4 years ago
Ever since Méra returned back from Half-Moon Mill, two days ago, she stayed in the safety and silence of her dark room. Food and even water made her nauseous, lights and noises hurt her eyes and ears. Knowing she had already taken the proper potions, she hoped it would pass soon—but deep down, she knew that wasn't going to happen. Turning on her back on the bed, she let out a quiet, painful laugh; a laugh of her own stupidity.
She could understand why someone performed the Black Sacrament in order to hire the Dark Brotherhood to kill Hern. Seemingly, the man lived a quiet life at the mill, selling building materials close to Falkreath, but far enough to hide from curious eyes. In reality, he loved to feed off of travellers. Méra thought it would be quick and clear. There were two ways to kill a vampire: ripping their head off or sticking a stake through their heart (or basically anything made from wood). They didn't particularly like fire either. She didn't want to get too close to him and risk to get infected, but she needed to make sure her strike would be lethal. It was daytime when she reached the mill; she knew Hern hid inside the house from the burning rays of the sun. The lock on the door was too easy to pick.
And when Méra told Hern the Dark Brotherhood had come for him, he wasn't scared, nor surprised. He fought, and he fought well, but despite of him probably having experience for decades, or maybe even centuries, he couldn't take the fight with Méra's skills. Raw power meant nothing against someone whose every move was precise. The Nord vampire's head fell to the ground with a loud, but blunt thud, before his body fell over too.
Méra took her time to wipe the blood off her face and her katana. She just slipped the weapon back into its sheath when she heard something; she looked around, but she saw nothing. She shuddered and decided to leave the house, but when her fingers wrapped around the handle, angry screams filled her ears. She didn't have time to turn around before she felt a weight on her back, arms heavily around her neck; someone was clinging to her, pulling her to the ground. The woman caught her off guard and she found herself on the ground, claws scratching up the clothes on her back. Vampires had ear-splitting screeches, and it even made thinking hard while Méra tried to free herself from the woman's grip. With one hand, she tried to push away her head from her own, but she was incredibly strong. With the other hand, she reached down to pull the dagger out of her boot, but it almost fell out of her hand when she felt sharp fangs sinking into the flesh of her neck. For a few seconds, her muscles weakened and her vision blurred, while the vampire drank her blood hungrily. When she finally gathered enough strength, she raised her arm and reached backwards blindly, stabbing the dagger somewhere into the woman's head. Méra heard her screaming from the pain, but her grip weakened around her and she could free herself. She jumped on her feet and the vampire did so too; she pulled the dagger out of her cheek with a furious look on her face. She attacked again, but Méra was quicker this time—she cut her head off before she could reach her.
Shaking and panting, Méra fell on her knees and quickly searched for a cure potion in her backpack, only to find simple healing potions. She cursed under her breath. How could she forget to check it before she left? As quickly as she could, she rode back to the Sanctuary and marched into her bedroom, drinking not even one, but three vials of the strongest potions.
And now, two days later, she was tossing and turning in her bed, sweating and seeing stars from the pain. She didn't tell anyone what had happened, as she believed she would heal before she even needed to tell anything. What a miserable way to go, alone in a dark room.
She dozed off a little, but her own, blood-curdling scream woke her up. At that point, she couldn't tell what exactly hurt; she felt it everywhere inside her body.
"By Sithis, what's happening here?!" Méra heard Astrid's loud voice through her own shouts, before she saw her, stopping next to her bed. She kept asking questions, but Méra couldn't answer. As the venom cursed through her veins, the pain blinded her. While Astrid was close to panic by the look on her face, Arnbjorn hurried into the room too. They were talking loudly, or even argued, but Méra couldn't understand a word from the drumming in her ears. She just saw when Babette peaked inside when she finally choked out, "My blood is boiling."
"What did she say?"
"She said her blood is boiling," Babette repeated the words, almost knocking Arnbjorn off his feet as she fought her way into the room. It didn't matter she was little; her vampire blood gave her a lot of power. "Oh, dear," she sighed, examining Méra's pain-drowned face. She grabbed the collar of her nightgown and pulled it lower, revealing the marks that only vampire's teeth could leave.
