How Fragile the Forging
Chapter 7
The Dragonborn had seen many wonders in her short life, but none quite as breathtaking as the White-Gold Tower. She stared up at the pristine spire. She had seen it all the way to the Imperial City, using it as a beacon to her destination. Now that she was there, she couldn't help but admire it. She knew she was gawking, but who wouldn't? The citizens here saw it every day, but had they ever really looked at it?
Inside that tower were libraries that once belonged to a priesthood known as the Ancestor Moths, or so she had read. What had become of them was unknown, but the Imperial library had survived the Great War whereas the documents of other county castles hadn't been as fortunate. No doubt the greed of the Dominion had preserved it.
If the gods were smiling on her, she would find some record of this Chancellor Ocato dictating a set of armor to her family matron. The likelihood of her getting in was small; as far as she knew, the library was not open to the public. Still, she had to try. She had traveled all this way! She would ask politely, and if they refused, she would observe the palace for a few days before taking matters into her own hands. They hadn't elected her Master of the Thieves' Guild for nothing.
She was informed by two guards that she was free to explore some of the lower level, but the rest of the palace was off-limits. Alyssa wasn't discouraged; surely if she talked to someone of importance, and explained her situation they would relent. After all, how much of a threat could a young Breton woman heavy with child be?
Apparently, the Legion didn't take chances with anyone. She found herself accosted by the very same guards when she tried to enter an official-looking room. She argued with them heatedly, demanding an audience with 'anyone with half a brain'. This did not go over well with the Legionnaires, but had managed to draw the attention of an ancient-looking Altmer in fine crimson robes.
He had been sitting alone in the official room when the commotion roused him from his solitude. He walked over to investigate. He saw the backs of two guards, growling orders at some young female. At least, from what he could hear; he couldn't see past the lumbering Imperials.
They shifted enough that he caught a glimpse of a Breton woman. Stepping closer and around, he was finally able to look at her full on. What he saw shocked him.
He raised his hand in the air, gaining the angry trio's attention. He motioned for the guards to step back, who obeyed silently. Alyssa watched the old Altmer come nearly nose-to-nose with her. His look was unnerving. When he lifted her chin to inspect her more, she was tempted to slap his hand away. His voice was rough, but firm.
"Yes... but for the hair and height… the very same." He removed his hand from her face and placed both nonchalantly in front of himself. "What is your name, young lady?"
"Alyssa Wulfe, of High Rock." Though Skyrim had been the main attraction of the dragons, the other provinces had heard and a few had even seen the winged beasts. They also heard how the Dragonborn, a Breton woman from Riften, had saved the Northern Province, not to mention the rest of Nirn from the evil Alduin. Having no desire to draw attention to her in any way, the Dragonborn had stuck to the title she used before arriving in Skyrim.
"High Rock, you say? Hmm…" This Altmer was really beginning to unnerve her. The way he looked her up and down would have left her disgusted if she wasn't so sure he was not lusting after her, but merely committing her to memory.
The ancient Elf bowed his head, clucking his tongue. "Where are my manners? I am Chancellor Lathenil. How may I be of service to you, Lady Alyssa?"
Finally, someone who would listen to her! Relaxing a bit, the Dragonborn smiled shyly. "I have traveled far in the hopes of entering your libraries."
"Oh? Well I am afraid that is a request I cannot satisfy. You must understand, the items there are precious; we can't let just anyone in."
Alyssa deflated. So much for that. She curtseyed, not wishing to seem rude- especially since they would be seeing more of her the next few days- until they didn't. "I understand. Thank you for your time, Chancellor."
She turned to leave when the Altmer spoke again. "Now, if you wouldn't mind sating an old man's curiosity… what is it you were hoping to find?"
She faced the chancellor again. "I was looking for a document issued by a Chancellor Ocato."
