Rayla's Journey: A Skyrim Fanfiction

Rayla's Journey: A Skyrim Fanfiction:

Jump on board and read the exciting adventure from the mind of SoftPetal ! This was an incredibly fun commission to write. Be sure to start out at chapter one and see what challenges Rayla faces in her journey across the foreign land of Skyrim. (Note, the opening letter was written by SoftPetal!)

• Synopsis: A fanfiction set in the world of Skyrim, Rayla Trévidic, journeys alone to Skyrim to find her Aunt Katria, who had been sending her letters about her mission to find a long-forgotten forge. When Katria's letters stop arriving, Rayla begins on a journey to find her aunt and aid her in her search. Can Rayla find Katria and survive Skyrim's harsh environment? Prepare for an adventure about friendship, family, and all the trials of a land so treacherous.

Skyrim Story: Rayla’s Journey 

Commissioned by: SoftPetal

Written by: Danni Lynn

12/9/2022

15,000 words 

Aunt Katria’s Letter:

Markarth, Fredas, 22nd of Hearthfire

Dear Rayla,

I know I had promised to send you letters more often, but it turns out finding couriers to take back my letters can be a bit of a challenge. So as usual, this letter has turned more into a sort of journal that covers the past few weeks. And if you ever want to write back, just address your letters to your Da’s business partner, Mr. Ahrol. I will probably be in Markarth for a while, so here I can ask to have them forwarded by return courier. As you know my original plan was to spend more time in the East, but I’ve been advised against that by the keeper of the tavern in Windhelm. There’s rising tension between the Nords there and the Imperials and things are getting grimmer with every passing week. I sure hope this doesn’t escalate as it might mean I can’t visit all the places I’d hoped to visit. There’s even talk of war, but surely, they can’t be that stupid? Everyone I spoke, seemed to realize that that will only tear the province apart and not solve their quarrel one bit.

With overland travel around Windhelm becoming too risky, I went further north to Winterhold and from there joined a ship bound for Solitude. I was so excited to head out to sea again after my last sailing trip to Tamriel. but this time the weather was awful, so in the end I was just happy to have my feet on solid ground again. To think I especially waited until Second Seed for the weather to improve, and we still encountered two storms. I guess there’s no pleasing Kyne... I must have lost 6 stones during that trip. But enough of that! I’m telling you, Rayla, the city of Solitude is so amazing! It’s a city on top of a rock arch and as you sail into the harbor you actually pass underneath the city! And it’s big: walking from the gate to the Blue Palace takes almost half an hour.

I really wish I could draw as well as you do, but my drawings would never do it justice. The buildings are admittedly not as gracious as back home, but it’s all just so big and impressive.

And if you ever wish to join me and need to convince your mother, just tell her that the local tailor, The Radiant Raiment, makes the finest dresses you have ever seen! You know I am not big on dresses as they’re way too impractical, but I tell you: even I was tempted. But I wouldn’t know what to do with a dress on my trip, so I settled on 2 belts instead. Given my recent weight loss, that’s more useful anyway and I also don’t know how long my money needs to last.

So, it seems that having to change my travel plans was a good thing in the end! I ended up going to Markarth, another typical Nord city. This city is basically built into the mountain side, and it feels like one big building. Everything is connected by seemingly never-ending stairs. The highest point of the city is often hidden in the clouds that come rolling off the mountain.

While here I met Calcelmo! Can you imagine? Me, meeting the biggest authority on the Dwemer! It turns out, he oversees the dig into Йchuand-Zеl, the Dwemer city that they discovered under Markarth’s foundations. As you can probably imagine, our shared passion for history and archaeology meant we instantly hit it off. On that first night we met, we stayed up talking so long that the Inn keeper just put the wine keg on our table, wished us ‘lots of fun’ and went to bed. Haha!

But Rayla, it’s the best thing that could have happened to me. He invited me to join him on one of his expeditions into the ruins and he was so impressed by my knowledge that he offered to take me on as a research assistant. How incredible is that?! I get to explore and even get paid while I’m at it! The only downside is the Falmer, filthy creatures! We already lost a research assistant and a carrier to them. Did you know they’re actually devolved Snow Elves? I really can’t get my head around the fact you share common ancestry with these... things. Anyway, one day I accidentally dropped my hunters bow into one of the caverns. And since being unarmed here isn’t advisable, Calcelmo gave me one of the Dwemer bows we found. I don’t know what got into him because normally he is incredibly strict about cataloguing and storing every find. But I am not complaining as it’s a fantastic bow. I named it Zephyr, after the legendary bow from Dwemer lore. And when I see you again, it’s yours, Rayla! I know you always wanted to learn how to use a bow, and this is a magnificent one. The Dwemer sure knew their craft!

Now I really need to hand this letter to the courier, or he will leave without it. Please give my love to my sister, your Da and sweet Danny! I will write again soon!

Love, Katria.

Chapter One

Across vast southernly seas and warm weather, the Isle of Summerset is home to bountiful farms and trading villages along the island’s coasts. Gathered on the docks of one such village, the Trévidic family stand close as the lapping sea swells beneath the dock’s worn timbers.

Yann Trévidic is a long-time farmer and Breton who has lived on Summerset Isle since he was young. Only a head taller than the rest of his family, he is a burly man with dark hair and short beard. His yellow eyes take in the sight of his eldest daughter, Rayla, as she shoulders her pack and takes her mother’s hands in hers.  Meredith Trévidic, the matriarch of the family, holds Rayla’s hands fiercely. A Nord, she is a proud and busy woman who always kept a close eye on Rayla and her younger sister, Danny. Meredith’s red hair is bound back, and her stout height is just shy of wiry Rayla’s.

Behind the family, tall trees outline the horizon, and the docks are busy with the bustle of seamen, traders, and locals. A sharp tang of seaweed and rotting driftwood is in the air as the morning sun bespeckles the row of stucco and timber buildings facing the sea. Behind Rayla is a moored two-mast brig. A cabin sits atop the deck and shields line the sides of the boat representing various families and trading factions. Sailors carry supplies up the gangplank.

The boat will be departing to the faraway lands of Skyrim soon. Rayla feels like she is walking on clouds in the cold springtime. She is weightless with her excitement but the unknown stretching before her coming voyage chills her to the bone.

A wind lifts and pushes between the family, stirring Rayla’s dark hair—like her father’s—into a mess. She squints her blue eyes and cringes into a smile. Danny, a head shorter than her, sidles up to Rayla and grasps her arm.

“I don’t want you to go,” Danny says.

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

Rayla carries a single backpack with a bed roll. She reaches into the safety of a pocket at her breast and pulls out a folded letter on worn paper.

“I have Aunt Katria’s letters to guide me. I’ve always wanted to join her on her adventures. Now it’s finally time for me to do this. You’ll feel better when I’m on my way—saying goodbye is the worst part.”

“Not seeing my daughter for many months is the worst part,” Meredith counters.

“It looks like you won’t be back to help with the harvest in Hearthfire?” Yann asks.

Rayla shakes her head. “Dad, you have plenty of help with the farm.”

“But Aunt Katria has been gone for so long. I can’t lose—” Danny’s mouth clamps shut, and her eyebrows crumple together in fear. Rayla kneels, gently stroking Danny’s hair as her parents grasp each other.

“In the meantime, you’ll be the first one to receive my letters. Okay?” Danny looks askance, her frown deepening as she turns over her sister’s promise. Rayla puts her arms around Danny and squeezes her tight. “I won’t get lost. Everything will be fine.” Danny finally softens and hugs her sister back before letting go and stepping closer to her mother, grasping her skirts.

A bell rings behind Rayla as the ship prepares to depart. Seamen climb up the various rigging from aft to bow. Rayla tucks Aunt Katria’s letter away and straightens her pack.

“Well, I guess that’s me,” Rayla says.

Yann reaches for his daughter and pulls her into a tight hug. “When my family migrated from Camlorn, I was only eight-years old, and I still remember the journey as a great adventure.” Yan pulls away but keeps his rough hands on her shoulders, squeezing her as a look of fatherly pride warms his eyes. “You are eighteen and you are about to being the biggest journey of your life. Many dangers may be on your path, but you are a Trévidic. Adventure runs in your blood.”

Rayla smiles and touches her cheek to the back of her father’s hand.

“It shouldn’t be this way,” Meredith says. Rayla’s mother has argued against this trip for months, going to great lengths to convince Rayla to stay. “I don’t know what convinced my sister to ever leave this island. She should have been perfectly happy here. And she sends you these letters? Enticing you away from us?” Meredith wraps her arms around herself and takes a deep breath. Rayla, an ache rising in her chest, steps forward and pulls her mother close.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Thank you for letting me go, mother.”

Meredith coughs a dry laugh. “You can thank your father. I want you here.”

Rayla squeezes her mother’s hands and turns to embark on the ship. Saying goodbye definitely is not easy and while she wishes to stay—Katria’s adventure looms before her. Beckoning her onward.

Chapter Two

Many days at sea pass by. Rayla sits tucked away in her cabin in an effort to stay out of the crew’s way. New at sea, it took days to calm her stomach against the rises and pitfalls of the waves. Rayla’s cabin is shared by a few other travelers, and each has a hammock to sleep in. Sitting up with her knees tucked to her chest, Rayla fingers three gifts her family had snuck away into her backpack. From her father: a letter of credit for withdrawals from the trade guilds he belongs to.

“You will need to prepare well to fare well,” her father always said.

Rayla’s mother packed her a highland wool traveling cloak and a finely-crafted ebony dagger. Rayla picks up Danny’s gift and thumbs through it, A Traveling Guide to Skyrim, with its maps, lists of inns, and more. According to the map, her voyage is destined to sail northwest from Summerset Isle, around the countries of Hammerfell and High Rock, and then turn east to the northernmost coast of Skyrim, to dock in Solitude.

