Daughter to Dragons- a Skyrim inspired fantasy

Chapter Eight

“Don’t mistake my confusion for rejection.”  I leaned back in my chair, studying every sharp angle of his bronzed face.  “I like what you’re doing here, Malborn.  After I finish my mission, I may have to come back and help you with this war of yours.”

He smiled, an honest smile for once.  “It would be an honor, my lady.  Though I think the world needs to out there fighting the Thalmor in the best way you can.”  He slid the parchment off the table and began rolling it up.  “If you find yourself in the area, know that you have a friend among us.”  He held out the rolled map to me.  “Take it.  You’re going to need it to navigate all the way to Whiterun.”  He gave me a knowing wink.  “And perhaps beyond.”

The plains of Whiterun Hold were a stark contrast to the mountainous hills and valleys of the Reach and the vast, green forests of Falkreath.  Great, grey boulders dotted the flat landscape.  Towering mountains dominated the distant horizon.  With very few natural barriers to guard themselves with, it was no surprise to know that hardly any towns or villages were found in the greats plains.  In the distance, the outline of the roof of Dragonsreach beckoned to us—always within sight but hardly moving any closer.

I looked to the sky, squinting my eyes against the orange glow of the setting sun.  A cold breeze whipped through my hair, sending shivers down my body.  To the north, I spotted ominous grey clouds moving upon us.  “We should make camp for the night,” I told Rhythe.  “A northern storm is coming and I want to have a fire ready to brace it.”

He groaned.  He had been opposing me every night when I would suggest stopping to make camp.  I knew exactly what line was to come next.  “But we still have a couple more hours of daylight left.  If we keep at this rate, we’ll never make it.”

I crossed my arms and glared at him, waiting for him to submit.  “I’d rather take an extra day getting there rather than freeze to death on the road.  I know of a good place to set up camp.  Follow me.”  I had learned almost every hill and valley of the hold during my youth.  When my mother was still alive, the three of us would go hunting, camping, and exploring together, all in Whiterun Hold.

I set off the road with a reluctant Rhythe in tow.  After a few minutes of searching, I found the place.  Years ago, we had discovered a small bandit camp nestled between to rocky hills.  It was the perfect place to make camp, which was why the bandits were more than willing to fight for it.

The remnants of a fire pit were still there, though it looks like it hadn’t been used in a long while.  I quickly began setting the stones back in place around the pit.  “Hand me some firewood,” I told Rhythe.

He huffed and puffed, but he put his pack down and dug to the bottom.  He pulled out a couple of pieces of wood and tossed them to me.  I tore up some dry grass and stuffed the spaces around the wood with it.  I looked up at the sky.  The clouds were rolling quickly towards us, like the waves rolling in the Sea of Ghosts on the northern shore of Skyrim.

“Do you want me to light the fire?” he asked, letting a spark of fire dance around his fingers.

I shook my head.  “No, I want to try it.  You go try to catch us a rabbit or something.  I’m hungry.”

He snorted, giving me a little eye roll.  I scrunched my nose up at him in response.  He just chuckled, leaning down to pick up his bow.  “Try not to set the whole country of fire, okay?”

I held my hand out in front of my face, trying to focus on heat and fire.  “Just go hunt something!” I snapped at him and returned to my task.  He walked off somewhere behind me.  I heard the crunching of the grass fade away and I knew I was alone.