The Elf started slightly at the name, as if she had confirmed something for him. She continued, hoping she might sway him. "He issued armor to my ancestor. I was hoping it would have an address or even a city to direct me in my search." Whatever she had expected the ancient Altmer to do, it wasn't laugh. The mer seemed positively ecstatic.
Settling down to his respectable demeanor, Chancellor Lathenil directed her to the chamber he had come from. "I was about to have tea. Would you care to join me? I am sure you must be tired from your travels, and no doubt need to rest. A few pastries to refresh you, perhaps?"
Well this was certainly a change from a moment ago. She nodded, entering the large chamber. The walls and floor were made of a sturdy, pristine stone that she couldn't name, with a matching circular table. Velvet-lined seats surrounded it. The Altmer spoke to the guards in hushed tones before joining her. The two Imperials left through a side door, causing the Breton to quirk an eyebrow.
"Off to fetch a few things for me. Now," His bones creaked as he sat down, "the name Ocato. Are you familiar with it? He was not only a chancellor here, but the potentate during the Oblivion Crisis. And for a time after that." The Elf seemed wistful.
"Did… did you know him?" Alyssa hated to ask, since that would date the chancellor in front of her to more than two hundred years old; something that could easily be taken as an insult if she was wrong.
Fortunately, he nodded. "Yes. He was a good friend. Even brought me to the position I hold now." He motioned with his arms at the room.
"Perhaps you would be kind enough to…" The Breton wasn't sure what to ask. Did she really expect him to remember something as simple as a piece of paper issuing armor to a Nord woman? He looked at her expectantly with a twinkle in his eye.
Just then, the tea and pastries arrived. Once the Imperial woman set the tray down, he motioned for Alyssa to help herself to a small cake while he poured her tea. She sipped appreciatively, murmuring pleasure in between bites. He smiled, his wrinkled face cracking more. "Same manners, too."
She quirked her head, not comprehending the strange mer. This was a chancellor? Seemed a bit like a merry man to her.
One of the guards returned with a delicate-looking paper roll. The Altmer thanked him, turning towards the young Breton. He looked ready to hand her the article before pulling it back slightly. "If I may ask… what do you know of your ancestor? What was her name?"
It was Alyssa's turn to start. She had never mentioned it was a woman, so how did he know? She ought to feel suspicious of the Elf, but couldn't sense any malice or conniving on his part. He seemed to think it a fun game. What was the harm? "Aliana. She was a Nord. I believe she lived here in Cyrodiil before coming to High Rock."
"Aliana, eh? Interesting choice." He said cryptically. She was growing a little irritated. Lucky for him, he chose that moment to hand her the document. She consciously unrolled with a gentle touch. It was a simple parchment, and had fared better than it ought to have. The ink was faded, but she could still make out the words.
To Maro Rufus, proprietor of The Best Defense,
The High Chancellor-Potentate Ocato wishes a special armor to be crafted for the Hero of Kvatch, in honor of her hand in the victory over Mehrunes Dagon. You will be assisted in your efforts, for the armor must meet certain specifications. You no doubt understand the privilege that has been bestowed upon you to carry out this order. The Imperial armorers will join you in a week's time with the measurements.
Chancellor Lathenil
Alyssa's large dusky eyes were as big as they had ever been. There had to be some sort of error. She had heard the tales of the famous Hero of Kvatch, who stopped the evil Daedric Prince from enslaving Tamriel. But to believe that her lineage hailed from the Champion of Cyrodiil? Impossible!
"I am sorry for you to have gone to all this trouble. But there must be a mistake." The Breton handed the paper back to the Altmer. "Did the potentate issue another set of armor, perhaps?"
Chancellor Lathenil laughed again. "Surprised? I knew you would be. She no doubt never told anyone who she really was in High Rock. No, there is no mistake My Dear. If you didn't notice, I am the one who wrote out that issue. Extraordinary woman. I knew her briefly, but she was… unforgettable." He said with mirth.
