CHAPTER 9: GATHERING STORM
Two ghostly wolves jogged down the narrow mountain path. One of them was slightly smaller than the other, but equally graceful and strong. Their paws left no marks on the freshly-fallen snow. The white veil was first broken by their summoners, who walked right behind the wolves. The sight made Lucy's heart burst from pride. She hadn't just been able to conjure a full-grown wolf, but it had also existed for a while now. There had been many dogs in Helgen, and if she listened closely, her wolf sounded just like a dog. Until it howled.
The mountain pass was coming to an end. They had already passed the highest point of the road, and walking downhill made Lucy's shins ache. She could feel her toes again, for the temperature rose as the stone walls around them grew lower. Full-grown pines replaced the dry scrubs, and from some places, Lucy could see the autumn colours of the Rift blazing on the horizon. After yesterday's storm, she welcomed the warmth with open arms.
Natsu's wolf was the first to expire. Suddenly, it let out a tiny whimper and dissolved into the crispy midday air, leaving nothing behind. Lucy's halted, looking to its side where its companion had just been. Timidly putting its ears back, it vanished as it followed Natsu's wolf into Oblivion.
"Good job, Lucy!" the mage cheered, smiling. Lucy answered his smile – in fact, she was already smiling.
Lucy had been too exhausted to wield the enchanted ring properly when they tested it yesterday. She had been able to summon a tiny pup and cast a little flame, but that was pretty much it. After a relatively good night's sleep, she understood how to channel the expanded magicka into her spells. With Erza's approval, they had trained since they left the cave this morning. The sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the day had passed by in a blink of an eye.
"How should I use a familiar in a battle?" Lucy asked. She had to wait for a while for her magicka to regenerate until she could use it again. While Natsu could cast a spell after another before exhausting himself, Lucy felt drained after a single summon.
"Well, first you gotta figure out if someone is being hostile towards you, and you have to make that decision quickly. If you encounter a wolf pack or a bear, it's safe to say that always summon a familiar right ahead. Animals handle each other better than humans do," Natsu explained, gazing into the distance. "If it seems that they won't attack you, then just calmly move on. But if they show signs of aggression, grab your bow and prepare to fight. The same strategy works with humans, except that it's easier to figure out their intentions. A travelling caravan? Let them be. A bandit troupe? Be ready to kill."
"Makes sense," Lucy answered. "So, I'd better stay behind with my bow?"
"Exactly. The familiar keeps them busy in close range, while you can aim for the throat."
Lucy nodded. She had tried ranged battle yesterday, and it hadn't ended too well. First, her arrow had almost hit the back of Natsu's head. Second, she had been surprised from behind. She'd never leave her back unguarded again, but otherwise, the strategy sounded logical. It would be safer to keep her distance from the next enemy they would encounter, but Lucy hoped they would be out of the mountains before that happened. The cold made her fingers shaky.
"Should I have a dagger, too?" Lucy asked. She had been in awe when Natsu had killed the troll with his dagger. For a moment, she had just stared at the troll's blood spraying on his face, forgetting everything else… and ignored the third troll that grabbed her from behind.
"Maybe," the mage said, feeling his blade was still in place. "We'll find you one. It's handy if you get too close to an enemy. It's fast to grab, unlike a bow, but it's no use if you're against someone with a greatsword. Or a warhammer. Damn, I hate warhammers..."
"Got hit by any?"
Natsu grinned. "Dropped one on my leg. Had an ugly bruise for months."
Lucy wondered if Natsu ever had a moment when he didn't have a bruise or a cut somewhere. She had known him only for a few days, but had already seen how drawn he was to danger. Like a luna moth attracted to a candle, but never too close to the flame. Having his execution cancelled due to the first dragon attack in centuries? That man had insane luck. Lucy was glad some of his luck had reached her, too.
"Did you have some bad dreams again?" Natsu asked, waking Lucy from her thoughts. She blinked as she realised she had been unintentionally staring at the mage. Already guessing why he asked, she turned her head away, ashamed of herself. She had been screaming again in her sleep.
"I had…" she admitted shyly, her voice dying as the dream surfaced in her mind. "It was of the woman I killed in Embershard mine. She came back to haunt me. Just when I thought I'd escaped her, I ran to a troll. The dream ended when it tore me in half."
During the daytime, she felt almost fine, but the terrors crept into her dreams. When she focused on surviving through the moment, she couldn't think about what happened the day before. However, grief was persistent, a dark cloud of mist around her, almost impossible to see through. Only the silhouette of the College showed through the fog like a beacon of light.
