First Seed 6, 3E433
The unsharpened iron blade thudded awkwardly against the surrogate corpse. I wished these assassins would kill me already. I had already proven my uselessness; I was hopeless at any form of combat. Vicente had long since given up trying to correct my technique this training session, but I knew that he had not yet given up hope.
I was the youngest here by several years. It didn't seem to disquiet them how young I was; perhaps all new members were my age until they either died or survived; perhaps they thought that my mystery ailment had also stunted my growth. They still spoke to me whenever they passed me in corridors, as if they were hoping for a reaction. They did indeed get a reaction; I would involuntarily step away from them whenever they spoke to me.
The darkness within me was growing in strength, as if it was feasting on the darkness of the Dark Brotherhood. I still could not recall the cause of my unconsciousness when I first entered the sanctuary; my family never discussed it, as if they expected me to know what had happened. I had already read the sanctuary's sparse collection of books, so I instead spent my time studying the darkness. It had the qualities of an intelligence, but it couldn't communicate with words. It was as if the darkness was incomplete.
One swing of the blade was particularly out of control, missing the dummy entirely. My hand continued to swing, but my wrist was soon caught by someone else's hand. His hand was cold like a corpse, but was as strong as an Orc's. He removed the weapon from my hand and pulled me around to face him.
"I think that is enough for today, Nagaia," he said at long last.
I both longed for and hated this moment for several reasons. I found the exercise pointless, but it also filled time. I disliked all forms of aggression, but the darkness's requirements were divergent. I had a strange need for killing, but the dummy just wasn't enough.
I hated the darkness for the effect it had on me. I could sense its corruption spreading through my mind, beyond the areas for motor control over my body. I put up a constant fight, to prevent it from spreading beyond what was already lost to me. I feared that what had already been corrupted was beyond repair, even if the darkness was to somehow leave.
I could see the Gogron gro-Bolmog hiding as Vicente left. I realised that he had been watching me during my entire training session. This was out-of-character for the Orc; he was usually incapable of subtlety. I presumed that he had an important reason for his behaviour.
Gogron did not bother to act as though he hadn't been watching me all of that time. He approached when he saw me looking at him. His armour rattled with every step he took, further proving his inelegance. He stared at me for a long moment before getting straight to the point.
"I am troubled, little sister," he began. "I have seen your type many times before, and never have they survived the first month." He paused as if to allow me time to respond, but I doubted he was actually expecting one.
I stared.
"I have watched each and every one of them train in combat, but none of them are as ill-prepared as you," he said.
I was glad that he was an Orc; only an Orsimer would tell me straight when he was about to kill me. I watched as he retrieved his steel battleaxe from its strap across his back. I was surprised when he turned away from me and started striking the dummy with his weapon. The metal striking worn wood had an almost musical ring to it.
"The problem is that you are putting too much power in the side-to-side motion rather than in the actual strength of the blow," he said between swings.
That didn't help me too much. I hadn't known that there was a difference between those two things, and I most certainly didn't know how to fix it. He continued swinging his axe with the technique resultant of years' worth of practise. I grow concerned about where this is leading.
"You don't pay enough attention to accuracy, and you don't have enough control over the weapon."
The Orc swung his axe wildly, exaggerating my technical issues. He managed to control the axe at the end of his swing, instead of it flying out of his hand as it had threatened to do. He lowered his axe and turned to face me.
"Perhaps you are unsuited for stabbing, and would instead be suited for slashing or smashing? It is unusual for a little elf to favour a blunt weapon, but not unheard of."
I stared, and raised an eyebrow.
"Why not try it out?" he suggested, offering me his axe.
I wanted to humour him on this, but I found myself unable to move. I couldn't sense any change in the darkness; it must have more hold over my mind than I had realised. It had learnt how to paralyse me without me even being aware. I couldn't even move my eyes.
"C'mon, there's no reason not to. Try out my axe," he said.
I was still frozen in place.
"What are you afraid of? Breaking it?" He guffawed loudly, and then took another step towards me.
I suddenly changed into an aggressive stance. I felt as my right hand swiftly reached down to my hip. I drew my ebony dagger from its sheath and pointed it in the general direction of Gogron's neck. All the while, I felt nothing from the darkness apart from its presence.
