Clementine 1
Darkness. Peace. She was cold, floating in an endless void of nothing, but that felt okay. Up above her, from thousands of miles away, a light appeared and shone down upon her. The light represented warmth, but also conflict.
And fear.
She couldn't have said how she knew that, but she did. As much as she wanted to go back to that dreamless sleep in the dark, she also wanted to taste that conflict again, knowing there was blood to be spilled. The dark was a perfect place to hide, but she could never find prey here, in the darkness. Safety forever, or the chance to strike back?
Why was that so important?
She couldn't answer that question either, but she knew it was important. The light began to recede off into that infinite distance, and she knew the awful truth: she didn't have long to decide. Seizing the warm light with both hands and as much strength she could muster, it took everything she had to not let go. The darkness retreated from around her. Pure, brilliant white light took its place.
With a horrible gasping cough, stale air was expelled with force from her body. Heaving down precious lungsful of air, it took all the force of will she could muster to not cough. Everything hurt, but she had to open her eyes, to see where she was.
"There she is, at last. For a moment, I thought you were about to reject the chance at new life," a voice spoke, just beside her ear.
The gentle light of a torch touched her eyes as soon as her heavy lids opened, but its brilliance reminded her of the blinding light and the pain that still made every nerve in her body sing. Seeing the flame dance and twist brought back the memories and the terrible truth with it.
It was only then that Clementine was able to laugh at last, but it only came out as a weak girlish giggle. She was as weak as a kitten, but that only made sense. That Gods damned monster… "I thought that maybe it was the thing that killed me," Clementine answered softly to… whoever it was that woke her from the sleep of death. "Where am I?" Her voice was rough and hoarse from disuse.
The man spoke again, and she could make out that it was, in fact, a man's voice now. "Someplace discrete. You are safe here, I assure you of that, Clementine. Khajiit was a failure, and you are the only witness left with enough pieces that you could be brought back."
"Safe? No, you don't understand, nowhere is safe! Tell me I am out of E-Rantel," she demanded, trying to get her eyes to focus on her 'savior', knowing there was no such thing.
"Yes, we are back in the Empire. Friendly territory, or such that we can manage. A little time has passed since your demise. It was not easy stealing away with your body for such a great distance. It was decided that with the traveling distance, it would be easier to let you sleep. Awakening you would make you less easy to handle, I am sure you understand." She could practically feel the smirk in his voice.
Oh yes, I understand well enough. Despite the weakness that clung to her form, her mind was fighting tooth and nail to keep running. She knew she was not yet safe, despite the man's promises to the contrary. The Scriptures will still be agitated if Khajiit failed then the only reason I am alive is because Zuranon wants answers, but most of all, that thing in the graveyard. If it is still after me, I will die again, feel my bones break in its infinite strength. She still remembered how it moved slowly, its purpose to draw out her misery. Arms, ribs, finally spine and skull crushed, one after another. Blood dripped from nerveless fingers, oozed from her mouth because of the heavy internal bleeding. The welcoming arms of death had been a happy release. Not even monsters could chase you into death, or so she hoped. This one made her question even that surety.
Instead of answering the man, she closed her eyes and made to seem that she had drifted off to sleep, keeping vigilant to not succumb. "I understand, you must be exhausted. Rest now and be at peace. Tomorrow we will reach our destination and I am certain the Executive will be happy to hear from you. Or are you asleep already?" He moved the torch closer, to get a better look. Clementine was tempted to peek her eyes open, to try and get a look at the man's hooded face, but the risk was too high, so she remained still. "Don't worry, my lady. The truth will be known, soon enough. Rest in gentle repose." Almost tenderly, she felt a finger brush a lock of hair away from her eyes.
The sound of his footsteps receding was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard, but his words spoken to her 'sleeping' form did not promise anything good. An Executive? Doom, writ large, she knew.
After a few moments of silence, Clementine opened her eyes to see where she was. Wooden timbers surrounded her on four walls. She could see that she was in bed, and it was still night time. Through a window, she could see the makings of a camp, a few tents with a cookfire at the center. It, like the torch, reminded her of the flames that danced in the monster's eyes.
