Darkness. That is all my life has been, and will ever be.
It's great for hiding, obviously. Everybody knows that, be them assassin, thief, or victim. One can get away with just about anything, so long as they are armed with the shadows, and know how to wield them. How else could one suppose I've been so successful?
I brushed my fingers against my pale skin. I was standing in one of my many castle chambers, waiting by a large inscription on the ground. I cast my eyes down at the words. Some strange, ancient language radiated from the center. This is one of two such inscriptions in the castle. The other is useless to me. This, as my associates tell me, is the one that plays a key role in my search for my daughter.
She has what I need to complete my quest, but her clever mother left behind quite the confusing trail. I am on a long road to uncovering it. That is not the only obstacle. This Dragonborn should've been nothing but a thorn in my side, but the thorn is pushing deeper and deeper within me. Once this is all over, I'll be sure to make a rug out of him.
The words began to glow an unplaceable shade of green, or blue. An ocean color. The inscriptions rippled, sending wave after wave towards the center, the waves growing taller and brighter. I almost couldn't look when the orb rose with a brilliant display. A High and Dark Elf fell out from it, dragging... A body?
The Dark Elf saw me. He immediately fell to his knees, bowing his head. The High Elf only scoffed.
I broke the silence. "This is the relic you spoke of? The one that will help me find my daughter?"
"I never said that," the High Elf jabbed. "The Eye is simply a weapon for us to use, should we need it."
"What sort of thing can it do, Ancano?"
The High Elf turned towards the Eye, which was glowing and billowing above the fading inscriptions. "It is capable in unimaginable, but reckless destruction. For that reason, it should be used carefully." He turned back to me. "And only when desperate."
The Dark Elf rose to his feet to speak. "The College has witnessed it's power first-hand, my Lord."
I was unimpressed. "Hmph. Not that they were any threat."
"Quite the contrary," Ancano asserted. "That Dragonborn fool already had his fist up their ass. Unfortunately, we couldn't wipe out every last scrap of misery."
"Yes," the Dark Elf said. "The librarian escaped, and those other two cats. But barely."
I was, again, unimpressed. "They are powerless against us, especially with the Eye of Magnus at our disposal. We should have no problems."
"When desperate, Lord Harkon," Ancano reminded me.
"Indeed, Ancano," I sighed. "Let us get organized, shall we?"
"It was my father," Rodryck said after a bit of persuasion. "He was a werewolf, and a mage. He had been... 'turned' when he was too young to remember what had actually happened."
"So, you're from a family of werwolves?" I asked.
The glow from the library's fireplace flickered upon his face. "Sort of. Yeah."
I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, but I need to know the people I lead. It's not just tactical. I care about other people's problems and insecurities. "Is there more to this?"
"A bit." He shifted in his seat and looked at the dragon skull above the mantle. "It's like a monster. Odd metaphor, I know, heh... but it's a monster that's been haunting my past."
"You didn't choose it," Ri'saad said, sitting on the base of the fireplace.
"No. My father had been trying to figure out how to turn people into... into werewolves. He tried every new idea on me. I was like a test subject. A five-year-old test subject."
Ri'saad's expression tightened, and he looked down. This is worse than I had imagined.
"I guess, deep down, he wanted to know what had happened to him. He had been turned against his will by his own father. He never stopped to think that..." he stopped, choking on his words. "He was repeating history."
"He did to you what his father did to him. Like he was... continuing a cycle."
"Yeah... yeah, he was." He bent forward to pick up his goblet. "As soon as I knew how, I repressed my inner beast, but it kept trying to... break out. So I became really hasty and aggressive." He sighed and looked up at the walls. He had been holding this in for his entire life. It was a wonder how he hadn't imploded. "Anyways, that's it. I'm done."
He rose to his feet and left for the main hall. However, my gaze remained towards where he had been sitting. I wasn't sure how to process the information. I thought my past was terrible. I had lost my entire family, but my father was never monstrous enough to torture his own child. I was lucky.