The boat sways as Rayla flips to the blank pages at the back of her book where she will log her journeys. Her hammock creaks and her heart hammers. It feels strange to sit still at the start of such a journey. What will befall her when she makes landfall in Skyrim? What adventures await?

*** 

After weeks at sea, the wintery springtime lands of Skyrim come into view. A land ravaged by dragons, traveled by many different factions, and bands had been—until recently—torn apart by war. Due to Aunt Katria’s letters, Rayla was able to plan her passage but as she stands on the deck of the brig, seeing the nighttime land before her, her heart swells at the majesty of it all.

If dragons can fill the world with shock and fear, the silhouetted skyline of Solitude is a close contender in awe and dominating sights. The brig pulls into the shallows of the Sea of Ghosts, as sailors throw towlines to the docks. The city of Solitude hovers above the shoreline on a massive outcropping of stone. Towers, fortresses, and more stand tall behind the city’s walls and hundreds of braziers light the stone walls like starlight. Solitude balances on a great arch shaped stone outcropping—big enough for a boat to pass through. The boat heaves and tips as it is pulled close to the dock. Rayla, her fingers tingling with excitement and a burst of energy roiling from her stomach to her heart, watches the gangplank as it slams down and the way off the ship is made.

Disembarking the sea-tested wood, Rayla takes her first step into Skyrim, snuggled deep into the wool traveling cloak from her mother as a chilly wind brushes her cheek and picks at her hair. Wearing just her backpack, the cloak, and light leather pants and a vest over a long-sleeved shirt, Rayla’s ebony dagger is tucked onto the back of her belt and her boots are well worn, a pair she has worn since last Sun’s Height.

A rush of people disembark the ship and Rayla finds herself moving down the docks and onto a well-tread path up to the city of Solitude. The nighttime air is brisk with a sharp smell of snow in the air. The forest and swamplands south of the city are silent in the darkness and the path up to Solitude is dark as the mottled cobblestones wander uphill away from the shore past a farm and mill, a tower, and to a stone archway where a soldier stands guard.

Stepping through the archway with only a nod from the guard, Rayla is suddenly surrounded by stone walls as the entrance gives way to grand doors into the city of Solitude. Red and black flags hang from the walls and the great oak doors open before her.

Solitude is just as Aunt Katria described in her letters. The sprawling stone walls are full of buildings such as the Bard’s College, and the towering Blue Palace where the High King of Skyrim is. Making her way through the streets, Rayla asks a few passersby for directions and finds her father’s trading partner, Kjelt Ahrol.

Kjelt and his family welcome Rayla as a guard might point a prisoner to their cell. Kjelt is a stern man with an eye for money. Their home is simple with a warm hearth and shelves cluttered with fancy trinkets, and plenty of books and maps. Kjelt quickly exchanges Rayla’s letter of credit for some gold and a Trade Wit to use in the cities of Skyrim.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Rayla says. Kjelt’s wife looks down her nose at Rayla as her husband stows away his remaining coins.

“There are many inns in Solitude,” Kjelt answers. They look ready for her to go. Rayla hurries back outside, away from their serious attitudes and returns to the chilly nighttime street. Maybe she visited too late; was she keeping them up?

Rayla walks up the main road of Solitude, reading signs that hang above each establishment. She checks into one inn, but they are full. The general store is closed for the night, and she wanders until she loops back to the main entrance—clearly taking a wrong turn somewhere. If she is supposed to go and find her aunt, she thinks she would be able to figure something out as simple as lodging, right? How can she face any of the challenges of her journey if she can’t do this one thing? Before she can figure it out, a tall figure crosses her path, and she almost runs into them.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Rayla says.

The figure turns around and it is a tall and lithe feline Khajiit. Rayla flinches and takes a step back, but the Khajiit only bows his head.

His amber eyes look up as Rayla thinks of what to say. She’s never seen a Khajiit before. She’s only ever heard rumors…Do they really eat raw meat?

The Khajiit wears loose hand-woven robes and has a hood over his ears. He looks to the doors he was just about to exit out of, back to the paths outside of Solitude.

“This one humbly apologizes,” he says, “but you look a little lost. Do you have lodgings for the night?”

“I…I just arrived in Solitude. I am hoping to travel south of here, but I—” Should she tell this stranger where she is going? Is that a good idea? Rayla stops talking and looks at her feet.

“If you haven’t found somewhere to stay for the night, you are welcome to come to this one’s camp. The Khajiit are not allowed to stay within the city walls. Well, the Khajiit are permitted but would rather not face any trouble if someone decides they are a bother. The caravan will be leaving for Whiterun in five days. Perhaps this matches your direction?”

“On Loredas?”

“Yes.”

Rayla pauses and picks at the straps of her backpack. She is tired of walking around in the cold and it is very late. This Khajiit seems to be the first genuinely helpful person she has met in Solitude. Not that anyone was unkind—but can she trust him?

“What is your name?” Rayla asks.

“This one is called Ma’dran.”

Rayla extends her hand. “Well, nice to meet you Ma’dran. I would be grateful to stay with your caravan and join your travels. I appreciate the support.”

Ma’dran looks down at Rayla’s hand. He extends his paw, more human-like than Rayla expected, and shakes her hand gently.

“Welcome, Rayla.”

*** 

Rayla sleeps in her sleeping bag by a glowing fire that night in the Khajiit caravan’s campsite. She returns to Solitude the next day to stock up on supplies and uses her new gold to purchase rations, salt, a leather fur-lined tunic, and fur gloves. She also purchases some ink to use for writing in her travel journal.

Rayla’s time in Solitude slips away quickly as she explores the city and local areas for five days. When Loredas arrives, Rayla wakes up early and departs with the caravan for Whiterun.

Ma’dran travels with two guards and keeps all his wares and supplies in a horse-drawn cart with the guards walking alongside. Ma’dran’s guards are Ma’jhad and Ra’zhinda, both are Khajiit with whiskered jowls and triangular ears.

They are kind companions full of stories as they all cross the wild roads of Skyrim. The weather on their first day is beautiful with the sun high in the sky and birds singing in the trees. Three-tusked sea lions rest on the shoreline and giant crabs bury themselves into the many rivulets and streams feeding into the swamps as they leave Solitude behind. Hours pass and the land becomes rockier and harsher as pine trees spiral upwards and thick bracken and hardy bushes fill out the undergrowth.

On occasion, a stag or deer appears for a flicker of an instant out in the woods or rocky plains, but to Rayla’s disappointment, they run away far before she can see them clearly.

With 200 kilometers to go, the beauty of the first day never sways but the real challenge of walking so far each day puts a strain on Rayla. Water becomes a sacred resource—luckily plentiful with the crystalline creeks spilling down from the distant mountains. A tall white mountain range stands below Solitude’s seat in the province of Haffingar. The Khajiit go around these slopes on the western side to avoid the snow and peaks without breaking stride as if they are having a peaceful stroll through flat farmland. It makes Rayla miss her afternoon walks on her father’s vineyard and farm. Her head spins as she sweats and tries to keep pace. A few days into their journey, her feet feel like they are going to fall off and she wonders how much farther she can really go. How did Aunt Katria handle all this? What will it be like when she finds Aunt Katria and has to walk all the way back?

Eventually, Rayla gets used to the rhythm of their journey and the nights under the stars trading stories and tall tales. After the freezing snow passages around the mountains, a few more days pass until after their tenth day on the road, the worn cobblestone paths open to a large valley beneath the mountains and the walled city of Whiterun appears.

Chapter Three

The capital city of Whiterun Hold sits in the heart of Skyrim amongst rolling plains and hills tucked within the cusp of the land’s mountainous heights. Simple wooden and stone palisade walls protect the Nord people from intruders and provide great views of the surrounding lands.

Toward the end of the day, Rayla finds herself inside the Bannered Mare where she collapses onto a bench by the fire. The pub is an old building full of exposed timber columns around the room and a fire pit in the middle. To her right is a bar and all along the room tables and chairs crowd the walls underneath shields, and other weapons on display.

Ma’dran and his caravan set up camp near Whiterun Farm and Rayla entered the city by herself. The warmth of the fire purges all her thoughts and makes her body feel like goo as her legs try to understand why they are not walking anymore.

“This feels so good,” Rayla murmurs. She drops her pack on the ground and rolls her shoulders.

“Welcome to the Bannered Mare, let me know if you need anything,” the barkeep calls to Rayla.

“Thank you!” Rayla responds.

Rayla settles in and leans forward, holding her hands towards the fire as the soft plucking of a lute strikes up from a corner. The soft notes, whispered into the air, mixed with the warmth lull Rayla into a place of peace. Her eyes grow heavy.

*** 

Rayla spends her first night at the Bannered Mare and sleeps in the next morning. Later in the day, she sets out through the cobblestone streets between the wooden buildings with low, swooping yellow-tiled roofs. Rayla heads to the eastern side of the city where the Companions guild is located. Her father told her she might find help here. The Companions guild is housed in Jorrvaskr, a building with a roof shaped like the keel of a large boat. A woman stands outside with short hair and a swirling face tattoo on her right cheek.

“Hello stranger, you must be Yann’s daughter?”

Rayla drags her feet to a stop.

“How do you know?”

“I can tell you have traveled far. I was told to expect you and you sure look tired.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry, I like to keep an eye on things around here. My name is Ria, your father knows my father. I was told you are on a big adventure? Come inside, I want to hear about it!”

Cheerful, Ria motions for Rayla to follow her and they step into Jorrvaskr. Inside, the building opens up to a large wooden room where Companions are training, and some are sitting around sharing drinks. Ria waves to a few and sits down at a table, ushering Rayla to join her.

