A/N: Yes, I know I've been bad I've been really really really really bad at updating lately. Shame on me! So I'm gonna now sit in a corner and think about all the wrong I've done while you all read this. Enjoy!
"Now will that be all your questions?" Kydin asked tiredly as they sat around the campfire. After his feat of slaying the dragon earlier in the day Kydin prepared himself for the countless number of questions his traveling party would no doubt have for him on his unique performance. Thankfully, he was able to convince them to hold all their inquiries till they made camp for the night in the now deserted village of Haven. For the last few hours he provided answers and explanations of his unique ability, his Thu'um or in other words Voice, and its origins.
Nearby a small wagon that Kydin had found in the village was nearly filled to the brim with bones, horns, and spikes harvested from the High Dragon's corpse. The materials were desperately needed to fix up his damaged armor. Truthfully he had taken more from the dragon than he needed, but if the materials for dragon parts were as rare and desired in Skyrim then the extra coin in his pocket would be a welcoming sound. Beside the cart was tied to a stout sturdy horse that, with a stroke of luck, Leliana had stumbled across in the village when they had searched the small huts and buildings for any supplies they might need for tomorrow's journey. At the news Kydin couldn't help but think that perhaps here in this strange world that Lady Nocturnal, the Thieves Guild source of luck, was smiling down on him. For the small draft horse would most certainly be better at playing the part of the beast of burden than he would.
"I guess." Alistair began with a touch of uncertainty as he tried to wrap his head around everything. "For now that is. Frankly I'm trying to make sense of how you have talking dragons back home. That is just—weird—unsettling even." He rubbed at his temples as though a headache was undoubtedly starting to come on. Kydin could relate as the first time he heard about all this had his own head spinning for days. "So, this gift you have, this "Voice", allows you to literally shout at dragons in their own language?"
Kydin couldn't help but laugh at the bewildered look on the man's face. "Aye, they can speak in the tongue of us mortals though even those that are more versed at it than others can have difficulty with translating between the two languages. There are just some words that the dragons have no meaning for. A dragon's words in their own language have power. With specific words they can summon fire, ice, even lightning. A fight between dragons is more of a shouting match than a fight with teeth and claws. At least that is the way things are where I come from. Did I not mention that little detail in my story the other night?"
"No, no, no, no," the young man rambled out, "you said that this big scary dragon of yours had magic. I remember very very clearly you failing to mention that "little detail". Magic and the ability to speak are two very different skill sets."
Morrigan for once ignored Alistair's rambling as she looked at Kydin with new-found interest. "And anyone can learn this magic?"
"It takes years of study and practice," Kydin began carefully. The awe in the witch's voice had not gone unnoticed by him. He hoped that she wasn't thinking of trying to learn such magic from him. Not that he would agree to do so, of course. Magic like this was not something that should be entrusted to just anybody. "A skill like this needs to be honed and skilled. Back home a man named Ulfric Stormcloak learned a Shout and challenged the High King of Skyrim."
"Hardly a fair fight." Sten commented.
"Oh, no contest," Kydin agreed grimly. "He killed the king and was given the name "Killer of Kings" by the people after that incident."
Wynne studied him from her perch next to him on the log his back leaned against. "But to you the talent comes naturally?"
"Back home I am known as Dragonborn. With the blood and soul of a dragon in me. Or at least that's how the legend goes." He chuckled. "The talent is born within me."
"Well, that explains what the Guardian was talking about concerning you."
"Aye. My gift earns me more enemies than friends. Even puts me at odds with those that are supposed to be my allies."
"How so?"
Oh, where to begin that particular tale. "An ancient order called the Blades made contact with me not too long ago. They are a group of people who specialize in dragon slaying and were also given the responsibility of protecting the Emperor of Cyrodiil, ruler of my homeland, two hundred years ago. The order since has fallen apart. Few members still exist to this day."
"What happened to them?" Leliana asked.
"The Emperor at the time, two hundred years ago, was assassinated under their watch. With the Oblivion Crisis at the time and after the events of the Great War the Blades fell into great disrepair. The few that still remain with the order have gone into hiding or have been on the run from the Thalmor."
Alistair, like the rest of them, gave a confused look. "I believe we are going to need more details about this Crisis, Great War, Thalmor stuff."
Kydin sighed. He really didn't want to be up all night informing them of days long since passed after the day he had. "Too long of a tale to give you a history lesson," after all that story would be needing one explanation after another with the mentioning of daedra, a dragon blooded line of Imperial royals, Oblivion gates, and a mad cult that had to of course worship the most dangerous and destructive of the sixteen Daedric Princes, Mehrunes Dagon, who sought to destroy the world and bring forth a new era where he would rule the mortal world. Perhaps another day when he hadn't slayed a dragon that was nearly twice the size that he was use to. "All you need to know is that the Oblivion Crisis once threatened the existence of my entire world, but was prevented by an individual only known as the Hero of Kvatch. When the crisis was over it left all nine provinces of Tamriel in a weakened state. And soon followed the Great War that the Thalmor started. Now the Thalmor, the Altmer, are "elven supermacists" who want to put an end to the Empire and believe that elves are the superior ones above all other races. They made quite a list of demands before allowing the war to end. Not many folk were too happy about that."
