Safety. It's a rare luxury for an invader of Coldharbour; but Aneril felt its comforting touch the moment she roused, even before she'd opened her eyes. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and knew where she was; the weight on her shoulder, trusting, and the warmth on her side revealed with whom she shared this luxury.
Aneril turned her head, nose buried in the mess of maroon hair spilled over her shoulder, tickling the skin of her neck. Another short inhale, and she smelled the blood and exertion from a day gone past, knowing well that she bore the same scent. After all, they hadn't the chance to clean up after staggering back to the Hollow City bloodied, bruised, and barely able to hold themselves up. But the exhaustion left no imprint in her mind at all, not beside another concern which worried her more.
Carefully rolling onto her side and setting Vareysa's head on the pillow, Aneril draped an arm over her partner. She angled her head down, pressing her own forehead to Vareysa's warmer counterpart. Aneril was troubled that the slight fever hadn't dissipated overnight, despite the medicinal brew Vareysa had gulped down groggily, but she took comfort in the fact that it hadn't worsened. Even if not cured, at least it was under control.
A quiet sigh left her lips, as she trailed gentle fingertips along the line of her partner's jaw; featherlight touches which she hadn't perfected yet, but was deft enough that it didn't wake Vareysa from sleep. She did apply more pressure though, when she reached the stubbornly-inert ears, even tweaking it between her fingers, though to no response from Vareysa. Aneril folded the ear flat to Vareysa's head, indulging in a soft chuckle as she waited for her partner to wake – which didn't happen. She must be knocked out cold.
Leaving Vareysa to her own peace, Aneril pushed herself up and laid a kiss on her partner's temple. Then she rolled off the bed, and dunked herself into a tub with water already cooled – someone must've filled it last night. She scrubbed herself thoroughly with bath salts, wincing whenever she rubbed over the scratches on her body, but was determined to get every particle of dirt out before she went on another mission. Her skin felt raw when she left the tub, but it was well-worth the satisfaction of being clean once more – yet another luxury in a Daedric realm.
It seemed the day had long started before Aneril left the house – the marketplace and its forge was alive with chatters, hammers clanging on anvils, and scratching of knives on wood. A few Fighters nodded at her as they patrolled around the city, and in the eastern district she spotted the mages she'd rescued from the court of Judge Xiven. They waved her over, mumbled their joy at the sight of her, and together they shuffled along sleepily towards the inn.
The tavern on the first floor was only half-full, but before Aneril could sit with the mages, a warrior hopped to her side with sprightly steps and invited her to the upper floor for a 'discussion'. Mystified, Aneril followed the fighter up without the faintest idea of what to expect, and found a group of guild members gathered around two tables pushed up against each other. They turned their heads in unison upon Aneril's approach, and before she could even speak, they hailed her over and pulled her into the middle of the crowd.
Aneril was guided into a seat emptied for her by a mage, and a plate of flatbread wraps was pushed into her hands, while she got an eyeful of the map laid out on the tables. Fighters and Mages alike sat and stood around the table, munching on their own food as they studied the map in front of them – which Aneril noticed had been expanded with sketches of Coldharbour's northern territory. One Altmer warrior explained that their scouts had recently reconnoitered the area, and found a large chasm and a gatehouse which had to be crossed, before they could establish a frontline for their final assault on what was tentatively identified as Molag Bal's stronghold.
To the Altmer's displeasure, a Breton fighter cut in smoothly to take over the brief. Darien Gautier – Aneril recognised him from her time in the City – was eager to share what he'd learnt from conversations with Cadwell; apparently there were portal platforms along the chasm which the Daedra could use to defend the road, and the gatehouse at the chasm's end was guarded by a Winged Twilight who was the daughter of Molag Bal.
"Molag Bal?" One Fighter burst out incredulously behind Aneril. "Can Princes even have children?"
"Well, yes, actually," a Mage replied. "But the specifics are...murky, at best."
