My breath steamed as it mingled with the crisp, frigid air, almost similar to smoke as it curled and crept outwards, stretching thinner and thinner, eventually dissipating entirely. Since my departure from Ivarstead, the climate was, unsurprisingly, grew much chillier as I drew closer to my destination. The fact that the month of Frostfall was close to coming to an end only amplified this change.

Almost unconsciously, I wrapped my cloak around myself tightly, attempting to warm up a bit as I continued my trek northwards. Currently, the path I traveled was very rough and barely even visible. Sparse, browned grass had sprouted up across sizable areas of the dusty, neglected broken-up stone path, making it more and more challenging to discern which way actually led towards Winterhold. I had gone off the beaten path a few times already, but, for the most part, I had been able to get back on the road relatively easily—although I attributed part of that to sheer luck, as there were times where the road had seemed to disappear entirely under grass and the occasional wildflower or scraggly shrub.

Despite the trouble that particular aspect of my journey had been causing me, for the most part, the weather had been rather cooperative. Although some days had been rather overcast, I had not been forced to deal with rain or snowfall just yet, which was some small blessing. The wildlife had given me a bit of trouble, but I had not yet come across anything I hadn't been able to handle from a safe distance away.

So far, the worst part of my journey was what many would consider to be a respite—sleep. I had done my best to avoid falling prey to my fatigue, but every now and then, my resolve slipped and I was treated to whatever new horrors Vaermina had concocted in her bizarre attempts to coerce me into giving in to her will. The last dreams had been particularly horrible, many of them centering around the death of Nightbrook. Clearly, some Daedra had no qualms about taking cheap shots at their victims if they feel it a more effective way to get what they want.

She's just toying with me. She fully expects me to give in; she thinks she can break me with something as stupid and baseless as dreams, and she's enjoying every minute of this. But I'm not that easily broken! There's too much at stake for me to give up, ever! "If you're going to try and scare me into doing your will, Vaermina, you're going to have to try a lot harder than this!" I declared, realizing only afterwards and to my slight mortification that I'd said the last bit aloud.

Stupid. Why did I do that? That was very, very, stupid. ... I'm going to be paying for that somehow, aren't I? Just great.

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, I forced myself to focus only on the road ahead, wondering briefly just how far along I was in my journey. I had been following what I could only assume was the White River for a little over a day now. Despite the season, it was moving just as quickly as ever, making the thought of attempting to cross it by foot seem impossible and foolhardy. The waters were a dark shade of ultramarine, making for quite the contrast with the currently grey, muted sky; a deep blue jewel set against the dull, dead browns and off-greens of the earth around it, the only thing pulsing with life and energy for what seemed like miles around. Had times been less bleak, I would have appreciated its unique beauty, but I barely spared it an appraising glance before pulling out my map for reference.

It took me a minute to find where I was on the map, but, from the looks of things, I was still a good deal away from any bridges. To my frustration, there was only one bridge near Whiterun drawn on it, anyways, and it would probably take me yet another day to reach it. Well, there are a lot of things out there that aren't on this map. Maybe another bridge is one such thing, I mused, putting the currently useless thing away as I continued down the road.

It was then that I became aware of a rumbling sound in the distance. Despite how muted it was, I was on alert as I continued to move at a quick, even pace, not allowing my sight to settle on any one thing while I searched for the source of the noise. As I moved, the once barely audible sound crescendoed into a watery roar, and it was at this time I found myself walking alongside a small, squat waterfall.

Several meters beyond it lay something of far more interest and use to me: a bridge across. The structure itself seemed quite old, and, judging by the kind of stone used and the geometric, backbone-like protrusion from the middle of the bridge, it had been crafted by the Ancient Nordic peoples. The bridge was supported on both sides of the river by two towers, joining with the second floor levels of each and providing what looked like a relatively safe passageway across.

However, it was far from abandoned, as I caught a glimpse of two distant figures patrolling the overpass. In front of the entrance to the tower on 'my' side of the river, I could clearly see a woman dressed in fur armor standing next to a cooking pot, clearly in the process of making some soup or stew. They seemed an awful lot like bandits to me, but I did not plan to attack them unless they made an aggressive move towards me first, in the case that they weren't what they seemed. I made my way over to her casually, my face neutral and stance passive despite the unease I felt. Somehow, it didn't seem likely that I would be crossing over that bridge unless everyone on it was dead.

