Images floated before Sevria's eyes as she slept... fast, fleeting memories of ages long past, of the joy and familiarity of her life in Valenwood before the tragedies that later claimed her peoples' lives. She saw her mother teaching her how to walk, then watched as her father trained her in the ways of hunting and gathering. And then she saw the silhouette of her chief in the sunset, standing tall and proud atop a grassy hill. This was before hatred had taken him... before he had turned his back on his people... she could remember how he had once been; he was mighty and imposing, but fair-minded and diplomatic. He was not the confused and violent wreck that Tamriel would come to know him as... in fact it made her sad to look upon him as he once was, for she could never forget the killer that took his place...
Her eyes opened as she woke from her restful sleep at the Bannered Mare. She took a moment to reflect upon her dream; life was so much simpler back in those days... but, those days had long passed, she reminded herself. It was time for her to move onward. Rising from her bed, she gathered her belongings and headed downstairs and purchased one last bottle of mead for the road.
"Will that be all for you?" Hulda asked.
Sevria nodded. "I don't have enough money to buy any more. And this drink makes me feel so strange... I don't think I should be buying it very much."
"Aye. It's best saved for evenings anyway."
Just then, the bard Mikael approached. "Oh, you're leaving?" He asked.
"I am." Sevria responded, "There is still so much of Skyrim I have yet to see... so I will continue to wander until I have seen it all."
"Well... it's a pity to see such a lovely young lady like yourself leave our fair city." Mikael flirted, in his usual manner. "Do come back sometime, won't you?"
Sevria's face turned red as she looked away. "M-maybe... heh..."
"Mikael?" A groggy voice chimed in, "Why are you out of bed, darling?"
Mikael's face suddenly turned white. "Um- uh- ..."
"Who's that?" Sevria asked innocently.
"N-nobody." Mikael stammered, "Just a friend."
A tall young woman came down from Mikael's bedroom, meaning to bring the bard back... before taking one look at Sevria's blushing expression.
"Mikael, who's this?" The woman asked.
"She's- she's just a traveler, that's all." Mikael nervously replied.
"He plays beautifully." Sevria commented, "And his words make me feel so strange and happy... he kept saying last night how beautiful I was and--"
The woman's eyes grew wide and glared at Mikael. "You've been flirting with her?! You said I was your one and only!"
"Ysolda, please, I can explain!" Mikael begged. "I didn't mean--"
"I don't want to hear it, Mikael. I'm going home."
And with that, the woman stormed out of the Bannered Mare as Sevria stood baffled by what she just saw. She took one more look at Mikael, now finally understanding what Talsgar said about him, and walked quietly toward the door. How could she have been so blind? She was putty in his hands until he'd exposed his true nature! Shaking her head to herself, she crossed through the city gates and gazed out into the world around her; there was so much to see... so many great mountains and grassy slopes... what wonders would she find out there, in the wilderness? What people would she meet? There was only one way to find out. And so she resumed her trek across Skyrim, heading east toward the city that the Nords called "Windhelm"...
Days passed. For nearly a week, she wandered the seemingly endless wilderness amid a flurry of predators, bandits, and storms... the most recent of which seemed never to end. Clutching herself in the cold rain, she looked every which way for some form of shelter; a cave, a ruin, an inn, anything just so long as it gave her some warm respite from the chilling storm. Then, just ahead in the distance, Sevria spotted what looked to be a pair of candle-lit windows... could this be the shelter she so desperately needed? She hurriedly rushed toward the lights, and beheld a curious-looking cabin; it was built of a single floor, with old-looking blackened wood making up its exterior. Carved into the middle of the door was what looked to be a five-pointed star sitting inside of a circle, with peculiar markings sitting at each point... and though she could not determine why, the sight of the little icon made Sevria uneasy. But this strange-looking place was her only chance to escape the rain, and so she knocked at the door in spite of how it made her feel.
The door creaked open to reveal a tall, black-haired woman with ivory skin, pitch-black lips, and the darkest eyes Sevria had ever seen. "A traveler?" The woman spoke in a regal and enigmatic tone, "I don't get many of your kind out here... please, come inside. You look nearly frostbitten."
Sevria nodded eagerly and hopped inside, beholding the sights around her; the light at the windows was no mere candle, but rather a fully lit fireplace sitting at the far right end of the room. The walls were adorned with old-looking paintings and bookshelves carrying numerous historical tomes, and just across from the fireplace there was a round table with fresh fruit sitting at its center. Dripping-wet and chilled to the bone, Sevria first sat before the fireplace, still clutching her arms and shivering in her seat.
"There, there..." The mysterious woman wrapped a warm cloak around Sevria's shoulders. "Feeling better?"
"Yes..." Sevria replied quietly. "Thank you."
"You're most welcome. It's been many long months since I've had the pleasure of company in this humble cabin of mine... I consider it a pleasure to have you here. What is your name, pretty one?"
