Skyrim Unbound: Profit and Loss

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Evesa trundled along, carrying twice as much as Ryti and not exactly enjoying it. But she comforted herself with the vast amount of money she would be making once they finally sold some of this. Possibly even enough to buy the land for a homestead, when combined with the money she already had stashed away in her bag. It was dangerous to bring so much money and so much loot on your person, as thieves, bandits, and all manner of unsavory characters would be all-too-happy to take it from you. So despite her own fatigue, and her own body's protests at carrying the weight that she was, Evesa kept watch for danger as they trundled along the road.

It was not long before Evesa noticed dark movement in the trees. She stopped and dropped her pack, shooting Ryti a look that told her to do the same. For the moment, she would look as though they were merely taking a break along the side of the road. Her hands subtly maneuvered towards Dayblade and Nightdagger, the oh-so-creative names she had come up with for her malachite sword and ebony dagger during the previous night of watch.

Just as she was drawing her weapon, two thieves attacked together, without any warning, coordinating their work. Good, they were a little less idiotic than those inbred bandits, shame she would have to dispatch them. The pair could tell by Evesa's armor and demeanor that she was one of them, and would not give up her treasures without a fight, which is why they had not wasted time trying to bargain with her, and had tried to double-team her. Still, attacking the woman at all was a fatal mistake. She was still bruised, burned, and scraped up from the dragon attack the day prior, and fatigued from not sleeping through the night, but even in this condition, two thieves would not pose a threat.

She drew her blades just as she rolled out of the way of the pair's first attack. With a fluid motion, the mercenary swung her body and blades back around, just in time to parry the second blow and stand once more. Her sword in her right hand, she jumped, dodged, and parried her way out of the blows, for when she landed one of her own, she would be sure that it was a fatal attack. Finally, after only a few minutes of the tit for tat, her opening came, and she plunged Dayblade into the blond-haired Nord female assailant's heart, thrusting right through the woman's leather armor. The red-haired Imperial next to her hesitated for a moment, as he registered the body of his dead mate. Evesa, never one for wasting an opportunity, took the moment to disarm his steel sword and hold her dagger up to his throat.

"Thieves, hmm? I can see that I've killed your wife, so I'll let you live. But you were going to rob me, and that's just not acceptable. I'll take 200 gold as compensation, and you may leave to bury your dead." The man before her grimaced slightly, and almost imperceptibly nodded his head, but he was not responding to the mercenary. What Evesa did not notice, was a third thief hiding behind the tree-line, with an arrow pointed at her back, at least... there was supposed to be one.
 
Ryti better noticed Evesa's sudden halt this time around, and succeeded in stopping before she almost ran into her. They had been walking for long enough now that Ryti knew that something was wrong; Evesa didn't stop in the middle of the road for breaks. She had the time to properly untie her strange pack from her back, for which Ryti was glad. She did not really want to have to cut the ropes, as they would not be easy to replace, and she would be back to having to find some way to haul the rucksacks along.

She dropped the pack as delicately as possible on the ground, before slipping into Evesa's shadow, her face a mask of worry. She had once had to fight a massive street-dog that had been roaming the alleys of Cyrodiil. It had found her stash of food, the one she had holed away at the very edge of someone's yard. Her mother forgave stealing, but there were times where it was better not to bring too much food home. She kept the food there constantly rotating so that none of it would ever go bad, but on certain days that little stockpile was all that kept her mother and herself from going without food for days on end. She had tackled the dog from behind, driving a sharp little shiv into its head, just behind its ear. The thing had bucked her off, sending her crashing into a nearby wall and dislocating one of her shoulders. But it had died moments later, eyes wide and rolling, tongue lolling out of its mouth. She had carved it up, selling most of the meat to a butcher who had almost certainly skimped her for the deal.

But people were another matter all together. They weren't going to be distracted by food, even if Ryti had some to offer. They were robbers, bandits, people who wouldn't hesitate to kill in a split second if things didn't go their way. And doubtless they had far more skill, and far better weaponry, than her little dagger and cooking skills.

She let out a small squeak when they finally came rushing out of the forest, and dove away as Evesa moved forward to meet them. For one brief moment Ryti watched them, her eyes going wide in surprise. The mercenary was far better than Ryti had expected, if she was able to hold off two bandits all by herself. Ryti had spent her whole life watching the guards, who overwhelmed any enemy more through strength of numbers than high levels of skill. She would have loved to see any of them take on the two bandits as Evesa now did, her new blades glinting in the sunlight, and soon enough soaked with red.

