Chapter Text
Revenant:
a person who has returned, especially supposedly from the dead.
Falkreath, for all its morbid themes, was an idyllic place that both Khionah and I preferred over most of Skyrim. We would later return here for a hiatus while she constructed Lakeview Manor.
On the 23rd of Last Seed, 4E201, at approximately 9:30, A monolith of a woman came through the door of Dead Mans Drink, the place where I had been staying while I researched potential Points Of Interest, and waited for someone I could accompany. I needed someone who was grizzled enough that I would be making a good investment, but not so much that they would rob me and leave me back at square one.
At first I didn't have a good look at her face. All I saw was a large cape/shawl that hung loosely over her broad shoulders, and salt and pepper hair twisted into a practical braid. There was no armor on her that I could see, but there was a bandoleer of vials and spell books that peaked through her shapeless draping. At the very least I was intrigued, and I am known by many to be the friendly sort that will chat up anyone and everyone as long as I'm not bothering them.
After speaking with the barkeeper, she turns away and sits at a table bench, facing the fire while she wrestled with a bag full of cloth.
Her face was notably angular, with a aquiline nose upon which perched a pair of half-moon glasses, and the fair skin all Nords seemed to have. She had her black wrap drawn high up the neck, and close to the wrists so that only the face and hands were seen.
"Excuse me ma'am, I don't normally do this, but do you have a moment to talk?" I say after I approach her.
She looks up, and its then I notice that her eyes are a brilliant chartreuse color, made more intense by the black smudge about her eyes. I only catch it for a second, and at the time I immediately dismissed it as a trick of the fires light, but her pupils seemed oblong like a horse's or a goat's.
"Of course, what do you need?" She looks down, breaking eye contact immediately, busying herself with uncorking a vial of what smelled like dried dragons tongue.
"My name is Lucien Flavius, I'm a scientist, philosopher, amateur wizard, and something of a musician-- though I suppose that's more of a hobby." I add.
She smiles a bit, and makes a gesture urging me to continue.
"I couldn't help noticing that you seem... how should I put this... well acquainted with the less savoury side of Skyrim?"
Shrugging, she responds. "I've seen a thing or two, do you need help with something?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. I'm here in Skyrim on an expedition-- academic mainly. I find the province simply fascinating! The flora, the fauna, the ruins-- both Dwemer and Nordic, the architecture, the politics..."
Still earnestly listening, her smile grows at that.
"Trouble is, in not really much of a fighter. I know a few spells and just about how to swing a sword, but beyond that I'm pretty useless in combat. Skyrim's no place for a "milk-drinker" like me, not on my own anyway. So... I'm looking for someone to travel with!"
Her eyebrow quirks at "milk-drinker" but otherwise stays silent so I continue.
"I suppose what I'm asking is would you awfully mind if I... tag along? I of course would compensate you most handsomely for putting up with me."
"Of course not, I would be delighted to show you around. Though I must admit I am relatively new to the country myself, so it will be a new experience for both of us. And don't worry about paying me, its alright."
"Even better! And no, I must insist. Friendly reminder that you will probably be defending me more than fighting with me..."
"Indeed, if you intend on wearing that instead of armor." She gestures to my clothing. "Tell you what, tomorrow morning we will pay a visit to Lod, the blacksmith, and we will get you some proper adventuring attire, and you can pay him instead of me. Sounds good?"
"You have a point... alright, sounds like a plan--?" I fish for her name.
"My name is Khionah, by the way," She laughs.
"A pleasure to meet you. Now, forgive me if its obvious, but are those potion ingredients?"
The next morning, she wakes me up at dawn, already having been up since before sunrise herself. Lod is busy at his forge, and she speaks with him at great length about the different types of armor. Some of it goes over my head, but for the most part I understand that she is trying to figure out what I can wear that will both let me use my magic but also be as protected as possible.
Eventually she seems to be fed up and deigns to do it herself. This is where I am given the first hint at her peculiar abilities. I look away for a moment because a goat was making noise, and once I looked back-- poof! she had something in her hand, with the original materials no where to be seen.
I try to ask her questions, but she artfully dodges them as she helps me into the set. It fits comfortably and while it weighs a decent amount, it doesn't restrict my movement. Once she was satisfied we set off, and on the journey she regaled a story that was unbelievable to me at the time.
"A dragon? As in the great beasts from ancient times? That fly?"
"Yes, black as midnight and it spoke with power."
"Well..." I try and mask the doubt in my voice, "Then in that case shouldn't we warn the Jarl of Whiterun?"
She thinks for a moment, then nods. "We should. We are going to Whiterun now, so I will tell him when we are there."
A pause fills the air as I think to myself, examining her story forwards and backwards for any tells that it is fiction.
"Tell me about yourself Lucien Flavius. Why are you in Skyrim?"
She pulls me from my musing and I look up at her. "Well as I said before, I am on an academic expedition. I want real experience in the places I have studied, and want to contribute to the knowledge I have taken from."
She nods. "And where have you studied?"
"Well all the libraries in the Imperial City for starters, then there's the Archives kept in the central tower that I was allowed to look at from time to time. Other than that I have pretty much picked through all the places in Cyrodiil I could find."
"You took a special interest in Skyrim?"
"You could say that. This place is like one big time capsule when you think about it. Obviously so is Cyrodiil but adventurers have gone over that place more thoroughly. Even the Hero of Kvatch was an adventurer before the events of the Oblivion Crisis."
I see her make a face in my peripheral vision, but when I look at her fully she is back to a rested neutrality. "Was she now, that's interesting. So you want to study the Nordic ruins then? Or the Dwemer?"
"Both if I get the chance. I would be lying though if I said I wasn't particularly interested in the Dwarves. Every civilization has its wonders, but they are almost entirely an enigma."
"That is true. They al disappeared into the aether and left behind contraptions almost impossible to make sense of."
The rest of the journey to Whiterun is uneventful besides my conversations with Khionah. As unfriendly as she first appeared, she was a good listener and a sweetheart when she did speak. I kept having to remind her that I have already eaten when she would try and hand me something or other, and every time she would get this perplexed expression on her face as though she had forgotten.
She had a remarkable education in alchemy and enchanting, and offered to enchant my new things once we arrived in Whiterun. She admitted that she had been alone on the road for a while ever since her last companion perished under her protection. She got oddly tight lipped after that, and I decided it would be best to change the subject.
We get to the gates of Whiterun at about an hour after nightfall, where a guard stops us and says the gates are closed with the dragons about.
This time I am unable to hide my surprise. Luckily Khionah doesn't seem to notice and tells him she has valuable information. Once he lets us in, she gives me a wink and beckons for me to follow.