Stranded Beyond Hope

Chapter 1: Passage

'You have the gift?' Krystal was awed. She had not thought that any outside of the cerinian people would have the gift of clairvoyance. It was what separated them from the other races on their world, such as the sharpclaws and earthwalkers.

The dragon's broad maw dipped in acknowledgment. 'Indeed young one, that and much more. Your people would not have this ability if not for the dovah. It was our gift to you.' Parthanax could see the curiosity in her eyes. 'That being, now is not the time to discuss this. I would like to return to the mountain, there is much that needs to be done if we are to stop Alduin's Madness and have a chance of getting you back to your own world.'

The pastel golden serpent clambered to his full height and rolled down one of his shoulders, speaking vocally. “Come, we must hurry. Time is against us, already Alduin is on the march. Every moment he is in this world he gains power."

Krystal eyes his proffered shoulder warily. “You want me…to ride you?" While interesting, hurtling through the air on the back of a dragon she had known for all of ten minutes did not appeal to her.

“That is unless you would prefer to walk the forty-three miles to High Hrothgar and then climb the seven thousand steps? I have heard word that the ice trolls are particularly vicious this year."

Krystal hurriedly climbed atop Parthanax's scaled spine and situated herself in-between the spikes of his neck, all without a word.

The dragon chuckled as he began to beat his wings. “I thought you might, hang on tight."

“To wh-?" She began to demand just as the dragon launched himself into the air, the vixen's faint panicked screaming fading into the distance.

Krystal clutched the pair of spikes in front of her for dear life, hugging her bosom to the dragon's scaled hide. Her eyes were tightly synched shut, having no desire to see what the ground looked like from up high. Any attempt to speak was stolen by the fierce winds ripping past her muzzle, threatening to suck the air from her lungs. 'A little warning would have been appreciated!'

She could feel the mirth in the Parthanax's mental response. 'But not nearly as entertaining.'

'I imagined a dragon being more…stoic.'

'I imagined a lady would have more poise. Your…yelp was most vulgar.'

Krystal huffed indignantly, unable to do anything else and choosing to remain silent to the dragons prodding.

Parthanax looked over his shoulder as he flew, taking in the vixen's irate aura and was reminded of her circumstances. 'Forgive me. Sometimes I forget myself….your yelp was truly exceptionally refined.'

As mad as the vixen was, Krystal could not help but giggle. 'Fine…you're forgiven. But I would appreciate it if you were not to tease me.'

'I will do my best to refrain.' Parthanax conceded as he flapped his wings and coasted along a thermal, lapsing into thoughtful silence. As intriguing as this vixen was, he had not forgotten about Alduin.

He had once called that monster brother, and had sown such sorrow as not to be believed by mere mortals. Parthanax had been a stanch follower of the false prophets will for many years, a millennia of service he wished he could have back. In his advanced age, the dragon wondered how it was he could have followed such a beast. But the answer was clear as the midday sun peaking over the horizon.

He had desired the same thing.

Power.

Alduin craved power, even more than a dragon had right to. He would never be satisfied until all of Tamriel bent its knee to him and crowned him as a god. When Parthanax first heard one of Alduin's insane rants, he knew at that moment that he had been mistaken. Alduin was not the champion Parthanax thought he was. This power that he craved was too much. He was Icavarus, trying to challenge the sun. And one day his wings would burn and he would fall.

This was why he had betrayed the one he called brother, taught the people of Tamriel the way of the voice. It was the only means in which they could have stopped him. And now, after an age he had returned to fulfill his black wishes.

There was only one who could hope to stop him. Parthanax knew of the Dragonborn, had felt them enter the world many years ago. Kynareth had come to him on that day, warning of Alduin's revival. But he had been stubborn, believing that he alone could have stopped the dark dragon.

How foolish and prideful he had been…

Even weakened by his recent return, Alduin had been more than a match for him. He was lucky that the fiend had desired for him to bleed to death in the frozen tundra, otherwise he would not be breathing at this very moment.

Only the unintentional arrival of this vixen had stayed his death.

But was it truly chance that sent her here?

If not for her, he would be dead and the Dragonborn would never be made aware of their power. Alduin would have sundered this world.