"Whoa! Easy, little sister, you could hurt someone with that," said a surprised but amused Gogron gro-Bolmog.
The door of the sanctuary opened behind me, and Gogron's expression changed to concern.
"What is this, Gogron, Nagaia?" asked a shocked Ocheeva. "I do hope the family is not fighting amongst itself."
She walked between us, and examined our frozen postures. She was wearing her shrouded armour, with her hood pulled back to reveal her green- and orange-scaled head. My stance was essentially defensive, but could be mistaken for aggression. The Orc was in an unusual pose; he was holding the battleaxe out in front of him, but had also assumed a simple combat stance.
"Sister… I was trying to teach my little sister Nagaia how to fight with an axe, and…"
"Isn't Vicente in charge Nagaia's education?" interrupted Ocheeva.
"Yes, sister," he said nervously. "It's just that…"
"You are protective of your sister, and wished to take her training into your own hands," said Ocheeva, completing his sentence for him. It was remarkable how well she knew the people of the sanctuary that she was mistress of.
"Yes, sister," said Gogron, bowing his head to her authority in the matter.
"Please continue, brother," said Ocheeva, pulling the dagger out of my hand and standing back. I felt a strange unease as her scaly fingers brushed against my hand, but I managed to loosen my grasp on the dagger. Gogron's eyes widened with surprise. He quickly regained his composure however, turned his gaze back towards me.
"C'mon, I'm not going to hurt you," he said as if he were reassuring a kitten. I had overheard a rumour about his childhood pet rabbit… "Come on little elf, I don't bite." Well, he's not the vampire of the family…
The Orc continued his kitten-talk that could have turned M'raaj-Dar into a purring lap-cat, whilst I fought against the darkness's invisible hold over me. I eventually managed to hold my hands out in front of me, palms upwards. He took this as an opportunity to place the handle of the battleaxe into my hands. He started to gradually lower the weapon towards my outstretched palms.
"…c'mon, just take the axe sweetie. I'm not going to hurt you, little sister. Just take the axe and give it a few swings…"
He lowered the axe into my hands. With one hand still firmly gripping the axe, he not-quite-delicately grabbed my fingers and wrapped them around the axe's handle. Gogron grinned in triumph, and looked at me once more with a reassuring smile. He released his grip on the handle, putting its full weight in my hands and stepping backwards.
The battleaxe started its descent towards the floor as I involuntarily let it slip from my grasp. I leapt out of the way just before it hit the floor with a clang. It bounced once, then landed on the edge of one of the blades, then rotated on that vertex, and then skidded across the floor with a metallic rasp. The room was silent for a long moment.
"Perhaps you should try some archery instead, sister," suggested Ocheeva.
"…my axe," said Gogron in a small voice, horrified. He picked up his axe, and protectively surrounded it with his massive, brutish arms.
"At least no-one was injured," said Ocheeva, her face not betraying any emotion.
"But… my axe," grumbled Gogron.
First Seed 7, 3E433
"Stay low, and move slowly," said Vicente.
I sank even lower into my uncomfortable crouch, almost falling backwards onto the floor. I took a nervous step forward and wobbled uncontrollably. I stabilised myself by gripping the floor with one of my hands. I waited for his response.
"Lean forward rather than backwards, widen your stance, and don't bend your knees so much."
That was easier said than done. I had never been good at any form of athletics. When in a crouch, I couldn't help but let my knees bend towards the Nirn; my muscles weren't strong enough. However I was able to move my feet wider apart into an uncomfortable position, but was amazed at how much easier it was not to fall over.
"Loosen your muscles, you're too tense."
I hadn't realised that I had been tense; it was difficult to remove tension if I wasn't consciously applying it. When the darkness gave me control over my body, perhaps I controlled my muscles too much so I became tense. I didn't like the idea, but loosening my hold on what I could currently control was a possible solution to this problem. I reluctantly released my rigid hold over my muscles and gave them instructions from afar; I was repulsed when the darkness took over and followed my instructions.
"Good," he said. "You managed to loosen up, but your technique is still lacking. We'll try this from a different approach. Start by crawling on your hands and knees."
