Child (Book 2)

Chapter 9

Dear Vilkas,
I'm sorry I had to leave before you could wake. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can, and I'll write whenever I can.
-N

I walk slowly up the stairs in the early twilight hours of the morning. My journey has already been delayed, so there's no more time to waste. Every day, hour, and minute I waste, people suffer; people die.
As I enter the mead hall, I hear someone speak.
"Nova." I turn and see a face in the shadows by the door. Aela steps forward, letting her the blue light of early morning illuminate her face. She hollowed out by her rage; her skin pale, her eyes shadowed. That scratch remains on her face; I distantly think I might've done that too.
"Where have you been?" She asks quietly, her voice harsh and rasping. I'm silent for a long time.
"I need some time away." I tell her dryly, glaring slightly. I'm not sure if I'm angry with her anymore, but I doubt I can trust her. Another long silence follows
"I brought you something. I'm not sure how you'll feel about it, but I think you should have it anyway." She mumbles and directs her eyes to some shining armor laying on a bench next to her. I look and notice it's Wolf armor, like what Kodlak and Vilkas wear. Like what Skjor used to wear."It was Skjor's, but I had Eorlund reshape it to fit you." She tells me. I look at her, waiting for an explanation. Is this a peace offering or another smack in the face?
"You're one of us now, whether you like it or not. Might as well embrace it. If you're heading north, it'll keep you warm." She sighs as she walks back downstairs.
How did she know?

~

I hold out my hand in front of my face, attempting to shield it from the snow that flies all around me. The carriage driver doesn't even seem phased by the snow, but I assume he's been traveling the roads through blizzards longer than I've been alive. He pulls the horse to a slow stop.
"Here we are, miss." He shouts over the wind. I hand him some coins and begin to step out. I see nothing but snow in every direction.
"You couldn't have gotten a little closer?" I shout back. He chuckles.
"Just keep in that direction. It's just ahead, I promise you." He explains, pointing straight ahead of me.
Following his directions, I stumble forward through the snow drifts and wind. Sure enough, my boots soon step out of the snow and onto a solid rock path. I walk as quickly as I can, and after what seems like forever I finally find a tall, wooden door and push my way through it.
On the inside of the walls, the wind doesn't blow quite as fiercely, but everything is half buried in snow. I stumble to a tall stone building with a warm light glowing from its windows, hoping its inhabitants will let me stay within its walls until the blizzard clears. After I fight against the wind to shut the door back, a nasal voice speaks up behind me.
"Hello, welcome to Candlehearth Hall. What can I get for you? Maybe some mead to warm you up, or a bed for the night?" A woman asks as she wipes a mug with a cleaning cloth.
"This is a tavern? Thank the gods. Yes, I'd like a room for the night please." I tell her, slapping some gold on the counter.
"New to Windhelm eh?" She asks, rummaging under the counter for a room key.
"Yes. Just passing through. Any idea when this blizzard might clear out?" I ask.
"Not the slightest. No one has left their houses in three days, not even the guards. Can't get any messages for the Jarl about the war in or out. It's got him very anxious, from what I hear. You're the first person in here since Tirdas." She explains. I thank her and take the key to my room, trudging on tired feet. As soon as I'm inside I drop my knapsack and collapse onto the bed, rubbing the water and ice off of my face. I think back to Vilkas. What will he be doing now?

~

The next morning I rose slowly out of bed from a restless sleep. I haven't slept peacefully in weeks, excluding the night I spent with Vilkas. I can't begin to describe the horrible, bloody things I see in my nightmares. I must hunt soon; I don't want to push it.
I pull the armor Aela gave me back on. It's Skyforge steel, lined with black wolf fur. Perhaps she meant it as an insult, but I actually think it's quite funny; I imagine Skjor would roll in his grave at the thought of me inheriting both his armor and his position. And she was right, it definitely kept me warm on the trip to Windhelm.
"Sleep well dear?" The innkeeper asks.
"Yes, thank you. I forgot to ask; what's your name?" I ask her.
"Elda Early-Dawn, dear. And you?" She tells me.
"Novariana. Can I have a bit of whatever you have that's hot?" I ask quietly, pulling out my coin purse.
"I always ask in case we get any couriers passing through with letters. Oh, and that storm finally cleared." She tells me as she hands me a wooden bowl of stew; it smells decent, so it can't be skeever. I don't think I could ever eat skeever again after what happened to Marcurio. I thank her and take my plate up to the loft of the tavern, where I can hear someone singing along with the quiet whining of a lute. I eat my stew quietly, listening to the Dunmer bard's song and various conversations in the small room.