"Ugh, who cares? If she's the daughter of Molag Bal, she's gotta be as hideous as her father."
"What, did you have intentions towards her?"
"No, but maybe Darien does!"
The group roared with laughter, including Darien, who smacked the tabletop with his hand in mirth. After the room had calmed, a breathless Darien admitted, "Honestly, I don't know anything about her, except her name: 'Molag Grunda'. And...she probably has wings? 'Cause she's a Twilight and all that…"
"Since she is Bal's daughter," Aneril spoke for the first time, and the group promptly quieted. "It would be safe to assume that she has a fraction of her father's power. Or at least, that she is more powerful than the regular Winged Twilight. Our current strategies may not work with her. Is King Dynar aware of her?"
"Yes, but he hasn't said anything about her yet," Darien replied. "In fact, he has said nothing about the 'war plans' he'd been mulling over for the past week, so…"
"I'm sure he's got something in mind."
"Oh! He did mention waiting for Galerion to return."
"That was my next destination, actually. I'll head over east soon, see if he's still there."
The group nodded, as if there'd been some unspoken agreement to accept her word without question. Aneril received a few pats on the back as encouragement, and her eyes slowly grew wide as more and more plates of hot food were pushed towards her, as if to feed her up before the next mission.
When she returned to her quarters, it was with a cloth bundle in her arms, warm and weighty with all the food that Aneril couldn't finish at the inn. Wondering dimly if Vareysa would be able to finish it, Aneril walked through the door to find her partner already awake, propped up against the headboard with pillows. She didn't respond to Aneril's entrance, and her eyes only fluttered open when a hand was laid over her forehead.
"Morning, mom," she muttered.
"You're still running a fever," Aneril noted. "How do you feel?"
"Alright, actually. Just a little tired, is all."
Aneril nodded, going to the cabinets to retrieve a tray to hold the bundle of food, before setting it on Vareysa's lap. She untied the cloth sheet, revealing the modest bounty within, and Vareysa chuckled when Aneril explained how she'd ended up with a small feast in her hands.
"Everyone's gotta take care of their hero, Anni," Vareysa teased. "Who else will save them otherwise?"
"Themselves, maybe," Aneril deadpanned, watching Vareysa take a bite of meat-filled flatbread. She waited, dreading her next words because she knew how it would end, then said, "I may have to set out soon. So I thought it'd be best to leave you here to rest–"
"You are not leaving me anywhere," Vareysa cut in, as expected. "I'm coming with you. Just give me a day more – two, at most. I'll be fine by then."
"But…"
"I'm fine, Anni. I've been through worse than this. Much worse." Vareysa took a bite from her wrap, holding Aneril's gaze steadily before her eyes softened. "Trust me, I barely feel the fever. And the neck's just a little stiff, that's all. It'll get better in no time."
"If you say so," Aneril sighed, knowing better than to argue. The worst case would have Vareysa setting out with Aneril with a temperature still burning in her forehead, arguing with Aneril's futile effort to have her stay. Or, no – the worst case would have Vareysa lodging her daggers in both Aneril's legs, to stop her from leaving.
The thought made Aneril's lips curve in a crooked smile, and she reached for Vareysa, worrying at the scar on her partner's neck. She ran her fingertips down the thin line of ridged flesh; it was mostly healed, though still reddish and sensitive. Aneril hoped it wouldn't leave a permanent scar; if anything, it should be she who is scarred herself, for embarking on this endeavour in the first place.
"If you wanna kiss it better, I won't protest."
Aneril snorted, then laughed under her breath. She leaned in to kiss her partner, catching the impish glint dancing in her partner's eyes. "We'll stay here 'til you're healed."
Vareysa's smile was knowing, teasing, and Aneril thought she couldn't look any more beautiful, in that very moment.
