* * * * *

When they finally got home to their huge but decaying estate, she uncurled herself out from her coat and hopped out of the carriage, stretching. She’d be glad for a warm bath and a snack, too. She wouldn’t be able to relax, though, until her grandmother had said her piece. She shuffled into the house, behind her grandmother, hoping that maybe if she was quiet and didn’t say anything, she’d go easy on her.

With the huge doors sealed tight behind them, they unravelled from their outerwear, Eydva huffing softly, pushing her copper hair from her eyes. She pushed it behind her ears and turned to face her grandmother, biting her lip, but squaring her shoulders. She could be strong!  “ You will have to take care of all your things yourself.  Your latest escapade has cost us our remaining servants. I had to let them go.”  This was a bit of shock to Eydva, but not unsurprising.  Not that anyone her grandmother had hired had ever been nice to her, but there were at least other people in their immense home.  Now it would be just two of them alone in its shadowy halls. She was suddenly chilled all over again.

“Eydva…” her grandmother started. It was surprisingly gentle sounding, quite soft-spoken for her grandmother. Eydva looked at her curiously, watching her with a discerning eye. This was new. “I’m sending you away,” she said finally, after looking at Eydva watching her. “To Morthal. There is a teacher there that I think will be able to help you,” she continued. She sat down with a soft groan at the large table in the dining area of the main room. “Her name his Lami, and she teaches alchemy,” she finished.

Eydva’s face cracked into a wide, toothy grin. “Grandmama!” she said excitedly, her face blushing with excitement. The freckles across her cheeks and nose popped with color. “Oh, thank you!” she sat down next to her grandmother, leaning into her gently. This was quite unexpected, certainly after how she’d been booted from the last school. “Are you honest?” she asked her, making sure it wasn’t some cruel joke. But even her grandmother wasn’t that heartless, was she?

“Don’t be ridiculous, child,” her grandmother scoffed. “I want you to wash all your things, repack, and be ready to head out in the morning,” she finished. And with that, she got up, making her way to sit by the hearth. She bent to rekindle the fire, and nothing more was said.

“Thank you!” Eydva repeated again, dashing back outside to get her bags from the carriage. She slung the heaviest bag over her shoulder and hooked the rest around her arms, and ran back inside, shivering slightly.

“You’ll be needing this,” her grandmother called softly to her over the crackling of the fire that had finally been stoked. She had set a book on the edge of the table, the golden words on the cover glimmering softly in the dancing flames.

Eydva dropped her bags and come over to the table, looking down at the book. She reached for it, eyes wide. “Herbalist's Guide to Skyrim…” she read aloud, her fingers running lightly across the embossed lettering. She took the book and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you!’ she said, once more. She went back over to her grandmother and bent to kiss her on the forehead.

Her grandmother made a face and gently pulled away. “And make dinner when you’ve got your things soaking,” her grandmother directed. Clearly the discussion was over.

“Of course,” Eydva said, tucking the book under her arm. She gathered her things up and disappeared into the small laundry room off the side of the kitchen. With one hand doing laundry, and the other holding to the book up so she could read, she probably started her washing more quickly than she’d ever done before. With everything soaking, she wandered back into the kitchen, where she prepared dinner, of course, one-handedly. It was an enthralling read. She’d read about alchemy before, had even practised it many times. But there was nothing quite like reading the words directly from a book penned by someone in the field.

“Grandmama, did you know potions of invisibility can be made with the wings of a luna moth?” Eydva asked her grandmother, looking back at her with a smudge of flour on her cheek.

Her grandmother simply grunted in response, and Eydva was too happy to even care.

She couldn’t wait to finish dinner so she could go see Staanovaar, to tell him her exciting news. He would be so happy to hear it. He was always supportive of her, even being her test subject when she came to him with questionable potions or tinctures. One time she had even turned all his hair white! Thankfully, that had been a short-lived potion.

She set the book down only to eat dinner, even though they shared their meal in silence. And even though she kept worrying her grandmother would turn to her and say she’d changed her mind, she never did. When dinner had finished, Eydva promptly set to clearing the dishes away and getting them washed. When that had been done, she went back to the laundry to finish her washing. The soaking was done, now all she needed done was a good scrubbing, a rinsing, a wringing, and to hang them up to finish drying. All of this she did with lightening speed. She had never been a fan of doing laundry, but with the speed she was doing them now, you would have never guessed.

“Suppose I should have sent you off for alchemy lessons sooner?” Her grandmother asked from the doorway, gingerly holding a steaming cup between her hands. “If that’s what it takes to get you moving,” she added, somewhat bemused. She sipped her tea carefully. “When you're finished here, you’re going to see that boy, aren’t you?”

