Chapter 4: Do Bad Well
"Don't you think you should wear something before we go through the town?" Serana asked.
Ashes looked over her shoulder, confused. "What do you mean?"
Serana's cheeks heated up for the fire mage. She refused to answer and unravelled the sash around her, tossing it to Ashes. The vampire wasn't going to walk in the company of a woman who may as well have been in the nude. Rather than taking it in silence and with grace, Ashes grinned, and her teasing was written all over her face.
"I find it ironic that a vampire is embarrassed over a little bit of skin."
This was not the offensive loudness and brightness Serana wanted back.
"I'd hate to see what you think a lot of skin looks like," the vampire scoffed softly.
Ashes laughed and secured her sash back on her belt.
Morthal was a dreary and somewhat unimpressive town. At least the weather here was more suitable to travel, with thick clouds blocking the sun. Serana kept her composure and hadn't done anything that would call for attention, but didn't know whether she should distance herself from her travelling companion or not. As soon as they rolled into town, there were a lot of eyes on Ashes. Serana cast an illusion spell on herself to appear more humanoid among them. Something seemed to be off in this town. The villagers. Tension bubbled in Serana's shoulders and she wandered close to the fire mage, who gave her the side eye.
"You feel it too?" Ashes murmured.
Serana nodded.
The fire mage clicked her tongue. "We need time."
"Time? Why?"
Ashes flicked her head in a delicate shake. Her gaze centred on a lone slender individual in hooded robes that leaned against a porch post, staring at them. Serana could smell the fire mage's guard hiking up when the stranger pushed off the post, heading towards them. Hyper-vigilant, Ashes set her fist aflame and the vampire took a few safe steps back to subdue the queasiness that swallowed her stomach. The stranger held up her hands in a non-threatening display and chuckled.
"Ho there, friend, I mean no harm. Not yet."
A delicate, soft-spoken accent. Where did she hail from?
"I've a message for you."
The stranger pulled her hood back. A human with incredibly fair hair and skin more so than a Nord, but indistinguishable features like an elf. A Breton, Serana guessed. She felt sorry for the small woman. It was still unsure what era this was, but that the Breton's blood and features still bore striking resemblance to the elven slave masters must have been a terrible reminder every time the Breton looked in a mirror. Was the High King ever successful in his bid to free the long-tormented kinsmen of High Rock?
Ashes' flames fizzled into smoke in seconds, and her face lit up. Serana wasn't sure what to make of it when Ashes had charged to embrace the stranger, nearly knocking over the significantly smaller woman. The poor stranger's face was trapped in Ashes' arm pit. Not a place Serana envied. She forced herself to look away when there was an uncomfortable hollow feeling that plucked her nerves.
"It's good to see you again, Éclair!" Ashes yelled with glee.
Serana smiled even when she had to subdue her cringe over the fire mage's volume, something irritated passerbys didn't restrain themselves of over the public display. Loud and bright, offensively so, even when Ashes didn't mean to. It kind of made Serana wish that she could be as comfortable and unapologetic herself.
"And you as well, Am-"
The sudden cut off, and muffled surprise, pulled Serana's eyes back to the women. She didn't hide her frown when she saw how the fire mage had her hand over Éclair's mouth. The Breton's brows met in annoyance. Ashes' whisper hadn't gone undetected with the vampire's keen hearing.
"Ashes is my name."
"What? No it's not." Éclair muffled unwillingly into the fire mage's palm. "Have you contracted brain rot, or hit your head again?"
Éclair tried to pry off the Nord's hand but was unsuccessful, to which she hailed utter gibberish in her futile attempt to express her irritation. She rolled her eyes and caved in.
"How did you find me anyways?" Ashes asked.
Éclair's translucent eyes brightened. Her arm shot out the side to point in the distance. Ashes and Serana twisted to look, where the black sooty columns of thick smoke still blotted out the sky. Serana tried to recover before she chuckled. And failed. The fire mage gave her a dry look.
"Oh, yeah. Very funny," she sneered.
"I mean, it is kind of impossible to miss," the vampire teased back. "You may as well have marked where you were on the map."
"I figured you'd come here to recuperate after destroying the world," Éclair continued, still muffled.
