Lydia's heart dropped and filled with dread, even before the battle stopped for a moment to listen to the cries of an enraged were-creature. She gulped, the hand that held her sword shaking as she forgot about the battle. For the first time since Darkus had been taken, Lydia was terrified. Shaking herself of this newfound fear, Lydia sprang to her feet, impaling a nearby Mer soldier.
"Fight! Keep fighting!" she ordered as loud as she could muster, killing enemy after enemy as quickly as she could. If the beast was strong enough to make her feel as if in danger, it was something she would need to be able to concentrate on without distraction when it appeared. She hacked and slashed as quickly and powerfully as she possibly could after so many hours of relentless battle, her blows barely managing to get through the armor.
"Fight for Skyrim!" Ulfric could be heard, blasting enemies apart with shouts and cleaving them with mighty swings one after another. He was truly a powerful man, but even he wouldn't be able to fight the Dominion and a Werewolf at the same time.
Lydia felt her armor cave inwards from a piercing spear thrust. Thankfully, it didn't go through her armor, and she quickly rounded on her attacker with a swing that cut his head in half. She cursed herself for being so stupid; and continued her assault on the Elves that surrounded her. The frost that escaped her mouth made her want to remember just how cold she was, but she refused to give in, and kept herself fixated on killing her foes. She could see many soldiers shaking from the cold, meeting their swift ends as the result.
After nearly twenty minutes, the beast whose roars echoed across the field of battle finally reared it's head. Lydia was surprised by how short the wolf was, only a little bit taller than she herself stood. The beast was accompanied by a black-furred Khajiit, who let out a war cry alongside it as the two charged into the battle. A few minutes later, another Khajiit and a tall man wielding a greatsword also entered. Finally, Lydia sensed Vale's Magicka as the Undead Siege Mage lifted her hand to the sky, calling a great wave of fire that shook the very ground and burned the nearby pines.
Out of instinct, Lydia lifted her shield to cover her entire body as she dropped to one knee, bracing against the impact of such raw magical fury. Everyone, friend and foe, were blasted off their feet, save for the few warriors and Wizards who understood well enough what was happening. Lydia rose to her feet to see the field of Elves beyond reduced to a plain of ash, the only survivors being the ones deemed too close to friendly lines to kill.
The men and women of Skyrim stood tall and proud, glaring at the force of Elves still much larger than them who stood staring back. Without so much as a warning, Lydia, in tandem with the Werebeast, and whom Lydia could only assume were the Dark Brotherhood Children, charged back into the enemy's lines, swinging her weapon with a newfound spirit and strength. Her enemies fell to her every move, and soon she was joined by her brothers and sisters of Windhelm, their need to survive and win carrying them past their injuries, their need to protect what they loved keeping them alive.
Lydia couldn't help but smirk to herself as she brought a Dominion mer to his knees, and swung downwards. Her kill was stolen from her, a wave of invisible telekinetic force throwing her, and all of her allies, back to the ground. She looked over to see a Dominion Mage, dressed in black and golden hooded robes, silver and purple lacing his hands.
"Yield, Humans of Skyrim!" the Man, not elf, demanded, making it very clear he was not taking prisoners. Lydia could see who it was, the very same man who had posed as Aventus Aretino, the man who taunted Darkus.
'How had he grown so much more powerful?!' she asked herself, noticing how his skin was ash-colored, sunken in and wrinkled. 'Not more powerful; his power has just been fully unleashed!'
With a snap of his fingers, the four men to Lydia's left exploded. They were reduced to a mushy pile of blood and guts, just like that. Four lives, four spirits snuffed out in an instant. His malevolent glare met Lydia's eyes, causing her to lift her shield up out of instinct and practice. The magic slammed into her like a wave of the sea, forcing her legs to nearly buckle under the immense strength and power behind it. Her shield crumbled into dust, having been eroded and dissolved by the magic it protected her from.
"To Oblivion with you, Undead bastard!" Vale screamed, concentrating a small ball of fire into two fingertips on her right hand. The Vampire looked terrified at first, but then just smiled.
"You were here!" he cheered, molding a blast of Magicka in his hands. "I thought you had died long ago, Master!" without warning, the two Wizards unleashed their magicks, the mass of energies slamming into each other with such force that Lydia, standing twenty feet away, was sent flying off her feet.
"You disappoint me, Young Man." the Dark Elf told the human, twisting in strange patterns, firing a blast of lightning straight at the powerful Mage through the same two fingers as before. "I should not have spared you so long ago; a mistake I will correct now." the eyes of the Dunmer flashed blazing scarlet, as flames the color of blood encased her body and hands. The Mage before her was also engulfed by his magic, though he was eaten by Frost, and Water from wherever he could get it, and his body was extremely rigid.
"I'm not as weak as I was before, wretch," he announced, throwing a wave of magic at her, then suddenly disappearing from sight. Vale tanked the spell, spinning around instead to block the Wizard's next spell of Fire. "Taste my power!" still using only her two fingers, Vale stripped away the Mage's Magic, slamming her own Frost spell into his torso.
