Ariin stepped out of Breezehome into the brightening skyrim morning, shrugging into a thickly padded long coat and fastening the belt over the supple leather garment under it. they were unmistakably fine, a gift from the Jarl. Apparently it was impolite to wear armour stained in dragon's blood around town. Shading narrowed eyes she glanced back through the still open door at her Housecarl. "Sit! Stay!" she said grinning, pointing out the chairs near the large fire pit that dominated the open room or the first floor.

The other woman's face hardened. "I am not a dog, My Thane" Lydia said stiffly.

"Siiiiiiit…."

A heavy sigh escaped her as the Nord dropped heavily into the chair "As you wish, my Thane"

"Good girl." Ariin barely contained the grin from changing to full fledged laughter, it was just too fun to tweak Her Housecarl's nose. Ariin turned towards the market, on the other side of the district. "Just be grateful I do not ask you to roll over" the Thane said over her shoulder as she set off, a small bag bounced in her left palm and she tucked it into her purse on her belt - Arcadia's frost salts chilled her skin even through her fur.

The city of Whiterun was comprised of three districts, the Plains, Wind, and the Cloud districts. rough walls of stone and wood separated each district. The plains District housed the Whiterun markets, the lifeblood of the city and the hold. It's central location in Skyrim makes it ideal for trade. The Wind District was mostly residential, the exceptions being the Gildergreen tree and Jorrvaskr, the mead hall of the Companions, an ancient group of warriors. The last of the districts is the Cloud, it's sole occupant, the massive Dragonsreach. The Jarl's palace towers over the rest of Whiterun, perched atop a huge stony outcropping. Rumors say that it was built to imprison a dragon.

Ariin strode towards the markets at a lazy pace, tail gently swishing back and forth, eyes distant in deep thought. Her ears twitched nervously. Was Lydia convinced? She seemed to accept the answers that Ariin supplied, falsified as they were. I just wish I could remember the right ones Ariin thought dully, scrubbing her hand over her ears to still them. The first thing she remembered was waking up on that wagon headed to Helgen. Helgen... Ariin's tail stiffened, pointing to the ground, and her ears flattened themselves on her skull as the memories came back unbidden. Screaming and fire, the smell of blood and cooked flesh clogging her nostrils. Ariin's chest heaved, gulping huge breaths. She was going to die, how could she survive against that? How could she - Ariin's nightmare fled as her shoulder bumped into another's. she reacted on instinct, hands moving to steady the other person.

" Watch it! you filthy mongrel! you nearly knocked me over!" Ariin focused on the face behind the shoulder she was holding onto. Dark eyes narrowed into furious slits regarded her contemptuously, and equally dark skin contorted into a mask of fury. Ariin stepped back quickly, hand dropping onto her steel dagger, this man may not be a Nord, but Skyrim didn't lend itself to resolving grievances with calm discussions.

One look at the man, however, and the dagger belted to his waist, and Ariin relaxed. Fine clothes, at least as fine as her own gifted attire. The dagger's wooden hilt looked new, but the guard and scabbard was old, scuffed and beaten. Not often held, and its owner was unused to it, forgot about it and knocked it off things often. How did I know that? The thought flickered in the back of her mind, like a mosquito buzzing just inside earshot.

shaking her head out of her reverie, Ariin fanned her hands out in front of her, "my apologies, I was lost in thought, master…?"

"Nazeem." he said, frowning even more, as though insulted she did not already know. "I own Chillfurrow farm, and advise the Jarl. I'm very Important in this city." All delivered in a tone dripping in condescension and arrogance. Ariin suddenly did not like this man.

"Master Nazeem" Ariin said graciously, tilting her head forward slightly, a gesture easily mistaken for a small bow, and wove her way around the frowning Redguard. It was easier to simply move around obstacles such as this man. Jabbing a claw into his eye might be fun, but Arrin had no wish to anger her hosts, as hurting Nazeem might do.

Ariin spent the rest of her short journey wreathed in thought. who was I? how did I know those things about Nazeem? was I even right about him? He didn't seem very dangerous, but maybe it was just an old sheath and a new dagger? Ariin wove her way through the markets, oblivious to the vendors shouting their wares and the customers inspecting them. She scrubbed her hand through her hair, cut short and nearly indistinguishable from the rest of her fur. By the Nine I don't know anymore. The thoughts dwindled to a dull buzz in the back of her head as Ariin stepped through the door to Arcadia's Cauldron.

