furrowing my brow. As I gave the inquiry another thought however, I was less certain. “They are soldiers that are supposed to protect civilians. They wouldn't go out of their way to harass elves.” My confidence waned with every word. My dragon counterpart noticed, but chose to change the subject.
“Where is this elf now?” Odahviing asked, lifting his head as a breeze kicked up loose snow from the road. He breathed deeply as the scent of the dragon filled his nose. “Bo Nah Gut!” he snarled. “He was here!”
“Aye,” I told him with a heavy sigh. “She left with him... again.”
Odahviing's eyes ran over me several times, searching for lasting injury. The tip of his tail flicked in impatience. “You should have called me the moment he arrived. I would have ripped his flesh from his bones.”
I chuckled in response, rubbing the back of my neck. “I... wasn't thinking straight,” I admitted. His pity calmed his temperament. “Anyways, since this is a fresh scent, maybe you'll be able to tell who he is?”
“Motmahus...” he muttered softly. “I have crossed paths with many dovah. I am not certain I will know who he is unless my eyes rest on him.”
“That's alright, Odahviing,” I comforted, smiling softly. “I have his name: Kaalfahjoor.”
“Champion For Mortals,” my friend chuckled, shaking his head. “That is not a name I am familiar with.” He lowered his head back to the ground. “The scent is a mix of sea salt and trees. Valenwood comes to mind.”
I nodded in understanding. “He was a Bloodfang Reaper, just like you.” Odahviing suddenly grew rigid, his wings quivering slightly as he stared down at me. I didn't want to say he looked afraid, but he certainly looked as if he was taken aback by my statement. “Are... Are you alright?”
“I have... an idea what this dragon could be,” he started, lowering himself to the ground. I took the subtle suggestion and climbed upon his shoulders. He didn't want to linger, and I wasn't planning on stopping him from leaving. If he was unsettled by the mention of his kin, there was a good reason. “His name is unfamiliar, but with mind and breath aligned, I am beginning to remember.” I held tightly his neck as he lifted from the snowy road quickly, angling himself North. He continued once we were in the air, “A dovah of my own flesh from the land of the Fahliil...”
I stared ahead at him, gently patting his neck to comfort him. It seemed to do little. “Did he do something terrible? Was he as bad as Alduin?”
“Nid, krizaan,” he told me in response. “He was hated by Alduin, as much a traitor in his eyes as the old one.” I tilted my head in surprise. “Alduin had his prophecy, but many lost faith. He was among them.”
“So, he's on our side?” I asked, confused. “He refused my Thu'um. He threatened to burn down Riften. He doesn't exactly seem too friendly.”
Odahviing nodded slowly. “He did not fight for Alduin, but that does not make him your ally.” After a moment of silence he continued, “He was called 'Deznehkrii'. His resolve was as fickle as mortalities.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “His alliance swayed with every battle; he lingered with those he believed would win.”
I chuckled. “He sounds like a normal dragon to me.” My teasing was lost on the dragon who was too deep in thought. “What is it you're not telling me then?”
“He never lost a battle,” Odahviing responded solemnly. “His predictions were always right. Aluntiid ko miin, unad vahzah.” Slowly, I began to realize the urgency in his tone. “He has aligned with the elf. He has aligned with the Krien Fahliil.”
I drew a deep breath. If it was the same dragon, and all of Odahviing's stories rang with truth, we were in for a horrible fight. I tried to stay optimistic for the time being, though. All we had were fairy tales and prophecies, and both of us knew neither were to be trusted. I was a living testament of that. “I need to find out more about this dragon. Maybe we can find out where he's hiding...” I looked back ahead, finally realizing he was traveling the complete opposite direction of Cyrodiil. “Where are we going?”
“Your College,” he hummed. “I knew you would want to begin searching there.”
I smiled weakly. “Thank you, Odahviing.” My kindness was met with a weak chuckle that shook his body. I waited a moment before asking, “You said Dez-neh-krii was his name... What does that mean, exactly?”
My friend kept his eyes focused forward, reluctance echoed in his words, “Fate Never Kills...”
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Another fantastic chapter as always. All the great hallmarks of your writing are here with the vivid descriptions and the dragon dialogue, not to mention our protagonists finally meeting! Eagerly awaiting more.