Darker Side of Life: Dreams of Death
Ezio made his way to the room Olav had specified, a handy rusted key snugly fitted between his fingers, clenched to the palm of the hand. The hallway wasn't very long; with Cyrodiil's tax rate, and Bruma's standards, the Tap n' Tack didn't get much in the way of revenue, even with the flow of Assassins in and out of Cyrodiil. Therefore, not many rooms were available to the boy, who was even still trying to grasp the ideas behind becoming an Assassin.
His mind floated to Altair, as well. He was a mysterious man, and his motives never did seem all that clear to Ezio, an expert at the job. That meant he was a highly trained killer, able to keep his conscience at bay whenever necessary, his nerves steeled to that of a heartless villain. Maybe he found solace in something, some inner peace that allowed such a work to be done. Whatever it was, it was a quality Ezio did not have.
In the time of battle, he executed his enemies easily enough. They were in his way, nothing but obstacles that instincts told him to remove. After the adrenaline passed, and the anger subsided, the blood was still definitely on his hands. Ulrich Leland, and now that man who was impersonating Altair…
Both were men he was told needed to die. He didn't care for the whole story, nor would he ever. Nothing in his mind, save for the raw adrenaline rush and instincts pushing him on, justified the murder of another man.
He had finally made it to his room, and placed the key into the keyhole. He turned it, producing a rusty "click!", and the door opened easily enough. As the boy walked into the room, he saw his breath, reminding him of the sheer cold that was Bruma, and possibly much of Skyrim. Maybe he would just sleep in his robes tonight, he thought to himself as he laid down in the bed, pulling the rags that were meant to be sheets over him, and embracing himself tightly to keep all the warmth to himself.
Yes…warmth…Skingrad…Auditore Hall…he needed to get back to there. To get back to where he was supposed to be, and out of all this murderous nonsense. His eyes closed as he tried to remember the faces of his father and brother, his sister and mother… even of that stuck-up Count, and the familiar accent that all Skingrad had taken as its own.
His mind was finally filled with the blank darkness that was definitely sleep. His breath became easy, but as time went by, had become disgruntled and fearful once more. Instead of dreams about his family, and his goals, he saw something…very different.
He was on a hill. If he had to take a good guess, he would say he was just outside of one of the southern cities…Kvatch, maybe…the real bone-chilling moments came next, as he was blasted with enormous amounts of heat. He spun to see a huge formation of rock, with what seemed like flames spewing forth from the depths. Monsters poured out of it, the likes of which Ezio had never seen, all coming at him.
"For the Emperor!" he could hear behind him. He turned to see Imperial Soldiers and town guards bearing arms and charging towards the gate. The monsters, hellish creatures wearing the armor of man and bearing twisted versions of swords and axes, bows and staves, returned the soldier's sentiment, charging forth. Blood flew. It didn't pour, or splash, or spill. There was too much force for any of those descriptions to be of any accuracy—it flew. It definitely flew as the parties clashed. The cries of man could be heard. Ezio ducked under one of their attacks, then realized he was taking part in the battle as well.
He drew his blade and faced the demons coming at him—whatever this was, it wasn't something he understood. He ducked under one of the demon's attacks and tried to slash upward with his shortsword, however he was blocked by the demon's seemingly impenetrable armor. Taken off-guard, he was too weak to block the demon as it brought its axe down upon him, smashing him to the ground.
Blood seeped from Ezio as he realized he had just been axed in the chest, and the gaping wound left behind was something he wouldn't recover from. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the axe, refusing to let the demon retrieve its weapon. It struggled against him, pain filling Ezio's mind as he slowly lost consciousness, until a blade slipped between the complexly laid plates of the armor, killing the beast in one blow.
A white-robed man stepped out from behind him. At first, Ezio thought of Altair, then the man removed his hood, revealing a white-haired old man. Ezio forced himself to stand as the man knelt beside him, speaking in a language Ezio couldn't understand. "What are you saying?" Ezio said through his teeth, trying his damndest to keep from screaming in pain.
To no avail, however. He couldn't understand the man. Maybe the man couldn't understand him, either? Finally, he heard a name he recognized. Septim. "Wait!" Ezio said, grabbing the man by the shoulders. He began to melt, flesh becoming blood before Ezio's eyes. "No! Wait, oh god no!" he yelled, the axe fading from existence. Was this the end, he wondered, as he felt lightheaded.
Light shined into his eyes as he awoke, Olav slapping his face. "Wake up, boy! You're keeping us all up, you might as well be up, too." He said, pulling Ezio up. "Bad dreams? It happens sometimes…but you were saying an awful lot of nothing, there, it seemed. Mind telling me where you learned to speak that language? I think I'd pick it up as well."
