Chapter 36: Way of the Voice: Part 5:
By the time dust settled, footsteps thudded near me.
Lydia emerged from the haze, cradling her right arm with her left. Her breath was shallow, lips tight with pain. "Are you alright?" she asked.
I nodded slowly, wiping the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. My throat burning like fire.
Uthgerd rose behind her, pushing aside a broken beam with a grunt. She glared at me through the dust. "You should've warned us," she said, coughing.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, my voice hoarse, low and rough.
Both of them turned to look at me, brows knitting in concern.
"What happened to your voice?" Uthgerd asked, limping toward her greatsword half-buried beneath a plank.
I didn't answer.
My gaze dropped to Lydia's arm, where blood dripped steadily from a jagged gash along her forearm. I moved toward her, slowly, and raised a hand, a warm golden glow burst softly from my palm, spreading over her body like sunlight. The wound closed beneath the light, the skin stitching itself together.
Lydia gently rotated her arm, testing it. "Thanks," she murmured.
I gave her a short nod and brought my hand back, hovering it mid-air, intending to cast the spell on myself, but nothing came; I was out of Magicka.
Damn it
I reached into my inventory and withdrew a healing potion. The glass bottle shimmered faintly in the moonlight. I uncorked it and drank it in one mouthful. The taste was metallic, almost like blood. It got to work rather quickly, the warmth spread through my veins, but not nearly strong enough.
"You should wrap a cloth around that," Lydia said, stepping to my side, her voice quieter now. "You're still bleeding, use another potion if you have one."
I looked down, my hand covered in blood, my fingers dripping blood like stalactites.
"It will heal faster," Lydia said from the side, her eyes flickering around the place, when a wardrobe caught her eye, untouched, away from the wreckage, standing in the corner.
She quietly made her way to it.
I drank another potion and tossed one to Uthgerd.
Lydia returned with a torn piece of cloth, probably from a shirt or dress. She took my arm, without asking, not that I cared. Her fingers were cold, careful, soft, not like a soldier's.
"This might sting," she whispered.
I watch her work, eyes narrowed and focused, hair loose around her face. The closeness was not unwelcome.
I quickly shook my head, remembering Irileth's words.
She tightened the cloth with a firm pull, and I sucked in a breath. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I said, half-smirking.
Her lips twitched. "A little."
Our eyes met for a moment. Her skin was pale under the moon, her eyes betraying her complexion like the center of a black hole surrounded by the bending light. Jeez, Irileth.
"Let's get rid of the bodies," a voice came from the side, bringing an end to the moment. Uthgerd.
Lydia tied the knot and backed half a step, "That should hold."
I nodded.
Was it just me? I shook my head and went to work.
One by one, we dragged the corpses to the bridge, heaving them into the river. The current swallowed them whole, drifting them to the edge, and falling from the waterfall.
Afterward, we returned to the lower level. The horses were still there, and I thought they might run away from all the noise. I scratched their necks, bringing them inside the tower, some semblance of shelter for the night, and some safety from the wild. Their breath steamed in the cold air as they settled into place, hooves clacking lightly against the stone.
***
We headed toward the second tower, where the base room held nothing but dust-coated barrels and an old wooden rack with a few rusted tools beside the stone stairs.
The first floor was a surprise; a proper alchemy table sat nestled in the far corner, tucked beside a wooden shelf. Clearly wasted on the bandits who'd take up residence here.
A chest rested beneath the wooden stairs leading upward. I moved ahead, my boots thudding softly on the stone, and motioned to the two behind me. "Look around. See if there's something worthwhile."
Lydia knelt beside the shelf while Uthgerd rifled through a cabinet that creaked with every touch. We found little. Some moldy bread, a drum with its skin still intact, a few books, nothing worth taking.
The chest was empty. I closed it with a sigh.
We moved to the second floor. This one was partially open to the night—half of it exposed to the moonlight, and the other half was a room, protected by a slanted wooden roof that sagged with age. A double bed, surprisingly clean, sat in the center, flanked by two plain tables.
I turned to them. Uthgerd's face was drawn, her movements slower. Lydia, however, remained alert, her hand resting casually on the hilt of her sword.
"You two rest," I said, nodding toward the bed. "I'll keep watch."
Lydia looked at me like she wanted to argue, her brows pulling together.
"I'll wake you when it's time," I added before she could speak.
She gave a hesitant nod, eyes lingering on mine longer than usual.
I ascended the wooden post attached to the side, reaching the uppermost lookout—a pretty spacious platform with a table and a chair in the corner, and two dead bodies.
I removed their armor, storing it in the inventory like I did with others, and tossed them off into the water, letting the pool of blood dry on the wooden floor.
A few minutes passed as I stared ahead at the smoke rising in the distance, a short climb up the mountain, a Giant's camp. Guldon Rock.
Hmm, I muttered, Not the best place for rest, eh?
"Do you expect us to sleep in this?" Uthgerd's voice cut through the silence, bringing me out of my thoughts.
I turned.
She stood there in full armor, her arms spread in disbelief. Lydia stood just behind her, equally still and silent.
A look of realization crossed my face.
"Right," I muttered.
I stepped forward and placed a hand on Uthgerd's shoulder. In a shimmer of light, the armor vanished, replaced by simple clothes she had stored in her bag, now resting in my inventory. I did the same for Lydia, whose expression remained unreadable, her steel plate sighted into her travel tunic and leggings.
They look good in normal clothing, I thought, looking at the two
Both women stood unmoving for a moment.
I tilted my head."What?"
Uthgerd's brow arched, and she stepped forward. "Alright. What is that? That… thing you do. The gear. The vanishing. Are you some kind of mage?" she paused. "Wait, no. I've seen mages. They can't do that."
I smirked but didn't answer.
She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, come on. You're just going to not explain that? You can conjure swords, shields, armor, food, books, and probably a house if you wanted to, and you can't say how?"
I remained silent for a moment, "I can't conjure a house." I said, I think? I wondered internally.
Uthgerd huffed and crossed her arms. "Fine. Keep your secrets," she muttered, "But don't think I won't keep asking."
Her eyes drifted to the river below, and then shifted, lifting to look at the second tower across it. "Then," she turned back to me, "What about that shout? I've fought alongside Nords, Elves, and even Argonians. But I've never seen someone do that."
Lydia remained quiet behind her, but her eyes flicked to me.
I sighed and leaned against the rail. My voice came out low, "I.. I don't know." I said, I still needed to act the part of an oblivious MC.
"The Jarl Balgruuf said, I'm what the Nordic myth says, a Dragonborn."
She stared at me, mouth slightly open.
"So the dragon…" she asked slowly. "You absorbed its power?"
I nodded once.
She exhaled, muttering something I didn't catch. "I thought that was just a story. An old myth. Nobody's really seen a Dragonborn in—gods know how long."
"Well," I said, "you're looking at one."
She took a step back trying to process. Lydia, meanwhile, didn't look surprised; she knew from the beginning, but there was still doubt in her eyes.
Uthgerd looked between us, and then back at me. "And where exactly are we heading?"
Lydia and I stared at her for a beat.
"You finally want to know that, huh?" I muttered, she was too eager to travel with us, that she hadn't even asked us where we were going.
She nodded, slowly, glancing at Lydia as if hoping she'd fill in the gap.
Lydia just stared.
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "We're heading to High Hrothgar," I said. "The Greybeards have summoned me."
Uthgerd's face paled, and any doubt that was still lingering in her head vanished.
"The Greybeards," she echoed.
.
.
.
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