The bridge ahead marked a symbolic crossing for Lyra, a threshold leading a few more yards East, in the direction of Windhelm, which she'd left so hastily. She suppressed a shiver at the mere thought, the memories of the hardships she'd faced still fresh in her mind, even from this distance.

As they approached the bridge, Lyra noticed Finrod's occasional lapses into silence, his gaze drifting into the distance as if lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts. Good, she mused, more time to gather my own thoughts.

When Finrod broke the silence with another pointed question, Lyra couldn't resist a wry smile. "I could ask the same of you," she retorted playfully. "Not many High Elves roaming Skyrim these days, are there?" She said it softly, though even she noticed that the jest held a tinge of bitterness beneath its surface. She wished she understood more about herself, and about her companion -- what was it that separated them from the rest?

But as the humor faded, Lyra's thoughts turned inward, the weight of Finrod's question bearing down on her like a leaden cloak. Why am I here? she wondered, the question echoing internally, What good is my life? What purpose do I serve?

"I... I suppose I came here for a chance at a better life," she admitted, her voice a bit melancholic. "My family... they worked so hard to give me that chance. But..." They're gone, she thought sadly, not finishing the rest out loud. Sometimes, I wish I wasn't here at all.

Lost in her thoughts, Lyra took a few more steps before realizing that Finrod had stopped in his tracks. She gasped, her heart quickening its pace as she met his gaze, realizing how close they were now. There was something different about him, something that set him apart from the men she had encountered before. If anything, the odd part was his seeming utter disinterest in her, she realized with both appreciation and annoyance. She faced him still, standing at the threshold of their journey.

"But...what?" Finrod prying for any sort of clue into this seemingly out of place Dark Elf... What is she hiding... and why? I suppose I cant be upset... considering She seems to be doing the same thing as I am He thinks to himself... The wind seeming to pick up nearing the river, the smell of the mountain flowers and water fills the air. So peaceful here

Lyra seemingly upset at his question, Finrod quickly tries to change the subject "We should keep going... we are close" Hoping Lyra will give him a little more information Finrod hesitates, waiting to see if Lyra answers or continues to walk with him Who in the world is this girl? What does she have to do with me?

Lyra wasn't appreciating the persistent probing, and the weight of his scrutiny was beginning to wear her down. What does he want from me, my whole damn life story? It all started when I was born... She wanted to throw her hands up in defeat, but chose to just ignore his persistence.

The sound of rushing water grew louder as they came to cross the river, its soothing melody crashing through the tension that hung between them. Why did I tell him all of that, anyway? Lyra's eyes flickered back to Finrod's face. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, a mirror of her own uncertainties, that gave her pause.

"We should keep going... We are close," he said, his voice breaking through her thoughts, his attempt to change the subject not lost on her. He's hiding something too, Lyra confirmed to herself, a flicker of understanding passing between them.

"Right," she replied simply, her tone guarded as she fell into step beside him once more.

With Lyras reply, The duo kept heading across the bridge, I shouldn't dig so hard... stupid! I just cant bring myself to trust anyone...anymore... He thought to himself. Wanting to know more still about the young Elf, but afraid to ask more questions, Finrod continues in silence.

After crossing the bridge they come to a slight rock slope off the side of the road, the waterfalls in sight, The mighty roar of the water gushing over the falls drowns out the noise of the wilderness nearby. Why are you bringing her here... Finrod thinks to himself... feeling like hes not in control, he just knows this is where they must speak. "I...I am sorry for asking such personal questions Lyra.." He said with a remorseful tone. The sun starting to set behind the distant mountains creates an amazing glow in the air. "Ready for the climb?" He asks

As they approached the rock slope, the majestic roar of the waterfall echoed in the distance. The fading light of the setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, bathing everything in a warm, ethereal glow. Despite everything, it was beautiful. It had been so long since she'd taken a moment to appreciate her surroundings -- she was so used to being forced to survive against the forces of nature, she didn't often have time to gawk at it.

"It's okay," she replied softly to Finrod's apology, "We all have our secrets." And our burdens, she added silently, the weight of her own past heavy on her shoulders.