The woman looked up from her cooking at my approach, an unpleasant grin coming to her face as she stood to her full height. She walked over to meet me, a hand resting on the hilt of her longsword. "Hey! You've gotta pay a toll to cross our road... say, a two-hundred septim toll. So give me the money, or scram."

With that statement, there was no doubt in my mind that I was definitely interacting with a bandit. Now that I knew this, I had no qualms about attacking them.

"Thanks for the offer. I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I'm not planning on going down this road, anyways," I replied, "But you're in my way nonetheless. I mean to cross the river."

"The bridge's off limits. And you're not getting anywhere from here unless you pay up."

"That's not going to happen."

"Fair enough... Tell you what. You start running so I can stab you in the back."

The only response the woman received regarding that statement was a crossbow bolt to the throat. Her sword only half drawn, the woman dropped to her knees, a handscrabbling ineffectively at the fatal wound. Her wide eyes met mine, fraughtwith fear and surprise as a choked, gurgling moan slipped from her lips.

Aalthough the sight would have once been enough to make me sick, I forced myself to focus on reloading Nightbrook's—or, as it was now, my—crossbow before falling into a defensive position, cautiously walking to the entrance of the first tower. Internally, I was relieved I'd been able to draw and fire the contraption as quickly as I did, and I owed that skill to the practice I'd had with it under the mer's supervision while on High Hrothgar. Looks like I owe him twofold... Fat lot of good that will do him now, I sighed, returning my focus to eliminating anyone who stood between me and the other side of the river.

Hoping that none of the other bandits were yet aware of the death of one of their own, I ducked into the tower, crouching as I gave the room a critical once-over. To my immediate right was a set of stone steps, and directly in front of me was a crudely fashioned end table, a dented tin lantern with a flickering, half-spent candle in it resting just slightly off center. The only thing of any interest in the room happened to be a locked chest, but, considering both my current circumstances and the poorly concealed swinging mace trap that had been suspended directly above it, trying to get into it was not worth the time or effort. Besides, I was a traveler, not a looter, and it was bad enough I was having to kill people just to cross a gods-damned bridge.

Although no one came into my area of sight upon my entry of the tower, I stayed put for a few minutes, trying to listen for creaking floorboards, whistling, or any other signs that there was someone else guarding the upper levels of the tower. When I was satisfied that the next level of the structure was not occupied, I slowly made my way up the flight of ancient steps, tensed and ready for combat just in case I had been wrong. To my relief, there wasn't anyone there. The second floor seemed to have been repurposed as a storage room of sorts, as barrels lined the walls and filled up the back of the chamber, and a braid of garlic and some dried elves' ear hung off of an exposed beam of wood supporting the old structure. The 'renovations' these bandits made aren't half bad—if they're the ones who did this work in the first place. Wouldn't surprise me if someone else lived here first, I pondered briefly, edging towards the doorless exit out onto the bridge.

However, as I got nearer to my destination, the sounds of approaching footsteps greeted me. I flattened myself against the wall, holding my breath in anticipation as I preemptively aimed my crossbow at the opening. Willing myself not to move, I heard whomever had been coming my way stop. There were a few beats of dead silence before I heard them mutter to themselves in a gravelly, deep voice most common to Orsimer, "Hmph. Maybe I was just hearing things."

As I heard them begin to walk back towards the center of the bridge, I took that time to act, moving away from the wall and sneaking over to the entryway with my weapon readied. My target had their back to me. Considering the pace at which they were moving, I had a decent window of opportunity with which I could make my shot. Before I took aim and fired, however, a specific technique Melisande had mentioned within the pages of her journal popped into my head, making me pause as I considered whether or not to try it out for myself.

To temporarily imbue an object with element-based destructive potential, you must start by drawing from your magicka reserves, but, rather than allowing the energy you generate to surround yourself when casting a typical spell, you must instead project that energy onto the desired item with clear focus and intent.

