A/N: Commence flashback overload! I'm warning you now, the timeline is all over the place so read carefully or you'll get confused!
greentower: Thanks!
maskedpainter: Some more Farwil will come after the flashbacks, don't you worry!
Leah's Other Side: I'm glad you think that way.
Lily Ariel Black: Don't you worry. I've got loads more to fit in before this story's through.
BloodAndDiamonds: We didn't get fast-passes and I very soon regretted it! The queues! I would have braved Oblivion but my brother said he'd had enough and going on that on my own is just too much to ask!
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Broken Daggers
Chapter 20: A Silent Child
The wind buffeted the mountainside, tossing loose stones and biting through Burd's thick fur coat. He did not move, though. He never failed his friends and this was no exception. So, he stayed sitting upon the rock against the elements. The mountains loomed on each side of the wide path, enclosing it for miles. It was a devilishly hard path to find and even harder to navigate with its many twists and turns.
His horse tossed his head unhappily as stones whacked its knees. Absently, he stroked its nose to try and calm him and wondered how long Polixones would be yet. Just as he thought about standing up and walking around to make sure his legs didn't freeze, he heard something. The sound of a carriage echoing off the sides of the rock in the distance.
Leaping off the rock, he stared into the gully before him. The clattering of the wheels upset the stones further, making them rattle on the ground in distress. Small brown creatures that Burd paid no attention to fled at the noise. It was perhaps five minutes before the caravan came hurtling into view around the corner. Burd hurried forward to meet it, knowing by sight of the horse pulling it that Polixones had come.
In the driver's seat was a hooded figure, who leapt down upon seeing Burd, letting the horse stop by itself. Polixones Harla hurried to towards him and clasped his hand,
"Thank you so much for coming, Burd." Under his hood, Burd thought he looked paler than he remembered and the stubble on his chin was darker, "I have so little time left and this must be done in total secret."
"Of course." Burd reluctantly dropped his voice at his friend's strained 'shh', "What's going on? Has something happened?"
"The Morag Tong. They have killed all my family. I managed to escape along with my treasures and have been fleeing from them for two years."
This news struck Burd dumb. He could barely believe it. His wife, formerly named Dralosa and renamed Desdamona upon her marriage, his children, Martius and Ophelia, dead? He had rarely seen them but the memories of them sharpened at the terrible news,
"Why?" Polixones gave no answer but instead led him around the caravan through the flap at the back. Once inside, Burd gasped. Polixones had been a treasure hunter by trade and was a natural hoarder. Burd never knew that he'd accumulated this much, though. Swords, shields, boxes of jewellery and rich clothes, enchanted and unenchanted alike, trinkets, portraits, books, cases of gems, jewel-encrusted bottles of potions and, to cap it all, his prized stuffed spider daedra,
"My treasures, Burd. All of which, I leave to you."
"Wh-what?" It took him about five seconds to take this in and he still didn't believe it, "Polixones, you're not going to-"
A sad sort of smile appeared on the Dunmer's lips, "I can run no more, Burd. This is no life for me. I may enjoy wandering but not being chased. Now, I have lost most everything I hold dear and will stand to lose even more if I continue. You are my greatest friend, Burd, and, before I meet my maker, I wish to pass on all my treasures to a safe hand." He gave a resigned sort of sigh as Burd's stricken brain attempted to comprehend what he had heard. Polixones Harla, the most audacious and stalwart adventurer he knew, was just going to calmly walk to his executioners and ask for death. This was no way for him to die, not him. He expected him to die bravely in battle or protecting a friend, not like this.
At this, Polixones put
down his hood. He had a very rare purplish hue to his skin which Burd
though was his defining feature. The rest of him was relatively
normal compared to it; stubble on his chin and dark hair pulled into
a long pigtail swung over his shoulder, "Before I leave,
however, I want to show you my greatest and most secret of treasures
that I give to you."
Before Burd could open his mouth to ask
what he had unearthed this time, Polixones had moved to a chest that
one could fit a timber wolf in and beckoned him to follow. Indeed,
the chest did look like something could live inside due to all the
air holes in the top. This lid, upon Burd approaching, was lifted up
by Polixones to reveal what was within.
