I hope Erandur sleeps okay. Today was awful. I'm all right now, but he's exhausted and I can tell he's still feeling it.

  It didn't start bad. We went into the prison area, and to be honest, there wasn't much exciting in there aside from a cell block with more bandits and skeevers to fight. I did find a lot of potions, though, and there were a few mages in their ranks.

  There was also the commander's quarters, with another mage in it, but she wasn't that powerful of one. She could throw a punch, though - I'll give her that. I took a few hits before she went down.

  We found a chest with some nice armor and gold in it, and even an alchemy table. I'd been finding charred skeever hides all over the place, and I was able to put them to good use making Cure potions.

  I hope I don't need one tomorrow. I got bit a few times.

  We explored the outside, and found another chest on top of a tower. As I picked the lock, Erandur was looking out over the landscape, and I know he was seeing the place as it used to be.

  He's like a ghost. He's not the only person I've met who was born in another era, but they're… Old. He's not, at least not on the outside. The lines on his face, the dark circles under his eyes and the silver streaks in his hair aren't the type you get from age. They're from a hard life with no sleep or safety. I saw it a lot, back in Cyrodiil. Valdimar told me that in our terms, Erandur's only in his late thirties, and looks typical of Dunmer half his age who've had it rough.

  Anyway, we left the fort after that, and took the road to Dawnstar. On the way there, Erandur gestured around, and told us what he could remember about the place. He still remembers the names of some of his childhood friends.

  He had an exciting story for us, too. We stopped by a tree, and Erandur said one of the clearest memories he has is about his parents and a house fire that happened right there. There was a festival, he couldn't remember which one, with a big bonfire as part of it. The wind picked up and carried some embers onto the roof of a house nearby. Because of the smoke from the bonfire, no one noticed it was burning until it was too late.

  The crowd heard a call for help come from inside, and a woman ran up in a panic. Her husband hadn't been feeling well, and had gone home to bed. He was still in there. Erandur said he could distinctly remember the sound of the roof starting to give, and the door practically exploding off its hinges as one side of the frame collapsed.

  His father, Devas, rushed to the house, braced himself against the timbers of the door frame - which were on fire - and forced it back open. Erandur said he kept Healing himself as he did it, and called out that the man had fallen not far from the door. Two men came out of the crowd and ducked past Devas to grab the man and drag him out before the building came down.

  Both of his parents knew magic, so his mother, Relamu, went to help revive the man, while he went to see to his father. Devas's clothes were a lost cause, but he was all right, and Erandur remembers him joking about the talking-to he was going to get for scaring his mother half to death and ruining his nice shirt.

  I said, "So that's where you get it from!" and we laughed and kept going.

  Lydia asked about the memories Vaermina took from him, and he shrugged. He knows the Cult took the memory of his parent's death, and of his name, but Time took the rest. He did remember two old nicknames he had, though, but they didn't give him a clue about his real name.

  He knew that was the case, because, as he put it, "the priests are like surgeons" when it came to extracting memories. They would take nicknames that were shortenings or too close to your name, but leave others. He said that new acolytes always stopped using their old nicknames anyway, because they didn't mean anything to them anymore.

  He seemed almost embarrassed to tell us his, but after some "gentle" prodding he did. He said he was sometimes called "Merrivar", but usually "Merri", and he knew the townsfolk were the ones who gave him those names. He didn't know why they called him that, but his parents thought it was hilarious.

  We kept following the road, and saw a horse up ahead, then heard a Shout. There was a Tongue, fighting two frostbite spiders and a bear. We ran forward to help, and this time we got to him before he died.

  Once the animals were dead, he cautioned me about my spells looking dangerous (seriously, magic does not always equal danger) and ran off towards the fort.

  We found a dead Imperial soldier in the snow, clearly a victim of the creatures, and went back through the trees to the road. There was a nobleman wearing fine clothes getting back on his horse - judging from the snow on his clothes, it had thrown him when the fight started - with an Imperial soldier holding the reigns steady for him.

  He told us to leave him alone, or his bodyguard would have something to say about it, before riding off towards Fort Dunstad.

  Rude.

  We watched them leave, then Erandur smiled and said that the path leading to the Hall of the Vigilant was just ahead, off the road. He was going on about certain trees and stones he and his friends had played on, pretending they were on pirate ships and sword fighting with sticks and such, when he stopped, and grabbed at his heart.

  The Hall of the Vigilant was on fire.

  As before, Septim bolted up the path, and I couldn't help but chase after him.

