A/N: I'm sorry to the people who have been tuning into this story for a long period of time, I know this is the millionth time I have changed this story and I am so sorry, I think I have it right this time though.
If you haven't read this before then, please bear with me, I know it's a bit different but I do hope you like it. I've always been a special snowflake, so, hang in there, it'll get way more interesting.
I'm pretty sure everyone is sick of re-writes by now, but, there will be no need to re-read these. This is just maintenance.
The whispered clop of horse hooves was accompanied by the gentle hum of insects and the roll of the icy winds. The moon hung in the black void of a sky, golden stars scattered across the darkness like a thousand eyes gazing down upon Nirn. The horse traveled slowly,the guard riding the chesnaught creature having a mind clouded by brandy and a need to rest.
"Damned night shifts." He cursed, words slurred under the weight of the alcohol he had downed in an attempt to warm himself. Tonight was a particularly cold night and the iron of his Imperial armour did not help. His body could not warm it faster than the icy winds cooled it.
The nights darkness and his own hazy mind ensured that he failed to see the flash of long black clad limbs as they slipped towards the back of the large alchemic shop. The young woman left in charge of the shop for the night was equally as unfortunate as , in her attempts to finish the books for the night, she failed to see a pale creature duck past the window and failed to hear the slight rush of window as it launched itself onto the back balcony.
The creature itself, a towering figure of lanky, leather clad limbs, had landed silently and perfectly on the weather worn wood of the balcony. It placed a void gloved hand on the door handle and pushed it open just enough for it to slip through. Closing the door, it slunk under one of two beds and rested beneath the wooden frame, tucking its long limbs underneath to minimize the chances of it being spotted.
Time ticked by achingly slow for the breton woman down stairs, the tanned and weather beaten ladys hands aching by the time she snuffed out the final light from her tedious record keeping. Sometimes she regretted killing that old bastard before fleeing from High Rock, but, other times she was glad. He had deserved. She let out a breath and pushed loose strands of auburn from her face before trudging upstairs. She needed a good nights sleep, maybe she would not wake up this time, she supposed that would be okay. She'd made her peace with divines for what she'd done.
She began to strip the moment she stepped onto the landing, throwing aside her olive vest and tanned linen skirt, quick to kick of her doeskin shoes. Thick and thin scars littered the woman's tanned flesh, a particularly vicious burn trailing up the back of her left leg and ending at her buttock. She craned her head over her neck to look at it and frowned. She had made the mistake of trying to rob some dying traveler, or what she had thought to be a dying traveler, the altmer bitch hadn't even looked at her when she had singed her with a snap of her fingers. Growling at the memory of this, the breton plucked an abandoned linen shirt from her bed and pulled it on over her head; linen dirty and stained with multiple liquids. She fell onto her bed, the entire frame shaking beneath her weight and her eyes immediately fluttered closed. Silence engulfed the room for a long time until, but, she could not seem to drift off to sleep. She could something was wrong, eyes burning into her.
She opened her eyes and tilted her head to look at the window. She was met with what she first thought to be a walking tree by the height and light frame, but, trees didn't have faces with pale, golden skin, or eyes that glowed like the dying embers of a fire in the middle of a moonless night. The tree grinned at her wolfishly, showing of a row of white, dagger like teeth that looked more akin to that of a daedra than some pale skinned altmer.
The guardsmen let out a long sigh, gently stroking the side of his horse's neck. She had be retiring soon, and he had be sad to see her go, she'd been his faithful mount for many years.
He let out a long breath, vapour from the heat floating off into the sky, and he took another swig of cyrodilic brandy. It was tiresome and the brandy offered little comfort, much less than his wife would have were he at home in his nice, warm bed with her and not out on duty. He would kill Markus for making him take his shift.
A sound in the distance drew his attention back to where he had come, it was something akin to a crackling, like fire. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the alchemic store ablaze and he rushed to rear his horse around and gallop towards the fire. There was little he could do, though, apart from watch and listen as the woman within the flames screamed in agony.
Firelight danced across the cold flagstones, bringing an oddly homely feeling to the shadowed den. There was little noise above the clang of swords and the rustle of paper. The sanctuary was reasonably barren today, with the few brothers and sisters that remained busying themselves with reading or training. Footsteps echoed, faintly, signalling the awakening of one of the family and Teinaava simply spared the emerging vampire a glance as he emerged from the long hall.
