Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
The Arrival of Itzel Elderwood
The howling of the wind in the night and the sudden jolt of branches slamming on the window is what startled Vilreni awake. Pouring rain which crashed in loud thuds on the roof of their wooden home made her unable to fall back asleep. The dunmer woman groggily pulled herself upward with great strain. Her body had still not recovered completely from recently giving birth and she sighed heavily, knowing she would experience yet again another dark night void of rest. A bright strike of lightning illuminated the room from the far window allowing her violet eyes to detect the single wax candlestick resting near her bedside. With a trembling hand, she reached for the metal dish and brought the candle toward her chest. It was well used and short in length with a large hardened waxy pool beneath it. She thought to herself that she ought to head into town in the morning to purchase a few more candlesticks. Gods know they have had nothing but storms and endless black nights during these winter months.
Vilreni squinted in the darkness and brought the candle up close. She raised her hand and pinched her long fingers together, face furrowed in concentration. Out of the dark, a faint fiery light emits from her fingertips and she elongates her index finger toward the candlewick. The wick catches alight and the scent of fire and wax fill her nose.
This time the lightning strikes boldly followed by a thunderous boom. Vilreni stands up and hurries toward the door, nearly tripping over her table of herbs and magical arrangements in the process. As soon as she steps into the hallway, she can hear her child from upstairs. The sound of her newborn crying fills the home. This was a terrible night for Rideria to be asleep on her own. She would bring her downstairs and keep her close tonight. And with that thought, she holds her little flame up high and makes her way to the living room drawing nearer toward the entrance of the stairs. Walking alone these nights always gave Vilreni the chills. She had seen enough in her life to know that nothing good happens after midnight. The old and worn wooden floors creaked eerily beneath her feet but they proved firm against her own movements. Was she trembling? An ominous feeling begins to take her when…
THUD!
Vilreni stops dead in her tracks, the candle nearly falling to the floor. Her heart beats out of her own chest and her pointed ears perk up even more. It can’t be. Was that… the front door? Surely, no reasonable soul could be-
THUD, THUD, THUD!
The frightened mother’s mind immediately panics. At this incredibly late hour and in this treacherous storm, the thought of someone KNOCKING at her front door was unfathomable. She turns around abruptly and approaches the entrance apprehensively.
THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.
Fear grips her hard now. Her shaky hands place the candlestick on a wooden table and she clenches both fists hard as they start to consume with heat. Flames alight and engulf her palms. She swallows hard as sweat drips onto her nightgown. She is a mother and she will protect her own. She is a mother.
THUD. THUD. THUD. BOOM!
With newfound motherly courage, she finally confronts the ruckus head on. The thunderous rage outside seems a distant rumble against the incessant and aggressive knocking.
“WHO GOES THERE?” Vilreni croaks, mustering all the courage she has into her voice.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Vilreni gulps and thinks. Perhaps, the violence of the elements outside are washing out her voice. She tries again, but louder this time. Her projection must have carried over better because the knocking halts. Rideria’s whines from upstairs are noticeable again and Vilreni starts to come back to her senses. Why should she open the door, anyway? Her adventuring days were over and now her only concern should be her daughter. Maybe it would be better to-.
“IT’S ROLOOR!”
The voice surprises her, interrupting her anxious thoughts. Vilreni takes a moment to remember. Yes… Roloor. She recognizes the name and the voice. She breathes a long sigh of relief and lowers her hands. The flames die out just as fast as they had initially appeared. She waits a moment for her hand to cool before reaching for the door knob. Then, she opens it swiftly fully expecting to see a familiar face. Instead, her eyes behold a concerning sight. Roloor, hooded, cloaked, and soaked is hunched over on the ground.
“Inside, hurry!” She beckons and helps the weakened man to his feet. She relieves him from the heavy weight of his sword as the man escapes the rain and stumbles into the living room. He carefully places his belongings onto the table and then the nord finds sanctuary in a large floral green upholstered chair.
Before she can part her lips, he speaks “I- I’m fine. Just.. need to catch my breath.” Vilreni rushes to the kitchen, sparking flames from her hands in multiple directions and lighting wall sconces around the room. Now lit, she pours water from the basin into a round glass and offers it to the cloaked figure before her. She only notices how distraught the nord appears when Roloor finally removes his hood to drink. He closes his dark and baggy eyes as he savors every last drop of water.
