Muffled shouting reached her ears first, cutting through the black silence around her. She flinched, then groaned when she realized she was laying on something hard and rough. Had she fallen off of the tower? Her aching back and head told her it was entirely possible. Light bloomed behind her eyelids, making her flinch again. It took a little work to remember how to move her extremities, but she finally managed to get the stiff and heavy limbs under her, propping up on shaking arms as she struggled to open her eyes. Her voice sounded raw and scratchy to her ringing ears.
"What— what happened?" Her mouth was dry, stuffed with cotton that slowed her tongue and made her speech sluggish with thirst. She looked at the ground, and nearly cried when she recognized it as dirt and stone, not glowing lava rock and obsidian. Her fingers closed clumsily around a handful of earth as she stared, watching it sift lazily through her fingers. When she looked up, Savlian was running forward and shouting. She struggled to make out his words.
"You— ha! You did it! You closed the gate!" He clapped a gauntlet covered hand onto her shoulder, and her arms nearly collapsed under the sudden weight.
"What did I miss?" She shrugged off his arm and sat up, glancing around her again.
Her new, very spiky bow lay nearby, unbroken and still glowing faintly red in the afternoon light. Not far off lay a lump of black, shimmering fabric that was emanating a faint humming sound. The sigil stone, she remembered after a moment. She reached out her bloodstained fingers and tugged the bundle of cloth closer to her. The sigil stone rolled free of its wrappings and began sliding down the hill, and she grabbed hold of it without thinking. As her scratched up hand closed over the stone's surface, she sucked in a sharp breath. A heady pulse of something cool and refreshing washed over her, and suddenly she had her breath back. Her limbs steadied themselves, and she raised the stone up to eye level, tilting her head at it. It glowed faintly under her scrutiny, and she took another, steadying breath before rising to her feet. She swayed slightly, but when Savlian held out his hands to steady her, she waved him off.
"I'm fine." She stuffed the sigil stone into her pack, trading it for her water skin, then picked up her fallen bow. "What have I missed?" She asked again around mouthfuls of warm water. She wrinkled her nose slightly at it, but gulped it down all the same. The suffocating dryness in her mouth abated, and she was able to focus enough to make out individual faces among the remaining guards.
Savlian perked up. "Both of the men you sent back made it through okay. Ilend's resting in the healer's tent right now, and Menien's been refitted. We're ready to head inside when you are."
"You've not been inside yet?" When he shook his head, Sabine ran a hand over her face. "How long've I been gone?" She could feel the ache trying to settle into her bones as she looked up at the late afternoon sun. Hadn't it been earlier in the day when she'd entered the portal?
"Almost six hours."
"What?" Sabine exploded, shoving Savlian in the chest. "Two hours, I said! TWO! What in Oblivion have you been doing for the last four hours?!"
"I— we—"
"Those refugees could be dead! Martin too! And it'd be on your head!" She pushed him again, cutting off any further protestations.
Without another word, she turned on her heel, hair spinning out behind her, and shoved open the gate to the city, kicking the door aside for good measure. A pair of clannfear jumped when she stormed inside, but Sabine's arrows found them before they could reach her. Once she'd checked the courtyard to ensure it was clear, she turned back to the open gate and addressed the guards who had clustered around the closed oblivion gate, staring at her.
"You, you and you!" She pointed out three guards, who immediately jumped to attention. "Get started checking these buildings. If there are daedra, kill them. Refugees? Pull them out. Leave the dead for now, they're not going anywhere." She rounded on Savlian and two others next. "You three. You're coming with me. We're going to search the chapel and see if there are any survivors left. And you had better hope there are, Matius."
He at least had the good sense not to argue. Before she turned away, three heavily armored figures topped the rise and began walking toward them. Sabine squinted against the evening glare and stepped forward, waving to them. As the three men drew closer, she could see they were Imperial patrolmen, and she breathed a little easier.
The one in front addressed her with a casual salute. "We saw the smoke on the way past. What can we do to help?"
Savlian opened his mouth to speak, but Sabine cut him off. "There are a group of refugees still holed up in the chapel, or they were earlier today. Our top priority is to get out anyone who's left and see them safely to the camp down the hill, then search the remaining buildings for others. Daedra attacked the city sometime in the night, and there are still a few stragglers hanging about. If you find anything that's not human, kill it."
"Yes ma'am." He nodded and drew his sword, gesturing for her to lead the way. The other two equipped their bows and fell in line with the rest of the guards as they made their way to the chapel.
They encountered one or two more daedra on the way there, but the seven of them had no trouble. When Sabine and Savlian opened the doors to the chapel, they were greeted first with the tip of a sword.
"Hold there! — Captain?" A redguard woman in guard armor stood on the other end of the blade, which she sheathed. "Stendarr's mercy, it's good to see you, sir."