A small creature brushed against my legs. I glanced down, and saw the spectral resident house cat. I turned towards Ri'saad, who was grinning in my direction. He got up to move behind my chair, then leaned against me to drape his arms over my chest.
"How many demons must I carry to finally get everything over with, Ri'saad?"
"This one isn't very wise, love, you know that. Ri'saad knows not what to say."
"I don't think I'll ever get over carrying all of these nightmarish memories. I know it helps Rodryck to open up about this, but knowing how tortured my closest friend has been is just... I don't know how to express it. All of these years, and he never told me. I never knew. I could've helped him."
"You could help him now," Ri'saad said. "It's never too late to make a difference in somebody's life, Karal'e."
The words he breathed by my neck had remained in my head for the rest of the day. My duty is to slay dragons and raid enemy camps. I exist to make a larger difference, but I'm in a great position to make differences in people's individual lives. I'm a celebrity; A lot of people take my word as the truth and trust me with their lives. I wanted to use this to create positive change. I wanted to help people by giving them a better world to live in.
Sometimes, though... I felt like I had already failed.
The damp cave echoed as I stepped further within. One after another, I lit each torch, walking deeper within the depths of the iron mine.
This place was discovered by Meranden while he was out hunting. It wasn't very far away, and looked as though someone else had carved it. It even had torch sconces left behind. After every step, the air thickened, and my path ahead became cloudier. Usually, my brother handles the mining. As his sister, I decided he could use a break, all recent events considered. These problems had been eating at him for far too long.
I knew this would do nothing to help his rash and aggressive behavior. It ran in the family, like other things. As far as lycanthropy goes, I got lucky, and most people can see that in me because of the calm facade I put up. Even so, family still rubs off. In a lot of ways, I'm just as anxious as my brother... but I tend to keep it sealed inside.
I was angry. I was furious. Fate had thrown me into a life of hard work and a constant fear for my own life, and the lives of my loved ones. How could the Eight be so cruel to the only innocent soul in my family? I tried to kick a boulder and stubbed my toe. I fell backward in pain.
"Serves you right for bottling things up for so long."
That bodiless voice again. I gasped, and threw a stone across the cave.
"Now, come ON, there's no need to be angry," he said with his usual enthusiastic squawk of a voice.
"Figures that, when I finally get some time alone, you come back," I said. I turned around as I spoke, futilely expecting some spectral child to appear. Still nothing. Always nothing.
"I never leave, you stupid milk-drinker. I'm always watching!"
"Now that's unsettling," I groaned. I picked my torch up, relit it on the nearby sconce, and continued deeper.
"Ooh! That's a pretty torch!", the spirit gasped. "Where'd ya get it?!"
"Ri'saad carved a unique torch for each of us," I explained, trying to shut it up. "Nothing special. Please, just... get lost."
After that, I didn't hear another sound from it. Thank heavens. As I held the torch up to the next sconce, I could feel the muscle in my hand as it gripped the carvings on the handle. He had crafted the pattern of blowing wind around the handle, spiraling towards the bottom tip. The base for the flame, although pretty rigid in shape, reminded me somewhat of the pattern of clouds.
Karal'e's has a pinecone design at the bottom tip, with lines of beetles leading up to opened flower petals. Of course the Dragonborn would get the most interesting one.
As I reflected on the unique wood patterns, I heard another voice calling my name. It was Meranden. He was sprinting carelessly towards me. He ran straight into me, knocking my torch onto the ground again.
"Helen! Damn it-" he exclaimed, out of breath. "Sorry... Karal'e wants everyone back at the manor."
"Really? Did something happen?"
"Don't know... Probably?" he said. "Anyway, he said it was important."
"All right, fine. Let's go."
I left the iron mine behind me, leaving the torches lit. I could probably delve deeper some other time.
"Vittoria Vici," I announced once everyone had arrived. "She is getting married in Solitude in a few days. There will be a wedding ceremony, followed by a festival in the market square. It'll be a very high-profile event."