Gods, I don't even know what to call that thing, but all it had for eyes were red flames where it should have had eyes! Despite herself, those terrifying moments came rushing back, like floodwater that broke against its barriers. The moments of her death had been few, but felt so long now, looking back on it. Feeling one bone after another shatter and splinter in unnatural ways, forcing her to scream in a primal, desperate instinct to get aid. Tears slid slowly down the side of her face as she remembered the searing agony that blocked out the last few lines the thing spoke, too overwhelmed with fear and pain to remember. For a moment, all she could do was let the silent cry make her tremble and shiver in her bed, biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood, to keep herself silent. The sound of her sobbing could attract unwanted attention.
After the fit passed her by, she knew what must be done. She forced herself to the edge of the bed. It was only then she realized that she was naked. Clementine spent long years serving the Theocracy as a soldier, a warrior, and an assassin. Her nakedness did not bother her anymore, but it raised another issue she had to deal with. Her eyes were used to the darkness, but she did not have Darkvision like many monsters of this world, so she was only able to use the light that came from the night sky to aid her. Thankfully it was a clear night; the stars were out and the moon showed its face, and she did not appear to be in a heavily forested area, so no trees could steal away what precious little light she had to work with.
Thankfully her gear had been left in this cabin, the starlight illuminating her possessions, everything she had left in this dark world. As she stood, her legs threatened to buckle beneath her, but she managed to stabilize herself. Making her way to the pile of her goods left on the floor, she dropped to her knees to slowly begin preparing herself. It was with a dull recognition that she saw her own blood splattering the inside of her gear. It didn't stop her from dressing.
As much as she had wanted to, she could not have hoped to escape the Theocracy with the divine artifacts granted to mankind by the Gods. Even the Black Scripture was not given full freedom of the use of those items. Each piece of gear was guarded jealously by the half-elf that stood vigil over the Treasury. Still, what she had absconded away with was by no means trash gear. It was still powerful enough to make even adamantium ranked adventurers green with envy. As each piece slipped into place, she felt some of her old strength returning. Remembering how many adventurers she managed to hunt and slay with these items made an honest smile blossom on her face.
But there was still a problem. Her weapons were missing. Either her 'rescuers' did not want her to have them, or they had not been able to retrieve her stilettos or her prized morning star. Somehow, she feared that her killer chose to keep the weapons as some kind of trophy for killing her. She understood the impulse to keep a little memento of those she had hunted, but the thought that her weapons were being used in such a way sickened her. Still, there was nothing for it. She needed something else, if only as a temporary weapon. Before she could begin to look around the cabin, Clementine heard someone approaching. She flung herself into a dark corner behind the door so that whoever entered would have their back to herself.
The wooden door opened quietly. The target was female and clearly no fighter. Dressed as a camp follower, it was clear this person was a lowly servant for its betters. She had a torch in one hand and what seemed to be fresh wool clothes in the other. Seeing the empty bed, the servant began to look around in confusion. Thankfully, Clementine saw she had a dagger at her hip. A pathetic thing, but it will have to do.
In one single, swift movement, Clementine closed the wooden door, stood, grabbed the dagger from its leather sheathe, moved that dagger to the woman's throat, and quickly secured the torch, lowering it to reduce the visibility of anything happening in the cabin. A surge of pride filled Clementine, knowing that she still had the power to overcome prey even in her weakened state. The whole movement happened in less than the blink of an eye. With the cold steel of the dagger pressed against the woman's throat, she felt the woman shiver but went very still.
"Nice night isn't it? For a servant, you have very bad manners though! Why, you didn't even knock. Let me guess, you hoped to get an eyeful of me before I got clothes on?" Oh yes, this is how life is supposed to feel! With a quiet giggle, Clementine told herself to focus; things were still dangerous. "I'll tell you what, answer my questions, keep quiet, and I'll forgive your bad manners. Try to scream or run in any way and I'll open your throat. Give me a little nod if you understand?" She pressed the blade closer to her flesh make sure the message was received. The feeling of a slow trickle of warm blood on her skin filled Clementine with excitement even as she took note of the nod.
Prey, paralyzed by fear, just as it should be, she thought. "Good girl. First off," Clementine began as she took the torch away and put it out, "I assume you know my name. Tell me yours."
