Blurring Reality
By Commentaholic
A/N: Well, the first chapter was a huge hit (surprisingly…). I wasn't really expecting much of a turnout, it being the only story in its genre (Oblivion/Inheritance Cycle Crossovers), so 3 reviews was a huge surprise! One being from Arty (of course) and the other from a concerned fan of Alagaësia's New Dragon searching for what has been distracting me; and the other being from Dualkatanas, my other loyal reader from the Oblivion genre.
Well, time for another humorous adventure in the world of Cyrodiil with our good friend Brightscales.
A long wait, and sort of disappointing for my regular readers that I'm not updating A.N.D., but LIVE WITH IT. I like this story! :D.
Read and Review!
Chapter One: It's Just a Suggestion, after all.
Brightscales turned from the swirl of whiteness that had engulfed Renault's form, heading towards the breach in the wall of the Imperial Subterranne. He heard voices arguing from the hall below, where the two remaining Blades and the Emperor were heading through a small walkway set into the stone. The spry Argonian dropped down onto the ledge below the gaping hole in the wall without a sound, his leather boots muffling the sound of his landing.
"I say we just hole up and protect the Emperor until help arrives."
"Help? What makes you think there'll be any help?"
The squabbling was broken up by the fanatical whoops of more Mythic Dawn agents, the shouts accompanied by the sound of conjured armor appearing and blades being drawn. Brightscales peered around the corner to see the Blades struggling with three more armored robe-clad cultists. He whipped his bow from its position on his back and brought an arrow to the string. He lined up the shot along the shaft and let loose the arrow into the back of a mace-wielding assassin. The black conjured armor dissipated in a cloud of red mist as the assassin pitched forward to the ground at Glenroy's feet, an arrow sprouting from his back. The Blade's gaze darted around for a moment, searching for the source of the projectile, before he turned to the new assailant that had appeared in the archway ahead of their group.
Brightscales nailed this next cultist in the strange mask that covered the assassin's face, eliciting a brief crack as the mask shattered before the armor completely vanished in the same red mist.
Baurus swept his katana around to cut the next assassin down, ending the fight. Even though the danger had passed, Brightscales did not reveal himself. Instead, he watched with a grin on his face as the Blades kept pestering the Emperor about the fact that they should "get moving, your majesty". The Emperor just kept refusing, insisting that, "he had to rest for a moment".
Brightscales took a few moments to take an inventory of his equipment. He noticed with a grimace that he was almost out of arrows. Perhaps loosing so many into the miscellaneous bodies that filled the passageways behind him wasn't the best idea, especially since he left them in the corpses. He made a note to himself to get some more once he got out of here. He looked down at the Emperor and his Blades, who had not yet moved from their positions. He figured that he'd taken enough time. He dropped down behind them silently, and when nobody noticed him, he tapped his bow against the stone pillar next to him. The Blades wheeled around at the unexpected sound, drawing their katanas.
"Damn it!" Glenroy shouted, "It's that prisoner again! Kill him, he might be working with the assassins!" He growled menacingly at Brightscales, who just started laughing. The silvery-scaled Argonian began to double over in laughter, hands on his knees to keep himself standing.
"Silence!" Glenroy yelled, "What's so funny?" The Argonian wiped a few humor-induced tears from his eyes.
"Nothing, it's just that you're...threatening ME!" The Argonian launched into another fit of giggles, receiving strange looks from everyone present, even the normally pensieve and collected Emperor.
"SHUT UP! Or I'll rip your tongue out, Argonian!" Glenroy shouted, desperately trying to be heard over the din caused by the laughter's echoing off of the stone walls.
"No," the Emperor said, raising his hand, "He is not one of them, anyway."
"As you wish, your Excellency" the Blades said in unison, sheathing their blades. The Emperor beckoned to the Argonian.
"Come closer, I'd prefer not to have to shout."
The Argonian took a step forward, then seemed to think better of it, smiling mischievously. He jumped across the sunken path in the middle of the room, avoiding the Emperor. The Blades stared at the duo, mouths gaping open as the Argonian leapt across the sunken lane each time the Emperor approached. The Emperor would then walk back down the path, going up the small set of stairs to the opposite side of the lane. This process repeated about a dozen times until the Argonian finally allowed the Emperor, who was breathing heavily with exhaustion at this point, to approach.