"Don't you have nightmares?" Lucy asked when the mage didn't say anything.
He shrugged. "Not anymore. But used to. They stopped when I hit my head pretty hard. Fell down the stairs in Labyrinthian."
Lucy furrowed her brows in slight disbelief. "Sounds great," she said, despite her doubts. He had a scar on his forehead that blended to his hairline, proving it had truly happened, but had he really lost his dreams? Somehow, Lucy struggled to believe it.
"Don't try it," Natsu chuckled, but switched the subject quickly. "But let's try this. Grab your bow." Lucy had noticed yesterday how he asked about her dreams but didn't carry the conversation any further. Maybe he cared but didn't know how to help. Maybe distracting her was his way to help.
The mage halted, prompting Lucy to do the same before he conjured a flame atronach ahead of them. A feminine figure made entirely from fire hovered above the ground, idly waiting for something to happen. Lucy didn't really like where that was going. The last time Natsu had used his atronachs in training, he had pissed off a bear. Though there were no signs of bears in the mountain pass, Lucy didn't want to encounter any more trolls. But she did as he told, reaching for her bow and arrows. 'I asked him to be my teacher, after all, so here goes...'
"Hold the bow in one hand and summon a familiar with your free hand. My flame guy will attack your wolf, and while they're at it, you shoot at the atronach."
Lucy released the bow from the straps and picked one arrow from the quiver. She gathered them in her right hand, careful not to drop them. Glancing over her shoulder, she checked if Erza was fine with their training. The warrior walked far behind them, but Lucy could still see the frown on her face. But Erza wouldn't hit her if something happened, wouldn't she?
"What if that thing attacks me after it's done with my wolf?" she asked with a meek voice which made her realise her lack of confidence. A bad feeling churned in her stomach.
"I'll banish it back to Oblivion before it can hurt you. Go ahead. Nothing will go wrong. I train with my atronachs all the time. It's not like they mind some horseplay every now and then."
Hesitantly, Lucy called for the wolf in her mind before collecting magic in her left hand. Building the connection to Oblivion was harder now, for half of her focus was on holding the bow. Purple light sparked on her palm, circling for a moment before she cast it in front of her. A gate formed from the light, letting an ethereal wolf enter the world. It barked as a greeting. 'Is it the same familiar every time? Should I give it a name?'
"Go, Plue!" she shouted, pointing at the fire atronach. It was just a random name, but she liked how it sounded. Upon her command, the wolf bolted forward. With her hand freed, she nocked an arrow and drew the string to her cheek. She was growing used to the strength the bow required, but it gave her very little time to aim until her arm tired. Lucy released, and missed her target miserably.
"Plue?" Natsu wondered while he looked at the wolf. The beast grabbed the atronach's arm between its jaws, fangs tearing into the flames.
Lucy ignored Natsu's comment as she grabbed another arrow. Realising she had forgotten her stance, she positioned her feet and prepared to draw. She released. The string gave a vigorous slap on her arm, but the arrow found the atronach's chest. The floating creature spun around from the impact, and the happy rush of success made Lucy forget the pain.
Lucy stole a glance at Natsu. He leaned his weight on his left leg with hands shoved in pockets, seeming a bit too relaxed, considering they were training with Daedric creatures. Starting to draw another arrow, she heard her wolf's whimpers as the atronach shot a fireball at it. Her fingers turned sloppy, and the arrow slipped from her hands as her familiar was caught in an explosion.
"Damn," she mumbled, lowering her gaze to see the arrow at her shoes.
Right before she crouched to pick it up, the mage shouted, "Watch out!" and swooped at her, pushing her out of a fireball's way with his body. She dropped the bow, shielding her face with her hands. The fireball exploded right where she had just been, and Lucy screamed as the pressure wave threw them further into the snow.
Lucy peeked through her fingers as Natsu rolled back on his feet to restore his balance. The flame atronach swung its arm back, ready to throw another fireball at her. He stood up to protect her from the angered Daedra.
"Bad flame boy, bad!" he yelled and banished the creature with a snap of his fingers. The purple gate appeared again and sucked in the atronach, then it was gone.
Lucy exhaled heavily, her racing heartbeat slowly starting to calm down. 'I should've listened to my guts,' she thought. Natsu turned around, his face flushing white as he saw the Companion behind them. From his mere expression, Lucy could tell Erza wasn't happy.
"Sorry!" Natsu shouted at the warrior, like she was the one who needed an apology. A long, scary silence was her answer, enough to let the two know the training was over for today.