"What kind of demands did they make?" Leliana continued to question.
"Oh you know, outrageous tributes, disbandment of the Blades, the outlawing of one of our gods, and a large portion of the Empire's land." No one in the Empire was happy about that arrangement. It was also one of the reasons for the rebellion in Skyrim between the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Army. "But getting back to the topic at hand-a member of the Blades, Delphine, made contact with me saying that she could help me in my quest against Alduin. And I admit that she was quite helpful… at first."
"Let me guess," Alistair hazard, "she stabbed you in the back?"
"Ah, so you've heard this tale." He gave a tight smile. "Aye, crashed a Thalmor embassy party, helped track down an old friend of her's, found an ancient Blades headquarters and after all I did for her and her order and she turned her back on me. Refused to give me any more assistance after everything I did."
"Why?"
"She wanted me to slay a dragon."
"But isn't that what you do?" Morrigan asked in a simple obvious kind of tone. "Kill them?"
Kydin sighed. "It's a little more complicated than that I'm afraid." Just thinking about it made his blood run hot with rage. "The dragon she wanted me to slay is a friend of mine."
"Seriously?" The witch scoffed.
"Not all dragons are as bad as Alduin. This one, Paarthurnax, is the leader of the Greybeards, the ones that told me that I was Dragonborn, and is a friend as well as my teacher in the ways of The Voice."
Alistair rubbed his chin in thought. "And this Delphine wants him dead because…..?"
"Now for that explanation I'm afraid a history lesson is necessary." Thankfully, this piece of history would not need so much explanation as the Oblivion Crisis. "As I've told you before at the beginning of time there were the Dragon Wars fought between dragon and man. Alduin, leader of the dragons, saw himself as a god, for all dragons are powerful and immortal, and was convinced that all mortals should serve and worship them. Many other dragons saw their power as enough justification to believe this as well. Eventually, man rebelled."
"If all dragons in your land hold the same power as yourself then the odds were most likely devastating," Sten said.
The qunari man was a real chatty one tonight. This was the most Kydin had ever heard the man speak since being in their company. "Yes, with their Voice and their ability of flight they were greatly outmatched. But no one was prepared for the sudden turn of tide in the war."
Leliana shifted in her seat in anticipation. "What happened?"
"Alduin was betrayed by his first lieutenant, Paarthurnax, his brother." Kydin answered. "Alduin's self proclaimed godhood and his beliefs caused Paarthurnax to turn on him. He and six others betrayed him to teach man the way of The Voice. And with their new teachings mankind out of their hatred of the dragons for their cruelty and oppression created a Shout called Dragonrend. It's the only Shout that dragons are unable to use for no dragon can comprehend the meaning behind it. This particular Shout forces a dragon to the ground for a limited amount of time denying the beast flight."
"Forces the gods to join the mortals on even ground."
"Exactly." Kydin smiled at her. "With the assistance of the dragons three heroes grew in name, Hakon One-Eye, Felldir the Old and Gormlaith Golden-hilt. Together they fought against Alduin and defeated him. Well, temporarily that is. With enough magic they actually sent him forward in time to become my current problem. But still if it were not for Parrthurnax's betrayal then all of mankind would most likely still be enslaved by Alduin."
"How on earth do you send a beast forward into time?" Morrigan said skeptically. "Surely you're making this up."
By an Elder Scroll, of course. One of the most powerful of magical items known in existence in his world. But that was a whole other explanation and topic that he was not in the mood to explain of. "How does one travel between worlds?" He countered instead. "Nothing is ever certain when it comes to magic as my being here is proof enough of that."
Wynne asked a question of her own. "So, if this dragon assisted man in winning the Dragon Wars why would this woman want him dead?"
Because of a timeless grudge that the damn woman would just not let go of. "Because it is said during the war before he turned that Paarthurnax committed terrible crimes against mankind."
"She wasn't even there at the time." Morrigan went on exasperated. "How could she possibly know any better?"
Seems that the witch's skepticism of his tale didn't last very long. "My thoughts exactly and I expressed them so. But apparently the Blades of old kept a record of any known surviving dragons from the war and turns out Paarthurnax is the only one to have lived on except for Alduin. Delphine wants to see him brought to justice for his past."
"So, even though you known of this dragon's past you refuse to slay him?" Alistair asked.
If the ways of the world were only so easy. "The world is not always so black and white. Right from wrong. We all, even dragons, have parts of our pasts that we aren't proud of. Paarthurnax has been meditating and focusing on the Ways of The Voice since the end of the Dragon Wars. He is very well aware of his true nature and does everything in his power to keep himself in check. I believed that even when Delphine claimed that since he had the ability to betray his brother then one day he would do the same to me."
"And do you truly believe that?" Wynne asked softly.