"They to not understand why I trust you. They have not seen what I have seen. How can I explain...? Listen, you know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?"
Brightscales laughed, "I'm not on too good of terms with the Nine. Mainly because of the power I wield. Some might deem it... unholy in its effectiveness."
The Emperor gave a small smile, "I have served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well, and I wonder... Which sign-"
The Argonian didn't even hesitate for a moment in his reply, interrupting the Emperor, "The Shadow."
The Emperor continued, "The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."
Brightscales looked off at mid-air once more, "And what about me?" he said, boredom evident in his voice.
"Your stars are not mine. Today, the Shadow will hide you from destiny's cunning hounds."
Brightscales gave a little chuckle, "And hopefully a couple guards, as well. Let's get going. The tongue shriller than all the music calls, and who are we to keep it waiting?"
The Emperor's calm demeanor was shattered for a moment, his face showing some shock before he managed to compose himself once more. He gestured forward, "Indeed, let us continue on."
Baurus walked forward to hand the prisoner a torch, giving him a little talk about keeping out of the way. As this happened, Glenroy came over to the Emperor's side.
"Sire, we cannot be sure this lizard is to be trusted! We don't even know his name!" he said, whispering into the old man's ear.
"Oh hush up, Glenroy." the Argonian called over his shoulder as he peered into the darkness of the next hall, "You can call me Brightscales if it makes you feel any better." Brightscales then leapt off into the gloom, torch held high and sword at the ready.
The Emperor patted Glenroy on the Blade's armored shoulder, "You may not understand now, Glenroy. You may never understand, but that Argonian will play an important part in the trials ahead." Uriel then continued after the Argonian at the brisk pace the silver-scaled prisoner had set, closely followed by Baurus.
"Hold up, I don't like the look of this-" Glenroy said, holding up a gauntleted hand. Brightscales rolled his eyes and pushed past the Blade, snorting in annoyance.
"Glenroy, please. It's better to get this over with as quickly as possible. The sewers are just ahead, and we're almost out of here." Only the Emperor noticed the small grimace of regret on the Argonian's face as Brightscales continued on towards the room below. "Oh look, what a surprise, this gate is barred from the other side."
Glenroy's eyes widened in panic and wariness, "It's a trap!"
Baurus stepped forward, pointing at a dimly-lit archway off to the side, "What about that side passage?"
"It's worth a try!" Glenroy replied, striding carefully into the small room through the stone arch. Baurus followed him while Brightscales and the Emperor exchanged meaningful glances before following the cautious Blades. They heard Baurus give out a cry of dismay as the room they were investigating turned out to be a dead end.
"What do we do now, sir?" the Redguard asked Glenroy.
Glenroy's eyes peered sideways at the archway they had just entered. The sound of conjured armor spells activating filled the main chamber. "Behind us, we must protect the Emperor."
Baurus paused a moment before following Glenroy outside, "Stay with the Emperor, prisoner." Baurus commanded, emphasizing each word firmly, "Guard. Him. With. Your. Life." He then drew his katana and ran to meet the hordes of assassins spilling into the antechamber from previously concealed side passages. Before his ears were filled with the sounds of weapons meeting in resounding clangs, Baurus could hear the Emperor begin to hurriedly speak to the Argonian in hushed whispers.
Emperor Uriel Septim VII, son of Pelagius IV, twenty-first Emperor of the Septim Dynasty, grasped Brightscales' blunt-clawed hand, looking the Argonian straight in the eyes. Piercing blue met irridescent green, eyes locked in a holding gaze.
"My guards are strong and true, but even the might of the Blades cannot stand against the Power that rises to destroy us. The Prince of Destruction awakes, born anew in blood and fire. These cutthroats are but his mortal pawns." The Emperor pressed something into Brightscales' palm. "Take my amulet. Get it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last, secret son. Find the last of my blood, and close shut the marble jaws of Oblivion."