But as Finrod asked if she was ready for the climb, Lyra's eyes widened in disbelief. Ready for the WHAT? she echoed inwardly, a mixture of dread and amusement bubbling up inside her. Climb? Her hands suddenly felt fragile and soft compared to the weathered ones of her companion. She'd spent her life becoming a swift fighter, and surviving the worst that nature could throw at her, but she'd luckily avoided scaling any mountainsides. She supposed to day was the day her luck ran out. She sighed, accepting her fate. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Lets go!" Finrod said, with a playful smile! Quickly starting to climb the rock face, Finrod learned many things, good and bad during the Great War, and traversing complex terrain was certainly one of them, crossing through the mountains when the Dominion attack Burma near the end of the war. Remembering the sounds of battle, distracted Finrod, who slipped and fell a few feet, now embarrassed standing up quickly and beginning to climb once again. The Duo made the short climb, to the top, Idiot... You have made this climb 100s of times... and you slip now? wincing slightly and holding his left arm, "I just need a second to sit" Maybe she didnt think much of it "We are going just down there to the clearing" Finrod pointing down the gentle decline on the other side into the clearing, full of trees and bushes, river on one side, mountain face on the other, pure bliss and isolation, a small camp Finrod set up months back The river glistening in the coming moonlight This is the only place I trust to be alone

Relief washed over Lyra at Finrod's playful tone, breaking through the somber face he'd been wearing in all the hours she'd known him. So there's a spark of life in him after all, she mused, a small grin tugging at her lips.

The climb proved to be more exhilarating than Lyra had anticipated. She felt a surge of pride as she navigated the rugged terrain, her agile movements betraying the grace and strength honed through months of survival in the wild. When a slippery patch threatened to send her tumbling, she gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the rock, determination fueling her ascent.

Her laughter bubbled up at the sight of Finrod's own clumsy slip, but it was quickly tempered by concern when she saw him wince in pain. Without a second thought, when they reached the top of their climb, Lyra knelt beside him, ready to inspect his injured arm. Her hands hovered for a moment, uncertain -- would touching him send us into another vision? -- before she finally, decisively, took hold of it, her touch gentle.

As she attempted to channel the healing magic she had learned years ago, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she focused her energy on easing his discomfort. Come on Lyra, you can do this, she urged herself, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her clumsy attempt.

When Finrod mentioned the clearing, Lyra followed his gaze, her eyes widening in awe at the serene landscape spread out before them. The moonlight, just making its way above the horizon, danced on the water, casting shimmering reflections that seemed to beckon them onward. So this is his sanctuary, she thought, a flicker of curiosity mingling with gratitude as she pondered the significance of this place to him.

With a nod of determination, Lyra rose to her feet, offering Finrod a reassuring smile. "Lead the way," she said, her voice resolute. A secret place that he's kept all to himself, for gods know how long. What else will he reveal?

Did she try healing me just then? So she knows some Restoration Magic?! Finrod thought, excited. Thinking back to the war, the last time he really used his magic at its fullest extent. Standing and continuing the short walk down to the camp site, Finrod sat down on a log near the rivers edge, motioning for Lyra to occupy the one next to him.

"I know what you did up the hill... thank you" Finrod said with a smile. "So a fellow member of the magic arts!?" He asked with an excited tone. Finrod then, using his destruction magic lights the small camp fire with a spell. Almost in an attempt to show off. Trying to avoid the conversation they both know is to come, Finrod normally has an answer for everything... so not knowing what or why the visions were, is eating away at him. Glancing back at Lyra with a smile, the warmth of the fire feels good with paired up with the cool evening breeze.

Lyra followed Finrod to the clearing, her cheeks still tinged with embarrassment over her failed attempt at healing magic. Note to self: practice that more, she scolded herself inwardly, resolving to hone her skills once she had some privacy and access to some magic books.

She ignored Finrod's nod toward her own log near his, plopping herself right next to him on his, and waved off his compliment with a self-deprecating grin, her cheeks flushing once more. "Oh, that? It was nothing, really..." she muttered, her gaze flickering nervously to the ground.

Her attention was drawn to Finrod as he effortlessly conjured flames with a flick of his hand, a display of power that left her in awe. I wish I could do that, she thought wistfully, suppressing the urge to ask him to teach her.

"So, a fellow member of the magic arts?"

She nodded, determined to impress him and alleviate her former mistake, holding up a finger for him to be patient while she closed her eyes and focused on her next spell, her brow furrowing once more with concentration.

With a flourish of her hand, she attempted to cast Raise Zombie, a spell she had practiced extensively on small animals in the past. However, her confidence faltered as she sensed the presence of the nearby dead rabbit, and her spell went awry. The bones of the dead rabbit she had chosen raised from the ground before them and rearranged themselves in a grotesque manner, a shape nowhere near what a rabbit should look like, with all the parts in the wrong places. Then, the creature released an agonized screech, collapsing to the ground in a heap and eliciting a horrified gasp from Lyra.

Great, she thought, her cheeks burning. He definitely thinks I'm an idiot now.