Kydin sighed heavily. "People think that there are more differences than similarities between man and dragons when it's the opposite that's more truthful. When you really look at the facts are the two really so different? Well, more so in my world than yours. Your dragons don't seem too keen on even exchanging a simple greeting." He chuckled thinking back to the battle earlier. The dragons here were certainly much fiercer and wild than the ones back home. "Alduin's greed and desire for power is something that he shares with most mortal men more than he would ever like to admit. While Paarthurnax wants to be something more than his nature defines, he wishes to grow and seek peace within himself. The both of them have their goals and ambitions. Point is Delphine had a lot of nerve to make such an accusation when she herself had stabbed me in the back by giving me an ultimatum. She was the first to betray me not Paarthurnax. Funny how that works, isn't it?"
Sten looked at him as sternly as ever. "Don't you even suspect that one day this dragon will revert back to his old ways? No matter how old and wise you claim him to be?"
Kydin thought for a moment before replying. He had thought on this matter many times before. "I admit I'm not entirely certain, but Paarthurnax told me something once that stuck with me. "What is better - to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?" Makes you think doesn't it? What he is doing isn't easy, but in the end I believe that all his efforts make him stronger for it."
Now there was one part of his story that Kydin had failed to mention and that was his ability to absorb the souls of fallen dragons he had slain. The reason for this was because today after slaying the High Dragon he did not feel the transfer of power pass through him like he had become use to. For why this time that would change no reason came to mind. Perhaps here some things were a little different, maybe there were forces in this world be it a higher being or magic that prevented him from doing so. Whatever the reason he would worry about it later, no matter how curious it made him.
Silence had fallen over his audience as they processed all he had just told them. "I still can't believe that you have talking dragons back home," Alistair muttered.
The party left Haven early the next morning. With their bedrolls packed and the campfire snuffed out from their morning's breakfast they were prepared to leave within an hour of their rising. The party was all more than ready to leave the village of Haven behind them and begin their journey, as Alistair had explained to him, to Redcliffe. The trip was about a two days walk on foot, possibly a day and a half if they made good time. And now that Kydin didn't have so many thoughts, questions and theories on his mind when he first woke up in this world he felt a bit more of a need to indulge in conversation and he figured that Alistair was the perfect person to start with. After all, the younger man seemed to be the one leading this group of misfits, the last man of an order that was trying to prevent this Blight with these darkspawn that were endangering the land and had somehow gathered this lot of warriors, mages and rogues to help him in his cause of uniting the land in order to deal with the threat. And one of the steps to reaching that goal was to save an unknown dying man. This entire situation intrigued Kydin and who better to learn more about it than the very man who seemed to be at the center of it all.
With the small draft horse secured to the cart Kydin led the animal as he sidled up alongside Alistair and his hound, Bane. "So, who are these ashes for? Who is it you're trying to save?"
It took Alistair a moment to reply as he rubbed away the little sleep that still lingered from his eyes. "His name is Eamon. He's the Arl of Redcliffe."
From the man's tone of voice and how he addressed the man by name instead of his full title first Kydin found it safe to say that Alistair had some sort of personal relationship with him. "You know him well."
A simple head nod from Alistair confirmed Kydin's suspicions. "He raised me when I was a child for a few years before he sent me off to the Chantry. My mother was a serving girl at the castle and when she died he took me in."
Ah, yes, the Chantry. This world's dominate religion and the deity they worshiped, the Maker. Many a time he had heard of that deity these last few days be it from a prayer that Leliana whispered at night or a curse from Alistair like from this morning when Bane had snatched the piece of cheese that was on his master's plate when he wasn't looking. "Any reason why?"
"Well, the Arlessa, his wife didn't really like me all that much. Arl Eamon had only just married her at the time and I guess she was simply jealous of all the attention he had given me," he tried laughing off with a little humor.
"Ah," was all Kydin commented on the subject for he could put the rest of the story together in his head. He had enough experience with nobles and the ways of court to get a sense of what had happened. A gesture like that on the Arl's behalf no doubt had been a gold mine for rumors for both servants and nobility alike. And with a new wife to having to hear such whispers there was a good chance that she just might start to believe them. "And just what kind of disease is the Arl suffering from?" If it was enough for this group to have to go running after a legend then the Arl had to be suffering from something serious.
"It's not so much a disease as it is dark magic that has a strong hold on him." Alistair said grimly. "We are hoping that the ashes are all that they claim to be and wake him up from it."
Before Kydin could ask more on the subject a lone frantic young woman came running up to them from up the road. With her long blonde hair disheveled, her skirts torn and muddy along with the panicked look she wore on her face it was safe to say that something was amiss somewhere further up the road.
"Oh, thank the Maker!" She cried out with more relief than panic as Kydin had expected. " We need help—They attacked the wagon—Please help us! Follow me, I'll take you right too them!" She panted before taking off again without leaving them any room to get a word in.
Alistair had already taken two quick steps to run after her when Kydin pulled him back. "Hold on there."
"What?" Alistair looked at him questionably. "Come on, we have to help."
Kydin's gut was telling him that this wasn't the case. "Don't you think it's a bit odd that a woman with no armor or weapon runs back into danger no matter how hysterical she might be?"