  The others were right behind me, and as I took the path that wove through the stones, I could feel my heart start to pound and my chest getting tight.

  When I got to the Hall, I saw a Death Hound laying dead nearby, along with the body of a Vigilant of Stendarr. There was a dead vampire sprawled on the porch steps. Septim was on the porch, barking at it, and that's when it got to be too much for me.

  I ran.

  I scrambled up and over the rocks and jumped off the edge of a small drop-off. I remember rolling in the snow, getting up, then running again. I just ran until I couldn't smell the smoke anymore, and ducked into a little nook between some stones.

  Septim ran up to me, and I hugged him, and not long after I heard Lydia calling my name. I had calmed down a bit, but I couldn't breathe right, yet, and I couldn't speak to answer her. Lydia poked her head around the rocks and took off her helmet.

  She told me it was all right. No one was going to hurt me. She gave me a hug, and held me until I could breathe properly.

  Once I could talk well enough to thank her, I realized we were alone. Septim had run off. I asked where the others were, and Lydia said that Valdimar was with Erandur. "He's not okay."

  That got me off my ass and running back to the burning hall.

  We found Valdimar and Erandur at the base of the path, right where it reaches the rocks. Valdimar was crouched next to Erandur with his arm around him. Erandur was on his knees, curled up with his head in his hands. I heard him whisper, "Mara, it hurts," and I could tell he was gritting his teeth. Septim was on the other side of him, whining.

  Valdimar looked up when I got there. "Spirit Wound," he said, and that's all I needed to hear.

  Suddenly, the wind kicked up and I realized that I was absolutely freezing. If I'm doing bad, so is he, and I asked Lydia to build us a fire. Valdimar had the firewood in his pack, so the two of them set to work while I took a turn with my arm around Erandur.

  He was shaking, but not from the cold. I rubbed circles on his back, even though I have no idea if he could feel it through his armor and his cloak. I could tell he was having trouble breathing. I told him that he was all right, and that we were all here for him. I asked him if the fire was okay, and he nodded. I asked if it was the fire that did it, and he shook his head before he whispered, "Blood… On the snow."

  I'd seen a big splash of it on the snow in front of the hall before I ran. He'd been right behind me.

  The fire was starting to warm us both, now, and I asked if he could sit up. He did, but kept his hands at his head. His eyes were shut tight, and tears were streaked down his face. I asked if he had a headache, and he nodded. He started to catch his breath, and I asked if some Healing might help?

  I think he shrugged, but Valdimar said it couldn't hurt, so I did.

  As the spell light faded, Erandur sighed, and was able to take his hands away and open his eyes. He wiped at his face and thanked us, before he apologized.

  I asked what he was apologizing for, and he said it was for reacting like that and slowing us down. It was getting dark, and the weather was getting even colder. He didn't want us to freeze out here for his sake.

  Lydia crouched down in front of him and said, kindly but firmly in that way she does, that he never has to apologize for needing our help. He's our friend, and we care about him, and giving him some time to collect himself after something like that is no trouble at all. He's always taking care of us; he deserves some care, too.

  Erandur thanked her for the reminder, then got to his feet. He said we should get going. Jarl Skald will want to know about the fort being clear of bandits, and what happened at the Hall of the Vigilant.

  We put out the fire and got back on the road to Dawnstar. Septim stayed by Erandur's side for the walk, and only left to charge a wolf that jumped out of the bushes at us.

  No one spoke as we walked, but the thoughts were deafening. It was even getting to Lydia, and she said to me, "I can hear the gears."

  I sighed and asked Erandur if I could ask him a question about what happened back there. He said he couldn't promise an answer, but he'd hear it. I told him I couldn't help but wonder if he remembered something. Didn't they take his memories?

  He hummed a bit, and confessed that he'd been wondering about that. Clearly, removing the memories took what he saw and heard from his mind. Maybe the priests could only take what they could perceive?

  Valdimar nodded, and said, "So they took the memory, but not the Hurt." That made sense to him. Even the Divines couldn't heal a Spirit Wound. Taking the pain would heal it, and there's no way a Daedra could do that!

  We agreed, and Erandur asked me if the Dreamstride had more than sight and sound. He'd never had reason to use it.

  I said that yes, it did. I could hear, see, smell and feel everything, even his emotions.