"I'm sorry, but this is for your own good." She stated, concentrating much of her Magicka into her index finger, which glowed with golden light. "Aurora!" the beam of light hit the dirt as the Vampire quickly maneuvered out of the way.
"Mortu Coeli!" the man grinned, calling forth a blast of Fire, Shock, and Frost, which slammed into Vale, and threw her into the air and across the field. Vale appeared completely enraged, her very stare causing the ground itself to set ablaze. She extended her arm, concentrated her magicka between her two palms, and shook with a large smile.
"She isn't holding back on this one?!" Lydia screamed within her own mind, terrified by the power that even an old swordsman without any magical ability or knowledge could feel. "Vale if you throw that much power into your attack, the whole field will be obliterated!" realizing that the old Nord was right, Vale pointed her hands to the sky at the last moment, and unleashed her full power. The clouds parted as her spell passed through them and exploded.
"Fool." the Vampire warned, running Vale through with his bare hand. The Elf coughed out her own blood, her eyes wide and her mouth agape, the aura of fire vanishing completely a moment later. Vale grabbed his arm with tears in her eyes, trying to speak, but failing. He ripped his hand from her body, leaving her with a gaping hole in her left side. She reached for him, spluttering and growling noises of anger and pain.
Riaz slashed the throat of the last few Aldmeri soldiers on the battlefield. He fell to his knees, tired, cold, and exhausted, as he watched the Wolf form of Vala tear apart the warm bodies of men and women to get at the hearts that dwelled within. He looked at his blood-soaked hands, and chuckled to himself, tears falling down his face as he clenched his fists. No matter how many times he did it, no matter who it was, he hated to kill. He hated every fiber of his being that found it easy, and hated that he had so recklessly run into battle to kill anything that moved alongside his friend.
His sounds had roused the attention of the wolf, who snarled and growled with her blood-soaked maw as she approached him. He gave her a smile, and reached up to touch her face, which she acceptingly leaned into without a sound. The wolf circled him once, sat, and then laid down with her head in his lap. She fell asleep after a few minutes.
Riaz looked around the battlefield, finding Caro and his sister embracing in the middle of the field. The Half-Argonian had saved her from a few arrows, it seemed, as his armor had broken shafts sticking out of it, and even from where he was, he could hear his sister sobbing. He soon realized that Caro was in fact, holding Zassa off of the ground, and the two walked over after he had set her down.
"One great fight…" Caro laughed, slumping down in the snowy, bloody, dirt next to Riaz. "I'd wager I was able to kill at least twenty." Riaz looked grim. He had lost track of how many he had taken apart in the battle, he presumed it was somewhere around thirty or so. Vala had killed almost double what he had, with nothing but pure rage and brutality.
"Riaz is still a little sore," the Khajiit told his best friend, shifting a small bit to move Vala's head, lest she become angry or frightened in her sleep, and snap at something. He found blood on Vala's back, and noticed that she had been cut by something. It was healing relatively quickly, but it would heal better if she were conscious. "However, Riaz will heal from his injuries. Vala will hold hers forever." Caro's eyes were back to their normal blue hue, making Riaz wonder if he had been imagining things.
"I-I suppose so…" he said his eyes carrying the heavy weight of sadness. Zassa was the same, holding the same look, the same thought. She wrapped an arm around her brother, and the Werewolf form of Vala, and sighed.
"This one is too young to have suffered such an atrocity," she said in a bitter and vengeful tone. "Zassa has had many contracts where the older men have gotten very hands-on, but like every other one, Zassa has killed them for such thoughts." Riaz gulped.
"Older Sister, Zassa has not ever been forced to do things like that by a man." he said in a small voice, unknowingly petting the mass of muscle that slept on his legs, who also seemed to be reverting back to her human form. "Where did Shrix end up?"
"She stayed behind, her leg was hurt pretty badly," Caro replied, the worry in his voice for his sibling evident in his even voice. "Our primary concern should be that massive amount of power." Riaz looked at him quizzically.
"What power?"
"That power, the power that's been rocking the ground we walk and bleed on!" he announced, standing up to try and look farther into the distance. "Come on, can't you feel it?!" Riaz shook his head.
"Riaz has no clue what this one speaks of; Riaz only feels the cold of Skyrim on his body." Riaz replied, watching his sister also stand with an odd expression. "Take a look if you need, Riaz will stay here and watch Vala." he pulled the torn up blanket he was using as a cloak from his back, and covered the half-transformed girl with it. Caro and Zassa nodded, heading towards the area of the field that the clouds were parting and swirling around.
Vala began to stir after a few minutes. To keep her from despair, Riaz cleaned her mouth from the blood that had settled on it as best as he could, though she was still bruised, cut and battered from what had happened hours before. Split lip, two black eyes, and many lashes from what Riaz knew from personal experience to be a whip of sorts. His hands shook with fury; one of his best friends was harmed and he couldn't do anything to help.