But a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye caused Ryti to turn her head away from the fight, despite her worry that she might miss something important. And she was glad a second later that she had, for there was a third bandit creeping towards the fight. A bow was drawn and held tightly in two hands, and his eyes were fixed on Evesa. Ryti crawled backwards, disappearing into the trees near the path, suppressing another whimper.

What did she do now? As occupied as she was, Evesa would never notice if Ryti disappeared into the woods, and it was just as likely that she would never be able to find the fleet-footed girl again. At the same time, if Ryti left now, it was almost certain that Evesa would be took from behind by an arrow. Despite her gruff exterior, there was a shred of mercy in the mercenary. She would rather the other bandit run than have to kill him. And that would be the moment that the third bandit got her.

She let out a shaky breath, knowing that her decision had already been made, even if she hadn't realized it. She couldn't leave Evesa to die, even though she did not trust the mercenary. She could claim it was for selfish reasons, such as the fact that she truly had no idea where she was, and the wilds of Skyrim were not a place to be roaming alone. But, in truth, the mercenary was as close as Ryti had come to having a friend in a long time, as sad as that might make her feel.

She crept through the shadows, placing her feet lightly on the duff that littered the forest floor, desperately hoping that she wouldn't make a sound, and wind up with an arrow in the chest as a reward for her heroics.

Lady Nocturnal, the shadows are your home. Ryti intoned silently, jumping immediately towards the portion of her childhood prayer concerning the goddess of darkness and luck. It was a mostly pointless prayer, as Ryti had been taught never to beg for anything from the gods, not even when she needed it most. But the illusion of contact calmed her heart and settled her breathing, and she moved forwards like a cat.

She settled behind a tree, peering out at the archer, Evesa, and the one thief who was still standing. Evesa had not turned around, had yet to notice the thief creeping up behind her. Ryti had no wish to engage the archer in combat, but from the way things were going she realized she had no choice. There was only one thing that calm nod that the bandit offered could mean. Take her out.

Boethiah, Ryti thought suddenly, impromptu. I give thanks for the skill in your dark art as I take his life from the shadows. The dagger was in her hand, even though she couldn't remember pulling it out, and she was moving forwards. There was no time for her to think. There was only time to act. She flew at the bandit from the darkness, her dagger held tight in one hand. She drove it into his side as she tackled him, and she felt the tip of her dagger collide with something hard before slipping upwards and into his flesh. One of his ribs, she thought absentmindedly, even as his blood began to cover her hands.
 
The male thief waited for his hidden archer to loose an arrow at this skilled adventurer, but the arrow never came. Zaia risked taking her eyes off of the man for one moment, long enough to look around and see that her meek little assistant was no longer waiting on the road, and that where the thief was looking, she saw no one at first. That is, until a flash of Ryti's pathetic leather armor emerged from behind a tree.

For the moment ignoring her shock that the tiny child was capable of dispatching anyone, much less a trained archer, she turned back to the Imperial thief before her, pretending that none of this was unexpected. "My partner has clearly taken care of your other associate. Your backup is done. Give me my compensation now, so that I can spare your life and let you bury your dead."

"You've killed my wife and brother, so you might as well kill me now. What else have I to live for?"

"Occupational hazard. Should have thought about that prior to attacking my companion and I," Evesa replied coldly, her dagger moving just a millimeter into the would-be thief's skin. "I'll give you one last chance, before I slit your throat, search your bodies for gold and valuables, and then leave you to rot. Just as you would have done to me."

The formerly confident thief kneeling before Evesa looked broken now, his eyes glazed over in despair. "Kill me and take what you want. At least I'll be with them again in Sovngarde."

"Ha, people like us don't go to Sovngarde," Evesa replied coldly, before slitting the thief's throat and letting him bleed out.

"You can come out now, Ryti," she muttered, calling out to the little girl. "We don't need their armor, but I want any gold or valuable items from these bodies. Wash your hands first, I dont want blood on my shiny septims." There was no mention that the tiny girl had effectively saved her life, or even a job well done, just more orders, as if stabbing people were part of the innocent prisoner's job description.
 
Despite Ryti's initial surprise attack, her blow was not perfect. She had never stabbed anyone before, and while there was doubtless going to be internal bleeding that would eventually kill him, he was not dead yet. The hunter reacted as best as he was able, under the circumstances, lashing out at her with a fist and sending her sprawling backwards. She tried not to let go of the dagger, but as his fist collided with her head her hand spasmed, and the hilt slipped from her grasp.

She fell backwards and hit her head against a tree, letting out a small whimper. She thought she heard someone sighing at her, but who would be making such a noise? The only one nearby was the hunter, and he certainly wasn't sighing. In fact, she could vaguely make out him swearing violently at her as he pulled the dagger from his side and flung himself at her.