A grubby-looking blanket met his eyes, not matching the grandeur of the items around it. Something was definitely underneath, he could see the bump. Burd had the idea that it was probably one of Polixones' pet wolves that he'd managed to save. Maybe his prized one, Antony.
Before Polixones could pull it off, however, the blanket stirred and something brightly orange appeared at the edge. Polixones tugged that blanket off and Burd gave a gasp of a amazement.
A tiny Dunmer child, no older than five blinked up at him with ruby red eyes under a mass of bright orange hair. She took one good look at Burd and dove under the blanket again as though terrified,
"No, Lavinia." Polixones firmly pulled it back, "This is Burd. He will be your father now."
"Polixones," gasped Burd, "wha-you mean..."
"She is my secret treasure, Burd." The sad smile was back on his face. Something Burd had never seen before now, "I have kept her birth a secret. No record of her has been made. Now, only you and I know she exists. The Morag Tong knows nothing of her and will not pursue her. I have taken her with me all the while I have been on the run, hiding her along with myself. Such a life is not for a child. The desireable world that I can never give her is with you in Cyrodiil. Her name is Lavinia Harla and she is your own now."
The girl picked up on what was happening quicker than Burd and clasped her father's cloak,
"No, child." Polixones clasped both her tiny hands in one of his thin-fingered ones, "You will find happiness with Burd, away from me." She shook her head violently, sending her hair all over the place, "Now, don't be like that. In Cyrodiil, you can live without fear. Without having to look over your shoulder all the time. You'll never have to hide in this box again. Live, Lavinia. Live a long life without having to run away all the time. Live for me, Mother, Martius and Ophelia. We will be with you." He slowly relinquished her hands, "Now, be a good girl and go with Burd."
With that, he stood up and drew his dagger. Using his foot to trap the point down, he pulled it hard until it snapped. Leaving the blade on the floor, he strode silently to the driver's seat. Before going through, he glanced back at Burd, the manic smile he knew so well back on his face, "If you think I'm going to let the Tong get me, you're dead wrong. I'm going the old Reman way with this dagger." All mania vanished and he began serious for the final time, "You look after my girl, Burd. Sell everything else here if you have to but never let her go."
And, he was gone. He's slipped through the driver's door and Burd heard the faint whinney of a horse. Looking through the flap, he saw his adventure companion and greatest friend vanish into the darkness. He wanted to go after him, maybe to reason with him or fight the Tong that pursued him, he wasn't sure. He just didn't want Polixones to go. But, by the time he had regained the power of his legs, he knew that he was too far away to hear him.
A lump rose in his throat as it finally sank in. Polixones was going to die, he was going to take his own life, alone in the Jeralls, to be found by the assassins that pursued him. No more would he and Burd dive into caves and ruins and come back with treasure beyond their wildest dreams. He would never see Polixones throw himself at any enemy without the slightest trace of fear. Now, he was gone, leaving Burd with a few trinkets and a now-orphaned daughter. And, he hadn't even said goodbye to him...
Turning back, trying to suppress tears, he saw the girl, Lavinia, staring up at him. She did not cry like he expected her to, like he wanted to do himself, she just stared up at him. No trace of sadness, no trace of anger, just staring, as though memorising his face for a portrait. She waited patiently as Burd tried to speak normally, "We-we can't stay here. L-let's go."
He shoved the abandoned broken part of the blade into a small chest, leapt out, backed his horse into the harness in place of the one Polixones rode away on and sat up on the driver's seat while it started to move. The gully was straight and narrow for miles; Burd wouldn't need to steer for quite some time. He moved the flap behind him back and saw Lavinia, still sitting up in the box, staring at the flapping door at the back,
"Lavinia?" She looked around. Still, she had no tears on her face or in her eyes, "C'mon. Sit with me." It took her perhaps a few moments before she made a move. It almost looked as though she was calculating whether it was safe or not. Then, still clutching the blanket around her like a cloak, she delicately stepped out. He could just see a black dress underneath it, slightly too big for her so it trailed and came over her hands.