Ezio pushed his hand off his shoulder, his sweating coming to a halt. He was talking in a weird language? The dream was burned into his mind. The old man talking to him in a weird language, the battle that had broken out on the hill…
"Anyway, Altair seems to have gotten better. No crazy dreaming on his end, so he's perfectly sane. We hope, you never can tell with Master Assassins. They're like gods of war, they are. You send one, and I mean one on a mission, and it gets done, no matter what. They're scary like that."
"Then why the pairing? Learn about whatever this…" he pointed to his eye, "…is from him and him alone. Let me be!"
"Like I said, you were destined to become an Assassin, anyway."
"More like doomed."
"Different words, different connotations. Same meaning." Olav replied, swiftly winning the verbal battle. "We have a few missions ready for you, but fortunately you're on your way out after one of them. You see, we have a small problem of town peace…"
"You want someone killed." Ezio said cynically.
"Only if necessary." Olav said, waving a hand to dismiss Ezio's "enthusiasm" about the affair. "Altair is already prowling the city about the case. However, you have your own end of the mission." Ezio looked up, curious, "But first, you must hear about the mission."
"Does this talking in circles never end? Speak your piece already, man!" Ezio shouted, his hands clenched in frustration.
"Not much the dramatic one, are you?"
"I don't tend to be after dreams like the one I had." Ezio retorted. "Will you just explain the mission and my connection with it already?"
"I see. A well-known couple around these parts, Arnora and Jorundr, have recently returned to Bruma. Now, the problem is that one of them was arrested for the murder of quite a few people, and now his money is unavailable to Arnora."
"This involves us…how?"
"The Assassins seek peace amongst the inhabitants of not only Cyrodiil, but all Tamriel. That being the case, we naturally need to get involved in the people's affairs." He looked at the boy. "'We work in the dark, to serve the light. We are Assassins.'"
"Different than the many definitions of the word I've heard."
"Because we're not the same Assassins of which you've heard." Ezio looked Olav in the face in disgust.
"Does it matter who pays us to kill who? We're still the ones staining our hands with blood!"
"You look only at the act of murder and judge us by it. It is a large part of our life, and a larger part of your life than you yet realize, boy." He said. "We kill the one to save the hundred. We hold the blade to the neck of the man who would seek the destruction of all men; we sway tyrants with ransom and information, we turn the very tides of war with our hidden blades."
"And who judges who is to die?" Ezio burst out.
"The ones we kill are the ones who have judged themselves for death."
"This makes no sense! How am I expected to murder at the beck and call of some man I have never met!"
"Because he speaks for the man you were incapable of protecting. The man who died because of another's hesitation to do what was necessary for the country, that same man who ran the whole of Cyrodiil, and all Tamriel!" Ezio paused; he was not expecting such a retort. "It would have been different if that were a growing experience for you, but if you still hesitate, you will cause far more death than you anticipate."
Ezio stood up, and began moving to the exit. "Speak to Arnora. See if you can figure out what exactly happened. Hopefully we shall avoid any murder, but if it comes down to it, Auditore, I expect you to not hold your blade." The boy nodded gruffly, moving to the exit, angered by the fact he lost the argument.
The walk to Arnora's home had been largely uneventful as the heavily-robed man trotted through the snow. Somewhere, the Master Assassin prowled, looking at Ezio. Examining him. It was unnerving, however he finally found the resolve to speak with Arnora about the events transpiring around the loss of money.
The boy knocked on the door, snow falling faintly on his hood. He breathed out, his breath visible on the cold air still. He waited for what seemed like hours, still wondering about his dream, his motives…was it even worth returning home, now? He was a murderer, and getting better at the act day by day. Not only that, his mind was starting to rationalize the murder of each person. It disgusted him, but at the same time, his mind slowly deemed it more and more necessary.
He finally heard footsteps, and composed himself. When the door opened, a lovely woman stood before him. "Hello there."
"Who are you?" the woman asked, worried about something.
"Call me Ezio. May I know the name of the lovely lady before me…?" he asked, a smile crossing his cheeks as he lifted his hand to just under her chin.
"Ooh, aren't you the charmer?" Arnora giggled, and moved Ezio's hand aside. "But do not take me for the fool. Why are you here?"
"Can't a nice woman such as yourself be visited by a kind nobleman every once in a while?" Ezio responded. This woman, Arnora, responded well to flattery. He cursed himself in his mind as he rationalized the usage of such a tactic against the woman. The woman folded her arms, smiling.
"Come inside. You've certainly earned my attention for a few minutes." Arnora said, gesturing that Ezio walk inside as well. "Why don't you remove your hood, nobleman?" she asked. Ezio complied, removing the hood. His brown hair, which he had not the chance to tie into a ponytail, fell around his neck. He turned just quick enough to be embraced by the woman, a passionate kiss following. Ezio, unsure of what was going on for a few seconds, decided to go with the flow, his arms rising behind her and pulling her into an embrace.