Perhaps she had been sent here to help alter the tides of destiny. Perhaps it was all planned by the gods? It seemed too convenient that she happened to end up where she did at the time she did, in the position to save his broken body and aid him in his duty. She was strong, he could feel that much just by looking at her. There was great power dormant inside her. She could be instrumental in defeating the evil dragon.

The gods did indeed work in mysterious ways.

'Parthanax…what is this world like? All I have seen so far is snow and ice.'

The dragon hummed, thoughts shifting. 'I suppose you would need to know if you are to be prepared. I have no desire to speak of the extensive history of Tamriel. It is long, convoluted and each race will bicker of what is true and what is false. I will however, tell of the land we are in…Skyrim. It is a hard place, filled with men, mer, and beastfolk alike. War is no stranger to these lands; much blood has been spilt on these frozen steppes and plains, enough to fill a great sea. The Atmorans were the first men to come to Skyrim. In short time, they made war with the Snow Elves, seizing this land by arrow and blade. Since then many battles have been fought and will continue to be fought, as this civil war promises. The empire, the main fount of humanity, has made grudging peace with the Aldemari Dominion in order to save their power. This threw Skyrim into upheaval and paved the way for the Stormcloaks and their rebellion, thus concluding the current state of affairs.'

The vixen's head was buzzing with all the new vocabulary.

Parthanax, sensing this, began to explain in more detail. 'The race of men is the most prominent in Tamriel, mer coming in close second. Both are closely related, although neither would ever willingly admit the fact. I imagine they will look strange to your eyes, you will see of what I speak once we arrive at High Hrothgar. There is one who will help you, Arngeir, my most trusted pupil. He will explain the world in greater detail. I must go back to the peak of the mountain and reflect.'

'Reflect?'

'Yes, my defeat at Alduin's claws has reminded me of an old flaw I thought faded with time. I must confront this part of myself if I am to be of use when the Dragonborn comes to speak with me.' Parthanax was afraid that he would revert to his old arrogant ways. He had worked hard to atone for the sins of his past and change himself.

Krystal was uncertain at the prospect of the dragon leaving. She had already lost her home; she did not want to lose the only thing she knew here.

'Do not fret little fox. My pupils we see that you are well cared for and I will remain in contact with you through the use of our conjoined clairvoyant powers. I will be able to speak with you, from anywhere in Skyrim.'

'Okay….' That was relieving to hear.

'We will speak on this in greater detail at a later date for we have arrived. Open your eyes young one, the throat of the world is a sight few get to experience on the back of a dragon.'

Krystal steadied her breathing and forced her eyes open. As she laid them on the frosted peak of the immense mountain, she found all her fears laid to provisional rest at the grandiose sight standing high in front of her.

'It's breathtaking!'

Faint grey mist hugged tight to the cragged summits of the snowy mount and the light from the golden sun glinted of its unyielding spires. Such a magnificent pinnacle of rock could have only been sculpted by the hands of a god.

'Indeed, after the war and Alduin's defeat I came here to mediate in an effort to come to terms with all I had done. I found its peak to be the finest place to contemplate my decisions in life. If you sit upon the very top of the mountain you will experience such a silence as you will never find anywhere else in all of Tamriel. So quiet all you will hear is the sound of your body and the harmony of the world. I found my peace here, instituted my order on it.'

'Such a serene place….' Krystal found the beautiful sight soothing, and could feel herself relax. Her sharp eyes spotting a structure under the peak, a grand formation of stone and mortar, 'is that High Hrothgar?'

'Correct young fox, the monastery where my pupils practice the way of the voice. It's not a place of comfort, but of thought. Mayhaps you will reap the benefits during your stay.  I will set down in the courtyard and speak with Arngeir. Stay close for the moment.'

The pale gold dragon tilted into a shallow dive and gently glided down to the wide yard at the rear end of the monastery. As they neared, Krystal could pick out four figures standing by the doors.

With a tremor, Parthanax landed next to an arch with a path leading up to the mountain's summit. The dragon leaned forwards, allowing Krystal to slip off to the cobbled ground. The vixen stamped her hindpaws to get her blood flowing and puffed hot air from her lungs into her palms, rubbing her paws together for warmth as she watched one of the robed figures approach the dragon.

He was a curious looking fellow, mostly absent of fur with a thick greying bush hanging from his flat face. She could tell he was old by the winkles in his pale skin and she noticed a pair of rounded ears on the sides of his head.