"Wonderful," Astrid sighed and put her palm over her forehead, before she collapsed on a chair, then turned to Babette. "Really, truly wonderful. Is she supposed to react like this?"
"The transformation is different for everyone," the un-child said as a matter of fact, while Astrid looked like she could explode at any minute. "When the venom gets into the bloodstream of a mortal, they usually don't take it very well. Some people make it, and some do not."
Astrid snapped her head up; her blonde locks sticking up at every direction. A loud noise from Méra that was between a scream and a sob filled the room. "What do you mean some of them don't make it? It could kill her?!"
"Oh, it will kill her. The venom kill us all before we come back."
The leader jumped up, walking up and down in the room. Arnjborn watched her with furrowed eyebrows; he didn't remember the last time he saw her being so upset. "I can't believe this. This is madness. Can't you do a potion for her?"
"I'm afraid it's too late for that," Babette replied quietly. "All we can do is wait."
"What is happening here?" Veezara hurried in, his voice raspy as always, his eyes round when he caught a glimpse of Méra. "What in the—"
"Everybody get out of here!" Astrid shouted at the men, her face reddened, and both Veez and Arnbjorn left the room without hesitation. Even her husband knew it was better not to mess with her when she was upset. Astrid sighed and sat down at the edge of the bed, close to Méra, taking one of her hands in hers. Her skin burned like fire. "Can't we at least do something with the pain?" she asked, merely more than a whisper now.
Babette pressed her lips into a thin line. "No. The venom is very strong. But so is she, Astrid. I'm sure she will make it."
Astrid didn't say anything, but leaned closer to the girl. She pulled away a strand of long hair that stuck to her face with sweat. "Méra. Can you hear me?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it would ease the pain in her head, but it helped nothing. She looked at Astrid. "Yes."
"Did you hear what Babette said?"
"Listen," Méra ignored the question and swallowed hard, trying to sit up on the bed. She fought herself up in a half-sitting position with Astrid's help. "If I don't come back—"
"No," Astrid cut her off, her grip tightening on her hand. Méra noticed when her voice trembled. "Don't start to say goodbye. You will come back. You have to come back."
Swallowing back a painful moan, Méra smiled weakly at her. "But if I don't come back—please, listen to me. I just want to say thank you… for everything. For taking me in, for teaching me… for being my family."
Tears filled Astrid's eyes, but she fought them back. She nodded, but couldn't say a word.
The pain weakened Méra soon to the point she couldn't feel anything anymore. Her surroundings became distant. She stared off into nothingness and found herself wishing it wasn't the end. A few years ago, maybe only a year ago, she didn't care if she lived or died, but how everything had changed since then… since the Dark Brotherhood. She wanted more time with them.
And soon, she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore, Astrid's words lost in the echo, and the darkness swallowed Méra.
The deepest forests where no stars or moon lit the way was nothing compared what Méra experienced there, wherever it was. She was standing, the pain vanished, but she couldn't feel herself relieved. She walked, then she ran, but she couldn't find the end of the darkness. The silence cut into her flesh, she couldn't even hear her own footsteps.
Fear slowly crawled up on her spine—did she really have to spend an eternity in the darkest darkness? While she tried to figure it out where she was, and how she could go somewhere, anywhere, a voice broke the heavy silence.
HI FOD NI KOS HET.
Méra spun around, forgetting about it was unnecessary; she couldn't see anything. "Who's there?"
No answer came, only more silence. "Show yourself!"
NI, DOVAHKIIN. HI FOD LOST DIR. HI FENT DAAL.
The unfamiliar words filled the endless place so heavily it felt like they left room for nothing, not even air, and Méra couldn't breathe while it was speaking with its rough voice. Somehow… it was mesmerizing, even though she couldn't understand a word.
NII LOS NI TIID.