I gave the darkness an opportunity to act without instruction from me, but it did not. After a moment I realised what I had done and I was shocked that I had allowed its dominance, even for the smallest moment. I was unfortunately getting used to the darkness's presence, but I still refused to give up resisting its will. I gave my muscles precise orders, rather than the vague instructions that I usually gave.
Usually when I gave precise directions my muscles would be far too rigid to actually move, but with my recent encounters with the darkness I had gained more understanding of the workings of my own mind. The connection between my conscious thoughts and the control over my body had been hidden from me until that section of my mind had been taken from me. Somehow my first meeting with Lucien Lachance, when he had presented me with the ebony dagger, had allowed me to sense the darkness as an entity within my mind rather than just the symptoms that compose a state of mind. Meeting Lucien Lachance had been both a curse and a blessing; it fuelled the darkness's hunger, but allowed me to see the darkness and its corruption.
I easily lowered myself down to a crawling position; my youth made my muscles and joints supple and flexible. My knees were uncomfortable on the cold stone floor, but luckily my simple brown pants provided padding against the rough surface. Vicente walked around me, scrutinising my pose.
"Now pull your knees off the floor and stand on the balls of your feet."
I did as he said, but it was difficult as I momentarily forgot to loosen my muscles. I pushed hard against the ground with my hands to stop my pose from collapsing. I had to right myself before he continued.
"Shift your weight to your feet rather than your hands."
This was more difficult, but I eventually achieved it. I shifted my weight slowly, maintaining my relaxed muscles. My arms were straight, and my hands were just lightly touching the ground.
"Lift your arms."
I lifted them ever so slightly.
"Lift them more. Your feet will keep you stable."
I nervously did as he said, and bent my arms at the elbow. My palms still faced the ground in case I began to fall.
"Now take a step forward."
I shifted my weight to my left foot and then slightly straightened my knees. This allowed for me to lift one foot off the ground, move it forward, and place it back on the ground so that is was slightly in front of the other. This was similar to how I had been sneak-walking before, but it was noticeably easier. After my right foot was firmly placed upon the ground, I shifted my weight to it and bent my knees again so that I was in a lower crouch.
At a nod from him I stepped forward with my left foot, and then my right foot again. For each step I straightened my knees slightly, and then after each step I sank back into the lower crouch. It is easier to maintain a crouch that is lower to the ground, but is difficult to walk with bent knees.
"Remember this stance so that it is easier next time," the vampire said.
First Seed 8, 3E433
"Nagaia," said a voice behind me as I stared at the rough stone wall.
After realising that she was referring to me, I turned my head and shifted my gaze towards Telaendril. I was slowly getting used to my new name, and was aided somewhat because this name was similar to my birth name. On some occasions my instinct was to correct the speaker with Neia or Neiriel, but on every one of those occasions my words were blocked by the darkness. With every passing hour, my hopes of ever speaking further dimmed; I was destined to be a mute murderer forever.
"Ocheeva asked me to practise archery with you, sister," she said.
She picked up an elven bow from somewhere in the room, and gestured for me to come with her. The Bosmer had a steel bow slung across her back, and I was puzzled why she didn't switch the two bows; the elven bow was a lot higher quality and would be more useful in contracts. I followed her out of the living quarters and through an old door into the main hall. We passed the creaking dark guardian and entered the training room.
"First I must apologise for using your bow without your permission on my last contract," she said. The Bosmer offered the elegant elven bow to me.
My… bow… I have a bow? I was puzzled; I couldn't remember ever owning a bow. I could remember seeing it slung across Telaendril's back when I had first met her, and I had automatically assumed that the bow was hers. How could I have a bow, and yet stab both of my murder victims with bladed weapons?
She looked at my hands as I accepted the bow. "You have such lovely hands, you must be good at archery," she said.
If I had known anything of this, I would have blushed from the flattery. Instead I was further bewildered. I'm an archer? The fellow Bosmer's expression changed, distracting me.
"Sorry, I forgot to give you arrows," she said. She handed me an arrow, and gestured towards the target. "Go ahead and shoot."
I faced the target, and held the bow in my left hand. With practised ease I nocked the arrow and pulled the string to the corner of my mouth with my right hand. I stood there for a long time, not bothering to consciously aim. As I tried release the string, the darkness paralysed me.