But there was no time to dwell there, as she watched Finrod closely, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "We can't avoid the topic forever,' she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "You saw something too, didn't you? Tell me what it was."

Watching Lyra attempt to use conjuration magic was quite a sight... I wonder if she would be open to me teaching her some magic Finrod thought, then a quick glimpse to the past, a vision of a High Elf standing guard over a group of Imperial Soldiers, Screams echoed, as the man, using destruction magic spit flames from his hands, killing the unarmed prisoners... Anger overtook Finrod, holding back tears, he clears his throat, hearing Lyras questions about the earlier events inside the Tavern.

Trying to hide the emotion from his visions from the war he replies, "I did... and I can not explain it..." thinking if he should tell Lyra everything or not, "I cant explain it... I just... I saw an image of The Blades... I saw a temple, It might have been the Sky Haven Temple..." His voice breaking, unable to hold back the tears from before, one slowly trickles down his face, attempting to hide it, he wipes it away. "I... I dont know why... but..." Hesitating I feel like we are connected somehow Finrod thinks without saying it outloud... Watching Lyra for any hint or gesture of her feelings towards the awkward situation...

I want to tell her everything... Finrod said, but he means his past, and not just of the visions they shared. But why... I dont know her... why do I trust her... Finrod looked towards the sky, as if looking for a devine sign of some kind. Lost in thought he keeps looking up, forgetting he has anyone with him, as he never brings anyone to this place. Tucked away just enough, but close to home...

What would she think if she knew of my past... the things I have done... the reasons I cant go home... Clearly emotional now, Finrod continues to look into the sky

Lyra listened intently as Finrod recounted his experience, her brow furrowing in confusion at the mention of The Blades and the Sky Haven Temple. "I'm not sure I've heard of those things before..." she admitted, embarassed by her lack of knowledge, "Could you... explain a bit more?"

She couldn't help but feel disappointed that their visions weren't the same. She had hoped that perhaps they would have seen similar things, that it would provide some sort of clarify. But now, it all just felt even more confusing. Why us? Why now?

Her gaze flickered up to meet Finrod's for a moment, noticing the tear that he quickly wiped away. She pretended not to notice, casting her eyes downward and feeling a wave of discomfort. It was clear that this man had been through a lot, and she felt a twinge of guilt for intruding on his life like this.

"I saw something different," she confessed finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "Visions of my own past... a moonlit ruins that seemed to lead into a dungeon, and strange symbols that I didn't understand." She shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. "I don't know what any of it means, but I was hoping... maybe our visions were connected somehow."

She hesitated another moment, unsure of how to continue. But then, summoning her courage, she spoke again. "The voice in my vision... it told me that you are essential to my 'journey', whatever that means." She let out a nervous laugh, attempting to lighten the mood. "So I guess we're stuck with each other, huh? At least for now."

Finrod still lost in his own mind, thoughts racing...visions, memories, sounds, flying through his head, broken by the sound of Lyras voice, and then her laugh, Finrod with a slight smile in response to Lyras laugh, "The Blades... they are..." Finrod corrects himself "Were.. a group of fearless soldiers, sworn to protect the Emperor of Tamriel...The Skyhaven Temple was their base in Skyrim" Hesitating to continue...

Do I tell her everything?... I cant... "They... were no more after the Great War ended some 25 years ago..." "You spoke of strange symbols... they sound like it may be the symbols I saw as well... Carved into the stone in the temple..." Finrod hesitates to continue once more, the knowledge he has, is not known by many "If its what I think it is, its an ancient language, carved into stone blocks around many places in Skyrim..."

Finrod clears his throat, attempting to hide his scared nature of the situation... "The ruins you saw may very well be one of these ancient crypts where the language is carved... I heard a deep voice, that repeated the word 'Fated' I dont know what it means either..."

Are we meant to aid each other on these adventures? Its the only thing I can make of us both having similar... but different visions Finrod thought, afriad to say that out loud, not being used to relying on others. "We are safe here... the magic protects us" Not wanting to go into detail on the magic at work "So, if we are fated to work together... what is our next move...?" I wonder if they Greybeards can shed some light on the strange symbols... they are after all the last keepers of the ancient texts Finrod with a deep gaze into Lyras eyes, almost afraid of what her answer may be. And what is the story with this girl? Why her, why are we seemingly connected?

Lyra rose from her spot on the log, her mind swirling with thoughts and possibilities. She paced back and forth, trying to make sense of everything Finrod had just told her. The Blades, protectors of the emperor... temples...ruins... ancient languages. It was all so much to take in.