Vilreni remains quiet and watches him. He looked noticeably older but then again she did too. His once golden hair had lost some color but she wondered by the expression on his face if he had lost something of his former lighthearted self as well. She had heard of the troubles of Skyrim, his homeland, even from the far corners of her side of the world.
She allows her magic flames to ignite the fireplace near the two of them. They bask in the soothing sounds of crackling wood. She moves to refill his glass and once done so, she leaves Roloor for a moment and heads up the timeworn stairs to check on Rideria. After finding her daughter safe, she marches back down and finds Roloor standing and peering up at her. He was a childhood friend of her husbands and she had not seen him for many years. Roloor and his wife had spent countless summers with the dunmer pair. But before she can demand an explanation, he speaks.
“Where’s Adrias?” he huffs. The dunmer lowers her gaze and releases a long breath. Her lips purse together sorrowfully as she attempts to find the words. Roloor had always been a good listener. And most of all, observant. The prolonged silence speaks for itself and the large man seats himself slowly back into the chair. “So,” he continues sadly, “His sickness finally got hold of him, huh? What a shame…I’m sorry Vilreni.”
Fond memories as well as sadness consume her. The grief was too near to her to speak openly of it. After some time passes, Vilreni responds softly, “Thank you. He passed peacefully surrounded by family and friends. That’s what matters. You..were a good friend to him. I haven’t seen you in a very long time. You scared me half to death-”
“It’s important,” Roloor interrupted.
“At this hour and in your state, I would hope so.”
“I don’t have much time. They’re after me.” The fair haired man choked on his words. He had always been a strong and realistic man, quiet in nature.
“Who’s after you?” Vilreni had never seen him so disturbed and emotional. Regaining his composure, he reaches for his items on the table and retrieves a large piece covered in a thin blanket. Alast, he unveiled the cloth to reveal a deep wicker basket. Peering over the object, disbelief befalls the woman. A wide eyed and quiet babe lay on a blanketed cushion within.
“Yours?” Her hand clasped to her mouth. “And where is Vibelia?” It was only then that she thought to ask news of her friend. Roloor’s wife and her had grown close in the years they had spent together. The nord pair had been married longer than her and Adrias and she knew how badly they had tried for a child in times past. She had many questions.
“Yes, our daughter. About a year old. She’s in danger. I had a speech planned but-,” Roloor paused as he brought his baby into his arms. “I had hoped I could speak with both you and Adrias. Can you look after her? It would only be for a short while.”
“What kind of danger is she in? And what of Vibelia, where is she?”
“She’s…lost,” answered Roloor solemnly, almost as if he couldn’t admit it to himself. Vilreni remained quiet, concern and sorrow painted now vividly on her. Even if years had passed, she still cared deeply for her bosmer friend. Vibelia was like a sister.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered genuinely. “But what do you mean by lost?”
The nord moved lazily toward her, holding up and offering his daughter. Vilreni accepted the infant into her arms who lay silent yet awake. Bright hazel eyes greeted her own. She wondered how such a child could appear so calm given the storm and whatever ordeal she suspected they had gone through.
“The more you know, the more danger you are in. I can’t say much else. Please, just take her for a few weeks. I’ll return by spring.”
“Of course,” Vilreni responded. “But you can’t expect me not to have questions. You barge in here after…”
“Seven years.”
“Yes,” she paused. “That’s about right. After seven years you come to me in the middle of the night with a child and expect me to take her without more explanation? I understand you say you’re in danger and I believe you but why not leave her with her family in Skyrim? Isn’t Vibelia’s brother-”
“Dead,” he cut her off. “All dead. The people looking for me got their hands on the family first.” Vilreni’s eyes widened, stunned. All dead?
“I know you have questions. I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t think this was the safest place for her. She can’t be in Skyrim right now. Right now, she’s in danger. Last I wrote to Adrias, he had told me you were with child yourself.”
“Yes, she’s upstairs. Naught but a month ago Rideria was born,” Vilreni began slowly. That’s correct. As a mother herself now, she understood the fear that Roloor felt even if she didn’t understand the reasoning behind it. “I understand Roloor. But I fear for you and this danger you do not mention.”