Eydva, blushing, looked at her, and nodded nearly imperceptibly. “He’s my best friend, grandmother…” she said softly. “He always--”

Her grandmother cut her off with a hand. “Don’t get into any trouble,” she said simply, and with that, she shuffled off back toward the hearth again to continue warming herself.

Eydva bit her lip, looking down at the sopping wet shirt in her hands. She wouldn’t get into trouble, not this time, anyway. She hadn’t been able to prepare any potions for him to test, but… she shook her head. Why did grandmother care? She wondered to herself as she quickly finished the wash.

When she had gotten everything squared away, she went back into the main room of the house, reaching for her coat. She slipped it on, bundling up to her chin. The cream colored fur surrounded her face, a shade similar to her own pale skin. Her cheeks were tinged a light pink, a mix of the cold and thinking about Staanovaar…

“Grandmama… I’m going out now,” she said, bending to make sure her boots were laced tightly. It was a bit of a trek getting to his house, but it was one she was familiar with, she could probably make the trip blindfolded. Her grandmother simply grunted from the chair she’d nestled herself into. Most likely she’d be fast asleep when Eydva returned.

Eyvda pulled her hood on tighter and stepped outside. It was a particularly bitter day today, and she was was hoping that the wind would die down before her trip home, so she wouldn’t have to face it head on. She put a hand up to her eyes, shielding them as she looked up at the sun. She should be able to make it there and back before it got too dark.

About a half and hour later, or so, she arrived at Staanovaar’s residence, where he lived with his father, mother, and three older sisters. Their house was about the same size and Eydva’s, but much livelier and far more welcoming. She kicked the excess snow off her boots and approached the door, pushing it open. She jumped back suddenly as a furry blur flew passed her and out the gap in the doorway.

“Oh, you’ve done it now, Eydva!” a voice called. It was one of Staanovaar’s sisters, looking at her from the kitchen. “We’ve just got him inside, too…” she continued, clucking her tongue.

“I’m sorry, Viggy…” Eydva said, looking back behind her. The cat was gone.

She made a face. “You know I hate when you call me that!” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s Vigrine, you pile of scrib jelly,” she teased, grinning now. “If you’re after Staan, he’s out back,” she continued.

Eydva grinned. “Thanks,” she said. “And I’ll get Sala back inside, don’t worry,” she added, turning back to go through the door. She pulled her hood back up and headed back outside, around the side of the house, then towards the back.

As she rounded the corner, she could hear the methodical, rhythmic clunk of wood being chopped. Eydva stopped at the edge of the house and watched Staanovaar, leaning casually against the side of it, her lip subconsciously finding its way into her mouth to be bitten. His bulky coat had been discarded next to the pile of chopped wood, and he was wearing nothing but a thin white undershirt and his pants, held up with suspenders, crossing over his brawny shoulders and sinewy back. She could see his clothes were soaked through with sweat, and he practically glistened in the sparkling winter sun.

She watched him this way for some time, marvelling at his efficiency, at how simple and easy he made this task seem. Although she chopped the wood for herself and her grandmother, and she was no weakling by any means, it was still an impressive feat. She idly wondered if he’d always been so strong, of it was a trait that she had just recently discovered…

Eydva pushed away from the house and strode towards Staanovaar, pulling her hood down from around her face. “Hey you!” she called, grinning as he turned back to look at her. Her heart jumped in her chest when he returned the smile to her, his eyes crinkling in the corners. It was such a warm smile, honest, transparent.

“Eydva!” he cried happily, resting the axe upon his shoulder, wiping sweat from his brow with the other hand. “Home already?” he teased. It was his favorite line to use on her when she’d been sent home from yet another school. Didn’t matter if she’d been gone two weeks or three months. He was still grinning.

Eyvda blushed. “Hey, be nice,” she teased him back, even though she was still grinning herself. “But I have better news this time,” she said, as she stopped in front of him, looking up into his big, beautiful eyes. They were twinkling.

“You caught someone on fire?” Staanovaar asked, raising a brow.

Eydva slapped his arm. “Not this time!” she chided him, huffing. Her breath puffed out between them in little fluffy clouds. “I guess you don’t want to know…” she continued, turning her back to him, pretending to be deeply interested in a rabbit that was snuffling around in a nearby bush.

“Aw, come on,” he said, setting the axe down to rest against the stump, the rabbit dashing away. He walked in a circle around her to find her front. But as he turned, so did she, so that they never came face to face. Staanovaar grinned. “You know you’ll never win this game,” he warned her.

