Amelie
He and I were standing in the meadow. Our castle meadow. The morning sun was letting off its rays to the land below and beyond. Holding me in his arms, we traveled to the center-piece. The pink and purple flowers began to flow to the breeze, as did my white and his black hair. We embraced each other, Wergar and I not wanting to let go. 'Never let go,' I whispered in his ear.
'I won't,' Wergar said back to me. We held onto each other all the tighter.
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A wet cloth touched my brow, waking me from my dreaming world. My eyes fluttered, not wanting to obey but eventually opened up. I tried leaning up from where from the bed, but a stabbing pain at my side made me cry out.
"Don't move," came a calm voice. "You looked awful when you were brought in and the cut along your side gave me shivers just looking at it."
My eyes were adjusting to the dark as the voice continued. My ears made the voice and all other noises sound muffled, but the feeling was slowly disappearing. I looked around the room I was in. The walls looked hard, made of gray stone and the ceiling was thatch. Where in the wide world was I?
"Excuse me," I asked, "could you tell me where I am?" I got a good look at my doctor now. He had golden skin, pointed ears and was wearing purple robes. An Elven magister, I thought. From my time in the courts, a magister would wear similar garbs. They knew many different spells and alchemical creations.
"Of course. You are in a little town called Winterhold. Where you are now is my room from the inn." He continued to talk in a calm demeanor. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to you? Your side was torn up when a couple locals brought you in here."
I looked down at my left side. It was well stitched and cleaned up. There was no doubt in my mind that I owed this man my life. As for his question, when asked, I began to remember. Flashes of swords clashing ran through my mind. One sword stood out from the others. This sword was white and had runes etched into the blade. Wergar's sword: Moonbrand. And a sweeping uppercut ran through me, with what looked like silver. But I was remembering a battle that happened nearly two years ago. This injury was fresh. And since it hadn't healed, it was made by silver. But how long ago?
Several more memories came to. These were recent ones, by the looks of them. I was seeing a long voyage on sea, away from my homeland. Bits and pieces came and went, but the final image was of an uppercut with a pale sword in a snowy region of the new land I was in. Then nothing.
"I... I was slashed with a sword," I said, trying to piece it all together. "The weapon was pale in color. And..." The memories seemed to stop their slide show. "I'm sorry, I can't remember anything else. It's all a blur."
"It's ok," the man interjected. "At least you know what happened to you. I've never seen anyone like you before. What's you name?"
"My name?" I asked, "My name is Amelie, the White Wolf."
"White Wolf?" He asked, raising his eyebrow. "What is that?"
I was confused by his question. "What do you mean? It's what I am." He appeared to still not get it. "I am a White Wolf. It is a type of lycanthrope." His eyes widened a little, though I could tell he wanted to send them from their sockets.
"You're... You're a... a Werewolf?" His voice was a whisper, not wanting it to get past his room.
"Yes..." I replied, not quite sure how to answer his question other than that way. What he said next threw me through a loop.
"Incredible... a real, live Werewolf." He came closer to me, and began to look more intrigued. The proximity of which the Elf came made me a little uneasy.
I asked, "Is it a rarity to see one of my kind up close?"
"Most people tend to kill them when they get the chance because of their blood-thirsty natures," the Elf stated. Feeling satisfied in his examination, the doctor backed away a couple of steps.
"You asked me my name," I said, changing the subject, "now it's my turn. What's yours?"
The gold skinned Elf looked at me with what looked like a friendly smile. "My name is Nelacar." A bright light suddenly showed in his hands. Nelacar walked up to me and placed both on my side.
"What are you doing?" I asked, a little fear coming out. For all I knew, it could have been lethal.
"This will help with the pain and close the wound," he said. The light intensified, giving off rays like a peeking sun.
I had to look away, the light was slightly blinding to my still adjusting eyes. I felt something stir within me, feeling like a soothing bath feels on the outside. After a few moments of this, he took his arms away and the light vanished from his hands. I looked at my soon-to-be scar, and gave it a poke; I left a slight sensation, but no tremendous pain.
"Incredible," I exclaimed, not knowing how such a thing could happen. "You didn't even say any incantations." I leaned against the headboard. "Why did you do all of this? Were you told to help me or out of pity?" Wergar taught me to be cautious and he is a master at it.
"That is the power of magic Amelie. And incantations? From my studying of magic, not a lot of spells require them. Perhaps large rituals, but no simple spells like the one I just cast on you." Nelacar turned his head away for a little bit, exhaled, and looked toward me again. "I helped you because it doesn't feel right to let a person suffer when you know you can help them. Not after I went through so long ago." He began to walk toward his doorway.
I thought on his words, but something else began to nag me.
"Nelacar, I have something to ask." He turned from his doorway to look at me. "Who brought me here? Who found me?" The Elf spoke up.
"As I said, you were brought here by a couple of the locals. As for who found you, I do not know. No one said."
"Who do I need to ask to point me toward my savior?" I asked. Nelacar pointed to someplace at the bar.
"You will have to talk to Dagor, the inn keeper. He came and got me when you were brought in." After saying his piece, Nelacar walked into the bar. I got up from the bed and slowly followed.
I got a view of the bar. A large rectangular fire-place roared in the middle of the room, casting shadows and light as far as it could reach. Tables ran along the walls, several people sitting down trying to enjoy their drinks. A man behind a counter looked my way and lightened up.
"By the Divines... You are alive!" The excitement in his voice was enough to make him dance. "You must be hungry. Here," he said placing a bowl of stew from a lower shelf onto the counter. "Please, take it."
I was about to refuse when I heard my stomach. Looking down, I could see my ribs and my stomach growled even more when I smelled the meat within the broth. How long have I been unconscious, I thought. The stew was still steaming, seeming to draw me in, teasing me.
Walking up to the counter, limping along the way, I sat in a stool and graciously took the bowl; he placed a spoon in it.
"Thank you very much." He no idea how hungry I was; Eating a whole horse sounded it would cure me of hunger... for a time at least.
His blonde hair seemed to shrivel when I told him that. What that my imagination? Returning my attention to the food, I began to eat. It tasted so good that the fancy food I'm used to paled in comparison.
"My name is Dagor, the inn keeper here in Winterhold." Upon hearing his name, I perked up from the stew. It was half gone.
"Dagor?" I was a little surprised I found him so easily. "You're the one Nelacar told me to find. He said that you went to get him when I was brought here." I leaned in closer. "Who saved me and brought me here?"
He pointed out to a table. "Birna and her brother Ranmir found you and brought you in. You have them to thank for being able to breath." Thanking Dagor, I finished my meal and went toward my saviors. Looking at the man, I could tell, and smell, that he was a regular. The woman, Birna, spoke up as I approached.
"By Mara, you're breathing! When we found you in the snow, my brother and I didn't know what to do. Then..." worry found its way into her voice, "we saw the long cut and blood in the snow." She told me that her brother and her wrapped me in their cloaks and rushed me to the inn. They figured that if anyone could help me, it was Dagor. Ranmir spoke up.
"Ma'am, I'm glad you're ok." He reached to the table and handed me a bottle. It read Honningbrew Mead on the label "Here, you look like you could use a little drink."
I suppose I could, I thought, taking the bottle from him. Looking at the both of them, tears began to swell in my eyes. I thanked them the only way I could.
I hugged them and they hugged back. The tears rolled down my cheeks and onto the sibling's shoulders. I was thankful that they found me. I only wished my husband was with me.
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