Chapter Two

S'rendarr's mercy...they were everywhere.

The young Khajiit glanced anxiously over her shoulder, frightened that they were following her. Her grip tightened around the Nightingale Bow. She was trembling. Never before had she felt so helpless. Not even when the Thalmor...

Don't think about it, J'shana, she told herself. Just focus on getting out of here.

She wasn't sure how long she had been here, or why she had woken up here. But she hated this place. She hated it more even than the darkness around the Twilight Sepulcher, and in comparison, the ancient hall was a comfortable palace.

They were endless. They kept attacking her. Each time she was able to fend them off but two of them had bitten her. She was feeling quite cold, and she shivered as an icy wind skated towards her, billowing grit into her eyes. She narrowed them, half-raising a hand to protect them, ears flattened, her fur bushed out.

She was undeniably frightened. The Khajiit lowered her hand at the sound of distant muffled footsteps, fear shooting through the length of her spine. This place seemed both calm and restless...it was strange, and felt as though she was always being watched. She had felt this way, she remembered, when she was hunting Alduin in Sovngarde, but this place was not the land of starshine and glory as she remembered it.

It had felt wrong—everything felt incorrect. The ground...it was torn between ash or snow, but seemed to be both in a terrible mixture. The sky was blank but cloudy storms racked the ground. The mist was thick and wall-like here, and seemed to try and push her back. The trees were tall and dead but not quite dead. Their branches were bare but their bark was still rich and brown, but none of them were large enough for her to climb and escape the creatures.

The footsteps grew louder. J'shana's breathing quickened. She tightened her grip around the Nightingale Bow, raising it a little, her eyes searching the thick wall of fog that spanned behind her. Within it came a chilling snarl. It made the hairs on her body beneath her leather armour stand on end. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and set it to the bowstring and waited for the horrible phantom creatures to come.

The creatures emerged from the heavy mist. J'shana's eyes widened in dismay when she saw how many there were.

Each pack that found her, that attacked her, was growing larger.

'Moons protect me,' J'shana whispered shakily, stepping backwards, terror starting to overcome her senses as she faced the five of them. Each of them was as large as a bear. She wondered if it was possible to even defeat those odds—she would have should she still have her powers, but they had vanished upon coming here and she had no way of getting them back again. That had what frightened J'shana the most. She had tried to Shout, to call on one of her abilities to protect her—and no great power had occurred, no miracle of the dragon's tongue. Nothing but a feeble yell.

The creatures fanned out, trying to surround her. J'shana knew that should they succeed in that endeavor she'd be finished. She moved back, moving in time with the creatures as they prowled in silence towards her, their spectral bodies glowing brightly against the lifeless grey surroundings.

When the first one leapt, J'shana whirled around, pulling back her bowstring and releasing the arrow as it approached her. The arrow found its mark, straight in the creature's head. It dissipated into the strange blue mist and vanished completely into the air, the arrow falling to the ground, but J'shana had no time to revel in her victory. It didn't seem to dishearten the beasts one bit. Two more leapt and J'shana wildly fired her next arrow at the second. By good luck it struck its stomach and once more it vanished. The third crashed against her, knocking her to the ground.

J'shana shoved it off, rolling back onto her feet. The spectral animal landed on its paws and without waiting it attacked again. J'shana's fingers found the fallen arrow, the one that had begun the battle in earnest, and threw herself backwards to evade the snapping jaws at the same time she pushed her hand upwards, tearing the creature from throat to stomach. It let out a pained whimper and vanished.

The remaining creatures lunged as one and J'shana barely saved herself. She was breathless already. She stumbled as she tried to push herself back onto her feet. One of the spectral creatures was fast—it leapt at her, and summoning her strength, J'shana slapped the creature over the head with the edge of the Nightingale Bow, knocking it away. But by doing so, she had thrown herself off balance, and too breathless to dodge, was bowled over by the other spectral dog. Its fangs, cold as the snows of Skyrim, bit into her arm and J'shana hissed with pain, wrenching it free. Coldness flooded into her body, making her shiver harder.