She was freed and Ashes seemed to be second-guessing that kindness when Éclair's smirk was as big as could be, but within the boundaries of gracefulness. The more Serana read into this particular mortal, the easier it was to see that there was an opposite dynamic of sorts going on between the two women.
"Where is your travelling gear and sword?" Éclair inquired. "You had a lot more on you the last time we parted ways."
Last time. How long ago might this have been? Serana needed to keep her guard and illusion spell up, lest Ashes' friendly ties were weak. The vampire didn't need her true identity exposed for the town's mob to lynch her. She didn't think Ashes was the type to hug, though. Not the type to hug vampires perhaps. The fire mage laughed nervously and shrugged. Her, nervous?
"I maybe might have lost it all. And the sword broke on me." Ashes looked away and muttered. "It must've been weak metal."
"Try again. I believe you mean you made the sword weaker and broke it." Éclair sighed. "When are you going to learn? That costs coin, Am-"
Ashes' palm rushed back to cover her mouth with renewed vigour. Serana tried to belittle the sting and crossed her arms, looking away to watch the smoke in the distance.
"I've managed just fine."
Éclair let out a strangled grunt, and the two had a childish fight. Childish as predicted of Ashes. The Breton triumphed and pulled away.
"I get it, 'Ashes'. Now let's get that hot air out of your head. Come with me to the inn, let's get some real food in you. I've already rented a room so that we can talk in private."
"Is this about that message?" Ashes asked.
Éclair hadn't answered and waved for them to follow her. Serana wondered why there wasn't any suspicion or questions surrounding her presence, and she wasn't sure if she was looking to find out. She frowned at the town exit of which she should have continued to travel through. She had her own mission. It wouldn't hurt to stay and rest for a few minutes though. She wasn't really thrilled to return home. She was grateful when they'd entered the inn, for her energy hiked back up and made it easier to sustain her spell. There was less of a cloud over her head and the fog that encased her mind faded away.
Heads turned to them and Serana stiffened. She had to keep reminding herself that her illusion spell was up, and that they were staring for different reasons. She hid her grimace when drunken men openly yipped and leered at them. Ashes seemed to thrive on it, but in a different way. She flipped her finger and set it ablaze.
"Lay one finger on us and I promise I'll burn it right off," the fire mage grumbled.
Éclair chuckled, soft and reserved. It was a little hard to hear her. Something Serana sometimes wished with the fire mage.
"Ever the charmer."
"Don't deny that you're thinking it too!"
The Breton smiled slyly. "I would never be so rude and crude."
"Then your memory is short," Ashes huffed.
"Or your imagination is long. Come on, this way."
Something wasn't right. Though the Breton was small and unassuming, Serana's guard refused to ease. She knew better than to underestimate someone who put effort into being underestimated. This one harboured intelligence and her eyes were sharp, however gentle they appeared. That translucent colour made Serana feel like she was boarded off and looking at a mirror. When they entered a room, it was filled with many personal comforts and travelling supplies. Too much for one person to carry.
Éclair turned around with a subtle smirk tugging the corner of her mouth. Her gaze was fixated on Serana.
"You may relax and dispel your illusion spell, now."
Serana tensed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You may mistake me for my appearance, but not my ability. I can see you for what you really are." Éclair shrugged and bounced her head in Ashes' direction. "I don't trust my friend with herself, but I do trust her judgment. She would not be in the company of a vampire without good reason."
"It's alright," Ashes murmured.
Who she was saying that for was a mystery, for she had already gotten down to the business of helping herself to food and supplies.
Serana reluctantly dispelled her spell, but she kept close to the door just in case if this was a trap. She didn't trust them. She couldn't with an Elder Scroll strapped to her back.
"Right. To business now." Éclair opened a drawer and took out a thick rolled up parchment. "Your new orders."
"Should I be here?" Serana asked aloud. She didn't mean to.
Ashes shrugged. "I see no harm. You're new to this era and have yet to learn of the poison coursing the land."
"The poison?" Serana mouthed under her breath.
She didn't know what to do and felt awkward around Éclair, who acted as if it were everyday they had a friendly vampire hanging around. Serana tried to get a look at the seal of what appeared to be a missive when Ashes unrolled it. The fire mage sighed.