After a few moments, she finally released, looking slightly disappointed. "You claim to be a nobleman, then?" she asked, sitting down at a table.
"Indeed."
"And yet you carry no coinpurse on you?" Ezio's eyes widened with shock.
"Are you a cutpurse or something?" he asked, outrage clear in his voice.
"No offence, but for a charming boy, you're an easy mark. I probably could have made off with your fancy wardrobe as well while kissing you."
"So your love is farce?"
"I have a husband, you know." Arnora said. Ezio couldn't help but be a little proud. He was the better one, here. Sneakier, he thought, than she. Stealing, not coin, but information.
"Oh. Hunting, I suppose?"
"No, he's…indisposed, at the moment. As in, in jail."
"What happened?" Ezio asked, still standing as he had not been offered a seat.
"He turned out to be a robber. He was caught after a bad bust, and arrested." She said, her voice rather easygoing.
"You speak rather casually for your spouse being arrested." Ezio said.
"I just kissed you to get to your money. Are you sure you'd put apathy towards that lout of a husband being arrested?"
"I was just making a remark."
"Indeed you were." Arnora was nonplussed by the conversation, Ezio could tell.
"Do you know exactly what happened?"
"Why would I tell you anything about that? Why are you so interested in these affairs, anyway?"
Ezio was about to respond when he heard a knock on the door. Arnora looked to the door, and stood. "Expecting company?" Ezio asked, walking towards the door, as well.
"No, I'm not su—" Ezio nearly screamed as the eye activated, interrupting Arnora. The woman was blue, and there was red beyond the door, plain as day. Ezio drew the shortsword strapped under his cloak, pushing the woman aside as the door caved in. There were men wearing black cloaks, daggers drawn.
"Who are you?" Ezio demanded, his blade at the ready as the men began intruding in the home.
"We are of the Dark Brotherhood. The woman you protect has been sentenced for death."
"The Dark Brotherhood?" At Ezio's question, a few of the people exchanged glances.
"An Assassin who does not know our name? Intriguing." Said one of them. "Perhaps we could have use of you. But at a later date. We have a contract."
"Contracted killers." Ezio stated. "Assassins."
"In the underworld, Assassin, that word has more meaning than what we do. You must be new to the neighborhood to not know of this." They looked at the woman. "Kill her. Spare the Assassin if possible, disarm him if he attempts to stop us, kill him if he manages to kill one of us." The men charged gracefully. Ezio's eye charted their course, and before one could deliver a punch to his gut to take him to the ground, Ezio stabbed his shoulder.
He screamed in pain as Ezio grabbed the dagger off the man. The others began to focus on Ezio. Out of five people, he had three facing him down and one incapacitated. The last one Arnora would have to hold off as long as possible.
One came at him from the left while another attacked from the right. Flinching on instinct, Ezio merely dodged the attacks, instead of countering as he felt urged to. One came at him from behind, trying to plant his dagger firmly into his neck. Ezio spun just in time, however, to catch the arm by the wrist, and pull the man into his blade, blood oozing from the wound.
He pulled the dying killer before him, using him as a human shield against some of the other's attacks. Finally he shoved the dead man on one of his foes, disabling him temporarily so he could focus on the other man, lunging in with his knife. The killer deftly leapt out of the attack's range, and he began moving in for a counterattack, when Ezio's eye showed him how to counter the blow.
He didn't try and fight the momentum from his lunge. Instead, he followed it, falling into a roll, and getting out of the counter's way. His leg landed solidly giving him ample power to plunge his dagger straight into the throat of the man. Blood flew from the wound, the man not even having a dying scream. Ezio grabbed the second dead man's dagger, also forcefully removing the first dead man's dagger. Holding two daggers, the third man called for help.
"You are proving to be more trouble than you're worth, Assassin." The fourth one said, walking away from where Arnora was hiding.
"That's what they all say about me." Ezio replied. Olav's words filled Ezio's mind—killing the one to save the hundred. The bad to die so the good can live. Living in that darkness, that evil, was necessary so that the light and good could go on.
"A funny guy. I apologize, Assassin. You are now going to die."
"Bring it on, murderers." Ezio taunted, daggers at the ready. One coated in blood, the other still thirsting for it. They attacked, both at once. The eye guided him on kill number three, who had attacked a few split seconds before the fourth one. He brought his blade down on Ezio, who's eye had already plotted exactly how to destroy the poor man. He sidestepped the attack, his focus no longer on the fourth.
The left hand dagger went for the elbow, stabbing through it cleanly and disabling the arm. Using the hilt of the dagger as a handle to pull the man closer, he pushed the blade into the man's throat, and threw him at the fourth man, losing his left dagger in the process.