The man stopped in front of the dragon and bowed, glancing briefly at the stranger standing beside his master. “Master, you have returned. Are you in good health?" He inquired worriedly as he took in the serpents healing wounds.

His voice was wizened with age and experience, painfully reminding Krystal of Varaduke.

“I will live, made possible by her efforts." The dragon dipped his scaled snout in the vixen's direction. “Alduin would have surely been my end if not for her."

The robed man turned to Krystal and bowed humbly. “You have my gratitude stranger. Parthanax is the soul of our order. And his passing would have been an irrecoverable blow. What is your name?"

“I am Krystal of Cerinia, daughter of King Randorn and Queen Vera." She curtsied, a part of her ingrained manners.

“A princess…? Where is this Cerinia, I have never heard of this kingdom, nor have I seen the likes of you before."

“A conversation for another time, Arngeir. We have much more pressing matters to attend to." Parthanax cut in with a rumble.

“Of course, master." The man lowered his hooded head in acknowledgment.

“I have failed to stop Alduin, the world eater has returned. We must halt his reign before it begins."

“What hope do we have without the Dragonborn? They have denied our summons."

Parthanax recoiled. “Denied?"

“Shortly after you departure a week hence we felt the Dragonborn attain their first shout and summoned them to High Hrothgar. Yet it has been seven days and they have not appeared. I have heard that they are in Whiterun and did indeed hear the summons. However, they have dained to ignore it." Frustration leaked from the man's tone.

The dragon shook his bulky snout slowly. “This is an ill omen. If the Dragonborn will not answer the call, Alduin cannot be defeated."

Krystal flicked her agitated tail and grimly held onto her staff. From what she had gathered, her only hope of returning home lied with this Dragonborn. If they would not fight, she would be stuck here on this world indefinitely.

With a sigh, Parthanax continued. “Very well, there is not much we can do about this in my weakened state I have not the strength to search for them. Arngeir…."

He looked up.

 “Master…?"

“Lady Krystal is in need of refuge. She is far from her home with little chance of returning. Give her a room in the monastery and treat her as you would I. She is ignorant of this world, teach her. I must retreat to the peak. If the Dragonborn does come, send them to me after the trials." The dragon turned and began to plod up the path. “I pray to Akatosh that they do."

Soon, Parthanax vanished into the blizzard spinning about the mountain, leaving Krystal standing next to the robed Greybeard.

The vixen shivered and hugged herself, deeply affected by the cold. Even her thick coat of fur could not keep the bitter chill from her bones.

“Krystal…is it?"

She turned to the Greybeard. “Yes?"

“If you would come with me we can get you out of this cold and perhaps speak in greater detail. I am most curious." He gestured for her to follow and slowly headed for the other three figures and the great doors leading into the monastery.

Krystal nodded and gave one last glance to the snowstorm the dragon had disappeared into before following.

*****

The inside of the abbey was surprisingly spacious, a huge plot in the center with a pair of branching corridors to either side. Large braziers providing light and warmth, something she was especially appreciative of.

As she studied her new temporary home, Arngeir led her to the center of the monastery and began to introduce her to the other three members of his order. “These are masters, Borri, Einarth, and Wulfgar."

“H-hello..." She greeted shyly, unnerved by their odd appearance and silent stares.

“Ah yes, they cannot speak with you. They have trained and studied with the voice for so long that to speak to one without the same power would destroy them, utterly."

Krystal meaped and nodded weakly. “I…see. Why don't you do that…destroying thing?"

“I am the order's facilitator for the people below the mountain. It would be unwise if we could not communicate with the rest of the world." He replied with a faint grin.

That made sense.

Arngeir looked to his associates and motioned with a respectful nod. “You may go back to your meditation."

The three dispersed and Arngeir turned to Krystal. “I will show you where you will be staying."

She followed the master down the left corridor to the very end where a short staircase led to a sealed room.

Arngeir walked up the steps and pushed the door open, speaking as he did so. “This was originally a store room, but it should serve as decent accommodations. It needs a little cleaning but I am afraid it was the only other room available."