"Ugh, my… my everything hurts…" Vala's raspy voice weakly sounded off, waking Riaz from his apparent trance. She gave him a small grimace. "And I mean, everything…" Riaz shared her frown for a minute, and opened his mouth to speak but found himself at a loss for words. "Where are we? Where is everyone else?"
"The middle of the battlefield." Riaz answered bluntly. "Shrix was injured and stayed back, and Sister and Caro followed to the battle. Riaz believes Vale did also, but he hasn't seen her since he and Vala entered the battle." Vala looked at the blood-soaked ground. Riaz grabbed her and pulled her upwards into a hug, which she winced because of, but accepted nonetheless. He suddenly felt a jarring pain as the werewolf prodded and poked at the deep gashes she had made in his back during her transformation. His back jerked forwards causing Vala to be thrown about a foot into the air, but land back on top of him anyways.
"I'm sorry! What happened to your back?!" she quickly begged, trying to get better look at the wounds through the Khajiit's fur. He winced the more she tried to look, because she was constantly trying to clear his fur away, accidentally hitting his open wounds every once in awhile.
"Riaz carried Vala when she transformed, and well…" he began, jumping up onto his feet when Vala pulled the flesh apart to look deeper into his wound. "FUCK!" Vala fell on her ass in the snow, the blanket that covered her falling away, and revealing the actual amount of damage she had suffered. She quickly covered herself with the blanket, her usual pale skin red with embarrassment. "Sorry…"
"Don't be, it wasn't your fault," the girl responded in a hollow tone, shakily standing while holding the blanket tight to her. "We should move, find out what that strange power is." Riaz made a sound like an annoyed housecat.
"What power are Vala and the rest talking about?!" he asked, his back hunched over to try and lessen his pain. "First Caro, then Zassa, and now Vala! Riaz has no idea what anyone's talking about!" Vala's brow raised. "What?"
"How can you not feel that, Riaz?" she asked, beginning to walk in the direction Caro and Zassa had gone a small while ago, though she stumbled and nearly fell every few steps. Riaz wrapped her arm around his neck and supported her as the two walked at a slow pace to where the few soldiers still standing seemed to be paralyzed. "It has to be Vale, right? She's the only person we know that's powerful in magic."
"Riaz knows Vale is strong with magic, but Riaz can feel nothing." the Khajiit replied as the two came upon Caro and Zassa who were stood like statues in the field. "Caro, Sister, what is-?" as the two stood next to the second pair, Vala let out a small scream. Riaz looked straight ahead to an awful sight.
Vale was coughing blood, lying on the ground with her body contorted in painful looking shapes, and a hole in her abdomen. The man, or the creature that looked like a man, was the person that destroyed the inn, the one that tried to kill Shrix. His arm was coated in a thick layer of blood, and his face contorted into a mad grin. He was laughing.
"Perdere" Vale murmured, a blast of fire shooting from her fingertips and throwing the man backwards several feet. He looked over at her with shock marking his features as Vale slowly got back to her feet, holding her intestines and guts in her body, her magic the only thing healing her enough to keep her alive. Her eyes, bright scarlet and dead to light, stared directly into the Mage's eyes with an expression of raw fury. "Now you've done it. I gave you a chance, I let you live so you could better yourself, and now, after all this time…" she began, walking closer to him. "You've tried to kill me?! You've taken advantage of everything I've given you… you fucking piece of imp trash! Lux Arorae!" the blast of pure white light from her index finger slammed into the man's body, and for a moment nothing happened.
"Argh! Please!" The man screamed in agony, reaching his hand up. Vale kicked it down, and stomped on his hand hard enough to break his bones. A few minutes later he was foaming from his mouth, and his chest exploded, splattering blood everywhere. Vale subsequently fell to her knees and began violently coughing blood, Riaz and the others running to her side immediately.
"Fucker should've given up when he had the chance…" she said, the golden light in her hand finally sealing the wound completely and then dissipating. "Though I shouldn't have let my guard down. He was stronger than I would've thought, but he was still no match for me. Well, if I had not been injured, maybe."
"What do you mean?" Caro asked her, as Vale looked to a specific spot in the sky. As everyone looked where she had, a portal opened and the man walked back through it. He was thoroughly injured, but he was still in much better shape than Vale.
"You over-estimate your ability, Master!" he laughed, holding out his hand, a ball of light appearing upon his palm. He slowly floated downwards, throwing almost every person who stood around Vale away with a wave of kinetic force. Only Vale and Riaz remained within the circle the blast had created. The man walked forwards at a pace almost slow to Riaz's perception, a large smile upon his face, his hand unwavering. "Now, you-"
"Morietur." a deep voice growled from nowhere, stopping the man in his tracks. After a moment of the Vampire looking around, a hand covered in blackened smoke thrust through his chest, throwing the Mage onto the ground. The Mage coughed, and stood with a look of confusion.
"You-! You're here!" the Vampire barked with a mad grin, looking in every which direction. "Where? Where are you?! Where have you gone, you bastard?!" he was thrown to the side by a spectral being of Darkness, one unseen to the mortal eye. Though it didn't seem to have damaged him too terribly, the Mage would not be able to last forever. "Damn you!"
