Chapter Two: Rite of Shadows
Author's Note: Chapter One was a little sketchy, and maybe not the best effort, but I had to introduce Lilith and give an explanation for why she is what she is. For those that haven't yet inferred it, Of Palest Shadows chronicles the tale of a girl who has lost everything
finding her purpose in life, encountering a new family, and perhaps a new love. This tale will chronicle, chapter by chapter, the Dark Brotherhood faction quests, of course, with a little creative license taken. So, for those of you that haven't done this faction quest yet, and don't want to know about the missions before hand, you may not want to read much further than this chapter. For those of you that HAVE completed the quests and now enjoy the rich rewards of that, please, sit back and enjoy the ride.
She slept as only the spiritually and mentally exhausted can sleep, the deep, dreamless sleep that borders on death. The rough armor she had worn the night before lay abandoned just to the left of the door, cast aside by weary hands, still splattered with the blood of her last victim. It had been a relief to sink into the modest little bed at the end of the night, a relief to know that the hunting was over, the bloodshed was over, she could move on…but to what? She lay with her back facing the door, curled on her side with a delicate hand curled under her chin, white gold hair spread in a wave of soft, tousled curls across the bed. A pale shoulder, skin the color of fresh cream, showed from under the edge of the worn blanket. She looked, he thought to himself, beautiful. An angel perhaps, fallen from the sky. Watching her sleep it was easy to forget what she was. It was easy to forget that she was a killer, a harvester of souls, a true artist in deathcraft. It was easy to forget that she spilled blood almost as easily as water.
Cool fingers reached out to brush across that bare shoulder, the faintest of touches, but enough. To his amazement, she did not gasp, did not sit up and stare at him. No, the only sign that she had woken at all was the slight change in her breathing, and he could imagine that those eyes of palest amber were open, staring at the wall, "You sleep soundly for a murderer."
"Not soundly enough. Not nearly soundly enough. Would that I had no reason to
open my eyes again. The things I have done, they will haunt me to the end of my days, the things I have seen. Would that I could but die…but that is why you are here, isn't it? To kill me? To put an end to this all?"
"Child…if my purpose here was to kill you, you would never have woken," he felt a stab of something, of pity? No, not possible, such tender emotions had long sine been driven from his heart.
"Then who are you? Why are you here?" she stayed facing the wall, but the emptiness in was evident in her voice alone, he had no need to see her face, to gaze into those lovely, and oh so unique eyes.
He settled onto the edge of the bed, careful to keep at least a slight distance between them, "My name is Lucien Lachance, I serve as a Speaker for the Black Hand. Two years ago you drew the attention of the Night Mother, she does pay special attention to the descendents of her loyal servants, hopeful that their kin may prove of the same stock. Thus far, your kin have rather been disappointments, incompetent and sloppy…and then along you came. Your first kill drew her watchful gaze, and she has waited, biding her time until such a time that she thought it prudent to send someone to you. So, Lilith Rithsbane, great granddaughter of Gareth Rithsbane, I have come to offer the blessing of the Night Mother, to invite you to join our Brotherhood, which waits for you with open arms."
"I had thought to end the killing…I do not know that I could continue it. I do not know that I could do the Brotherhood justice," hollow, empty, her voice sounded that even to her own ears. She was wilting inside, becoming just a shell, a puppet without purpose. She hadn't particularly liked the killing, only believed that it must be done. Those men had been undeserving of their lives, and deserved to have them taken.
"Do you know, that of all the creatures in nature, only the sentient races like man are without a natural predator? So we turn on ourselves, raping, pillaging, burning and destroying. Then there are the hunters, people like you, and I, people who thrive on the hunt, and ultimately, the kill at the end. We are the predators of mankind, we and all our kind. It is, perhaps, not the most appreciated walk of life, but it is an important one. There must be checks and balances in place. There is no shame in what you are, no shame. You have only become what life has made you, through no fault of your own."
Lilith turned to face him at last, half rolling onto her back to stare at him with pale amber eyes that were filled with sorrow, and yet somehow hollow, "I had a simple life once. I did not have to worry about spilling blood or hugging the shadows. I lived beneath the sun, and now…now there is only darkness, only shadow. I have nothing left, no purpose, no family, nothing. I feel empty."