The spectral hound who had bitten her let out a soft husky hiss of triumph and prepared to move in for the killing blow. But J'shana had set an arrow to her bowstring once more and loosed it, watching as the arrow sped through the air and struck the creature through the eye. Despite the chilling and gripping cold that was flooding through every inch of her, J'shana smiled with pride. That was a Karliah kind of shot.

The beast dissipated, and she could see the strange, pulsing grey substance that it had somehow absorbed from her. It flooded back into her, and J'shana felt a good deal warmer very quickly, but not quite as before. She had learned from her first few encounters that these creatures were somehow able to drain her stamina, or health, or both, thus making them all the more dangerous and terrible.

J'shana glanced back at the last phantom creature. For a moment, she was almost tempted to tell it to run away, but she had tried that last time and it had nearly resulted in her...well, had nearly resulted her being killed by these beasts in the brief distraction that had held her.

The beast hissed, serpent-like, and prowled around, looking quite unfazed that it was now the last one left. J'shana pushed herself to her knees, pulling an arrow from her quiver and setting it quickly to the bowstring. She was trembling, not just from the cold, but from weariness. Battles like these seemed to exhaust her here, in a way that had never affected her in her home.

At last, the creature charged. J'shana raised her bow and fired. It leapt towards her—the arrow found its mark in its throat, and with a soft, protesting whimper, it vanished, the wraith-like body tearing apart and melting into the air.

Silence fell, and breathing heavily, her arm stinging where the beast had bitten her, J'shana remained on her knees, leaning on one arm and trying to catch her breath. She realized that she was silently crying—tears rolled from her eyes and wet the fur around her nose. This place...she was alone and scared and something had taken her abilities from her, drained her powers as Dragonborn. She felt like she understood nothing, and she was desperate to get home to her family.

Desperate.

I can't give up now, she thought, shakily pushing herself to her feet. What would Keeth say if he knew that I was on the verge of letting them take me?

She was J'shana. She was a Tygra—a Tygra never gave up. A Tygra never surrendered. She was a Nightingale of Nocturnal, a leader of Guilds, a warrior, an assassin, and above all, a Dragonborn—she was the vanquisher of Alduin. She had faced down the darkness and she had triumphed. She was J'shana. She would get out of here.

A shout suddenly rang nearby—it was loud but without the power of the Voice, and J'shana, bemused, whipped around. The voice was female, and it was crying a Shout that she knew very well.

'WULD NAH KEST!'

And then suddenly there was a bone-chilling scream.

J'shana was stunned. Am I not the only one?

Then she was running, sprinting towards the sound of the voice, adrenalin pulsing through her and her tiredness nearly forgotten altogether. Beyond, there were the sounds of battle, the pounding of pawsteps, the snarl from those dreadful wraiths.

She ran through the fog, in time to stumble upon the scene. Three wraiths were closing in on a young woman who was lying on the ground, clutching her arm and staring at them with both defiance and uncertainty in her dark eyes.

'Go to Oblivion!' she snarled shakily at them, but her breath was coming in ragged gasps. It was clear she was in pain.

J'shana wasted no time. She set the arrow to the bowstring and loosed it at the nearest. The spectral creature didn't move in time, nor did it see the arrow coming until too late. In a flash it had vanished and the two others now turned their attention to her, delighted at their good luck.

They charged as one. J'shana swiftly took down the second, and sprang out of the way of the third's attack. Stumbling a little on landing, J'shana straightened. The beast was nearly on top of her. She slammed the Nightingale Bow across its head, disorientating it and making it stagger backwards.

But then it was attacking her once again, with astonishing speed. J'shana leapt out the way of its snapping jaws, but it countered with shocking ability, so fast that it nearly knocked J'shana onto the ground.

