Kaliri stood, frozen in dream. The Argonian hissed at her, baring its teeth as it pulled a bloodied sword from the limp body at its feet. The lizard kicked the head of the body on the ground, its individual identity unknown to Kaliri, but she couldn’t help but feel some semblance of recognition. Those ornate robes, the face shrouded in shadow but somehow still familiar.

She heard sobbing, only realizing it was her once the lizard began walking towards her. Her magicka was completely drained, the charred corpses of at least four of the beasts lay crumpled at her feet. One of them had gotten too close for comfort, managing to cut the tendons in her right leg before she’d forced a fireball down its throat. She was bleeding heavily, she could tell. There was a healing potion in the cupboard, but the damn lizard was in the way. 

It got closer. She had no way of running, no way of fighting. Her magicka was spent. She’d not had to lift a blade in self defense before today, and the lizard was clearly adept with them. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pulled herself away. 

Dreams usually didn’t have too much physical sensation. But Kaliri felt every agonizing second as the lizard took its time with her. It pushed the blade into her chest slowly, ever so slowly, clearly savoring the pain it was causing her. She - the woman whose memories she was watching, had never owned a slave in her life, and yet the lizard was butchering her all the same. 

She started coughing blood, her lungs filling with her own fluids as the lizard ripped its blade out of her body before walking away, letting her bleed out on the floor.

She tried to scream, but her mouth would not open. She felt as her host died, just like she had every other time she saw this memory. The sensation of hot blood streaming down her skin chilled her to the bone. 

With a flash the scene changed, the din and clamor of battle filled her ears as a young altmer gasped and collapsed, sliding off her blade with a sickeningly wet sound.

A cry met her ears and she whirled around, eyes widening in horror as a Bosmer riddled a young Breton man she had come to regard as a friend with arrows. Kaliri stood, paralyzed again, as her friend gasped his last, the Bosmer’s hateful glare matched only by her own helpless anguish as she was forced to relive the moment again. 

She was unfrozen, yet had no control over her actions as her past self ran forward, casting desperate fireballs at the Bosmer before the world went black.

…

Light pushed its way into her awareness, long shadows lurked in the corners of her vision, still replicating the last moments of friends and foes alike.

Kaliri shut her eyes, not wanting to see anymore.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably just a few minutes, she cracked her eyes open again. She was at inn. Relatively safe. Nobody was trying to kill her at the moment. Checking the small magical doohickey she’d made one day, her eyes widened as she realized she’d been out cold for a solid two days. It was still a mystery to her how she managed to function normally after being deprived of water for two days straight, as this wasn’t the first time this had happened, and almost assuredly would not be the last. She speculated it was something like the hibernation many animals went into during the winter. 

Whatever the reason, she was awake now, and for once rested. The events of the past few days slowly filtered back to her conscious memory. 

With a start she flew out of the bed, grabbing her sword and an innocuous letter and racing out of her room. The innkeeper didn’t seem too pleased to see her barely clad form racing around, babbling frantically about Kamals and Windhelm. She had arrived at the city a few days ago only to find it under siege by the snow demons. How she knew their name she wasn’t sure, probably found it in some old text or something. Unwilling to risk getting too close, she had traveled to Dawnstar and anxiously awaited news of the siege. Apparently her fatigue must've gotten the best of her, seeing how she had fallen asleep soon after.

“Windhelm!” She interrogated the innkeeper, heedless of the discomfort her unclothed state must’ve been causing. Repeating the process with anyone else who didn’t shoo her off, she finally got an answer - the city had fallen, but a group of escaped survivors had just arrived in the town.

Kaliri bolted outside, still clutching her sword in one hand and the letter in the other. The frigid temperatures didn’t register initially, and she raced into the snow in just her undergarments, stopping just outside of the door as she took in the beleaguered survivors. 

She raced into their midst, searching for any familiar faces. She wouldn’t be able to stand it if Leif’s face appeared in her nightmares. She’d lost too many friends already.

Rushing back inside, she froze again, unrelated to the temperatures outside, as she saw a familiar face not far away. Leif was alive, it seemed. A wave of relief washed over her, and she bolted for the man, tackle-hugging him. “You’re alive!” She shouted gleefully, the night’s terrifying visions fading away in the surge of joy she felt.