It was like what had happened with Gogron yesterday. I was completely frozen with no warning and no change in the darkness's presence. It was like hitting an invisible wall; I must have stepped outside the laws that the darkness had set for me, but I didn't know what I'd done to trigger this. As I stared at the target I could see Telaendril's increasingly alarmed face in my peripheral vision.
"Sister, aren't you going to shoot?" she said.
I heard someone else's footsteps approaching, but I hadn't heard the door open. Someone else was in the room as we had walked in, and I hadn't noticed. I silently cursed myself for letting my guard down; I must remain vigilant.
"She's frozen, isn't she?" asked Vicente Valtieri rhetorically, as if he had been waiting for this to happen.
"Yes, brother, what is wrong with her?" asked Telaendril.
"I think it's a symptom of her neurosis. Tell me, dear sister, how did she seem when you presented her with the bow?" asked the vampire in a casual tone. The tone of his voice bothered me; he spoke as though I didn't matter.
"She seemed confused. I thought that was because she hadn't realised that I had borrowed her bow. It seems silly now; I could have gotten away with it if I had kept my mouth shut."
"No, I don't believe that is the issue, dear sister," he said. "She's likely confused for another reason. Perhaps she didn't recognise the weapon."
"Why wouldn't she recognise it?" asked Telaendril, confused. "The bow is definitely hers. She has the hands of an archer. The bow also fits her grip perfectly, probably because it was made specifically for her."
"Perhaps she has lost her memories," said Vicente. "I don't believe she chose not to speak with us, or to become paralysed like this. She must have an ailment of the mind."
"What could have caused this?" asked Telaendril. "Has she always been like this?"
"There isn't a way for us to know for sure," said Vicente, "but I don't think she's always been like this. As you said, the bow was made for her. If she had always been unable to use this weapon, then why would someone make one for her, and why would she carry it around with her? As for what could have caused this, I do not know. Perhaps she had a traumatic experience sometime in her past. That doesn't explain her current predicament, however; she drew the string, but she cannot fire the arrow."
"What could have caused her to be in such a state?"
"I do not know, sister. The important thing right now is to get her out of this state without alarming her."
"She's still conscious?"
"Of course, sister, I'm quite sure that she can hear every single word we're saying," said the vampire.
What is it with this Breton? How much does he know? Does he know about the darkness?
"What do you mean by 'alarming her'?" asked Telaendril.
Vicente didn't answer, and instead removed my ebony dagger from its sheath. The darkness flared slightly, but took no action. I could hear Telaendril stiffen as she realised what 'alarm' meant. Though she would not admit she felt fear, her fear was justified; I feared for her safety too.
"What were you saying about her hands?" asked Vicente.
"What?" she asked, but then she remembered. "Oh, that. She has the hands of an experienced archer, but I haven't seen her use a bow or even look at a bow."
I could imagine Vicente nodding behind my back; I couldn't know for sure because he wasn't in my line of sight. "Nagaia, I'm just going to take this bow from you," he said slowly and calmly. "Relax, and gently loosen the string."
I realised that I had held the bow at full draw during the entire conversation. I hadn't noticed the pain in my arms and back for all of that time. I desperately wanted to escape the pain, but my limbs would not obey my will. It was torture.
Vicente walked around to face me, but did not stand in the way of the bow should it fire by accident. I was grateful; I did not want him to die by my hand, even if he was a killer and a vampire. He grasped each of my wrists with his cold hands and guided them to loosen the bowstring. Telaendril took the bow out of my hands at a nod from Vicente. The moment it left my hands I could move again, and I would have collapsed had the assassins not caught me.
My eyes were filled with tears as I was carried back to the living quarters. I watched the ceiling above me drift past. I was still conscious, but my muscles were so tired and sore from holding that bowstring for so long that I could barely move. I was gently placed on the bed, and continued to stare at the ceiling as I stared at the darkness within my mind.
First Seed 9, 3E433
Vicente led me to the training room yet again. It was my fourth day of being within the sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood, and my training sessions were already becoming repetitive. I hadn't made much progress in the combat department, but the vampire unfortunately wasn't capable of giving up hope. I was a hopeless case, and my life was merely a wait for the assassins to realise my uselessness.