Ryti's body seemed to move without her own control. She ducked sideways, under his lunge, snagging his forearm and pulling it backwards with the use of his own momentum. He made a surprised noise, and her dagger fell from his hand. She scooped it out of the air, slicing her hand open, but threw it forward, embedding the piece of weaponry in his neck. He shuddered, took a ragged breath, and then fell against the tree that Ryti had only vacated moments ago, his eyes vacant and glassy.

The energy that had seemed to fill her body vanished as soon as it came, and her knees began to wobble under her. Her head was pounding, and the world seemed to be spinning. She only wanted to sit down, but she made her way over to the body, pulling the dagger out of his neck, unmindful for the blood that splattered on her armor. She turned herself around when she heard Evesa's voice, trying to focus in on that familiar thing.

she stumble her way out of the trees, and looked around, trying to find Evesa in her rapidly darkening world. She didn't realize that she was going to faint until she was toppling towards the ground. But she needed to go wash her hands...
 
This time, it was Evesa that sighed as her useless companion fell to the ground. "It was just one kill," she muttered, clear annoyance in her voice. For the moment, she just left Ryti there and gathered their bags into one set. Briefly, she even considered just taking back the money she had given to the child the night before, and then wandering on on her own, leaving Ryti's unconscious body to the elements and wildlife of the Skyrim wilderness. This novice was more trouble than she was worth.

And for a few minutes, she was really going to do that. She gathered the money from the dead thieves, leaving Ryti in the dirt, and began to pack it away. But then she reached the one hiding in the trees that she had not noticed, the archer who had been ready to loose an arrow into her back...

Without even fully articulating why she was doing it, she stood up and walked back to Ryti's unconscious body, gently lifting her up and placing her by the stream. Moving all of the bags over to her (couldn't allow them to get stolen now), she rummaged in one and pulled out a change of clothes, turning it into a makeshift pillow. She tore a sleeve from one of the shirts and wet it in the river, coming back to the child and wiping her forehead and face. Then she cleaned the blood from the girl's hands.

It struck her how young this child really was. She could not be older than about eighteen, and looked more like fifteen, she was so thin and undernourished. Besides, Evesa needed the help for now... she couldn't carry all those bags herself after all. And the girl was a good cook. Sighing, and realizing they probably would not get to Falkreath today, she began to set up a camp again.
 
Ryti came to quite suddenly. One second she was asleep, eyes twitching restlessly behind closed lids, and then next she was sitting upright, a sudden gasp slipping from between her lips, her eyes flying open in panic. She regretted the sudden movement as soon as she did it, and it felt as though something was trying to beat its way out of her skull from the spot where her head had collided with the tree. She lay back down carefully, trying not to let the wounded place on her head actually touch anything.

It took her a moment to sort through where she was and what had just happened. She pulled one of her hands up before her eyes, curious, remembering the warm blood that had drenched her as she had stuck her knife into the man's side. It was lucky that her stomach was empty, otherwise she might have puked, Instead, she pulled her knees up to her chest and prayed that Evesa might let her rest for another couple of moments.

She knew that the mercenary was not going to be pleased with her. In fact, it was almost a bit of a surprise that Ryti found herself in a different location than where she had fainted. Was it mercy that had kept the mercenary with her? Was it some form of attachment? Was it out of some obligation that she felt towards Ryti, who might have saved her life? Or was it simply practicality, for she still needed her new pack-mule?

Whatever reason, Ryti set it to the side of her mind. She was hungry, but the pain in her gut was mild compared even to some of the hunger-pangs she had felt on her journey up to Skyrim. Were they going to be moving again soon? Right now, all she wanted to do was go back to sleep.
 
Evesa had set up the tent again and was stoking the fire when she heard a gasp coming from Ryti's general direction. "Good, you're awake," she commented aloud, but for the moment, otherwise ignored the half-breed. "We might as well take a break for a few more hours. I'm tired and Falkreath will still be there tomorrow. That is, if you don't mind one more night sleeping out under the stars."

She took a took her mortar and pestle and ground up some Nirnroot with a bit of the garlic left over from the previous night, and then added a bit of water to turn the dust into a gooey paste in its bowl. The concoction would not be tasty, but it would help the child gain her strength back. Quickly, she also filled up a skin with stream water and handed it to the girl.

"Eat this and then drink the water," the mercenary ordered coldly, handing both items to the sick child without much gentleness or ceremony. She did not even bother to explain to the nearly useless child what the root would do.

When Ryti had finished with the medicinal paste, the mercenary pulled another small piece of salmon out of her bag and handed it to her patient. "Here, this will help wash down the awful aftertaste. I'm running out of my meat reserves, but we have enough for another two days. When we get to Falkreath I'll buy us some more from one of the general stores or something. Or maybe we can go hunting. That's always fun. Do you need anything else?"