  I didn't tell him that I got shreds of thoughts, here and there. Mostly it had been that feeling of urgency, that I had to go go go. Bits of recognition and sadness as I stepped over dead cultists. There were whispers of "Leave," and "No, I can't!" fighting in my head. I know he got more and more confused the closer he got to the pull chain, but when it came into view everything in his head cleared. He only had to pull the chain and RUN.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  By this time Dawnstar came into view, and the sun was setting. We came here, into the Windpeak Inn, and I took care of our rooms for the night, along with ordering up some dinner.

  I said I'd take care of Alesan's, too, and dropped enough gold on the counter to feed the boy for at least a week.

  Speaking of Alesan, he came over a bit after I started writing and said that Thoring told him I'd paid for his dinner. He wanted to know why. I didn't want to get his hopes up and just tell him I wanted to adopt him, so instead I said it was because he did such a good job taking care of the miners.

  He seemed a bit confused. He got paid for his job. That was enough, right?

  Smart kid.

  I told him to consider it a bonus from the Dragonborn! He got all wide-eyed after that, and after I assured him that yes, I really was the Dragonborn, he thanked me and left to go back to his dinner.

  Anyway, Erandur said he should go talk to Skald, but Lydia said she would do it and left before he had a chance to protest. She promised she'd be quick. Dinner was coming, after all.

  It wasn't long until Erandur was surrounded by townsfolk wanting to speak with him. He greeted them and adjusted his posture. Hearing that fancy accent come back was kind of spooky!

  Once the crowd of people needing counsel, prayers, Healing, or just wanting to catch up dispersed, Erandur came back to our table. He cast a quick look around before he allowed his shoulders to slump and his usual expression to return.

  By this time Lydia had come back and dinner was served. His soup was almost cold, but Karita came over and switched it out with a warm bowl before we could say anything.

  I asked him if he was all right, and when he tried to say that he was fine, Lydia gave him a warning look. He sighed and admitted that he was tired after having to tend to the people on top of all that happened. He just wanted to eat, say his prayers, and rest.

  I agreed, then pulled out this thing and my writing kit.

  Valdimar laughed and said if I ever published these, I could give Waughin Jarth some serious competition!

  Hah! Yeah, that's not gonna happen.

  Anyway, we soon finished up our dinner, and Erandur excused himself for the evening. We told him good night, and Valdimar piped up that he wouldn't be far behind him.

  Once Erandur was out of sight Valdimar confided that he didn't want to leave him alone for too long. I agreed. He's not the type that does well on his own.

  Before long Valdimar finished his mead and went to bed, then Lydia said she was leaving, too. We'd found some books in Fellglow Keep, and she wanted to read a bit before she slept.

  I wonder what happened back there two hundred years ago? The only reason people die at the same time like that is disease or murder, and an illness wouldn't leave blood all over the ground outside.

  I wonder what killed them. Bandits? Animals?

  Oh, well. I just hope that he'll be all right. If he's anything like me, he needs something to take his mind off it.

  -/-/-/-/-/-

  I have an idea.

  It's late, so the only people awake besides me are Thoring and Karita. I was finishing my wine when I heard Karita complain to her father about "that creepy Imperial" flirting with her.

  I gave a look, and she laughed quietly and said no, not me. Silus, the man who ran the museum of the Mythic Dawn. She and her friends had gone to the museum out of curiosity, and he seemed to think that she was interested in him because she'd asked him a few questions about his exhibits.

  I nodded, and quipped that I didn't think I'd been flirting with her!

  Thoring clapped his hand over his mouth to muffle a laugh. I was confused, and Karita explained that the first time I'd come in here, after that drinking contest, I flirted with everyone.

  Stupid Daedra and his stupid Daedra booze.

  I apologized, and asked what they could tell me about Silus. I told them about the pamphlet, and I was curious.

  Thoring said that he didn't trust the man. Running a museum for free doesn't bring in any coin, yet he seems to have plenty to spare. He knew he was rich, but there had to be limits! Where did he get it?

  I agreed that was a good question, and Karita added that all she got from him (aside from the fact that he's slimy) was that he was very proud of the fact that he's from a family of Daedra worshipers.

  More Daedra worshipers?

  Dawnstar has terrible luck.

  I think we have a museum to visit after we do some trading tomorrow morning!

  I wasn't expecting to spend tonight at The Winking Skeever, but here we are.

  The ferry here to Solitude took longer than I thought. Luckily Septim didn't have a problem with it! I was afraid he'd be nervous, but he didn't seem to mind it at all.

  We had a nice breakfast at the Inn. Erandur seemed in good spirits, but he still looked tired.

