"There. This is where the tracks lead."
They stood in front of the cavern entrance as the cold wind howled through the crevice.
Karnwyr has been letting out low grows ever since they picked up the cabal's tracks. Something seemed to be unsettling him wildly. Was it possible that the rumors were true? Did the witches really find a way to summon the spirit of the mad queen?
"What would they even have to gain from summoning her?" Aeyrin pondered out loud, staring at the cavernous walls in front of them.
"Who knows what crazy shit goes through a hag's head. Best thing to do is slaughter them so you don't have to find out," Bishop smirked and inclined his head towards the entrance.
Aeyrin nodded resolutely and checked over all the fastenings on her armor and weapons once more before she led the way inside.
She's never seen a spirit summoning, let alone a summoning of an unstable madwoman and a necromancer. How long did such a thing take? She would have assumed it wasn't that time-consuming. Wouldn't the deed be done already since the cabal has been meeting in the woods for over a week now?
They weaved their way through the long cavernous halls undisturbed for a while, tentatively listening for any signs of the witches.
After a while of uneventful dungeon delving, Karnwyr growled lowly and quietly as several voices echoed faintly through the narrow passages.
"… is taking too long. We should have achieved our goals by now," the woman's voice sounded frustrated and even a bit exhausted.
"The Mistress insisted on waiting. You know this. This summoning is no easy task. We have to ensure that every little detail is in order before we proceed. Our queen's spirit may become confused or an unwelcome passenger may follow it from Oblivion," an older woman chastised the first one in a condescending tone.
So it was true – they were really planning to summon the spirit of Potema back to Nirn. A chill went down Aeyrin's spine merely at the thought. Why? This seemed like a bad idea any way she looked at it.
That woman called her 'their queen'. Were they somehow revering the insane ruler? Perhaps they thought she would reward them if they brought her back. Perhaps they hoped that she would take over the rule of Skyrim, with them as her most favored subjects.
And in what form would they bring her back? Into a draugr? Or an atronach? Was that even possible?
They listened for a while longer but the conversation ended there with no more useful information for them.
Bishop snuck further in until he located the two women just as they were messing around with some magical trinkets and components. He had no idea what those could be used for. He never understood the crap that mages did.
The only way forward, however, was through them.
He came back for Aeyrin and Karnwyr and they all moved forward into the room. He shot the younger woman the second she was in his sights, without anyone the wiser.
The older woman reacted instantly and her hands lit with fire just as Aeyrin charged at her, her shield ready to bash.
She didn't stop. She only registered some flames surrounding her shield as she crashed into the woman in her momentum, throwing her into the nearby wall roughly. She proceeded to bash her with her mace to ensure her demise, killing the witch as quickly as possible.
Good.
They were still undiscovered and two of the women were dead. By Bishop's estimates, there were at least ten of them. Although they had no idea how many left the tracks and how many were already inside.
What was a bit more concerning, however, was the presence of some remnants of ancient Nordic architecture in the room. That probably meant a long lost ruin was further in. And that meant draugr. Possibly even a dragon priest.
At least they knew what they were getting into.
…
True to their assumptions, they encountered some other remnants of ancient structures, as well as some draugr patrolling the halls.
Aeyrin wondered just how exactly did the witches ensure that the undead didn't attack them? The book Bishop read said that draugr awakened when their resting places were disturbed. Perhaps the witches killed them and then raised them again themselves, controlling them. But that would mean that their existence was very temporary, wouldn't it?
No wonder the mages scoffed at restoration – it was so simple as opposed to stuff like conjuration. She never thought it appropriate to call herself a mage anyway since she could only cast basic healing spells, but the whole scholarly aptitude of the mages at the College made it even more obvious that she could never count herself among their numbers.
They were walking through one of the passages when more voices alerted them. But these ones were pretty far and murmured – they couldn't understand a thing from where they were standing.
They continued forwards until they entered a large cavernous chamber.