It was faster and stronger than the others. J'shana had a strong feeling that this was the beast that had wounded the other woman—and now it was intent on killing her. It lunged, jaws snapping, close to closing on her arm.

J'shana threw herself out of the way, rolled, and leapt back onto her feet. The beast was prowling towards her. Swiftly she pulled an arrow from her quiver but the beast, sensing danger, was leaping forwards, lunging at her throat, taking J'shana completely by surprise. She leapt out of its way only just in time. She was breathless.

It fights like a warrior, she thought in confusion. Always learning...

The phantom landed easily on all four paws, not in the least tired. It was preparing to lunge again, when suddenly J'shana sensed movement nearby. She glanced quickly over her shoulder. The woman was pushing herself onto her feet, her face pale and lined with tiredness, but determination and rage glittering in her eyes. She wielded a long, slender blade that somehow was familiar to J'shana.

'Come on,' she hissed at the creature. 'Come on!'

The beast snarled and raced towards her. J'shana was tempted, for a moment, to shoot it down as it ran, but common sense told her that to interfere in a Nord's battle that they had made clear was their own was unwise. She had accepted her help in the beginning—and now it was time to fend for herself.

The wraith leapt and J'shana thought for a moment the woman was going to be killed. It was nearly on top of her.

But the woman skillfully leapt to the side. The creature landed beside her, and made to move again, but already the Ebony Blade was swishing downwards. With a huff of effort, the woman severed the creature's head, and its ethereal body vanished as it...died. Or dematerialized. Something.

There was a thick smoky grey substance that was left, and it returned to the woman, whose breathing eased a little. She still looked exhausted, though. She sank to her knees, the Ebony Blade rolling from her grasp.

J'shana hurried towards her. 'Are you all right?'

The woman snapped a cautious-eyed stare towards her. She didn't relax upon meeting her gaze, and answered in a low, hoarse voice, 'I'm not sure.'

It took a few seconds for J'shana to remember what had drawn her to this woman in the first place.

'You were speaking in the dragon's tongue. Trying to use Whirlwind Sprint.'

The woman looked as surprised as J'shana felt. Then she frowned. 'You...you knew what Shout I was trying to use?' Suspicion clouded her words. 'You knew I was trying to Shout at all? We've never met. Who are you?'

'My name is J'shana Tygra.' J'shana flattened her ears uncertainly. 'And...well, I knew you were trying to Shout, because...I can do it. I mean, I could. I can't seem to do it here...'

The woman was silent, trying to figure things out.

'You mean to say, you're Dragonborn, too?' she asked at last.

You're Dragonborn?

J'shana slowly nodded. Nothing seemed to be making any sense at the moment.

After a moment she extended a hand and the woman took it. She rose onto her feet, picking up the Ebony Blade and slipping it into its sheath.

'Who did you say you were again?'

'J'shana Tygra. And you are...?'

The woman paused for a moment. Then, very slowly, and very warily, she said, 'Kajsa. Kajsa Red-Blade.' She sounded as if she really didn't want to say it.

She was shivering, but trying hard to conceal it. J'shana, despite herself, felt a flash of concern for her. The creature must have absorbed a lot of her strength.

After a moment, Kajsa asked cautiously, 'Do you know what's going on here? I...I haven't been through weirder experiences than when I went to Solstheim.'

J'shana shook her head. 'Me neither. And no, I...I'm not sure what's going on.'

'Do you know what the creatures are?'

'No.'

'Do you know what this place is?'

'No.'

'Do you know anything?'

J'shana flattened her ears in anger at the scathing in Kajsa's voice. 'No. So stop asking.'

Kajsa was silent, and then she nodded. 'You're right. I'm sorry.' Slowly she exhaled. 'I'm just...just cautious. I hate this place. It feels as though I've been here forever. I want to go home, that's all.'

