Chapter 9
Threads of Destiny
The darkness was heavy around the two figures as they met on the balcony, emerging from the shadows as if it comprised their very flesh.
"Well?" the first asked, eyes scanning their surroundings carefully.
"The boy and the priest are the only viable targets I can see," the second commented.
"Good, then prepare yourself."
"We should wait," the second protested. "There might be more."
"Bah! It's not like the old hag will know. Besides, the elf'll make new friends eventually. It's not like we can stick around and kill them all through the years."
"True enough… You know, it's almost a shame," the second lamented. "I kind of liked this place."
"Don't lose focus," the first admonished. "Each moment we stay makes it that much more likely we'll be discovered. Or perhaps our infiltrator going soft?"
"I'll do my duty. Just keep your head down fool. They'll suspect you first," came the scathing retort.
The first figure made a face in the darkness that went unseen.
"I'm to be sent out scouting in the morning. Don't muck anything up while I'm gone."
With that, the speaker vanished into the inky gloom.
The second lingered as it sighed before it too disappeared.
The morning's first light was barely a thought in the sky as Lyn ghosted through the halls and out of the temple. Her thoughts were strangely quiet, and she passed through the tunnel leading to the world beyond their valley before she ever realized she had entered. Krahsilsaan lifted his scaled head from where he lay coiled, blinking sleepily.
He yawned, flashing a set of fearsome fangs.
"It's far too early for such ventures," he complained.
"Late morning or high noon, it would still be too early for you," she replied, rolling her eyes.
"Not if it were something I enjoyed," he drawled, burrowing himself deeper in the snow and closing his eyes.
"Come on, Your Great Eminence, Markarth awaits," Lyn smirked mischievously. "We must gather you more little mortals to shower you with praise."
"Bah, they don't stay with me," he scoffed.
"Because you sit out here in the bitter cold and snow. Maybe if you remained in the valley where they lived, they would."
"Silly little fools, the lot of them," he snorted. "I cannot be faulted if they have such weak constitutions. Besides, above all, I enjoy it here among the falling snow. Doesn't the cold just make you feel so blissfully alive?"
Lyn settled one hand on her hip and looked askance at him.
"Time flows ever onward, but a dragon remains constant," she smirked, shaking her head. "Come," she beckoned softly, "let's be off."
Krahsilsaan opened one eye and made a great show of slowly rising and meticulously stretching each limb and both of his wings. When he was done, he flexed his claws and shook his shoulders. As a final measure to ensure that his displeasure was known, he grumbled a lovely idea aloud as he dipped his head low enough for Lyn to grab hold of one of his horns and hoist herself up.
"Perhaps our next stop can be the Red Mountain so that I might throw you in the lava."
"You'd miss me."
"Not from that distance," he smirked wickedly.
Matthias yawned feebly as he staggered from his room. Habit more than anything took him from the covers of his bed out into the halls before he realized he didn't have to make breakfast for anyone. He paused, frowning, wondering what to do with himself.
He turned to study the equipment Lyn had brought him. Apparently they'd been some old set of alchemy equipment scavenged from the depths of the ruins. A smile tugged at him. Old was the appropriate word. It was strange to see the mortar and pestle, retort, alembic, and calcinator all in separate pieces, rather than attached to the sturdy table he was used to. He had to credit the craftsmen of yore, though. The equipment might be dusty and look ancient, but there wasn't a speck of rust on them, and they still worked remarkably well. Alright, so the invisibility potion hadn't quite gone as planned, but that was because he'd tried to improve the taste with apple juice. Not his best idea, admittedly. Actually, great idea. It was lousy, fickle alchemy was the real problem.
He yawned again and perused the small wooden box filled with squat little bottles, surveying them proudly. There were now plenty of curatives for poisons of all kinds that the scouting parties could take with them. He grinned guiltily, knowing he shouldn't have stayed up half the night on the task, but it was well worth it to ensure they had them before they were to set out this morning. In truth, he wanted to make more, just in case the people staying in the compound needed any. Because really, giant spiders launching themselves out of the woods and attacking wasn't his own secret nightmare. No, not at all. Nope. Unfortunately, he needed more ingredients for the task that he simply didn't have.
He settled himself happily beneath the skylight in his room and began the process of crafting a handful of new potions, some for healing, others to restore the strength of weary bodies after a grueling day. Surprisingly, he already had a set of orders from Vokun for potions to be delivered to a handful of people within the complex. Fortunately Sam had offered to help him locate everyone, despite the fact that the Disciple should be studying. If nothing else, the young man had a remarkable knack for remembering everyone's name, where they were housed, and where they would be working that day. The mere thought of it made Matthias's head hurt, but Sam said the same about his memory for alchemy.
Dust sprinkled down from the skylight, forcing him to scoot himself over to keep the debris out of his current mixture. He poured his completed product into a bottle, and reached for his pile of ingredients to bring them closer only to find them gone. A disappointed groan escaped him as he realized there were no more potions to make. Alright, so maybe it had been a good idea for Lyn to use magic to speed the alchemy garden's growth. Because now he was out of almost every ingredients, and that was just depressing. He sighed, dusting himself off as he stood, stretching.
The sweet scent of drying flowers tickled his nose as he looked around his room proudly. A handful of bundles of blue mountain flowers were strung about the room, hanging upside down by twine secured to sticks he'd stabbed into minute cracks in the wall. It wasn't a proper drying rack by any means, but he felt remarkably proud of his own resourcefulness. Now if only he could find other plants to go with them growing in the wilds...
He shook himself from his musings and picked up the almost forgotten box of potions. The wood was rough in his hands as he lifted it, bottles clinking softly as he made his way down the hall into the passage with the grand pillars and looming, leering carvings. He set the burden down before knocking softly on Vokun and Lyn's door. A breath passed before the portal swung silently open and Vokun greeted him with a smile.
"Good morning," the man whispered, as if unwilling to break the early quiet.
"Morning," he greeted back, softly.
"Are those all the potions for the scouting parties?" Vokun breathed in wonder.
Matthias nodded vigorously, beaming with pride.
"That's incredible! I can't believe you finished so many in such a short time! Wait a moment, have you slept?"
"Of course I have," he assured, then leaned around the man to look into the room. "Is Lyn still-"
"Already gone, I'm afraid," Vokun said apologetically. "She left with Krah- er, the dragon, before dawn this morning."
"Ha! So I'm not the only one that has trouble pronouncing his name!" Matthias triumphed.
"Actually, in the old days, it was forbidden for any but the Dragon Priests to use a dragon's name, whether or not you speak it with the Voice," he supplied, then seeing the look of confusion on the boy's face, he continued. "Dragon's names are a combination of three words of power in their tongue. To speak their names is, essentially, a challenge to them. Needless to say, it was more than frowned upon, thus any mortal who dared utter a dragon's name or even the word dragon in their language would have their tongue… removed," he winced. "That is why Akatosh is called 'Great Dragon' or 'the Great Dragon' and Alduin is the 'Dread Dragon' when we speak of them."
"Al...right..." Matthias replied slowly.
Vokun's mouth scrunched into a frown.
"Sorry," he chuckled. "Got a bit carried away. At any rate, why don't you come with me and hand out the potions? It would be nice for them to see you."
"Me?" he balked. "Oh, um, no, I think I need to… to do..."
"Come on," Vokun encouraged softly, ushering him along.
Matthias followed obediently with a grimace.
Before long, they emerged from the halls and quiet temple into welcoming sunlight beyond. A group of ten people stood outside the doors, chatting. They quieted as Vokun approached. Matthias focused on his feet rather than the words as the man spoke at length with all assembled. After a time, Vokun took pity on him and removed the box of potions from his grasp, distributing one to each of them. Matthias looked up, hoping it was safe now.
To his surprise, he met the gaze of the dark-haired man from the night before. The piercing black eyes blinked once, slowly, before he turned to a particularly short man beside him. They whispered together for a moment before the short man nodded his bald head in greeting to Matthias, with a smirk on his face. Multiple earrings wove their way up the man's ears, flashing in the sunlight. Matthias offered a hesitant wave and looked away. With a final word, Vokun dismissed them, and the scouts made their way quickly to the woods, splitting into groups of twos and threes. Matthias watched Vokun wave in farewell as he joined one of them before they plunged into the trees. With a roll of his shoulders, Matthias sighed and walked back for the rest of his potions.