Two more guards stood nearby, looking just as haggard as Sabine felt. One of them nodded in greeting to her as the group filed in, and Sabine took a look around the chapel. Though the top of the chapel had been knocked off, the interior was mostly clear of rubble. Several bedrolls had been set up in the back, near the altar to the Nine and a small cache of dwindled supplies. A handful of refugees milled about near the altar, huddled together and trembling, or simply sitting and staring into space. One man alone seemed to be mostly himself, watching the others with deep sorrow in his gaze. Before Sabine could approach, however, the redguard woman addressed her directly, pulling her attention back to the conversation at hand.
"You closed the gate?" She was asking, her eyes wide. When Sabine nodded, she grinned. "That's fantastic! That means the way is clear to the refugee camp, right?"
"Yes." Sabine forced herself to focus, pushing thoughts of Martin away until the immediate danger had passed. "The refugees and two or three guards should make their way down to the camp. With the bulk of the fighting force inside the city, someone will need to protect the other survivors until we return. If the Imperial patrols have noticed the smoke, highwaymen won't be far behind. We can't leave them defenseless."
The woman nodded. "Berich can stay here to help the Captain find the Count. He has the key to the castle gate and can get them inside. Anton and I will take the survivors down to the camp."
Menien Goneld stepped forward, shifting slightly in his armor. "I'll go with them. You're right about the highwaymen, but three well-armed guards should be enough to hold them off for a while. Having a presence should buy us enough time for the rest of you to get back."
Savlian spoke up next. "That settles it, then." He looked back at Sabine. "I hate to ask you this, friend, but perhaps once you see the refugees out you could give us a hand? We don't know what we'll be facing when we enter the castle."
Sabine studied him for a moment as three figures began shepherding the refugees and their meager supplies out of the chapel. Finally, she sighed. "I really should look for Martin…"
She glanced around the now almost empty room. There were not bodies piled around, so she had to hope that he was one of the shivering survivors that had been herded out. Finally, she looked back at Savlian.
"Let me see if I can find him, and I'll come back as soon as I can."
Savlian nodded. "I'll take the men around and finish clearing out the courtyard. We'll meet you at the castle gate."
The redguard woman hesitated at the door. "Did you say Martin? Are you looking for the priest?"
"Yes, that's right." Sabine almost held her breath, relaxing only when the woman smiled.
"He's alive, if a little dazed. I saw him head out with the others just now."
Sabine's shoulders slumped in relief. She hadn't been too late. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then adjusted the quiver on her back. "Right, then. I'll follow you, Captain. Let's go find the Count while we've got the extra manpower."
They stood together in the Count's quarters, a trail of blood and dismembered daedra tracing their steps all the way back to the castle entrance. The Count stared unseeing up at them, his richly embroidered clothes saturated with blood as Savlian knelt before the body in defeat. Sabine stowed her bow and took a step back to give the Captain more room, choosing instead to wait by the door while he paid his final visit to the lord he had served.
"Failed… I've… I've failed him… "
His voice was soft, and for a moment Sabine wasn't standing in Kvatch's ruined castle, but in the sewers, looking at the Blade Baurus as he knelt before the Emperor's body. She shook her head to banish the image as Savlian continued mumbling.
"Just can't do this anymore… lost too many… I'm done." He rose slowly to his feet and removed his cuirass, holding it out to Sabine. His tunic was disheveled and torn, but his face was determined. "Here. Take it. Sell it. I don't care. But I'm through killing. I've had enough killing to last me a lifetime. I never want to wear this again."
Before Sabine could reply, he dropped the cuirass into her hands and walked away, leaving her staring after him with a frown. 'Some good that vow will do him if the survivors are attacked.' She thought sourly. 'Will he stand aside and be cut down in order to avoid violence, or will he raise his blade to defend his neighbors?'
She scoffed and folded the cloth-wrapped chainmail as best she could, tucking it under her arm. None of that mattered now. She'd kept her promise to find the count. Now she had to return to Martin. He'd waited far too long already. On her way out the door, another guard stopped her to hand her a shield. It was iron with a wooden face that was painted red, and someone had stencilled a wolf's head onto the front, the symbol of Kvatch.
"You were an honest to gods hero today, ma'am," he said solemnly, and she frowned at him. He grinned widely. "Everybody from here to the Imperial City oughta know what you've done by the week's end, ma'am. You closed that portal and saved us all. Thank you."
She only shook her head and readjusted her hold on the shield, unsure how to respond. It seemed to satisfy the man and his friends, however, and they each clapped her on the back in turn before holding the door open for her. Thoroughly unnerved by their attitudes now, Sabine hurried off back to the refugee camp and, more importantly, out of the city.
Down at the mismatched collection of tents, the old woman from before once more took Sabine's hand.