Lucy helped herself back to her feet, wiping the snow off her leathers. She stared at the mage under her brows as she collected her bow, glad to see it wasn't damaged. "Sorry about that," Natsu finally mumbled as he noticed Lucy's blaming glare.
"You're the worst teacher ever," Lucy muttered under her breath while securing the bow back to her back.
Natsu just cocked his head, grinning. "Told you so."
Lucy smirked, about to answer, but Erza's stern voice interrupted her.
"Alright, fools, look at those pillars," the warrior pointed forward with her sword.
Lucy tilted her head to see two tall columns framing the road, forming a gateway between the mountain walls. Built by the ancient Nords, their pillar tops were carved in the shape of an eagle's head. "We'll be in Rift soon enough. We'll be stopping at the abandoned alchemist's shack by the road, but only briefly. We'll be in Ivarstead at nightfall if we hurry."
Lucy's eyes brightened. An alchemist's shack? She hoped there would be books of alchemy she could read or even a lab she could test. She had collected some mountain flowers and snowberries, maybe she could make a potion from them. Natsu would surely help her. He had his own way of doing things, but Lucy had a feeling he wasn't as bad as she let him know. Alchemy couldn't be as dangerous as playing with atronachs.
"Let's keep going, then," Natsu said, adjusting his backpack before running downhill. Lucy followed him, and when she passed below the stone pillars, the tightness in her throat eased. They were out of the mountains, and still alive. The thought of a warm bed kept her going through the exhaustion. If everything went right, they could spend the next night in an inn.
Only if everything went right.
Erza sighed when her travelling companions began their alchemy experiments like two small, overjoyed children. That's how she referred to them in her mind, children she had to watch over. She had promised to escort them through the mountain route, and she was glad to have kept that promise. The trolls would have been the girl's undoing, at least, if not the mage's too. And now, when the mountains were already behind them, Erza was unsure what to do next.
The alchemist's shack was a small, run-down house, providing very little shelter with glassless windows and a broken roof. Gladly, the weather was pleasant and warm. Sun shone from a cloudless sky, enchanting the autumn colours all around them. There was a garden behind the building. An alchemy lab stood next to the wooden wall, already occupied by a curious girl and her haphazard teacher.
If she left them on their own, Erza doubted they would make it to the College. It was her job to protect and help the people of Skyrim. Leaving them on their fates would be against her morals. Even though she preferred to travel alone, it was no longer safe. Bears and trolls and bandits she could fight, but what about a dragon? What would her sword alone do to a flying, overgrown lizard? Those two had more experience about dragons than her. She had never even seen one. They had, and lived to tell about it.
Maybe she should stick with them a little longer so she could live through it, too.
Their jubilant chatter faded as Erza withdrew into her thoughts. She leaned against a birch and raised her eyes to the sky, wiping her bright red hair from her face. While her female fellows kept their hair tightly braided, Erza liked to keep hers free most of the time. She only braided it when she knew she was going to a battle. Seeing the crimson strands on the edges of her vision reminded her of the one who added 'Scarlet' to her name.
Jellal.
Her original plan had been to reach the alchemist's shack yesterday evening and spend the night there. For particular reasons, she had fallen behind her travel schedule, but gladly the meeting was arranged for this afternoon anyway. She wasn't running late yet. He didn't appreciate any delays, or worse, misses. If Erza's schedule was tight, his was a killer.
Assassins were busy these days.
"I'll be gone for a moment," Erza said, her words going for deaf ears. "And please, do not destroy anything."
"Yeah, whatever," the mage mumbled as he crammed more mountain flowers into the distiller. Lucy didn't even hear her as Natsu continued to tell about the properties of their chosen ingredients.
Erza shrugged, quickly turning away. Due to certain conflicts between their ways of life, Jellal and her had appointed several different meeting places all across Skyrim. The shack was one of them, but they had a backup place in case the first had any extra pairs of eyes nearby. And there were almost always extra eyes. How much she hoped she could just bring him to Jorrvaskr, introduce him to her friends, take him to her bed, but no. That jus couldn't happen.
Erza belonged to the Circle, a faction of the Companions consisting of the highest-ranking and the most respected members of the guild. What would they think if they'd know the occupation of the man her heart has chosen long ago? But as a Circle member, she had grown used to having some secrets.