"The Thalmor will recognize me now, and you know how I am with infiltration. What is the General thinking? They'll call off the truce and march to war if they-"
"They don't know you're affiliated with the Empire," Éclair explained. "They only know you're affiliated with the Blades. And those two are enemies anyways."
Serana glanced at the fire mage. This woman was affiliated with whatever Empire ruled this era now? It was hard to imagine her as part of any kind of army when she didn't fight with any kind of discipline, but rather reckless abandon. Who were the Blades though? By the sounds of it, perhaps a special splinter group from the Empire, or a bunch of sellswords. It wouldn't make sense that they were a splintered group if Éclair made it sound as if they were separate. These 'Blades' could have been a little more creative with their name, but perhaps the vagueness of it all was meant to mislead people into interpreting what they would.
Ashes burned the missive in her hand. The pungent smell of burned parchment flooded the room, and Serana grimaced when it seared the insides of her nostrils.
"And if the Thalmor launch an attack on Skyhaven in retaliation?" Ashes asked.
"Then warn them so they may take precautionary measures. The General stressed the importance of this mission, and there is valuable intel that may turn the tide of the next war."
Serana leaned against the door with a frown. "War. As usual. I see nothing's changed since when I was last awake."
Éclair's sharp eyes fell on her, and there was that subtle smirk again. She wasn't going to fool the vampire with her sweet appearance anymore.
"And when might that be?"
"During High King Vrage's rule," Serana shrugged casually.
She wasn't sure what to make of the response she got when both womens' eyes widened in shock at her.
"The First Era?" Ashes almost choked on her whisper.
Serana was wary to ask, but it was high time to know and she was confident she'd get an answer from someone, if not Ashes.
"Yes. What era am I in now?"
"The Fourth," Éclair murmured. "You're over four thousand years old..." She looked at the fire mage. "Where did you find her?"
"I'm right here and I can speak for myself," Serana drawled. "I was locked in Dimhollow Crypt." She narrowed her eyes. "And it's my business as to why."
Nevermind the terrible blow she suffered upon learning how old she was. She was gone for a lot longer than mother planned. Over four thousand years? Had it really taken father that long to find her? Maybe there was hope yet that he has forgotten all about the prophecy then.
Ashes still looked stumped. Her jaw was dropped in a thoroughly amusing way. The rack of lamb hung uselessly in her hand. Éclair's rear found the bed. They wouldn't stop staring at Serana and she grew uncomfortable.
"Will you two stop looking at me like I'm some historical artifact?"
"But you are," Éclair blurted.
Ashes chuckled and playfully shoved the Breton by the shoulder. "Smooth. And you're always on my case for lacking tact?"
Colour splotched Éclair's pale cheeks and an apology crossed her face. It was so obvious she was buttering up because she saw a treasure trove of information in the vampire.
"Sorry, ah... Forgive me twice, I've not yet asked for your name, milady. Might I also humbly ask, have you ever met Ysgramor?"
The fire mage grinned when Serana groaned. "This is going to be a long day."
Educated to the point Serana's ears literally burned, she called it quits.
"That's enough history for today, thank you. I've a better grasp of the important events I've missed."
"There's no such thing as enough history to Éclair," Ashes teased.
She, for whatever reason, had a chef's hat resting over her eyes as she relaxed on one of the beds, ankles crossed, hands folded beneath her head. While she looked relaxed, the Breton looked the opposite.
"Don't get me wrong," Serana started. Her feet ached to be kicked up off the floor. "I love history too, and I love books, but this..."
"But there's so much history lost to interpretation!" Éclair enthused with grand hand gestures. "And not everything is recorded in the books, and some books have been lost or burned or-"
"Éclair," Ashes groaned. "We've had a long journey, and we still have a long way to go. Can't you pick her brains about it all tomorrow?"
"She's travelling with us?" Serana tried her best not to sound so exhausted by the idea itself.
The fire mage tipped the chef's hat up with her thumb, grinning. "Do I really need to answer that? I'll lend you advice: the only way to get rid of her now is if you kill her. And then set up wards or carry charms with you to make sure you keep her ghost at bay, or she'll haunt you for the rest of your life. I don't think that'd be fun for an immortal."
"I'm not that bad," Éclair huffed with a smile.