"You're just being paranoid for no reason." Alistair said before breaking from his grip to go after the woman with Bane following closely behind and leaving Kydin behind long enough for him to shake his head at the young man's short sightedness. Kydin might have been new to this world, but he had gained a lot of experience back home when walking the roads of the province. Sure, he may be a tad paranoid at times, but to him it was better to be safe than sorry. A lot of dangers lurked on both sides of any path and one of the most popular threats were bandits, groups of highwaymen and women that lurked in the shadows ready to jump their next victim. And he feared that this might be the case of one.
Kydin quickly looked back at the rest of the group. He needed to act fast before Alistair got himself in over his head. "Morrigan!" he barked. "You're with me. The rest of you stay here and mind my cart, would you?"
"What's going on, Kydin?" Wynne asked as she caught the reigns that Kydin had just tossed to her.
"I don't know, but I fear bandits might be around the next corner. Be on the look out. Come on, Morrigan," he urged as the two of them set off at a fast running pace.
"So, the fool went running off into danger, I assume," Morrigan exasperated as she gave Kydin a quick impressed look at how he was able to keep up with her despite the heavy armor he favoured. After a few months of wearing such equipment his body had developed enough muscle from lugging the stuff around to become accustom to it to the point where he could swear sometimes he felt like he was wearing his old beaten leathers from his old days as a lackey in the Thieves Guild.
"Aye, I'm afraid."
"Typical," she huffed.
Kydin couldn't help but smirk at her response. "I've noticed you don't think much of him." It was actually one of the first things Kydin noticed within the dynamics of the group. Morrigan and Alistair always seemed to be disagreeing about something or at each other's throats. And when they weren't doing that the witch would always take the time to mock or tease the young man whenever the opportunity presented itself.
"The man is far too much of a do-gooder." She spat. "He is naive to the real world around him. Always trying to do the right thing and save everybody all at the same time. It will be his undoing, I tell you. This is a perfect example of it."
In other, more kinder words Alistair still had all the innocence of a pup. And sadly, in a way, Kydin had to agree with Morrigan on that point. The world could be a harsh place where it seemed everyday more people were likely to plant a dagger in your back than to give out a kind and helping hand to someone in need. He himself had learned that life lesson the hard way. To this day he still couldn't believe how naïve he had been in the situation he had found himself in that day. "There are those of us who try to make the world a better or, perhaps in your words, a more bearable place. But there are also those that seek out personal gain and will do whatever it takes to get it."
Morrigan smirked. "Sounds as if you're speaking from experience."
"I was younger then I was then blind to the true workings of the world. I put my trust in the wrong man and nearly died for it." Kydin said grimly. It had all happen just a few years ago when he had met his friend Brynjolf who had made him an offer he couldn't refuse. He had been desperate for coin at the time and joining the Thieves Guild had seemed like the best of options at the time. It wasn't his first choice and at least it was better than leaving him begging for coin in the streets. That life decision had led him to meet the man that he would soon end up cursing for all of time, Mercer Frey, the previous head of the Thieves Guild. When Brynjolf had first brought him down into the Ratways under Riften that was home of the guild the place had been in pretty rough shape when he had first set his eyes on it. At the time certain members believed that they were having a run of bad luck, years of it in fact. And little had they known at the time that they couldn't have been more right. It had all started twenty-five years ago when Mercer had framed the death of his guild head, Gallus Desidenius, on his fellow guild member Karliah forcing her into hiding from them since that day of misplaced betrayal. Kydin had been with the Thieves Guild for less than a year when he crossed paths with Karliah the moment Mercer betrayed him. From her he had found out the truth about Mercer's crimes against the guild and together they ensured that he was brought to justice. But Kydin had come to learn that it wasn't simply the guild Mercer had betrayed but the Daedric prince that he had sworn himself to, Nocturnal the patron of all things secretive. Or more so known and as referred to by the guild "Lady Luck". Mercer had stolen a precious relic of her's known as the Skeleton Key, a key that could open even the most complicated of locks, from the Twilight Sepulcher, home of the Ebonmere; Nocturnal's portal to her realm of Oblivion that also allows her to influence the mortal world with luck. But when Mercer had taken the key for himself he had closed off the portal and so the Thieves Guild luck ran dry. That was until Kydin had returned the key to the Twilight Sepulcher. And the change within the guild was beyond noticeable much to many of the members cheer to see their luck finally turning around. After all was put right and Karliah's name was cleared the guild had made Kydin their new leader, but when he discovered that he was Dragonborn Brynjolf had more run of the place than he did these days. Always on the road, traveling the province, fighting all sorts of beasts and creatures and dealing with all of Skyrim's problems with his new found title and eventually the reputation that he would make for himself. Yes, Kydin had certainly had come a long way from his simple days as a recruit of the Thieves' Guild.
"What became of the man after?" Morrigan tilted her head in curiosity.
The image of Mercer's body lying buried in an ancient Dwemer ruin miles beneath the surface lost and forgotten brought a grim smile to his face. "I returned the favour."