Vicente, though, spared him not even a once over and instead immediately inspected every inch of shadow. Seeing this, the corner of Teinaavas mouth twitched upwards. "You seem worried, brother," The red and green scaled argonian spoke up,"Looking for someone?"
The man considered his words as he ran a thumb over the gold necklace that hung from around his neck. "Vryn is taking longer than usual."
The argonian chuckled lightly, the man shifting his crimson gaze to the other, "Come now, brother, you and I both know her. Our sister is most likely lost in the kill, you know how she can get." He reassured.
Stone grated against stone, the sanctuary door pulling back to reveal an elf dressed in civilian clothes. The brown haired woman glanced at the gaunt man as she went to pass and immediately retraced her steps, standing in front of the walking corpse of a man. "You're not worrying about Vryn are you, brother?" Telandril asked, looking at Vicente with a quirked brow.
"Does he ever do anything else?" The argonian smirked, returning to his own book.
"I cannot blame him," She smiled gently, "I worry about her sometimes as well, our sister can be rather troublesome."
Vincente muttered a slight, "You don't know the half of it." before grabbing a book from the table beside Teinaava and sitting in the adjacent chair. They heard the door closest to them open, words being spoken quickly before the elf returned; slinking down into the sleeping chambers for a well earned rest. "I'm not that troublesome..." A muffled voice said, cutting through the newly found silence. The red eyed man looked up from his book, being met with two pools of fire, "Am I?" She asked, taking another bite of the sweetroll in her hand.
"You are." He responded. She swallowed the mouthful, looking at the other with a quirked brow and her head cocked slightly to the right. She opened her mouth as though she were about to respond, but, closed it and shrugged instead, choosing in favour to continue eating her treat. "You and I have a contract in Kvatch, best go and get your pay from Ocheeva so we can head out," He ordered.
Vryn's interest was noticeably peaked by this and she quickly finished her sweetroll before ducking over to the heavy doors To Ocheevas room. She pushed back the doors, greeting the female argonian with a smile. "Good Evening, sister, I've completed my contract."
The argonian smiled in response, collecting a reasonable sized pouch from a table and handing it to her. "Plus bonus." She smiled "I am sure Vicente already told you of your newest contract." Vryn nodded, receiving a faint yet pleased hum from the other. "Good. go now, sister, and may the Night Mother watch over you."
Vryn ducked down the hall and slipped into Vicente's room tugging clothes from a chest in the corner of his room. She was quick to desert her shrouded armour and quicker to pull on the quilted doublet, red lace trousers and pig skin shoes she usually wore outside of contracts. Just as she was fastening a loose piece of linen around her right forearm Vicente stepped in.
"Ready?" He asked her, watching her untie her hair to cover up the bite marks left exposed by the lack of the high collar of her usual armour. "Good." He muttered, brushing past her and pulling a robe from the chest, pulling it on and tugging the hood over his head. "Lets go."
People maneuvered through the streets, ducking from building to building, chatting and laughing as they moved. Carts rolled past, a variety of items being transported in baskets and crates. Fingers like tendrils took hold of the stem of an apple, snowy flesh complementing the red of the fruit perfectly. A flick of the hand brought the apple to the smooth of the woman's palm. Taking a bite, she savored the sweetness of the treat and smiled to herself, enjoying the luxury that was food.
"Is this really the time for snacking, sister?" The man by her side asked, clad head to toe in blue robes and brown leather.
"There is always time for snacking, brother." Vryn smirked, eyes scanning every shadow that licked at the buildings like freshly lit flames. "You don't know the luxury of food until you have gone years without it, though, I suppose you care not for some of the simpler things of life like apples."
"Apples are for horses, dear sister," He gave a tight smile, the tips of his pointed teeth threatening to sneak from between his thin lips.
"Apples are for mortals." She stated, glancing down at the red fruit in her hand. She lifted it to her lips, a crimson liquid seeping from the white as though the treat were bleeding, and she licked away almost as though to reassure herself she was just imagining that it was red. "Which I am." Those words threatened to be filled with excitement, a gleeful yet tightlipped smile gracing her features.