I ensured that my thoughts were focused on the tip of the bolt as I called upon my powers, my eyes widening in surprise as the typical buzzing feeling of casting suddenly dissipated. A few seconds later, the crossbow bolt began to hum and shimmer with purplish white electric energy.

Despite concentrating your destructive potential elsewhere, you will still be very much in control of how much damage and the range of damage that results from this makeshift enchantment, but the greater you make either of those variables, the higher drain there will be on your own magicka reserves, as is the case with the majority of other destruction spells. But, with no added draining, you may wait for any time to activate it, although you will be hard pressed to cast anything else while your own field of energy is absent.

With the now 'enchanted' bolt in my weapon, I took aim at my rather hard-to-miss target and quickly let the projectile fly. It hit the bandit at the base of his right shoulder. He let out an exclamation of shock and pain, turning around sharply as he fumbled for the mace at his belt.

When the time comes to activate the object, all you need to do is to channel your desired spell into it and allow it to take effect.

And then, I acted, pouring a considerable amount of magicka into the item, deciding upon the Chain Lightning spell as I'd seen two bandits patrolling the bridge. With a blinding flash, the bolt sparked to life, electrocuting the looter before he knew what had hit him. As he fell twitching to the ground, the thin, arcing beams of electricity moved on to his compatriot, a male Nord, rendering him lifeless only a few seconds later.

Once you are satisfied with the function of the object, simply relinquish your focus from it, and your magicka-based energy will center upon you once again. If the object is destroyed during the release of the spell, then your center of energy will refocus to you automatically.

With the bandits on the bridge now being quite dead, I allowed my focus on the bolt to dissipate, and felt the familiar hum of magic return to my being. I... Can't believe that actually worked... I thought to myself, standing in place dumbly for a few moments.

I realized my mouth had opened slightly in awe. I closed it, my cheeks coloring slightly as I got a move on, purposefully avoiding looking at the bodies of the men I had just killed. I wished that their deaths hadn't been necessary, but I'd been given no alternative, and time was running out. The longer I took getting to Winterhold, the more time the Forsworn would have to become more powerful and more organized. That was the last thing the people of Skyrim—and I—needed right now.

As I reached the center of the bridge, I happened to glance to my right, where the relatively small waterfall was situated. I paused briefly, the breath leaving me as I took in the beautiful view, almost in awe. While a part of me raged over this distraction, the foamy falls were clear and bright despite the lack of sunlight, cascading over jagged rocks and racing to meet up with the rest of the river once again in a gorgeous, raging cacophony. It would be an understatement to call it mesmerizing. I stood there for a few moments, anchored in place by a force unknown to me.

The sound of an arrow snapping against one of the stone supports of the bridge's canopy shook me out of my reverie. I looked around wildly for my assailant. no one else was currently on the bridge or the second floor of the adjacent tower—at least, from what I could see.

Knowing I didn't have enough time to reload my crossbow, thin purplish sparks crackling to life and flickered in agitation around my free hand just as I caught sight of the bowman who had just attempted to take me out. They were positioned atop the second tower, another arrow already fitted to their bow as they attempted to correct their aim, turning themselves more towards me. I sent a singular bolt of lightning their way. Although it came near to missing them, it managed to graze their side. My attacker dropped their weapon with an exclamation of pain, automatically clasping a hand to their side.

I wasted no time crossing the remainder of the overpass while the archer was down, knowing I'd have a better chance of finishing them off at a closer range, if such a thing was even necessary. Maybe there's a way out of this tower without having to go all the way up there, and I could sneak out without further incident?

Pleasantly enough, upon reaching the interior of the second tower, I found that there was a ground level exit on the floor I emerged on. I all but bolted out of it, barely able to keep myself from running haphazardly out into the open in my haste to get away from this glorified bandit camp. Luckily, the looter that I'd wounded had either been too badly injured to or had enough sense not to attack me again. I was perfectly contented with following the adjacent dirt pathway to get as far out of the reach of the towers quickly as possible, even if it did take me a bit off-course from my final destination. 