Not large… enormous.
There was an entire tall structure built on the inside. It looked like it was once a tower, now half-crumbled and overgrown with moss. The voices were coming from below it. Among the ruins, a large group of at least eight witches gathered there, talking and fiddling with more magical and alchemical things.
Aeyrin and Bishop continued forth quietly, hoping to hear more of their conversations.
Before they could overhear anything clearly, a sound from a dark corner rattled them.
A draugr spotted them immediately, its stance was ready for battle, but instead of charging at them, it opened its mouth. The creature's throat rumbled vaguely before an overwhelmingly loud sound came from it.
Did that sound like…?
The noise was strangely distorted, probably by the decay of the creature's body and organs, but the effect let them know immediately what it was.
All three of them were hurled across the chamber, crashing into a large stone half-crumbled wall.
Aeyrin's armor clanked loudly against the stone and the sound promptly echoed through the chamber while her body resonated unpleasantly from the impact. Bishop and Karnwyr weren't so lucky. Their bodies were unprotected by sturdy plates and now they were battered everywhere, down to the bones.
The witches heard everything, of course. Their shocked voices and hurried footsteps echoed through the large cavern only a second after the impact.
Aeyrin scrambled up on her feet as fast as she could while Bishop and Karnwyr still collected themselves in pain. Several witches have already reached them along with the draugr. The onslaught would come in a matter of seconds. She had to act fast.
"YOL!"
Two of the witches' robes caught aflame along with the draugr. The rest only gaped at her and they dropped their spell-weaving hands in shock.
They weren't attacking anymore? What did that mean?
"The ritual! Now! Get the Mistress! We need to do the ritual now!" one of the witches yelled in panic and all of them reacted instantly. Instead of taking care of the intruders, they ran inside the tall structure without even looking back.
She had to stop them!
"IIZ!"
Good thing she practiced the new Shout back at the College.
Two other witches were encased in sturdy blocks of ice which instantly fell onto the ground with a loud clank.
Before Aeyrin managed to rush after the ones that got away, an arrow swished by her head and a loud grunt of pain echoed behind her. Bishop was likely very battered. One of the witches got pierced by an arrow and Bishop forced himself to rush forward, ignoring the state of his body. He was getting pretty fed up with being this battered constantly. It seemed to happen more and more often lately.
"Princess, take care of them! We can't have them at our backs when they thaw!" he called out to her as he continued to aim at the running witches. They couldn't risk getting caught off guard by the two on the ground.
Aeyrin bashed her mace into the blocks of ice hurriedly, shattering them into a million pieces, along with the completely frozen hags inside.
Well… that was… disturbing. But what did it matter? Dead was dead.
They all followed the witches up the crumbling tower rather unsuccessfully. Aeyrin couldn't keep up with her heavy armor and her fast movement Shout would be too dangerous with so little room to maneuver – she would only fall off the tower that way. Bishop and Karnwyr were occasionally staggered by their injuries and on top of that, there were draugr emerging from the upper levels constantly, stopping them in their rush.
"Wolf Queen! Hear our call and awaken! We summon Potema!"
They weren't even half-way there when the voice echoed through the cavern. A sharp purple light illuminated the ceiling, emanating from the very top of the tower.
"We summon Potema!"
Several voices echoed in unison right after. There must have been at least five more witches on the top. That was even more than escaped them.
They really needed to stop them.
They still had no idea how long the summoning could take. But it was obvious that the hags weren't about to do this yet. It was only Bishop and Aeyrin's presence there that forced them into this course of action. Maybe the ritual wouldn't work?
They made their way further up slowly while the voices of the witches still echoed through the cavern. They kept chanting the same things but the light above the tower was gaining on intensity. What did that mean? Were they making progress?
Aeyrin and Bishop hurried along the steps and they let Karnwyr make sure that anything they left behind was really dead.