Vicente's eyes became dark at this, an odd sorrow burdening them, his disapproval evident. He opened his mouth to tell her that mortality was not necessarily a good thing, but, forced himself to remember that she had been through enough and deserved eternal sleep. He sighed, narrowly missing a passerby as they stepped onto the stairs that led up to Church doors. "Mm." He hummed, pushing the doors back.
Something occurred to her and her warm hand was suddenly on her shoulder, stilling him and turning him to look at her. "Did you eat before we left?" She asked quickly, trying to ignore the fiery shadows licking at his sharp features.
"I will be fine, no need to worry." He stated, taking her hand from his shoulder and placing it over her heart, "Come." She glanced at the apple in her other hand as his hand left hers, and chose to toss it over her shoulder before she followed him inside. She hovered just behind his left shoulder, a towering figure of awkward proportions looking much taller next to a breton. "I will go and meet with our contact, wait by the front most pew for me." He ordered.
She nodded, "May the night mother watch over you." Vicente glanced back at her, reaching up and ruffling her hair before departing. Though she ensured she was pouting when he gave her a parting glance, she smiled all the way to the front most pew as she ran needle fingers back through her hair. Vryn briefly wondered if it was okay to appreciate things such as that, simply being able to make contact with others, and she quickly decided that even if it was not she did not care. She had very little time left.
She stopped before the circular altar, folding her arms, and let out a gentle sigh as she looked down at the object of worship. The circles engravings around the outer ring looked at her, the gods judging eyes boring into her, seeing through her lies and facades, the red fabric draped across the center flowing like a stream of blood. All the blood spilt for the bastards. She thought, eyes watching carefully. Akatosh look back at her, the raging of the dragon fires burning her eyes and making her cringe. She lifted her gaze from the altar, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to clear her mind and shut the Dragon out. He would just make her feel guilty again. When she opened her eyes again and looked to the space across from her she was met with familiar blue eyes, eyes that she most certainly to be real and almost more judging than the Time God.
She smiled slightly at the brunette man and blew him a kiss, catching him off guard and making him turn away in disgust. She smirked to herself, abandoning the altar and approaching him. "Good morning," She greeted the blue robbed man, smiling warmly at him. The priest, looking at her with the faintest hint of disdain in his clear eyes. "Come now, Brother Martin, why do you hold such hatred towards me?"
"Because I know, because I don't trust you." Martin responded as coldly as he could manage with his warm voice.
"Ah, you are the only one who has no trust in me, sweet priest. Is there no code that bids you to trust unconditionally?" She shook her head in mock sorrow, finding amusement in the sight of the irritation growing in his eyes.
"I have no trust in you because I know what you are, not even the wisest of men would be fooled by your guise were they to see you in action." He snapped.
She laughed, faintly, her enjoyment only serving to pour salt onto the wound. "Oh? And what would I be?"
"A liar." He growled, the first word filled with hurt from personal experience. "A thief and a murderer."
Her smile widened at him, lips staying pressed together but teeth threatening to break past, tapping his nose lightly. "You are too kind." She laughed again as his face grew red, with rage or embarrassment she was not sure. "Come now, dear priest, you must not still be angry of that tiny misunderstanding."
"You stole my family's horse and half of our belongings," His voice was raising with anger, a reaction only she could elicit from him.
"Now, now, am I not innocent until proven guilty?" She joked, well aware that she was in fact guilty of both crimes and many more than that. Before Martin could throw anything back at her, Vicente was by her side. She glanced at her brother and then to the priest, flashing the brunette a smile. "Until next time, Brother Martin" She turned, following her brother to the exit of the church.
"Why not just kill the priest?" Vicente asked quietly, pulling his hood back over his head before placing a hand on the church door.
"I don't kill priests." She responded, well aware it was a lie. She killed priests, she just did not kill that priest.