“So, tell me, what brings you to Whiterun?”

Rayla sits down and looks at Ria who is leaning on the table with attentively wide eyes.

“Um, I took a boat from Summerset Isles and arrived in Solitude to begin my journey.”

“Have you been to Skyrim before?”

“Never. This is the farthest I’ve ever been from home, and everything is so…different. I traveled with a Khajiit’s caravan to reach Whiterun safely and the wilds are so… wild! I don’t think I could have made it on my own. There are so many unknowns on these roads. Bandits? Wolves? No one bothered us on our trek here, but I need to set out for Dushnikh Yal in a few days, but I’m not too sure where to go next. My maps show all the roads I need to know but I don’t know what the best route is, yet. So far west looks like the fastest way.”

Ria sits back, fiddling with a leather brace on her arm. She bites her lip in thought as Rayla talks.

“Why are you going to Dushnikh Yal? That is a tough territory. I wouldn’t really recommend it as a vacation spot, if you are sightseeing. Also, there have been dragon sightings at Fort Greymoor, west of here, so you can’t go that way. I recommend a more southernly route.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. And that’s the perfect example of what I don’t know about these lands.”

“Why, though?”

Rayla fishes Aunt Katria’s note out of her pocket and opens it to show Ria. She doesn’t hand it over and Ria doesn’t ask for it. She leans close to read it instead.

“My aunt has traveled Skyrim for many months—years even—and she always sent me letters. That was, until her last letter was sent to me from Dushnikh Yal as she researched the Dwemer Ruins in Arkngthamz. It’s been almost a year since I have heard from her last and I’m worried something bad happened. Of course, my aunt is so talented at traveling, I’m sure she’s fine, but she might need help. That’s why I’m here, to follow her footsteps and aide in her quest.”

Ria sits back and crosses her arms in thought. “Rayla, you are telling me that you came all the way to Skyrim to help your aunt? When you have no experience traveling yourself?”

“Yeah, I did. I know it’s crazy—”

“No,” Ria holds up her hand, “it’s brave. You are making me excited for you but at the same time—may I ask you something? I know we’ve just met but I feel if I let you walk back out of this door by yourself, I may never see you again.”

Rayla laughs, despite her heart skipping a beat in icy dread. Aunt Katria would know what to do. How can she find her with nothing but an old letter? “Knowing my luck, you’ll see me plenty as I can’t seem to keep my directions right. You should have seen me spinning in circles when I first arrived in Solitude.”

“Hey, that can happen in any new place. But I do think you’re right. By yourself, you might just become dragon meat.”

“Hey!” Rayla bubbles into laughter. “Way to be specific. I really don’t want to think about that!”

Ria laughs. “Well, if you don’t want that to happen, what if I come along with you? I happen to be a quality tour guide of these parts and the outer reaches of Skyrim. Maybe I can teach you a thing or two along the way, so you get to your aunt, ready to assist with her journey?” 

Rayla smiles. A guide? Ria has a set of daggers on her belt and wears light leather armor. Her muscular arms are visible between her bracers and fur-lined shoulder pads and her jaw has a sharp edge to it—all creating the image of a capable warrior.

“Don’t you have to work within your guild?”

“Companions get to work for themselves, where we see fit. What do you think? Do you need my services?”

“You know, I think that might be a great idea, Ria. I’ll hire your services all the way to Dushnikh Yal and to Arkngthamz,” Rayla says. She feels light-headed with sudden relief. Her journey ahead of her all of a sudden seems more solid—more possible. With someone who knows where they will be going and how to handle the dangers ahead, maybe Rayla can make this trip a success. Maybe it can be even a little more than just a struggle to survive as her walk to Whiterun felt. Maybe it can be fun with a companion to share the adventure with. She is sure Aunt Katria would love to meet Ria as well, especially after spending so much time together. She can imagine her pleasure at receiving them both at the long end of the journey.

“To Arkngthamz,” Ria says. She reaches out a calloused hand to Rayla to confirm. Rayla grasps her hand and shakes it firmly with a smile.

“To Arkngthamz.”

Ria breaks into a big smile. “Fantastic! I can’t wait. How about, I’ll show you around Whiterun if you haven’t explored yet? I’m sure you need supplies, and we’ll have to plan out our route. But, before all that work, I say we go get a drink if you’re buying?” Ria stands and pulls Rayla up with her. She elbows her playfully in jest as Rayla feels herself steered toward the door back onto the streets of Whiterun.

“You don’t even have to ask—let’s go!”

***

Ria and Rayla head out into the sunny day for a walk to Honningbrew Meadery. Situated just southeast of Whiterun’s walls, the meadery is composed of two buildings in similar structure to the rest of Whiterun.

“Welcome to the best place for a drink in all of Skyrim,” Ria says as she pushes open the front doors. The double doors swing inward to reveal a large front room. A long bar stretches along the length of the room with two stout windows between two wooden bookcases, full of drinks and glasses, sitting behind the bar. The walls are whitewashed and wide girths of timber line the walls and planks lattice the ceiling. Wooden stools sit before the bar and multiple bottles, sweetmeats, and two iced pastries sit on the counter. A balding man behind the bar with gray hair on the sides of his head waves to the girls as they enter.

“Welcome, I’m the owner and proprietor of Honningbrew Meadery,” he says.

“Sabjorn, we’ll need your finest brew. We need a drink to send us off on our coming adventure,” Ria says. She plops down on a seat and Rayla follows. The worn wood of the bar is smooth from years of passing glasses back and forth. Sabjorn sets down two goblets and opens an amber-colored bottle.

He pours the golden mead into the goblets, the liquid catching and shimmering in the faint sunlight filtering through the windows.

Ria raises one in a toast. “To our adventure.”

Rayla picks up her goblet, the honeyed smell of the brew tickling her nose. It smells like the wildflowers back on her farm on a summer day. When the bumblebees laze about, the sun is high in the sky, and the grapes begin to bud on the vines.

“To our adventure!” Ria knocks back her drink. Rayla takes a sip of the mead and the alcohol fills her mouth with a velvety smoothness. The alcohol bites but goes down easy, filling her belly with warmth and soothing her throat with the gentle touch of honey.

“Oh, wow,” Rayla murmurs. She takes another sip.

“Do you like it?” Ria asks.

“Oh yes. This is amazing.” Rayla sets down her goblet and in an instant, it is refilled for another round. They go through a few cups, Rayla far outpacing her companion as her cheeks begin to glow red and her eyes water with giggles. The coming pressure and size of her journey to find Aunt Katria floats to the back of her mind as she focuses on the simple room around her and Ria. As the mead goes down, Rayla’s troubles seem farther and farther away. Sabjorn leaves out a few bottles and goes to check on his inventory, leaving the girls to enjoy their moment alone.

“I’ve never had mead before—or any alcohol that actually tastes good like this. Are there other meaderies in Skyrim?” Rayla asks. “I can get used to this.”

“Shush!” Ria hisses with a laugh. She leans in close to Rayla’s ear. “You cannot mention other meaderies here. There is a great rivalry between the two.”

“Who?”

“The Black Briar’s Meadery. Never mention it here.”

“Okay, well, should we buy some mead to bring on our trip? I want some.”

“We’ll need to bring more important supplies on our trip,” Ria answers. She takes a small sip, keeping herself cool, as Rayla goes nose-first into another cup. “I know a blacksmith in Riverrun where we can get you some armor and weapons. We’ll need—”

“I’ve always wanted to travel!” Rayla exclaims. “I mean, I’ve obviously already traveled a little. And my family’s farm where I come from was beautiful to explore as a child—but I can’t wait to travel with you. This will be so much fun. And just wait until you meet Aunt Katria. You will think she is the coolest person you’ve ever met…” Rayla’s voice trails off as her flitting focus shifts and she stares at the swirl of Ria’s cheek tattoo.

“What’re you looking at?” Ria asks. Rayla points to the tattoo.

“Oh, this?” Ria says. Rayla nods, scooting to the edge of her seat.

“Why did you like it? It looks ferocious—it really drives home that you are a warrior,” Rayla says in wonder.

Ria looks somber as she touches the tattoo. “While I am a warrior, I still have a long way to go. Did you know I’m the youngest Companion? I have much to learn.”

“I think you are already doing well. Did you get the tattoo when you joined the Companions?”

“Not really. It was after my first job as a Companion. I was hired to escort a man when we were attacked by a Forsworn woman. She had a tattoo just like this one and she was the first person I’ve ever killed. I got this tattoo as a reminder afterward,” Ria answers.

Rayla purses her lips and sits back on her stool, suddenly sober. “Wow, that’s… a lot.”

Ria laughs. “Yeah, it is. But I try my best because of it. Just how I’ll do my best on your adventure.”

Rayla nods and taps the edge of her goblet to Ria’s. “Yes, to our adventure.”

After a few more cups, the night bears down and Rayla is abuzz with the warmth of the mead. A few hours pass as the girls trade stories and enjoy each other’s company. Rayla, at one point, begins to chatter until she tires herself out, enjoying the moment and finally reaching her limit of drinks. She barely registers when Ria helps her find her coins to pay for the drinks and then walks her outside into the evening with her arm under her shoulders, helping her to walk.

Rayla’s feet twist and she trips as she hiccups and giggles on the way back to Whiterun with Ria’s help.

Chapter Four

Rayla and Ria’s journey begins without a hitch. Up early the next day, they meet at the Whiterun gates. Rayla suffers a hangover, but the cold morning air soothes her headache as Ria leads the way out of Whiterun and into the surrounding valley. They walk southeast past the Honningbrew Meadery and take a sharp turn up into the mountains toward Riverwood. The walk follows the shallow White River and twists up the forested mountainside as the sun climbs high into the sky and the mountains are in a swath of mist. As the mist evaporates and midday grows late, the rocky fern-lined path dips back down to the river and the small village of Riverwood comes into sight.