"What happened?" Riaz asked Vale, who was lying on the ground. The Vampire grabbed his shoulder and attempted to lift herself off of the ground, but failed almost immediately and fell back to the snow. Riaz leaned over to help, but instead of taking his hand, the Dunmer grabbed the top of his head, and forced it into her chest. "Really?" he asked her in his head, struggling to get her off.
"I'm unsure," she told him, holding him steady without effort. "It feels familiar, but it's much different… it's darker, more menacing…" Riaz rolled his eyes, finally wresting his maw free.
"Riaz cannot sense what you do." he explained to the woman who was now more or less balancing on his head. "This one saw the black hand, yes?" Vale shook her head, a confused expression gracing what he could see of her features. "A black hand extended outward from the man's chest, did Vale not see?"
"No, I didn't see it!" she barked in his ear, slapping the side of his head rather hard. The enemy kept throwing spells and punches in random directions, hitting nothing but the random soldiers that dared get close, and the sky and dirt. After a few more minutes of this, a blackened figure appeared, a dark aura, almost smoke appearing, circling and swirling around it. Save for the bright scarlet orb that pierced the lack of light.
"There you are!" the Vampire exclaimed, firing a wave of fire at the being. The shadow stepped through the flames unharmed, and pressed towards the Mage who fired blast after blast of powerful magicks at it. "Damn you, just die!" the Vampire moved as if imitating the form of a Martial Art, his hands spinning and concentrating Magicka into a powerful blast of Blood Magic. The Shadow held out its arm, catching the blast and deflecting it outwards.
"It is time to fall," the shadow spoke, staring into the eyes of the Vampire without an ounce of fear. The only things that the eye portrayed were rage and malice. The two mimicked each other's movements, getting closer and closer together. "Now die."
The two released blasts of magic almost too powerful to be real. The Vampire roared with fury as his own spell was pressed back by the shadow's, stripping the flesh from the man's bones without relent. The Shadow's spell burned dark blue, disappearing after bringing the man to his knees.
"How…" the man asked, unable to stand back up. He looked back at the shadow, who swiftly swung its arm in a horizontal motion, completely decapitating the Vampire. Before anyone could even see what happened, the shadow burned the body to nothing, leaving no trace that the man ever existed.
"You were nothing compared to us." the shadow answered long after the man was gone. The shadow turned to the crowd of surrounding people, man, mer, and beast alike. Without warning, the shadow attacked the Aldmeri Soldiers, slaughtering the lot of them before any of the Windhelm men had taken up arms again. Once the battle had died down, and every person who still lived had settled, the Shadow disappeared.
What, or rather, who, was left in its stead stood Darkus. He was beaten, scarred, bloodied, and held the look of a man underfed. Thick dried blood covered the entire left side of his face, as well as part of his arm. The odd angles within several points of his body suggested that he had some terribly broken bones. After he caught glimpse of Lydia, he fell to his knee.
"Darkus!" the Nord called, throwing her blade to the side and running over to catch the weakened teenager. She cleared his face and looked at him with tears in her eyes.
"Hey Lydia, it's been awhile, huh?" he asked, giving her a small grin.
Hours later, Darkus stood in his room, looking at his reflection in the mirror. The scar that stretched from his hairline, down just past his cheekbone. His eye remained shut, as he could not bring himself to open it for fear of not recognizing himself. He fitted the black leather patch over his eye tightly, got dressed, and walked down to the Main Hall.
Shrix was being held in the Windhelm dungeons for the murder of an Officer, one that many of the soldiers in the camp were unsure about. Darkus knew however, as soon as he saw her being dragged to the city by armed Stormcloaks, he knew something was not right. Vala was not her usual self, nor Riaz his own self. No one seemed to be themselves, and Darkus wanted to know why.
"Your eye, boy," Ulfric's voice boomed through the hall as Darkus knelt to the High King. Darkus gulped.
"Gone, my Lord," he lied, waiting for the King to speak further. "Apologies, but why has my comrade been arrested and placed in the dungeons, while your guards do Gods know what to her?" the High King stiffened at his question, as if offended the boy would even ask that. "She is a woman, and a Half-Argonian, after all." the children of the Dark Brotherhood, as well as Lydia, and the two heirs to Ulfric's throne gaped at Darkus, as if his words themselves had parted the King of his heart.
"How dare you accuse such things of my people? How dare you defend a murderer?" he asked, the hall shaking from his apparent fury. The King stood up and walked closer to Darkus and Lydia.
"How dare you imprison a woman for a crime she did not commit?" he retorted, standing to meet the High King. Darkus was no longer polite to Ulfric, the man who demanded respect without ever even uttering the word, and instead stood challenging him.
"That woman admitted to killing Captain Snow-Breth, and will be dealt with as such!" the King barked, commanding Darkus to stand down. Darkus would not; his pride too much to allow him.