Looking up the path Kydin could just spot Alistair and Bane ahead of them by a small stretch. From where he and Morrigan were he could see the not so frantic woman now standing beside a slight man in leather armor with two weapons strapped to his back. It was a trap all right set in a dead end off the main road that was perfect for an ambush with only one way in and one way out.
The moment Kydin picked up that little detail the large tree that stood just before the entrance to the grove began to fall. And not by accident.
Kydin snatched Morrigan's wrist. "Hang on," he warned her. "WULD NAH KEST" And in a blink of an eye the two of them stood alongside Alistair with Morrigan looking a little more than disheveled and wide eyed from the sudden burst of speed he had called upon.
Alistair blinked in surprised as Kydin stood there shaking his head, while brandishing his weapons. "I told you so."
Brelyna watched the sun in the distance slowly begin to ascend above the horizon. And then, before she knew it, night would be upon them once more. The days, lately, had been going by faster than she thought possible. She wondered where they would plan to set up camp for the night this time. Last night they had been fortunate enough to find a small cave to take shelter in, but the damn cold hard stone had been a nightmare to sleep on. Brelyna had no idea how Kydin had seemed to manage to do it on his many travels without waking up with a crick in his neck. That man had the ability to sleep in the oddest of places.
"What ares you thinking about, lass?"
Brelyna turned to see Brynjolf pull his steed back to join her. She had been lagging behind the group for a while now. "Just thinking about where we are going to set up camp tonight. Too many creatures go bump in the night in these lands." The last thing they would want is to be stranded somewhere out in the open.
"I agree with you there. The closest settlement from here is Falkreath, but that is still a fair ride from where we are now. We'll probably see if we bunk in Helgen. If not I'm sure we can find a cave or something close by."
"Helgen?" the name caught Brelyna's complete attention as the name rung a bell in her memory. "Wasn't that the first settlement Alduin attacked?"
"Aye."
Brelyna didn't know much about the settlement. Only that Kydin had escaped from being put to death when Alduin attacked. "But isn't that—isn't that place deserted?"
The thief shrugged. "From what Kydin told me it was overrun with bandits the last time he passed through. But he cleared them out. Hopefully it remains that way."
"How long have you know Kydin exactly?" She found herself asking. She was curious as to how Kydin got himself wrapped up in the affairs of the guild.
"A few years now." Brynjolf answered. "He came to Skyrim to look for what work he could to earn enough coin to feed him. I'm not sure if he has told you this, but he has no family back in his homeland. When he found his way to Riften looking for work I recruited him."
Kydin had only told her on one occasion that he had no family or any real place to call home. He traveled around Skyrim a lot never staying in the same place for too long with all the affairs and responsibilities he dealt with. "Just like that?"
"The lad had talent." Brynjolf went on. "I sensed that in him, but never did I think he had the talent to be the Dragonborn." He laughed.
Brelyna knew very well how gifted an individual Kydin was. "Why did he join?"
"Well, I talked him into it," he confessed. "Plus if you're good enough you can make some pretty decent coin which was something he was in desperate need of. It's a hard enough life in Skyrim as it is."
Of that Brelyna was well aware. Her people weren't exactly treated the best in these lands, but better than she heard how the Khajiit and Argonians where treated in the city of Windhelm to the north of Riften. From what others had told her their people weren't even allowed into the walls of the city. "And now he's the head of the guild?"
"Aye. Kydin helped get the guild back on track, got Karliah's name cleared of the charges against her, and smoked out the rat that was responsible for it all."
"And who was that?"
"Our own previous guild master, Mercer." Brynjolf said grimly. "Tried to kill Kydin and nearly succeeded if it hadn't been for Karliah. In the end, together, they both got their revenge on him."
Kydin had never once showed any hint of an event happening like that to him even though she assumed that her friend had experienced plenty of close brushes with death with the life he led. "What happened to him?"
"He answered for his crimes-we all saw to that. His corpse now rots in an old Dwemer ruin."
Brelyna suppressed a shiver. "And you run the guild when Kydin's not around?"
"Yep, second in command, I am."
"So, what does the Thieves Guild actually do exactly? Besides steal of course."
Brynjolf grinned. "Well, hate to disappoint you, but that is pretty much how the whole operation operates. Afraid I can't go into too many details with you, lass. That is something for our dear Kydin to decide." He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "I hope finding out about his involvement with the guild hasn't changed the way you look at him, Brelyna. Kydin is still a good man despite his ties with us."
"I know." She said softly. "It's just something I need to get use to."
"He cares a lot for you, you know."
Brelyna was surprised at the sudden change of topic. "Well, we are friends after all."
"Naw, I'm talking about something more than that. He talks about you with a fondness in his voice I've never heard before. Kydin has seen a lot in his travels around the province. You seem to be one of the few good things he has stumbled across."
Brelyna felt her cheeks starting to warm. "I don't know how to respond to that." She said truthfully.
"Come on, now." The thief chuckled. "Is it so hard to love a thief?"
"He's more than just a thief. He's the Harbinger of the Companions, the Arch-Mage of Winterhold, and apparently now the head of the Thieves Guild. And on top of it all the Dragonborn of all people." Kydin was practically known everywhere in Skyrim with the number of titles to his name.