"What you're saying is, we've been invited?" J'zargo asked.
"Sort of. It's never that simple with us." I shifted in my chair at the head of the dining table. I had grown a lot more comfortable with being the Clan leader. It's not easy to lead a clan, a business, and the front of a war. After a while, my duties grew on me. The fact that I was far from alone in it made it easier to handle. "She fears for her life. She thinks the Dark Brotherhood is after her."
"How the Hell does she even know that?" Lydia said. "They're secretive. They'd never give their plans away."
"A group called Penitus Oculatus has been investigating the growth of the Brotherhood. Maybe they found out. Anyway, that's not everything. I think you've figured out by now that we are going to be protecting her. While normal guards would usually be enough for a threat – and they will be her protection during the marriage ceremony itself – these are special circumstances. We have our own gripe with the Brotherhood." The reminder of past events caused a few members to sink in their seats. "This is a chance to follow them home, and give them what they asked for. I say we have no choice but to take it."
"Since she has protection during the ceremony," Ri'saad pointed out. "This one assumes we'll be present at the festival, no?"
"Yeah," I replied, my eyes on him. "I've made some... interesting arrangements. I've convinced Vici to make the festival a theme party. Everyone will be in costume. We'll all be dressed as comically shady or dangerous people. That way, any suspicious behavior might be easier for us to slip by."
"Hmph. This ought to be great," Lydia remarked with a grin, raising a bottle to her lips.
"Dragon's Blood mead! Freshly produced by the prestigious Clan Dragon-blood!" Ri'saad advertised from beneath his white hood. I have to say, out of all of our covers, Ri'saad's was my favorite. It wasn't really a lover's conflict-of-interest. It was just plain hilarious. He had decided to play the role of a shady merchant who makes unsettling remarks to sell his products. Thankfully, since our mead brand is sold by unaffiliated vendors in most cities, nobody suspected anything. "Khajiit once met a man who went an entire week without Dragon's Blood mead! He got hit by a carriage!"
The wedding had continued without any sign of an attack. Evidently, the idea of a costume party didn't sit well with some local merchants, but Ri'saad was definitely making the most of it. I admired my lover's enthusiasm from a distance, rubbing my fingertips over my purple-painted jaw to hide my wide grin. "Dragon's Blood mead brings your ancestors back from the dead!" Ri'saad exclaimed.
Lydia, dressed (conservatively) as a Hagraven, approached. "Isn't this racist?" she asked me.
"Eh. Everyone's a little bit racist," I replied. "Seriously, though. Look at him. It makes a good cover."
"But aren't you worried about harassment?"
"Lydia. Dragon's-Blood mead. The assumptions people will make about him will be enough to ward off any threats that might compromise cover."
"Assumptions about our identity? Then what's the damned point?"
"No, no. Dragon's-Blood mead is sold by a lot of vendors in many cities. Everybody knows where it comes from, but nobody will suspect that it's a Clan member selling it. Even so, for most people, the mere association is enough." I glanced off at the costumed crowds in the plaza. I looked back to Ri'saad, who had his back to me.
Maybe I could have him wear those tight pants more often...
I shook myself back to reality and turned to Lydia. "All right, are you going to act like a Hagraven, or abandon your role? Get with the program!"
"You first, Earth Mother."
"It wasn't my idea for a cover. Don't mock me."
"Can't help it." She looked around at the positions of the other Clan members. "Where's Delphine, anyways?"
"She took it upon herself to get Esbern from Riften on her own. She's not expecting much opposition, anyways."
"Well, that's good news. Still wish we could've gone back to that place. Nice people, safe streets, smelled great..."
I ignored her remark. Ri'saad's act was just too good. "Nine out of ten Dragon's Blood vendors recommend it to their trading parters," he said. "The last one is on my list!"
Author's Note: Ri'saad is a lot younger in my story than he is in the game, just in case the romance seemed a bit odd to some people.