"I saw what happened, she admitted to killing your man, but she never confessed to murder!" he bit back, forcing the old man to take a few steps. "When she begged to allow her version of the truth be told, you sent her away! Like you had the Argonians, Khajiit, and Elves nearly twenty years ago!" Ulfric's fury looked beyond rational thought, as the man swung at Darkus with an open fist, which the boy caught without flinching. "Maybe if you listened to people, misunderstandings wouldn't happen as they had. Vala," he turned to the shaken Nord.
"Yes?" she asked, not looking him in the eye.
"What forced Shrix to act upon herself and kill a Captain?" he asked her, already knowing the answer by how the girl tensed. "Surely a woman of her training and discipline would know better, yes?" Riaz and the rest nodded with her.
"Shrix became… enraged…" was all the poor girl spoke, in a tone so empty it nearly killed Darkus to hear it spoken. Vale, who had been able to recover extraordinarily well, stood up with a look of rage upon her features.
"Shrix killed your man because he dared lay a vile finger upon Vala!" she announced, her disgust laced within every word that coarsely escaped her lips. Ulfric did not like the tone the Vampire spoke in, but was obviously terrified of her because of how powerful she had shown herself capable of.
"I will pay a fine, however, she will face no jail time whatsoever." Darkus said, already scratching at the leather patch absent of mind. The King looked reluctant to do as the young man said, mostly because he was a boy, and the King was a King. "Name the price, and I'll pay it."
"No. No price is sufficient to replace a man such as Snow-Breth. The prisoner will have to fight in the Pit." he informed Darkus and the rest, the words chilling Darkus to the bone. "That is all I can do for her."
"Fight in the Pit, or rot in prison are her only options?" he asked the King, who, along with his wife, nodded. "Will you permit me to take her place?" Ulfric shook his head. "Then allow me to properly train her. Shrix can stand her ground in a one on one battle, but she will die where she's fighting."
"You ask permission to ensure the woman's victory?" Ulfric's wife inquired of him, standing up to move closer. Darkus nodded.
"I didn't keep her alive all this time just to let her die now," he told the woman. "Either I take her place, or you allow me to train her." he then took a step closer, before Caro or any of the others could give input and get in trouble as well. "Those are the only options." Ulfric, with a disdainful look, nodded. "Return her weapons to her at once, then."
"You push your luck, Darkus!" Lydia whispered, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.
"I'll need to train her with the proper weapons, and the blade bestowed upon me was in her possession," Darkus told Lydia, as well as Ulfric. "She will bring that blade into the Pit with her." Ulfric, with a grunt this time, again nodded.
"However, she must remain under lock and key in your quarters until after the day," Ulfric commanded. "She must be bound by rope, or in chains as the day ends. You may go retrieve her."
"Then I will leave at once." with that, the boy turned towards the Barracks and went down to the Prison, where several guards were standing at Shrix's cell, and many malnourished prisoners set their gaze.
"Hold, boy!" a woman in guard's armor ordered, placing her hand upon his chest. "What business have you down here?"
"The Thane comes for a prisoner, the woman in that cell." he replied in an even tone. The woman nodded, walking over to the group of men, and hitting the back of one's head to clear them of the way. She opened the door, and motioned for Darkus to enter.
"Why has my door been opened, guard?" Shrix's voice came from within. Darkus walked mostly into her view, hiding his face subconsciously. "By Sith- By the Gods!"
"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't come to see you sooner," he apologized as she sprang up from where she sat and hugged him tightly. He supposed she hadn't seen anyone except those men since her imprisonment. "Guard, her belongings. And a pair of shackles and their keys."
"My equipment? Shackles?" she questioned him, Darkus covering her mouth a moment later.
"I'm going to train you as much as I can before you're condemned to the Pit, like all these other prisoners." he told her, taking the steel cuffs from the woman, as well as their keys. "I've been ordered to keep you under lock and key the entire time." Shrix raised an eyebrow.
"You know I can escape these measly things, right?" she chuckled, receiving a blank expression from him. Her eyes widened as they fell upon the patch and scar, her mouth agape, at a loss of words.
"Yeah, I was hurt pretty badly on the boat. When the torturer swung at me with a blade, it cauterized the wound." he told her, motioning for her to follow him as he bound her arms together and had her carry her equipment. "My Lycanthropic healing was also slowed down a good deal, so the eye didn't heal as you obviously think it should have." he led her into the Hall, and stopped. "I'll explain more after you've gotten a chance to speak with your friends."
"Explain more?" she asked a moment after he had taken her stuff and walked to his room. When he returned a few minutes later, Shrix was sitting down in a chair talking with Vala in a teary voice. Darkus could hear that she was apologizing to the Nord, but Vala would have none of it. She was just glad Shrix was safe and alive. Shrix patted Riaz's back after she learned that he escorted Vala through the battlefield, the action of which caused him great pain as his wounds had only just healed.
"Careful Shrix!" Caro called, him and Vala attempting to get him off of the ground, while Vale and Zassa just watched with amusement. Riaz roared in pain, rolling around while Vala put her hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, and Caro attempted to find a way to pick him up without causing him further harm. "You watched a Werewolf tear into his skin, and you still slapped him on the back?!"