"The lad does have his fingers in quite a few pots around Skyrim, I'll give him that" the Nord chuckled. "But you do harbor feelings for him, no?"
"Maybe." She sighed. Brelyna certainly knew she was feeling a lot of things given the situation. "I don't know exactly what I feel for him. All I know right now is that I miss him and want him to come back home."
Brynjolf gave her a comforting smile. "I wouldn't worry too much about Kydin. I'm sure he's knocking his own fair share of skulls around wherever it is in Oblivion he may
be."
Kydin made quick work of a pair of assassins that made the poor mistake of trying to double-team him. He took a quick scan at the battle around him. Once the fight had broke into chaos their closely-knit group had drifted away from one another. On the opposite side of the enclosure Morrigan seemed to have a handle on things with her portion of the enemy group. It took a brief moment to spot Alistair. It seemed that the leader of the ambushers had picked him off from the rest of them. With the enemy's short stature and visibly pointy ears Kydin found it safe enough to guess that he was an elf. And it seemed he was quickly becoming a handful for Alistair. Unfortunately, Bane was not along side him the hound having his own share of problems to deal with.
Kydin started battling his way towards Alistair. It hadn't taken very long to figure out that the young man was the target of these people. For what reason exactly he didn't know, but he as sure as hell wasn't going to let them succeed.
The elf started picking up the speed of his strikes distracting Alistair long enough with those sharp blades for him to kick out the legs of the warrior. Alistair fell onto his back with a thud raising his shield to block the blow that he knew well enough to expect from the elf. But Kydin wasn't going to give him the chance to even try and it wasn't going to take him a lot of effort to do so.
"ZUN HAAL," he successfully disarmed the assassin. Both of the elf's blades flew forcefully out of his hands giving him enough pause for Kydin to seize the opportunity to charge him and give him a good bash on the side of the head with his shield. The elf crumbled to the ground in a heap.
"You alright?" Kydin panted as he held a hand out to Alistair.
"I'll live." He said getting up on his feet again. "So, that was another one of your Shouts I'm guessing?"
"Aye." Kydin looked over to see Morrigan and Bane making their way over to join them. The group of assassins had been successfully defeated. "Now," looking at the unconscious form of the elf beside them, "what should we do about this guy?"
At camp…
"I still can't believe this man is an elf, he's so small," Kydin commented as he peered down at the small curled form of the assassin that they had left bound next to the campfire. After the morning's fight with the group of assassins they had continued on with their journey with the elf hogtied to nap in the back of the cart along with all the dragon scraps. So far the elf had shown no signs of stirring which didn't surprise Kydin with the blow he had delivered to the man with his dragon bone shield. But one thing was for certain-when the man did wake up he would be greeted with one hell of a throbbing headache.
"You say that as though you have never seen an elf before." Morrigan commented dryly.
"I have seen plenty of elves in my travels; know a few of them, too. But none of them were in small of stature as this one." In fact it appeared that the elf before him was even smaller than the smallest race of elves back home, the Bosmer, and they weren't that petite to begin with.
"You have elves in your world?" Wynne asked.
"Aye, we have a number of them; about three different races of them."
"What's it like in your world?" Leliana asked curiously. "Is it much different than ours?"
Kydin was starting to wonder if they were ever going to ask about his world. When he had first told them of his suspicions of arriving here through a magical portal he knew that most of them would think that he was crazy; mostly Morrigan. Though they did indulge him by letting him tell the tale of the Dragon Wars there was little interrogation about himself or where he came from. Kydin had suspected that the majority of them where still coming to a decision about his state of mind, not that he blamed them, of course. But after the events of yesterday and with all the Guardian of the temple had to say and his feat with the High Dragon it seemed to open up a flood of questions . Now Kydin was starting to hear genuine curiosity from them. "From what I've seen so far your world is not that much different than mine. It's got cities, its people, and its own set of problems. Only thing I can see that's really different in this land is the weather."
"The weather?"
"Aye, in Skyrim it's always fucking cold. Because its so far up north warmer seasons like summer only last a few short weeks before everything gets covered in snow again."
"So, basically it's a frozen wasteland." Morrigan quipped.
Kydin smirked. "Only the most northern parts, you have to travel pretty far south to feel any real warmth. And by that point you might as well cross over into Cyrodiil, the heart of the Imperial Empire."
"Now I'm curious, Kydin." Wynne began. "The other day back at the Gauntlet the Guardian mentioned you were the Arch-Mage of Winterhold. Just what does this title hold to you?"
Kydin would have thought the Head of the Thieves Guild title would have caused her more concern. "Winterhold is the name of the town that is home to the College of mages in Skyrim hence the full name College of Winterhold. It is a school for the arcane arts."
"A school?" Wynne repeated with wonder. "For mages?"
"Aye," Kydin continued, curious as to why Wynne seemed so surprised with such a thing. "Mages travel from all across the province to train or to study there."
Morrigan seemed equally as interested. "And is this school run by your world's religious order?"
Kydin wasn't sure what she was referring to. "I'm not sure what it is you mean."