"You closed the gate." Her voice was almost reverent, and Sabine cringed to hear it. "You saved my Menien from Oblivion itself. Oh thank you, stranger."
"Menien?" Sabine stilled. "Menien Goneld? He's your husband?"
"Yes, and Savlian and I had surely given him up for lost." The woman was in tears as she suffocated Sabine in a tight hug. "Words cannot describe the joy you have given me, child. Thank you."
Sabine carefully and awkwardly extricated herself from the woman's enthusiasm, ducking her head as she wove between the refugees she'd seen on her way up. Were they all going to be like this? As she neared the area where the newer survivors were gathered, a gentle hand landed on her arm, and a low, soft voice spoke to her.
"Wait a moment, please."
Sabine stopped walking and took a deep breath, preparing herself for more awkward conversation. When she turned around, however, she frowned. This was not a man she'd seen before. He was young, with shoulder length brown hair, and seemed almost hesitant to seek her out, but there was a determination in his eyes that was quite different from the other refugees around them. He paused for a moment, his robes rustling slightly as he shifted on his feet, then he spoke again.
"You destroyed the Oblivion Gate, they say. You gave them hope." His head tilted slightly as he studied her. His voice had a deep, smooth quality, though it was somewhat hoarse from the smoke. It had the distinct comforting air of a man used to addressing the weary and downtrodden. "You helped them drive the daedra back. Is that true?"
Sabine nodded slowly. "I did what had to be done."
The man exhaled quietly, giving an expression that was not quite a smile. "Not many would go so far as you have, and for people you do not know." He frowned slightly, his eyes fixing on her face again. "Who are you?"
"My name is Sabine." She shifted her pack a little, making it more comfortable on her back. "I truly only came to find Martin, one of the priests here. I didn't know the city had been attacked until after I arrived."
"Do you need a priest?" His face grew a little wary, though the exhaustion was bone deep. "I don't think I'll be much help to you. I prayed to Akatosh all through that terrible night, but no help came, only more daedra." He reached up to push his hair away from his face, then shook his head. "But I am Martin, if that is who you seek. What do you need of me?"
Now it was Sabine's turn to frown, as she looked him over again. Plain robes, nondescript shoes, hands soft from a life spent in contemplation and study. Not at all what she had expected, as far as emperors and heirs were concerned. Though his face was indeed similar to the old man's who had haunted her the last few nights. His eyes in particular, immediately reminded her of Uriel and his dying plea for her aid. When Martin shifted under her gaze, his hands twisting the ends of the belt around his robes awkwardly, she realized she was staring.
She cleared her throat. "Well," she feigned a more cheerful disposition, suffering through a small smile on his behalf. "You're not quite what I expected, I must admit." She shifted her pack around and stowed the cuirass away inside it as she spoke. "I was actually sent to retrieve you. A Brother Jauffre, in Chorrol." She strapped the shield to the back of her bag, then slung it back over her shoulder, completely covering her back with the face of the shield. "He's been hoping to speak with you about your family. There… well, there's quite a lot going on right now that you should be made aware of."
"My family?"
"Yes. Your father, specifically." She paused to give him a softer, more genuine smile this time. "You look quite a bit like him, in fact. I'm surprised no one's mentioned it to you before, really. You have the same eyes as he did. Strong-willed, but too all-seeing. It always looks like you know a little more than you should."
"You… you knew my father?" He leaned back a little. "No, you… you must have the wrong man. My father was a farmer. Why would you know him?"
She shook her head slowly. "The man who raised you was a farmer. Your father was someone else entirely." She sighed quietly. "But truly, this isn't the best place to speak of such matters."
He glanced around them at the other refugees, then back at her. "Where would you have me go?"
"FIrst? To Skingrad for a warm bed and a relatively safe place to rest." She bit back a yawn as though to emphasize her point. "From there, I should bring you to Weynon Priory. I'll explain whatever I can on the way, but please, Martin," she turned her large grey eyes on him again, "it's not safe here for you."
She watched with baited breath as he thought it over, then relaxed when he sighed.
"Very well," he said at last. "You have saved these people, and me from the daedra. I will trust you in this. Lead on, friend."
As they turned to leave the remains of Kvatch, the setting sun was low on the horizon, bathing the landscape in a fiery copper and gold that reminded Sabine all too well of flaming portals and burning daedra. She could only hope that Jauffre already had a plan in place for when Martin arrived. She wasn't too keen on entering another door to Oblivion just yet.
A/N: Whew! Another 3,000 words and another chapter down! And Martin is finally here! Now all we have to do is make it back to Weynon Priory (after a night's rest in Skingrad and a fresh pack of supplies, no doubt). Now that Martin's officially in the cast, things are about to get a lot more interesting.
And holy crap! Over 240 views! Thanks again for reading this story, I hope you're all enjoying it!