Eydva turned to look at him, her tongue sticking out at him playfully. “And what would I win if I did?” she asked him, arms crossing in front of her.

“Ah…” Staanovaar looked thoughtful. “I’d chop your wood for a month!” he said, grinning once more.

Eydva’s face fell slightly. She felt guilty, suddenly, that she was leaving him again. And so soon, too. “That’s the thing…” she said, as she saw Staan’s face reflecting her own inner turmoil. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and her’s too, amplified ten times over.

“What do you mean?” Staan asked, reaching to take the sleeve of his friend’s coat carefully between his enormous fingers. This was the routine, he knew it by now-- she’d come, and she’d go, and come home again, but… something seemed different this time. “Tell me,” he said softly.

Eydva smiled gently, a little sadly. “Grandmama is sending me away again,” she said, smiling a bit bigger now. Even though she was sad to be leaving so soon, the fact remained that she was excited to finally start down the path she knew she belonged on.

“There’s something else,” Staan said flatly.

Eydva nodded. “I leave tomorrow,” she said. “Buuut…!” she added, cutting off his sounds of protest. Last time she’d been home for only two weeks, but now… only a day?? It was truly unfair.

“I’m not going to a Magicka school,” she said, hoping to quickly allay his distress. “Grandmama found an alchemist for me to train under!” she added, her grin coming out in full force now, her tinges of sadness pushed down, even as she tried to ignore Staan’s face, the way it went from happy to sad, then back again, as she saw him working it through.

“No joking?” he asked finally, letting go of her coat sleeve.

Eydva grinned. “I wondered the same thing,” she admitted. “But so far, it seems to be true…” she added, moving to sit down on the stump Staan’s last log had been occupying before he’d hewn it in half. “I suppose I won’t know for sure until I get to Morthal and find my teacher. Grandmama says her name his Lami,” she said, looking down at the her feet, digging into the powdery snow. “Once I’ve apprenticed under her long enough, and passed some testing, there may be a chance for me to go to school… to a real alchemy school!”

Staan crouched down beside her, looking up into her face. He looked somewhat solemn, but she could see his eyes twinkling, same as ever. “Promise me you won’t find some handsome Morthal boy to befriend there?” he asked her.

Eydva blushed deeply, turning her face away from his gaze. “I…” she said, shaking her head. She knew he was only teasing her, but the thought of finding someone else to fill Staan’s boots was all but heartbreaking, and a terrifying thought. “I won’t!” she not only assured him, but herself, as well.

Staan got back up, grunting from the effort, then held his hand out to her, grinning. “Come inside and have some warmed spiced matze before you go, at least?” he asked her. “Besides, my sisters and mother will be unhappy if you left without saying goodbye,” he added, helping her up from the stump.

Eydva swallowed the lump in her throat, and only nodded, letting Staan lead her through the yard and then through back door, hand in hand.

* * * * *

Tenth of Sun’s Height, 2E 576

Dearest Staan,

It’s been one month since I’ve left home and come to Morthal. My teacher told me that ties to my past only served me as a distraction, which his why she forbade me from writing to you, and to grandmother. She’s been gone for a few days now on an urgent business trip, so I’ve snuck into her study and pilfered a piece of parchment and a quill.

I know that I only have barely a month left in my training before I’m tested, and sent to the next tier of learning. I’m already beyond this level, far beyond… but I’ve hid my talents. It wouldn’t do well to seem cocky, even though I find it baffling that there exists a single person that wouldn’t be able to comprehend this basic level of alchemical knowledge…

It’s so drab and boring here by myself. Lami is a bitter old woman who wants nothing to do with me before or after lessons. I’m her only student currently, and I’m left to my own devices, stuck in a tiny…. I suppose you could call it a room, though it’s more of a closet (and outside it’s just disgusting swamplands…). The most interesting thing I’ve heard so far is about the legend of the Pale Lady. It’s mostly a tale from the mouths of drunks, but it’s a pretty good one. When I come home, I’d love to tell you about it.

Your beloved,

Eydva

* * * * *

Seventeenth of Last Seed, 2E 576

Staanovaar,

Things have finally picked up a little bit! I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that I passed my exam with flying colors. So much, in fact, that I was able to jump ahead an entire tier. Lami had been so impressed that she had trained a pupil so well, but I didn’t have to heart to tell her that was probably the furthest thing from the truth, and it wasn’t worth the argument. Better to let her have that victory so I could move on with my life.

I’m in Whiterun now, I’ve made a few friends here, finally-- I’m not the only student. While the school is small and houses only one alchemy teacher, it’s a huge step up from the swampy mess of Morthal and the singular “company” known as Lami. Even though things are quite strict here, and everyone runs a tight ship, it’s better than being alone. Nobody here likes pranks, though...