The shop took up the entirety of the simple two story building. The walls lined with shelves covered in alchemical ingredients and potions, and a small laboratory table set against the far corner. A large fire burned in the center hearth of the shop, driving off the worst of the chill. Arcadia herself stood behind a broad counter, which shared the same fate as the wall shelves.

Arcadia looked up from a large book open upon the counter, a small smile accented slight wrinkles at her eyes, and she brushed a errant lock of hair, still unbroken brown, behind an ear. " How can I help you?" she asked, closing the book gently.

"I have a delivery from Farengar" Ariin said, skirting the large fireplace in the centre of the room and unceremoniously dropping the chilled bag on the counter.

Arcadia smiled broadly at the bag "Ah, splendid, splendid." picking up the bag and juggled it from hand to hand, "It's for a special brew I'm working on. A love elixir like none other." Her smile deepened, broadening wrinkles at her mouth and eyes. "Maybe I'll test it on Farengar first…" she trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. "Oh, but I suppose you expect some compensation." setting the bag down Arcadia disappeared behind the counter, the clinking and rattling of heavy glass bottles marked her ascent. She reappeared with an armful of bottles of various colours "Um…" she hesitated, unsure of how to safely deposit the bottles onto the counter. A after a moment she slowly lowered her whole body down so that her arms were level with the counter and let go. she straightened, a pleased look on her face. she regarded the collection for a moment, then push three very dissimilar bottles at Ariin. "Here, these potions should suffice."

Ariin looked at the three bottles, each one unique to the others. Ariin hefted the smallest of the three, a small angular bottle filled to the brim with a fluid the colour of sun bleached bone. "What do they do?" she asked.

Arcadia pointed to the closest bottle, a bulbous thing the colour of dull amber. " This one will make any Illusion spells you cast while under it's influence stronger. Not much stronger" she said admittedly. " but It can make the difference in a pinch". She moved on to the second bottle on the counter, a smooth bottle of deep emerald. "This one will allow you to fight longer, or run further, in essence it just increases your overall stamina." The first of the three was useless to her, she had no aptitude for magic besides a basic fire spell that nearly everybody knew, but the second sounded like it could be useful. This alchemy stuff is rather interesting.

Ariin bounced the final bottle in her hand, "and this one?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"This one." Arcadia said, taking the bottle from Ariin and cradling it gently in her palms. "will turn you invisible" the satisfaction in her voice could have been cut with a knife.

Ariin nodded thoughtfully, but she gaped internally. That was indeed useful. with this…the guards would never even see me. wait, what guards? Ariin shook her head, shaking loose her thoughts. Now was not the time. "how long?" she asked, taking back the bottle.

"not long" Arcadia said, frankly, pink gently tainted her cheeks. "About 15 heartbeats." she said, counting on her finger tips. "As long as you're not scared for your life" she finished with a laugh.

Ariin laughed politely, then busied herself in collecting the bottles while she internally counted 15 heartbeats. Arcadia was right, it wasn't very long, but more than enough save her life if it came down to it. Ariin's belt pouch bulged and dragged at her belt as the bottles went in, and it swang alarmingly as she walked, forcing her to keep a hand on it as she said her goodbyes and briskly walked out of the Cauldron and back to breezehome, trailed by the sound of clinking glass.

Each step Ariin took rattled the potions in her pouch, each step made the same rattle. The repetitive sounds soon became comforting, keeping the doubts of her past at bay. 'klink ka-klink', another step, 'klink ka-klink', one more. the steady sounds filled her mind, the sharp clack of glass, the dull rattle of gold, all blended together in her mind. Wait, gold? I don't have any-. A quick search of her person found the source of the sound, a small money purse of dark velvet, embroidered heavily. Ariin held the purse up in the sun, revealing a small name stitched into the top in gold thread.

Nazeem.

Ariin's eyes widened and her ears flattened themselves as she saw the name, and hurriedly stuffed the purse out of sight under her coat. When had she-? how had-? Panic mounted, Ariin desperately clawed her way into the void, It took nearly a full minute that morning, this time it was nearly twice that. Slowly, like a pool of molasses, calm crept through her. Ariin clung to the emptiness, a small raft in a flood of panic. Ariin's hand grasped the wrought iron door handle of breezehome, wrapped in the void as she was she barely felt the frigid metal against the bare pad of her hands. A single thought flickered around the edges of the void, so far away it seemed to almost be another's.

Who was I?