She slowly approached him, like he was some untamed beast that would attack at sudden movements. Finally, she reached him and accepted the hand to help her up with equal caution. It was astonishing how very...un-childlike she was. She didn't ask him about her father, she didn't burst into tears, she didn't even look at him. She just stared straight ahead of her. Even when he put her arm around her and held her close, she didn't react.
He wondered if she understood what was happening. He hoped not. What a thing for a child as young as her to comprehend that her father was leaving and never coming back. As they continued their silent journey, he began to wonder whether she knew about her mother, her brother and her sister. If she had travelling with Polixones for all this time, she probably didn't have much of a chance to get to know them. Did she even remember them at all?
Being unmarried, Burd had never had children of his own, though he often told Polixones how jealous he was of him for having such a happy family. He didn't really have much of an idea of how to deal with children and so, he worried as they travelled together how to take care of her properly. She, however, acted as though Burd wasn't even there. Her initial anxiety of him faded when the night turned into day.
At the first sight of sunlight, however, she dove back into the caravan as though something had leaped out at her. This shocked Burd at first into thinking that she could see something about to attack them. After about five minutes of riding, however, he realised that there was nothing there. Puzzled, he halted the horse and stepped back into the caravan.
Lavinia was back in the chest, trying to pull the heavy lid over herself, "Don't do that." Burd tried to be gentle in prising her away from it and lifting her back out, "It's okay. You don't have to hide. Come on. Up you get." She seemed fearful of being outside her chest and actually tried to pull away from him, "Hey, hey. Come on." It took him five minutes of constant holding her back and eventually closing the lid so she couldn't get back in before she stopped trying. It took at least fifteen minutes before he could persuade her to come back out. He tried his best not to lose his patience and get angry with her but he became extremely frustrated after a while. He was sure that some of it crept into his voice.
In the end, she came out but kept the fur cloak Burd found for her covering her head so her hair was invisible. This all seemed very odd to him for a moment; what was she so afraid of? Why would the sun rising make her scared? After a moment's thought, he wondered if Polixones had traveled only by night to avoid being seen and hid during the day. Then, she got it into her head that the daytime was dangerous. Polixones was right. Being on the run wasn't any life for a child, especially if it made them get ideas like that.
They didn't get back to Bruma until dusk. All the way through, Lavinia was silent. She did not profess hunger, thirst or any need like he had seen ordinary children do. He heard her stomach rumble but she didn't say anything. Burd wondered if they had regular mealtimes when they were on the run. Or if they went some days without eating at all, No, Polixones wouldn't let his own daughter go hungry. Still, those thoughts managed to invade his mind.
The food they had was dried and stale but, still, Lavina made no complaint. She just slowly ate whatever was handed to her with uncommonly good table manners for someone her age. After a few hours of awkward silence, Burd tried asking her questions to try and get her to talk. He tried to ask her about things that wouldn't upset her like 'how old are you' and 'when's your birthday' but, still, she would not answer him.
He wondered whether she even knew how to talk or whether Polixones had taught her the concept of age. Whether he had time to teach her anything between fleeing the Tong. It soon became clear to him that looking after her would be more daunting than it first seemed. Perhaps he would have to teach her how to talk and, with no idea of how old she was, he had no idea when it was time to send her to school.
All these things became painfully clear to him as they trundled down the road towards the dark shape of Bruma. Along with the worry of where he was going to keep all those riches in the caravan. His house surely couldn't accommadate it all. The ostler hailed him as he pulled up to Wildeye Stables, "Nice ride, Burd. Where'd you pick that up?"
"Oh, nowhere special." Burd shrugged, knowing that a white lie was safer and quicker than the truth, "Mind if I take it into the city?"
"Course not."
The ostler smiled, "Just bring your horse back when you're
done."