Krystal entered and looked around. It wasn't so bad, just needed some work. There were a few empty shelves and chests, but beside that it was in good condition. Sure it was not what she was used to, but she couldn't have everything. At this point she would be glad to just have a place to sleep. The vixen was tired, sore, and still more than a little cold.

“You look like you need rest. I will return with some bedding you can use and we can speak more on the morrow." Arngeir ducked out of the room and Krystal listened as his footsteps faded into the distance.

Now alone, the vixen slumped her shoulders and sighed. 'I guess this is my life now. I'm probably never going to go home am I?' Krystal took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. 'I'll just have to make the best of it!'

Looking around, she sat on one of the chests and crossed her legs, soothingly petting her tail. She prayed that she had enough strength to see her through this. But most of all, she wished she didn't feel so alone. She hated the feeling of segregation, of not belonging.

With a sigh, she propped her muzzle up with a paw and gazed at the barren stone wall in front of her, studying the lattice of cracks in the ancient mortar. 'What do I do now?'

She had no answer.

*****

Krystal sat with her furred legs crossed underneath her and her staff balanced in her lap. The vixen took deep repetitive breaths and focused on clearing her mind of thought. Arngeir had recommended that she meditate, that it would help her ease into everything. At first she had rejected his idea as pointless, but after trying for the first time a week ago, she was starting to see the merits in his suggestion.

It has been a week since she came to the monastery on the top of the massive mountain; much of that time had been spent talking with Arngeir. He was the only one she could effectively communicate with. The other masters were polite and courtesy to her, but could not be much more than that.

In those seven days, he had told her much of the outside world. She had been warned that her appearance may result in discrimination from some of the more bigoted inhabitants of the world, a concept that was foreign to her. Her world was free of racial tension, all beings similar enough in appearance to warrant it pointless. All she could think of was the tensions between the saurians. They have come to blows many times in the past, often having to have the Cerinian Kingdom intervene before further bloodshed occurred.

She had also learned that magic was just as prominent here as back home if not more so. It was a common manifestation and many had the ability in one way or another, something different from Cerinia where only those in high standings could afford to learn the arts. Thankfully she was able to perform her magic here. She might have need of it at some point if the local discontent she had been told of was true.

It was somewhat heartening to hear that she would not be the only furred individual on the continent. Many of these khajiit she had heard of apparently lived as wandering merchants. They were felines, like the people who lived in the desert far away from the borders of her father's kingdom. Perhaps she would be able to make friends with some of them and she would not feel quite so alone.

Then there were the argonians, a race of reptiles much like the sharpclaws, but far less prone to violence from what Arngeir explained to her. She had been shocked to hear that a race of foxes called the lilmothiit had once existed but had not been seen in an age. She was curious to know if they were in any way connected to her own people but Arngeir had no answer to offer. Perhaps she should consult Parthanax? He was sure to know more.

Krystal had conversed with the dragon a few times but he was mostly preoccupied with whatever he was doing at the top of the mountain to speak for very long. She did not want to continue to inconvenience the great serpent and so she tried not to talk with him too much.

The vixen laughed softly.

Her thoughts were not very clear at the moment were they? With a sigh she opened her eyes and stood up. Maybe when her mind was more settled she could continue. For now she had some more questions for Arngeir.

She did not want to stay stranded up on the mountain. She wanted to go out there and make something of herself. Staying here only sought to continuously remind her of what she had lost. The vixen knew she sounded a little foolish, but she needed to see the world she had ended up in. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad here. She knew the Greybeards could hear her at night, crying into her pillow.

They had been nothing but kind to her, giving her a safe place to stay and teaching her of the world in which she now resided, but she was only a burden and the only way she would truly understand the world was to see it with her own eyes.

She turned to find Arngeir and was surprised to see him already there, standing just outside the doorway to her room.

“I had a feeling that you might wish to speak with me."

Krystal nodded and smiled softly. He always seemed to be nearby when she had questions. “I will never understand how you do that."

The old man chuckled. “No. I am afraid you won't." He entered her room and sat on the chest closest to the left wall. “Tell me, what is it you wish to speak about?"

Krystal closed her eyes and inhaled. “I want to leave." Exhaling heavily, she opened her eyes and looked to Arngeir.

The robed man nodded. “Yes, I had a feeling you would wish to set out, sooner than I expected however. But no matter, we are not holding you here. If you wish to leave no one will stop you."

