The day began to close and the fires of the city were lit when I walked up the steps to the Temple of Mara. Maybe it was that encounter with the young Bosmer that put me in mind to visit this place. It occurred to me that if there was any being that could assist me in controlling the strange shifting in my mind whenever I killed someone, it would be Mara.
She was after all, the aedra of compassion and understanding. If she could keep Auriel and Lorkhan from killing each other, she could keep me from going insane, or whatever it was I was doing. And upon entering the Temple, I briefly wondered if Derkeethus was at that bunkhouse.
Inside, the air was redolent with the smell of burning juniper branches while the many candles emitted a dim, fatty, yellow light. Pews were arranged very neatly, though I got the impression they were not often used nor that sermons were held.
This land was not like Chorrol, where every Sundas the entire town sat in the stuffy cathedral. My parents and I never went, as we never had faith in the deity they called Stendarr.
Ahead of me was the traditional depiction of Mara by men in the form of a large statue. Always crying, was Mara. I don't know why. One would think she should be happy to be the patron of such positive things. I couldn't place flowers, especially the lotus she always loved, so I had to settle for some of the food in my pack. Hearty food that reminded one of hearth, home, and warm things.
I raised my hands and closed my eyes, focusing on my plea. "Mara, grant me the strength to remain a whole being so that I might give my fallen enemies the respect and compassion they deserve. Grant me the understanding so that I might end this reconcile this shifting and collapsing inside of me."
Lowering my hands, I looked up at the statue. I felt nothing, but I knew how this kind of thing worked. Somewhere along the road, they would suddenly hear your plea, forgotten in their memory with the millions of other pleas, and grant you a blessing. If they decided you were worth the trouble, of course.
I left to collect Derkeethus.
Following my earlier hunch, I made my way to the bunkhouse.
Inside the place was dank and smelled of old, spilt mead, sweat, and shame. Derkeethus was off in a corner, sitting next to a young woman who leaned on him heavily and murmured in his ear. He looked a tad uncomfortable and was instead looking longingly off into the dining room at one of the Argonian women.
I followed his gaze and spotted Valindor from earlier sitting at one of the tables full of Dunmer workers. He didn't see me, but I felt suddenly awkward that he would eat in a place like this. He deserved something better. As Derkeethus looked back, he spotted me and got up, feigning exuberance.
"Gwaihen! So good to see you! I had been wondering when you'd turn up!" He walked over and laid an arm around my shoulder. "Walk out now. Quickly. Or that woman will hound me until I finally bed her out of irritation!" he whispered.
"Of course, my friend! Now if we don't hurry, we're going to be late for our meeting with your cousin at the Bee and Barb!"
As we left, we heard Madesi grumble from the dining room, "But I don't dine at the Bee and Barb." I also saw the Bosmer glance my way.
Once we were outside in the cool evening air, Derk dropped his arm. "Thanks. I had wanted to charm the Argonian women with the beautiful golden scales, but she just wouldn't have me. So I sat down for a while and that Nord woman came over drunk out of her mind and wouldn't get off me. No offence, but you soft-skins just aren't...appealing."
We walked across the street into the Bee and Barb. I rented a room from Keerava, and took a seat by the fireplace with Derkeethus. For a while, we ate in silence and watched the patrons, warmed by the fire.
"I don't know what to do Derkeethus. I think we'll have to backtrack to Windhelm, but I don't even have a guarantee that we'll find what we need when we get there."
"Only way to know is to go there."
"I know, but it feels like we're chasing shadows in the dark. How do we know that alchemist will have what we need or even know about this sickness." I got up and moved across the room to ponder for a while.
It wasn't long before the bartender approached me.
"I overheard you mention the alchemist of Windhelm. Do you truly only wish to heal the sick?" he asked, looking me suspiciously up and down.
"Yes. Aside from the townspeople, there's a little girl there Derkeethus cares about very deeply that is plagued by something."
"Have your friend come with me into the cellar, but don't be obvious about it," he whispered.
Derkeethus and I casually sauntered over towards a door that was positioned under the stairs. We leaned against the door, absentmindedly chewing on dried meat, before Derk silently cracked the door an we slipped through.
Down in the cellar, the bartender lit a plate of candles sitting on a barrel by the bottom of the stairs. Above us, we could hear boots and shoes tromping around as well as every word the patrons directly above us were saying.
"I come down here sometimes to get information that others aren't so willing to share," the bartender whispered. All business, he continued, "What you want to know was acquired in such a manner. Seeing as that is rather unsavory and the purveyors of this information would not want it so freely shared..."
"How much?" I asked.
"Oh, but a trifle. You see, I want to create a ring for Keerava. I've had my eye on her for some time, but I find myself lacking in funds to purchase the materials." I fished out 50 septims and pressed them into his claws. "Ah, much obliged."
"So, what do you know?" Derkeethus asked a tinge too hopefully.
"A week ago a group of Imperial soldiers entered the Bee and Barb sounding rather put out about 'some business up in Windhelm'. They complained about the non-compliance of a certain Altmer alchemist who refused to let them join in on this little project of his."
"What was the project? It must be something powerful to get the Imperials involved." I leaned against a pillar, trying to conceal my interest better than Derkeethus was.
"Nothing short of the holy grail of alchemy. The White Phial," he whispered, eyes glittering in the dark. "I don't know much about it, but I know that Nurelion has been seeking it all his life. He's come here many times during his quest to locate it. Evidently, he must have made enough headway to catch the interest of the Imperials. No doubt the Stormcloaks are doing their best to bribe him to remain under their 'care' as well."
We thanked the bartender, who finally introduced himself as Talen-Jei, and headed upstairs for some much needed rest. As we had in the wilds, we traded time on the comfortable bed. I took the first shift, but awakened when I heard the sound of a tail scuffling across the floor and leaving the room. I headed outside and spotted Derkeethus sitting on a balcony across the street.
He appeared to be lost in thought, no doubt worrying about Hrefna and our journey to Windhelm ahead. I left him to his thoughts and went to sleep on the floor in the bedroll, leaving the bed for him should he come inside.
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