"Right, you are." Burd spurred it on,
noting that Lavinia had dived back into the caravan at the sight of a
person. Bringing her outside was clearly going to be a challenge. As
he halted the caravan around the back of his house, he spotted
Raeniel on patrol. Burd wanted to enlist and become a guard but the
only thing that was putting him off was the presence of Raeniel, the
highly unpleasant, Dunmer-hating Bosmer Captain of the Guard.
Seeing him reminded him of the many times he had overheard Raeniel's rantings in Olav's of how much he hated the 'ashborn race' and made him realise that he had to keep Lavinia out of his way. The last thing she needed when coming to a new place was to be on the receiving end of his abuse. Unfortunately, Raeniel chose to get into a conversation with a guard right in front of his house. This meant they had to get in through the cellar entrance.
Again, Lavinia didn't complain. She just picked up a large book half her size, slung a tasselled bag over her body and let him carry her inside. In his arms, she barely weighed more than a sack of wheat and was no bigger than one. He fretted whether girls were meant to be that small before turning his attention back to where she was going to sleep. He could use the guest room upstairs, I hardly ever get guests anyway. But, that would mean leaving her on her own while he slept in the basement. Not a good idea with someone so young.
He stood before the cellar door, dithering as he tried to make a decision. Lavinia gazed up at him, patiently waiting for him. Hesistantly, and after an even longer pause, he said, "Uh, Lavinia. I've got a room upstairs but I sleep down here." She nodded at once, as though she had been asked whether she would like to sleep there, "Are you sure? I could always bring out a bedroll-" Another nod. Burd blinked in surprise at her decisive nature. It was almost like she was an adult in a child's body.
Reluctantly, he showed her to the guest room and closed the curtains. Lavinia immediately discarded her cloak and shoes on a chair without being told and climbed upon the bed that looked far too large for her. The book and bag she carried with her were dumped on the bedside table. She asked Burd for nothing and seemed to require nothing else,
"Uh," Burd blinked in astonishment again. Children were not meant to be this independent, were they? "we'd better have an early night. We'll get up early so I can show you round. Okay?"
She gave a small nod but nothing else. Thinking of nothing else to say, Burd slowly made his way downstairs, not taking his eyes off her until he closed the door behind him. All night, he worried about her and half-waited for when she would come to him because she was scared or wanted some company. Her silence and her independence was strange and unnatural. Even grown men were not like this. He found himself getting up to check on her every half an hour.
As a result, he hardly got any sleep that night and, when dawn finally came, he was rubbing his eyes vigourously while yawning widely. On the other hand, Lavinia seemed to be completely well-rested with no trace of weariness. In fact, she was kneeling on her bed, flipping the pages of the huge book she had brought with her.
Upon looking up, she immediately closed it and placed it back on the bedside table. Slipping on her shoes, she stood, looking completely ready for the day. Burd stared in shock before a thought occurred to him, "Oh, yeah. You, er, didn't get a chance to wash before you went to bed. It's just downstairs." She gave him a look as though she had difficulty understanding what he was saying but, a moment later, she was striding past him down into the cellar. She barely reached his waist,
What is she? Burd thought, as Lavinia slipped through the barest gap between door and frame, Is she really Polixones' daughter? He remembered how Polixones would smile and laugh whenever he and Burd were together, either in a tavern or some dark dungeon. He never lost his spirit and positive outlook for a moment, even when he was wounded from a dreadful battle. Until now, that is.
Everything had changed in one night. Polixones dead by his own blade and Burd with his orphaned daughter. He had no idea what to do, what was ahead of him but he couldn't stop it now. He had to try and get through it, he had to help Lavinia have the normal life her father wanted for her.
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Selena
The liquid fizzed merrily in the bottle as the garlic sliced neatly under the influence of her knife. The potion was just about ready to be completed, she just needed to put everything together. Just as the finished concoction was placed on the shelf, the main door opened,
"Yes?" She called, poking her head around the alchemists' quarters door, "Oh, Burd! Good to see you!" Burd smiled his wide smile at the sight of her, "Off duty, eh?"