Serana was seriously considering the idea. The Breton's neck was looking tastier by the minute. Not something she'd admit out loud.
"If you two are heading to the coast, then I'll be along long enough until we reach Solitude," Éclair said. "General Tullius will be waiting for my report."
She came over and sat on the edge of the fire mage's bed and took off the chef's hat, holding it overhead. Ashes shot an annoyed look and reached to grab it, only for her wrist to be ensnared in a trap. Éclair frowned at the ghastly cauterized hole and tossed the hat aside. Even without saying anything, the fire mage rolled her eyes as if she knew what was coming.
"It's fine, Éclair," Ashes drawled.
The Breton looked over at Serana with that slippery sweet smile, as if it was hiding poison-coated fangs.
"Would you consider this as 'fine' if you treated your wounds like this, Serana?"
"Not at all."
Not like she needed to, with a vampire's boon in regeneration, but it was kind of Éclair to omit the fact in her roundabout way, even if it was just to prove something to Ashes.
"Oh, come on!" The fire mage groaned. Then grinned. "I've survived worse."
"Mm-hm. With the way you fight, that's not something to brag about." Éclair teased.
She cradled Ashes' hand in both of hers, where a gentle light pulsed in between the cracks of her fingers. The more this dynamic duo unravelled in front of Serana's eyes, the quicker she understood how such a pair could work. One was the dark horse, and the other the dainty flower. One relied on strength, the other relied on intellect. Serana couldn't help but wonder how much Bretons have grown over these past four thousand years, and whether or not they embraced their roots, even if it was steeped in cruelty at the hands of elves. Éclair kind of gave off the impression that she would be offended if she were to be asked something like that. Then again, she was friends with Ashes, who didn't seem apologetic by her lack of tact, among many other things.
"I vote we have some mead before we go to bed," Ashes said. She flexed her healed fist and, satisfied, beamed at her friend. "Thanks for looking out for me, as always."
Serana smiled when Éclair scoffed.
"Someone's got to, or else you'd be disfigured beyond recognition. Now, what's this about mead? You're too tired for history but you're not tired for drinks?"
"Is that a, what do you call it, those questions you already know the answer to?"
"Rhetorical question," the Breton drawled dryly.
"That's it!" Ashes beamed and snapped her fingers with the hand that was just healed.
Serana was positive that was just to irk the Breton some more. She shouldn't have, but she chuckled, and it enabled the grin plastered all over the fire mage's face.
"Quit bellyaching all over your face. I know you want to," Ashes prodded. She seemed to remember something, and she smiled sheepishly at Serana. "Uh, wanna join us?"
Serana gave a sort of half shrug. "I suppose." She poured her focus, which came a little easier now, to cast her illusion spell over herself again.
It wasn't like there was anything else she was going to do, though she kept her eye on the healthy stack of books of what she assumed was going to be Éclair's bed. For all the Breton's posturing as if she wasn't looking forward to the drinks, her actions said otherwise when she was the first to lead on the way out. Ashes shot a knowing smile over to the vampire and whispered, but it was one of those whispers that was more like loudly hissing words.
"She'll never admit it, but she's excited."
Éclair's hair snapped over her shoulder when she stuck her tongue out at the fire mage.
Despite having her guard up, Serana was significantly more relaxed now than alone with Ashes, and the friends provided entertainment. It called to the loneliness in the vampire though. She pushed it to the back of her mind and enjoyed their company now, for all that it was. She didn't sense any ulterior motives other than Éclair shooting those eyes at Serana as if she was a history book to be dissected and analyzed, chapter by chapter. The vampire wasn't ecstatic over the knowledge of her age but time had lost it's meaning long ago.
Ashes claimed a table and Éclair was the one to order their drinks, being the only one with coin. Serana stuck with the fire mage out of familiarity, and to avoid another round of questioning over what the Merethic Era was like. She was going to run out of answers soon enough before her lonely life would be unveiled and exposed, disappointing the Breton. It was out of Serana's hands.
A bard played a gentle song on the lute, and one of the bar maids swept along. Mugs thudded together as people chattered around them. Serana tried to ignore the way the fire mage fidgeted with her hands and drummed on the table, off-beat to the bard's song. The vampire crossed her arms and relaxed in her chair as comfortably as she could with the Elder Scroll wedged against her back, closing her eyes to tune in to the other sounds. Rain fell outside, muted as it whipped at what Serana remembered as old softwood splintered by weapons and weather.