Evesa was unsure why she was even bothering to help this useless half-breed herself. Surely it was not some sort of obligation to the girl for inexpertly managing to kill the third thief. Ha, yeah right. Really she needed Ryti to be healthy so she could carry the bags assigned to her. Evesa was strong, but she had already taken her limit of stuff. And well, the mercenary was tired. This wouldn't be the worst time to catch up on the sleep she had missed during the previous night, after Ryti napped again then she could keep watch and wake the adventurer up if there was any trouble.
 
Ryti opened her eyes and tried to sit up as Evesa began to speak. She wanted to sigh, wanted to complain, but such things would earn no favorable response from the mercenary. In fact, complaints were far more likely to gain her punishment than any sort of sympathy. So it took a moment for Ryti to understand what it was Evesa was telling her. They could stay. she didn't have to get up, didn't have to put that cursed pack back on and hike until it felt like her legs were going to fall off. A small smile flickered across her face, and Ryti carefully lowered herself back to the ground.

She did her best to direct her thoughts away from what it was that had brought her to be lying on the ground in the first place. All things considered, she would have rather hiked far into the night than... than take... than kil... She shook her head, letting out a small whimper. Ryti was not a mercenary. She would not have dreamed of taking someone else's life solely for her own profit. She fought for her own survival, because she believed that she deserved to live, but she wasn't a killer.

Yet she also knew, had she not been there to take the life of the archer, it was entirely possible that it would be Evesa's corpse cooling in the afternoon air, body striped of anything that could be considered even remotely valuable. That time, she had not been fighting for her own survival, but for the survival of another. And perhaps that was an even better reason to fight than for the survival of self.

So she took the paste that Evesa offered her with no complaint, and didn't even made a face as she quickly ate the bitter paste. She swallowed the cold water in small gulps, before devotedly scraping the last of the oddly colored paste from the small bowl. She was only mildly surprised that Evesa would offer up her supplies to help her recover, but it made sense. The longer Ryti was weak, the less distance they would be able to travel each day.

What did surprise her was when Evesa offered her the last of the smoked fish, and, not only that, but offered to take her hunting. She was so surprised, in fact, that she nearly fumbled the food as she took it. Ryti shook her head carefully, eyes wide with surprise, in response to her question if Ryti needed anything else.

But, when the mercenary turned her back, Ryti felt a small smile spread across her face. Maybe there was something more in the mercenary's actions than general necessity after all.
 
The little halfling had resolve, even Evesa had to give her that. The adventurer was mildly impressed that her charge did not even grimace at eating the awful paste she had been given. Of course, it really had been medicinal, but Evesa herself had balked at it the first time the little potion had been fed to her.

After tending to Ryti, the mercenary sat down by the river and finished reading Tullius' diary. This managed to amuse her for about an hour, but eventually she finished the book and threw it into the fire with the rest of the kindling. "One less thing to carry," she muttered, smirking slightly.

The Dunmer's white hair glistened in the noonday sun as she sat down again next to Ryti and looked at her.

"We are staying here for a few more hours. I'm going to nap 'cause I didn't sleep last night. Then we are going to walk into the late night most likely. I expect you to keep watch and to wake me if anything dangerous approaches," the harsh mercenary paused for a minute, realizing that Ryti very well might be too afraid to follow her instructions.

"For the record, if it's a real emergency, I promise I won't be angry at you, though if you wake me just for a rat or something I'll slit your damn throat." She pointed to the food pack.

"The food is over there, you'll find some vegetables and leftover spices from last night to prepare a late lunch. Have something ready when I wake up. Other than those two things, try to use the remaining time to rest and regain your strength."

The mercenary's voice was strict, and brooked no disobedience, but it was not harsh or angry, only firm. And without bothering to wait for a reply, she went into the tent, rolled out her bedroll, and fell asleep.

Evesa had not always been able to sleep so easily after a kill. In fact the first time she had killed another human being, her reaction had been not dissimilar to Ryti's... not that she would ever dare admit that to anyone, especially her companion. But one grew desensitized to such things over the years, living the kind of life she led. A tendency towards violence was the way of things in Skyrim, given all the dangers there were in traveling. You killed for your food, and you killed to defend yourself if and when something or someone attacked you on the road. How different was it really to kill for profit?
 