Matthias's stomach growled loudly as Sam lead the way toward the last delivery.
"Guess it's time for second breakfast," Sam laughed.
"I don't think Martha would like that idea much," he replied.
"Probably not," Sam admitted.
They made their way past the farmland to a small, circular building. Cracked stones tarnished it's smooth appearance, but it seemed stable still. They ducked through the doorway and waited as their eyes adjusted to the dim interior.
"Can I help you?" drawled a flat voice.
Matthias turned to see the short man from earlier leaning back in a chair as he whittled a piece of wood with a knife. Up close, he seemed to have even more earrings, if that was possible.
"We're here to deliver a potion to a man named Zedrin," Sam said politely.
"Well you've found the man, but I didn't order no potion," Zedrin replied, lifting his startling golden eyes to the pair.
"Yes, I'm aware," Matthias nodded boldly. "And I'd like to know precisely why you felt you needed a poison."
"I don't see that it's any of your business, boy-o," the man replied smoothly, eyes narrowing as he twisted the knife in his hand.
"I'm the alchemist," Matthias replied. "That makes it my business."
"Well ain't you precious," he grinned.
Matthias met the man's unsettling eyes with a bravery that surprised him. But he had a duty as an alchemist. His mother had drilled that into his head from the first day he'd picked up a mortar and pestle.
"Alright then, little alchemist," Zedrin smirked. "If you must know, there's a den of skeevers in a cave over that-a way," he stabbed in the direction with his knife. "Wouldn't want them to eat up all the food that the little elf witch grew, would we?"
Matthias couldn't determine if he'd just insulted Lyn or not. He glanced quickly to Sam as Zedrin tipped back and forth in his chair with a smug smirk on his face. Sam looked back at him and eventually offered a shrug and a small nod.
Matthias stepped toward Zedrin carefully, trying to draw the bottle from his pocket without taking his eyes from the man. He almost succeeded, but the end caught and jerked sharply, twisting from his grip as it went spinning toward the floor.
The man's hand shot forward and caught it deftly.
"Careful now," he cautioned. "We wouldn't want to waste that."
Matthias blinked stupidly.
"Right," he agreed hesitantly. "We'll be going then..."
"You do that," Zedrin smiled, returning to carving the piece of wood.
They all but ran from the building. Only when they were on the other side of the fields did they dare to speak.
"What a strange person!" Sam commented in a high voice he thought was hilarious.
"You said it!" Matthias agreed.
"Well he's not ruining my day," Sam announced. "Let's grab a snack. Then we can do… er, what was it you said earlier?"
"I want to search the forest for any useful cuttings or ingredients I can scavenge. You don't have to come. I know you should be studying for your Ascension to Disciple."
"Bah," Sam dismissed. "Studying's boring. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I just let you wander spider infested woods by yourself?"
"Don't say infested," Matthias grimaced, paling. "Let's... find Claudia. She said she'd come with, and her group should be finished by now. Then we'll set out."
"For the spider filled woods," Sam amended cheerfully, slapping him on the back.
"We're fighting."
Claudia ducked under a branch and hopped up onto a rock for a better vantage point.
"One of those?" she asked, pointing.
Matthias followed her gesture.
"Nope," he laughed.
"Oh come on!" she protested. "I really thought I had it that time!"
"What about that one?" Sam asked.
Matthias turned.
"Yes, that's it," he nodded.
"Ha!" Sam triumphed, then turned to Claudia. "I believe that's three."
"I'm going to put spiders in your socks," she grumbled.
"Too cruel," Matthias smirked.
"Yeah, the spiders wouldn't deserve it," she grinned.
"Hey, how about this one?" Sam called heedlessly, reaching for a bush.
"Poisonous," the two answered in unison.
Sam yelled and snatched back his hand.
Matthias and Claudia exchanged a look, then burst into laughter.
They continued on, climbing a hill laden with blue mountain flowers. Their sweet fragrance hung heavy in the cool afternoon as they strode through them.
"What's that?" Claudia frowned, pointing toward the rotting remains of a jagged stump.
Matthias stared hard, searching. He frowned, seeing nothing until a mat, reddish blotch caught his eye. He moved closer and studied it.
"Blisterwort!" he exclaimed as the cap of the mushroom became clear to him. "Great eye!"
"I take it that's good?" Claudia asked, pleased.
"It's great!" he said excitedly, kneeling. "I can't believe we found one. They usually only grow in dark places like caves."
"What are they for?" Sam muttered, staring over Matthias's shoulder.
"They make great healing potions," he replied, lifting the basket he carried. He withdrew a pair of tongs and carefully settled them around the mushroom before gently wheedling it out of the loose soil.
"If it's good for you, then why are you using tongs?" Sam asked cynically.
"Well, with mushrooms, it's just prudent not to touch… any of them," he replied.
"Why?" Sam pressed.
"Because some of them are hard to tell apart, and touching the wrong one could be very unpleasant."
"But you're sure that's a good one."
"Yes."
"See, that's where I'm confused."
"I think what he's trying to say is that it's just a good practice he developed and it became habit," Claudia surmised.
"Yes! Exactly!" Matthias nodded. "Thank you."
"No problem," she smiled, then turned to Sam. "And by the way, four," she smirked.
Sam made an unflattering noise and turned away, continuing to search the area.
Matthias meanwhile had already wrapped the Blisterwort in a damp cloth and settled it in the basket and was now withdrawing a mason's trowel. He used it as a makeshift shovel to gathered some of the soil from around where the mushroom was and scooped it into a small, drawstring bag before tying it securely and tucking both tool and bag away.
"Why are you doing that?" Claudia asked, leaning forward. Her hair fell in ringlets around her shoulder. In the sunlight they looked like liquid gold.
He blinked for a moment before he shook himself quickly and stammered for a reply.
"Um, because sometimes more mushrooms will grow from it."
"That's amazing," she commented.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Hopefully we get lots of them to grow."
"I'm sure you will," she smiled, standing.
He blinked, wondering if he'd actually heard the complement.
"Hey! I found one of those too!" Sam yelled, waving one arm while pointing with the other.
"Sam," Matthias sighed. "That's Imp stool, which is, once again-"
"Poisonous," all three said in unison, then devolved into a fit of laughter.
"Hey, I have a talent!" Sam protested.
"Hm, you're not wrong," Matthias mused.
"So really, my score should be ten," he grinned, sticking out his tongue at Claudia.
"We're looking for curatives, you troll-brain. Poisonous things are a subtraction of points," she retorted.
"Huh? Can't hear you," he said overly loud as he placed a hand to his ear.
He wandered away, continuing the search.
Claudia paused and pointed near a crop of trees nestled close together with underbrush choking their trunks.
"That's thistle, right?"
"Yes!" Matthias nodded happily, turning his steps toward it.
Sam traipsed slowly to the overgrown area and stuck his head near the tall brush.
"I bet there's something really good in here," he called. "But it's probably poisonous..." he added with a grimace.
"Probably," Matthias agreed, setting down his basket.
A low hiss seethed through the still trees. They froze instantly, then searched around themselves slowly.
"Sam," Matthias whispered. "Get away from there! Back away slowly."
Sam obeyed as a rhythmic, agitated clack filled the air.
"Why won't it stop?" he demanded sharply.
Matthias flinched at the mistake.
Sticks cracked and leaves rustled, forcing Sam to back away faster. Then, in one horribly fluid movement, a massive spider burst from the bushes. It stood at a frightening height, almost to their chests as it reared up, lifting it's front legs threateningly. It rushed at Sam who stumbled behind a tree, then it turned it's four lurid black eyes toward Matthias.
He screamed as the great monster scurried toward him. Panicked, he scrambled backwards, gasping frantically before his back slammed into the trunk of a tree. His knees buckled as he fell, stars filling his vision. But horrid thing kept coming, it's drooling mouth working as its black eyes fixed on him.