Brightscales looked down at the ruby-jeweled amulet that now rested in his palm. It glowed in a pulsing rhythm from within, illuminating the thin golden frame and chains that comprised the rest of the piece of jewelry. He started to look up, "I can protect you, you know. I know a place..." he began, but his words trailed off as he saw the Emperor's body pitching forward onto the ground, a red-clad assassin behind him, outstretched blade covered in blood. Brightscales cursed and leapt backwards to buy enough time to draw his sword and bring it up to block the swinging blade of the assassin. Brightscales' blade quivered under the assassin's heavy blows.
Dammit, thought Brightscales as he attempted to get his back to the door so that he could make a break for it, I'm an archer, not a swordsman! I have to get out of- The katana he was so unskillfully wielding snapped under a particularly ferocious attack by his enemy. His only thoughts as he stumbled into the wall were: I should have saved back there.
A fierce yell shattered his thoughts as Baurus plunged past him to cleave his assailant almost clean through from left shoulder to right hip. Before Brightscales had the time to revel in his good fortune, Baurus knelt by the Emperor's prone form, dimming the elation previously felt by the Argonian.
"Talos save us..." the Redguard murmured, closing the Emperor's eyes. He rose, a grim expression on his face, "We've failed...I've failed... The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead!" Baurus's look of sorrow turned into a look of confusion as he noticed that something was missing. "Where is the Amulet of Kings? It wasn't on the Emperor's body!"
Brightscales held up his hand to show the amulet, which still glowed in its pulsing red light, "The Emperor gave it to me."
"Strange..." Baurus said, "He trusted you, for some reason. It may have been the dragon blood that they say runs through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men. Did he say why he gave it to you?"
Brighscales was about to roll his eyes, but checked himself because of what would likely be Baurus's reaction. "He told me to take it to Jauffre. Told me there was another heir, and that Jauffre would know where to find him."
"Nothing I would know about," replied Baurus, "But if there was another heir, Jauffre would be the one to know about them. He's the Grandmaster of the Blades, though you wouldn't think so if you saw him."
"And where would I find him?"
"You wouldn't think it to see him, but he resides near Chorrol in Weynon Priory, posing as a priest of the Order of Talos there. It is a chapelhouse of our order."
Brightscales turned to leave, "I should probably get going."
"Wait," Baurus said, halting the Argonian in his progress, "Here is the key to the sewers. I'll be staying here to guard the Emperor's body." He handed over a small oddly-toothed key. "There are rats down there, and maybe a couple goblins, but from what I've seen, you're an experienced Nightblade, right?"
The Argonian chuckled, Nightblade... Just a nice way of saying Assassin. "Yeah, something like that. By the way, here's Renault's sword. Make sure it has a place of honor."
"I will," the Redguard said, accepting the katana. Brightscales didn't mention that he had a couple more to spare. The silvery Argonian proceeded down into the sewers through the passageway that the assassin had used to enter the room where the Emperor had been. Baurus was right, there were a few pesky rats, but he dispatched them easily. He then dealt with the pair of goblins residing down there, as well. One of them had a quiver of ten iron arrows, which Brightscales was happy to loot the goblin's corpse for, as he was low on his supply of arrows. After climbing a brief flight of stairs and walking down a long tunnel, he finally emerged into the blinding light of day, which hurt his eyes after such a long duration of time underground. He gazed over Lake Rumare at the white marble ruins of Vilverin, which gleamed in the sunlight. He smiled, time to acquire some more arrows.
After getting a sneak-attack on the bandit archer in the camp outside the ruins, the bandit axeman was also easy to deal with Brightscales now had a supply of about fifty arrows, which would last him a while if he opted to retrieve the ones he shot from the corpses of his fallen foes. He shaded his eyes from the glaring sun as he gazed across the short stretch of water that separated him from the northern mainland. He could head off to Jauffre like an obedient little errand boy, but then again... He shifted his gaze towards the Imperial Waterfront, which was mostly obscured by the towering walls of the Imperial City. Jauffre could wait.
Antonio Previus was a guard for the Imperial City. As a member of the Imperial Legion, he was sworn to protect the innocent, apprehend criminals, and generally keep the peace. He had joined the Legion at a post in Morrowind, and had been transferred to the Imperial City post after 15 years of service in the Ashlands. His armor was battered but strong, and was evidence of many hard-fought battles. He bore a spiked shield that bore the silver, blue and gold that were the symbols of his position. It had taken quite a few years of hard work, but he had finally earned the calm station that he had long yearned for, having been assigned as the Guard Captain of the Waterfront.