Cobblestone walls flank the entrance where a drying rack of salmon and a small campfire sit by the river’s edge. A large stone wall borders the village with an open gateless entrance and a wooden structure built upon the wall for sentries to survey the surrounding woods. Crossing a wood bridge, Rayla’s aching feet are forgotten as she steps into Riverwood and smiles at the simple timber buildings with thatched roofs. Fences made of woven sticks block off small plots of vegetables and chickens roam free.

Ria leads Rayla to one of the timbered buildings and opens the door for her.

“The Riverwood Trader. We can stay here for the night.” She turns and sticks her head through the doorway, breaking into a big smile. “Hey—Camilla! Guess what the cat dragged in?!”

Rayla stumbles in with Ria into a simple one-room building. It is long with a counter and table alongside a stone fireplace. Stairs on the left back wall go up to a second floor and a woman in a yellow dress and light hair comes out from behind the counter.

“Mara bless you,” Camilla says. “What brings you all the way out here, Ria?” Ria puts her arm around Rayla and presents her.

“This is Rayla. I’m escorting her to Dushnikh Yal—”

“Well, why are you here then? You should have gone west, not down into this side of the mountains. Unless you missed me that much, of course.”

“Dragons at Fort Greymoor,” Ria counters.

Camilla rolls her eyes. “Of course. Those beasts should have stayed as only legends. What a nuisance.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rayla manages.

Camilla steps forward and shakes Rayla’s hand then pulls Ria in for a hug. “You too. Did you walk here from Whiterun? Take a seat by the fire. Do you need a bed for the night?”

“Yes please,” Ria says. On hearing they are staying here, Rayla wiggles the straps of her pack off her shoulders and lets it drop to the ground with a thud. The relief is immense but her shoulders and back, doubtlessly pock marked with bruises from the weight of her pack, cry to life now that the numbing weight is gone. Rayla stumbles over to the fire and takes a seat.

Camilla gets them some water and catches up with Ria. The warmth of the fire brings life back into Rayla and soon, Ria suggests they go over to the Sleeping Giant Inn for a drink. Camilla stays behind to ready a room for them. The Sleeping Giant Inn is bustling with locals as Ria leads the way and finds them a seat at the bar. There is a roaring fire and a bard singing “Ragnar the Red” nearby.

Orgnor, a large man with dark hair is the bar keep. He sets down a bottle of Alto wine, cooked salmon, and a slice of Eidar cheese. The antlered skull of a buck stares at Rayla, from its place on the countertop, as she nibbles on the cheese and sips some wine. A bundle of garlic cloves hangs above the bar alongside a string of pheasants and a hare. A woman in a blue tunic-dress, and leather corset comes over to refill their drinks. She has piercing blue eyes and her light hair is tied back. She eyes Ria before turning to smile at Rayla.

“Welcome to the Sleeping Giant Inn. I am the owner, Delphine. Is Orgnor treating you girls alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rayla answers.

“And you? What brings you here?” Delphine asks Ria directly.

Ria sets down her glass and regards the woman for a moment, almost as if sizing her and her intentions up. “I’m escorting my charge on a mission. We are stopping in Riverwood for a brief recharge and some supplies.”

“Good. Will you be needing a room? I have one available for ten gold a night.”

“We’ll be staying at the trading post; I know the owner.”

“Very good. Well, if you need a warm meal, we’ll take care of you here,” Delphine answers. She backs off but keeps an eye on the duo.

Rayla takes a sip of her wine, watching the woman. “How long are we planning to stay in Riverwood?” she asks above the conversations, fire, and music around them. The smoky haze of the fire is making her sleepy after a long day.

“Just two nights—” Ria turns her attention down the bar and hails a man as he walks into the inn. “Alvor! Get over here, you big lug!”

Alvor, a tall man with massive hands and a smoke-stained face, comes over to clap Ria on the shoulder with a smile.

“Good to see you, Ria. What brings you to town?” He takes a seat at the bar and picks up a goblet. Ria turns to Rayla.

“Rayla, meet Alvor. He is one of the best blacksmiths I know. He’s going to get you set up with your leather armor and weapons.”

“You lookin’ for a new blade?” Alvor asks.

“Something to get us to Dushnikh Yal,” Rayla answers. She’s never wielded a sword before. “But I do have a dagger.” Rayla touches the intricate ebony handle sticking out of her belt.

“I think I have just the perfect thing. Stop by tomorrow and I’ll get you all sorted out.”

Chapter Five

After two nights in Riverwood, Rayla and Ria meet up with the blacksmith to pick up Rayla’s new armor that she was fitted for the previous day. As they get ready to go back on the road, Alvor pulls a small, finely decorated sheathe from his work bench.

“I finished this for you this morning. I thought this would suit you best. When it comes to it, a good, easy to access sheathe, can help you get out of a tight spot,” he says. Rayla grasps the fresh leather, rubbing the pads of her fingers over its smooth surface. It is pliable and it accepts the blade from her mother perfectly.

“This is wonderful. Thank you,” Rayla says in awe. She puts the dagger on her belt and now wearing her new armor—leather bracers, a chest plate, pouches and pockets for an assortment of supplies, and more—she feels ready to go and brave the wilderness before them.

“You look brand new!” Ria exclaims.

They say goodbye and begin the next leg of their journey. Leaving Riverwood and heading west, they follow a long trail along the river. Underbrush and tall pines crowd their way as they push forward under dashing sunlight and cloudy skies. Rayla falls into an amiable rhythm beside Ria and the two chat and point out birdcalls, and the occasional flash of a red-furred fox.

In the morning they go by carved guardian stones and, in the hills, the long day passes. The river turns into flowing rapids and many small waterfalls as their path tilts up into rockier terrain.

“Welcome to Lake Ilinalta,” Ria says.

The land before them opens up to a massive lake tracing along the side of the mountains to the north. The water is placid and a great number of birds roost around the edges or wade in the shallows.

“Wow,” Rayla murmurs. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s going to take the rest of our day to walk around it. I think we’ll hit 20 kilometers before we reach Halfmoon Mill.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a mill alongside the lake. I’ve never stopped by, but we can see if we can get lodging for the night.”

“Sounds good!”

They continue to walk, and the day whittles away. As the moon makes an appearance and the sky turns a dusky purple, the creaking of the Halfmoon Mill’s water wheel is heard before it comes into sight. A long open shed stands alongside the water where a wheel turns, causing an endless splash and displacement of water. Across the stream that flows into the mill, a small cabin with a thatched roof sits with the windows dark.

At the mill, two lanterns cast dramatic shadows across the boards and a pile of timber. A woman stands in the lighting, her body swathed in shadow.

“Let’s go say hi,” Ria says. She walks up toward the mill and lifts her hand in a wave, but Rayla drags her feet, following a little behind. The woman is standing immobile, almost like a statue.

“Hello?” Ria asks. She walks up to the mill and waves again. The woman suddenly turns around and faces them in a jerkily rushed motion. Her face swivels to look at them and she takes two hurried but languid steps forward. Ria, now at the mill steps and with Rayla behind her, comes to a halt as the woman gets close. She has a stony smile and worst of all, her eyes are blood red. Red as a blood moon, red as a slaughtered animal’s blood. Rayla shivers and grips her belt, tucking her fingers underneath the leather to keep them from shaking.

“Why, hello. If you are looking for work, I think you should pick up an axe,” the woman says.

Ria, now a little tense as well, continues to smile. “Ah, thank you. But we were wondering if you had any lodging for the night? We are passing through and will be gone in the morning.” 

The woman’s smile widens, her lips press together and protrude as if they are sewn together. She hardly opens her mouth when she speaks.

“Yes, of course. I have a humble abode, but I am happy to share.” She turns to look out over the lake then goes up to the pile of wood and pulls on a lever, turning off the rush of the mill.

“What do you do here?” Ria asks. “Is this a sawmill?”

As Ria distracts her with her natural curiosity, Rayla tip toes away. Something feels weird. Something is off. At the back of the mill, just in sight, there is a tiny shed with some loose boards and an open door. Why would a woodworker have something in such disrepair? Curious, Rayla walks over and peeks her head in. In the darkness, the shed looks pitch black as the night around her steeps into darker velvety shades. Rayla blinks and squints her eyes to adjust to the darkness away from the lantern light. Even though she cannot see, a pungent smell hits her first. A deep, dark, rot fills Rayla’s nose and brings tears to her eyes. Her heart kicks up and urges her to step away as the room finally comes into view as little gray lines and shapes, and then it is all clear.

On the floor is a large, bleached troll skull. Above, hares and pheasants hang from the ceiling. It’s not too unusual. Maybe one of them went bad? Rayla steps farther inside, pinching her nose when she sees a large slab of venison on a table in the back next to a bloody pile of rags. Next to the rags, a human skull lays on its temple, still soaked in blood.

Rayla startles and jumps backward but she steps on something with a crunch. She looks down and the shattered pieces of a skeleton’s hand is beneath her boot. Stifling a shriek, Rayla backs out, bumping into a hanging hare, and rushes out of the shed.

Rayla hurries back to the mill where Ria is still talking to the woman.

“Ria?” Rayla calls, swallowing hard and trying to catch her breath and look normal.

“What?”

“We can’t stay here. Don’t you remember we were supposed to meet our friends at our next stop? They’ll come looking for us if we don’t meet them,” Rayla says.

Ria walks across the mill’s planks and down the stairs. Rayla flashes her an urgent look of fear before trying to cover herself up.

“Ah, I almost forgot.” Ria nods to Rayla silently with a stern understanding then turns back to the woman who is watching them with her arms crossed. “We should get going. Thank you for your hospitality, though!”