To my dismay, I discovered that the dirt path I had been following ended at the top of a relatively steep incline, leaving me wondering whether I should try to navigate my way through Skyrim's actual wilderness, or if I should go back through the bridge and stick to the main road, as convoluted and relatively unreliable as it was. But there are still living bandits back there... I don't particularly like the idea of having to kill anyone else, especially when there is a viable option to act otherwise. Even off-roading, I'll probably get to my destination roughly around the same time I would if I stuck to a previously established path.

I took a deep breath, turning to face north, taking in the vast, craggy terrain of the relatively small mountains I'd just stumbled upon. I can do this, I thought, attempting to boost the relatively small and fragile amount of confidence I currently had on the matter. Besides, I'm sure I'll stumble across another path like this, and, with any luck, it'll lead me back to the main road, or at least somewhere I can use as a point of reference.

Emboldened by that vein of reasoning, I began my journey into the unknown. However, I changed my course from north to west rather quickly when I discovered that there was an alternate way to get through this area without having to actually go further upwards. After taking a quick glance at my map, it seemed that, if I moved in a relatively straight line westwards, I'd meet up with a major road on the outskirts of Whiterun's capital city, which would certainly be convenient—not to mention that it would also save me the trouble of having to take extra precautions against freezing to death. Such things would likely entail having to stop and light fires every now and then for warmth, which were incredibly inconvenient for a wide number of reasons. Provided I managed not to run into any highwaymen or wild animals, it would likely also be a very short detour.

As I trekked across the rocky plateau, I noticed that the clouds that had gathered earlier in the day had darkened somewhat, stretching across the sky in a multi-toned patchwork of grey. It was clear that either rain or snow was not too far off, but I wasn't going to stop to try and locate a place to wait it out until the weather actually got 'bad'; it would be a complete waste of time to try and wait out a storm that could very easily just blow over. Even if it did happen, I would rather try to get as far along as possible while the weather was relatively pleasant.

A lone sparrowhawk circled lazily below the darkening sky, likely searching for its next meal, although, as far as I could tell, it was the only other living being in my immediate vicinity. I found the lack of wildlife more than a bit odd. I'd gotten accustomed to seeing rabbits dash across my path or the telltale orange-red flash of a fox disappearing into nearby undergrowth in my previous travels. A sense of unease settled over me at this revelation about the unnatural silence, and I began to sense something giving off a sinister energy in the area. It was a sensation difficult to put into words, one most comparable to the feeling one gets when entering a ruin or other structure long abandoned by man, only to have it prove to have inhabitants of an unnatural sort. The bizarre, acrid sensation of unlife assailed my senses, although I couldn't quite figure out why.

By complete chance, I suddenly came across another dirt path, this one picking up almost randomly in the underbrush and leading off towards a construct in the near distance, one looking akin to a fort. That's odd... what's this doing all the way out here? I mused, wondering just what purpose it served and whose control it was under.

Considering I had no part or preference in Skyrim's civil war, there was a possibility that I might be able to get some sort of assistance from those dwelling within it. I nixed this idea shortly afterwards, however, as, upon getting closer to the fort, I realized the that it was the primary source of my unease—and for good reason. A chill ran through my blood as I caught sight of a human skeleton patrolling the outskirts of the run-down stone building, an ancient, rusted iron sword in its grasp as it scoured the hillside for potential intruders.

Why in Oblivion—Oh, gods, there aren't any living soldiers in that thing, are there? I thought, a nauseated feeling arising in my gut as I thought about what might have befallen the previous residents of the tower. Well, it's more than obvious that this place has been overtaken by dead—and necromancers, possibly. I need to get out of here before that... that thing notices me.

I looked around for a way to get past the site without alerting the undead sentry, briefly panicking when there seemed to be no other option than to go right through the fort if I wanted to keep moving in this direction. Just as I was beginning to think that I would have to turn back for the second time that day, my eyes suddenly landed upon a small crevasse not too far away from where I was standing. There was a craggy outcropping of stone  shielding a small, snow-dusted 'pathway' of sorts from the view of any who might be in the fort. Seizing the opportunity, I dashed towards it as quickly as I dared, almost forgetting to breathe until I reached the relative safety of its shadows.