"Yeah, what the fuck?!" Riaz asked in a teary voice.
"It's been a week, excuse me for thinking he'd gone to see a healer!" Shrix barked at the two, crossing her arms with a furrowed brow. Caro and Riaz both had the same expression of disbelief on their faces.
"No!" they said in unison, Riaz finally lifting himself up.
"The Healer was too busy trying to help Lydia, myself, and Darkus when he appeared on the battlefield." Vale explained with a shrug, slapping Riaz on the back to watch him crumble back to the floor, cursing and growling. "For some reason, Darkus didn't heal enough on his own during the time he was in the Dominion's custody."
"As I mentioned before," Darkus interrupted. "There was a New moon, and another Full Moon. My bindings were enchanted to hold me, so when I transformed, I only injured myself more severely." the group was looking at his left eye, something that was already pissing him off. "Anyways, Shrix and I should really get started. She goes into the Pit at the end of the week; that's five days."
"About the Pit, what is it?" Shrix asked him, standing up to follow him should he decide to move. "I know I have to fight to the death to escape, but so what? I've done it before." Darkus shook his head.
"You're not going to be in a two on one fight, or something like that." he explained, using his fingers to represent his words. "It's going to be an all on all battle, all twenty prisoners against one another until one is left standing. You've been in hairy fights, five enemies I think was the worst though. These guys will see you as a weakling, and will prey on you because you're smaller than they are." she gave him an angry glare as the two began to walk. "It isn't because you're a woman, Shrix. It's because these men and women are literally double your size in muscle and height."
"Hey, I'm not that short!" she said, as he stopped two stairs below her, and still looked directly over her head without any effort.
"You're shorter than me by a head. These guys are bigger than I am by about half of our height difference." he told her, continuing to his room. He opened the door and let her in, taking the cuffs off of her. "Hurry up and get dressed, we start now." Shrix nodded, and got her armor on, drew Darkus' sword, and waited for him to do something similar. She looked surprised when he pulled a Wooden Practice sword off of a rack, and walked back to the courtyard in front of the palace.
"Why are we training out here?!" she asked, already shivering from the cold.
"Because; it's an open area. The Pit won't be as open, but it will be similar to this place." he said with a shrug. She was silent for several seconds, until the sword clanged against the ground.
"You just don't want to break anything, don't-"
"Yeah, I don't want to break anything." he interrupted, swinging the wooden weapon at her at a moderate speed. She deflected the strike, and slammed her empty hand into Darkus' chest. Darkus took the blow and kneed her abdomen. "Don't punch with your open hand. Hit with the weapon; it'll put more power into your strike, and you could potentially cut your enemy with the blade." Shrix nodded, however, repeated the same action the next time Darkus swung.
"Sorry, I'm just used to how my mother taught me to wield a dagger." she said, taking her stance again to prepare for Darkus' next swing. He shrugged, swinging hard, hitting her left arm hard enough to draw blood. "Fuck!"
"You aren't fighting with a dagger. You're fighting with a Longsword." he told her, throwing another fast strike, which she was unable to block. She staggered back, lost her balance, and fell on her ass. "When you hit in a swordfight, hit with the sword. An open hand gets broken."
"Noted." she grunted, getting back on her feet. Darkus swung again, and this time Shrix was able to deflect it. She threw her fist forwards, sword in hand, and Darkus sidestepped her attack.
"Good. Now chain it together." he complemented, hitting the back of her head with the wooden hilt lightly. "If someone does this, spin around to the right and swing the blade with all your strength." he did the motion to demonstrate for her exactly how to achieve the hit. "Do it too fast, and you miss your target; too slow and you die instead. You need to hit it perfectly."
"So, I'll die if I do anything but perfect?" she asked, an obviously irritated tone to her voice.
"No, there is a small window of time where you can swing without cause for too much concern." he explained, hitting her yet again with the wooden blade. "If you get hurt, it's nothing too serious. Death is something that cannot be reversed. Just fight through the pain." she looked at the ground.
"Before… The others said something about you 'keeping me alive all this time'," she started as the training went on, her grip tightening around the hilt of her weapon. She took a swing at him, which he blocked, rolled around, and swung to counter. She spun around like he'd told her, and blocked his strike. "What were they talking about?"
"I haven't the slightest," he replied with a smile, impressed by her automatic adaptation. "Though, I suppose I could tell you something important later tonight." he swung the his weapon to her back, which she didn't block, and she fell flat onto her face, the weapon escaping her grasp. "Drop your weapon and you're dead."
"Maybe don't just hit me at random moments!" she barked, getting on her elbows. "In the Pit, I'll be fighting at all times, but up here I'm training!" he grabbed her by the back of her collar and hauled her up, holding her just inches away.