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Ryti lay back down as soon as she had finished the salmon, staring blankly at the midday sky. Soon her breathing settled out, and her eyes fluttered closed again. However, he was awoken once more when Evesa moved away from the river. She sat up, and was pleased to realize that her head was no longer spinning and her hands were no longer shaking. She hadn't believed that Evesa was going to poison her. Well, maybe the thought had crossed her mind once, but she hadn't seriously believed it. It was still good to know that the glop had a beneficial effect, despite its awful flavor.

She watched the mercenary curiously, but winced violently when she threw the book in the fire. Things like that had been rare enough in her life that she could never stand to see them abused or disposed of. She would have treasured a book in her past. But it wouldn't be worth the burns to fish it out of the fire, and she didn't know what she would do with it anyways. It wasn't as though she was really going to have much time for reading. Instead, she watched the pages curl sadly, and tried not to let her heart shrivel a little bit as well. It was just a book. Just a book someone had devoted a great amount of time to writing, and was one of the last remaining relics of his or her thought. She could see the scrawl slowly fading as the heat yellowed the pages and then turned them black. She turned her eyes away.

She did force herself to pay strict attention to everything Evesa told her afterwords though, despite the natural instinct of her eyes to try and stray back to the fire. She didn't let them, whenever possible. Instead, she devoted herself to trying to count Evesa's words, although not so seriously as she might get distracted and miss something important.

It was quiet again once Evesa lay down; quiet in a way that only the deep wilderness could ever know. People made a very certain kind of noise, and it tended to travel. It was strange to hear none of that but the sound of her own breath and her own pounding heart. She slipped naturally back into her prayer, into her quiet litany of contact with the aedra and daedra, as she moved over to Evesa's pack. It looped through her mind as she fished out the food, and began to prepare the meal, efficiently and diligently. Every few seconds she would pause in what she was doing and carefully survey the area. After the thieves, Ryti didn't trust some other unfriendly visitor not to come along. Worrying about that a little bit, Ryti kept the flavoring in the soup tastefully mild. She was not one to under-spice food when she had the option, but overspicing in this environment would not do either.

She carefully took a sample of the soup, making a soft noise of pleasure in the back of her throat. She then fished out a couple of bowls so that everything would be ready when Evesa woke, and left the pot to simmer over the coals, to seep out the last bits of flavor. That completed, she settled back to rest, her side towards the fire. She was still diligent in her watching, especially downwind of the food. But all seemed quiet.
 
Evesa had noticed Ryti's wince when she had thrown her book into the fire, but she did not comment on the expression. It had not been her intention to upset the girl, but to her the book was just the musings of a disturbed and perverted man. The mercenary could get no more amusement out of it, and it was just one more thing to carry.

At any rate, the mercenary rolled out her bedroll and tucked herself in, enjoying the light sounds of the wilderness. The wind moving though the trees, rustling the branches. The sounds of various insects and other wildlife. There were some nights that Evesa did not even bother with tents, for she enjoyed sleeping under the stars. But this was not night, and she needed the tent in order to keep some of the light from her eyes. Besides, when carrying enough to make an adventurer rich, it was best to keep the loot in some kind of protection.

The adventurer felt remarkably secure in trusting Ryti to keep watch for a few hours, though she was unsure why. The girl had been nothing but helpful for the past two days, no matter how rudely Evesa treated her. She had then saved her life, and perhaps most importantly, it was unlikely that she had any clue how to navigate in the wilderness, and was afraid of getting lost. Evesa would be happy to let the girl go once they sold off enough of the goods that the mercenary could handle them on her own. But the thought gave her a little pang in her throat. Whether she would admit it or not, she was coming to like the girl's company, and a second set of eyes, even an incompetent one, had already proven itself to be better than none.

Gradually, Evesa drifted off into a dreamless sleep, the kind of sleep that only an experienced killer could experience after killing two people, even in self-defense. Just under four hours passed before she awoke groggily, but she rapidly came to and realized she was more than ready to get underway.

"Good afternoon, kid. Did you do everything I asked?" she yawned, already seeing the soup on the fire, and noting that the food supply had not been ravaged by bears or something.

"Watch me take down the tent again while you serve me a bowl, mmk?" she requested, already starting the process again, knowing that this task would go faster if she just did it herself. Perhaps eventually she would teach Ryti to do it properly, but for now they needed to hurry. Besides, she was sure the little girl would want to leave her presence as soon as possible. Most people who met the mercenary these days did, and with good reason.

When the tent was packed away, Evesa sat down by the fire and took the bowl from Ryti.
 
Luckily for Ryti, the world decided to remain quiet and peaceful during her watch. She enjoyed the moment of solitude immensely, as it was one of the few moments of perfect stillness she had been able to obtain since being forced out of Cyrodiil with the rest of the prisoners. The wilderness of Skyrim seemed to promote stillness. She was almost certain that it was a deceptive sort of stillness, the calm before the storm, as it was, yet still the stillness was there. And she decided to relish in it.