They spent just a day longer in the city, during which Vareysa hastened her recovery by imbibing stamina tonics in addition to healing potions. Though neither had side effects, Aneril worried that Vareysa wasn't actually accelerating the healing process, but merely slapping bandages over a wound that still needed time to rest, and would reopen under too much pressure. Vareysa seemed unconcerned though, determined to wave off Aneril's fretting while insisting that she was fine, and Aneril chose not to argue. Instead, she bought extra stamina and healing potions, and slipped the vials quietly into her belt pouches.
When the day came, they set out from the city's eastern gates once more, determinedly following the compass and map in Aneril's hands. This time, they traced a path farther east than the trajectory they'd taken towards the valley of lost villages, and soon they'd crossed a jagged, rocky bridge over a deep chasm, and reached a river of searing hot lava. As Vareysa smirked at this sight 'similar to home', Aneril spotted a ghostly figure walking towards them, and her hand gripped on her sword's hilt until it came close enough for her to recognise the visage of Vanus Galerion. More specifically, his projection.
"Greetings! This magical projection presents my current plan to my allies. Separated and alone, I decided to complete our mission. Personally. I entered the Black Forge through a side door with the intention of destroying the Great Shackle beyond."
Aneril eyed the black Daedric structure looming over them from the opposite bank of the lava river, which had been blocked from view by thick, ashy clouds. Not somewhere she'd venture without a plan.
"Really. And how's that coming along?"
"In case it needs to be said, the Black Forge creates all of Molag Bal's vile weapons, including the dark anchors and the Great Shackle. With the Great Shackle destroyed, the threat of the Planemeld should come to an end."
Aneril frowned. "You can't actually hear me, can you?"
"No need to concern yourself. I'm sure I have this well in hand. I imagine I've already destroyed the Great Shackle and even now we're celebrating our victory over the Lord of Brutality. Yes, I'm sure that's what has happened."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure that's not happening any time soon, you pompous ass," Aneril sighed. "You've been missing for weeks."
"Such hubris. It's actually admirable," Vareysa drawled, drawing her dagger and tossing it in the air, catching its hilt effortlessly. "I suppose that's our cue to head in?"
"We could leave him in there a little longer."
"That goes against your grain, hero. Come on–"
"Wait." Aneril stopped Vareysa with an outstretched arm. She returned Vareysa's cocked brow with a flat stare. "You're not using your daggers."
"What?"
"You'll stay in the backlines and use your bow. We're not going in otherwise," Aneril added, when Vareysa narrowed her eyes dangerously. She stood firm, staring at her partner until Vareysa relented with an unhappy pout, sliding her daggers into their sheaths at her hips. Violet-blue magic gathered about her hands, and which soon wielded a corporeal conjured bow.
"Good girl."
Vareysa squinted, and Aneril couldn't hide her giggle. "You're lucky I like you, Anni."
"I love you too," Aneril replied, conjuring her shield as well. "Now, shall we?"
They entered the Black Forge through a thin, mer-sized hole in the wall beside the heavy locked gates, which Aneril assumed had been cut out by Vanus' magic. Inside, they found themselves standing in what looked like a large courtyard, its grounds as grey and desolate as the outside. Feral Shriven and red-eyed vampires stalked the area, and Vareysa grabbed Aneril's hand immediately, cloaking them both in an invisibility spell. They skirted along the edges of the yard, but made a detour when they spotted a Daedric device in a corner further in. Within its three claws sprouted from the ground, shackled by dark magic, was none other than Vanus Galerion.
Aneril frowned, and walked closer to the mer – realising it was just...another projection of him? At her order, Vareysa dropped the cloaking spell, and Vanus jerked his eyes up to them. His exclamation was quiet, thankfully, and he explained that he was not Vanus himself, but the manifestation of the essence of his health. Aneril cocked her head, noting the figure's red shade, and listened to how Vanus had strode into this Forge and wound up captured. The Daedra tried to use his power to fuel the Great Shackle for the Planemeld, but Vanus split himself into three – the essence of health, magicka, stamina respectively – in order to hinder their plans. Now that Aneril and Vareysa were here, they could piece him back together, and aid him in his mission to end the Planemeld.