"Take the two as separate things, and you are dead." he murmured, throwing her backwards, causing her to stumble a small bit and fall back down. She grabbed the sword and stood back up with an odd expression, one that made Darkus curious about what she was looking at in such a way. If he were a complete idiot, he would've assumed that she was staring at something behind him, but he knew that she was looking at him. "Let's keep going, unless of course, your arms are too sore." Shrix tried to swing at him, but he easily knocked the weapon from her hands. "Alright, too tired it is."
"Shut up, I'm fine!" she breathed, reaching over to grab the sword despite the painful shaking in her arms and legs. Darkus took her hands and locked them in the cuffs he was given, then began leading her back to the room. "I said I was fine!"
"I don't care what you say; if you can't move, if you can't even hold the sword, you are going to die," he stated, opening the door and letting her free after they were inside. He dropped everything he had in his hands, and took a fur blanket from the mattress. "You can have the bed, I'll stay on the floor."
"But aren't you still healing?" she asked when Darkus pulled his armor off, which made his still open wounds visible. He shrugged.
"It'll be done by tomorrow morning." he told her, laying down on top of the fur. "We'll train until the day before you go into the Pit. You'll get a chance to rest that way." she walked over to him, placing her hands on his back. This caused him to shudder and tense because of the pain it caused him. "Okay, okay, or you could not do that."
"Well then, sleep in the bed." she started, looking at each of the new individual wounds he had sustained. "Why haven't any of these healed? Some of them are as old as the night you were captured…" he looked back at her, only for a moment, but from how her fingers curled into fists he could tell she saw it. "You said you'd been 'keeping me alive all this time', what did you mean?"
"I told you before, I have no-"
"Bullshit," she interrupted, forcing her thumb into one of the larger cuts, causing him to jump straight up almost a foot into the air. "From what I know about you, you wouldn't say something like that for no reason!" Darkus gulped, but nodded.
"Okay, it… may have some merit…" he murmured, sitting down on his bed, Shrix sitting next to him. "I suppose I did heal you once or twice… or maybe four times…" she gave him a grateful, yet angered look. "Whenever you got badly hurt, I concentrated my Magicka to give you a small boost in strength, and to heal you. Of course, by doing this I sacrificed my own healing and strength. It's Alteration Magic, I think, part of my training from a few years back." Shrix looked completely confused. "I altered the reality of me being healed, and had your body heal instead. To put it simply; yes, I kept you alive."
"But why did you do it?" she inquired as he slowly fell back onto the soft blankets. "Why keep me alive when it caused you harm?" Darkus let out a small grunt as he tried to position himself more comfortably.
"It's not like I won't heal within a few moments of my injuries anyways. Besides, what would have been the point of saving your life in the first place if you were only gonna die a couple months later?" he replied, still trying to find a comfortable position on the bed. He then sat up, and grabbed her arm, pulling the sleeve of her shirt up past her shoulder.
"What the fuck?!"
"Be quiet, I'm not getting comfortable any time soon," he interrupted, tracing the dark scales that covered her deltoids and outside of her bicep and triceps, as well as a small line down to her wrist with his fingers. She glared at him with purple cheeks, as if he were some weird stranger. "Your skin is really smooth… you think I could maybe lay on top of your arm?" she pulled her arm from his grip.
"No! What are you, an idiot?!" she barked, slapping him across the face hard enough to turn his head to the side. She had gotten much stronger during the battle.
"I figured the Histskin you were inherently born with has to have some measure of external effect. Either way, the blankets and stuff get into my wounds, makes it really painful and uncomfortable." he told her as he massaged the red hand-print she had left on his cheek. "Your arm and scales are smooth and soft, I figured it would feel better to lay on than fur or hay."
"You're asking me to sleep with you!" she informed him as he covered his wounds with her arm, and fell back onto the bed again, this time pulling her with him.
"Yeah, I'm fully aware of what I asked you," he started, yawning as Shrix's smooth flesh was much better than the bed. He found, after a few moments, that Shrix was actually much colder than a normal human. "Hey… are you cold-blooded or something?"
"N-no, I just… don't retain a whole lot of body heat after the sun goes down. It's why my armor has a resist Frost Enchantment on each piece." she told him in a whispered tone, as she was only a few inches away from him.
"I could always pull a blanket over us, it would be warmer." he suggested with a shrug, doing what he said as he spoke. Shrix looked a little protestant at first, but eventually settled down from her vain battle.
"How did this happen?" he heard her groan, in an almost teary voice.
"Quit your complaining, you'd be surprised to find that I'm extremely warm compared to most people on Nirn." Darkus replied, in an annoyed voice. He eventually let out a small chuckle. "I haven't slept well for a long time; I've been awake for about two days this time… Wonder what it will feel like to wake up moderately rested for a change." with that, he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep slumber.
He stood alone in a dark room, only a small amount of light from what appeared to be a deck of a ship seemed to illuminate part of it. He looked around, at himself, finding that he was wearing only his pants and a pair of dark leather boots. He held no weapon, no paper, no gold, no items at all, in fact. His arms held familiar scars, both old and knew, as did his abdomen and chest. He knew it was him, but he felt off, as if he wasn't completely there. The gleam of a steel dagger caught his eye, which he could see was stabbed into a table. He walked over to it and drew it from its wooden sheath, and put it to his palm, drawing it painfully and slowly over his hand.