When Evesa finally woke, Ryti straightened up, turning her attention completely to the mercenary. She let out a quiet breath, relieved to know that both of their lives were no longer resting in her hands, before turning back to the fire. She crawled around to the opposite side, carrying the bowls, neatly stacked on top of each other, in one hand. This way she would be able to dish out the thick broth, while still paying attention to everything Evesa was showing her.

The tent fell quickly under Evesa's experienced fingers, and Ryti once more did her best to memorize the action. She was able to pick out a few steps that she remembered from last time, yet there were enough times that she got twisted around inside her own head that she was sure the tent would once more end up in a jumbled mess the next time she tried. She needed some way to remember the steps, but that was a task for another moment. Maybe she would think about it while they were walking.

She offered the bowl to Evesa as soon as the woman sat down, before turning her attention to her own food. She sipped at it delicately, pleased with herself, before taking a larger gulp, careful not to let the hot liquid scald her tongue and throat.

She was not familiar with the layout of Skyrim, but she knew they were heading to Falkreath, and from everything Evesa had said they would be there within a day or two. She briefly allowed herself to wonder what was going to happen then. No doubt Evesa would go on her way, as she did not seem the type to stay still for very long. Ryti, most likely, would stay in the smaller city, try and find someone who would take her in as an apprentice. With the money she would be getting from Evesa, she would be able to care for herself until the necessary income started to come in.

Of course, Evesa had never promised to allow Ryti to walk away from her. Maybe the mercenary liked having a meek little slave along for the ride, or maybe whatever had been promised to her for escorting the prisoners was still waiting for her to claim, and Ryti, being the only living prisoner, was thus necessary to the safety of her income. She couldn't help but hope that the mercenary might actually let her go, especially now, but there was no doubt that Evesa was primarily concerned with her own income. All that was in question was how much Ryti was worth to her.
 
The fare was excellent as usual, and Evesa ate slowly, savoring each bite. Her little prisoner really was an excellent cook. The mercenary herself was a half-decent alchemist, but she could never blend the spices as perfectly as Ryti did. And the little girl had proven herself useful in dispatching enemies and acting as a second pair of eyes. In truth, Evesa liked having her along. And fortunately, they would be together for much longer, regardless of what Ryti wanted. The mercenary still needed her prisoner to receive the rest of her bounty at the Solitude mines. As soon as the charade was over, she could almost as easily tie the girl up and drag her along if she had to. The trip would surely be less pleasant that way, however.

When she was finished eating, she gave her bowl to Ryti to clean and pack away and put out the fire. Within five minutes, she had packed her bags, sheathed her weapons, and was on the road again.

"We'll be walking until the middle of the night now," the adventurer commented darkly, after only a few minutes. "Certain animals and other unsavory creatures like to stalk the world of Skyrim at night. Be on your guard after sunset."
 
They didn't speak much during dinner, but Ryti was fine with that. She had never spoken with people much, even in her childhood. She had watched, envied for a while until her mother taught her better, but never spoke. If Evesa had tried to talk with her, it was likely that Ryti would just wind up ducking her head, responding faintly, if at all.

She focused on her meal, but found herself often glancing up and around, scanning the area. It surprised her how quickly she had settled into the watch rhythm, but she was quietly proud of herself. Skyrim echoed with the sounds of evening. In the distance she heard a sudden, low rumble, and she glanced up to see a sheet of snow tumble off the side of the mountain. She made a small noise of pleasure, and almost pointed out the avalanche to her traveling companion, before biting her lower lip and lowering her finger.

Evesa finished her meal before Ryti did, and the young half-elf decided to be slightly bold. She sat down Evesa's bowl, and silently finished her food, but the meal lost all flavor very quickly due to the nerves pounding in the back of her mind, and she found herself finishing quickly anyways. She cleaned the bowls quickly but thoroughly, her hands tingling from the cold water, before returning to Evesa and packing the last of the cooking supplies away.

Only a few moments later she had struggled her way to her feet, heavy pack once more bearing down on her thin legs. She chewed the inside of her lip, before shivering in worry. She quickly trotted a few paces closer to Evesa, resolving to stay as near the mercenary as she could without tripping either of them up.

And, with those final words of warning, the two of them were walking again. It was easier to stay focused, but Ryti still found herself often looking at the ground, especially as the sky began to get darker.

But, two hours after sunset, a touch of colored light stained the path before her. Ryti looked up, and the sky was dancing. She let out a small gasp of pleasure, almost stopping, before glancing forward wildly and jogging a few steps to catch back up. But, for as long as they kept walking, Ryti glanced up on occasion, and a smile spread across her face.
 