Méra almost jumped out of the bed when her eyes opened, panting so hard her lungs burned. Astrid straightened, her eyes wide while she pushed her back on the bed, shouting words kept falling off her lips. It was pitch-dark in the room, no torches burned, yet Méra could see everything. After Astrid somewhat calmed her down, she lit some candles and gave a cup of water to the girl, whose breath started to go back to normal. She drank the water, but it didn't help at all on the thirst she felt.
"I knew you'd come back," Astrid said quietly, while she sat down on the chair next to the bed. Babette wasn't there anymore. "How do you feel?"
At first, she wasn't sure how to answer, because she felt herself surprisingly well for someone who just came back from dead. She felt no pain, she was only a little weak, but she never felt herself so whole. She could smell everything, she could hear everything; even Astrid's heartbeat. "I, uh…"
"What did you see?" Astrid asked as Méra couldn't answer her previous question. Her voice was mysterious and curious. "Were you in the Void? Have you seen our Dread Father?"
Méra thought about it for a second. From what she read and heard about the Void, the space filled with everything but nothing, the eternal heaven filled with darkness, it could be easily the place Astrid was talking about. It even crossed her mind maybe Sithis was talking to her. But somehow, Méra knew the space she had been wasn't the Void. It was something between everything.
Now
Apparently, making the Companions drunk to get rid of them wasn't as easy as Méra thought it would be. They got used to weep and celebrate as well with cheap mead and strong wine, unlike Méra, who never liked to drink too much. It dulled the senses, the mind, and she preferred to keep her head clear. Now, however, she let herself loose a little, recognizing she couldn't get away from them any time soon.
The tavern emptied soon after midnight, and besides the innkeeper and a bard who still played softly on her lute, only the four of them stayed. Ria and Farkas talked the most; Vilkas only joined the conversation occasionally. He was uneasy in Méra's presence, she could tell; he knew she was hiding something, but it didn't bother her. She owed no explanation to him, and with a bit of luck, after they would leave the inn, they never had to see each other ever again.
While Méra played chess with Vilkas, her head already heavy from the strong wine, the other Companions kept trying to figure it out where Méra got her wounds. Each theory sounded more ridiculous than the previous, and she never denied any of them. She just listened silently, sometimes gave a sarcastic remark, until the game finally ended.
"Checkmate," she said, resting her palms on the table for a second before she stood up, still gripping the backrest of the chair with one hand for some support.
"No way," Farkas gaped at her, not even trying to hide his surprise. He had never seen anyone who could win against his brother, maybe Skjor on his better days.
Vilkas tried to keep his face blank, watching Méra as she smiled coyly, before she brushed the little wooden figures away and grabbed his tankard to drink. "I was too drunk for this game anyway."
It was a weak excuse, as Méra was noticeably more intoxicated than him. She stepped closer to pat his shoulder. "Would it be really hard to admit that I'm smarter than you?" Vilkas opened his mouth, but she didn't wait for his answer. "I'm sorry, Companion. I didn't want to hurt your pride."
"Where are you going?" Ria asked while Méra staggered away and towards the door.
"I need some fresh air."
The cool air was freshening and Méra leaned her back against the wall, inhaling deeply. She was surprised to see dawn had started to lighten the sky over the mountains—she spent a lot more time in the tavern with the Companions than she wanted to. She stepped off the porch to walk around the town a little, but she didn't get too far away before she halted, feeling as all the air left her lungs at the sight that came before her eyes.
Thick, grey smoke rose like a curtain, up towards the sky where Méra couldn't see the end of it. Her heart jolted painfully, even if she could only guess the source of the dark cloud. She turned on her heels and ran back to the tavern to pick her sword up she had leaned against the leg of the table earlier, barely glancing at the Companions while she put it on her back.
"I have to go," she said shortly, before she already stormed out of the place. Her behaviour caught them off guard; so far the woman always looked so calm and collected. The warriors watched the cold, empty place for a few silent seconds, before they exchanged curious glances, but it was Farkas who jumped up to go after her.
Méra heard his voice as he called her name while she hurried down the cobblestones, but she didn't answer, hoping if she ignored him he would go away. Only when she reached the gates of the town she turned around and hurried back to him (though he was already close to her) and drew her sword; the tip of it touching the neck under his chin.