Lucien refused to meet those eyes, not wanting to see the pain trapped within them, knowing that if he did, it would stir something within him he had thought long dead, "You could have a purpose again, a family again," he retrieved a dagger that looked more ornate than useful, all onyx and gold ornamented steel. This he pressed into one of her hands, carefully curling her fingers around the hilt, "You do not have to make your decision now, but if you should choose to accept this invitation travel the Green Road, just to the north of Bravil you will find a place called the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio, use the blade I have given you to slay him and you will have completed your initiation. Once you have completed this task, when you sleep once more in a place I deem to be secure I will come to you with further instruction," then he was gone, as silently as he had entered.
Lilith sat up as he left, the well worn blanket sliding down to pool around her waist. Slender, delicate fingers danced along the decorations on the ornate little blade. She turned it over and over in her hands, staring at it, but not seeing it, staring through it.
A few months later she sat on the edge of a bed in the Lonely Suitor Lodge in Bravil, turning that odd little blade over and over in her hands the same as she had done every night for the past few months. What would it be to have a purpose again? Could she really hope to be embraced by the Dark Brotherhood so quickly, taken in as family? What would that be like? Would living as an assassin be any worse than only going through the motions every day until desolation finally claimed her? A slender finger tapped against the hilt of the dagger, and she rose suddenly, sliding the little blade back into the sheath that hung low on her left hip, the black leather standing out against the pale blue linen of her skirt. The armor she had left behind, thinking that she wouldn't need it any longer. She raked a hand through her white gold curls and tied them back at the nape of her neck with a blue ribbon.
Barely a soul looked up as she passed, Lilith had a way about her, a way that caused the eye to slide past her, despite her noticeable beauty, unless of course that she wanted to be seen. tThus, no one took notice as she made her way to the stables just outside town, where her horse, the same steed she had ridden from Havenmeet, awaited her. She was in the saddle and on her way before she could stop and change her mind. Heading north, looking for a simple inn where she would have to make the decision that would start her on a new path of life.
The Inn of Ill Omen looked the part. It was small, shabby, a place where no one of good, solid reputation would be found. That knowledge made her feel slightly better about the decision that had to be made. She dismounted, fastening the reigns of her horse to the battered hitch that stood outside the inn, and then she slipped inside. It was dim, dingy, the proprietor a shabby looking man with dark hair. She slipped up to the counter, affecting her best impression of being a simple country girl, not hard since she once had been.
"Excuse me Sir, I was wondering if you might be able to help me. My da is very sick, and he wants to see his brother Rufio before he dies, but we haven't been able to find him at all. Someone told me that they thought they'd spoken to a man named Rufio here, is he here still?"
"Rufio? Oh aye, strange little man, odd, always looking over his shoulder, acts like he's hiding from something. Have a care Girl, but he's here still, downstairs in what we call the 'private quarters', you'll need to go through the trapdoor over there," he gestured in the general direction of the hatch in the floor.
Lilith flashed a timid smile and ducked her head, "Thank you Sir, could be that it's not even the same Rufio I'm looking for," and she was away, slipping down the ladder into the lower rooms of the inn. One out of sight of the innkeeper she dropped the façade, became the hunter once more, clinging to the wall as she slid toward the door that was slightly ajar. A pale hand eased the door open as she darted inside. And he was there, lying on the bed. He looked haggard, like a fox run ragged in a hunt. His hair was graying, his clothes tattered, shabby. She would be doing him a favor by ending his life, granting him a relief from the hunt, a freedom. His death to grant her new life, was it such a high price to pay? She inched closer to the bed, silently drawing the little blade from it's sheath of back letter. It would be easy, quick, a sharp thrust, a quick slash and it would be done.
The blade flashed out, sliding through cloth, flesh, and muscle, grinding on bone to pierce the throbbing organ that pumped life giving blood through the body. Blood bubbled, then poured forth, soaking into the battered mattress of the rough bed. She wiped the blade on a clean spot of blanket, returned it to the sheath and ducked out, affecting her act once more as she left the inn, calling over her shoulder, "Not the right Rufio I'm afraid, I'll have to keep looking, thank you though," then she was gone, mounted and riding for somewhere, anywhere else. It was best to be away fast, before anyone discovered the body.
She retreated to the Imperial City one more, nearly falling asleep in the saddle. She left the horse at the stables and went to find a bed in the Merchant's Inn in the Market District. She fell into bed and was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.