Matthias shook visibly, but staring into those gruesome eyes, he found he couldn't move. The leering mandibles snapped together twice as it gathered itself to lunge.
"Get away from him!" Claudia yelled, charging in wielding a branch like a staff. "You disgusting, evil, monstrosity!" she accused, punctuating each word with alternating stabs and swirling bashes of her makeshift weapon. It flinched as the stick stabbed into one of its eyes.
The spider danced backward, shaking itself as it lashed out with a great, hairy leg and jabbed at Claudia. She dodged, spinning both body and weapon as she soared back in, using her momentum to deliver a wicked blow. The hard branch connected with the beast's outstretched leg with crack as it broke bone.
The spider reeled, scurrying backwards, mandibles churning furiously. Its front leg dragged uselessly, but it seemed unconcerned.
"Eat this, ugly!" Sam yelled, charging in with a branch held high above his head.
"Sam, no!" Claudia managed before the beast's leg snapped out and slammed into his chest, throwing him backwards to the ground. She grimaced and hurried to distract the beast. Too late, she realized her mistake as it lunged forward and crashed into her with its body. She fell awkwardly, and scrambled to a better position before the beast was upon her with gnashing mandibles clashing for her face. She jammed her stick against them as they oozed. The beast pressed, coming closer and closer to her grimacing face as it pressed its advantage. She fought desperately, the muscles in her arms standing out vividly as she heaved against the brute.
The spider screamed suddenly and scrambled backwards, reeling. It swayed, feet scurrying rapidly before it collapsed in a jumbled heap.
"What..." Claudia managed, staggering to her feet.
A black arrow protruded from the back of the beasts skull, buried to the fletching.
Her eyes trailed up to the crest of a distant hill. In the shadows of a gnarled tree stood the dark-haired man from last night's dinner, another arrow set to the string of his bow.
Claudia stepped back reflexively, lifting her stick. But the man simply turned away, and vanished into the trees like mist.
"Who was that?" Sam demanded, rubbing his chest.
Claudia shrugged hopelessly and spun away toward Matthias. His skin was sallow and he stared, transfixed at the spider's corpse.
"Matthias," she urged softly. "It's dead. Very dead. It's not getting back up. Ever again."
He shook his head as if he didn't believe her.
Sam caught on and dashed quickly to the spider.
"Dead, dead. See?" he called, lifting a foot and repeatedly kicking the beast's abdomen, secretly praying that it was indeed dead twice over.
Matthias blinked once, slowly.
"I'm sorry," he muttered in shame, still staring at the spider.
"Hey don't worry about it," she soothed. "You should see me around bats."
"Bats?"
"Evil, creepy, screechy little monsters that get stuck in your hair and I wish I had an arrow for each one of them," she replied tersely. "And if we see one, I don't promise not to run screaming. Like a little girl," she grimaced.
Matthias had to smile at that.
"Really?" he asked.
"That's why you'll never see me in a cave. Ever," she replied, frowning sourly at the thought.
"I'm afraid of studying," Sam announced cheerfully, drawing up behind her.
"You know," Matthias began shakily. "You really ought to study for your-"
"Yeah, yeah," Sam dismissed, then grinned. "Thank you, Mother."
"Spoken like a true troll-brain," Claudia sighed.
Matthias laughed and shook his head. As one, she and Sam reached out their hands to him, and together they helped him to his feet.
"I think that's enough adventuring for the day," Sam complained. "Let's head back.
"No, not yet," Claudia refuted.
"But-"
"We're going to go and get that plant," she insisted. "Come on, Matthias."
She took his hand gently and led him carefully past the spider. He noted that she went out of her way to place herself between him and the beast, for which he was secretly grateful. Still, as they progressed, he had to glance back over his shoulder to make sure the thing didn't move, no matter how unpleasant it was to stare at it's disgusting, crumpled form.
He felt Claudia jostle his arm gently and pulled his gaze from the beast.
His basket waited for him at his feet beside the vibrant green thistle. He knelt slowly, and pulled a small knife from his assortment of tools. After a moments study, he chose a piece of the plant and cut it, wrapping it in a damp cloth before tucking it away. He scavenged a few more usable tidbits that he would be able to dry and picked up his basket, nodding.
"Now we'll go home," Claudia said.
"Good, I'm hungry," Sam announced.
She laughed, shaking her head.
"After that, I don't think I'll be able to sleep for days! How can you already be thinking of food?"
"What?" he shrugged. "I bet Matthias agrees with me!"
Sam offered an encouraging thump on his back.
"Sure," Matthias replied, shaking his head in wonder.
"You know," Claudia giggled, turning to Sam. "You were right. There was something in those bushes, and it was poisonous."
His face scrunched.
"Yeah, I'm so glad," he grimaced. "I'll just dance a jig."
"I would actually pay to see that..." she mused.
"Good, I'll charge admission."
"Let's go home," Matthias said. "Before Sam's dancing attracts anything else."
"Actually, I think I'd be an effective repellant," Claudia quipped.
"Show's what you know! The beasties would come from far and wide to see my amazing talents!"
Matthias laughed heartily, patting his shoulder as he passed. Claudia's arm gently wound through his as they passed by the spider once more. He turned to her to try and thank her softly. She offered a small, compassionate smile that left him without words.
Markarth swam with the scent of smelting metal and misting waterfalls as the ancient city shone in the late morning sun. Lyn stood nestled beneath an overhang of rock that lead to doors to what looked like a cave. In essence, it was, the meager dwelling space housing the city's poorest inhabitants.
"Thank you," began a man, hesitantly, standing in front of the entrance. Another man and a woman stood behind him, fidgeting and glancing at one another. "I just… I don't think we can go. They won't let us leave here. I'm sorry."
Lyn's brows scrunched in a fierce frown.
"You point me at the ones who stop you, and they shall do so no more," she promised, tucking her hair behind her ear as a breeze tugged at the delicate strands.
Hope flared in their eyes for a moment before it was whisked away by the wind.
"We can't," the woman whispered, looking frantically over her shoulder. "Please, it's not safe for you here! You have to go!"
Lyn made to reply only to halt as she noticed that the woman stared with horror-filled eyes, not at her, but beyond her.
"Go back inside," she told them firmly.
Lyn watched them scurry back into the safety of their dwelling before she turned, a look of icy hatred etched upon her face. The trio of guardsmen behind her actually stepped back for a moment. Their hesitation did not last long, however, and they advanced purposefully, hands resting on the hilts of their swords as they moved to surround her.
Lyn shifted position so that her back was against the closed doors as she watched them carefully, letting them speak first.
"Heard you've been traipsing about our city," one began.
"Talking nonsense about dragon cults and how great Alduin is," another sneered.
"Do you have any idea how many people died at Helgen?" said the third, slowly pulling a bow from the quiver on his back.
She weighed her options carefully. Starting a fight with a city's guards usually ended about as well as climbing a tree in a lightning storm.
"What? All out of lies to save you?" one continued.
"Where is your god now, wretched elf?"
Lyn took a deep breath and calmed herself. Her actions now reflected on the Dragon Religion as a whole. She was an ambassador, and had to behave with the proper discretion. Even if she did want to give these annoying men something to complain about.
When she spoke, it was calm and contained.
"This is not the way for the city guard to conduct themselves. We must-"
"Shut your damned mouth."
"My cousin was killed by that so-called god of yours!"
"Really?" she lifted one eyebrow, thoroughly irritated. "And what does your god do for you?" she smirked, unable to resist the question.
"There's only one place for heretics," said the archer, placing an arrow to his string.
"Indeed," she agreed grimly.
Magic was at her fingertips as surely as breath was in her lungs as they drew their blades. With two quick jabs, she send streaming shards of frost at the archer and one of the sword wielders. The magic lodged in their chests, knocking them to the ground screaming. A jarring sound rose up to drown out everything else. Lyn turned to see the final man with a horn to his lips. Lyn winced as he loosed another note, sending it echoing off the cavernous rock behind her. An arrow screamed past her ear, making her duck reflexively.