"Victra Veyron," the girl spoke. She was old enough to be a woman grown but somehow, she seemed too weak, too small, to be considered a woman; so as far as Clementine was concerned, this one was simply the girl. Aside from the clothes, the only thing Clementine could make out was the color of her hair, a light brown which reached past her shoulders. "Please, I am just doing as I was ordered, I will do anything you want!"
"Keep the voice down, Victra." Despite the obvious fear, the girl was obeying, so that was worth a chance. "How long have we been traveling?"
"Three days," Victra replied at once.
"How many guards are there in the camp? What is their strength?"
"Two servants, I am one of them. Three guards, little more than peasants with weapons. The hooded leader, a magic caster. Never shows his face, wears a mask, used mental magic to get us across the border." A beat. "He is the strongest, and the others are afraid of him."
Small party. Quick to travel. Keeping their footprints light as they move. "Horses? Are they guarded?" Clementine asked with a serious tone.
"Yes, two horses. One guard stays with them at all times, stop us servants from getting ideas." The girl slowly looked over her shoulder at Clementine. Softly, she said "Your hand is trembling. I just want away from these people. I know you are powerful, but vulnerable right now. Let me help you; we can get out of this together. We just need one chance, right?"
The words took Clementine by surprise. She wants to leave just as much as I do. As much as the words stung, they were true; Clementine was vulnerable at the moment. She had planned on slinking off into the night before the girl arrived, but a horse would significantly improve her odds of living. Having made up her mind, she was willing to take a chance. "If I take the blade away, you won't cry for help?"
"I swear it, by all the Gods."
Slowly, carefully, Clementine took the dagger away and with only some mild surprise the girl chose to not scream. The girl rotated in place and looked at Clementine, Victra's eyes quickly darting over Clementine's body. Finally seeing the girl, Clementine could see the girl was cute, in a common sort of way. The girl was slightly taller than herself and while not as voluptuous as herself, the girl's curves were nice all the same. Before she could spend more time drinking her in, the girl spoke up. "If I don't go back soon, they may think something is wrong."
"I have a plan," Clementine declared with a wicked grin lacing her face. "You will take a loose circuit of the camp, making sure nobody is alarmed yet. I will make my way straight for the horses, keeping myself hidden and in the shadows. We meet at the horses and I will kill the guard there. Do not take too long. If you do, I won't hesitate to leave you behind. I am no honorable knight. Your life is in your own hands now, understand?" The fatigue was catching up to Clementine and a wave of dizziness passed over her.
Before she could fall, the girl reached out to help keep Clementine upright. The feeling of the girl's touch on Clementine's shoulder and the her torso felt so much better than it should have. "Deal. But first you must get something inside you, you are walking wounded, or the next best thing I guess." Victra reached into a pocket and fished out one of the signature blue bottles of a health potion. "I know only a little of magic, even less of resurrection, but maybe this will help you. It took time to steal it without being noticed."
A potential thief in the making, I see. Without a word, Clementine took the bottle, removed the topper and downed the concoction. It wasn't near as much as she had hoped for, but she felt some vitality return to her body as the alchemy did its work. Clementine was tempted to thank the girl, but any gratitude died inside her long ago. Instead, she got the location of the horses from the girl. "Go," Clementine ordered firmly, "get ready. I strike the guard in 10 minutes; no more, no less." Clementine stuffed the vial into an empty pocket on her vest and raised the hood of her cloak.
With a nod, the girl set down the clothing she had been carrying and took off through the door, acting like nothing at all had happened. Good girl indeed.
Clementine did as she promised, sneaking through the door of the cabin a few moments after the girl. All eyes were drawn to Victra so Clementine's natural ability and skill at moving quickly and quietly paid off dearly. She made her way to the small glade where Victra claimed the horses were being kept. Soon, the horses came into her sight. Sure enough, there was only one guard as well. He wore light armor, ring mail steel draped over his tunic. If it wasn't for the steel on his body and the sword at his waist, she would have thought him a farm hand. His back was towards Clementine, brushing down one of the horses. Clementine was well within striking distance before he even caught wind of her and realized his life was in mortal peril.