When they finally managed to get to the top, the witches seemed to ignore them, determinedly continuing their ritual.
They stood on the top of the tower, forming a large circle. Their hands were raised and lit with the sharp purple light which could have been seen on the ceiling previously. Strings of it were shooting forth from the witches' hands to form an orb where they met in the middle. There were magical symbols painted on the floor of the tower with what looked like glowdust and countless candles were burning everywhere.
"WE SUMMON POTEMA!"
The witches were practically screaming now. It was obvious that they were desperate to finish the ritual.
Bishop's arrow shot one of them instantly. The woman slumped down to the ground and the light dissipated from her hands. The orb shook and rumbled menacingly in response and the other witches seemed to somewhat redouble their efforts as the beams shooting from their hands thickened.
Aeyrin rushed forward, slamming her mace into the flank of one of the witches as she hurried towards the best vantage point for her Shout. The witches weren't attacking them, but it was still in their best interest to make things as quick as possible.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The witches flew into the air and over the low ledge around the tower, falling all the way down to their certain deaths. Only one was remaining and that one got hit with another arrow just as Aeyrin finished her Shout.
The orb rumbled and shook again without the beams coursing into it. It looked like it was going to explode.
They all lowered themselves onto the stone floor of the tower instinctively, but instead, the orb dissipated a few moments later.
The cavern was eerily quiet now.
"That… that was it, right? They didn't manage to… summon anything?" Aeyrin looked around uncertainly. There was an odd charged atmosphere around them. But… that might have been from the amount of dangerous magic still lingering in the air.
"I don't see anything… I guess something would have happened if they succeeded, right?" Bishop looked around with the same uncertainty.
He was right though.
Something would have surely happened.
…
The uneasiness was quickly replaced by satisfaction at the amount of magical trinkets, soul gems and other interesting loot they found. Those would definitely fetch a lot of drakes. Unfortunately, there was no Wall. In fact, some of the architecture didn't even look Nordic – as if someone built over the ancient structures.
They went back towards the city after some quick healing and a brief look around the cavern. There was no more reason to stay and they were eager for some food and rest at the Skeever, right after they talked to Elisif.
Just as they approached the gate, however, they were stopped by one of the guards.
"Lady Dragonborn," he inclined his head towards her politely. "Sir Casavir asked us to give you a message when you return to the city. He would like you to come see him at Castle Dour."
Bishop predictably groaned in annoyance instantly.
It was pretty late already though. And Aeyrin was kind of looking forward to some food and rest, rather than meeting Divines-knew-how-many people from his contingent. And they would all likely want to discuss her being the Dragonborn again.
And after what happened in Windhelm… she was strangely wary of entering the Legion's main base. For some reason, she felt like she didn't want to be anywhere near any more soldiers, no matter the side they were on.
"Could you please give him a message from me?" she gave the man a wry look.
"I… suppose," he shrugged.
"Just tell him we returned late and needed to recover from our quest. And… maybe ask him to meet me after lunch at the Skeever tomorrow?"
Bishop's groan did not sound any happier as the guard nodded. At least the man finally let them past him and opened the city gates.
"You know what, princess? How about you go to the Palace yourself while I get us a room and order some food," he rubbed the back of his head after they entered the city proper. He knew it was irrational and paranoid, but being at the Palace again somewhat rattled him. It's been ages – nobody would recognize him. And the thing was probably already long forgotten anyway.
But still… he got so nervous while they were there before.
The guards seemed to be looking at him constantly.
Some people did, at times, tell him that he was the spitting image of his father, unfortunately. There was a chance someone would make the connection because of that only.
He couldn't help the paranoia and anxiousness. Solitude seemed to bring it out in him.
"You alright?" Aeyrin gave him a worried look, checking him over with her eyes.
"Sure… just a little sore. You go on ahead, sweetness."
…
Bishop fell on the bed unceremoniously after the ample dinner, groaning as his sore muscles and rattled bones finally got some much needed rest.