"Troublesome," she grimaced, sending yet more icy spears for the archer and horn blower, felling them before they could counter.
She bounded away over the bodies, making for the city's grand gates. In an instant, more guards turned the corner and pounded down the path. She spun away, only to find more men stationed behind her. A part of her mind noted that if she hadn't been so annoyed, she'd be impressed.
She smiled grimly, letting all semblance of diplomacy bleed from her thoughts. The only thing she had to offer these fools was an early arrival to their graves. Without pause, she launched a scathing tirade of magic in both directions that slammed into the men, sending them flying before they crashed into stone walls and buildings. The crack of bones resounded amid the brief cries.
Sharp agony exploded in her back, wrenching a scream from her. She looked down quickly and instantly wished she hadn't. From below her breast protruded a steel arrowhead, it's tip covered in blood and clinging flesh. She pushed the image and revulsion away, whirling unsteadily. A hazy figure stood some distance down the path, poised to strike again. Lyn blinked, and blinked again, waiting for the image to clear. The tips of her fingers tingled, but it wasn't her magic's familiar spark. The world seemed to weave and dip like it was some grand boat out at sea. With a terrifying sluggishness, she realized the arrow had been poisoned. She brought up a hand, intent to sear the very flesh from the wretched archer's bones, yet try as she might, the energies that came so naturally to her were gone. Horror filled her far more keenly than the poison as the realization set in, here eyes going impossibly wide.
Blessed Alduin...
What did she do without magic?
She breathed rapidly, pain searing her at each turn as she stumbled backward. Her foot faltered as she stepped, sending her stumbling sideways into the wall. To her great fortune, an arrow streaked past her, buffeting her with a rush of wind as it narrowly missed its mark. Lyn's mind worked desperately. There had to be something...
More hazy figures danced around her as she unwillingly sank to her knees. In desperation, she lifted her head to the sky and called out between short, stabbing breaths.
"Krah… sil… saan!"
She blinked heavily, thankful that at least even in this state, the words seemed to come second nature. Rough hands grabbed her, and she had no choice but to let them as they hauled her to her feet and all but dragged her toward wherever it was they wanted. She was somewhat surprised they did not kill her outright. She certainly would have, had their roles been reversed. But to her, it all seemed irrelevant compared to the fact that the air she drew in seemed to be less and less effective. In fact, it felt like all of the air around her was burning. Suddenly she didn't feel the support of the mens' arms anymore. She listed, feeling as if she fell through mud. A titanic impact shook the ground, before something large and all together familiar caught her. It cradled her gently, but jostled the arrow still lodged within her, tearing a cry from her lips. Words echoed in her ears but she couldn't seem to hold onto them long enough to string them together and find the meaning.
Her mind wandered aimlessly, thoughts drifting in and out at leisure. There was something she was supposed to remember…
She felt herself move, the rhythm of wings beating the air clear even in her stupor. Cold air clawed at her, pulling at her hair and robes before a dark object covered her, shielding her from the gale.
There was something…
The face of a lanky boy bubbled up to the fore of her thoughts, his small smile strangely wonderful as he worked at an alchemy table bathed in the orange light of sunset.
With a satisfied smile, she finally managed to pry the information from her mind. Reaching for her belt with a trembling hand, she pulled a small red bottle from a pouch, tugged out the cork and drank the contents. Nodding, and illogically proud of herself, she closed her eyes, unable to fight the tide of sleep that enveloped her.
"Sam," Matthias began. "Please stop singing. The dogs three provinces over are howling."
"No appreciation for the arts," he sighed. "The Ballad of Sir Stink-foot is a classic!"
"I'm pretty sure you made it up," Claudia countered.
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
"The grammar," she grimaced, rolling her eyes.
"I talk goodly," he grinned.
"You should feel well about yourself," she smirked.
"Sam," Matthias interjected. "I think you're too fun to tease for your own good."
"Meh," he shrugged. "I can take it. Besides, everyone's way too serious all the time anyway. Someone's got to be the dashing and quick-witted one," he said dramatically.
"You should have been a bard," Claudia smiled.
"What, no jab at dashing? Or quick-witted? I set you up perfectly and you were nice?" he gaped.
"And now I'm starting to regret it," she shook her head.
The three chuckled as they made their way across the open expanse toward the temple, the late afternoon sun warm on their backs.
"I wonder if we missed lunch..." Matthias mused, biting his lip.
"Don't worry," Claudia soothed, patting his shoulder. "I can make us something if we did."
"I doubt Martha would let us go hungry," Sam commented.
"Hope so," he replied.
A bellowing roar shattered the calm, forcing Matthias to flinch reflexively. He turned to and fro, but found nothing. In a breath, Claudia pointed to the sky.
"Up there!"
Krahsilsaan dove rapidly toward the ground. He beat his wings at the last moment, roaring again as he landed clumsily.
"Is he hurt?" Matthias asked Sam.
"I don't know," he replied before sprinting off, leaving the other two to follow. He wracked his mind for the words in the dragon tongue from his studies, but found them elusive. With a swear, he drew close to the dragon and feebly offered, "Dovah Thur."
"Call forth Vokun!" he demanded sharply in their tongue.
"He left to survey a cave," Sam replied quickly.
Krahsilsaan groaned painfully and unfolded his clawed hands to reveal a blood soaked Lyn.
"Help her!" he demanded, anguished. "I cannot heal your fragile kind!"
"Lyn!" Matthias screamed, rushing forward.
"Dread Dragon! What do we do?" Sam asked in panic.
Claudia looked between them all before her gaze settled on Matthias. She grimaced and clenched her fist, taking a deep breath.
"Stay calm," she interjected firmly, striding forward. "Dragon, how is she wounded?"
"One of your wretched arrows!" he spat.
"Is that the only wound?"
"Is that not enough for you?" he balked.
She stepped up to Lyn, wheedling past Sam. With an extraordinarily careful touch, she pushed Lyn's robe slightly from around the wound.
"It looks like she tried to heal to the injury herself. It's closed around the arrow. This will not be easy," she stated factually.
"But what do we do!?" Matthias insisted frantically.
"You stay calm," she replied. "We need to move her somewhere that we can better tend to her. After that, we have to take the arrow out. She's going to bleed a lot once we do, so do you have any potions to help seal the wound?"
"No," he stammered. "No, we're all out of ingredients!"
"What about the Blisterwort we just found?" she insisted.
He blinked once.
"Yes!" he exclaimed. Gods how could he have forgotten? "That will work!"
"They did something to her," Krahsilsaan interjected. "I spoke, but she did not seem to understand. She could not fight. The scent of her magic was gone."
"The arrow was likely poisoned," Claudia nodded. "Must've been a magicka poison. Otherwise I'm pretty sure she would have healed herself completely. Sam, the big man that works the old forge. Do you know where he is right now?"
"Rolf?" he questioned before shaking away his confusion. "Yes, I can find him."
"Good, do so. We'll need him to carry her inside."
"Done," he barked, speeding away.
"Matthias, do you need anything else to heal the wound?"
He hesitated for a moment.
"No, everything's in my room. I'll grab it once we're inside."
"Good," she nodded.
Claudia pursed her lips and took a deep breath as she turned and studied Lyn's prone form.
"Dragon," she said, shifting her gaze to him.. "Tell me what happened."
"I do not know," he shook his horned head. "I felt her call. It was frighteningly weak. My wings carried me with all the speed they could, but those filthy joorre still laid their hands upon her. I burnt them to ash," he seethed darkly. "She would not answer my queries, merely looked..." he shook his head again. "Tell me you can assist her."
"She'll be fine, there's no need to worry," Claudia insisted.
Matthias approached and carefully set his hand on Lyn's forehead.
"You can heal her," Claudia persisted, the undertone of a question lingering in her words.
He nodded grimly, without a word.
Krahsilsaan twitched impatiently, careful not to jostle Lyn as the breaths clawed past painfully slowly. He wanted to roar his frustration to the sky and loose his flame upon the world. Still, it could have been but the blink of an eye before he saw the little mortals scurry back.