“My pleasure,” the woman says. She draws the word out with a disgruntled hiss, making Rayla shiver.

Rayla and Ria escape the Halfmoon Mill.

Chapter Six

The next day, after a night of camping outside, Rayla and Ria are back to walking along the Karth River. Rayla had spent most the night leaping up in fright every time she heard an owl or a wolf howl until the sky began to lighten at dawn. Ria slept like a log, but she looked restless as they walked, looking over her shoulder.

“I can’t believe I almost let us get lured in by a crazy woman,” Ria says. She looks out over the tumbling water as their path continues to pitch up and down within the mountain pass the river had carved out long ago. In the distance, a massive waterfall tumbles to the earth and several stone pillars protrude from its girth.

Halfway through the day, the mountain walls grow taller, pressing closer to their narrowing path as they advance. Rayla chances a look up but the towering peaks above make her head spin.

A wolf’s howl cuts through the silence. Rayla and Ria share an alarmed look but keep walking. Rayla trips over a scattering of shale and another howl lilts into the air from a not-so-far-distance. Too close for comfort. Ria draws her sword and pushes Rayla ahead of her, increasing their pace.

“We are almost to Fort Sungard. We’ll go there for shelter and our next resupply,” Ria says. They turn a corner and on top of a large peak is the stone castle and tower of Fort Sungard. The path continues to skirt the mountain, twisting, and rounding it as the fort disappears, and the walls to their right begin to open up, allowing grassy slopes to the mountain top. A wolf howls again, joined by a chorus. They are getting much closer.

“Get up the slope, we need to get to open land so they can’t corner us,” Ria says. She grasps Rayla by the belt and bodily pushes her up the hill. Rayla stumbles and scrambles up the hill as the first wolf rounds the corner with two more at its flank.

Ria hops up onto the slope, gaining some high ground and slashes her blade quickly at the first wolf, crouching low as the blade bites into its chin and drags down the length of the wolf’s body. The creature screams and drops to the ground. Rayla pulls out her dagger and stumbles, falling on her butt as she slips and loses her footing. In a blur, Ria whirls and lashes her blade at the approaching wolves, nicking one on the nose and causing them to jump back. Ria moves like she is one with her blade. Her movements are quick and lethal with a silent grace. A wolf goes to lunge, and she meets it before it can leave the ground. The third wolf lunges in retaliation as her blade is still buried in the other, but an arrow whistles through the air and buries itself fletch-deep into the wolf’s side.

Silence falls over the mountain pass as the last wolf falls and Ria looks up, a splattering of blood across her chest, arm, and cheek.

“Are you okay?!” Ria asks.

“Me? What about you?!” Rayla stammers.

Ria wipes her sword clean on her leg and sheathes it. They both turn to look up the mountain as a legion soldier with a bow and arrow appears from around a boulder. The soldier waves a leather-clad hand.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Thank you!” Ria says. She helps Rayla up then approaches to shake the soldier’s hand.

“I am Lieutenant Hedwig; I have been stationed here at Fort Sungard. I saw the wolves close in. I hope I wasn’t too late?”

Ria smiles bashfully. “You were just in time. Thank you.”

Rayla shakes herself as they follow Hedwig up the mountain slopes and to Fort Sungard. It looks like they’ll finally have a place to sleep, and she can’t wait after the previous night.

That night, after a dinner and tour of the fort, Rayla and Ria sit outside the fort around their own campfire, sprawled out on their sleeping bags.

“What a day,” Ria says.

“Yeah,” Rayla agrees. The way Ria had moved. It looked so strange, so natural. She really was a warrior, but she had never seen anyone fight like her. “You are so agile and talented. How did you learn to fight like that?”

Ria rolls over and props herself up on her elbow. The fire’s light casts a dramatic soberness across her face. “My dad. He was…a Blade. He taught me everything he knew but when I was fourteen, his luck caught up to him and the Thalamor killed him right in front of me.”

Rayla’s mouth drops open as she listens. She shuts it with a grimace. “That’s horrifying.”

Ria flops onto her back with a shrug. “Yeah. But I’ve trained as hard as I can ever since. I don’t want to see that happen to anyone ever again.”

Crickets chirp and an owl whistles in the distance. Rayla looks up at the plethora of scattered stars above.

“Can you train me? I felt useless when those wolves attacked. I couldn’t do anything to help you.”

“Of course. We’ll start tomorrow.”

Chapter Seven

Rayla and Ria spend the next day at Sungard Fort training and resting before continuing their journey. Rayla learns how to hold her dagger properly, thrust, block, and parry—if weakly. What experience she doesn’t have; she fills in with excitement and gritty determination from the wolf attack. Hedwig joined in on the training and leant her expertise to both girls. They take turns shooting Ria’s bows in the afternoon and practice until Ria is satisfied and lets Rayla carry one of her bows and some arrows for the next leg of their journey.

“Keep being there for each other, be smart, and stay safe,” Hedwig said, with worry, when they departed.

Setting out to continue walking after a long rest always feels rejuvenating if repetitive. Rayla counts her steps until her body begins to ache again but with calm breaths and focusing on the mist-covered scenery, she keeps on going in beautiful distraction.

Going back down the mountain to the path they were following, they reach a steep downward trail back to the valleys and plains that are home to Whiterun at a great easternly distance. A wooden trail sign points north to Solitude, east, to Whiterun, and more.

“If we keep following Karth River from this side, we’ll pass by the Old Hroldan Inn. There is a bridge there we can cross and continue on our way to Dushnikh Yal.”

“How far away are we?” Rayla asks. Ever since they left that morning, a pit has been growing in her stomach. She’s worried about Aunt Katria. The letter in her pocket weighs down on her like a stone, each inked word drilling its way into her heart. With what she has seen of Skyrim so far, the harsh reality of this land is daunting. The wolves are all they’ve luckily run into, but Ria has told Rayla about the bandits, skeevers, skeletons, and bone dogs they need to worry about on the trails. Even when they least expect it, something bad can happen. What were the chances they will make to Dushnikh Yal safely?

“About 40 kilometers, I think,” Ria answers.

Rayla groans inwardly. 40 kilometers of the unknown.

Out on the plains, a stone structure stands above the grasses with a flat floor. In the distance, a four-tusked mammoth roams, larger than six horses combined, and underneath a massive shaggy carpet of long fur. Rayla gawks at the beast as it lumbers along.

“Stay away from those, there are usually giants nearby and they are nasty to run into,” Ria advises.

“Yeah, I won’t mess with them,” Rayla says. She turns back to look down the trail as it returns to the Karth River when a massive shadow passes over them. Suddenly, Ria grabs Rayla’s arm and drags her to the ground, the stones and dirt digging into her hands.

“Watch out!” Ria urges. Above them, a giant spiked tail dangles out of the air, slashing the ground near them. Ria covers Rayla’s head as stone and debris flies, bouncing off her and grazing any exposed skin.

Ria leaps up and drops her pack, drawing her sword and shield. “Hide!” she yells.

Rayla gets up onto her knees as a monstrous creature soars back over them with an earth-quaking roar. A gray dragon twists into the air like a bird of prey, its leather wings are three-times the size of its own body and its long serpentine head, full of spikes, teeth, and heavy scales, rotates as it flies, zeroing in on its prey.

“Get to the trees, quick!” Ria orders. Rayla gets up and stumbles, running toward a boulder sitting on the tree line. She drags Ria’s pack behind her and hides just as a large gout of flame washes over the road. Rayla ducks and covers her head as the stone is blasted with fire. As soon as the heat stops, she peeks out to see Ria dodge as the dragon swoops by again, flapping its wings and pushing her down with heavy blasts of air.

“Ria! Get out of there!” Rayla screams.

“Put your hood up and stay down!” Rayla obeys, pulling her woolen hood up over her head. The dragon launches another burst of flame which Ria meets head on, holding her shield high. The fire surges past her harmlessly but it singes her bare shield arm, burning it with a layer of thick black ash. Ria holds her ground and wields her sword as the dragon swoops by again.

Rayla scrambles, pulling out her bow and arrows and notches an arrow. She pulls back, aims at the dragon’s scale-covered underside and fires. The arrow flies true but only bounces off the scales harmlessly. Rayla tries again, pulls back, aims for the wide papery wings, and the arrow flies, punching through the thin skin of the wings. The dragon screams and jumps higher into the air, out of reach.

Ria sheathes her own sword and fires a round of arrows as well as she retreats to the boulder with Rayla.

“We have to get out of here,” Ria says. “I can hold it off, but you need to run.” She is winded and her burned arm is already blistering.

“No way. I’m not leaving you.”

“This isn’t an argument! You don’t have a choice. You must go.”

“We can figure this out—”

“I’m not letting someone else die in front of me!” Ria snaps. She turns and looks Rayla straight in the eye. “I’ve fought monsters and beasts. My armor is lined with wool, it’ll protect me from the fire—like your cloak. You need to run as I buy us some time. I’ll follow you and we’ll meet up at the inn. Okay?”

Rayla frowns and has to fight back a sudden burning of tears in her eyes. She can’t let Ria sacrifice herself for her. Even if she makes it sound like she’ll be okay fighting a dragon—it’s a dragon! She won’t survive facing it face to face.

Rayla looks over to the riverbank to their left and the trees behind them. She peeks a glance out towards the rolling fields as a plan comes to her mind.

“I have an idea,” Rayla says.

“Rayla, no—”

“We’ve come so far. I’m not letting anything happen to you either. What will Aunt Katria say if I get there without you? I wouldn’t have made it this far without your help!”

“And you won’t make it any farther if you don’t listen—”

Rayla stands up and drops her pack in a rush. She tightens her cloak and carries her bow and a fistful of arrows. “I’ll be right back,” Rayla says. Adrenaline rushes, pushing a wave of sound through her ears, and filling her head with a ringing.