"Sevria." She muttered. "Who are you?"
"I'm known by a number of names these days... you may call me Arabella."
"Are you... a Nord? You look like one... you sound like one..."
"You're attentive, aren't you? I like that." Arabella's voice briefly took a tone that left Sevria lightly confused. "Yes, m'dear, I am a Nord by birth... but I do not identify myself with their arrogant warrior culture. I much prefer my studies and my books, as opposed to bashing people over the head with shields and warhammers."
"Not all Nords are like that." Sevria said meekly.
"Naturally... every culture is diverse in and of itself. But few carry themselves with such pride as the Nords. Particularly here in the east."
Arabella sat down beside the shivering wood elf and watched the fire burn. Sevria looked again at her new friend; she was dressed in a long and dark robe, adorned with triangle patterns and a collar piece that seemed embellished with images of...
"Ravens." Sevria whispered.
Arabella looked inquisitively at her. "What?"
"On your dress. My people called them a-yo-hu-hi-s-di tsi-s-qua, or 'death-bird' in your tongue... they were said to be messengers from the spirit world."
"And you were not mistaken.They are very wise creatures... highly attuned to the underworld from whence they came. I consider the raven to be my talisman, in fact."
"Do you?"
"I do indeed."
"But... why do you idolize such a thing?"
"Personal reasons... nothing that someone so young and innocent as you would understand. ... Shall I get you something to eat? Or drink?"
"Yes, please. I'm starving, in fact..."
Arabella rose from her seat and handed Sevria a green apple from her table. "This should help you to regain your strength for later."
"Thank you." Sevria said politely, shakily accepting the apple from Arabella's hand.
"You know, I heard that Bosmer are attuned to extreme weather conditions like these..."
"Not the weather of Skyrim. The air is so cold here... so rigid... all I want to do is curl up in a warm place and sleep until the sun rises."
"I have a bed available. Perhaps you would like to... spend the night?"
This woman's strange tone of voice bewildered Sevria; something was very strange about Arabella. Of that, there could be no doubt. But what was it?
"I- I- I don't know..." Sevria pondered, "Would I not be imposing on your space?"
"Oh, nonsense. I usually sleep downstairs anyway... you can have the bed on this floor."
"Thank you again... such charity is unheard of in these times."
"It is my pleasure..." Now her tone seemed strangely foreboding... and that look in her eyes... it left Sevria feeling unsteady, and unsure of how this night would turn out.
As the night carried onward, Sevria tossed and turned in her bed while she slept. Her dreams this time were not of fond memories or of friends, but rather of unthinkable horrors that defied imagination; wretched beasts and hideous faces plagued her nightmares, and demonic creatures seemed to rip, claw, and tear at the fabric of her mind until finally Sevria woke from her sleep with a start. Lightning flashed through the window as it continued to rain outside, and the frightened wood elf looked around her room for any signs of the fiends that had tormented her... but it was indeed just a dream, and the abominations that had terrified her were nowhere to be found. But regardless, Sevria's body was left shaking uncontrollably from the horror of it all, and a torrent of sweat poured down her face... now there could be no doubt that there was something evil in this cabin. She knew she could no longer afford to stay there, but she couldn't just disappear without a word with her caretaker. And so, after gathering her belongings, she approached the basement to say a proper goodbye to Arabella.
Sevria cautiously creaked the basement door open and peered down into the space below. Though she had expected for the room to be pitch-black, she was surprised to find each step of the downward stairway to be illuminated by a pair of tiny candles on each end. As she carefully crept deeper into the basement, Sevria could hear the sound of Arabella speaking a strange, unfamiliar language... and every so often, a red light would flash through the whole room. What was she doing down there? Why was she speaking these words? As Sevria continued down the stairs, she noticed that each step was marked with varying symbols -- and as Arabella spoke, they seemed to glow red with the rest of the room. The surrounding lights began to darken -- Sevria's pace quickened down the steps -- Arabella's chanting became increasingly intense -- and then, finally, Sevria reached the basement room itself, and beheld a horrifying sight.
Arabella knelt before a large red star, with the same pattern and symbols as the star on her door. In front of the star stood a blasphemous altar build of ebony and brimstone, and laying flat on the altar was a decaying human corpse. As her chant reached its end, Arabella raised her arms to the air and the star flashed one last time, before simply glowing with evil energy as the corpse began to move. It gazed first at Arabella, its reanimator, before noticing Sevria behind her. The creature reached a rotted arm toward her and moaned loudly, and Arabella rose to her feet and looked ominously toward her. Sevria could no longer contain the horror she felt from what she'd seen in that moment; with an ear-piercing scream, she darted out from the basement and fled into the stormy forest outside, as Arabella's cabin disappeared behind a thick veil of deathly black smoke...
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