Occasionally that overly-obsessed Guard Captain, Hieronymous Lex, would come down from the main city and march patrols through the Waterfront on the pretense of searching for his "Gray Fox" nemesis. Personally, Antonio didn't believe in the so-called Lord of Thieves, mainly because IF there was a man who could organize all of the beggars and thieves under one banner, he sure wouldn't be hiding in the Imperial Legion's backyard. It just didn't make sense that the Gray Fox would risk that much. Although, if the rumors he had heard were true, the Gray Fox did have a habit of openly taunting Hieronymous Lex in notes left behind after particularly daring heists. Perhaps the half-mad Guard Captain was right. Maybe the master thief was hiding among the ramshackle buildings that lined the waterline, an area more commonly known as the slums.
Antonio nodded his helmeted head at Lotanus, another guard on patrol in the Waterfront area. To be honest, Lotanus' talents would probably be of more use in the Arena district, where roudy gamblers often got into brawls about the latest victor. Lotanus, as an Altmer, had an astounding affinity for illusion magic, which came in handy in calming such fights down. Antonio had put in a recommendation for a transfer a few days earlier, but so far nothing had come of it. The Altmer deserved a better post than to be walking amid the foul stench arising from the sewer grates that dotted the waterline.
As he strode along his patrol route, Antonio passed the rough-looking group of sailors that had come in on the galleon a few days earlier. They eyed him warily, the female Dunmer among them snarling at the Legion soldier. Although Antonio was quite certain that they were pirates, for he had seen several boxes being stowed away in their hold, mostly marked as belonging to a prominent Black Marsh shipping company, he could not arrest them without due cause. He was a man who followed the law, and he upheld it as such.
He reached the end of the cobbled path and turned around again, passing the broad staircase that led to the slums. As he passed the archway, he could've sworn he saw a blurred figure dash between buildings. He paused, stepping back into the archway to investigate. His natural curiosity hinted that something was amiss, and as a guard, he could not leave a mystery unsolved. He carefully stepped down the stairs, passing into the slums, peering left and right until he got to the alleyway that he had seen the shape dart into. He peered into the gap, and, seeing the figure disappear around the corner down the alley, followed it. He emerged onto the beach that was the edge of the poor district, looking for the figure, but it was nowhere to be found. He heard Lotanus call out to him that their shift was over. Although it wasn't like him to leave something like this alone, the next shift would likely discover it, and he would be sure to order them to get the investigation fully recorded.
Antonio turned back towards the way he had come. The last sound he heard was the sound of an arrow whistling through the air towards him before it embedded itself through his helm and into his skull, ending his life.
"Wha- What? Who are you?" Renault asked, terrified at the voice that resonated in her head.
No, the question is: What are you doing here, Renault? Oh wait... Don't tell me. Brightscales has been busy again, hasn't he? The golden eye in the barely-ajar door closed in a moment, and Renault could hear a deep sigh. Well, come on in. You'll catch your death of cold out there. The door eased open to reveal a massive, gold-scaled dragon, which had turned and begun to head back inside from the foyer that Renault now found herself in, and into the main room of the tower. It paused, swinging its head back to face her. Well, are you coming or not? Renault snapped out of her daze and carefully walked inside. She made to close the door, but the dragon's voice, for it must have been his voice, spoke again in her head Leave it, the door will close on its own. Sure enough, the door had begun inching shut behind them, slowly blocking the cold weather outside. Renault looked behind the door to see a mechanism of gears that was slowly closing the door automatically.
Renault turned to look at the dragon in amazement. She realized that she must be the first mortal to gaze upon a dragon in over half a century, or perhaps even since the last Era. The histories of the empire spoke of the dragon race having been driven to the brink of extinction by the endless hordes of Cliff-racers that had invaded their mountain territories in Morrowind and Vvardenfell. The last dragon was rumored to have been slain by the Ayleid cultist, Umaril the Blasphemer, also known as Umaril the Unfeathered. He supposedly had seen their mastery over the sky and of fire to be unholy and an affront to the daedric gods he so foolishly followed.
