A Mage in the Night: A Skyrim Story

The First Encounter

A grey overcast hung over the late morning sky, a twist to the usual shade of grey over cast. Perhaps it was the nature of adaption, but she came to enjoy the cloudy skies of Skyrim. It made everything look more somber, and when the sun did shine, it felt glorious. The day she started to enjoy the grey skies is when she knew she had roamed the wilds of Skyrim for too long.

She came across an imperial encampment just past the Hjaalmarch marshland. The Imperials had many of them scattered throughout the western portion of Skyrim. One could tell an Imperial encampment from a league away due to the quality of organization. Stormcloak encampment's tended to be a disorganized assortment of tents and looked much less polished.

It was always a coin toss as to whether or not an Imperial soldier would treat her with hostility or indifference. Usually it was a combination of both. As she made her way just outside the encampment, she heard a low growl. Not the grumble of a lonely bear, or the snarl of a wolf, but the growl of a lion. It grew louder until an Altmer woman, sitting on top of great senche, appeared before her.

Seeing a senche this far north shocked her since the first time she saw it near Fyaggir. It would be like finding a horker in one of the coral reefs of the Summerset Isles. She had never been able to get a closer look at Lysara, and she did not realize her resplendence. She had a face like a statue with golden hair that flowed elegantly passed her shoulders. A mischievous grin moved across her beautiful face.

"Oh, the serendipity. I was just looking for you," said Lysara.

Aisha's heart rate began to accelerate. The fact she choose to meet her in front of all these soldiers terrified her. She didn't want to fight, and she knew she couldn't outrun a senche even if she tried.

"Your assassins found me. You need better assassins," said Aisha. The senche slowly walked towards her, large drops of drool dripping from its fangs as it growled.

"It's lovely to finally meet you in the flesh. It's been so long since I have met a general thorn in my sides. I have been curious about you ever since you stole the Stalhrim weapons, and, of course, my lexicon. It fascinated me even further when I learned after Snowhawk that you were a Khajiit. How is your friend doing? The Argonian."

"Don't you dare mention him in my presence," growled Aisha.

"You must be in love. If it makes you feel better, he didn't reveal a thing. Kaladalf wanted to just be done with it like that first fellow. I suppose you made sure that didn't come to pass."

"What do you want?" asked Aisha.

"You have something that I seek. You know what is," said Lysara.

Aisha hugged her side, pretending as if she had on her person. She didn't want the Lysara to know the true location.

"You have to specific. My Khajiit mind isn't as clever as a high elf's," said Khajiit.

"I saw what you saw. I know what it can do. It's why I sought the mask out in the first place. You have seen it as well, haven't you? The sheer power of it. The limitless potential that could unleash. Picture, Khajiit, what you can do with that power in your grasp," said Lysara.

She thought of the wealth she could conjure from its objects. She would never have to go hungry again. She wouldn't even need to be a thief again. Subconsciously, a smirk appeared across her face.

"I see the joy in your eyes. I sense a hunger in you that the simple pleasures of the world cannot satiate."

"All would react as I would if they knew the possibilities of the mask," said Aisha.

"That's not true. I have seen more of the world than you, and I have seen men, elves, and even beastfolk of great power who squander their protentional. Many tremble before it, most run away from you. But you, you embrace it. You actively seek it out. Most thieves don't have the affinity for magic as you do."