After a second, she asked, 'I wonder what they are, though. The creatures. This is the fifth time that they've found and attacked me. Each time's growing harder to fend them off.'

J'shana flattened her ears. 'I hate them. They've attacked me numerous times as well.'

Kajsa was thoughtful. 'Every time I slay them...more simply return.' She let out a wearisome sigh. 'I don't think this is ever going to end...'

'But we mustn't give up,' J'shana growled, lashing her tail.

Kajsa's eyes flashed. 'Whatever gave you that idea?' she inquired drily.

Her eyes drifted to the Nightingale Bow, and Kajsa frowned. She said in bemusement, 'That...where did you get that?'

J'shana paused. 'From a friend. I've been using it for years.'

'It's just that I have a bow...that's identical to that one.' Kajsa frowned. 'A woman named Karliah gave it to me...'

J'shana's eyes widened. 'The same for me. You know Karliah?'

'Of course I know her. I'm leader of the Thieves Guild...'

'But you can't be. I am...'

They stared at each other. Both of them were very confused.

Before either could speak again, a chilling shriek sounded nearby, haunting and echoing and making J'shana's fur prickle. She whipped around, her tail lashing in alarm. Kajsa tightened her grip around the handle of the Ebony Blade.

'They're coming,' J'shana whispered quietly.

Kajsa shifted her position nearby. Her eyes were narrowed, her brow furrowed once more. 'Two blades—well, a blade and a bow—are better than one,' she murmured. 'Shall we set aside our eerie similarities until we're out of immediate danger?'

J'shana nodded. 'Good idea.'

And silently, they waited.

Alyssa hadn't realized she had dozed off until she opened her eyes and found herself lying on the floor. She lifted her head—she was stunned. She hadn't slept since she had died. The dead didn't need to sleep, and spirits were tireless. Then she remembered that she was in Pass, the in-between, and while here, both living and non-living traits affected her.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, feeling somewhat more refreshed, but still cold. Morwyn was sitting at the entrance of the tunnel, staring out at the greyish lands beyond. She seemed to be thinking.

Alyssa pushed herself upright. Her body felt stiff, and as she stretched, she felt a shiver run down her backbone. A familiar cool feeling flooded into her veins. Stifling another shiver, she drew her Cloak further around her, her cobalt and cyan robes falling around her. The fabric was heavy and comfortable and soft, but she could draw no warmth from it.

Morwyn glanced over her shoulder. 'You all right?' she asked.

Alyssa nodded, pushing herself to her feet. 'Just cold.'

'You're not alone there.'

Alyssa joined her at the entrance of the tunnel. Beyond lay a murky world that was beginning to bear stunning resemblance to the Soul Cairn. The sky was even starting to become a little stormy.

After a moment, Alyssa asked quietly, 'Do you think there are others, struggling to survive here? Who don't have places of sanctuary?'

Morwyn shrugged. 'Probably.'

'Shouldn't we help them? The cave's quite large.'

Morwyn glowered. 'It'll bring all the creatures straight here.'

'So why did you save me?'

Again, she shrugged. 'You're just one.'

'But you've seen why they hunt me. What this menace wants from me. I'm surprised you didn't just throw me out while I slept.'

'If I were Avalon or Neva, I probably would've done that. But I'm not. I see no honour in leaving you to the mercy of creatures you can't even kill.'

The names were familiar. Alyssa remembered Morwyn had mentioned them earlier. Neva was a "batshit crazy" one, and Avalon was the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.

'Can you tell me about your sisters?'

Morwyn snorted. 'Of course I can,' she said shortly. 'They're my sisters. Who else better knows them? But I don't want to.'

Alyssa sighed. 'Sorry. It's just...well, I haven't met someone who despises their siblings. Especially their sisters.'

Morwyn glanced at her. 'I don't hate Avalon,' she corrected her. 'Only Neva.'

'Why?'

'Would telling her that she was with the Thalmor when I killed her satisfy you?'