  He actually dozed off on the boat and ended up leaning on Valdimar's shoulder.

  Valdimar whispered to us that Erandur hadn't slept well. He woke up, thrashing and in the middle of some words he couldn't understand. Erandur apologized for keeping him awake, and Valdimar asked if he'd had a nightmare. He had, but it was strange. He knew he was reliving when his parents had died, but with no sight or sound. It was mostly darkness, with flashes of red and white. Through it all were his feelings and the smell of blood.

  Valdimar said he offered to get him a warm drink, or rub his back or just sit on the side of the bed until he drifted off, but Erandur wouldn't have it. He didn't want to keep him up.

  Lydia and I nodded. Typical.

  Valdimar smiled and said it took a bit of coaxing, but Erandur eventually asked if he could check his cloak to see if it was dry. It was, so he handed it to him. He said Erandur got out of bed and put his cloak down on top of the linens before getting back in on top of it and burrowing under the covers.

  Valdimar went back to his bed but said he had to know why Erandur was sleeping on his cloak, so he asked. Erandur said sleeping on furs was "a comfort" to him.

  Valdimar recounted what Erandur told him next. He insisted he didn't have to pry for it; the Dunmer had offered it freely. Either he's getting tired of bottling everything up, or he wanted a good memory to fall asleep to.

  Apparently Erandur didn't have a bed of his own until he got to Nightcaller Temple. He slept with his parents when he was small, but later on he slept on a pile of furs by the hearth. His father told him that since his mother got cold easily, it was his job to make sure the fire stayed lit. The hearth was his first real responsibility, and he said he took it very seriously.

  No wonder he always has extra torches and firewood on him. Priest of Mara, through and through.

  Valdimar stifled a laugh, and said he pointed that out to him. It sounds like he's been training for the priesthood his whole life!

  He didn't fall asleep right away, though. Not until after Valdimar lit the candle on the table between them, and promised that it wouldn't keep him awake.

  I told Valdimar he was a good man, but he just shrugged and said he tries.

  You know, that's probably why the trip took so long. Harlaug's a skilled ferryman; he started to take the waves easily, and stuck to calm sections of water once he realized Erandur was asleep.

  Divines, I'm getting ahead of myself! Back to this morning.

  We woke up a bit early for the forge to be open, so I decided to wander around a bit. That's when I saw Harlaug sitting on the side of his boat. We greeted each other, and he told me he could take us to Windhelm or Solitude.

  I told him to give us a bit, and we kept going east, along the beach.

  Not far from where Harlaug had pulled his boat up, the atmosphere stared to chill. Not in the weather sense, but in feeling and mood. Septim whined and hid behind my legs. Erandur said people avoided this section of beach. There was evil here. Just as I was about to ask what sort of evil there was, I saw a creepy-looking door set into the stone just under a ledge.

  I can't stress enough just how intensely creepy this thing is. Not only does it give off an obvious aura of evil, it looks it. There's a giant skull on it, with a bloody handprint on the forehead, and a skeleton and a sword below it.

  "That's the evil," said Erandur, and just sighed and put his hand to his face when I started to go up to it. I could hear a coin flip behind me, then Lydia cussed and trudged after me.

  When I got near, the spookiest voice I've ever heard hissed out from the door itself. It asked, "What is life's greatest illusion?"

  I have no idea, so I just said something that I heard a street prophet say once back in the Capital about reality and dreams that had sounded very profound at the time. This wasn't good enough for the door, and it said I wasn't worthy.

  Awfully rude from something that looks very pickaxe-able.

  So, I took out my pickaxe! A riddle door must be hiding something good, I figured, but Valdimar rushed up and grabbed it from my hands when I brought it back for a swing. He held it up high so I couldn't reach and said, "Your pickaxe privileges are revoked, my liege!"

  I'm sort of annoyed that he and Lydia use "my thane" and "my liege" as a joke, but I'm more glad they stopped using it seriously. Feels weird when people use a title to refer to me. Just call me Bronwen.

  Erandur told me to calm down and said the Black Door led to an abandoned Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. The assassins stopped using it around the time he left.

  I said he should've opened with that, and promised I wouldn't try to get in.

  Last thing I need is more assassins after me.

  I went back down to the water, and saw a lighthouse up on the hill above. Erandur said the view was excellent up there, especially when the weather is clear like it is today. Up we went, and he was right! I spotted a shipwreck, and far to the east I could see the silhouette of a huge building jutting out over the sea. It sort of reminded me of the Blue Palace, but that was in the other direction.