Surprised and with a foe behind him, he offered little resistance to the dagger. Clem deftly and precisely stuck the blade into his throat, twisting it savagely before ripping it out again. The crimson flow seemed to surprise him and he slowly telescoped down to the grass. He had no chance to raise an alarm of any kind, much less try and fend off the surprise attack, all he managed was a soft little whimper as the final spark of life left his eyes. I didn't even need Martial Arts. Clementine thought happily as she surveyed her work. Beautiful.
The horse caught the scent of blood however and was surprised as the man's lifeless body struck the ground. Clementine always liked horses, ever since she was a child. Humans were another type of animal, full of anger and greed, love and hatred, cruelty and low cunning. Horses and most animals for that matter were not like that. They only wanted to survive and continue their line; so much more honest than any human.
Casually she stepped over the man's body without a care in the world and began to brush her hand across the beast's hide, trying to calm it. At her touch, much of the animal's fear dissipated and its big, chocolate eyes met hers. Clementine gave a smile then, a happy smile. Despite her disregard for human life, seeing an animal happy under her touch always gave her a brief hint of happiness, and animals always seemed to feel calmer at her touch. "Don't worry," Clementine whispered, "we will be done here soon enough." Clementine kept her keen senses open for any hint of detection. Finding none, she chose to bide her time.
The girl had served her purpose, a distraction. Nobody noticed that Clementine skipped out of the cabin and away from the rest of the camp, and why would they? I'm just resurrected, by rights I should be close to passing out and totally unarmed. You had a rat in your belly who served me well, Clementine thought maliciously. The other horse was here as well, letting them rest. I told the girl my intent to leave, with or without her. Her compliance had made things easy for Clementine, but Victra was nowhere in sight. Clementine did not lie, she was no honorable knight and would leave her behind without a second thought. But the girl was helpful and made this escape much easier than it would have otherwise been. She chose she would keep her word and give the girl her full 10 minutes, no more.
Clementine took the sword and the belt from her kill. It seemed to be plain steel, nothing special like orichalcum or mithril, but a steel sword was still an upgrade from a dagger, which she holstered. Quickly she grabbed the reins for both horses and just as she was about to mount Chocolate Eyes, Victra made an appearance, making a sharp turn around a tent. She was walking at a brisk pace, fast as she could without outright running. One more moment and Clementine would have left the girl to her fate, but luck was with them tonight.
As the girl approached, she handed the other set of reins to Victra. "Time to go."
Seeing nobody following the girl, she held the reins steady as she mounted. Without a word, Clementine kicked her horse into a brisk trot, but not too fast. It would not do to have her once rescuers know so soon that she intended to escape. It was with some small surprise that the girl stuck to her flank and followed her off into the darkness of the night, but Clementine said nothing.
'Away' was the only direction that mattered at first, but as the light of the camp receded into the distance, Clementine's eyes shot heavenward. The Theocracy is no longer safe for me. Zuranon was supposed to the next step but they would want me to give them answers and maybe even face that monster again, so resources be damned they are out of the picture. Baharuth is where I must go next. With that thought ringing in her ear, Clementine took a sharp left, angling herself towards the northeast. Arwintar, here I come.
To her continual surprise, the girl followed at her heels in silence. They hadn't planned what to do after escaping, but Clementine assumed she would go her own way. That is what the horse is for, after all. "Girl, why are you following me?" Clementine eventually asked, after nearly an hour of silent riding.
"I have nowhere else to go. I had been trying to track down a cousin in E-Rantel," she explained, "Ninya had become an adventurer, hoping to find her sister. Before I could meet her, some killer murdered her. It was as I was gazing at her lifeless body that the magic caster found me. He must have cast a spell, because the next thing I know, I am a prisoner in his camp, caring for your corpse and tending to his meals."
I suppose I should feel bad about that, Clementine thought, but she did not. Clementine relished her ability to squeeze every last bit of torment out of her victims; Ninya had proven to be especially gifted in this regard. Right until the last moment, she was certain salvation was on its way, and perhaps it was, for all Clementine knew.