They nodded and turned to look at the ferals shambling about the courtyard, when Vanus explained that his energy had been drained by those fiends. They had to be slain in order to retrieve Vanus' essence, which would then give him enough power to break free of his shackles.
It was an easy task to locate isolated groups of the fiends and take them down, a red glow escaping their bodies upon their deaths, forming into orbs which floated around Aneril and Vareysa. When they'd collected a substantial amount, they delivered the orbs to Vanus, watching the red wisps infuse with his translucent aspect, until it shone bright and cast its shackles off in a gleam of light. His mer-like aspect exclaimed with joy, then folded into itself, turning into a bright red wisp which floated around them – a temporary companion to follow their journey into the Black Forge.
They found his next aspect in a mine dug deep into the ground, held in a trap similar to that which imprisoned his health. This one glowed green, being Vanus' essence of stamina, and was drained of its energy as well. So they searched the mine for Shriven slaves, to whom the essence's energy had been given to bolster their ability to dig for prolonged periods of time. Aneril managed to coax most of them into surrendering the energy willingly, and Vareysa only had to flash her dagger once, before they gathered enough green orbs to restore Vanus' stamina.
When this green-glowing aspect broke its shackles with another flashy show of power, it floated to them as a shimmering green wisp, joining the two mer in search of the essence of magicka. Unfortunately, the blue aspect was held within a sweltering foundry, where its Dremora workers spotted the mer intruders before Vareysa could cloak them. Aneril steeled herself for a hard fight, but Vanus' wisp essences bolstered their health and stamina, and Aneril found herself hitting harder and faster, with almost no effort at all.
In the blink of an eye, the last Dremora was impaled between Aneril's sword and Vareysa's arrows, then kicked to the ground in a lifeless heap. They stared at each other for a moment, dumbfounded by the hectic, easy flurry of violence, then exchanged matching grins before going to speak with the Great Mage's essence of Magicka. With its instruction and a simple application of magicka, they broke the four seals which bound it to this forge, empowering it with a flood of azure energy. This aspect turned into a wisp as well, and guided them into the next room, which housed a lone cage holding the slumped form of Vanus Galerion himself – in the flesh, this time.
He roused groggily at the sound of their boots approaching his cage, and seemed to have little energy to do anything but watch his wisps merge with his body. It worked like a charm – Vanus' eyes grew bright when his energies were restored, and he sprung to his feet with the agility of a mer several centuries his younger. With a smooth wave of his hand, he burnt the obsidian metal of his cage, melting a hole in its side to walk through – similar to his handiwork in the outer wall of the Black Forge.
"Ah, much better!" Vanus proclaimed as he stepped out, taking a deep breath of dank air which must seem mountain-fresh in his liberation. He turned his blazing eyes to his saviours, and beckoned with a hand. "Come, follow me out of this foul place. Then we can talk."
The Black Forge was only one part of the entire Daedric structure – Vanus led them through an unguarded gate, and came to a stop on the plain grounds behind the Forge. A metal bridge extended from where they stood, over a wide river of azure plasm, feeding into a gate of another edifice.
"The time has come. The Great Shackle must be destroyed," Vanus said. "Stay close and follow my every command. Taking down the Great Shackle—the primary conduit for the Planemeld—requires precision and the careful application of destructive spells. As it so happens, I am a master of destructive spells."
"Of course," Aneril replied simply. She nodded at the fort before them. "So, the Great Shackle. What else can you tell us about it?"
"What can I tell you that isn't obvious? The Great Shackle is the ultimate version of Molag Bal's Dark Anchors, a massive weapon capable of completing the Planemeld of its own accord. It would be a fascinating device if it wasn't so terrifying."
"If it's that powerful, how you can dismantle it on your own?"