She smiled gratefully.  “Thank you, for everything." If not for them and Parthanax she did not know where she would be at this moment, probably frozen under a pile of snow she could safely assume.

“No thanks are needed young fox. It was the least we could do after you helped our master. I only wish there was more assistance we could offer."

“You have done more than enough."

The Greybeard hummed. “Perhaps…perhaps not, there might be one last thing I can do."

Krystal's ears perked curiously. “What?"

“It will be hard for you here. You have no connections and no one to help you outside these walls. Nor do you have any currency in which to procure supplies."

The vixen's ears drooped at that announcement.

“However…" Arngeir raised a finger. “I can be of some help in that regard. There is a man in Whiterun, a close friend of mine, one Kodlak Whitemane. I will write a missive for you to give him. He is the leader of the Companions. No doubt you remember them from one of our previous discussions."

She did, they were a group of influential and honorable warriors, around since the times of Ysgramor. She had quite a bit of this world's history memorized by now.

Krystal considered it, she did have martial training but she wasn't sure if that was the type she wanted to get involved with. She tended to lean more towards defensive strategies rather than aggression and glory seeking. And she had never really had to fight for her life. Still, she didn't really have the option of being picky. She would take what she got.

“Kodlak will take you in, give you a place to stay and you will be able to make some coin as well. It'll be dangerous work, but better than nothing. When do you wish to leave?"

“Tomorrow." She declared firmly.

“That is soon indeed. It will be hard going, climbing down the mountain, and quite a ways to Whiterun, at least a day's journey on foot. It will be even harder considering that you do not know the lay of the land. I will scrounge up a map from the archives, which should help you. I will also see that Wulfgar prepares some provisions, enough for a few days. I suggest you take the rest of the day to rest and organize yourself. Tomorrow will test your endurance." Arngeir turned and left, leaving Krystal to her thoughts.

The vixen set her staff down beside her rough cot and leaned back against the woolen mat. 'Tomorrow….' She turned to her side and pressed her muzzle against her pillow. 'Tomorrow will be a new day.'

She only hoped she had the strength to see it through.

*****

Krystal stood outside the door to High Hrothgar, her mostly exposed body wrapped up in a thick cloak to preserve against the cold. She held her staff in her right paw and a light satchel of supplies was slung across her left shoulder.

Arngeir stood to her side and held out a small rolled up scroll. “Take this and show it to Kodlak. It will explain all he needs to know."

Krystal took the scroll in her padded grip and placed it into the bag on her shoulder. “Thank you again, for everything."

“No problem young one, may your journey to Whiterun be a safe one. Master Borri has walked the path. It is safe for you to travel down. No ice trolls or frost wraiths shall bother you and the wolves have left with them. All you must endure is the cold and the steps themselves. At the end of the stairs you will arrive at a small town called Ivarstead, loop around it to the left and you will find the road that will take you to Whiterun. Do not trust anyone on the path and do not stray far from it. There are giant camps close by. They are peaceful by nature, just don't threaten them or their mammoths and you will be fine. Stay clear of the towers as well, those are breeding pits for bandits and their ilk."

Krystal shook uncertainty and steadied her grip on her staff. The world sounded so dangerous, how was she supposed to make it on her own? What if she came across bandits? Or stumbled onto a giant?

“I know you are probably feeling frightened now but I know you are a strong individual, not many could have adapted to what you are experiencing. A trip such as this will be easy. It is what comes afterwards that will prove to be most challenging. Stay true to yourself and you will be fine. Remember, if you need help we will be up here."

He was right, she would be fine. All she had to do was stay strong. “Farewell Arngeir."

“Till we meet again, Krystal of Cerinia, may the light of Akatosh shine upon you." The Greybeard bowed and turned, opening the large metal door to the abbey and closing it softly behind him.

Krystal wrapped her cloak tighter and stepped down the small flight of stairs to the snowy ground. The vixen stopped on the very first step leading off the mountain and took in the trying task before her.

'Well, here goes nothing.'