Claudia sighed in relief as Sam came charging into view with Rolf close on his heels.
"What happened?" the smith demanded.
"Later," Claudia said. "We need to get her inside. Can you carry her? Mind the arrow."
Rolf nodded and carefully scooped Lyn into his arms, wincing as her blood-soaked clothing oozed crimson onto his skin.
"Go," Claudia insisted.
Rolf did not hesitate, but moved off steadily, long strides eating away the distance. Matthias was behind him the entire time.
She spun to Sam. "Can you get to Vokun? He needs to be informed."
"Um, I think so, but I'm not exactly sure..." he hesitated.
"I can take you to him if you can guide me," Krahsilsaan offered quickly, claws digging tracks in the soil. Doing anything was better than waiting, even if he did have to play horse to another mortal.
Sam nodded with a gulp and scuttled toward the leviathan.
Claudia heaved a sharp breath, steadying herself as she dashed off and caught up with Matthias.
"Someday you'll have to tell me how you've managed to stay so calm. And how you knew what to do," he muttered to distract himself as they hurried along.
"I told you, I've had lots of odd jobs."
"Fair enough," he shrugged.
To Matthias, he seemed to blink and they were deep within the corridors, heading for the Dragon Priest's quarters. A small pile of furs on a stone slab made the bed, and Rolf sat Lyn gently atop it, holding her steady so that she didn't jostle the arrow.
"Lyn?" Claudia asked.
The elf's eyelids twitched for a moment, but nothing more.
The young woman stepped back and frowned thoughtfully.
"I don't suppose pouring the potion directly in the wound would work?" she asked Matthias, surprised to see he'd somehow already retrieved his alchemy equipment and was busy preparing the potion they would need.
"Slightly, but not to its fullest effect," he replied quickly, crushing ingredients viciously in his mortar and pestle.
"Oh, I hate to do this," Claudia sighed heavily. "It would be so much better if she could stay unconscious… Nothing to be done for it though," she looked up at the smith. "Rolf, was it?"
He turned to her.
"We need to break off the fletching," she grimaced.
"I know," he replied solemnly. "I had to do this more than once during the Dragon War."
Claudia's mouth snapped shut as she winced at the thought.
The russet fletching seemed to gleam mockingly as Rolf steeled himself and gripped the arrow shaft against Lyn's back, steadying it as much as he could before taking hold of the fletched portion in his dominant hand. With a swift wrench of the wood, the shaft split with a jarring crack. Lyn stirred reflexively as blood seeped steadily from the jostled wound, but otherwise did not wake.
Claudia sighed regretfully and fished in her pocket for a moment before she withdrew a remarkably tiny vial. She held it carefully beneath Lyn's nose before removing the stopper. For a moment, nothing happened, then, seemingly all at once, Lyn reeled back, coughing.
Rolf held her securely, preventing her from exacerbating the wound.
"Don't suppose you have anything that can knock her out again afterward?" he mused hopefully.
Claudia shook her head, frowning.
"What..." Lyn began, shallow breaths wheezing.
"You were in a fight," Claudia surmised quickly. "You have an arrow in you still. We need to take it out, but afterward we need you to drink a potion so you don't bleed to death."
Lyn stared her down silently for a moment, absorbing the information.
"Krahsilsaan?" she asked.
"Huh?" Claudia frowned.
"He's outside," Matthias supplied.
She attempted to push Rolf away and swing her legs off the bed only to have all three of the rooms' other occupants chastise her for it.
"We need to get the arrow out," Claudia repeated firmly.
"Yes, yes," she dismissed. "After I go and-" Her words were cut short by a groan of pain. She looked down and touched two slender fingers to the blood-crusted arrowhead.
"Oh," was all she said. "Well that's inconvenient..."
"Bite down on this," Rolf urged, offering her his glove.
This time, she did not protest.
He met her eyes in a silent apology as he gripped the haft of the arrow firmly, and heaved in one remarkably fluid motion.
The ragged scream that tore from her seemed beyond the capacity for any mortal to make. Matthias flinched and fought the urge to cover his ears. Phantom pain flared in his chest as he gazed upon the gory arrow. Divines, no one should ever have to endure such a thing.
Lyn gritted her teeth, breathing heavily as she picked up the glove that had fallen from her in her scream and clenched it firmly in her balled fist. Her eyes closed as her face contorted into a mask of pain.
"Lyn..." Matthias began, heart aching as he drew close to her.
She did not look at him.
"Lyn, you need to drink this," he said more insistently.
All he got in response was a groan.
"Lyn, you need to drink this or you're going to bleed out," he stated firmly in a tone he hoped was authoritative.
This time she opened her eyes and stared at him, grimacing.
"Drink this," he commanded, putting the bottle to her lips.
She obeyed.
"Good," he praised softly. "Now this one," he insisted, replacing the potion with a curative for the poison.
"Blessed Alduin," she groaned painfully as Rolf eased her back slowly to lay on the bed.
"Get some rest," he insisted, turning for the door. The scent of metal and forge receded as he vanished into the halls.
Matthias stayed and watched as her expression slowly relaxed. He felt a light hand on his shoulder.
"We'll have to wait for Vokun to get the blood from her lungs, but she'll endure. Just make sure she stays still," Claudia offered with a soft smile. "I'll give you some peace," Claudia said, excusing herself.
He caught her hand quickly.
"Thank you," he breathed earnestly. "For everything. I don't know what we would have done."
"You'd have figured it out," she winked, squeezing his hand. "But you're welcome nonetheless."
With that, she departed, politely closing the door in her wake.
"I used the potion you gave me," Lyn muttered weakly in the girl's wake. "It tasted like feet."
Matthias blinked once, then burst out laughing.
"And how do you know what feet taste like, huh?" he teased.
She rolled her eyes with a wry smile.
A long moment passed where the only sound was Lyn's rough breathing.
"Well," she grimaced as she made to pull something out of a pouch on her belt. "At least the day wasn't a total loss. I managed to bring you back a present."
He made to tell her she shouldn't have, but the words lodged in his throat as she withdrew a lustrous yellow flower that looked akin to the flora found clinging to the mountainsides of Skyrim. He reached out and scooped up the cutting delicately.
"Do you know what this is?" he breathed.
"No," she said. "Tell me about it." After all, she'd traded it from a remarkably inebriated beggar, so her sources were shoddy at best. By Alduin the morning seemed like a distant memory.
"It's a yellow mountain flower," he began eagerly. "They're beyond rare. Supposedly they only grow in one or two places in Skyrim. They can be used to create one of the most potent curatives for poison possible. Jarls would sometimes keep a distillation of them in case someone tried to poison them."
He continued on, but Lyn simply let the soft melody of his voice wash over her soothingly. Even as the potion mended her battered flesh, it still felt as if a white-hot rod had been speared through her chest. She smirked scornfully. When was the last time she'd actually been injured? In truth, she could not remember. Except… There was something long ago. Not a wound, but pain. The greatest pain she had ever experienced.
Sleep consumed her, leaving her to wade through dreams of memory.
Apprehension threatened to crush the heart in her chest as she strode down the aisle of the glorious temple. The open air tugged at her hair as the sunset set the sky on fire. Yet it wasn't the stare of the entire mass of followers within the settlement, nor the portent of the ceremony that made her tense. It was the eyes of her master as he stood upon the looming dais. They bored into her as her long strides carried her to him proudly. The wind changed direction as a massive gust buffeted them before a massive dragon landed thunderously. Her eyes widened as her step faltered for but a moment. Surely that couldn't be…
But it had to be him.
It had to be the dragon that had saved her so many years ago.
His effulgent, azure scales glimmered like cool water as he folded his powerful wings. Every facet of his being seemed burned into her memory. Dreams of their meeting haunted her sleep like a wraith. A part of her found it strange that she dreamt of him rather than finding her parents murdered, yet she did not dwell on it. Still, by all that was sacred, to see him now… It was unreal. She stared, wondering if somehow her dreams had invaded reality. The crystalline eyes blinked at her calmly, drawing her from her stupor. The dragon turned his head ever so slightly to her master, subtly reminding her where her focus should be at the moment.