She stopped pacing and turned to face Finrod, her expression serious. "So, we have a choice to make," she began, her voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling within her. "We can either take the time to do some research, try and piece together what we saw and figure out our next move ... or we could just dive right in and head straight to the Skyhaven Temple, since that's pretty much all we have to go off of right now." She paused, her gaze searching Finrod's face for any hint of what he might be thinking.

"Of course, there's also a third option," she continued, her voice dropping slightly. "We could walk away from all of this, pretend like none of it ever happened, and go our separate ways." She hesitated, a pang of sadness tugging at her chest. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to choose that option, even though she wasn't entirely sure she trusted him yet.

As she glanced around at the darkening sky, she realized they would need to make a decision soon. "It's getting late," she said, a note of concern creeping into her voice, "I'm not sure if we'll be able to make it back to the city safely before nightfall. We might need to camp out here." She bit her lip, unsure of everything. 24 hours ago, she would never have imagined she would be standing here, with him, and what they might be about to embark on. But she knew whatever lay ahead of her, she would face it.

Finrod listen to the options Lyra has laid out, thinking... I dont know what to do... Afraid of the truths that may come to light if he took her to the temple... We really should try to figure out where her vision was... which crpyt or dungeon was she seeing and why?

"I am not sure... It is a dangerous road to the Skyhaven Temple, I know that... and I feel its only half of the puzzle.. We need to learn what dungeon you were seeing, and where it is, its connected somehow.. It has to be... right?" What if she finds out the truth about the temple...

"I dont think we can ignore this... something... something inside me felt... off when you suggested it... I cant explain the feeling" Its almost like that force was yelling at me not to agree to option 3 Finrod thought to himself.

"You are right, we would never make it back tonight, Ill gather some more firewood for the night" Can I trust this girl? What are you thinking! Finrod becoming agitated with himself for allowing himself to trust someone he knows nothing about so easily... "Ill be back shortly with the wood... I would like to hear as much detail as you can remember about the dungeon you saw, maybe we can pinpoint the location?"

Lyra listened carefully as Finrod weighed their options, and she tilted her head slightly in confusion. Why wouldn't we just go to the Skyhaven Temple? It seemed like the most straightforward choice to her. When he mentioned the dangers of the road, she felt a spark of indignation. Did he doubt her abilities just because she was a girl?

As Finrod expressed he wanted to pinpoint the dungeon she had seen in her vision, Lyra's insecurities flared. There were countless ruins scattered throughout Skyrim, how were they supposed to pinpoint the one she had seen? She was worried that her memory of the details might fail her, leading them astray.

But despite her doubts, she was relieved that he wanted them to stick together. The thought of facing whatever lay ahead alone was too daunting to bear.

When Finrod mentioned gathering firewood, Lyra nodded in agreement. "Sure, go ahead," she said, mustering a small smile. "But why bother with all of that? Can't you just conjure a campfire out of thin air, since you're such an expert mage?" she chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

He headed off to gather wood, and Lyra took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She wanted to attempt to communicate with the voice from her vision. "Goddess... or whatever you are," she murmured, her voice a whisper, "Show me the ruins again." But her efforts were met with silence, and she was jolted out of her concentration by the sound of branches snapping nearby.

Instinctively, Lyra drew her mace and whirled around, ready to defend herself. But her tension eased when she realized it was just a fox, scampering away into the underbrush. She let out a shaky breath, feeling foolish for her paranoia. Get a grip, she scolded herself silently, shaking her head.

I think I like this girl Finrod thought to himself, letting out a small chuckle. She is a curious one thats for sure... Finrod gathering enough wood to burn throughout the night while the duo slept, thinking to himself

I dont know if I can go back to the temple...I cant forgive myself... how can I expect anyone else to understand what Ive done Finrod lost in thoughts of the past Its all the reason I fled the Dominion in the first place... Finrod... feeling like he wants to tell Lyra the truth... that maybe she might understand... but then maybe not.. War is a terrible thing, and does terrible things to good people... How could someone who has never been to war understand this...? This is why I never let anyone get close...

The wind blowing a majestic breeze through the trees, Finrod returns to the camp with firewood. Setting the pile down neatly near the campfire, tossing a few pieces onto the almost spent embers from earlier. "This should be enough to last us the night, this way I wont have to spend all night awake using magic!" Finrod said with a chuckle, and smile.

Finrod sits down near the fire, with the colder night temperatures setting in. "Lyra..." Finrod with hesitation Dont open up you idiot! You dont know her at all! thinking to himself "nevermind... we should try to rest, regardless of what path we take tomorrow, I think we have a long road ahead of us..." I wanna know how she feels about the journey ahead... why she seems to trust me "I have some mead in my bag if you want some? I always loved a great mead, with a warm fire to wind down with"

Lyra watched as Finrod returned to the camp with firewood, a small smile playing on her lips at his chuckle. Despite the uncertainty of their situation, there was a strange comfort in their shared laughter.