“No!” Ria goes to reach for her, but Rayla runs away from Ria and the direction of the inn down the tree line. Instantly, Ria jumps up and begins to shoot at and distract the dragon to keep its attention on her. As Rayla runs, thudding over the stone path and into the rocky grasslands, the dragon continues to roar and spit fire as Ria engages it.

Rayla runs over a hill and to the mammoth still lumbering in the distance. The creature is pulling up a tuft of grass with its trunk as the breeze stirs its matted coat. It flicks its tail and wiggles its ears with a snort. Rayla stumbles to a halt, ten meters away, and then draws her bow, notching an arrow. With luck—this crazy plan of hers will work. She draws the bow string back to her cheek, takes a deep breath, and fires. The arrow whizzes away, arching into the sky. Tip first, it plummets to the earth and strikes the mammoth in the shoulder. The creature’s trunk whips with a bellow as it rears up onto its hind legs in anger. Rayla, excited to have hit her target, starts to jump up and down, waving and yelling.

“Over here! Come and get me!” she yells. The mammoth turns towards her and begins to charge, thundering, and shaking the ground beneath Rayla’s feet.

“Oh goodness,” Rayla mutters with a gasp. She slings her bow over her shoulders and drops her remaining arrows. She turns and sprints back toward Ria, pumping her legs as fast as she can as the mammoth trumpets and gets closer in its pursuit.

The great dragon has since landed on the road and now faces Ria. Its body is bent up like a serpent ready to strike. Its tail cleaves the ground and its winged forearms claws scrabble on the stone. Ria is in front of the dragon with her shield held high. The dragon lunges to bite at her but she meets it with her sword then absorbs the impact with her shield, bouncing off the creature’s mighty maw.

“Ria!” Rayla screams. She sprints up to the creature’s massive, folded wings as the dragon shakes itself and breathes another burst of fire. Ria turns just as Rayla calls her name with a look of fear.

“Get away!” Ria shouts. The fire engulfs her, and she collapses to the ground as it scorches her face and body in a moment of distraction. Rayla screams and dives in, grabbing her friend and dragging her off the road, just as the dragon strikes again, getting a mouthful of stone.

Rayla tumbles into the grass with Ria just as a thunderous clash erupts behind them. She rolls to her knees and continues to pull Ria with her as the mammoth reaches the road, a quivering beast of fury, and bowls straight into the reeling dragon. The two monsters clash, the ground heaves, and the very sky seems like it is screaming as the two roar and fight.

Rayla drags Ria behind the boulder who collapses with a cough and drops her sword. Part of her face is red and numerous little scratches and bruises decorating her chin and arms. Her shield arm is burned, and it looks as if one of her armored forearms protected her eyes from the fire when she covered herself last minute.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” Rayla stammers. “Get your pack, I’ll help you, but we have to get out of here!”

“What did you do?” Ria whispers, coughing some more.

Rayla puts on her pack and helps Ria sheathe her sword and put on hers. She gets her to stand up and slings one of her arms over her shoulder. Rayla steels herself toward the woods with one more glance at the road as the mammoth gouges the dragon in the hip with its tusks and tosses it to the side of the road. The dragon roars and spits fire, filling the air with the smell of singed fur.

Rayla leads Ria down to the river where they hurry until they are safely away at a distance.

*** 

The air is pungent with smoke and distant roars as Rayla trips up the steps to an inn on the side of the road, overlooking the splitting paths over Karth River. Ria slumps against her, her face is pale and her breathing now labored as she closes her eyes. Rayla gently sets Ria down on the steps and runs up onto the porch of the simple thatched-roof cabin. She knocks on the door before pulling it open and rushing inside to a warm fire where a woman and boy sit on a wooden bench.

The woman is a Nord in an off-the-shoulder blouse, leather corset, apron, and skirt. The boy, maybe 8 years old, stands up defensively at Rayla’s intrusion.

“I’m sorry, is this an inn? My friend is hurt—we need somewhere to stay,” Rayla says, her voice tumbling in a rush. The warmth of the inn is suffocating after being outside in the cold for so long. Her throat is burning as her lungs try to catch up, her hands are shaking, and she struggles to keep her voice steady. "Please!"

The woman and the boy hurry outside without hesitation to Ria.

“Take her to Tiber Septim’s room,” the woman says. She helps Rayla pick Ria up and guides her to a room with a large bed and many furs on the floor and walls. Ria is put on the bed gently, but her fresh wounds are jostled. Shining red skin and blisters cover her shield arm up to her shoulder and the bottom half of her face. She groans. The woman turns to the boy. “Go fetch the alchemist up the path. We need him to bring some burn salves and potions.”

The boy runs out of the room as the woman begins to gather warm water and clothes. Rayla drops their packs on the floor and begins to unbuckle Ria’s armor from her body. Her hands just won’t stop shaking.

“What happened?”

“Dragon attack.”

Nothing else needs to be said. The woman begins to wipe down and clean Ria’s wounds. Time slips by slowly as Rayla kneels by her friend and holds her hand, hoping everything is going to be alright.

***

A little while later, the boy returns with the alchemist who applies a salve to Ria’s wounds and gives her a potion to drink. Miraculously, Ria wakes up soon after, groggy, but smiling.

“Hey, you’re still here,” Ria mumbles. Rayla leaps up and checks on her, tears pricking her eyes.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” Rayla exclaims. “Are you okay? You scared me!”

“She’ll be alright,” the owner of the inn answers. “That alchemist is a blessed man. You both are welcome to stay here for as many days as you need.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Rayla answers. She turns back to Ria. “No more taking dragons one-on-one, okay? We work together on facing these challenges from now on. Okay?”

Ria chuckles. “I guess I’ll have to let you—” she gasps, after moving her arm on accident. She cringes in pain. Her wounds are still fresh, but they don’t look as frightful as when she was unconscious. Seeing Ria awake and talking makes a world of a difference and eases at least some of Rayla’s concerns. “You are quite resourceful.”

Skuli pokes his head into the room with his mother at his heel.

“The alchemist says she needs lots of sleep. I prepared a room for you—washed the sheets myself yesterday—if you want to go rest,” Skuli says.

Rayla doesn’t budge from Ria’s side but Ria squeezes her hand gently, with her unburned hand.

“I think you should go get some rest. The kid’s right. I’ll be here,” Ria says.

Rayla nods and pats her hands. “Okay. Shout if you need me?”

“I’ll be sure to scream.”

“Sure, sure. Sleep well.”

Chapter Eight

Ria’s words of, “You were resourceful,” spin in Rayla’s mind. What is resourceful if her friend still gets hurt? Nearly burnt to a crisp? No matter what she did, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough to make a difference in the survival of their trip. How could she ever believe she could handle this trip and prove herself useful to Aunt Katria when she meets up with her?

On the third day at Old Hroldan Inn, Ria sits outside on the porch while Rayla continues to rest inside, sound asleep. The salves and potions had done some wonder but despite these miracle cures, Rayla was in a black mood. The dragon attack kept playing over in her head. She even wrote out what happened in her journey up until the attack in her A Traveling Guide to Skyrim. She struggled to write what happened the other day and puts down her quill and ink. She hardly wants to think about it as her skin tingles at the memories. She can still smell the smoke, burning hair, and flesh. It makes her feel sick.

***

After spending four days recovering at the Old Hroldan Inn, Rayla and Ria are back on the road once the alchemist’s cures restored Ria to her old—if sore—self.

“Not many can say they’ve walked into a dragon fight and have lived,” Ria says. They are walking up a steep mountain path. Rayla can’t stop looking at her, images of Ria lying injured in the inn’s bed have haunted her for the past few days. What if she hadn’t gotten better? Worse, what if the dragon had killed her? Rayla was barely aware of what she was doing back during that fight when the adrenaline pumped through her veins. Who thought her wooly mammoth idea would actually work? Ria had been entertained by that outcome once she was able to sit up and talk more while healing. It truly wasn’t every day that such a situation was survived. This once again begs the question, is Aunt Katria really alright? Will they find her? How can anyone survive the harsh wilderness of Skyrim?

Rayla swallows her concerns with a shiver. She needs to focus on putting one foot in front of the other for the time being if this journey is going to continue at all.

“Yeah,” Rayla responds, “let’s just not do that again. I’ve seen enough action to last me a lifetime.”

“Truly,” Ria agrees with a laugh.

“But, I don’t think I was much help. I distracted you and made you get hurt. I feel like you would have been better if I wasn’t there. You would be better if you never met me,” Rayla says.

Ria stops walking and looks at her companion. “What? Rayla, what are you saying?”

“I don’t think I was, ‘resourceful.’ I’m a burden.”

Ria put a hand on Rayla’s shoulder as she opens her mouth and closes it in thought. She hums and then twists her lips into a smile and tightens her grip. “Rayla, none of that is true. You were a big help. When I said you were resourceful, I meant it. You found a way to defeat a dragon—a dragon that would surely kill both of us. You were not in the way—you were a help.”

“But you got hurt.”

“I may have gotten hurt, but what you did was amazing. You saved my life.”

Ria looks at Rayla with open confidence and thanks. Her smile isn’t forced, she isn’t pretending to make her feel better. Something in Rayla melts and she takes a deep breath of the mountain air, suddenly aware of the sunshine, the not-too-cold-breeze and the birds singing.

“Are you okay?” Ria asks.

Rayla sighs and nods her head. “Yes. Thank you.”

They continue on. Rayla feels lighter as the hours pass by and the landscape slowly shifts around them. The path they are hiking on becomes steeper and weaves up between snowcapped mountains. While the ground beneath their feet is ice free, the air is cold. Golden-furred mountain goats peer at the girls from their cliff-top perches and small rock warbler nests with bespeckled eggs appear every so often in crevices or between boulders.