Still, she kept her gaze upon him for but a moment longer as her steps continued forward. Did he know how much she longed to see him again? How desperately she wanted the chance to thank him for saving her? He blinked his absorbing eyes once and turned his gaze fully to Vokun. The man's trimmed gray beard and subtly wrinkled face was carefully sequestered behind his silvery mask.
Lyn's snapped back to attention, berating herself for losing focus. Her master would not be pleased. She stopped before the handful of steps leading to the dais and knelt.
"This child comes before us seeking to Ascend," Vokun announced. His voice carried far across the stones of the temple, easily reaching all who were present. Not a voice murmured, nor gust of wind challenged him, as if all the world yielded to him. "How do we find her?" he asked, turning to three figures standing in the front row. Their ceremonial russet robes marked them as Arbiters.
"Worthy," answered the first. His vibrant garb made the blotched bruise of a black eye stand out in remarkable contrast.
All eyes turned to the Arbiter beside him.
"Worthy," she heaved, sounding as if she had difficulty breathing. Indeed, if one looked closely, she seemed to be holding the side of her ribs.
The third in the line shrank back from the steely gaze of the man in the mask. He shuddered and shivered, at last lifting his voice to barely whisper, "Worthy."
Vokun smiled grimly beneath his mask.
"Then Eminence, are you ready to begin the ritual?"
"Hold," the dragon commanded. "It seems you have forgotten the proper order of things, Vokun," the dragon declared icily. "This one is not even a Disciple, yet you come here to make her your Hand?"
"I have trained her myself in the very same lessons as the Disciples. She is as proficient as any of them, likely more so," he countered. "Test her, if it pleases you, Eminence," he bowed.
The dragon scoffed, baring his gleaming fangs. He turned his immutable gaze to her for a long moment, pondering. His eyes closed for a moment only to snap open a breath later.
"Approach," he commanded.
Lyn glanced quickly to Vokun, who nodded curtly. With uncertain steps, she ascended the stairs to stand before the great beast, bowing the moment she was at the top.
"Are you prepared?" he asked.
"I am, Eminence."
He lowered his voice so that none but she could hear him.
"This will be unpleasant for you, likely painful. I will be permitted to see every facet of your mind, your soul. You will have no secrets from me."
She nodded grimly.
"I understand," she replied.
He chucked in amusement.
"Not yet, but you will," he promised. With that, he drew in a slow breath and parted his jaws. Three lone words whispered from him with shuddering power.
"Sil, hah, vahaz"
Lyn gasped, and struggled. Dimly she realized she understood the words. "Soul, Mind, True" forged into a shout that now showed him everything she was, and everything she desired. The entirety of her self was laid bare to the dragon and suddenly a tendril of fear shuddered through her. There was a very good chance that if he did not like what he saw, she would burn.
By the Dread Dragon, this sensation! It was like his touch ran the length of her body, a caress across all of her skin at once. It felt strangely thrilling, to actually be permitted this contact with him. She could not say if it was his mind she felt, or perhaps his soul, but extraordinary feelings burned within her. For a brief moment, she saw an endless field of stars amid a snaking aurora, then the passage of seasons as mere blinks of an eye. Still more concepts drifted to her, but she could not hold on to them. Throughout, her mind rebelled reflexively against the invasion only to be gently nudged aside. Memories, thoughts, emotions, all prostrated for his judgment.
She felt herself fading, falling, like pieces of sand blowing away on the wind. Just when she thought there would be nothing left of her, he withdrew, leaving her huddled in the echo of her silent mind.
"Worthy," he thundered.
Cheers rose up from the masses.
"I grant you a new name to begin you new life," he declared imperiously. "Be at ease, Mid-onliin."
Her mind throbbed dully. Try as she might, she could not seem to find the meanings of those words, though she knew they were of the dragon tongue.
She did not remember the rest of the ceremony, nor being lead away from it back to Vokun's chambers. All she remembered was the aftermath as she returned to awareness to find her master unmasked, grinning with dark pleasure.
It brought her such joy to see. Had she made him happy? Was he proud?
"You've done well, child," he praised, setting his hand atop her head. "But there is one more task you must complete to truly become my Hand."
She beamed at his praise, reveling in it.
"Of course, Master. Whatever you require," she nodded.
"Good," he snapped his fingers.
Two hooded men entered the room dragging a third male between them. They threw him on the floor only to have him spring back up, despite having his hands tied. The hooded men grabbed him and forced him roughly to his knees.
Lyn looked to her master.
He passing her a dagger wordlessly.
"Am I to kill him then?" she asked calmly, taking the dagger.
"No, my child," he replied, trailing his fingers down her cheek. "He and others conspire against me. You will get me their names," he declared.
"Understood," she nodded.
How she had managed the task, she never knew. All she could ever remember was the feeling of the warm blood flowing over her hands and the screams in her ears. Eventually those screams had turned to names, and when her master was finally satisfied, she slit the man's throat.
He set his hand on her head and stroked her hair as he praised her once more, dismissing her into the night. She found her steps lead her to an empty courtyard overlooking a cliff. A keen ache settled in her chest, not for her deeds, but for the fact that the dragon was gone, and she'd never gotten to tell him how grateful she was. Perhaps he had seen it in her mind, but it was not the same. She watched the stars, but compared to the sky through his eyes, it seemed hollow.
"Wash the blood from your hands, Child-Of-Snow," advised a voice behind her.
She spun at once, hope blooming in her chest.
Atop the roof of the complex sat the dragon, tail slowly swishing back and forth as he watched her. At any other time, she might have wondered how the roof could support his bulk, but for the moment, she was simply enamored.
"I wanted to tell you..." she blurted hastily, but suddenly found she had no idea where to begin.
"I know, child," he soothed. "I know."
Like a great sabre cat, he rose and padded down into the courtyard, watching her with glimmering eyes.
"You look… so sad," she whispered.
"Do I?" he asked softly.
She nodded slowly.
He stared at her in silence for a moment.
"Do you remember my name?" he asked at last.
Her eyes widened and she made to tuck her hair behind her ear only to realize her hands were still covered in gummy blood.
"I… don't believe I was ever graced with the knowledge, Eminence," she replied, formally.
His eyes were twin pools of a vast sorrow, the reason for which escaped her, yet she felt the nigh unquellable need to comfort him.
"Eminence, I-"
He cut off her words with the shake of his head.
"Cleanse your hands," he ordered.
She took a step back, hesitantly, then glanced around. A pool of water with colorful fish was an opaque mirror in the starlight. Without another thought, she skirted the seats meant for meditation beside it and plunged her hands into the cold depths. She worked methodically, cleaning every trace of blood, if only to please him.
"Good," he praised. "At least now you do not reek so much like them. Approach me."
She hurried to obey.
"I have a gift for you, child, but if any knew of this, they would likely kill us both. Do you understand?"
"Eminence, if it puts you in danger, then please, I must insist that you refrain. I couldn't accept it knowing what it might cost you," she protested softly.
"No," he shook his horned head. "I must do this for myself. I thought I could refrain, but as the years pass, it wears on me like waves upon the shore. So strange it is to feel time when I have always stood outside its pull..."
"Eminence?"
"Cup your hands," he ordered softly, lifting a claw to his chest.
Lyn frowned in confusion before he plunged the steely talon between his scales, cutting a shallow gash. She gasped and rushed to cover the wound as he removed his claw.
"No, take what I offer," he said, halting her.
To Lyn's ears, it almost sounded like a plea.
"I cannot, Eminence, it is surely heresy," she breathed.
His eyes bored into hers. By the Dread Dragon, she would give anything to still the sorrow within them. As if pulled by an unseen force, she found herself walking forward and cupping her hands below the wound. This time, the blood that covered her sent a mixture of sweet elation and fear shuddering down her spine.
He stepped back, watching her intently. She knew what was coming, but still...
"Drink," he urged.
Staring into his eyes, she found her reservations evaporate. She placed her hands to her lips and tilted the thick crimson liquid into her mouth.