Aeyrin returned from the Palace shortly after they parted, leaving him barely enough time to wash up in the baths. She didn't bring any reward money. Apparently, Elisif was so horrified at what almost happened, that she decided to think on an appropriate reward for stopping the conjurers and sending for them later. Whatever it was, it would likely be something beyond a few drakes.
"Tired, old man?" Aeyrin giggled at him. She dropped her pack by the door and crawled onto the bed next to him.
"Careful how you speak to your elders, sweetness. You might get a spanking," he smirked at her as she stretched alongside him with another giggle, planting a gentle kiss onto the side of his neck.
Her hands snuck under his tunic momentarily before she draped it over his head with some difficulty – he seemed unwilling to move to allow this action. When she managed to get rid of the shirt, she rested her hand on his chest and gently stroked over it for a while, earning a contented sigh from him.
"Turn over," she said after a while, before he actually managed to fall asleep from the calm ambiance.
"Yeah… I don't think it's gonna work very well if I turn over," he smirked at her weakly.
She shook her head. Always only one thing on his mind…
He obeyed her regardless, after a while, with palpable effort and several choice curse words. His muscles were now feeling all the more sore after the brief relaxation.
She straddled his upper thighs right after and laid her hands on his shoulders, rubbing into his skin firmly.
He groaned into the bedsheets when she started to massage his sore back. He could feel the pleasant warmth of magic emanate from her hands from time to time, but mostly she just ran them over his tight muscles with a firm soothing touch.
"Fuck… that feels good…" he grunted into the sheets again as his muscles slowly relaxed under her ministrations.
"It better. Took me so long to learn to do this right…" she chuckled.
"They taught you to do this at the… hnng … fuck… at the temple?"
"Of course. It's a healing technique. It's not usually performed for the public though… it's not like the injuries the massages help are life-threatening and we need to prioritize more urgent issues," she ran her hands over his flanks before she continued by kneading his lower back.
"So… you… mhh… practiced on a bunch of… old dried up priests?" he snickered at her. His face was still buried in the sheets and he periodically let out grunts of both relief and pleasure.
"No. On the other initiates. We were taught all the healing techniques together and we practiced on each other. It was efficient."
"I thought… you were discouraged from… mmh… temptation and shit…" he scoffed in between his groans.
"It's healing. You're the one who's making… those noises. I'm just touching your back!" she shook her head at him. None of the initiates made this sound so… dirty.
"Yeah right… like none… fuck… none of the little initiates… got… got any ideas..." he smirked, but there was an oddly morose undertone in his voice.
"Again… not everyone thinks about that all the time," she shook her head at him once more while her hands began to slowly move off his back in their last gentle strokes.
She raised herself on her knees, ready to dismount him, but he used the loss of pressure on his thighs to flip over again. His hands grabbed her around her hips instantly and pressed her back down onto him.
"That's cute. But, yeah, they do. Especially when a pretty girl has her hands all over them…" he chuckled at her and his hands started stroking down over her thighs and backside pointedly. "And don't tell me you're done with the 'healing'! I'm sore all over, princess."
She rolled her eyes at him, but moved further up to straddle his hap and pressed herself tightly to him. He ran his hands under the hems of her shirt instantly, draping it over her head before he threw it somewhere onto the floor of their room.
She leaned down on him and pressing her body against his, her lips on his neck and the scratchy stubble tickling her lips tantalizingly. He groped at her backside immediately in response while his hands occasionally snaked down below the fabric of her clothes or playfully pinched her through them, making her jerk her body a writhe on top of him.
The passion overwhelmed them quickly and the calm atmosphere turned frantic and intense in a matter of seconds. They rolled around on the bed, getting rid of each other's clothes hectically as they continued to explore each other more with every touch.
Any lingering aches, uneasiness from the dungeon or concerns over events long past dissipated in seconds.
Getting lost in this was the best cure for everything.