  I was about to ask what that was, when Valdimar, who was next to me, suddenly asked what that tent was doing there? We looked to where he was pointing, and saw a large tent on the beach. Curious, we went to investigate, and well…

  Inside were two bedrolls scattered with red mountain flowers, along with bottles of wine, boiled creme treats, and an Amulet of Mara.

  Some lucky couple had a good time here recently! I picked up the Amulet of Mara to show the others and asked what they thought happened here, hmm?

  Valdimar laughed, and asked Erandur if he'd dropped something?

  Erandur blushed, and said he had nothing to do with it! Besides, he hadn't done any weddings in a while, and no one mentioned anything about needing his services for one last night.

  Still laughing, we went back to town, giving the Sanctuary door a wide berth. The forge was open by this time, so I did some trading with Rustleif, then headed to the museum. We passed the alchemist's shop, the Mortar and Pestle, and I stuck my head in to see what was there.

  The alchemist, Frida, is a sweet old lady. She greeted Erandur warmly and told us some adorable stories about her late husband. She said there had been lovely words from Erandur at his service, by the way. The man died while looking for an artifact; the Ring of Pure Mixtures.

  I offered to get it for her before she could say another word.

  She said she'd give me some free alchemy training if I manged to find it, and marked the location on my map.

  Erandur thanked me after we left. Frida and her husband were old friends of his, and he'd spent many evenings at the Windpeak Inn talking with them. I said I was glad to help.

  We went to the museum, and saw an Imperial man dressed in red robes with gold sun rays along the collar arguing with Medena, the wizard.

  She was telling him this museum was a mistake, and he rebuffed her. His family deserved to be remembered.

  We spoke with Medena as she left, and she told us not to go in. She said that Silus was clearly doing this for himself. His family was part of a cult that nearly destroyed Tamriel, and they should be forgotten.

  After she left, I looked at the others. We had to make sure he wasn't a cultist, so we said hello, and he welcomed us to his museum. He gave me a look and said I looked like I might be the type to help him with a little job.

  I said I'd see about that, and we went inside.

  The inside of his house is decorated with tattered banners from old cult locations, and some display cases. Inside one case are sets of robes they used to wear. He's clearly wearing a replica of them. Other cases hold a page from a book penned by Mehrunes Dagon, a book about the book by Mehrunes Dagon, and the empty scabbard of a dagger.

  He told us about each artifact, and when I asked him more questions, he kept going on about his family and how they were powerful and the Mythic Dawn once held the fate of the world in their hands and… Yeah.

  I cut him off and asked him about the job he wanted help with. Of course, he had to give me a little "history lesson", first. The empty scabbard once held Mehrunes' Razor, an artifact of the Daedric prince. The razor had been split into three pieces by some group looking to stop the Mythic Dawn long ago, and he's found out where they are. Want he wants is to restore the dagger, and complete his collection.

  I'm not going to help someone put a Daedric artifact back together! Especially not someone who's singular mission in life seems to be telling all of Nirn about the power his family once held.

  We left, and once outside, I said I wasn't sure he was a cultist.

  We all looked at Erandur. He looked offended and asked why in Oblivion are we looking at him?

  We just blinked at him, not wanting to say anything out loud in public.

  I swear by the Nine, he actually pouted!

  Eventually he huffed and said that Silus probably isn't a threat. More like a man desperately trying to make himself feel important by crowing about his family's "accomplishments" rather than go through the effort to do anything impressive himself. His loyalty was clearly more to his family and his museum than to Mehrunes Dagon. If he was so keen on getting those pieces of the razor, he'd get them himself.

  We'll need to stop by now and again to check up on him, though. See if he'd managed to rope someone else in to complete the Razor.

  Even though the museum didn't work out as a good distraction, Erandur seemed to be doing better, and is more interested in helping out Frida, anyway.

  Harlaug was still there with his boat, so we hired him and took the ferry to Solitude. It was dark by the time we reached the docks, so we went on up the steps and straight to the Winking Skeever.

  Everyone's just having a few drinks and chatting. It's nice to have a slow day.

  I think today counts as slow. I honestly can't remember the last time I had a day where I didn't have to kill anything.

  Hmm. That's probably not good.

  Oh, well. That's my life now, I guess.

  I think I'll sell off what we can first thing in the morning, then go see Elisif to let her know Torygg's horn is safe. We'll head back to the manor after that, and maybe relax there for a few days while I do some building and we plan our next move.