*****

Thanks to Arngeir's advice she made it off the mountain and to the path without any trouble, but before she did she briefly stopped at Ivarstead to take a look at what life was like. They all had looked so different, these men and mer came in all manners of shapes and sizes. Cerinians were all mostly the same, with red or orange fur, blue being a rare trait of nobility. It was a simple farming community. She had seen many of its like back home. Krystal had been surprised when the people there had treated her amicably. Sure there had been the occasional stares and questions. But she had not been the freak show she thought they would perceive her as. If any had been weirded out it was herself. They were a strange collection of races. How could such people lacking fur survive in this harsh environment? But as she shivered under her heavy cloak they walked and talked as if the frigid air had no hold over them. These were a hardy people that much she knew.

As the vixen sat at her small campfire just off the road she stoked the fire with a charred stick. She was tired from her recent exploits, and was ready to call it quits for the day.

Thanks to the map she had been given, she was not lost. The landmarks were easy to see and the path was relatively simple to follow. So far she had not come across any bandits or giants, but she did meet a rather odd character, some sort of bard if she recalled. He had offered to sing for her, but she politely declined. Still, he had been a civil individual, even going so far as to helping her keep on track. 

It had been an interesting and rough day, she spending most of it walking along the road. However the place she set up camp afforded a view of the city that was her destination, a massive walled city with a keep sitting above it all. The city could easily be home to thousands and she wondered how she was supposed to find the home of The Companions. Arngeir told her it was close to the keep, a fortress called Dragonsreach. It was a single story structure by the eastern wall by a massive statue. That was the extent of the information she had on it. She could always ask one of the hold's guards for directions.

Krystal leaned towards her bedroll when her sensitive ears detected the sharp sound of a snapping twig. The vixen snatched up her staff that she had left standing up by the fire and held it in a guard position, thinking that bandits were making their approach, intending on making her their next victim. If they thought so they would be in for a rude awakening. A fireball or two ought to show them their error in judgement.

A crackle of fallen leaves brought her attention to the trembling bushes to her left, less than a hundred feet from the fire.

“Show yourself!" She barked, trying to project a calm aura of authority.

The bush ceased its quivering and Krystal held her breath.

Slowly, a feral fox appeared from under the bush and hesitantly made its way to the center of her camp. Its fur was a deep orange, and the whiskers on its muzzle twitched as it scented the air.

Krystal giggled at her overreaction and leaned down, holding out a paw. “Hey little one, I didn't think to see any of my ancestors running around."

The four legged vulpine offered no response as it pattered up to her proffered paw and sniffed at it gently, prodding her padded palm with its wet nose.

Krystal used her other paw to slowly reach into her satchel and pulled out a pawful of dried berries, holding them out for the fox to take. “Here, you are probably a little hungry huh?"

The small fox turned its muzzle to her paw full of treats and quickly meandered over and began to pick away at the selection made available to it.

Crouching beside the friendly animal, Krystal smiled and plopped her rear down, keeping her tail well away from the placid fire behind her. “I don't suppose you know a way back home?"

The fox's ear twitched and it looked up, studying her intently with its auburn eyes.

It sneezed, showering her in a wet mist and sat down, scratching at an ear idly with one of its hindpaws.

Krystal recoiled and wiped at her muzzle. “Ugh yuck, I suppose it was a silly question."

The fox yipped and stood up, running about the camp before settling beside her bed role in small pile. The vixen could have sworn she saw it nod.

Krystal tossed a few more sticks into the fire before she slipped into her bed roll and bundled up for warmth, draping her cloak over her as further protection and snuggling up into the woolen bedding. As she drifted off to sleep, the occasional shiver crawled up her spine when a particularly cold breeze fluttered through. The body heat of one was only barely capable of keeping her warm at night.

*****

In the morning, Krystal had been surprised to see that the fox was still there. The small vulpine had wormed its way into her blankets and was sleeping contently atop her breast, muzzle drooped over her neck. She took note that she was not cold when she awoke but rather warm, and that the fox must have been the reason.

“Thank you little one." She patted the fox on its furred head, waking it up. The small creature slipped out of the bedding and shook itself roughly before trotting off into the forest. Just before it disappeared, the fox looked back and flicked its tail, possibly waving goodbye.

She watched the fox depart and sifted through her satchel, pulling out a hunk of jerky to gnaw on and quiet her grumbling belly. Finishing her bland meal, she cleaned up her camp and packed her bag before slipping back onto the road and traveling the rest of the two hour distance to Whiterun.