But now, one of her victim's family members was following her, looking to her for guidance as they both just escaped the clutches of Zuranon. Something hitched in Clementine's chest. Not true remorse, she knew herself better than that, but some part of her pitied the girl. She glanced over her shoulder at her tag-along, the light of the moon painted her hay colored hair in a deep shade of silver. It is not like you to offer mercy, a dark voice murmured from the recesses of what Clementine had to assume to be her soul. No, she answered back, but I can make use of this one. Besides, if she turned out to be a problem… there is always a simple answer for that.
Finally, Clementine found the main road, nice and paved. It would be easier on the horses from here on out. The summer air was cool on her face, but she could also feel the dew of the morning begging to appear all around her. The sun will be rising soon. Glancing to the east, the clouds had begun to turn to the shades of blue of the very early morning. Clementine forced herself to stay upright in the saddle, though the gentle swaying was trying to rock her to sleep. Looking again to her side, she saw the girl still there, still wide awake.
"Girl," Clementine called out, "make sure I don't fall asleep. You seem more awake. I am recently deceased, after all. We need to go as far as we can, get as much distance as we can."
"Where are we going?" Victra led the horse closer to Clementine.
"Arwintar." Clementine couldn't hold back the yawn as it forced its way from her.
The girl closed the distance even further and reached out to touch Clementine's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll help you."
Clementine felt anger surge into her chest. "Yes you will, or else we both die if they catch up to us!" She tried and failed to again ignore just how nice Victra's touch was upon her skin. Godsdamn it, I know how to pick them, Clementine cursed herself. "Here, take your dagger back," she said instead as she fished the measure of steel out, with a small stream of blood still on it.
Finally, Victra took her hand away from Clementine, grabbing the hilt of her own dagger. Her eyes were drawn to the blood, but she did not speak right away. "Dell's blood, he seemed to be a good man."
"He is a dead man now. Give no thought for the dead, focus on the living," Clementine said with a bit more iron in her voice than she intended. "His death may well pay for your life, focus on that if you must."
She was silent after that, seemingly unable to pry her eyes away from the blood smeared across her blade. Clementine looked away, letting the girl decide what to do with it on her own. The blood of a 'good man' was on her hands and she had been raised from death's clutches for less than an hour at that point, at most. Oh, the irony the Gods play on us all, she thought as an ironic smile reached across her face.
Time passed. The road seemed to slip away. By the time the first fingers of sunlight touched Clementine, she was so close to sleep that more than once she had to catch herself from falling from the saddle. As the clouds in the east began to turn the first shades of pink, the pair topped a hill. There, off in the distance, was the shining towers of Arwintar. That was the last thing she saw as her eyes closed, just for a moment though.
Suddenly, gravity was pulling her form from the horse. She thought she was about to strike the ground beneath her when a desperate hand reached out and grabbed her arm. "That was too close, are you okay? My lady, you need to rest!" With a tug and force of will, Clementine got herself back upright on the horse.
She was no longer atop the hill. It couldn't have been more than a few moments, but she had completely fallen asleep on the horse. "Clementine," she said roughly. "My name is Clementine, and I am no noble, not anymore." With a shrug, she took her arm out of the girl's grasp.
"Fine then, Clementine. You need to rest. Our goal is in sight and we have been riding for hours. The horses are getting tired and that was the third time I had to keep you on the horse, I nearly lost you that time!"
Third? I must be more tired than I thought. "The daylight will wake me up," she lied.
"Seriously? Rest!" The girl grabbed the reins to both their horses and guided them toward a small copse of trees set in-between the hills. "I'll give the horses a chance to rest while you… stay awake. Just for a few hours."
Clementine said nothing but gave her silent consent.
The next few minutes passed her by in a blur of color. Getting off the horse, laying down on the bare earth, cool to the touch on her feverish skin. Leaning her back against a tree trunk. She didn't even remember closing her eyes, much less what happened to her horse. For what felt like the first time in years, Clementine closed her eyes and slept.
Doom was here. She was certain of that much. Glancing around, Clementine found herself in a graveyard, shrouded in mist and darkness. Before her was Death. Formless, ageless and eternal, two raging flames where a head would be on a man. Come to me, little moth, I shall take you home, the aberration said without words. Clementine remembered the cold darkness of infinite nothingness, and for the second time in her life, she was afraid.