That's one catastrophe avoided, I mused, a ghost of a smile appearing on my face as I resumed a more casual pace. 

The remainder of the day passed by relatively uneventfully—although there hadn't been much more daylight left to begin with—, and, after my chance encounter with the 'haunted' fortress, I came across no other signs of humanity, though, thankfully, my sightings of random wildlife returned to a more natural frequency. Now that I had time to myself to think, I could not help but notice how different it was to be undertaking my journey alone—earlier on, the emptiness I had been feeling had been easy to ignore or to write off as grief over a dear friend's passing, but it ran deeper than that. I had become so accustomed to keeping pleasant company over the course of my journey that going without it seemed almost unbearable. Despite the fact I had started off to Winterhold in much of the same way that I was traveling now, having experienced the joys of traveling with friends and then losing their company made the prolonged, lonely silences and lack of human interaction all the more painfully obvious. I don't know how much longer I can do this. I'm not even to Winterhold yet, but it's getting to the point that I wish I'd never left home.

I started at this mutinous thought, although I was more surprised by the truthfulness of it than anything else, No. Thinking about what could have been isn't going to help any, and even if I had not gotten involved in major affairs like this, the world would likely still be in as horrible of a state as it is now.

I let out a dispirited sigh as, rather suddenly, exhaustion hit me with all the force of a boulder. I was so, so tired of all of this, and it likely showed in every aspect of my being. I had a responsibility to see to it that my friend's death was not in vain, and to stop my brother no matter the cost, but how was I supposed to do all of that in the state I was in? And as it had been more than a few days since I had last slept, I knew what was more than likely to come in the very, very near future, and I had good cause to fear and avoid it. The thought of Vaermina re-established some of my previous resolve through rekindling my ire towards her, and I decided that, despite my current exhaustion, I was not going to give her even a chance to torment me tonight. I'm not yours, I'll never serve you, you're a soulless monster but for once you won't get everything you want because I will do everything I can to screw up whatever vile plans you're crafting-

Suddenly, I felt myself become weightless, yet, oddly enough, I began to sink towards the ground, as if my body had decided to shut down of its own accord. Before I could so much as think of a reaction to this, my eyelids closed, my body rebelling against its stubborn yet flagging consciousness, leaving my subconscious at the mercy of a merciless god.

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I can say freely that our next chapter will comprise of some fabulous nightmare fuel, which I may or may not be having way too much fun writing. It's definitely giving my powers of description a run for their money, but with any luck it should turn out well enough. And there may or may not be a ton of subtle foreshadowing in it. Just warning you ahead of time. 

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QUESTIONS:

Question (From Callwarrior to Helgír): If you could alter one thing, that has happened since you met Helvia (apart from nightbrooks death)what would it be?

Answer (By Helgír): That's... a very difficult question, actually. I do wish that I had been honest with Helvia from the start, but I didn't know if I could really trust her with any personal information at the time. I feel that it had some effect on the interactions between us afterwards, and not of the positive kind. But what's done is done, and there's no use in contemplating what might have been.

Question (From PineWatch to Helgír): Are you really going to leave Helvia by herself? Or are you going to turn around and go with her? I hear the Mage College needs a ruin cleared out. :)

Answer (By Helgír): I do wish I could accompany her, but I've put off my duties to Skyrim for long enough. And I know she'll be able to fend for herself. I wouldn't have said that about the naive but well-intentioned girl I first met in the Reach, but I can say that about her with full confidence now.  

Question (Sort of; from DIESELCOSTA to Nightbrook): not really a question but to Nightbrook I miss you man

Answer (By Nightbrook): I appreciate the sentiment. And, although I probably shouldn't say it, plans for a story detailing my past adventures in Cyrodiil are currently being made, as well as a couple of ideas for future one-shots. So I suppose you could say my role in this particular series isn't fully over.

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If anyone has any more questions for anyone in Mage, feel free to ask them! If they've appeared in Mage at all, regardless of how long they were a part of the story, they're open to ask questions!

Well, as always, please do leave a vote and/or comment if you enjoyed the chapter, and see you next time! Good adventuring, dear readers!

-AA