"Here in our world we house our mages in towers and train them at young ages on how to use and control their gifts." Wynne explained. "The Chantry is in charge of keeping order and for looking for any signs of corruption should a mage be tempted by demons."
"House?" Morrigan huffed. "They are more like prisons. And your Chantry and its Templars are more like wardens watching over their charges with the way they run things."
Kydin shook his head. "I'm sorry, demons, Templars? I'm not following."
Again Wynne continued to teach him. "When a young boy or girl realizes their gift of magic they then become potential preys for demons that occupy the world of the Fade, the place that mages go when they dream. Demons try to tempt mages in order to take control over them and gain access into our world. When their talent is known they are taken to the Circle of Magi for their protection and the protection of others as well.
Templars are men and women who are trained to watch and protect mages in the Circle or to hunt down apostates, those who do not wish to be part of the Circle. The Templars are there to watch over those in the Circle to look for any signs of corruption and should a mage fall prey of a demon's temptation it is their duty to slay the creature that the mage has become. A demon's words is nothing but lies and empty promises and a mage's most time of vulnerability is when they dream. Templars are given this responsibility because they have the ability to dispel and resist magic as they are trained to do so."
Kydin was nearly at a loss at how to reply with this new information. "Your Chantry takes children away from their families to live in a tower?" He said mostly to himself then to Wynne. "When they learn to control their magic they can leave, can they not?"
"As if the Chantry would be so generous," Morrigan answered. "Once you're in the tower they make sure that you stay there to the end of your miserable days. The Circles are nothing more than prisons. And the mages there let themselves be corralled around like cattle making them believe that they haven't a thought for themselves. Pathetic."
"And that is your opinion, Morrigan," Wynne snapped back in a tone that was quite opposite to the gentle grandmotherly tone Kydin was use to hearing. "Believe what you will, but the Chantry and the Circle are meant to help mages."
"Oh, help you say?" Morrigan replied with her usual note of mockery. "Is that what the templars were doing when they sent for the Right of Annulment to butcher your precious Circle?"
"Enough!" Wynne hissed. An act that was not the norm for her if the wide-eyed looks from Leliana and Alistair had anything to say. Wynne turned to Kydin with a more sober expression. "Not all mages see eye-to-eye on the purpose of the Circle."
You would have to be beyond blind to not see the stiff tension that had suddenly formed between the witch and the elder mage. Perhaps later he could ask Alistair if he had any idea as to what it was. Right now it was up to him to make the heavy air that had settled around them a little lighter for them to breath. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't the two of you apostates?"
"I grew up in the Wilds," Morrigan said simply. "My mother kept me from the world and templars beyond the wood and I was able to learn and use magic as I saw fit. Wynne is from the Circle," she ended with distaste.
Wynne gave a tired sigh. "Yes, I am from the Circle and I was given permission to leave to assist Alistair in his quest against the Blight when he came to the tower seeking help from the mages."
Kydin simply nodded in response. Now he was definitely going to be asking Alistair later for more details about Wynne and her connection with the Circle.
"Still," Kydin breathed out, "I can't help but think that magic seems more like a curse than a gift here in these lands. I mean I know magic has its good points and its bad points, but to go to such extents is… beyond my understanding." To have to go to the point where mages had to be locked up for their gifts was baffling to him. But ,then again, so were all these other factors of demons, templars and this Fade that Wynne had mentioned.
"Do you not deal with demons in your world?" Wynne asked.
"Oh, we have our own kind of demons," actually daedra to be exact, "but mages are never in danger of falling prey to such things in our sleep." Well, except Valahieme the daedric price of nightmares and dreams. Back in Skyrim she had the small town of Dawnstar deprived of sleep from the nightmares that plagued and haunted them whenever they closed their eyes before he came along. A small group of her worshipers had erected a shine to the prince in her name and summoned the power of the legendary Skull of Corruption, an artifact of great power, that allowed the powers of Valahieme to fall upon the village.
Morrigan looked at him with wide eyes. "No?"
"Aye, the only true threat to mages is when one falls to the dark arts of Necromancy."
"So, it's like Blood magic?" Wynne said thoughtfully.
"Depends on what this Blood magic is that you speak of."
"Blood magic is when a mage uses blood to fuel a spell, usually one to summon demons and their power to strengthen themselves."
"Then no," Kydin replied. "Necromancy involves the enslavement and control of involuntary souls and their bodies. Reanimating corpses, summoning the undead; those kind of acts. That is the only practice that we disapprove of at the college; but other than that you may practice magic as you please with a few restrictions, of course. Can't tell you how many times I've had to clean up the disastrous workings of a careless apprentice."
Morrigan sat next to him. "And there are no authorities constantly watching your every move?"
"We have people who check up on us from time to time, the Jarl of the Hold, making sure that everything is in order, but that is understandable. Everyone will always have their suspicions of magic. Other than that mages are independent and we look after our own at the college. Though, our senior mages will keep watch over the apprentices until they feel that they have mastered magic well enough to be independent of themselves."
"What about those who fall prey to corruption?" Wynne asked.