The nord exhaled as he retrieved his daughter back into the comfort of his arms, “You’re far from Skyrim out here. Surrounded by woods in a small village not many know of. Also, you’re one of the most gifted mages I’ve met in my travels. I know she’ll be safe with you. You’re also… the only friend I can rely on right now. I’ve traveled far and thought long about this decision. Like I said, I should return in a few weeks.”
Vilreni’s violet eyes glanced from nord to baby girl. She blinked and nodded slowly. Her body language was of acceptance. She understood that the answers to her questions could wait for Roloor’s safe return. And perhaps he was right, it might be too dangerous to know more. Afterall, she had not only herself to protect now but two young babes.
“Thank you,” Roloor bowed. Knowing that she would be safe for at least a short while was enough. “Rideria is a beautiful name by the way.”
Vilreni tilted her head and gave out a long but hearty sigh. She smiled at the ground knowing the mess she was getting herself into. She did not have many nord friends but she knew Roloor well enough to know that he was a man of truth and self-sufficiency. He would not have taken these measures if there was another way.
All that aside though, she knew that her heart could not refuse such a request. Protecting another, let alone a child, was second nature to her.
Roloor looked fondly at his daughter now, “Her name’s Itzel.” With that, he retired to his chair - a look of both great sadness and relief enveloping him as he gently cradled the small being that he knew he would give everything and anything to. “Vibelia and I argued a lot over it. She was dead set on choosing a name not of Tamriel, but of the world of men far away. Stories of their land reaches even Valenwood these days.”
The fireplace drew him into a trance of deep thought and he spoke more of her name origins before frequent yawns slowed him down. Vilreni knew that more conversation could happen after a solid night’s rest. While he helped himself to more water and leftover bread, Vilreni quickly prepared the guest bedroom upstairs and moved her own daughter back down to her own room downstairs. Roloor trudged up the staircase into what may have been a first comfortable place to sleep in a long while. He and his little one lay to rest for what he himself knew would be their last night together for a long while. Weary from travel and worry, he succumbed to a deep and well deserved sleep.
The rain stopped pouring and came to a gentle shower by sunrise. After sleeping until nearly late morning, Roloor awoke and helped himself to a simple but much appreciated breakfast. The pair spoke of better times which brought back fond memories. He told his dunmer friend of his daughter’s favorite foods and what she liked and disliked. It was the first time since last night that she had seen some light return to him along with some resemblance of his former peaceful self. After the better part of an hour, he let himself finally prepare for the journey that lay ahead. The sun was high overhead now and Vilreni made sure to give him plenty of water and food for the road. She was generous enough to even give Adrias’s old clothes and leather boots to him since he had clearly needed to replace his own.
Roloor bid his friend farewell with a long and grateful hug. There were no words he could find that could provide a proper thanks to this service. Then, he left without looking back into the forest beyond.
The warm breeze and blooming of flowers that come with Spring came to pass, but Roloor did not return. The dunmer mother prayed to the Gods for his safety but her hope withered like flora during snow season the more time that passed. The summer was spent taking care of both Rideria and Itzel, her fondness growing deeper and the routine of handling both children more manageable. She wondered what she would do if her friend did not come back.
It wasn’t until winter that she received word of Roloor in the form of a letter dropped off by a courier. She ran fast into the house and lit the candle in her study. Then, she opened it, uncaring of how dirty her hands were from gardening all afternoon.
Vilreni,
Thank you for taking care of Itzel for so long. I regret to inform you that I must leave her in your care a bit longer. In truth, I do not know when I will return. For her safety, I urge you to keep her close. Maybe one day I can take her back to Skyrim but word of her existence and location should be kept secret for now. You are one of the very few that know her name. Every day, I think of her and miss her dearly. I promise to do everything in my power to return soon. Please give both her and Rideria (or was it Riveria?) a kiss for me. Do not bother writing back, for I myself do not know where I will be in these upcoming weeks. Should anything happen to me, tell her I love her more than life itself.
Thanks for everything, Roloor.
That was the first and last letter she had ever received from Roloor. Months transformed into years and the little nord-bosmer girl became as much a daughter to Vilreni as her own. She never would know what happened to her nord friend and she did often wonder what became of Roloor. More frightening, she remained unaware of the kind of danger that haunted him and Itzel. Still, Vilreni had promised herself that she’d protect Itzel from an unknown terror for the rest of her life. She pondered often of that stormy winter night because within it, she had lost a friend… yet gained a daughter.