Alyssa stiffened. 'Oh, yes,' she snarled. 'It does.'

Morwyn quirked one corner of her eyebrow.

'You have a grudge against the Thalmor, too?'

Alyssa nodded darkly. 'They killed my family.'

Morwyn slowly nodded. 'Ah. That'd explain it.'

A few moments passed sullenly between them. Then Alyssa glanced at Morwyn and asked, 'Was Neva...was she as cruel as the other Thalmor?'

'Boethiah claimed her at birth,' Morwyn explained. 'And it was her very nature to be ruthless and power-hungry as my...' She broke off, and then continued more carefully, 'Avalon was claimed by Mephala. She was a born assassin. Morag Tong, then Brotherhood.'

Alyssa was surprised. 'But those two organizations are fierce enemies.'

'I know. But Avalon had her reasons for joining the Brotherhood.'

'And what about you? Were you claimed by a Daedric Prince?'

'Aye. Sheogorath.'

Alyssa, again, was surprised. 'Oh.'

Morwyn threw her a glance, and she sounded amused. 'What? You didn't expect a noble Dragonborn to be claimed at birth by the madgod?'

'I...well, that's one way of putting it,' said Alyssa, sheepishly.

Morwyn snorted, but a tiny smirk was working its way over her face. 'If you had seen me in my element,' she stated, 'I'm certain that you would have called me mad. But when it comes to a big, bloody battle, I'm anything but.' Her eyes grew bright. 'That would be when the fire would show through.'

'And I'm guessing you had some pretty big and bloody battles in life.'

Morwyn nodded. 'Oh, yes. Plenty. Signed on with the Companions, then went after Alduin, spent six years cooling my heels in Windhelm as a member of the army and then joined the Thieves Guild.'

Alyssa frowned. 'Lots of big and bloody battles to be found with a Guild of thieves, eh?' she inquired drily.

Morwyn let out a bout of bark-like laughter. 'You'd be surprised!'

Alyssa smiled a little herself. 'And after the Guild, then what did you do?'

Morwyn's mirth faded a little. 'I became their Guildmaster,' she stated. 'And Whiterun became the next target on Ulfric's list. So I went. A huge battle came about. I faced Ulfric's armies. I faced Ulfric, again. And we fought. And we died.'

'Ulfric killed you?'

Morwyn snorted. 'Like it was so hard for him. Bastard had allied himself with the Thalmor, believe it or not.'

Alyssa stared. 'Permit my saying I'd find it immensely hard to believe that Ulfric would join the Thalmor.'

'Tell me about it,' Morwyn snarled. 'But he got what he deserved in the end. Hope he's rotting somewhere in the Deadlands.' There was heat and anger in her voice, so much of it, even absent of her inner dragon, that made Alyssa aware of just how angry and hateful she was of him.

'You sound as though you have a grudge against him.'

'You wouldn't know the half of it,' Morwyn stated bitterly. Her eyes flashed. 'And I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind. I liked you better when you were asleep.'

'Sorry.' Alyssa dipped her head and turned away, her eyes straying once more to the restless, churning world that lay beyond.

When a few moments passed, Morwyn asked more calmly, 'Did you have anyone you cared about when you left them behind? When you died?'

Alyssa nodded. 'Oh, yes. Many. Did you?'

'Enough. But you first. Who did you leave?'

Alyssa slowly sighed out. 'The Guild. I miss them—especially Karliah. The Companions. Aela was like a sister to me in the time I knew her, and the twins, brothers I never had. But my own family—my husband, and my daughter.'

'You had a daughter?' Morwyn sounded curious. 'What's her name?'

'Freia. And Ralof, my husband...I guess you know him?'

'Oh, I know him. Good friend of mine—and he and I cleared out Blackreach together, when I was hunting down an Elder Scroll. But he wasn't my fiancé in life.'

'So who was?'

