Grand Larceny
Amelie and Jean returned the next day around noon. Jean's arm was patched up in a sling; Amelie was walking on a bloodied leg with a slight limp aided by her staff. Otherwise, the pair looked none the worse for wear.
"Glad to see you all held up," Jean said indifferently.
"We're glad you're still alive," Jauffre said. "I fear this is only the beginning."
"I get that feeling, too," Jean said. "The sooner we're done with this, the better."
"I agree," Amelie said, expression grim. "But... let us bury her first."
Amelie rendered the need for spades and shovels useless, instead using her staff to quickly clear out a patch of land for their sister. Jean shakily laid Anna Marie down with his uninjured arm. As Amelie replaced the earth and snow around Anna Marie, tears ran down her cheeks. Jean hugged her tightly to him, face set. He rested his chin atop her head, staring at the grave as she buried her face in his shoulder.
Jauffre and Baurus stopped before the grave and laid down Anna Marie's shield and sword, the same ones Jauffre had given her when she became a Blade.
"She will be missed," Jauffre said consolingly. "By all of Cyrodiil."
"She was... she was a great fighter," Baurus added. "Went down that way, it looks like. Fighting till the end."
Amelie nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath. "She lived and died by the sword and shield."
Martin said nothing, hanging back from the emotional proceedings. The last thing he wanted to do was intrude or make them feel that their loss was unimportant. Instead, he returned to his work on the Mysterium Xarxes, racing to prevent another death.
Jean and Amelie spent the rest of the day resting in their room. Martin did not see either of them again until the next evening, when the pair was sitting together over a shared bit of bread. They were speaking quietly with each other, expressions still grim and joyless.
"Evening," Amelie said, nodding to Martin. He sat down at his increasingly crowded table. The Sanguine Rose took up quite a bit of room, setting all of his books off at odd angles.
"Evening." He looked them over. They still looked exhausted, and were still recovering. Jean's bow arm still rested in its sling, and Amelie still avoided using her leg and favored using her staff as a walking stick. "How are you?"
They did not answer. Amelie stared at the grain of the wood on the table, Jean cleared his throat.
"Any progress?" he asked, looking to the Mysterium Xarxes.
"Very little," Martin admitted, instinctively moving to slide it out of view before realizing that Anna Marie was no longer around to pry. "But it's coming."
Jean nodded to the Sanguine Rose. "So what is that thing?"
Martin swallowed. "The Sanguine Rose," he said. "An artifact of the Daedric prince, Sanguine."
"What's it do?" Jean asked.
"It... summons daedra," he said simply, not wanting to elaborate any more than he had to.
Amelie immediately looked up, alarmed. "That's not what you intend to use it for, is it?" she asked.
"No! No," he assured her. "No, its days of summoning will end with the ritual, at least for a few centuries."
"Good," she said, returning her gaze to the table.
Jean, however, frowned. "You said you'd seen it before?"
Martin hesitated before speaking. His past was not something he enjoyed discussing. "Yes," he admitted. "When I was younger."
Jean raised an eyebrow as Amelie looked back up at him.
"The Mages Guild absolutely does not sanction Daedric magic," Amelie pointed out suspiciously.
He was caught. Martin rubbed the back of his neck, searching for words. "I, we were impatient," he said. "The other apprentices and I... The Mages Guild is restrictive—"
"For a reason," Amelie pointed out.
Martin took a deep breath, his fingers edgily tapping against the pile of books on his table. "We wanted only to know more," he rationalized. "We were young, we were impatient and on top of the world, we thought ourselves invincible to everything. The riddles of Daedric magic, forbidden by the guild, how could we resist?"
"People die by Daedric magic!" Amelie said seriously.
"Do you think I don't know that, now?" Martin snapped. Amelie flinched, and shrunk away from him.
Martin sighed deeply. This was not where he had hoped greeting them would lead. "Knowledge and power were our gods, and we got in over our heads. I suppose you can guess the rest."
They fell silent.
"I can assure you, no one wants to see the Rose gone from Nirn more than I do," Martin said, in a last-ditch effort to save the conversation.
Jean scoffed, staring at the Rose. "Wanna bet?"
In the earliest hours of the morning, Jean was leaning back in a chair, his feet up on the table, shooting at the ceiling of the Great Hall again. His arm was slightly weaker, but his aim was still true.
Martin carried his work back out of his room, intending to set up at his usual table and perhaps avoid them. The siblings had not spoken with him in a few days, and he got the feeling that they were going out of their way to avoid him. Martin wondered if his familiarity with the Rose was giving them second thoughts.
"Jean," he said nervously.
"What?" Jean's face was stony and set, shooting arrow after arrow into the rafters.
Martin paused. "How are you?"
"Great."
Silence.
"Where is Amelie?" Martin asked.
"In our room," Jean said, burying an arrow in a supporting beam. "Working."
"Still?"
"Always."
Martin paused, thoughtful. "Will she be all right?"
"Fine."
Martin breathed deeply, trying to think of what he could say. "Anna Marie spoke fondly of you and your family," he said.
"She shouldn't have." Jean remained impassive, loosing another arrow.
"Why?" Martin asked, frowning. "She said you would remember the most, but..."
"Nothing good there. Dark and gloomy." Jean paused in his shooting, casting a half-glance in his direction, his expression disdainful. "You don't need to know anything else about our past."