"She's taking too long. I'll turn into a draugr by the time she comes back," Ashes' grumble pulled the vampire out of her mental tour.
Serana smiled to herself and said nothing. She looked around at the other patrons in the tavern when some conversations exploded with laughter. Her curiosity wondered what it must have been about and she tried to listen, but the rain picked up outside and thunder rumbled. The bard's lute was drowned out. People didn't seem to mind and still enjoyed themselves, perhaps a bit too much for some, and Serana wished she was anywhere but at that table with Ashes when nerves rustled over the fidgeting.
"So... You're pretty old."
Serana shot the fire mage a look. Ashes laughed nervously.
"I don't mean that in a bad way, of course. But... I mean, I can see Éclair has a good reason to be excited, I guess. How do you feel about it though?"
The vampire's brow hiked slightly. This path they were about to go on seemed intriguing.
"About what, specifically?"
They wouldn't get to travel that path. Éclair returned with a small keg and three mugs. Serana's refusal went unheard when Ashes cracked the keg open, her cheer thundering like the rumbles outside. The Breton's grace didn't last after a pint, and her flushed face made her look like a tomato compared to how pale her neck was. Serana caved in and helped herself to her drink, hiding her grimaces behind her mug when the bitter mead flooded her mouth. How did Ashes and Éclair enjoy this swill?
A man approached their table, and his reception wasn't friendly whatsoever. Within seconds, a fist was lit in fire, and a contained ball of sparks danced on Éclair's palm. Serana choked on her mead when she snorted with laughter over the way the man's eyes bulged, and he scurried away without a single word uttered between either party.
"You two sure know how to make friends," Serana teased.
Ashes grinned, drunken and sloppy. "We suck at being good. So we do bad well instead."
"Speak for yourself," Éclair scoffed with a soft smile.
"Oh? So what was that just now?" Ashes challenged, leaning forward as her grin grew.
"I introduced myself with polite hostility, in a delicate manner where he will never forget my name."
"Uh huh!"
Laughter exploded from the fire mage, and Serana shrunk in her seat with her smile to herself. She got to be part of a conversation with joy. Her curiosity was satisfied, and her amusement even more so. Éclair retained only some of her delicacy, but she was unravelling. Her robe fell open after she untied her belt and she unlaced the collar of her tunic. Even though the sparks dispersed, her fingers were still charged from it. Serana knew only because strands of the Breton's hair floated away when she propped a fist against the side of her head.
The thunder roared louder and there was a sharp crack in the sky. The tavern shook, and Ashes' shoulder pushed into Éclair, making her topple over in her chair until she fought back. She was overpowered, naturally, with her significantly smaller frame. That just wasn't fair. The underdog winning at anything was one of the vampire's favourite types of stories. Serana decided to lend a hand and pretended to drop her empty mug. She took aim at one of the chair legs and shot a sliver of ice at the corner of it to make it buckle away.
Ashes' yelp rang in the air and she fell over when the leg cracked off. Éclair burst in giggles, and Serana hid her smirk behind her mug. Ashes shot them both an indignant look when she climbed up on another chair, quickly narrowing her eyes on the vampire in suspicion. Serana played it calm and casual, void of all responsibility. It was perfectly reasonable for an old rickety chair to give out. Except she spotted shards of ice on the ground. The fire mage seemed somewhat obtuse, and she was drunk, so there was no way she'd figure it out.
Serana cried out and shot off the chair when it grew hot. So too did her cheeks from the embarrassing noise that came from her, and she glared when Ashes' fruity laughter exploded in the tavern again. The sounds were rich and contagious, and Serana doubled down on her effort to stop herself from smiling in reaction to it by biting her tongue. She spotted the tiny flame dancing in the palm and snapped her fingers to freeze the fire in it's place.
Ashes jumped in her skin, staring at the frozen flame in shock. Then her mischievous grin ignited to life and amber eyes zeroed in on the vampire with a silent challenge.
"Seems like Éclair and I aren't the only ones that do bad well."