"Not just a novice Assassin, but a highly-trained killer." The fourth man remarked, smirking as though he were winning. "This fight alone will make a name for you in the underworld, boy. I hope you know that." He drew a sword from his pitch-black robes, pointing it at the boy. Ezio had already lost his sword in the combat, but still had his dagger and his Eye.
"A name that will have no meaning once I have done what I seek to do." Ezio's response was sharp, defensive.
"Names never lose meaning, Mister Ezio." The reply came. "And do be more careful about throwing your name around down here in the underworld. That can be the one fatal mistake of this little game we're playing."
"It's not even my real first name."
"Please, don't play the idiot, here. Your accent pins you as a man from Skingrad, and there is only one nobleman Ezio in Skingrad. Of the Auditore family, a family of highly-respected Assassins." Ezio was slightly shocked at the news.
"Now that you know so much about us…" Ezio looked around, "…it is only good that you die from us." A blade slipped through the man's chest easily and swiftly, revealing the Master Assassin behind him. "You're not bad, yourself, Auditore. A small band of Dark Brotherhood Mercenaries died by your hand. They're trained since birth, you know. It's a miracle you won…or is it?"
Ezio's eye sensed Altair as golden. He too, must have shared the super-Eye. The eye promptly deactivated. "It's an interesting ability, certainly, being cursed by Eden." Ezio commented.
"Who are you?"
"Arnora. It's funny Jorundr was arrested, as opposed to you." Altair interjected as Ezio tried to answer. He merely pulled his hood back over his head and folded his arms. "Not much escapes the eye of the Assassins, madame. Especially not fraud and murder."
"What are you talking about?" Altair's hidden blade was launched with a shink, and he slammed her against the wall.
"You had Jorundr arrested for a crime you both committed. The robbery of a small caravan. By order of the Royal Affairs and Removals Office, you are hereby relieved of your personal vault, your ill-gotten earnings, and any weaponry and jewelry you may have."
"'Royal Affairs and Removals'?" Ezio asked, walking towards Altair. "And what gives you the right?"
"The Assassin Brotherhood is formally known as the Royal Affairs and Removals Office. As a Master Assassin, I am granted very nearly all the rights of a Prince to the throne." He looked at Arnora. "And you are to be arrested."
"W-wait…!"
"And before you claim innocence, I've already got plenty of evidence to the contrary. Jorundr's testimony and cooperation to get to the place you both stashed the loot really helped, too. Goods, which are forfeit to you now." Guards began walking into the room. "I've found her, sirs." He said as the guards stood beside her. "And now we're off, Auditore."
"Already?"
"Yes. Being an Assassin is pressing work." Altair replied. "Especially since you're stuck with the Brotherhood's go-to guy for everything."
"Surely there are other Master Assassins."
"If we could churn out Master Assassins like we could Assassins, or even Denmasters, life would be a lot easier. There are two, maybe three Master Assassins in Cyrodiil." Altair answered. "Anyone who'd attack us is stupid, anyone who's marked by us is dead. Simple as that. Doesn't mean we don't go all over all the time."
"You seem a lot more open than you were before."
"You seem a lot more skilled than you were before. We're headed to Kvatch, so get ready to be gone awhile." He replied, and began walking away. Ezio looked at the guards dealing with Arnora, and followed suit with Altair.
Altair and Ezio arrived at the Tap and Tack, where they were waved down by Olav. "Good work with those Dark Brotherhood lackeys, Ezio."
"I've been thinking about what you've said…"
"Yes?"
"Maybe it is better to kill people to defend the innocent. That doesn't mean I like it."
"It's a rare and frightful day," Altair interrupted, "when there is an Assassin who enjoys the job. I'm more surprised you, being a youth, don't revel in the violence."
"Says the prodigal Master Assassin." Olav responded. "Anyway, Kvatch sent out an urgent distress. An extreme event, actually. High-level risk."
"How high?"
"High enough you're not the only Master Assassin we're sending in." Altair folded his arms. Whether in surprise or not, Ezio couldn't tell.
"So we're pulling the others in, too?"
"You said there were only three in Cyrodiil?" Ezio asked.
"All three are headed in, Ezio." Olav said. "And because of your binding with Altair, so are you."
"What happened in Kvatch?" Altair asked.
"We don't know. That's what has the Grandmaster so worried." Olav said. "They sent out the distress then went silent. It could be Templar activity, but whatever it is, it isn't something minor. That high a risk distress call is not something you send out every week as a drill. Something's wrong."
"Will we stop by Skingrad on the way?"
"No. You're headed straight to Kvatch. No towns on the way—too important."
"Business as usual." Altair commented, grabbing some bags. "That blackwater horse of yours will make the trip just fine. We should head out within the hour. Be ready, Auditore."
"Right…" Ezio muttered. He was running right by home…but not visiting. He looked to the sky. "…if there really are Nine Divines, why do they curse me so?"