“Ah, here we are!” Ria exclaims. They round a corner and come to a flat area where an old-fashioned fort of sharpened tree trunks rises above a field.

“Whoa,” Rayla murmurs. The fort looks small with the backdrop of gray and blue mountains rising behind it, but as they walk closer through the blooming mountain flowers, the structure towers over them. A rounded gate is open, allowing entrance into the half-dug in fort.

“Halt, only orcs may enter Dushnikh Yal. Your kind is not welcome here,” a deep voice says. A tall orc with dark skin and a protruding lower jaw with large sharp teeth walks in front of the fort’s entrance. Rayla stops where she is but does not turn back. Ria fingers the hilt of her blade.

“We are not here to cause trouble,” Rayla answers. “I’m looking for my Aunt Katria. She stayed here at Dushnikh Yal before continuing her journey to Arkngthamz. She’s gone missing and I hope I can speak to who saw her last?”

The orc crosses his arms, his large biceps bulging. From behind him, a female orc in a two-piece leather and animal-skin outfit appears. The head of a bear and its fur have been fashioned into a hood and drapes over her shoulders. She has thick hair and a toothy jutting jaw. Her eyes are a haunting milky-white color.

“I know Katria,” the female orc says. “I am Murbul, an Orsimer destruction mage and wise woman. Katria met with me before ascending to Arkngthamz.” Murbul, much older than the orc beside her, gives him a stern—but not unkind—look. “Chief Burguk, allow these travelers in. I will let them stay with me before they continue their travels. It is a hard hike to the ruins.”

Chief Burguk nods. “Very well. I expect to see your departure in the morning.”

Rayla lets out a shaky breath and nods with gratitude. “Thank you for your help.” Ria bumps her shoulder with a smile, and they enter the fort behind Murbul.

The fort is a dug-in compound at the base of a mountain. Murbul leads Rayla and Ria to a small open shack propped up against the fort’s wall. Shelves of ingredients and hanging plants fill the space.

“Katria is a talented adventurer. Has she not returned from Arkngthamz?” Murbul asks.

Rayla drops her pack and enters the little lean-to. “No. I’m her niece. I’ve traveled from Summerset Isles after I stopped receiving any letters from Aunt Katria. I’ve come to find and help her.”

Murbul frowns, her teeth sticking out her lip in a grimace. “That is not good. There are earthquakes up in the mountain above Arkngthamz. Katria believed she could find a historic forge there, but those tremors have only gotten worse. She stopped coming down long ago. I assumed she had left the area.”   

Rayla swallows around a growing lump in her throat. So much time has passed since she heard anything from her aunt. They are so close.

“Can you lead us there or show us the way?” Ria asks. Her brow has crumpled over her concerned eyes. Aunt Katria’s situation is looking worse.

“Katria often stopped here to trade for supplies and food. She told wonderful stories about her findings,” Murbul muses. She looks lost in memory for a moment.

“Do you think you can show us the way?” Ria asks, pushing the topic lightly. Murbul turns toward her and taps her chin. She steps out of the lean-to and looks at the mountain peaks above.

“I can point you in the right direction. I do not want to go anywhere near that area. But I can tell you what she told me.”

Rayla floods with relief. Every minute feels more important as each moment goes by. They are so close to finding Katria, she can’t let anything else slow her down now.

Chapter Nine

            Rayla and Ria spent the night at Dushnikh Yal with Murbul and the orc tribe. Despite being “outsiders,” they were warmly treated and enjoyed a heavy meal around a warm fire. Throughout the night, Murbul shared some of Katria’s stories about the decorated halls and intricate designs of Arkngthamz. Katria had been trying to find the location of the Ethereum forge, a forge she had been seeking and needed to find to prove her research about the area.

Early the next morning, Murbul points Rayla and Ria on their way and gives them instructions to reach Arkngthamz. The mountain paths jump upwards and crumble into rocky cliffsides. Ria takes the lead, talking over her shoulder as they climb over boulders and step over loose scree.

“So, tell me. Why is your aunt really here? I understand she is doing research, but this sounds like a life-long passion. Murbul made it sound like she was here for a long time.”

“Have you ever heard of the book, The Aethereum Wars?”

“I don’t think so?”

“It’s a work by Taron Dreth who used to follow my aunt’s work. What he published is actually her findings that he stole. Aunt Katria came here to find the forge that her theories prove to exist. If she can find it, she can prove the research is hers, complete her research, and show the world what a scoundrel he is.”

“Yuck.”

“But more importantly, finding this forge will teach us so much about these lost societies and their technologies. And their culture! The information would be amazing.”

“That sounds like a good enough reason for me.”

“What do you think—”

Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet trembles, and the loose rocks and pebbles shake across the path and a tremor echoes up from the ground with a growling eruption.

“Wah!” Rayla yelps and grabs onto Ria’s arm, steadying herself. They cling to each other for a moment until the tremors stop.

Rayla takes a breath and looks up toward the mountain. “I guess we are getting close?”

Ria and Rayla continue up cautiously to the top of the mountain where the peak crests and stone steps lead up to a massive carved entrance and patio sticking out of the mountainside. Giant doors stand above the mountainside, a daunting entrance to their quest.

“Is that it? Is this Arkngthamz?!” Rayla exclaims. “Are we here?!” She bounds up the steps but then another tremble shakes the mountainside, and she drops to her knees.

“Rayla, be careful!” Ria shouts. She follows her up the steps and they help each other to the doors. They come to a stop before them, and Rayla touches the door carefully.

Is she ready to step inside? To finally find her aunt? Her heart flutters and simultaneously drops with dread. It’s a mix of excitement and urgent anxiety at finally reaching her goal. Would Aunt Katria be excited to see her? Has she found the forge?

It’s been years. Would she recognize Rayla? She hasn’t seen her since she was a child.

Rayla stands with her hand frozen on the door. Ria puts her hand over hers and pushes against the back of her hand, gently putting pressure on the door, and with an effort, they open the doors to Arkngthamz.

The entrance to Arkngthamz is worn away with time. An interior tunnel is exposed, stretching and weaving between large carved pillars holding up the buckling ceilings. Rayla and Ria share an apprehensive look and continue into the first main chamber where there is a large fracture with the floor cracked and separated at two different heights. One part of the floor is several meters higher than where Rayla and Ria stand and the sound of water can be heard as a stream rushes somewhere between and within the depths of the fractured cave floors, a water crashing in between.

A single pillar holds up the crumbling ceiling. Past this pillar, rough-hewn rock that recently crumbled leans over the room threateningly. Upon entering, Rayla almost kneels in reaction to the uneven surfaces, on guard as if the ceiling can collapse at any moment.

“Oh no,” Ria murmurs. She steps over a crack in the floor and looks around the cave-like room. “This can be really bad if a tremor happens while we’re in here. Maybe your aunt isn’t here because of the tremors?”

“She would have told me if she relocated,” Rayla responds.

The water crashes in the distance but a new sound approaches: a groaning clatter. Ria pulls out her sword and shield, and Rayla pulls out her bow and notches an arrow as the back of her neck prickles.

“I think we have some company,” Ria says.

From the splits in the floor, Falmer—as Murbul warned there would be—appear from the darkness, dripping wet and waving swords. The Falmer are gray-skinned elves with emaciated bodies, long ears, blank eyes, and bared teeth. Six appear and begin to close in on Rayla and Ria.

“I’ll take the ones up front,” Ria says. “Do you think you can cover me with the bow?” She swings her sword and parries with the first approaching Falmer.

“Yes, I’ll try,” Rayla says with a groan. She pulls the bowstring to her cheek and aims at a Falmer approaching Ria from the left. She lets the arrow fly, and it rushes off into the darkness, clattering against the stone in the distance.

Ria ducks and swipes, taking a Falmer out at the knees and plunging her sword into its chest. She whirls and strikes, dancing between the enemies’ blades as Rayla draws another arrow. She aims a little lower this time and points her arrow at the belt of a Falmer. She releases the arrow and there is a satisfying thunk as it buries itself headfirst into a Falmer’s chest. Rayla cheers as Ria’s sword swings and decapitates the Falmer her arrow stopped.

“Great! Keep it up!” Ria calls. A sword clashes against hers, sparking, as another engages with Ria and the remaining Falmer breaks through and rushes Rayla with its sword raised. Rayla startles and drops her bow with a clatter. She grabs her mother’s dagger and thrusts the ebony blade into the air before her as the Falmer lunges with the sword whistling through the air. Rayla pulls up her arm to meet the blade midair with her dagger and then lifts her foot and kicks the Falmer in the chest, knocking it back. The Falmer stumbles but before it can come back up, Rayla rushes it and pulls her arm back with the dagger in her hand, zoning in on the creature. The ebony handle presses into her fingers, burning against her knuckles as she holds the power of the weapon in her hand. She remembers finding it in her bag after leaving her family, while on her way to Solitude. How her mother was against her trip because it was dangerous, but she gave her the tools she needed to see this mission through to the end. Rayla plunges the dagger down and severs the Falmer’s spinal cord at the neck. The Falmer falls in a heap, immobile and instantly dead, blood splattering Rayla’s arm and her boots.

“Are you okay?!” Ria runs over to Rayla and looks at the Falmer at her feet. “You did good—it’s alright. But are you hurt?”

Rayla looks at the dagger and slowly goes to put it back into the sheathe, still blood covered. Ria grimaces and grabs the blade and wipes it clean before handing it back over.

The cave trembles and another earthquake shakes through the floor and the walls crackle. Ria ducks and pulls up her shield and Rayla drops to her knees, covering her head. Rocks and debris fall from the ceiling and the bodies on the floor shake with the vibrations. 