"Just about to start." Burd had started work as a guard a week ago, shown by the bright yellow cuirass he wore, "I'm just wondering if you could have a look at Lavinia." The name rang a bell. She had heard the gossipping associates use it in conversation that she had not been involved in. Burd gently tugged at something behind him and, seemingly from nowhere, brought out a small girl wearing a burgundy-red dress.
She was without a doubt one of the strangest children Selene had ever seen. One; she was a Dunmer, that were so rarely seen in places around Bruma. Two; she had bright orange hair in a thick mass around her shoulders. Three; she was staring up at her as though trying to see straight through her,
"She hasn't spoken a word since I brought her here. I wondered if you could do a check-up on her. There might be something wrong."
"Alright, then. Come on, dear. Sit up here." Lavinia obediently sat upon the stool pointed out to her without any hesistation. Selena could not quite pinpoint why but the girl had a strange aura about her, something she couldn't quite put her finger on that drew her to the little girl. However, Selena did a quick examination of her with a spell but found nothing. She tried again and again, even asking her a few simple questions in the kindest voice she could but still nothing.
Burd became anxious as
the seconds went by and she knew that would be late if he stayed any
longer, "Burd, do you have any place for her to stay until
you're done with duty? I could keep an eye on her for you if you
like."
"Are you sure?" Burd gave a start, "I
mean, this is a new place and all. She might get a bit scared-"
"Oh, Burd!" Selena actually laughed, "You're a born parent, you know that. Don't you worry. I've had experience with children. She'll be fine with me. And, of course, if she says anything, I will tell you." Most reluctantly, Burd left for Castle Bruma. Lavinia watched him go and Selena saw her mouth turn downwards slightly. A motion invisible at a distance, "Oh, don't worry, Lavinia. He'll be back."
Though she didn't look convinced, she delved into her bag and brought something out. A flat piece of wood with a piece of parchment clamped into place. Like a skilled artist, she brought out a piece of charcoal from a smaller beaded bag and began to guide it across the page very fast so her hands were becoming a blur. The constant etching of the charcoal became background noise after a while and it never seemed to stop,
"What are you doing there?" Selena asked, trying to peer over her shoulder. Lavinia, however, clasped it to her chest as though she had been disturbed doing something private, "Oh, alright. I won't look." That was as far as any conversation with her went that day. Any other attempts were ignored; the girl seemed completely absorbed in her work, flicking her head up every now and again to whatever she was drawing.
She was soon finished and began another. This time, she took up a book, a alembic and an empty potion bottle without warning and placed them strategically on the table in front of her. Selena found herself paying more attention to Lavinia's activities than her own. Thus, she was more prone to making mistakes, forcing her to try again and again on the same potion for half an hour. All the while, Lavinia remained oblivious to how distracting she was and was well underway with another drawing.
Just as she finally managed to get it right and get the batch done (about ten minutes before Burd's shift was due to be over), the door banged open, nearly causing her to drop it. Whipping around at a loud laugh, she glared at Volanaro and J'skar, who burst into the room, "Selena!" cheered J'skar, his whiskers pulled back in his toothy grin the way Khajiits do, "Here you are! Still slaving away at the pestle, are we?"
"At least, I'm working." She shot him a glare, "What have you two been up to this time?"
"Oh, Selena, how could you think such an awful thought?" Volanaro said, in the mock-tragic voice that he knew grated her, "Here we are, come to say hello and you give us nothing but accusations. Do you really think we're the sort of people who pick on our fellow associates?"
"I know you do." Selena snapped, picked up her knife and slicing the mandrake root with more force than necessary, "Was it Jeanne again?"
"We're not picking on her-" He never got any further because, at that moment, there was a small noise from the corner. Looking around, Selena was shocked to see Lavinia, her work on her knees, giggling into her hands, "Oh, hello! I didn't see you there." Even when he crouched down in front of her, he still surpassed her height by about a head, "What's your name?"
Though Selena was sure that she would talk this time, she made no sound. Her giggles vanished abruptly and she stared up at him with no trace of mirth. After a moment's pause, Selena spoke up, "She's Lavinia. She can't talk."
"Why not?" J'skar asked, "She looks fine to me."
