A Mage in the Night: A Skyrim Story

A Drifter in the Night

She awoke in a daze. Her whole body ached, every breath an agonizing ordeal. The stench of rotten eggs, a vapor from the nearby geyser, wafted in the air. Much of the cargo laid on top her from her spot in the back of the cart. She looked upwards toward the sky. Ribbons of bright green light danced across the starry sky as Secunda and Masser glowed a brilliant white. She remembered sunlight, a cool wind blowing in her face, until everything faded to black.

She adjusted her vision to accommodate the darkness, seeing the destruction that lay before her. Ushar and Reema were crushed, their broken limbs contorted in every direction. Khasar's cuirass pressed into his torso, like an imprint from squeezing a lump of wet clay. A giant laid on the ground near them with Khasar's blade stuck through his throat. A great ugly beast with long gangly legs and a scraggly beard, it's corpse stared blankly into the night sky with soulless eyes white as milk. She closed the eyes' of her traveling companions, "May you roam the warm sands in the great beyond."

Aisha had been traveling with them to Riften, paying what few septims she had to provide safe passage through the perils of Eastmarch. They were a small caravan run by Ushar and Reema. They were good for each other. Ushar always found ways to pawn chintzy items to Nords, and Reema always thought out plans for acquiring goods and routes to travel. Aisha would hear their giggles into the night whenever they camped. Khasar, who won his steel armor from a Nord in a duel, protected the caravan from stray bandits.

They all were heading to Riften after a decree from Laila Law-giver that allowed Khajiit the right to live and work within the city walls. Some say an armored Khajit saved her life when bandits attacked her procession on a tour through her realm. Aisha had suspicions about this story, but she didn't particularly care for the truth of it. She wanted to stay in the comfort and security of city walls. Her current situation vindicated that sentiment.

The giant attack came out of nowhere. Aisha remembered the thunderous sound of his footsteps, his gurgled roar. But everything else became a blur before fading to black. By some twist of fate, the gods had spared her. Now she had to make the journey to Riften on her own. She kneeled to the ground and winced in pain.

Aisha knew of a healing spell that her mother taught her when she was still a cub. She visualized the spell in her mind, and pressed her hands to her chest, causing a bright yellow light to emanate around her claws and body. The pain started to slowly disappear as the spell coursed through her body, causing her fur to perk up. She breathed slowly, each breath no longer feeling labored.

Her ears perked up at the sound of broken twigs. She looked behind her to find a bandit, dressed in simple furs, with a large mace in his right hand.

"There are too many of your kind around here, cat. I can't wait to make a cloak out of you," said the bandit.

This one has heard that insult from every smoothskin in this wasteland. Flames erupted through her clenched fingers, like a roaring fire on a pile of fresh logs.

Cat....