It was quite commendable for Ryti to try to stand up to the mercenary in some small way, but unfortunately, Evesa was completely oblivious to the small bit of rebellion. So long as her employee completed her tasks fast enough not to slow her down or somehow put her in danger, she did not particularly care what the young woman did.

So she picked up her own packs and once again trundled along the road, keeping an ear and an eye out for any thieves, dragons, vampires, or wild animals. But otherwise, she enjoyed the sounds of nature, the buzzing insects, the whines of wild goats, the rustle of the wind through the trees. It could be very peaceful at times, and it did distract her from the weight of her own heavy packs.

The sunset was gorgeous, and unlike Ryti, she kept her eyes skyward throughout the whole thing. She thoroughly enjoyed the orange and purple lights as the sun set in that unfathomable sky, whose secrets only the gods and the dragons would ever know. The starry night was no less beautiful, and she found herself looking for shapes connected in the dots of light, enjoying the purples, blues, and greens, that filled the sky. If only she could capture such an image for posterity, but she had never been an artist. Perhaps someday, after she retired, she would learn.

Of course, Evesa would never admit that she enjoyed these things. "A heartless thief … who enjoys sunsets and moonlit walks" would not do good things for her image. As a mercenary in the harsh lands of Skyrim, one did not ever want to look soft. Generally if you seemed weak, more people would challenge you. The more people who challenged you, the more chance you would have to kill them, or worse, would get yourself killed. So there were few mercenaries who would ever admit to having the heart of a Bard.

The pair waked for many hours, until the moon was high in the sky, but finally Evesa stopped and put her finger over her mouth, a wholly unnecessary gesture as her companion hardly spoke anyway. She heard a rustling in the trees, and she saw a dark shape.

But before the beast could attack them, Evesa shot an arrow directly where she had seen the indistinct shape, and with a moan, the beast fell. It was only after the kill that she saw that it was a moderately-sized bear she had just killed.

"Well, damn. I really want to skin this guy for furs and meat, but do you have any idea how much that would weigh? And I don't want to be stuck here for an hour when something worse could attack. Whatcha think kid?" she asked, looking at Ryti. It did not even occur to her how strange it was that she was asking the little girl's opinion on anything, given that it was only a lie that made Ryti an employee and not an outright prisoner.
 
Ryti shook her head back and forth wildly, more in panic and confusion than in any sort of denial. She glanced at the bear quickly, her eyes flitting between the dark, huddled shape, and Evesa's equally dark silhouette.

She had only just been getting used to walking through the painfully dark Skyrim wilderness when Evesa had suddenly come to a halt. Ryti had immediately frozen, her hand dropping to the dagger strapped to her thigh. But she had only been able to weakly grasp at the dagger hilt before Evesa had strung her bow and sent the arrow off into her woods. Ryti had barely been able to contain a squeak, certain that she was about to see a massive bear or sabertooth cat come barreling out of the woods, howling furiously. She had, however, let out a small sigh of relief when she saw the shadowy figure slump instead of coming at them.

Trutfully, it had startled Ryti almost as much when Evesa spoke to her. She knew that the mercenary was not silent, not by any means, but in the dark Evesa became a figment of her imagination. She was a familiar shadowy form, accompanying Ryti on a journey through her own mind. Now she was asking Ryti for advice? It would have been funny if it hadn't been so utterly unexpected. All she could do was shake her head.
 
Useless kid, the mercenary thought at Ryti's lack of response. But well, at least she's compliant and does try to follow instructions. More than I could say for most hired hands, and she's cheaper too.

But shrugging off her companion's lack of a response, Evesa looked back carefully at the bear corpse. "I hate wasting it, but we should move on. Nights in Skyrim are incredibly dangerous, and if we sit here then something worse could attack, like a vampire," she decided, turning away from the dead creature. Without another worse the dark elf set back on the course to Falkreath, fully intending to walk until the morning.

She walked in silence for several hours, with Ryti following close behind. They were quite fortunate in this night, that the stars were bright, the moon was large but not full, and that the wilderness seemed to be quiet. Despite the dangers, Evesa had always enjoyed the peacefulness of the dark night. She trundled along with her companion until the sun began to rise and dawn cracked up into the sky.

"It's just about three more hours of walking before we reach Falkreath. We should be able to have a real breakfast in the inn at that point," she commented. "I'll pay you what I owe you then as well." But the adventurer did pause for a second and take off one of the packs that she wore, procuring two loaves of bread, one for her and one for Ryti. Handing Ryti her loaf, she said, "That should hold you until then. I'm almost out of food too, so it will be a good time to stock up. I still wish we could have skinned that bear last night, but the risk was too high. Besides, there will be plenty of food to buy at the market."
 