Slowly, Farkas raised his palm defensively. "I just wanted to make sure—"
"Don't," Méra cut him off sharply. Her blue eyes were cold in the pale light of the dawn, and suddenly, Farkas was sure that even without her sword, she could easily silence him with that icy gaze. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen to me. I'm not supposed to hurt you. But if you get ine my way, I won't hesitate."
She pushed the katana back into its sheath. "Don't follow me."
Though she had no doubt he wouldn't, Méra walked off the road and choose the woods, where hopefully he couldn't even see her. By the time she reached the little valley she was out of breath, panting from running through the forest. The sight was sobering.
The Black Door was wide open and the dense, dark smoke spilled out of the Sanctuary. Méra fastened her steps again, but halted when she saw Festus Krex's body pinned to a tree by many arrows. She caught one of his eyes, angry even in his death.
"I'll butcher each and every one of your miserable friends."
Maro's voice echoed inside her head again, louder this time as she realized it was no dream, no hallucination. Once more, she drew her sword and rushed into the Sanctuary, trying to cut her way through the choking smoke.
She found two of Maro's agents in a room near the main hall, where the smoke wasn't so thick. The two men barely had the time to draw their swords before Méra was there, spilling their blood. She marched through the corridor, fear creeping up her spine with every step, scared who she might find dead in the next room.
It was Arnbjorn's body she saw first inside, in his beast form, an axe sticking out of his head. An agent still stood next to him and Méra walked closer, while he ran, but she still easily blocked his hit and cut his throat, before she kicked him in the middle of the burning fire. She continued her way up on the stone stairs, finding more and more of the Penitus Oculatus. The smoke burned her eyes so hard she could barely see, but it didn't stop her from killing all of them. She learned to fight in the deepest darkness long time ago.
Méra met none of her own people on the way. She was alone, but it didn't even cross her mind that she had never fought with so many people at once by herself before. Anger and fear equally drove her.
The upper floor was ruined so badly Méra wasn't sure which part of the Sanctuary she was in. She tried to search for survivors, but it seemed impossible amongst the smoke and debris.
At last,a painful whimper and someone's familiar, deep voice caught her ears. Méra rushed into the half-collapsed room and found Nazir, three agents lying dead around him while his back was against the wall, his leg stuck under rocks.
"Nazir," she gasped almost desperately while she kneeled down, trying to free his leg.
The man coughed. "So you're alive. I was starting to wonder."
She ignored the shift in his voice. "It was all a trap. It was a fake Emperor I killed. Maro's agents tried to kill me and—"
"And then they came for us too," he said sharply, a hint of sadness in his voice before he growled in pain as he stood up. "Let's get out of here before we're roasted here alive."
"We have to find the others!"
"Others?" Nazir asked as he looked back at her pained face. "There are no others, Méra. Everyone is dead," he limped out of the room with the help of her. "I only didn't see Astrid and Babette. Maybe they made it out."
She didn't want to build her hopes up, not anymore, but she couldn't help it. They fought their way through the smoke, fire and debris, and left the Sanctuary just before a loud explosion shook the ruins. Nazir and Méra fell over, but a flying piece of rock hit the back of her head, knocking her out.
When she slowly opened her eyes, Méra was lying on her back in the grass, and her first thought was it was all a dream, a terrible nightmare, but the pain in the back of her head told her otherwise. The sun was shining brightly; she must have been blacked out for hours.
"Méra," she heard a thin, girly voice on her left. Babette. She turned to her, seeing the girl sitting in the shadows of a tree to hide from the sun. Méra sat up to look around. Nazir stood next to the ruins of the Black Door, staring off into the distance. A low and deep neigh made her to turn around, and she saw Shadowmere near to the lake. It made her smile on the weakest way, wishing they wouldn't be the only ones who could come back from death.
"I should've been there earlier."
"What are you talking about?" Babette asked sadly. "They took us by surprise. If you were there, maybe you would be dead by now, dear."