The dragon's fangs parted as she drank. He waited patiently, claws digging into the paved stones.
Lyn wondered just what the dragon expected to happen a breath before pain exploded in her body. She screamed, hoarse and ragged, as she fell to the ground.
"They cannot hear us," he offered solemnly, glancing back to the buildings. "Scream as you need. You must endure," he implored softly.
She hardly heard him over the screams tearing from her throat. Her very blood was on fire, her muscles laced with lightning, her bones the coldest ice. Every move brought agony, and every agony demanded movement in a desperate attempt to escape it.
Behind the pain waited something. Something she desperately wanted, needed. She battered against the field of mist that obscured her mind. There was so much behind it, she knew. If only she could…
But the pain ripped her back to her body, writhing in throes of pain. She fought, raging, trying desperately to scour memory and thought.
The dragon's solemn eyes loomed over her. For a moment, she forgot her pain as her own eyes widened. A baffling emotion suffused the entirety of her being, one she had no name for, but compelled her nonetheless. She reached out a trembling hand toward him, a dire need burning within her. He touched his nose to her hand.
"Krah...silsaan..." she rasped with a pain lashed voice, wondering how she could have ever forgotten. Her battered mind clawed feebly for the answers it needed, but they vanished, swallowed up by nothingness as she collapsed.
"Rest," he soothed.
No. No, she couldn't rest. Didn't he understand? She had to remember! It was so tantalizingly, maddeningly close! Without it, she could not be whole! She tried to pull herself toward him feebly.
"Sleep," he breathed. Strangely, she seemed to hear his voice within her mind. It was not a Shout, but it lulled her all the same.
Darkness ate away her vision as she closed her eyes.
Dimly, as if from a dream, she heard him lament to the stars.
"Forgive me."
His nose touched her chest remorsefully.
"I cannot find the words."
Then there was naught but silence as she was subsumed into the murky depths of unconsciousness.
Matthias twined his fingers into Lyn's slack palm.
He reached out a trembling hand and stroked her soft hair as he listened to the sound of her shallow breaths. Tears welled in his eyes before spilling over and landing on the bed with audible plops. He reminded himself again and again that she would recover, that she was out of danger, but he couldn't stop himself. Slowly, his shoulders began to shake, the spasms moving down his back until finally a sob escaped his throat. Another followed on its heels, and he relented, letting them roll softly from him in a somber cascade. Light fingers twitched in his grip before he felt her hand close around his weakly. He glanced up frantically and gasped in relief. Her eyes were mere slits cracked open in her wane face, but even so, she watched him silently. Slowly, she offered him a weak facade of her characteristic smirk, running her thumb along his hand.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, wiping his eyes.
She reached up with a swaying arm and set her hand upon his head.
"I'm not so easy to kill," she smirked, wincing as she removed her hand.
He laughed shakily, then jumped in surprise as her fingers traced his face.
"I would have bled out twice now without you. Thank you," she said somberly.
He blinked at her in disbelief.
"A-are you in pain?" he deflected, glancing away.
She caught his chin and forced him to meet her eyes, staring unwaveringly.
"You're welcome," he whispered finally.
She released him and resettled herself on the bed. A groan escaped her as the movement pulled at her battered body.
"Try to lay still," he insisted. "That potion wasn't strong enough to heal you completely. You still need to rest."
"Will you stay?" she asked almost inaudibly.
"Of course," he replied earnestly.
Her eyes locked on the ceiling, gaze unreadable.
"Lyn?"
"I am supposed to be stronger than this," she murmured.
He fumbled for a response.
"I do not wish to sleep. At all," she asserted quickly, halting any reply. "Tell me of your day."
He shrugged and obliged, softly relaying the day's events, though he conveniently left out his freezing in fear at the spider.
"Claudia saved me. Well her and another, but she helped to tend to you as well. I can't believe how calm she was," he mused.
"She seems... exceptionally competent," Lyn admitted, grudgingly.
"A complement? From you? You must not be feeling well," he smirked.
"Quiet or I'll feed you to Krahsilsaan," she grumbled.
He chuckled softly before they sat once more in silence.
"Can I ask you a question?" Lyn wondered.
"Of course," he nodded.
"What was your mother like?"
"My mother?" he hesitated, blinking. "What brought this on?"
"I just…" she began. "Something Krahsilsaan said to me yesterday made me wonder… It's not important, pay no heed," she dismissed quickly.
"No, don't," he hurriedly countered. "She was kind," he said simply. "She didn't go out all that much, but she was very smart, and spent much of her time teaching me things. I wasn't always a very good learner, but she tried to be patient. Math always used to be easier than letters and things," he sighed. "She could get really mad at me and people sometimes, but she was still a good person."
"Did she ever strike you?" she asked.
"No, never. Well... once, but I deserved that," he replied with a grin.
"What did you do?"
"Well, I may or may not have turned our neighbor's dog invisible… as well as their children."
Lyn chuckled heartily, then winced, wishing she hadn't.
"But in my defense, I didn't know they would drink from the dog's water dish," he continued.
"That doesn't sound like you," she commented.
"I was a bit of a troublesome youth," he smiled.
"Alduin preserve us," she teased.
He laughed.
"What about you? Did you ever do anything mischievous?"
"No, I did not dare. My master would not have tolerated it," she shook her head.
"Oh, that's rough," he offered softly.
"Not really," she dismissed. "My master was not unjust. He sheltered me from those who might have done me harm and went through great pains to make me strong. He asked very little of me in return. It seemed ungrateful to disobey him."
"What is it the dragon said that upset you?" he wondered aloud.
"Nothing," she bit out, hands balling into fists.
He watched her, frowning.
"Lyn?"
"I'm going to sleep," she retorted.
She felt him there, watching her as she closed her eyes and feigned a peace she did not feel. Her master had been a great man. He'd given her everything. Krahsilsaan's eyes were clouded in this matter.
She waited for sleep to come, but despite her weary flesh, her raging mind would not permit it. Lyn grimaced and opened her eyes to glare at the ceiling again. She turned over on her side, wincing, then returned to laying on her back restlessly. By the Dread Dragon, if she laid here much longer she was going to put an ice spear through the wall. Well, provided she could manage more than a tuft of snowflakes at the moment… Which she could not. She growled in frustration, promising to find the mortal that poisoned her and rip out his entrails before his very eyes.
A soft song drifted into her ears, halting her breath and quelling the raging tide of anger within her. In disbelief, she looked to Matthias to find him turned away from her, a soothing melody flowing from him. She stared, gaping like a fool as the crystalline notes drifted through the air. How could he have remembered? She wanted to ask him, but found she could not bring herself to interrupt.
But somehow…
...the song she had sung to him in the ruins long ago flowed clearly from his lips.
She closed her eyes, letting the sound wash over her until it ended, leaving her despondent for its loss. The urge to beg him to continue rose within her, but she quelled it quickly, unsure if the act would mark her as weak. She wondered what her master might have thought, but a hasty knock at the door banished the question.
Vokun threw open the door in a whirlwind and leapt to her side.
"Lyn! I'm sorry! I-"
"Peace, my love, I am fine," she soothed, reaching out to take his hand.
"It took time for Sam to find the cave and us within it," he explained. "I'm sorry."
"I'm fine," she insisted, placing his hand upon her cheek.
"She'll be alright," Matthias offered softly. "If you could heal the would the rest of the way, that would be good though. She also has blood in her lungs still."
"I'll take care of it," Vokun nodded.
"She'll still need to rest for the blood loss, and while the last remnants of the poison leave her body, but I don't think she'll be down for long. She's too stubborn," he added with a smirk.
"Don't make me come over there," she threatened.
He grinned unabashed as Vokun nodded his understanding again.
Matthias stood slowly, joints cracking.
"I'll give you two some peace," he said, echoing Claudia as he set his hand on Vokun's shoulder before turning to leave.
"Matthias?" Vokun's voice called. "Thank you."
He nodded over his shoulder as he strode off into the halls. Lyn's strange questions floated through his mind still, making him frown. He bit his lip as he turned his steps down a different path. It was high time he found out more about this master Lyn spoke of so amorously. And he knew just the dragon to ask.