As we entered the training room, Vicente stopped me from entering too far. He had a strange look in his reddish eyes, as if he were hiding something important. I looked at him questioningly, but he did not explain himself immediately. He touched me on the shoulder as his milky-red eyes met my green, and then pointed somewhere behind him.
"Just beyond there is a Redguard prisoner that we captured," he explained. "I want you to kill him."
The darkness immediately took over. I armed myself with my ebony dagger and strode over to where the vampire had pointed. The prisoner was blindfolded with wrists manacled to chains that dangled from the ceiling, forcing him to stand. I thrust the point of my dagger into his chest; my limited understanding of human anatomy told me that that was where his heart would be.
"Now a female Khajiit is in front of you," he said from somewhere behind me. "She is your next target; I want you to kill her by cutting her throat."
I was confused when the corpse of the Redguard was replaced by a living Khajiit. The darkness didn't seem bothered by this mystery, and immediately stabbed her in the chest. I could see her blood gushing out, smell its rusty aroma, and taste its flavour in the air. I had killed four now; my revulsion overtook my bewilderment.
"No," he scolded. "You were supposed to cut her throat. Your next target is a Dunmer named Lloden. Cut his throat."
The Khajiit woman and her spilled blood immediately disappeared and were replaced by a male Dunmer. I tried to stop the darkness from making the same mistake twice, but it ignored me. The blade again slipped between ribs and punctured a heart. I managed to glance down at the blade that I held in a reverse grip (blade pointing away from my thumb), and it was dripping with what looked like real blood.
"Your target is an Argonian thief. Cut his throat."
I watched the blood on the dagger vanish without a trace. I looked up into the fearful eyes of the unfortunate Argonian. This one wasn't blindfolded; he was forced to watch his own demise. I felt my hand guide the dagger to position, readying to stab this reptilian man in the chest.
You don't want to disappoint your precious vampire, I snarled at the darkness. There are more ways of killing than you are capable of on your own. You need me; let me lead.
The darkness seemed capable of listening to me when it wanted to. It froze for a moment before surrendering control over my body. It still kept a close eye on me, in case I abused my power. It didn't seem capable of giving me control of anything necessary for communication.
I stepped forward so that I was closer to the Argonian. My hand shook as clumsily held the blade towards his throat. I shuddered as I drew the blade through, and viscous blood spewed out to colour my hand. I watched his amber eyes as they became unseeing.
"Good, but next time use better technique. Your target is a young Imperial woman."
My hand became clean again as the Argonian disappeared and was replaced by a woman who was not much older than me. Without warning the darkness took over again. It did not attack immediately. I realised that it was waiting for something, possibly my instructions.
As if I would help you murder someone, I thought. Even though these weren't real people, the darkness thought they were real. The darkness tried to crush my will, but it stopped. It depended upon me for its own survival.
I was completely still for a long time, but Vicente gave no reaction. The darkness enveloped a few unrelated images from my memories, and it did so with great difficulty. I glanced at them and then realised that the darkness was trying to communicate with me. I scrutinised the images, trying to make sense of them.
There were three images in total; a wall, a river, and a grey horse. The wall was unbreakable, and the river was fast flowing. The grey horse was unstoppable as it rode across the bridge to the imperial city. I translated the images as 'You cannot break free; the only thing you can do is ride the current of the river.'
It was an imprecise, primitive form of communication, but the darkness spoke the truth. If I didn't help it, it would continue on without my help despite its limited methods of killing. If I helped it, it would be more likely to give me occasional freedom. I had no choice.
If I 'stepped back' and became an observer rather than being directly in control, I could observe my surroundings with greater detail. I gave the darkness simple instructions which it translated into actions. It followed my instructions with grace, strength and speed, slicing through the throat of the young woman with great precision. Without the bother of having to undertake my own instructions, I could concentrate better on processing what I observed; time seemed to pass slower because my mind was working faster.
"That definitely could be seen as improvement, sister, but how would you fare against a moving opponent. You must kill an escaped Orc. He is unarmed, but needs to be disabled before you kill him."
A male Orc replaced the corpse of the Imperial woman. He was unbound, and immediately tried to escape. I intercepted him, pointing the dagger in his direction. He curled his fingers in fists as if preparing to fight me.