"They wanted to use my energy to power the Shackle. That indicates to me that the Shackle utilizes some form of energy. Disrupting that flow of energy may be key to destroying the Great Shackle. I'll know more once we get inside."
Vanus looked thoughtful for a moment, then started for the bridge. But he stopped and turned around. "I expect we will face resistance inside. I need to conserve my energy for dealing with the Shackle, so I leave the hacking and slashing up to you."
"Wonderful," Vareysa sang in a flat note, drawing an amused glance from Aneril, before they readied their weapons and took point.
They entered the walls which housed the Great Shackle – its architecture reminding Aneril of the intricate network of machineryin Dwemer automatons. It made sense, Aneril mused, given that the Shackle was one huge machine itself, in a manner of speaking.
They followed the corridors, taking down Dremora patrols along the way with Vanus' magical aid, and soon found themselves in a prison of sorts, a maze with chambers full of cages. At Aneril's insistence, they scouted the chambers, and found a Nord sage and warrior still sane among other Shriven who'd lost their senses in captivity. They freed the Nord pair, who offered their magic and blade to their cause, upon learning their intention to destroy the Shackle.
With two additions to the team, they carved a path through the great mechanism, leaving Dremora bodies in their wake as they searched for the central chamber which housed the 'Great Mooring', as Vanus had named it. It took them some time, and eventually a surprise appeared in the form of Cadwell, who leapt into their midst by way of portal and offered to lead them to the Mooring. Vanus had protested against trusting this 'stranger', but after Aneril's reassurance, the group fell in behind Cadwell as he marched merrily on. He told with cheer how the Groundskeeper had sent him here to help, embellishing his tale with fanciful details, and Aneril took a sliver of comfort in his unquenchable lust for life and adventure.
Cadwell led true with an admirable sense of direction, guiding them down hallways with no Dremora guards at all, then opened the gates to the Great Mooring with a flourish. Aneril didn't watch Cadwell's butler-like bow – her eyes were fixed on the largest Dark Anchor she'd ever seen, lodged in the air right above them. She'd frozen without thinking, and only came to herself when Vareysa grasped her by the elbow, gently shaking her back to the present.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
Aneril didn't bother to smile or look at Vareysa. Her eyes were drawn to Vanus, who strode to the centre of the platform beneath the Anchor, magicka crackling about his form as he commanded them to guard him, while he worked to destroy this Anchor.
He'd barely finished speaking when swirling red portals sprang up around the platform, and the four fighters tightened ranks around Vanus, while Cadwell gave a loud whoop and charged frighteningly swift into the Daedra spilling out of the portals. While the rest focused on slaying their foes before they got too close, Aneril kept Vanus' direct vicinity clear of Dremora who broke through. With each minute passing by, the number of Daedra breaching their defensive lines grew, and Aneril was swept into an endless cycle of sprinting to one foe and another, cutting down Daedra with reckless abandon before they reached the Great Mage.
It was after an eternity, during which Aneril had grown immeasurably exhausted and battered, on the verge of kneeling just to take a breath, that the air around Vanus exploded with an incredible surge of magicka. Aneril was thrown to her hands and knees, bracing against the terrifying gale which left them unharmed but tore through the Daedra mercilessly. She cracked her eyes open amid the blinding stream of energy, and watched as Vanus' magic streaked towards the chains holding the Dark Anchor steady, ripping them apart in a shower of boiling, red-hot metal.
Red globs sizzled against the barrier Vanus had conjured to protect them, as the potent magicks slowed to a stop, and the destruction above them unfolded. The Dark Anchor was ripped apart amid great metallic screeching, and finally tore itself asunder with a thunderous clap. Aneril's ears rang from the cacophony, and could just pick out Cadwell's whooping as he celebrated the Anchor's demise.
Vanus seemed overjoyed as well. "I did it. The Great Shackle has been shattered! The threat of the Planemeld is no more!"
"Jolly good! And, as soon as you deal with the planar vortex, everything will be right as rain!"