"Are you not satisfied?"Krahsilsaan asked slowly, the drifting snow falling in lonely flakes.
"I… was hoping for something different," Matthias replied solemnly, watching the stars wheel through the sky. Arcwind Point looked strangely beautiful at night.
"Mm. As was I," the dragon sighed. "But..." He did not finish, merely kneaded the soil with his claws.
"I can't even imagine what that would have been like," Matthias muttered.
"Can you not?" Krahsilsaan asked. "I'm not sure that's entirely true."
"How… would you know that?" Matthias hesitated, taking a step backward.
"I know many things, child," he offered cryptically.
"That's unsettling..." the boy muttered.
Krahsilsaan chuckled.
"You know, Lyn says you're different from other dragons. I think I'm starting to believe it… And apparently they have two legs and you have four."
Krahsilsaan seemed to smile.
"It is not the only difference from my brethren I possess, but yes. If you would know why, I will give you the same answer I provided her."
"What?" he prompted.
The dragon stared at him silently, tail swishing through the snow as he waited before Matthias finally understood.
"You're not going to tell me, are you?" he frowned.
The only answer was a hearty laugh.
"Fine then, keep your secrets," he pouted, folding his arms.
The dragon opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut as his head whipped up to the sky.
"Get behind me! Now!" Krahsilsaan demanded sharply. "Do not move, do not make a sound!"
Matthias obeyed quickly, taking shelter behind the dragon's foreleg. He wanted to ask what was going on, but held his questions, feeling he would understand soon enough. Not a heartbeat later, a titanic red dragon erupted from the mountaintops and plunged down, landing in a thunderous spray of rocks and snow.
Blood-hued eyes lifted to Krahsilsaan.
"Ah, my cold brother," the newcomer greeted. "I thought I felt the whisper of your voice. How fare thee?"
"Munaxjoorah, it is pleasing to see you again," he lied, lifting his horned head in acknowledgment.
Matthias shuddered at their voices. Though he couldn't understand the words, somehow the emotions behind them crashed upon him like an unforgiving sea.
"Forgive my intrusion upon your meditation, great brother. I simply could not contain my elation at the return to my flesh. It has been so long since we've flown the skies of this world, has it not?"
"It has, my brother," he agreed.
"Come, fly with me!" Munaxjoorah implored. "I have not hunted in ages!"
"Alas, dear brother, I cannot. My meditation is not complete," he lied deftly. "I must remain and complete it. However, I believe I saw an excellent herd of elk toward the sun's set that would satisfy your hunger."
Munaxjoorah threw back his head and laughed scornfully.
"No, dear brother, it is not my hunger I wish to satisfy. I would fly across the land and sew terror among the mortals. It seems they have forgotten our right to rule. Let us bathe their flesh in fire until they realize their folly."
Krahsilsaan paused a moment, as if thinking it over.
"Alas, I must refuse. My meditation calls me. And, in truth, the mortals simply do not interest me."
Munaxjoorah sighed as he padded around his brother.
"Truly? Because I smell their stench lingering upon you," he accused.
Krahsilsaan cursed himself at once. The snow child's blood still clung to his claws. He'd been far too absorbed in staring hopelessly at the crimson stains as he worried over her to even think of cleaning them.
"I will not hunt with you," Krahsilsaan asserted sharply. "Leave me to my thoughts."
The red dragon snarled in displeasure.
"What became of the fearsome hunter I once knew? Did we not fly wingtip to wingtip against the foolish mortals when they rebelled so pitifully?"
"We did, my brother."
"And how many fell to your frost?" he prompted.
"I did what was needed of me. Now, I merely wish to meditate in solitude."
Munaxjoorah bared his fangs in a clear threat as he circled.
"What has happened to you? By our great father, you have become weak!" he spat hatefully. "Then again, you were always but a shadow after she was killed. Oh if she could see how broken you are! Truly, I am glad of her death. At least she will be spared the sight!"
Krahsilsaan's head shot forward, jaws snapping viciously for the male's neck with resounding cracks. The red dragon reared away, flaring his wings. He retaliated with a savage lash of his spike-tipped wing, cutting shallow swaths in his brother's azure neck.
Krahsilsaan danced backwards, surprisingly nimble for his bulk. In his haste, he knocked Matthias heavily to the ground. In a blink, he scooped the boy up and bounded to the tunnel.
"Seal it at once!" he commanded, throwing child toward the dark opening.
"You disgust me!" the red dragon sneered.
"Excellent," Krahsilsaan goaded. "Then I'm doing something right!"
"You wingless traitor! I'll burn you to ash!" Munaxjoorah seethed, sucking in a breath.
"The only traitor here is you, tyrannical fool!"
As one, they loosed their breath, fire and frost colliding and crackling as steam exploded outward. Snow fell from the grand peaks around them as their voices shook the very stones.
Red wings beat the air as Munaxjoorah launched himself skyward.
"You think one as weak as you can defeat me?" he laughed.
"Weak?" Krahsilsaan sneered, laughing. "Did you forget what I am, dear brother? Did you forget the powers I was granted? Between us, you pitiful child, it is you who are the weak one. Shall I show you the limits of your power?"
The world shuddered as a wordless explosion ripped from Krahsilsaan's throat and slammed into his airborne brother, shredding the delicate membranes of his wings into bloody ribbons, sending him crashing to the ground. He spread his azure wings and rose into the opaque sky. His jaws opened as the moons struck his scales, and he loosed a torrent of pure energy from his maw. The scream of putrid agony that wailed from his brother lasted only a moment before he was no more than a writhing stain upon the land.
"Now you are nothing," Krahsilsaan snarled as he landed heavily, panting. Orange tendrils began to rise from the broken remains of his brother's corpse before speeding toward him.
He snarled, loosing his wrath in a Shout.
"Ril, Vaaz, Dinok!"
The pleasure of the deed frightened him. He struggled to suppress the emotion, fearing what he might become. Yet the only thing he found beyond it was doubt. In a moment of anger, he had destroyed his brother's very soul, stolen from him an eternity for the words of an irrelevant blink in time. His claws dug bitterly into the soil as he shrugged away the billowing light swirling around him, casting away the last vestiges of the male. Despite his regret, despite the power it promised, he would have no part of that cruel soul.
"Are you alright?" a frightened voice asked.
His head whipped around to find the mortal child beside him, frightened and hesitant.
"I told you to run!" he raged at the insolent boy.
"Lyn would have stayed," he offered meekly.
"She is useful in a fight!"
He punctuated his anger with a vehement roar. The boy at least had the sense to step back quickly.
Krahsilsaan shut his eyes, trying to reign in his anger.
"Leave me," he said softly. "My mind is a maelstrom."
He stared forlornly at the snow child's blood, still clinging to his claws, and the dark stain pf his brother upon the snow.
"Tell me again that she will survive," he implored solemnly, knowing the boy had not moved.
"She'll be fine," he insisted. You could talk to her right now, if you could fit into the building.
He gave a half-hearted laugh.
"My mind is unfit for conversation at the moment."
With that, he took to the sky, leaving Matthias as no more than a dwindling speck upon the ground.
"Hey."
Matthias jumped and glanced up to see Claudia standing in the main hall of the temple's silent interior.
"Hey," he replied simply.
"You look like you could use a cup of tea," she surmised softly, brows furrowed in concern.
"Yeah, it's been a day," he agreed.
"Gods, you're bleeding!" she exclaimed, rushing forward and grabbing his arm.
"Oh," he said simply, staring at the gash above his elbow.
"Come on," she insisted gently. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"That's okay," he muttered. "I can manage."
"Why don't you let someone take care of you for a change?" she said kindly, taking his hand and leading him away.
A warm smile spread across his face.
"Alright," he nodded.
A/N: The next chapter is going to be delayed by a week. I hate to do it, but I'd rather get something of quality out rather than something speedy. Also, these chapters seem to be getting much longer.
That being said, this was personally one of my favorite chapters. I actually enjoyed editing it because I got to reread it. o.o Weird, I know.