She made to take a step back, away from Death, but each step backward only brought her closer. She opened her mouth to scream, but she was silent. Cold fear solidified in her chest, almost a physical thing as she inched closer and closer to her destruction.
Don't worry, the pain will pass, Death spoke to her again. It spread what appeared to be arms apart as if hoping to embrace Clementine as a long-lost friend, but the arms were wrong, easily three times as long as they should have been. She felt small and weak, and so angry that tears formed in her eyes, and they burned as they slowly drifted down her cheeks. When Death was so close she could almost taste it, it wrapped its arms around her, almost tender at first. But she knew better, it was a lie, an awful lie! She wept openly then, desperately wishing she had never come to this place, cursing herself for whatever madness made her ever think this was a good idea. Then it happened.
Those arms, so strong as to be unstoppable, began to tighten around her. Trapped between them, she felt her bones grind together in ways no merciful God ever intended. The first bones to break was those of her right arm, followed shortly by the left. A clean break on the left, a complex fracture on the left. The pressure slowed then, as if giving her time to let the pain wash over her mind, and she could feel the fragments jostle against one another. She let out another silent wail, but it didn't matter. She heard thunder somewhere off in the distance and the sound of hundreds of bones shattering.
The pressure resumed. Her body that she had once been so proud of screamed at her in pain. She felt her ribs fracture, splintering into tiny little fragments. Some shot out through her skin, others dug deeper. She felt something else inside being pierced and blood began to fill her chest. Seeking any escape, Clementine twisted her head to the left and to the right, hoping against hope that somehow, she could be freed.
The pressure was too much, her spine shattered next. It was almost a mercy. As nerves became severed, so much of the pain simply disappeared from her mind, but she knew it wasn't the end. For a split second, she looked Death straight in the face, trying desperately to understand its final words, but it sounded like just an indiscrete murmur to her ears. Then she focused upon the dancing flames as they grew bigger, and she felt the heat dancing upon her skin. She was not sure if it was from the blood rushing out of every unnatural hole in her destroyed torso, or perhaps the heat came from Death's flames. Just a little more, and you will be mine forever, little moth, Death whispered, as soft as a lover in her mind. Once more she threw her head back and screamed as much as she could, but only blood and silence resounded in the graveyard, but then -
Her eyes flew open, a desperate wail escaped Clementine's lips, grasping blindly for her missing weapons but came up short. Her heart was racing. Taking a moment to gather herself, she felt the phantom pain from her nightmare run through her arms and chest and shivered, remembering the dreadful fear. She wasn't sure if it was the morning dew or sweat that moistened her skin, but it felt nice upon heated flesh as the nightmare melted away.
A moment later Victra walked around a tree, concern coloring her features. "What was that? Did you scream?" Victra asked as she continued to approach.
As her heart slowed, Clementine felt her dread dissipate, at last, only to be replaced with numbness, pure numbness. Just a dream. No, a dream of a memory, she corrected herself. So very desperately she wanted to feel anything positive in this world. Anything to drive away the certain knowledge that someday, Death would find her again and his embrace would be just as painful.
Victra knelt on her knees before Clementine, understanding dawning in her brown eyes. "You had a nightmare. Gods, I didn't even think about that, dreaming about –"
Before she could continue to talk, Clementine reached her hand out, covering the girl's lips with her fingers, her own gentleness a surprise to her. "Yes," Clementine answered simply as she drew her hand back. Resting her hand against her forehead she could feel the heat billowing off her. "Fever," she said aloud. Resting her head back against the bark of the tree, she could not help but laugh at her circumstances. "I may be the first person ever to die on the same day they were resurrected!"
As her voice rebounded through the area, she was oblivious to the look of genuine concern on a nearby girl's face, knowing full well she may be seeing Death far sooner than she had expected.
*A/N: Thanks for reading. This is an experiment I've had on my mind for a while now. There are a lot of characters who seem to have just disappeared or otherwise not been seen for a good while in the Light Novel's story. This is an imagining of what might have happened to some of them. Not likely to be a very long fiction, but will have different points of view as an anthology might have. Reviews are greatly appreciated.*