"Well, there's nothing physically wrong with her." She admitted, glad that the two had decided to be serious, "I don't know why but she won't say a word."
"You said 'won't',
there." Volanaro pointed out, "I thought you said a moment
ago that she 'can't' talk."
"That's not what I meant."
Selena admitted, flushing. She hated when Volanaro pointed out every
mistake she made, "I don't know whether it's won't or can't."
Volanaro's eyebrows rose but his eyes did not stay still. They flicked down to Lavinia's drawing board and immediately grabbed it. Just as instantly, she had grabbed it and attempted to pull it back, crying out in distress, "Let that go at once, Volanaro!" Selena snapped, standing up and raising a hand threateningly,
"Alright, then. Sorry, Lavinia." He relinquished the board, which was held to Lavinia's chest as though it was her baby brother. She actually scowled at him, a furious snarl which bared her teeth. With that, she took up her drawings and moved out of the room in clear disgust. Volanaro was left going red in the face and blinking in surprise,
"Now, look what you've done!" Selena snapped, feeling as angry as Lavinia had looked,
"Wow." J'skar scratched the roots of his ears like he did when he was feeling awkward, "I bet she hates you now, Volanaro."
"I just wanted a look..." The Altmer murmered, going red right to the tips of his ears, "...I'm...going to try and apologise." With that, he ambled awkwardly out the room. Having got over her initial anger, Selena found herself impressed with Lavinia. She had never seen Volanaro be so pentinent for upsetting someone before. Perhaps because he never usually picked on children and he hadn't meant it this time.
Poking her head around the door, he saw Volanaro trying desperately to apologise to her and get a response. Lavinia, on the other hand, had somehow managed to haul herself onto the main counter and was sitting there, drawing again and completely ignoring him, "Give it up, Volanaro." J'skar called, after about five minutes of him trying to get her attention, "She's not interested. Let's not bother her."
Again, Selena was amazed. They had never outright avoided bothering anyone as far as she had seen. Except maybe the Count. Volanaro made to leave but, at that moment, Lavinia's tiny hand shot out and grabbed a handful of his robe, making him halt. The moment he looked round, however, she bent over her work again. For about ten minutes, the scene stood still except for her head occasionally flicking up at him, before she released him without warning.
Before Volanaro could open his mouth, however, the door opened and Burd hurried inside, "Sorry, sorry, I'm late!" He gasped at Selena, his face red as though he had been running, "Raeniel made me stay on duty a bit longer for being late. Are you okay, Lavinia?" When she had seen him, she had put away her drawing materials but kept the one she had been doing out, which she folded neatly into four. She made no response to his fretful questions of whether she liked it in the Mages' Guild or if Selena had taken good care of her. It was clear that Burd did not like being away from the girl for a minute.
Without help, she dropped down off the counter, reached up and stuffed the drawing into Volanaro's pocket. Then, without a gesture of farewell to any of them, she strode over to Burd and stood beside him. Volanaro, still confused, pulled the piece of parchment out and unfolded it while Selena answered Burd's questions on how she had got on. He took one look of what was upon it and a look of indignation splashed across his face,
"Hey!" He snapped at Lavinia, "My ears are not big!"
Selena opened her mouth to tell him off but Lavinia beat her to it. A strange but distintively cheeky smile spread across her face as she looked up at Volanaro, making both Selena and Burd stare in astonishment at this amount of emotion from her. The next action was even more surprising. Without the slightest bit of fear of the Altmer mage towering over her, she held her hands up level to her face and stuck out her tongue.
When Burd had led her out, Volanaro was still fuming, "The nerve!" He snarled, glaring at the drawing as though it had done him a personal wrong. Selena peered over his shoulder...and gasped. A drawing of an Altmer face and clearly Volanaro was upon it, looking rather perplexed about something. It looked nothing like a five year old girl could draw. More like a professional artist. Underneath was a caption in spiky, uneven writing, spelling Big Ears.
J'skar peered over as well and burst out laughing, "Great likeness!"
Volanaro snarled back and stalked away into the living quarters, the picture still in his hand.