Méra buried her face into her palms, closing her eyes with a deep sigh. The thought of maybe she could have prevent this all burned a hole in her heart.
"It is not your fault," Babette said again. "Nazir told me what happened to you in Solitude. You're lucky to be alive."
She couldn't listen to her anymore, so Méra jumped up without any purpose, but quickly found herself in front of Nazir. Astrid. He had told her he didn't see her either. She opened her mouth to ask about her, but before she could, a voice in her head cut her off.
Listener.
Méra turned her head towards the empty, dark tunnel where the Black Door used to be.
You must speak with Astrid. Here, in the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary.
The Night Mother's voice died away, and Méra frowned, her eyes not leaving the ruins. "Astrid is alive."
"What?" Nazir asked, but Méra didn't stop to explain; she walked into the Sanctuary. Her instinct told her she should check Astrid's room first, but she could only guess where it was, though the entrance of the Sanctuary stayed rather untouched compared the other parts. She went in, but there was no sign of her.
"Méra, I don't think Astrid's here," Nazir said as he followed her with Babette on his heels. "If she is, I doubt she survived. Look at this mess."
But Méra's eyes found a hole on the back of the room that she had never seen there before. She picked up her pace again, hurrying through the short tunnel, and her eyes widened when she saw her there, Astrid, lying on the ground.
"Astrid!" Méra exclaimed as she crouched down, helping her to sit up. She winced when she saw her face – one half pale as the snow, the other half burned so badly she wouldn't recognize her.
"You are alive," Astrid chocked out. "Thank Sithis."
"We have to get you out of here and get some help—"
"No," she cut Méra off, her voice weak but firm, her hand clutching her belly. Méra saw she was bleeding heavily. "Listen to me, please. There's much I have to say, and not much time," her voice was trembling with every word. She leaned against the wall with the help of the Listener, who fell in silence, waiting for what she had to say, but then, suddenly, it struck her like thunder.
"It was you," Méra breathed out, her hands leaving her, but she stayed kneeling on the ground.
"I'm so very sorry," Astrid said no more than a whisper after a little pause. "Maro… He said that by giving you to them, he would leave the Dark Brotherhood alone. Forever."
Méra was only half-aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks, but it surprised Astrid. She had never seen her cry before.
"I was such a fool. It's all my fault, Méra. You are the best of us, and I nearly killed you… as I've killed everyone else," her last words were almost hysterical, her one eye teary. She reached for her hand, but Méra pulled her arm away before she could reach it.
"How could you do this Astrid?" Méra asked through gritted teeth, her voice shaking. "How could you—I trusted you more than I trusted anyone else."
Astrid couldn't answer. A single drop of tear fell out of her eyes.
After Méra dried her own wet cheeks with her sleeves, she stood up. She wanted to leave her there to die, to suffer, but her weak voice stopped her again.
"I just wanted things to stay the way they were! Before Cicero… before the Night Mother… Before you. I thought I could save us if I sold you out to Maro… but I was wrong. But you're alive, Méra! Thank Sithis, you are alive. There's still a chance to start over, to rebuilt. That's why I did… this."
Méra couldn't understand first what Astrid was referring to, but she followed her gaze. Her eyes wandered to the wound on her stomach, to the dagger next to her, to the nightshade…
"I prayed to the Night Mother. I am the Black Sacrament."
"By Sithis!" Méra heard Nazir's quiet voice, reminding her for the first time since she came here that they were not alone with Astrid.
"You were right," Astrid went on. "Cicero was right. The Night Mother was right. The old ways guided the Dark Brotherhood for centuries. I was a fool to oppose them. And to prove my sincerity, I have prayed for a contract. You lead this Family now. I give you the Blade of Woe," she pulled the long dagger out of her belt. "…so you can see it through. You must kill me."
Méra took the dagger out of her hand, watching the blade as it gleamed with a red light, like there was always blood on it. She looked up at Astrid again, for a long, strained second, before she sank the blade into her heart. She kept it there for a while, her head bowed, but she jumped on her feet the second she pulled the weapon out. She was unable to look at her face any second longer.