Under my instructions and the darkness's direction, I struck the Orc in each knee with the hilt of the dagger. This was only possible because the Orc wasn't wearing any armour. He collapsed to the floor and held his arms out in front of himself, trying to block my attacks. I kicked him, forcing his arms out of the way and then landed the killing blow.
"Your next target is a high elf. She is heavily armoured, so you must find a way of bypassing her defence."
I used my agility to run behind her, searching for a weak point. I found none around her back, chest, or neck. Instead I stabbed her in the eye socket through the gaps in her helmet that allowed her to see. I extracted my dagger from her face and helmet with moderate difficulty.
"Now you must kill a Bosmer warrior. He is skilled with a longsword."
The training session continued for a while longer, but then it was over. Vicente approached me and cast dispel. The last corpse vanished, along with his pooling blood and the weapon I had used to kill him. I glanced at the vampire and spotted my ebony dagger in his hand; he must have taken it from its sheath when we entered the room.
"I cast an illusion spell on you," he explained. "Only you could see the people you that you thought you had killed."
He handed me the dagger, and I placed it back in its sheath. If he wasn't affected by the illusion spell, then he must be excellent at reading body language. I had known that the people had been an illusion, but I hadn't noticed that the dagger hadn't been real. The darkness had not been able to see through either illusion.
"You have definitely improved your technique during today's training session, but you still haven't reached perfection. I think that you are ready for your first contract. Come to my quarters tomorrow morning, and I will give it to you."
First Seed 10, 3E433
I awoke from a dream that was not pleasant; I was grateful for having awoken. The realistic nature of the training session the day before had had a damaging effect on my conscience, unconscious thoughts and self esteem. I had lost count of people that I had killed, even though all but two of them hadn't been alive. My dreams had been filled with blood, death, and that dreaded moment when their breathing ceased and their eyes glazed over.
I jumped to my feet quickly because of a delusion that if I did not act immediately, the darkness would take over control of my muscles. I changed my clothes to ones more suited to day activities and exited the living quarters. Most of the residents of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary were asleep between dawn and late morning, so I only crossed paths with the dark guardian and the Khajiit mage M'raaj-Dar on my way to Vicente's quarters. I paused outside the door to the vampire's private residence before I could procrastinate no longer, and entered.
I had gathered information from one-sided conversations with the others concerning the ranks of each of the residents of the sanctuary. I was an Initiate. After completing my first successful contract, I would become a Novice. Antoinetta Marie and Gogron gro-Bolmog were Apprentices. M'raaj-Dar, Teinaava, and Telaendril were Assassins. Ocheeva and Vicente Valtieri were the highest ranking residents of the sanctuary, both being Master Assassins.
"Ah, you have arrived," said the vampire. "Please be seated, sister."
I sat at the small, circular table across from him. On the table was a folded piece of parchment. The vampire pushed the note across the table so that it was directly in front of me. He looked at me with his milky red eyes as if preparing to begin a conversation.
"Written on that piece of parchment are the details of your contract. It is recommended that you memorise what is written, and leave the note behind. It would be unfortunate for the Brotherhood if you were killed during the process of completing the contract, and this information fell into the wrong hands.
"You will not need to leave the city to complete this contract; your mark currently resides within Cheydinhal. I have written further details on the note in front of you. You must complete this contract either today or tomorrow; any delay would make us appear… unprofessional."
I unfolded the note and hastily read through its message. The elegant script reminded me of… someone I couldn't quite remember.
Within these city walls lives an Orc woman who must die by your hand. Her name is Rogmesh gra-Coblug and her charge is the kitchens of the house named Riverview. You may complete this contract in any manner, so long as she is dead before the end of the eleventh day of First Seed.
A question: Do you think this should eventually turn into a romance of some kind? (My favoured pairing would obviously be Neia & Lucien, even though he's more than a decade older than her…)
Also, I changed the ranks a bit, because many of the ones used in the original game seem a bit silly. Kind of like if someone looked up "assassin" in a thesaurus. Actually, when I did look up "assassin" in a thesaurus, I found the words murderer, slayer, eliminator, and executioner. On the other hand, I like the ranks of Silencer, Speaker, and Listener. But instead of them being ranks, I think of them more as positions within the Dark Brotherhood. For example, Lucien Lachance is a Speaker, but he is also a Master Assassin.