'Brynjolf.' If Alyssa wasn't mistaken, a touch of humility had come into Morwyn's voice. The Dunmer was smiling a little.

'Bryn? Seriously?' Alyssa stared at her, and grinned. 'Forgive me, I was expecting someone...'

'With what?' Morwyn was smirking. 'Someone with grey skin?' She let out another bout of laughter. 'Ha! I was mad, and he was sensible—as sensible as any Nord man can be in a Guild of thieves. We balanced each other. And I didn't ask. He did. Although...I'd say that he could be mad at times, too. Have you heard of the Clansmen of Falkreath Hold?'

Alyssa frowned. 'The what?'

'Bryn was one,' Morwyn went on. 'And they used to go charging into battle stark raving naked.'

Alyssa laughed—she couldn't help it, the idea was completely ridiculous. 'And Bryn did that!?'

'Well...no. And thank God.' Morwyn laughed too.

'Good. I'd be very alarmed if Bryn had gone charging into Irkngthand like that.'

The idea was so ridiculous to the pair of them that they both laughed. When they finally had the sense to calm down a little before they attracted more wraith things back, they both felt a little more comfortable.

'You know,' commented Alyssa, 'I haven't had a laugh like that in a long time.'

'Nor I,' Morwyn admitted. She frowned in puzzlement. 'I suppose that's what happens when you're dead. You lose a lot of traits that you bear by nature when you're alive. And you exist as a somber spirit when you're dead.'

'Somber? The moment I died, I took flight and let the inner dragon take over.'

Morwyn frowned. 'Your "inner dragon" was what destroyed you.'

Alyssa sighed. 'What you saw was not my inner dragon—only the blemished part of me. It fed off my soul but it couldn't corrupt me completely. I let it consume my body but freed my soul. But whenever I take this shape, I wear the Cloak to hide it.'

'Which reminds me...how did you get that Cloak?'

'My Father gave it to me. He wove it from his own heartscales and blessed me with it. Now it stays with me, always. As you saw, it conceals my scars through powerful means.'

Morwyn snorted. 'Good thing, too. Else I might've mistaken you for one of the abominations here in this...this Pass place.'

'I wouldn't be surprised,' muttered Alyssa quietly.

They fell into silence and Alyssa allowed her thoughts to take her. Remembering how she met Morwyn, she wondered why her wristblades wouldn't work against the wraiths. They had never failed her in the past. They had been one of the last weapons that she had used in life. She quietly examined them. They were still in perfect functioning condition. The blades were sharp and solid as they ever were. So why weren't they effective here?

But Morwyn had mentioned something about knights, too. People who didn't seem to be affected by the weapons that Morwyn carried.

'Morwyn,' said Alyssa, 'tell me more about these knights that you keep encountering.'

Morwyn curled her lip. 'Not much to say,' she said. 'Except that my weapons don't work on them. I hit them—but it doesn't do them any pain, no damage, nothing. I was damned lucky I got to this place in time. If not...'

'Did their weapons work on you?'

'Of course. They haven't cut me yet, but their steel is freaking solid...and weird.'

Alyssa stared at her. 'Weird?' she echoed.

'It didn't feel...quite right. Like it didn't belong here.'

Alyssa glanced quickly at her bracers.

'And you said that they were speaking in a different language?'

'Well, only the ones with the red cross on their helmets. Some of them looked like Penitus Oculatus agents, to be honest. From a distance. I'm probably wrong...and they certainly have no quarrel with me. They're looking for someone else, though. Someone called "Dragonrider", I think.' Morwyn snorted. 'Probably another Dragonborn...'

But Alyssa had gone very quiet and very cold—not in the draining way the wraith had on her, but a grim and dark realization.

'Oh, shit,' she muttered.

Morwyn glanced at her. 'What is it?'

Alyssa clicked out her wristblades. Still in working order. Good. She had a very strong feeling that she'd need them very soon.