The school sits in what his known at the Cloud District. As you can imagine, it gets its name from its location, sitting high atop a bluff, the tallest building practically scrapes the bottom of the clouds. It’s actually quite beautiful, unlike anything we have at home. I think you would like it a lot, Staan.

Please, write me back this time. I’d love to hear how things are going at home.

Your dearest friend,

Eydva

* * * * *

First of Frostfall, 2E 576

Staanovaar,

Why aren’t you writing me back? Are you jealous that I haven’t come home yet? Grandmother wrote me back saying she’s been making sure my letters got to you, delivering them by hand. I know it must be hard on her to travel to your home, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t let her hard work go amiss. And anyway, I miss you. Even if it’s just your handwriting.

I’m sorry that I haven’t been writing you as much, I’ve been quite busy. Even though I’m at the top of the class (would you expect anything less?), I’ve still got a lot to learn, and every day I’m gaining new knowledge.

Do you remember when you took that potion I made that was supposed to let you see in the dark for an hour, but instead it just turned your eyeballs red and you couldn’t stop sneezing? I was able to finally perfect the formula. Even though I had to test it on myself… luckily there was no sneezing! I was able to use it to sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night and pilfer a midnight snack for myself. Pretty impressive, right?

I won’t be here much longer, though. In just a few short weeks I’ll be taking my exam so I can move onward with my education. A few of the other students I’ve talked to don’t seem to have any ambition beyond the basic knowledge that we’re learning here, but I have an insatiable thirst. I won’t stop until I’ve reached the top. Grandmother wrote me about a very prestigious school that only 35% of applicants are accepted into. It’s got a rigorous program intended to finalize any alchemists education. I’ve already sent my application, and the teacher here has already written a glowing recommendation for me. This could be it, Staan, finally.

I really hope that I hear from you soon, I could really use some of that classic Staanovaar optimism.

Your beloved,

Eydva

* * * * *

Eighth of Morning Star, 2E 577

My beloved Staanovaar,

I WAS ACCEPTED!

Did you have a good New Life Festival at home? I know Heddlak rues the occasion, as our town is known to drink him dry in a single day. I hope you had an ale for me. I wasn’t able to celebrate… I just arrived here at school and there’s no fun allowed.

Of course, that doesn’t stop me. I was able to sneak a drop or two of my infamous squeaky potion into the headmistress’ morning brew… I’m sure you can imagine how that turned out. What’s the point in life if you can’t have a little fun while you’re grinding away. Just don’t get caught!

Speaking of… bad news. After the introductory period is over, I won’t be able to write you again. They cut us off from the outside world (am I seeing a theme here?), in order to make sure we are not only fully invested in our education, but that there are no outside forces at play. I was so desperately looking forward to hearing from you, and I haven’t heard a single peep…

I can’t wait to see you again, and all of your sisters, and your mother. I think about her cooking a lot. But most of all I miss you, Staan. Your laughter, and your shining eyes. When I think about it… when I think about you…

I have something I need to share with you, my dearest Staanovaar. Something very deep from within my heart, something that I can’t quite put down into words on this piece of parchment paper.

I will be home in barely more than a year’s time. Even less by the time this reaches you.

Please wait for me, Staan.

Love,

Eydva

* * * * *

Eydva hopped out of the carriage, stretching her legs, bending low to stretch her back. She heard it pop in protest, but she didn’t care. She was home. After six month of tedious “learning” she was just glad to be home. As expected, her grandmother did not meet her outside, or even at the doors. But at least she wasn’t performing the walk of shame.

She closed the massive door quietly behind her, noticing that her grandmother was snoring softly on the chair by the fire. She shuffled quietly through the room and into her bedroom. It still felt so strange that their home was so empty. It seemed that grandmother hadn’t rehired anyone back after she’d left. She tossed her huge bag up onto her bed and sat down at her desk with a soft sigh. She would freshen up before she… before she went to go see Staanovaar. The thought of seeing him excited her, but it also caused a huge well of butterflies to sprout in her stomach. She’d always been so relaxed around him, for the most part, but the thought of confessing her love… she shook her head, pinching her cheeks. “Don’t be an idiot!” she chided herself.

She leaned back, letting her mass of red hair fall from her head, unfurling it from the bun it had been twisted in, fingers running between the strands. She’d like a nice bath before she ventured back out, but she wouldn’t really have time, not if she wanted to get to Staan’s place before the sun went down. She pinched her cheeks again, sighing. “Don’t worry, Staan is Staan, idiot, he won’t... he won’t…” she trailed off. She pushed away from her desk with a sigh and stood again.