Modern worshippers of the daedric lords could not find any trace of the rhetoric he spouted as he mounted his genocidal assault on the remaining dragons. The Divine Crusader of the time, Pelinal Whitestrake, had attempted to save the dragons, but had arrived too late, instead arriving just as Umaril had slain the last dragon elder. Pelinal had attempted to avenge the dragons by defeating Umaril, but had only managed to banish Umaril from the physical realm. Pelinal and his followers had spent many following years attempting to find a way to end Umaril completely, thus fulfilling the complete vengeance, but had failed.
But the dragon before her was obviously very much alive. It was almost like being in the presence of a near-deity, the form of a dragon having been used as the depiction of Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time. They had been so revered during their short time in Cyrodiil that their likeness was used on the Sigil of the Imperial line of Emperors. Renault followed the dragon down a side passage, where it lay down in one of two bowls set into the ground and lined with cushions for comfort. The dragon spoke again, its voice seemingly a little annoyed.
So, what has my friend been up to this time? Besides saving you, of course. I suppose he decided to shove himself into the Imperial Prison, am I right? Renault began to reply, but had barely gotten a word out before the dragon interrupted. Of course he did, or else why would you be here? The dragon snorted, a small gout of flame spewing briefly from each nostril, Sometimes I don't know why I bother with him. My name's Glaurung, by the way.
Renault's head was swarming with questions: What was this place? How did Glaurung survive the scouring of his kind? Who exactly was Brightscales?
She looked at the other bowl of cushions, a question forming on her lips, when suddenly Glaurung looked up, gazing upward, as if through the walls of the tower.
One moment. Glaurung rose and prodded a lever set into the wall with his snout, switching it up into a new position. A grinding of gears came from above, and a massive metal plate slid aside, revealing an opening that had been previously obscured. Glaurung turned back to Renault, She will be glad to have another female to talk to. It's been quite a while since we've had company.
A graceful, sapphire-scaled dragoness swooped in through the opening, pirouetting in mid-air and then flapping slowly to lower herself softly to the ground. Renault was dumbstruck at the hue of the dragoness's scales, as even the highest quality gems in the Imperial Vault could not match their beauty. The dragoness nuzzled Glaurung as she passed him on her way to her bowl of cushions, then looked at Renault for a moment, her blue eyes almost seeming to pierce into the Blades' very soul. And who are you? the blue dragoness asked.
Saphira, this is Renault, a member of the Emperor's personal guard. She recently had an... accident, and Brightscales idiotically got himself involved and sent her here. She's a friend.
The blue dragoness, whom Renault now knew as Saphira, re-directed her gaze back towards Renault after nodding to Glaurung, Well, any friend of Glaurung's is a person I can trust. She looked at Glaurung again, To be honest, though, Glaurung, I don't know why you let Brightscales out of your sight. He always gets in trouble when he goes off on his own.
Glaurung snorted indignantly, It's not as though I can stop him. His power enables him to come and go as he pleases in the blink of an eye. I couldn't stop him even if I pinned him to the ground and bit his limbs off! I find that it's better not to offend someone of his abilities. Trust me, it just won't work out if you try to control him. He's much like me in that respect, not being one for submission.
Saphira chuckled in a choppy growl, I seem to recall that I beat you in most of our fights, and you are rather eager to submit when I do.
Glaurung growled, You would, too, if you were a male and I had my claws dangerously close to the part of my body that you were threatening.
Renault merely listened to this exchange with her mouth agape as the dragons continued to bicker in their joking manner. Not only were there two dragons, but they were odd, and did not speak in a traditional manner. One thing's for sure, Renault thought, Nothing's going to be the same after this gets out.
-A/N: Well, finally finished this chapter. I thought I'd end on a humorous note. I do feel sorry for Antonio though. According to one of my friends, it's kind of like pulling a Vampire Diaries thing: Creating a character with their own opinions, attitudes, and personalities, and then killing them off. Although, this story isn't going to be as straight forward as some of you might guess. Don't jump to conclusions.
This is the first of what I hope to be a series of four updates of a few of my various stories within the next week, so stay tuned into CMNTV (Commentaholic Television) for what's up next!
-=Commentaholic=-