The shadow flames curled around banisters, licking at the wood, coaxing it to catch alight in the darkness. Burning eyes lifted to the sky, being met with a thousand others that glared down at her with hatred. Closing her eyes, she scrubbed her hands over her face in an attempt to erase the images. Her eyes fluttered back, the toothy grin before her complementing the madness in the golden eyes. She pulled back, smacking her head against the wall as she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the shout of shock and pain, biting past the void coloured, leather that gloved her hand. She pulled her hand away from her lips, a bitter, silver taste filling her mouth as she looked down at the crimson liquid that flowed from her hand. It coiled around her fingers, blistering the armour in it's wake as it darkened to a black. Thin serpents reared their heads, golden eyes filled with disdain as they unhinged their jaws to bite down on her finger tips. She flicked her hand to the side, hiding her eyes in her arm as she did her best to steady her breathing. She pressed her bleeding hand to the hard leather of her black armor, biting her lip and trembling faintly as she tried to select an appropriate memory to wash away the delusions. Every good memory she had left, though, led her back to the flames, Old and new, that tormented her to no end.
"What are you doing out here?" The familiar smooth and warm voice of the priest asked.
Her head snapped around, burning eyes training onto the younger. Anyone else would have reeled back, but, Martin stayed his ground. If she wanted to kill him she would have done it long ago. "Playing hide and go seek," She hissed sarcastically "What do you think I'm doing?"
"Stealing." He growled, looking at the hand she had pressed to her armor as though he would find her clutching a gem. His gaze softened slightly at the sight of blood, the concern on his face like a distant memory to Vryn who had long since lost the right to the Priests kindness. A faint pang of guilt struck her heart at this thought, but, she did her best to keep her face stoic.
His gaze met hers and he was quick to hide his concern, replacing it with a snarl that was terribly unconvincing. "How did you get that? Try to break into a house with guard dogs?"
She gave the puncture wounds a long look, thinking over that, perhaps, she could get away with saying they were from a Khajiit or Argonian for that was truly what the shape of the puncture wounds were. A dog would not work, though, the width to length ratio was too off and Martin was smarter than that. "Just fighting a monster." Her voice was little more than a whisper, burdened with guilt and self-loathing. She could feel Martin's surprise at her transparency and she knew her humility might cost her later, but, right now her mind was too busy fending off screams and accusations.
Martin stood there for a long moment, just looking down at her. He was conflicted. Some small, dark corner of his mind told him she deserved no kindness, but, then there was the gentler side - The side she had betrayed - and it was quick to remind him that he shouldn't stoop to her standards of petty revenge. "Give me your hand." He ordered, kneeling down and holding out his hands.
She regarded him with what little suspicion she could muster in her moment of weakness, weight the consequences. This was hurting more than the bite.
He saw her reluctance and offered the faintest of smiles to try and coerce her into giving him her hand. "We may not see eye to eye, but the Nine have not seen it fit to judge you, therefore, I am obliged to help you." He said softly, gently taking her hand from her side and cupping it between his own. An odd blue light began to flow around their hands, diving into their hands and leaving a ghost light on their flesh like water stains.
She looked at where there hands were joined, guilt, hatred and sorrow all whirling around inside her. This most definitely hurt. She felt the urge to apologise rise inside her and her heart screamed at her for her choices. She would not cave, though, she only had a year left and she would not let Martin suffer at that years end. She could never let him cry again.
He pulled his hands away, allowing her to study her own, and sat back on his haunches. She looked over where she had bitten herself, pleased to see the bite was no longer there. "Quiet the good job, Martin." She smirked. She looked into his eyes to find them wide, as though she had surprised him with her words, and it took her moments to realize her slip of the tongue. No priest or farm boy, no formalities, she had called him Martin. "Too bad your personality is not that good." A ghost of a scowl cursed his face, deepening at the increased false amusement on the others.
"At least I have a good trait." He gave back, voice more hurt than hurtful.
She wanted to pull him close and thank him, but, she would not give him that kind of hope. The hope that she was still the Altmer she was six years ago, but, it would hurt him less this way.
The slightest shudder of shadows gave Vryn all she needed and, giving the priest a nod, she stood. "If you are not more careful, child, I might start thinking you like me." With that she launched herself into the air, landing atop the rooftop two stories up. "Farewell, Brother Martin." With that she melted into the darkness, face giving away only a hint of determination. She had an amulet to deliver.
A/N: I'm sorry, don't hate me for re-writing this again.