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Volanaro
How on earth does this place get so cluttered up? He wondered, riffling through a drawer of papers. Some had yellowed and began to crumble with age. He had half-forgotten this drawer existed. Whatever he wasn't immediately interested in was stuffed in there and abandoned, Letter from a friend I don't remember...diagram of the Arcane University...oh, I forgot I had that...drawing...
He stopped his mindless sorting to look at the paper in front of him. It was the oldest of the lot, browning but the charcoal marks were still visible. The words Big Ears still stood out at the bottom of the page, making a lump rise in his throat. He remembered why it was there; when he had heard the news that Lavinia had died, he had stuffed it in the drawer because it reminded him too much of her.
Now that he held it in his hand thirteen years later, every memory of her rose to the surface. Even his first meeting, when she had done this drawing and stuck out her tongue at him, How can she have died like that? He thought again, as he had the day he had heard, How can someone so brilliant, so unique and so lovely be just taken away in one moment? One day, she was there in Burd's house and, overnight, she's gone. He had to put the parchment down to wipe the tears off his face.
A shout upstairs distracted him from his grief. Stuffing the picture into his pocket, he leapt out of his room and threw open the door to the main hall. Just as he mounted the first step, J'skar barrelled into him and the two fell with a crash to the floor, "Oomph!" he gasped, massaging his back as he got up, "J'skar, what the-?"
"No time!" cried the Khajiit. One could always tell whether he was being serious or not and this time, he was. His fur was standing on end, his whiskers twitching and his ears erect, "Necromancers! The King of Worms! Jeanne is dead!"
"What?" gasped Volanaro, nothing really going in except that they were in serious danger. Indeed, he could smell burning drifting from upstairs. Leaping up, he readied the chameleon spell. It was never a good idea to charge headlong into battle before assessing the situation. Just as he thrust out his hand to cast it on J'skar, a hooded Necromancer poked their head down the steps,
"My King! Two more mages here!"
An ancient-looking High Elf glided into view at the Necromancer's shout. Yes, that was the word, glided. His feet did not seem to touch the ground as he came into view. Though he looked a few centuries old, he had a strange, eerie presence of being much older. His flesh was still intact but Volanaro could tell that it was a lich. That he stood before the King of Worms, Mannimarco.
The chameleon spell died in his hands due to lack of attention. He had no power to move his limbs, let alone cast a spell. It was as though someone had put a sword to his throat, though no blade was visible. He could not move or think clearly, except that he was going to die. That was certain. There was no escape from the king of the necromancers.
A gasping came to his ears, making him twitch his eyes to the side. Selena was being dragged by the scruff of the neck by another necromancer, pale as snow and bleeding from a gash on her stomach. An Imperial female with neat hair and a hard face, "Here, my King. I have subdued this one."
"Well done, Camilla." A terrible smile spread across that face and his voice was deeper than a normal elf's wont, "I shall gratefully accept her soul. In the meantime, take care of these two."
CRACK! CRASH!
The ceiling above them exploded, showering them with dust and splintering wood. He leapt back in shock, the spell of the King of Worms gone, sure that this was another companion of theirs. Some gigantic undead creature perhaps. Snowflakes fell through the hole as the dust faded. These white flakes were caught by something dark and feathery. A hooded figure, with their back to him, stood between them and the King. The necromancer, Camilla, lay dead at their feet.
Mannimarco gave a small gasp at the scene, dropping the half-conscious Selena. The hooded one that had exposed them charged forward with a loud frenzied battlecry, drawing forth a bound dagger. He too met the same fate as Camilla, falling to the floor with his throat cut. When he had hit the ground, the figure advanced towards Mannimarco without a trace of fear. Volanaro didn't know quite what was going on but a small glimmer of hope entered him that perhaps all was not lost after all,
"Oh, my dear!" The Altmer smirked in a way that made Volanaro's skin crawl, "How very impressive. Neither of my two most powerful followers are even close to your skill. You crushed them like insects. What an interesting subject you will be. I would love to know where you get such physical strength."