Wondering whether or not he should swear off conversation completely, Martin sat back down at his table. Jean peered at the sheaf of notes Martin was carrying with the Mysterium Xarxes.
"I see you've kept busy, too," he said, taking his feet off the table.
"I have."
"More progress?"
"Yes. If you feel up to it—"
"Please," Jean said. "Give me something to do. I hate just sitting around."
"Are you sure you—"
"I'm fine," Jean insisted. "Just tell me what to do."
Martin watched him carefully for a moment before opening the Mysterium Xarxes. "The next item we will need to open a portal to Camoran's Paradise is the blood of a Divine."
"I suppose you already have an idea how in Oblivion I'm supposed to get that?" Jean asked. Undeterred by Jean's contemptible mood, Martin continued.
"The armor of Tiber Septim is still housed in Sancre Tor. I believe that his armor should have some blood in it. It does not need to be a lot—the barest scraping will do."
"I'll leave that to you," Jean said, getting up. "Armor of Tiber Septim, coming up."
He set out without so much as a torch.
Jean was diligent about sending messengers back to them, though Martin thought this was more for Amelie's sake than anyone else's. The first message came from the Imperial City, in which Jean professed his foolishness at taking the wrong direction and running straight into an Oblivion Gate. He promised to set out for Chorrol in the morning, and also outlined what appeared to be a rogue attack from the Mythic Dawn.
"Is that from Jean?"
Amelie had emerged from her room at last, her limp fully healed.
"Yes. He's arrived in the Imperial City," Jauffre said, showing her the letter. "It's rather troubling, though."
"A Dunmer and a Breton suddenly summoned Mythic Dawn armor and attacked me in the streets, I was lucky a guard was passing by," Amelie read aloud. "Can you believe it? Hope there are none incognito in Bruma."
Amelie folded up the letter, anxiety and worry etched into her face. "I certainly hope not as well," she said, laying the letter back down on the table.
Two days later, another letter arrived from Jean. He was in Chorrol, and preparing to set out for what appeared to be a second expedition to Sancre Tor.
"Getting really tired of these sleeper agents. Breton gentleman attacked me in broad daylight while I was looking for the weapons shop. Had to kill him myself, hope no one thought I was in the wrong. Counted two more Oblivion Gates on my way here, closed one of them. Saw Modryn Oreyn today, told him about Anna Marie. Going to Sancre Tor again tomorrow, provided I don't get killed."
Amelie folded up the letter, discomfort etched in the crease between her furrowed brows. "I am worried about these sleeper agents Jean keeps encountering," she said. "I can scarcely believe that those are the only ones."
"I agree," Jauffre said. "Perhaps they were displaced when you raided the shrine, Amelie Rose."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps they have orders," Amelie said. "It's difficult to say."
Nearly four days later, another message arrived from the Imperial City.
"Three more Oblivion Gates in the middle of nowhere. Killed the daedra, but left them alone because I am very weighed down. Got the armor, it is very heavy, please enchant to be lighter. Tell Martin it has plenty of blood for him. Was attacked again by two Mythic Dawn assassins in the city. This is edging insane, Amelie Rose. Let Jauffre know I will search Bruma for more agents when I arrive.
"Postscript: Talkative little Bosmer was asking around town about Anna Marie. Was not sure what to say."
While Martin was relieved that the armor would suffice for the ritual, Jauffre appeared unsettled.
"All these attacks are worrying," Jauffre said. "If Jean has been attacked so many times outside of Bruma, I cannot imagine what he will find in Bruma."
"Defending Bruma is definitely becoming more of a concern," Amelie agreed. "With Oblivion Gates popping up left and right, it is only a matter of time before another one opens nearby."
"The daedra from Oblivion are innumerable, but the Bruma guards are not," Jauffre said. Amelie nodded solemnly.
"What are you thinking?" Martin asked.
"We need aid. Bruma is capable of holding its own, but I fear what will happen should they go in alone. I hate to ask this of you, Amelie," Jauffre said, turning to her. "But we need reinforcement troops. Will you ask the rulers of the other cities for help?"
Amelie nodded, pensive. "If I have been hearing the Bruma guards patrolling the city correctly, the other cities' resources have been spread thin due to the Oblivion crisis."
"I do not doubt that. But the Empire will stand or fall with Bruma," Jauffre said. "As the Archmage, I am sure you can convince them somehow. Perhaps you can request aid from the guilds as well? We must buy time until Martin can complete this ritual."
"I understand. And I agree, I will go," Amelie said.
"Excellent."
Martin caught Amelie before she left that evening for Bruma.
"Amelie, please don't go," Martin implored her.
"Why not?" Amelie asked.
"I worry for you on these dangerous expeditions," Martin said. "You know this."
"I do know this," Amelie said. "I also know that remaining here will do us no good, we've been over this. The Oblivion Gates surrounding the cities must be shut."
Martin paled. "You intend to close all the Gates?"
"Perhaps not all of them," Amelie said. "But enough of them so that the cities will send relief troops to Bruma. I am rather amazed that no one has done anything about the Gates yet..." She fell into thought again, her gaze wandering away. Martin stood before in silence for a moment, wondering if she would come back on her own. She did not.
"Amelie!" Martin said finally, snapping her out of it.
"Mm?"
"Please... at least stay until Jean returns," Martin said. "Please. Set my mind at ease."
Amelie paused.
"Oh... very well," she said at last. "If I must. But only until then."