Alyssa was almost reeling. It was too much to behold! Her ancestor, a hero! But why should she be surprised? After all, was the Breton not the Dragonborn? It seemed heroism ran in the family.
The old Altmer smiled warmly. "I knew who you were the minute I saw you… by the way, you have been misinformed. Her name may have been Aliana in your homeland, but here, she was known as Lysara."
She remembered now! She had seen that name twice before, in the cities she had researched the castle ledgers. The Nord woman owned properties in the counties, but little else was said of her. Certainly no mention of being the Hero of Kvatch.
"But… are you certain? I don't mean to question you, it's just… hard to believe." He nodded in understanding.
"Lysara saved this land with the heir to the throne of Tamriel, Martin Septim. You should be very proud to come from such a strong woman. No doubt it runs in the family…" He gave Alyssa a meaningful look that she wasn't sure she wanted to understand.
The Dragonborn looked thoughtful before addressing the chancellor again. "There was a letter to her, from a monk named Jauffre. Do you have information on him as well?"
The ancient Altmer sighed, a sadness reaching his eyes. "There is no harm in telling you, I suppose. He was the Grandmaster of the Blades, an ancient sect that protected the Emperor. I believe they were dragon slayers before that." His look lingered on her eyes, watching her for a reaction. "If you wish to find out more, I am afraid most of the history of the Blades is lost. They were wiped out before the Great War began."
The second guard came in, hauling an ornate-looking chest. He sat it carefully before the Breton and chancellor. He bowed, and then departed. The Altmer motioned for Alyssa to open the chest. She leaned over the arm chair and lifted the heavy lid. Inside was the most beautiful armor she had ever seen. It appeared to be made of leather, ebony and steel. The cuirass was lined with jewels and gold trim. Despite the many stones, it appeared to be light armor.
"This rightfully belongs to you…" Lathenil looked on as the young Breton ran an appreciative hand over the armament.
"It is incredible…" It would be a little big for her; her matron must have been a true Nord in the sense of height. Still, to have something so precious… an heirloom. It was wonderful!
Nonchallantly, the chancellor looked around the room, feigning an indifferent manner. "Do not worry about taking it with you. I can have it sent to Riften if you like."
Alyssa's head whipped up to stare at the Altmer, who returned it with a steady gaze.
How did…?
"… yes. A very likeness indeed…"
It was time to go. She appreciated the efforts of the Altmer, but this went beyond unnerving. "Thank you, Chancellor Lathenil. I will not soon forget your kindness." Or how much he gave her the creeps.
As she rose, the Old Mer escorted her to the entrance. She curtseyed for good measure, and made a hasty retreat.
"Lady Alyssa!"
She turned to face Lathenil, not wanting to be rude despite her feelings.
"If you have time, might I recommend a visit to the Arboretum? They have many beautiful statues there. There's one specifically that might interest you. There was a similar one in Kvatch before it fell to the Dominion. Its likeness still stands in the gardens."
She nodded, and was about to turn away when he stopped her short again. "And if you have just a bit more time after that, you should see the statue of Akatosh in the Temple district. It is truly remarkable. Built by no man!"
If he tried to stop her once more, she would have forgone politeness and kept clipping away from him. He was almost frightening.
The ancient Altmer shook his head, looking wistful again. "Ah, your Highness… what pretty children you sired."
The Dragonborn decided to indulge her curiosity. She was directed to the lavish garden. Large, weathered statues intricately lined the pathways. Most of them were of the gods. She made sure to stop before the statue of Mara and offer a prayer for Balimund. Her heart constantly ached for him, but she knew that wherever he was, he was in a peaceful place. One she hoped to join him in one day.
She lifted her eyes to the statue next to the goddess of love. She blinked. It… couldn't be…
Alyssa walked up to the marble figure entranced. A worn brass plate at the base noted:
Lysara, Champion of Cyrodiil.
This was not what took her breath away. It was the fact that she was looking at a statue of herself.
