The New Faces of Skyrim

Chapter Four - Aira

Morning came far too quick. Just as the moons vanished and the sun began to shed a warm light over Riften, Aira began cursing the world. Dunane, used to this, shoved a piece of bread into her hands and set to work packing their armor. Leaving her to go over the bags, he went to leave a letter with a courier, canceling a mercenary mission into a nearby ruin. Because of that, the two set out a little later in the morning than expected.

The stable keep in Riften had been little to no help except to mention two things. The first thing he mentioned was the direction a cowled man and his odd sword had gone. The second was the odd influx of wolves on the path to Windhelm. Disgruntled, Aira thanked him for both bits of information and paid him a ridiculous amount of coin at his stubborn request. Both of his facts he had told her not the day earlier, but Aira had always been one to double check.

She guessed she could be thankful for the warning about the wolves. Twice now the two faced attacks from packs of three or more. The first even included a bear soon after, angry at being disturbed during his morning meal. Now, the third trio of wolves decided to make a pass at Aira and Dunane.

Why can't these animals just keep walking? Aira wondered, lunging forward.

Her sword's black blade slid down the wolf's maw, reappearing out the back of its neck with a sickening sound. The weight on the end of the blade increased with the dead animal's limp body and, with a sound of disgust, Aira kicked it away. Wiping the blade on a tussock of grass, she watched Dunane slay the last wolf with a burst of electricity.

Sheathing the weapon, Aira walked over to tend the horses. Her steed, a black stallion named Albik, pulled at his tie, threatening to take the branch with him. Dunane's mount, a palomino mare named Briar, minded her commands better, simply standing with her reins pooled on the ground. Only a slight scuffle mark showed her movement during the fight.

"Settle down." Aira set a hand on the neck of Albik. The creaking of the branch stopped and the taut reins went slack.

"I'm surprised he didn't break the branch." Dunane twisted a hand in Briar's mane and hooked a foot in the stirrup. "Are you sure you still want to ride him? You know we can find a buyer."

Aira watched him swing into the saddle, biting her cheek. "I told you," she said as she mounted. "I can handle him just fine. He and I --" she stopped, tugging Albik's head to the side when she felt him begin to rear. Dunane looked pleased.

"Apparently I told you," he chuckled.

Aira snorted. "He and I get along just fine," she finished. "Besides, we're almost to Windhelm. He'll calm down by then."

Unfortunately for her, Albik did not calm down. After prancing sideways all the way to Windhelm's stables, he had promptly thrown her down in front of the stablekeep tending the horses and snorted with a look that Dunane later described as "smugger than that one time he chased off a stallion just as big and got himself a pretty little mare." Aira had promptly ignored him and cursed the animal to Oblivion and back. The stablekeep refused to touch Albik, and Aira found herself forced to put him away.

Dunane's remark got it's well deserved payment in the form of carrying all the packs in. And, by the divines, they were heavy. Aira and her aching ribs did not feel sorry about that.

After shooing away Dunane and his fuss about healing spells, she began her interrogations. The Breton stomped off to ask around the marketplace nearby.

"Are you alright?"

Aira opened her eyes, staring back at the man talking to her. One hand rubbed her hip, the other circled around her midsection. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine. What did you say?"