Cadwell's remark sent them into silence. Even Vanus seemed thrown, then demanded, "What? Explain yourself, man! What planar vortex?"
"The Shackle formed a planar vortex. Kind of like an Oblivion straw that will suck Nirn right through and into Coldharbour. Quite amazing how I knew that!"
"Enough! We can discuss this back in the Hollow City. I'll open a portal before this entire place collapses on top of us!"
While Vanus turned his back to conjure a portal, Aneril rose to her feet with a sigh, reaching out to wipe a smudge of black blood from Vareysa's face, when her partner came close. "It never ends, does it?"
"Are you surprised?"
"Not even the slightest, no."
Vanus' portal delivered them right at the doorstep of the Hollow City's Mages Guild, and he marched right into the guild house, announcing his intention to fathom how to destroy this 'planar vortex'. Left behind by the mage, Cadwell led their two Shriven allies off to find some food and shelter, while Aneril and Vareysa headed to the Fighters Guild to report Vanus' return to the City. King Dynar was gladdened to hear the news, and clasped a hand on Aneril's shoulder, giving her thanks and leave for some rest and recuperation.
With the Ayleid king's express permission to rest, Aneril wasted no time in taking a bath – which Vareysa insisted they shared – then fell into the bed for a nap. When she woke, she grabbed a bottle of wine and a drowsy Vaerysa, heading out to the cherry blossom tree nearest to their house. With Shur'azan lying near the pond under the tree's shade, Aneril plopped herself down and leaned against the sturdy trunk, pouring out two glasses of wine. She took the first sip, and sighed in near-synch with Vareysa, who rested against the tree as well, leaning against Aneril's shoulder.
"You know," Vareysa said, voice still rough with sleep that Aneril had woken her from. "Part of me's kinda concerned that we're taking all of this in stride."
"Yeah?"
"Well, invading a Daedric Prince's realm to launch an attack on him isn't quite an everyday thing, is it? Neither is wading through a fetching horde of Daedra every other day."
"That's true."
"You'd better stop this hero business after the Planemeld, got it?"
"Yes, dear." Aneril took another sip of wine, already feeling her nerves growing mellow despite the mission just a couple of hours earlier. She gazed at the pond for a while, then noticed Vareysa staring at her. "What?"
"Why do I feel like that's a lie?"
"It's not a lie, promise," Aneril said with a smile, their hands finding each other naturally, fingers twining together. "After this, no more Daedra business, no more high-stakes missions. I've had my fill of it."
Vareysa regarded her longer, pursing her lips comically before relenting with a smile. "Good. I'll hold you to your word."
"Just my word?" Aneril deadpanned, holding Vareysa's wry gaze with a dry stare. She hid her smile behind the glass as she took another sip of wine, relaxing against the tree. For the longest time, she watched green and pink leaves fall to the pond, floating on its tranquil surface. Just this familiar sight alone reminded her of what had been home. Swirling her glass, Aneril said quietly, "My family…didn't think I'd amount to anything. You know that?"
That drew Vareysa's quiet gaze, but her partner did not speak.
"They never said it outright, but I knew." The glass in her hand grew still. "And yet here I am, facing hordes of Daedra to save the world."
A lapse into silence, then, "You don't have to save the world just to prove anything, you know."
"I know."
"And you have to prove nothing to no one."
"I know." A slight pressure grew in her chest, and Aneril forced a smile to relieve it. "I just find it ironic, that's all."
Vareysa gazed at her quietly. "What you're doing now, Anni – it's something to be proud of."
"I know," Aneril repeated again. "Actually, I don't really know if I feel proud or foolish to be here."
Vareysa smiled, a chuckle leaving her lips. "It takes a fool to be a hero…and it takes a fool to be in love."
"Seems all fools end up in the same place, huh?"
"Not really," Vareysa murmured, leaning in to press their lips together. "Some just end up finding each other."