Ryti shivered quietly as Evesa spoke of some of the things that crawled in the night. She had heard tales of vampires, both back in Cyrodiil and from the guards on the journey north. They were things of nightmare and darkness, and even the thought that one might come upon them was almost enough to freeze her legs in place. But holding still would gain her nothing, so she imagined that there was a rope tied around her neck, and it bound her to Evesa. When Evesa began to move, Ryti was forced along as well. Had she been the type for chuckling at mental jokes, Ryti would have laughed. She was bound to Evesa by far more than an imaginary rope.

The path rolled out beneath their feet, and Ryti fell into a state of semi-sleep, her mind drifting with the clouds that floated through the sky and occasionally obscured the moon. The weight of the pack pressing down on her was slowly lost, until it almost felt as though she had never weighed any less. For one brief moment she imagined that, when the ropes binding her to the pack fell away and she let the ground take the entirety of the burden, she would simply float away, no longer weighing enough for the ground to hold onto.

Falkreath. The name of the city tasted strange on the inside of her mouth, a bittersweet flavor of hope and fear. Ryti was not one to try and worry about her fate, the simple acts of living and appreciating everything that passed around her was a full-time occupation, but she knew that there was a critical decision to be made in Falkreath. It would, perhaps, be postponed long enough for the two of them to reach Markarth, but that did not change the nature of the decision. Soon enough, Ryti would be free to go her own way, strike out for the sake of her own life. Or she would not. And she was not in a position where she would have any say in the matter.

The dawn was beautiful, though. And Ryti's fate, just like the dawn, was in the hands of Azura. So she took the bread Evesa offered her with a sweet, timid smile, biting into the thick crust and delighting in the sound of it crumbling between her teeth. She chewed for a moment, before her thoughts returned to Falkreath. "What happens once we get there?" she asked, small and sweet.
 
Evesa looked back at her timid companion, quite surprised by the question. The truth was, after Markarth, she wanted to take her companion and prisoner up the mines north of Solitude and get whatever reward money she could for her. But there was no reason to tell her that, and that had not even really been Ryti's question. So she answered the question fairly honestly.

"Well, then I can sell off some of this loot, and we can see if anyone has a horse and or a wagon for sale, though we might have to wait until Markarth to get those things because it's a much larger city. We can relax for a few days, stay at the inn, maybe listen to some mediocre bards. We can also use it as a home base to go hunting and generally take a load off before we begin traveling again," Evesa replied, carefully avoiding the question that she was not very fond of considering, which was what she would do with Ryti at that point. Prisoners were much easier to keep if they did not know they were prisoners.
 
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Ryti watched Evesa mildly, barely even glancing at her new keeper as she spoke. But the hesitation in her voice was very telling. Ryti didn't know anything about Evesa, except for the fact that she was a mercenary, and that she was very practical. When the time came there was very little Ryti would be able to do to protect the money that Evsa had given to her, should the elf wish to take it back. At any point she got tired of the pretense, she would have something very similar to a slave at her disposal.

And if that was what it took, that was the part she would play. Skyrim had hardened Evesa, taught her how to survive in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Ryti didn't know anything of the sort. She was barely able to handle a dagger with any level of comfort, let alone a bow, sword, or even magic. Ryti let out a small shiver at the thought, mixed somewhere between terror and joy. She glanced up at the sky, squinting unconsciously as her eyes expected to meet the bright light of the sun. Magic. How she had dreamed of it.

Pulling herself back from her daydreams, Ryti devoted her thoughts back to her current situation. No, she was not a fighter, and Skyrim required a fighter. But she was a survivor, and she would do whatever it took to continue her own life. If it meant being an almost-slave to a grumpy mercenary, so be it. She would accept it, and work with the same drive with which she always worked.

For now all she did was nod agreeably, doing her best not to let Evesa know that she thought her intentions anything but honest. Ryti had no desire to be tied up again. Hunting sounded fascinating. She had never been able to provide food for herself in the city. Not that there would have been anything to hunt, even if she knew how. But Skyrim, assuming you did not get killed by one of its many dangers, had everything a person would need to survive.

Did Evesa expect her to help hunt? The mercenary hadn't seen her fight, but she knew the end result of Ryti's little quarrel. And although the young half-elf had remained intact, she had not come out of it well, by any means. Ryti had no problem with killing. Death was natural. But that didn't mean she knew how to kill.

"I..." she whispered. "I don't know how to use a bow." For Ryti, the few words she had spoken was practically a torrent. She didn't know from where they were coming.
 
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