The wound bled without pause, leaving a large puddle on the table. His wound wouldn't close, his bleeding wouldn't cease. He looked around for several minutes, until he finally tore a piece of cloth from the silken tapestry that hung in the room. As soon as he had tied it around his hand to stop the bleeding, he could see better. The room looked old and uninhabited, the snow on the floor indicating that it was, in fact, cold where he stood.
"A strange place to you, I suppose." he heard a more rugged version of his voice echo from a darkened corner. He narrowed his eyes, and smelled the air, finding his senses were dulled terribly. "Don't bother." he could see the distinct amber glow from the shadows, as the man began to move.
"You're… me?" he asked the figure, who walked within arms reach of him. Though it was unmistakably his twin, this man was taller by a few inches. His muscles were larger, his body thicker, his hair longer, and his jaw was more square. "But how?" the man laughed, his tone gravely and wolfish. It felt familiar.
"You don't recognize me?" the man asked, showing him his toothy grin. "Of course you don't recognize me, you've never been here before." Darkus was taken aback by the man's immature tone, only for a moment. "Ah, there we go."
"You're the Wolf…" Darkus said, unable to stop himself. He grinned and nodded.
"Good, we aren't a complete idiot after all," the Wolf laughed, raising his hands in a sarcastic manner. Darkus didn't like the tone the Wolf spoke with, it didn't bode well at any other time in his life. Darkus groaned, and dropped to the floor.
"You're not-?"
"No! No! I swear!" the Wolf replied sincerely, before scratching his chin. "Though… I can still smell what's on the 'outside'... er, never mind… point is, I'm a healthy teenager, and-" Darkus threw a punch, and hit the Wolf hard in the jaw, knocking him on the floor.
"I swear to the Divines! If you mess with my body while Shrix is there, I will kill us both!" he barked, slamming his forehead against Wolf's. The Wolf nodded and made sure he was submissive to Darkus. "You didn't bring me here to challenge my rule of my body and mind, did you?"
"It WAS my original plan, yes, but I can see that it was not well thought out…" he replied in a murmur. "Anyways, we have a bit of a problem." Darkus groaned, sitting in a chair that had not existed behind him before.
"What kind of problem?" he inquired, resting his chin in his hand.
"Well, for starters, that Alteration Magic Whispering Fang shit you keep pulling is completely destroying our healing abilities." he replied, lifted upwards by another chair forming underneath him. "Our wounds will heal, but as it stands, nearly half of our power was transferred to her. Since she doesn't know how to use it, and since she's not a Werewolf, and since she's Argonian, she completely expunges it as soon as it's used!"
"I know, I actually planned for that." Darkus muttered, waiting for the nightmare to be over. "Wait, shouldn't you have been able to tell?"
"Well, normally yes, but because you keep transferring our power to her, my senses have dulled considerably." he replied, summoning a chunk of raw meat and looking at it as if it had insulted him. "Dammit, I wanted this cooked…" he tore into it like the starved dog he was, and finished it within a few minutes. "Anyways, what you're doing… it's not great for either of us."
"I know," Darkus sighed, standing up and going to the door. "What in Oblivion is this place? Where are we?" the Wolf shrugged. "What do you mean 'you don't know'?"
"I don't know, alright? Usually I'm in a deep forest, but I don't have a damn clue what this place is!" he exclaimed, his anger apparent in the amber glow that rolled through his eyes. "I'm kinda pissed off here, I wanna run through the bush!" he looked at the insignia on what looked to be the cabin's door, which was Hircine's mark, and his shoulders drooped. "This must be my cabin, then… I don't get to live in your world all the time, and I'm pretty much a prisoner in your soul, right? So what does the father of the Hunt do? He frees us by allowing us to live freely in our own world. Of course, it's only a small amount of the glorious Hunting Grounds of Hircine's realm. Anyways, I have a cabin to live in, though I never have gone to it…"
"Why not?" Darkus asked with a sigh.
"Why would I spend my time inside when I could just relax in the warm sand?"
"Fair enough." he decided, pulling on the door, and pinching himself to wake up. "So, can I go back now?" the Wolf gave him an odd look.
"Of course, talk to you whenever, Darkus." he replied, waving as Darkus' vision blackened. He opened his eye to find himself looking directly into Shrix's, who it seemed had gotten a lot closer to him through the night. He supposed, he was rather warm, and the room was rather cold. She immediately jumped backwards into the stone wall just behind his bed.
"'Morning," Darkus yawned as he got out of bed and put his gear back on for the next day of training. Shrix had covered herself with the blanket, as if she were wearing nothing, and covered her reddening face. Darkus didn't even have to look to know. He grumbled, and finished getting his armor and weapons before calling Shrix over to do the same, and so he could cuff her again for moving to the courtyard. He realized that it would be a long five days.