As Finrod mentioned the temple again, Lyra noticed the pained expression that flickered across his face, and she felt a pang of sympathy. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him somehow, but she hesitated, unsure if it was her place.

The warmth of the fire and the cool night air created a soothing atmosphere, and Lyra found herself drawn to the flames, lost in her own thoughts. She glanced up as Finrod spoke her name, her curiosity piqued by the hint of hesitation in his voice.

But before she could respond, he suggested they rest, and she nodded in agreement. "Oh. Yeah, you're right," she said softly, a note of weariness in her voice. "We'll need all the energy we can get for tomorrow."

At the mention of mead, Lyra's eyes brightened, and she nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect," she said, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I can't think of anything better right now."

Nestled by the crackling fire, Finrod reveled in the warmth that contrasted the chilly night air. The dancing flames cast flickering shadows on the log against which he leaned. He grabbed a bottle of Honningbrew Mead from his pack

Taking a thoughtful sip, Finrod couldn't help but let out an audible sigh of contentment. "There's something magical about the Honningbrew Mead." A twinkle in his eye reflecting the flickering flames.

Passing the mead bottle to Lyra, he gestured towards the expansive darkness beyond the fire's glow. "Feel that crispness in the air? It's as if the night itself is whispering secrets." There's a unique sense of safety – a haven amidst the vast wilderness in this place.

Finrod unsure of what to talk about, but wanting to break the silence between passing of the bottle, asking awkwardly "So Lyra, What kind of Mead do you enjoy most" What kind of mead do you enjoy? What kind of question was that... avoiding eye contact He takes another sip

As the night deepened, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape, Lyra knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. The moon bathed everything in a serene luminescence, creating an atmosphere that was both haunting and beautiful. She glanced at Finrod, noting the way the firelight danced across his features, casting shadows that seemed to flicker with secrets of their own.

At his mention of the mead's supposed magic, Lyra chuckled softly to herself. Magic and wonder were concepts she had long since dismissed. The only magic she believed in now was the kind that could be learned from the pages of a book.

Taking the bottle from Finrod, Lyra took a long sip, the sweet taste dancing on her tongue. The warmth of the alcohol chased away the chill of the night air. When he spoke of the night whispering secrets, she looked around, as if expecting the darkness to reveal its hidden truths.

At his question about her preferred mead, Lyra laughed, a sound that echoed around them. "I think we're beyond discussing mead preferences," she teased, playfully nudging him with her elbow, "But if you must know, I'm not much of a drinker. Too many memories tied to it." She'd seen what alcohol made people do. She wasn't a fan.

She trailed off, her expression momentarily clouded with the memories she'd rather forget. Shaking her head, she focused on the present, handing the bottle back and standing to unroll her bedroll near the fire. She settled herself back on the log, glancing at Finrod, her gaze lingering for a moment before she spoke again.

"Do you think it's safe here?" she asked, her voice quiet in the stillness of the night. "Or should we take turns keeping watch? I couldn't sleep if I tried, I can take the first shift."

Lyra's playful nudge, a welcomed balm to Finrod's lingering unease, sparked a flicker of genuine warmth. He still found it challenging to fully trust others, the scars of past betrayals running deep.

"I find solace in the wilderness; the city's hustle is not always to my liking," he confessed, his gaze meeting Lyra's with a genuine concern. "If being out in the wilderness makes you uneasy, I'm more than willing to keep watch. Your comfort matters."

Attempting to create a haven for her in his sanctuary, Finrod extended the offer, "It's your call, Lyra. I want you to feel at ease here." A silent promise echoed in his eyes, a commitment to safeguard the sanctuary they had found in the midst of the night.

Then, as if the weight of unspoken pain pressed upon him, Finrod hesitated, his words catching in his throat. "Sometimes, the quiet of the wilderness is the only escape from...," he began, only to abruptly cut himself off. A stern internal dialogue unfolded, urging him to silence.

Enough, he scolded himself, realizing he might have unraveled too much. Hastily rising, he unrolled his bedroll, momentarily breaking the shared vulnerability. "Perhaps I've been too open," he admitted, as if the moonlit night itself witnessed his internal conflict.

Glancing back at Lyra, he found comfort in the moonlight reflecting in her eyes, a silent reassurance that vulnerability was a shared bond, not a solitary burden.