"Then we hunt them down. Only those that seek power will fall to darkness; others, who only seek to learn, have the freedom and resources at the College to do so. Allowing them that freedom gives them a less likely chance to fall prey to the dark arts."
"And you can just come and go from this school as you please?" Morrigan asked disbelievingly.
"Once you become a member of the college you are given your own living quarters and may leave on your own accord. Just as long as you don't go breaking any of the rules you will always be welcomed back."
"And just what kind of rules do you have in place?"
"Well, number one, don't go around killing college members. Or anybody, in fact. We kind of frown upon that kind of thing." He answered with a smirk.
Morrigan looked accusingly at the elder mage. "His world's ways of things seems a lot more reasonable than your Chantry's." She looked back at him. "And just how did someone like yourself rise to the ranks of Arch-Mage? You seem more warrior than mage to me."
"Eh, is that a challenge I'm hearing?" Kydin smirked.
"Possibly."
"Maybe some time other then."
"Another possibility. So, I am to continue expecting an answer to my question?"
"How I became Arch-Mage? Well, you know, I saved the college from certain destruction. The usual. Oh, another rule-don't try to destroy the College." He snickered. "You should have seen what happened to the last guy who tried that."
"And just what kind of calamity would that be?" she asked with keen interest.
"Now that's a whole other story," Kydin replied softly as he looked up at the sky and at the stars shining down on them. Speaking of the College made him think of Brelyna and the others. He wondered how long it would be before anyone started to wonder where he had gotten to. Typically those of his friends in the College, the guild or the Companions knew that due to his duties as Dragonborn and his ultimate quest to save the world from Alduin that he had the habit of being gone for weeks or at times months before he made another appearance. But they also knew that he took it upon himself whenever he was in one of Skyrim's major cities or a small village to seek out a courier that would deliver letters on his behalf to update those that were his second in command in the factions for which he was responsible. For the College in Winterhold he sent words of reassurance to Tolfdir who at times worried over him like a mother hen and would share with him any interesting or unique herbs and ingredients that he had come across in his travels that could benefit the College. For Brynjolf he sent stories that he had heard in taverns across the province be it interesting or down right unbelievable. Then of course his and Brynjolf personal favourite tales of men who had drunk themselves into a stupor that lead to their hilarious failed attempts at convincing serving girls to join them in bed. His fellow thief always got a good laugh out of those and sometimes, as Devlin once told him, the Nord would laugh so hard that he would fall right out of his chair when he read out loud his writings to the other members. Finally, for Vilkas, the reliable Nord warrior that he left in charge of the Companions, he sent accounts of his own tales of whatever man or beast he had come across and put to the blade. Such tales that would no doubt earn him the proposition of at least a dozen of their members of requests to join him on his next adventure. Thinking of all this caused him to sigh heavily at knowing just how far away home was from where he was right now. For all he knew he could be stranded in this world for months, even years, after he tracked down Alduin and killed him.
"Should we not be more concerned that the Guardian of the temple also labeled this man a thief?" Sten rumbled.
"Should I not be concerned that he called you a murderer?" Kydin countered. "We have all done things that we are not terribly proud of in the past. Yes, I do head a guild for thieves when I don't have more world saving concerns to deal with. Though we do have a code of honor-which would not mean much to you," he chuckled lightly. "But I was young when I joined and desperate from coin and just hairs away from begging on the streets. I won't lie. I saw an opportunity and I took it. At the time I was just a lad that was trying to survive in the world. If that is a story you wish to hear, Sten, all you need to do is say so."
Sten took such a long pause in his reply that Kydin wondered if the man was ever going to reply when finally he said, "I would be interested in hearing such a tale."
"Now hold on," Morrigan interrupted. "I believe that I was the one that asked first about the calamity that lead him to being an Arch-Mage. Or any mage really."
"I don't think you properly asked, Morrigan," Alistair teased. "Besides I want to know what this Companion business is about."
"I can't decide which one I want to hear more," Leliana pouted on the sidelines.
Kydin laughed. "Oh, so now I am to tell you my whole life's story, am I?"
"Well, you do claim to be from another realm all together," Alistair pointed out. "Surely you had to expect this would happen sooner or later."
"Aye, hard to argue with you there, Alistair," Kydin smiled as he rummaged around in his pack and pulled out a thin folded sheet of parchment and unfolded it before them. "Then let us start this tale from the beginning, shall we," he said pressing the paper out onto the grass to allow his fingers to prevent the folds of the map from folding in on itself. "This is the province of Skyrim," he began, "And this story begins here," he pointed down at the bottom right hand corner of the map, "in the city of Riften. I had left my home country Cyrodill in the south to go North to start a new life for myself. I was twenty-three at the time and had been in Skyrim for only a few months when I arrived in the city. It was here that I was recruited into the Thieves Guild…" As Kydin began the story of the series of events that made him the man he was today, to be given the duties of the Dragonborn, and the friends, allies and enemies that he would make along the way he couldn't help but think of those that he left unintentionally behind in Skyrim. And he couldn't help but wonder what some of his friends might be doing at this very moment.