Up close, the city was grander than she had expected, although the walls crumbled with age. There were a few small buildings outside the tall walls; one with a stable and couple of horses. Krystal had ridden a horse before, but she was certain that she would not be able to get one here. They were probably incredibly expensive. A small crowd was spread across the little village and she spotted a grouping of tents just to the left of the first set of gates.

As she approached, she decided to take a look. The scent she picked up from the tents was not like the others she had smelt. There were hints of sweetness and spice. She stopped by one of the shelters and saw her first khajiit.

The dark grey and black spotted feline sat cross legged just at the entrance of her tent, tail lazily meandering behind her. Sitting in front of the cat was a wide array of items up for sale, candies, farming tools, even weapons. The feline looked up and noticed Krystal, beckoning her over with a friendly grin.

“Welcome, welcome, it is not often that this one sees fellow beastfolk in this cold and unforgiving land." The female's voice was rich and colorful, giving Krystal the image of rolling dunes of sand beneath a warm glowing sun.

The vixen, now even more curious, approached the cat. She had an odd way of speaking.

“Yes, please this one invites you to sit. Let us talk."

Krystal sat down where the cat had suggested, just to the left of the feline's wares.

“What is your name? And where are you from? This one is called Ahkari from Elsweyr." The cat kept her friendly grin as she folded her paws neatly in her lap, leaning close in interest.

“I am Krystal and I am from a place far from here." The vixen dipped her muzzle in greeting, looking around at her surroundings. Although out in the open, it had a homely ambiance, as if she carried her home with her.

“This one is pleased to meet you, Krystal of the long road. This one also wishes to know what brings you to this city, if that is not too much in prying."

Krystal supposed what she was doing was not very secretive. And she was glad to be talking to another female like her. “I have come looking for work. I have a position waiting in the city."

The khajiit hummed softly and rubbed a paw under her furred chin. “This one finds that interesting, not many of our kind can find work in these lands. Many of the people here can be harsh and judgmental, although Ahkari has met some decent folk in her travels."

“I got lucky."

The cat chuckled huskily as her tail patted against the furs scattered about the floor in her tent. “So this one sees!" The feline unraveled her legs and stood up. “Come, you must meet the others."

Not seeing any reason not to, Krystal agreed and followed the cat away from her tent to the center of the camp where three other felines stood.

“This one brings a guest!" Ahkari exclaimed as she approached, grabbing the attention of the others. “This is Krystal, and she comes from the long road." The feline turned to the vixen, gesturing to the others. “This is Zaynabi. She helps this one sell goods. Dro'marash and Kharjo protect the caravan."

“Hello, nice to meet all of you." Krystal lowered her muzzle in greeting.

“What brings you out here to Skyrim?" The other female inquired.

“She has a job, in the city." Ahkari explained.

“That is a rare thing." The one that had been named Kharjo voiced.  “Only in Riften have I heard of beastfolk finding work."

“Let us not speak of that." Ahkari cut it. “There are things much worthier. Please tell us more about yourself, we khajiit are always interested in a story." The feline turned. “Zaynabi, warm up the stew and set out the furs."

In short order, Krystal found herself sitting by a flickering fire with a bowl of soup placed in her paws. She was startled by the khajiits' hospitality and it made her feel welcomed. Something she had desired since she arrived here. She told them an abridged version of her story, how she needed work and a place to stay, finding both in Whiterun.

“This one thanks you for sharing your tale."

Krystal nodded. It had felt good to be able to confide in others, even if she could not speak of everything.

Ahkari set down her empty bowl and rose to her. “This one will only keep you a little longer, come."

Krystal sat up and handed her bowl to Zaynabi, following Ahkari as she returned to her tent. The feline slipped inside and Krystal heard her rummaging around before she returned with something in her paws, which she held out for the vixen to take. “Here, a gift for you. May it help in your travels."

Krystal was speechless, looking to the smiling cat as she took the medallion. It was made of gold and of rare quality if her eyes were correct. Such a thing must cost a fortune. But why would it help her? Did Ahkari want her to pawn it off? If so, she didn't think she would be able to. It was too captivating.

“I…I can't take this."

The cat huffed dismissively, waving her paw as she chuckled deeply. “Do not worry. This one has no need of it any longer. This helped Ahkari in her younger days. It will make you as tough and swift of body as any of our ancestors."