“Okay, we need to look for your aunt fast, and get out of here,” Ria says. She grabs Rayla’s hand once the tremors stop. “Are you ready to go on?”

“Y-yes. Let’s go.”

Rayla stands up and moves forward toward the fissure in the flooring. She carefully steps over the bodies of the Falmer, trying not to look too closely at them and their seeping wounds. Rayla swallows and presses forward, bracing herself for any additional tremors. Little pebbles scatter away from her feet as she moves, and she steps around rocks and fallen pieces of the ceiling. At the fissure in the middle of the room, a great waterfall spills into the giant crack, and collapsed carved pillars that used to stand about the room have fallen into the crevice. They hint at the glory and wonders of these Dwemer Ruins, deep underground. No wonder Aunt Katria was drawn to this place.

“We’ll just go a little farther. We might see where she keeps camp, or maybe we can see if she left any clues to where she may have traveled next,” Rayla says. She walks up to the ledge over the crack in the middle of the room.

“That’s a good start. But I doubt she is spending her nights in this cave,” Ria responds.

“Maybe she found the Aethereum forge and it’s stable there?”

“Maybe?”

Maybe is good enough. After weeks of traveling and hundreds of kilometers walked, Rayla couldn’t wait to tell Aunt Katria all about it. She wanted—

Another tremor disrupts the cave and causes the floor to heave. Rayla slips and falls, hitting her chin on the floor, and grasps the edge of the fissure with a gasp. Ria rushes to her side as the cave settles but Rayla is unaware. Her eyes are locked on the bottom of the fissure, glued and unmoving as her heart feels like it shudders to a stop and her lungs stop pulling air. The whole world freezes and if the cave trembled again, she would not notice. Not now.

Lying at the bottom of the fissure, on a protrusion of rock, just above the running stream, is a body clad in a leather outfit, steel armor, boots, and hide bracers. The body’s head is tipped back with its mouth open in a deathly grin, hair streaming backward like old cobwebs. To call it a body is an overstatement—that would require it to be living and breathing, to have flesh warming its bones, but that is all that is there. A decimated body, reduced to bones with the passing of time.

Rayla lets out a strangled cry. It couldn’t be. Maybe it’s just another explorer. Maybe Aunt Katria had a team with her, and someone died in an accident. Rayla scrambles to her knees and slides down a column that has tipped into the fissure. She drops down onto the floor below and splashes through the icy water before dropping to the body’s side on the stone.

The skeleton is within a tight waxen casing of decomposed skin. The eye sockets are empty, and no hint of life exists in its form except for the clothes it wears and the pack at its side. Rayla moves without really hearing or feeling. It’s as if she is in a blinding wind tunnel as she reaches into the pack and pulls out its contents, her hands shaking violently. Ria runs down to join her but can do nothing to stop the numb searching.

A leather journal falls into Rayla’s lap and the pages open to the familiar scrawl she has read so many times. The journal is thick with folded letters and notes as well as descriptions of a lengthy expedition, research, and findings. It is unmistakable. This is why the letters stopped coming.

“S-she’s always been here,” Rayla stammers. “She’s been right here, this whole t-time!” Her voice breaks and the tears come. Her whole being collapses as she crumples to the ground and presses her head against the corpse.

“Why?!” Rayla sobs. She holds the journal to her chest and a high-pitched keening tears out of her mouth, echoing around the cave and plunging into the sound of the running water and a distant underground wind. She trembles and shakes and lets it all out until the very earth around her trembles again and another tremor abuses the cave around them. Rocks fall and splash into the water.

Ria undoes her pack and kneels next to Rayla. “Rayla, we need to leave. There is nothing you could have done.”

“I should have been here. Why would she be here alone?!”

“Rayla—you need to think. Help me get her out of here or we will not make it out of this cave alive. Are you listening?” Ria’s calm pleas cut into Rayla’s misery, giving her something to grab onto and think of in her spiral.

“Stay with me,” Ria says, almost like a mantra as she repeats herself. Ria takes her sleeping bag off her backpack and unfurls it. Carefully but quickly, she manages to move Aunt Katria’s body onto it and chases Rayla to the other end, wrapping her hands around the fabric. “Let’s take her home with us—you don’t want to leave her here. Right?”

Rayla shakes her head as tears run down her face. She sniffles and twists the blankets tight. “O-okay,” she responds. Her eyes burn with grim determination, and she sets herself to the joint task. Carefully, they move as one and maneuver the body up onto the fallen pillar and onto the main floor of the cave but Rayla grinds to a halt in the middle of the cavern.

“My aunt gave everything to uncover these ruin’s secrets,” she says.

“She did.”

Rayla looks back to Aunt Katria’s body between them. “I can’t let that man get away with stealing her work. I need to finish what she started.” Rayla and Ria gently set Aunt Katria’s body down. Rayla pulls out Aunt Katria’s journal, suddenly with a growing determination. She flips through and turns to the end where drawings and rough sketches populate the pages.

“If we just follow this, we can get through to see what she discovered. To see what is here.”

“With these tremors? Are you sure? I am sure she doesn’t want you falling to the same fate as she did,” Ria says.

“But I came all this way. I need to know if she found this—I need something else to say to my family that it was not all in vain.” What will she tell them when she returns? How can she possibly bear this news to them? The violent pain of Aunt Katria’s end threatens to tear Rayla limb from limb, but she breathes a steadying breath. “I’m sure. I need to do this.”

Turning back toward the depths of the cave silently, it is agreed. Rayla takes the lead, and they cross the fissure, climbing on fallen pillars and dive into the hallowed depths of the ruins. Tall golden-lit halls, overgrown with years of roots and lichen stand tall with statues, carvings, and more, but the tremors have wrought their work on the grand setting. Cracks, collapsed passageways, and more threaten to end their quest at every turn.

The threat of a cave-in or a way out closing in behind them when the cave begins to convulse sparks lightning-fast fear into Rayla’s veins as she pushes herself to go faster. Falmer appear from dark corners, but they are quickly taken down by Ria’s blade. Their path twists higher and higher into the depths of the mountain and soon, Rayla isn’t sure which way is what when they come to a large golden room that is empty. On edge from the tremors and after room after room, a long while seems to pass by when Rayla and Ria finally reach the top of the summit within the mountain. A large golden shrine sits in the room.

Rayla lets out a breath and her body sags with exhaustion.

“There’s no forge here. Where’s the forge? Did we miss it?!” Rayla’s questions tumble out of her mouth as she spins around in confusion. “We need it—we need to find—” Ria grabs Rayla’s arm to redirect her attention.

“It’s okay. We need to get out of here if we’ve seen everything. Alright?” Ria says. She pulls Rayla out with her, taking her back down the tunnel. Rayla tries to pull back, her mind reeling and her chest tight as if the tunnels are closing in around her. They can’t leave without proving that her aunt was the owner of her research, that it had been stolen from her.

“But—!”  

Ria slaps her palms against Rayla’s cheeks and pulls her close, nose to nose and stares deeply into her eyes. Her breath washes over Rayla’s face and she snaps out of her beginning panic.

“We. Need. To. Go. Now,” Ria orders. “Follow me. You came for your aunt and that’s who you’ve found. We need to get her body out of here safely too. You don’t want her getting buried in here, right? Once we get out of here alive, I swear to you that we will go over Katria’s journal and see what our next adventure is. Okay? We have enough proof that her works were stolen. But to continue the next step we need to survive.”

Rayla grasps the back of Ria’s hands with her own. She nods roughly, biting back the tell-tale burn of tears. It kills her to say it, but—

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

Ria and Rayla begin their hurried decent, twisting through pipe-lined tunnels and collapsing passageways. Nearly halfway down, they break into a run as they enter a room with a giant crack open in the middle. Ria runs around the crack but Rayla trips on something and falls to her knees.

“Ouch!” Rayla yelps. She hits the ground hard before sitting up and turning to see a bow tangled up between her feet. She freezes at the sight of the Dwarven bow, a coppery-green-gold colored metal. The bow string is intact and down the crack, it is visible where Katria’s body had fallen many levels below.

This is where Aunt Katria fell to her death. The bow is, Zephyr, the very bow Aunt Katria wrote to Rayla about, saying it was hers when she returned to Summerset Isle. Rayla quivers as she picks up the bow. Ria runs over and helps her up, urging her to continue on. Rayla follows, numb as they pass through the caverns and return to Aunt Katria’s body. In a rush, they pick up the blanket the body is within and carry her outside, chased by the tremors and falling debris.

As soon as the door to Arkngthamz opens, they spill outside, falling to the solid stone with relief. The fresh air hits Rayla in the face and a brisk Skyrim wind fills her next breath. She lies out on the stone, stretched alongside Ria and Aunt Katria as her limbs shake from the effort and tension of their journey.

Ria sits up and reaches out to pat Rayla on the back and grips her shoulder. They both look down on Aunt Katria’s remains.

They look out over the mountains and tumbling stone landscape before them.

“Let’s bury her here. Let her be remembered for her achievements,” Rayla says, more to the wind and herself, as if this is her final task in this chapter of her journey.

“I like that idea,” Ria murmurs.

Rayla did not find Aunt Katria in the way she expected and despite the heaviness she was sure she would never shake from her body or mind after the passing of such a beloved family member. The continuance of their adventure will come tomorrow. Today? Today is now her time to grieve so the rain may pass, and life can continue after the dead have received their blessings, recognition, and remembrance. After so many months of not knowing, Aunt Katria has been found.

The cool metal of Zephyr in Rayla’s hands and the bright sunlight above sow a small seed of hope in her chest. For whatever challenges still stand before them, whatever hardships continue as they begin their next adventure, she is certain they can handle it.