She hurried out of the Sanctuary and only stopped next to Shadowmere's lake. Méra leaned her shoulder against a tree, her knees trembling, and she was surprised they didn't give in completely. Her mind was filled with everything that happened, all different emotions churning inside her like a storm. She sensed as Nazir and Babette stopped behind her, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. Her gaze was blank, empty, until the familiar voice brought her back to reality.
Listener.
Méra raised her head only slightly, wishing she could shut off the Night Mother's voice too.
Astrid is dead. It is as it should be. May she find redemption in the Void.
"I hope she won't," she said loudly, turning towards the ruins. Nazir and Babette watched her silently.
While you live, the Dark Brotherhood lives. We must fulfil our contract. Emperor Titus Mede II must be eliminated.
Speak with Amaund Motierre at the Bannered Mare in Whiterun. He will know the true Emperor's location.
"She spoke to you again, didn't she?" Nazir asked not long after the Night Mother fell silent again.
Méra found his dark eyes, and she took a deep breath. She couldn't fall apart, not now; she couldn't let herself.
"Find some way to dig up the Night Mother from the ruins, then you and Babette go to the Dawnstar Sanctuary. Our family lives on, Nazir."
"What? But everyone's dead. What should we do?"
"I am the Listener, Nazir. You have to trust me."
"You're right," he admitted in a low voice, even though at this point, it seemed hopeless to rebuild the Family. "But what are you going to do?"
Méra sighed. "I'm going to kill the Emperor."
Nazir smiled, and it was the most pleased, most honest smile that Méra had ever seen from him. "Go. Go, my Listener."
The same thing that drove her when she killed Maro's agents was driving her again while she rode to Whiterun, except this time, it was pure anger without any hint of fear. Exhaustion didn't reach her and she rode all day and all night, before she finally reached the city.
It was daytime, and the gates were open, so she could freely make her way into the always busy, open streets. People eyed her with curiosity or fear, perhaps both, while she walked up on the main street. She had painted back the black warpaint around her eyes she always used, hood on her head, but she let her red locks fall on her shoulders.
The Bannered Mare was always filled, no matter if it was day or night, and this time wasn't an exception. Méra walked to the innkeeper, who stepped back at the sight of her. "Amaund Motierre. Where is he?"
The woman swallowed hard, her voice high-pitched and trembling while she spoke. "I-I can't give out any information about my—"
"I won't ask a second time," Méra said calmly, quietly, slipping the Blade of Woe out of her sleeve. No one could notice her except the innkeeper.
"Alright, calm down," she laughed nervously. "Motierre. He's in the last room on the first floor."
Méra smiled sweetly, hiding back the dagger. "Thank you."
She hurried up the stairs and found the room quickly. It was locked, so she knocked twice, only to receive an angry shout from Motierre. "I said I didn't wish to be disturbed!"
"Sithis is due a soul, Motierre," Méra said calmly. "Wouldn't you agree?"
The silence that followed her words made Méra think she should just break into the room, but before she could, she heard the soft click and the door opened, revealing a very shocked looking Motierre.
"By the gods. You… you're alive! But I heard… your Sanctuary… please," suddenly, his voice became more desperate, inviting Méra into the room and shutting the door close. "You mustn't think I had anything to do with that! I wanted the Emperor dead! I still do! It was Maro! He was the one who—"
"The Emperor," Méra cut him off, her voice cool and calm. "The real Emperor. Where is he?"
Motierre's lips slowly curled up into a smile. "You mean after all this the Dark Brotherhood still honour the contract? This is amazing! Wonderful!"
"The Emperor, Motierre."
"Yes, yes," he cleared his throat. "He's still in Skyrim, but not for long. You have to hurry. He's onboard his ship, the Katariah, moored offshore in the Solitude Inlet."
Méra gave a short nod and turned around to leave, fingers around the handle, but she looked back over her shoulder. "Commander Maro?"
Motierre laughed devilishly. "Oh, yes, I thought you want to settle that score. Last time I heard he was at the Solitude Docks, conducting the Emperor's departure."
"See you later, Motierre."
