Chapter One: Meeting Vicente.
It was an hour later when the Argonian finally came back to consciousness, lying on a bed with other beds nearby, and the room he was in being reminiscent of one in a castle of some kind. His boots had been removed. As he took in these details, he simply lay as still as he could, moving nothing but his eyes.
"The spell wore off a minute after I cast it," said the mellifluous voice he remembered from before he had blacked out. "You're no longer paralysed."
The Argonian hissed as he reflexively dived off the bed and attempted to get under it, but it was too low to the floor. Instead, he settled for hiding behind it before stating, "I wasn't looking for you, Lucien Lachance."
"How do you know my name?" demanded Lucien.
"Too long of a story," the Argonian replied.
"What else do you know?" a new voice asked, this one of a higher timbre than the first.
The Argonian visibly relaxed and smiled at the Breton vampire who was dressed in a dark shirt and black wide pants with leather boots and a gold amulet, and who didn't look as old as the reptilian humanoid had expected. Then he replied, "I know you, Vicente Valtieri. But first, tell me, what am I?"
"What do you mean, what are you?" the other two asked in synchronicity.
"Well, I can feel that I have a tail," the reptilian humanoid responded. "That means either Khajiit or Argonian. Then when I look down, I can see that my hands and feet have scales and claws, and my tail is scaly too. Also, my voice has a tendency towards sibilance. So am I hallucinating, or am I truly an Argonian?"
Lucien stepped forward and the Argonian hissed as he watched him warily, ready to leap back again if necessary. Vicente gave some kind of signal which caused the Speaker to resume his former position, then addressed the beastman directly.
"May I approach you?" he asked politely. He had not failed to notice that the Argonian had seemed to be glad to see him a few moments earlier, while remaining fearful of Lucien, probably as a result of the Paralysis spell that had been cast on him by the Dark Brotherhood Speaker at the bridge near the Great Chapel of Arkay.
"Yeah, sure thing."
"Does that mean yes?"
"Of course."
The vampire asked the Argonian to strip down to his loincloth, then began a minute examination.
"Well," he said at last, "without making you strip entirely naked, I can tell you that you're completely Argonian. Why did you think that you're not?"
"Because where I came here from, I look more like the scary dude there," the reptilian humanoid said, indicating Lucien. The Imperial snorted in disbelief, not least because he imagined that a vampire would be scarier than himself.
"It's true," the apparent Black Marsh denizen insisted. "Admittedly, my eyes were blue, and my hair was dark brown and short so I didn't look quite like the Speaker, but I did look like an Imperial with just a touch of Nord. Not that you have any Nord in you, Lucien. More like Breton with a name like yours. May I see what I look like now? The ice covering the stream that I was sat above isn't exactly reflective, you know."
"Of course, do forgive me," Vicente replied, fetching a large panel of highly polished bronze from the wall near the other end of the row of beds. He was starting to believe the strange Argonian's story because of a number of things. First, there was the reptilian humanoid's knowledge of the Dark Brotherhood's Executioner and Speaker, despite his not having been inducted into the organisation of assassins. And there was also his strange speech pattern and vocabulary which Vicente had never heard before in all his travels throughout the Tamrielic Empire. Not to mention the beastman's unusual habits, one of which was to make sweeping movements on his head with his hands as though tucking nonexistent hair under an equally nonexistent cap.
Lucien quietly left the room while the umbric Argonian was busy studying his face and orange eyes with vertical slits for pupils. He also scrutinised his body, limbs, and broad tail which were black with red highlights wherever the light caught them. He seemed to be particularly fascinated with the single, high, spiny, fin-like crest that ran like a crimson blaze along the centre of his head from the forehead to the nape of his neck and the short crimson fin that ran down the length of his tail, as well as his long tongue which was broad at the back of his mouth, then narrowed along its length to end in a point at the front.
"So, what's your name?" Vicente asked him.
There was a long pause. "You can call me Walks-in-Shadows," the Argonian replied at last. "It ain't my true name, but it'll do."
"Fitting," the vampire responded dryly. "Do you know how you ended up in Cheydinhal?"
"No idea," stated Walks-in-Shadows. "All I do know is that I went to sleep as a human, in my own bed, in my own home. And when I woke up, I was in a strange bed, as an Argonian, in the Newlands Lodge. I had to quickly grab what clothes I could see and sneak out because I didn't know if the ten Septims necessary for my stay had been paid or not."
"Then how do you know the price of a night at an inn?"
"Again, that's a long story."
Vicente decided to change the nature of his questions. "Lucien told me that you were singing a song about me when he met you," he said. "What was it?"
"When he paralysed me, you mean. Anyroad, he can tell you, I'm sure." Walks-in-Shadows suddenly noticed the absence of the Speaker. "Hey, where'd he go?"
"Even Speakers sometimes have contracts to fulfil. Anyway, I'd like to hear it sung, and Lucien isn't known for his singing voice."
"Neither are Argonians, come to that."
"True. But you can apparently hold a tune, which Lucien can't. Also, your voice is unlike that of other Argonians. Please, sing your song for me."
So Walks-in-Shadows sang the song again. Once he had finished, Vicente asked, "Is the Vicente in your song myself?"
"Yeah."
"And is the Janus Hassildor you mention the one I think he is?"
"The Count of Skingrad? Oh, yeah." The Argonian smirked as he finished, "I have no need of rumours to tell me that."
"And Seridur?"
"A dude who lives in the Temple District of the Imperial City. Typical, arrogant Altmer. He's in charge of the Order of the Virtuous Blood, which hunts vampires. The irony's really delicious!"
Vicente smiled. While Walks-in-Shadows had a lot of arcane knowledge, it had been clear from the beginning that he had a vocabulary to match and knew how to use it.
"How do you know who's a vampire and who isn't?"
"That's part of the story that's too long to tell. Maybe I'll write a book about it one day, then you'll know what I can't yet tell you."
"Do you think you'll be here that long?"
"I truly don't know, but anything's possible if I'm here, ain't it?"
"So why were you singing that song?"
"Just was. Bored, I guess. I hadn't anything better to do, so I sat on the bridge railing and sang."
All this time, Walks-in-Shadows had been getting back into his clothes and armour.
"And what are you going to do now?"
"What are your prisoners normally allowed to do?"
"Well, since you've answered most of my questions to my satisfaction, you're no longer my prisoner."
"Mega! Then I'll go to the Imperial City and try to get in here the usual way."
"Wait, I'll have to let you out."
Vicente beckoned Walks-in-Shadows to follow him, then left the living quarters and strode to the door of the Sanctuary. As the two approached, the door spoke in a hoarse whisper.
"What is the colour of night?" it asked.
Vicente was about to answer when a voice beside him responded, "Sanguine, my Brother."
The vampire was about to ask how Walks-in-Shadows knew that, but gave it up as a lost cause almost immediately. He knew what the answer was likely to be. He said instead, "One more thing; please don't sing your song anymore."
The Argonian responded cheekily, "Which one? I've written several." Then he relented and said, "Okay, but only 'cos you asked me so politely. See you soon!" he added as he went through the door.
Vicente shook his head, smiling. He didn't think he would ever see Walks-in-Shadows again, and it had been nice to be treated just like everyone else for a change. He would miss the unusual Argonian who had just taken up nearly two hours of his time, he really would.
Copyright © 2011 Romersa's Protégé. Individuals and groups are free to copy and share this work for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.