“It’s now or never,” she told herself.

And with that, she crept carefully out of her room, through the living room, and back outside, closing the door softly behind her so she wouldn’t wake her grandmother. She bundled her coat back up around her face, and began the small hike to Staanovaar’s home.

As the estate came into view, she stopped, willing her heart to calm inside her chest. This was nothing special. It was just Staanovar. Her oldest friend. Her dearest friend. No matter what happened, that would always be true. She rubbed her cheeks gently, and pushed forward, mumbling words of encouragement to herself. As she approached the door, she stopped, her hand on the knob, idly kicking snow from her boots. She could see warm light spilling through the windows, and the muffled sounds of laughter and happy voices coming from inside, loudest of all was Staan’s booming laughter. It was probably just about dinner time, and she knew there would be a plate for her, there always was. She inhaled sharply, then pushed the door open, a grin on her face.

She closed the door softly behind her, undoing the fasteners on her coat. She slipped it off and hung it up on the wall with all the rest, along with her scarf. Pushing her hair from her face, still sporting her grin, she rounded the corner into the next nearest room, the dining room. “Hey guy--” she stopped dead.

As everyone at the table-- Staanovaar, his parents, all three of his sisters, an uncle, and… a beautiful young woman-- stared at her, her mouth dropped open, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. The girl? She was so lovely, with curly blonde hair and icy green eyes (how could she ever have compared to that?). She was sitting next to Staanovaar, ridiculously closely, very obviously comfortable in this position, surrounded by his family. Her hand was resting gently on his arm.

“Whoa, Eydva!” Staan cried out, jumping abruptly up from his chair. The girl beside him scoffed, her smile falling from her face in disgust as her hand was jerked from his arm. “You’re home?” he asked.

But that question received no answer. Before the tears could spill, before she made a fool of herself worse than she already had, Eydva had turned away from the heart wrenching scene and was already running out the door and through the yard, her coat and scarf forgotten.

She ran blindly through the snow, tears stinging her eyes. She stumbled into the nearby woods, willing her legs to carry her away from here, to anywhere else. The humiliation, the heartbreak, she could leave those behind if only she could run far enough, fast enough. She was numb to the cold, even as her fingers grew painful, as her legs began to ache with the effort of carrying herself, even as her tears froze onto her cheeks. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. She simply wanted to disappear.

So she ran.

It was later… much later, when she finally gave in to her exhaustion. Her body collapsed underneath her, legs crumpling, muscles no longer working. Her gingery hair was stiff around her head, snowflakes and ice sparkling within the tangles. She leaned against a pile of stones, shuddering and shaking, gasping to catch her breath. She fell down into the powdery snow, hoping that her heart wouldn’t explode before she could calm it. Not that mattered… what good was a heart if it were broken? She looked up then, and noticed a dog watching her from behind the nearest tree. It seemed apprehensive, but not entirely scared.

Eydva watched the dog curiously, their big eyes mirroring one another. When she sat back fully upright, the dog moved with her, coming from behind the tree just so. “Hey… I won’t hurt you,” she croaked, sputtering a bit as her lungs still didn’t seem quite up to the work of speaking, since they’d just barely gotten her breathing in check. She got up on her knees, and the dog stepped closer, then barked.

She jumped a bit, surprised, but it didn’t seem to be an aggressive bark. The dog caught her eye again and stepped to the left, woo-ing softly. Eydva blinked at it cautiously. A strange dog, alone in the woods…

She struggled to get back onto her feet, groaning with the effort of getting her body back into motion. “You want me to follow you, I suppose?” she whispered to the dog. She’d read enough books to know that this was a bad idea. The worst idea, probably. But she was heartbroken, feeling helpless. Feeling reckless.

The dog darted away as it saw Eydva taking a step toward it, bounding a few trees down the line. “I’m coming,” she promised it.

Years later, she would look back on that fateful night and why in Oblivion she decided to follow.  Much like her life at that time. she didn't know where the beast was going. She didn't know what awaited at her at her mystery destination.  But one thing was for sure, she had to go forward somehow, both in life and in that forest.  Might as well follow a strange dog she never met before even deeper into the woods and just see what happens.  After all, It couldn't hurt worse than what she had already been through, right? 

it was a foolish girl thought.  One born of her youth and impatience, her lack of context, her narrow scope of experience.  Anyone who has been around  or lived even half their life knows the lie of it.  The main truth of the Universe:  It doesn't matter how bad things are in your life at any given point.. 

They can always get worse.