A humourless chuckle came from the stranger, "Why don't you experience my strength first-hand right now?" At this, she spread out her arms, revealing the most strange choice of weapons Volanaro had seen used. A long elven claymore in her right hand, held up perfectly well with one hand, and an ebony shortsword, point down, in her left, "Do try to pay attention, though. You will only realise it a split-second before you die."
At that, she tore up the rest of the stairs and lunged with her claymore at him. Mannimarco leapt out of the way just in time and the claymore was left to sink an inch deep into the wooden floor a foot from Selena, "My, my, that was close." Mannimarco sighed, still calm and collected as ever, "I would have lost an arm at least with a swing like that. You will indeed be a fine addition to my collection."
As the stranger advanced a second time, Volanaro was pushed by J'skar up the steps so they could watch and take care of Selena in the process. Every necromancer in the place had stopped dead in their tracks to watch and another hooded figure loomed up behind Mannimarco. A dark ebony claymore was raised above their head and the surrounding watchers could only cry a belated warning before the Altmer's arm was severed at the elbow. That useless limb wasted away to dust before it hit the ground.
Mannimarco, though gasping in pain, managed to collect himself enough to say, "Two of you? Very clever and, might I say, just a tad unfair? But, before we really get this battle underway, may I ask what connection you both have with this place? You are not mages, I'll swear."
"You deserve no battle etiquette. And, no answer." The first stranger stated and the two of them closed in within the blink of an eye. Mannimarco fell to the floor, with a gaping hole in his stomach and his head cut off. That body was only visible for a second before it too crumbled to dust. All that was left was a strange-looking staff and a set of ragged necromancer's robes.
The scene stood still for a moment. None of the bystanders dared to believe their eyes. The feared, immortal, invincible King of Worms had been cut down in a trice. Then, one of the necromancers screamed in terror and the spell was broken. In one black great mass, they fled through the ruined doors amid cries of,
"Don't hurt me!"
"I give up!"
"They'll kill us all!"
The first stranger thrust out a hand towards Volanaro, J'skar and a just-faintly-breathing Selene and pursued them. On command, the second stranger hurried to them. Her cloak was blue, like a conjurer's robe, and Volanaro wagered a guess that she was a High Elf judging by her size, though what he could see of her skin beneath her hood was sallow rather than the standard tan he bore. Underneath, she wore some strange light armour, close-fitting like leather but as black as the necromancers' robes.
She stuck her claymore into the floor and knelt by Selena. She began uttering healing spells at once, coaxing bright blue magic to flow from her hands to Selena's wound. J'skar managed to find his voice first, "You-you both killed him...like that...What are you?"
The Altmer made no reply but continued her work. The wound was healing up nicely now and the blood was fading as the damage was reversed. This woman was obviously a Master of Restoration if she could do that this quickly. The fires around them smouldered, dying as the snow and chill wind from both holes in the ceiling where their saviours had descended. He noticed that the cloak had a long split down the middle and the feathers combined to create the image of wings.
The leader of the two (he assumed) returned sometime later with blood splashed on her dark face. She was clearly a Dunmer, though her red eyes were invisible under her hanging hood, "How is she?" She directed the question at her companion, "Does she need your assistance now?"
"She is doing well."
The other answered, standing, "If she is taken care of well, she
should recover."
"Good. Oh, yes." She delved into
her pockets after sticking her claymore into the floor like her
companion. Volanaro stood too, his legs shaking. J'skar took over
with the healing as the strange woman approached. Though she was not
as terrifying as Mannimarco, she certainly held an oppressing aura
that told him she was not one to cross. However, she did nothing but
held out a folded piece of parchment, "You dropped this, Big
Ears."
Before he could say another word, she had twirled round and began to walk out, her companion following her. Instinctively, he followed her, though he felt like his knees would not hold him up for much longer. He tried calling after her but his voice wouldn't work. Once they were outside, they were hailed by a dozen guards hurrying towards the burning Mages' Guild. Burd led them and the Dunmer took only one look at him before fleeing at top speed with her companion tailing behind into the night.
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A/N: Aw, isn't little Lavinia cute?