Krystal slipped the medallion around her neck and instantly felt stronger. She was hit with a sudden burst of energy, feeling as if she could run for hours and she had never felt more agile. She was confident she would be able to pass any obstacle. Never had she had something like this. It was truly an amazing gift. “Thank you, I am underserving of your kindness." She mumbled humbly.

The feline smiled. “Stay safe Krystal of the long road, may the sands of Elsweyr guide you in your journey. The caravan will depart soon, but this one will return a week from this moment. Until then…" Ahkari patted Krystal on her shoulder and walked away, heading back to the campfire and her companions.

The vixen watched her leave, a faint longing to follow in her heart but she shook it off. The city is where she needed to be. Thoughtfully running her paw across the medallion, she turned away from the caravan and passed the first gates to take her into the city.

*****

A short walk and a drawbridge later, she stopped in front of a pair of massive oaken doors. A guard stood on either side, faces concealed behind strange conical helmets and wearing bright yellow tabards over their mail.  As she approached the gates, one of the guards stepped up to her.

“State your business." He demanded in a gruff tone and fingered the hilt of his iron sword.

“I-I am supposed to meet someone in the city." She replied softly, intimidated by the heavy-handed guard.

“Really, who in the city would want to meet with one of your kind? What are you? Some sort of dog?" The guard laughed at her expense and took an aggressive step forwards.

Krystal blanched and took a step back, dropping her staff in limp paws. She was frightened and could feel all the happiness she had found since coming here fade away under the violent guard's taunts.

“Torborn, that's enough!" A commanding voice barked and Krystal watched as a mailed hand clamped down on the guard's shoulder and roughly pulled him back, tossing him to the ground.

Krystal warily watched as the other guard approached her, waiting to see if he would prove to be the same.

Instead he reached down and picked up her staff, handing it back to her, speaking in a kind and friendly tenor. “My apologies miss, Torborn can be a fool but he is a good honest nord at heart. He just lets his heart speak before his mind."

As the guard spoke, the other grumblingly picked himself up off the floor and sullenly turned his helmet to the other.

“Isn't that right, Torborn?" The guard demanded with a bite.

Torborn nodded and sighed reluctantly. “Yes, Ragar."

“Apologize to the woman for scaring her." Ragar prompted.

“But Ragar…."

The other guard tightened his grip on his sword's hilt and tilted his helmet. “Yes…?"

Sighing in defeat, Torborn turned to Krystal. “I apologize for alarming you."

“I-It is alright." She stuttered.

“Good, now Torborn, report to the Watch Commander Caius and tell him of your misconduct."

“Yes, sir…" The guard groaned and picked up his fallen shield, entering the city through the small guard door with a slump.

As the door closed, Ragar turned to Krystal. “Now that he has been taken care of, what is the purpose of your visit?"

Krystal smiled thankfully at the kind guard. “I am here to see Kodlak Whitemane. I have a letter for him."

“Kodlak, the harbinger of The Companions?" The guard was shocked. “Then by all means miss, please enter. I am sorry for the troubles, Torborn will be reprimanded. No matter how we may feel about the other races, it is dishonorable to carry that into our work."

She nodded. “Thank you."

The guard returned her nod and stepped towards the gates and rapped on them with a closed fist, moments later there was a dull thump and they began to open.

As she moved towards the opening doors, the guard spoke again. “You will find Jorrvasker straight down the main street and to the left up the stairs to the courtyard. It is a fair distance to walk but you will be fine. Have a pleasant day miss."

Krystal entered the city of Whiterun and was awed by it.

It was a huge bustling settlement with crowds of people going about their day. She noticed that she was the only one with fur here and drew much attention from the crowds. Krystal threw up the hood on her cloak and followed the directions given to her by the kind guard.

Traveling through the large city took a few minutes and before long she was standing in the courtyard she had been told of. There was a giant tree in the center, but it looked withered and sick. A statue was erected in the corner and a robed man was preaching in front of it, yelling about some god called Talos. A set of stairs to her right led up to a mostly wooden building where she could easily detect the sounds of shouts and laughter.

'That must be it.'

Mustering herself, Krystal climbed the steps and walked towards the great hall. The vixen stopped just in front of the oaken doors and raised a paw to knock on them.