Her 'troll check' last night had been only a cover. Jellal's conjured owl worked as their courier, and she had gone outside just in case the bird would appear. It was a habit she had formed past the years, even though Jellal didn't send letters too often. But when he did, it made her happy, despite having to burn the letters immediately after reading them. One time Aela caught her in the night at Skyforge and asked why she was smiling. Erza had lied, answering that her childhood friend from Cyrodiil sent her a letter. Jellal had told his parents he'd be off to the Imperial City when he left home nearly a decade ago. That's where they still believed their son was.
They had been in contact a fortnight ago when Erza had found and brought the Dragonstone to Farengar, Whiterun's court wizard. As Farengar had deemed, the Dragonstone was a map of the ancient dragon burial mounds. The court wizard had been studying the dragon lore for the past few years, but until this day it had been hit-and-miss. A hint of a treasure hidden in Bleak Falls Barrow got his study moving. He had needed a brute to go search for it, and Erza picked the job mostly for her own reasons. Or, Jellal's reasons. He had his own investigation going on as well, and Erza trusted him more capable to solve the mysteries of dragons.
Erza had informed Jellal of the discovery and sent him a copy of the map. He had a contract in Riften around that time, and he told he'd check the burial sites of that area before heading back home. Erza had planned to go straight to Kynesgrove's mound after completing another job, but the plan changed when she had been returning to Whiterun, a late evening on the 17th of Last Seed.
The city gates had been closed, and she almost had to bribe her way past the guards. The word spread like wildfire. Ravens had been sent all across Skyrim to carry the message that Helgen had burned to the ground. Not due to the civil war, but due to a dragon. Erza had sensed the panic in the air, as if the entire country was holding her breath.
Jellal had contacted her the same night, asking her to change her route. She had immediately began a journey towards Helgen to look for any clues, and meet him before going to Kynesgrove. Clues she had found indeed, the most important of them being the fire wizard and his newfound apprentice, who'd witnessed it all with their own eyes.
An autumn wind swayed the trees around her as she walked across the forest. Colourful leaves rained down, dancing in a whirl before covering the grass. Erza stopped briefly to inhale the calming, earthy smell. It reminded her of harvest. She let her eyes soak in the beauty of nature as little birds chirped their song on the branches above her. Finally, a moment of peace.
The meeting place was near a giant's kettle off the road, sheltered behind spruce at least a century old. Her heart raced in her chest and butterflies fluttered in her stomach the closer she got. While their relationship was full of hardships, the anticipation of a new meeting felt always as precious. A silent scoff of a horse sounded in the air, sending shivers down Erza's spine.
In the tree's shades sat a man in dark robes. A black, noble stallion stood behind him, scooping the ground with its hoof. Jellal's head tilted slightly towards her as she appeared, his features hiding under a large hood. He didn't greet her. It wasn't his style.
"Who were those?" he asked.
Erza pinched her brows. As she had guessed, he had been watching them. Jellal was a person who could see everyone while no one could see him. Nobody in the village had wanted to play hide-and-seek with him when they were kids. If he was the seeker, he found everyone immediately. If he was the hider, he stayed hidden until nightfall, and her father had to go calling for him to come back home.
"Survivors from Helgen," Erza answered as she sat down on a rock next to him. "They're on their way to Winterhold. I escorted them through the mountain pass."
Jellal nodded, not giving any further questions.
"Ironic, isn't it. A dragon appears when we make the first significant discovery. And how come it be… the burial sites of the east were all empty."
"Empty?"
He lifted his gaze from the glacial pothole to her, revealing the tattoo around his right eye. It had adorned his face since early childhood. Growing up in the small village of Rorikstead, he had always gained a lot of attention for his tattoo, as well as his bright-blue hair. Now, he made sure those prominent features stayed in the shades. Only a single blue strand showed under his hood.
"Yes. It wasn't just a single dragon. There are more of them now. As the prophecy says, the dragons are coming back to life. Something is bringing them back. But I have no idea what that could be. There's no conjurer in this land capable of raising a dragon from the dead."
When she had been a child, an elder of their village had told them the story of the world's end. The prophecy had occupied Jellal's mind since childhood. While it had intrigued him, it had frightened her. Back in the wheat fields of Rorikstead, when the folklore of an impending apocalypse had scared Erza out of her wits, Jellal had promised her that wouldn't happen. He'd keep her safe even if he had to stand in between her and the one trying to end the world.
Her heart had clung to that promise all these years.
"I thought so," Erza whispered grimly, recalling the conversation she had with Natsu and Lucy the day before yesterday. "And with no Dragonborn around, we have no hope to defeat them."
Jellal's eyes grew grim. He had Imperial ancestry, and very little faith in Nord legends, or according to his own words, Nord nonsense. Despite being raised by his family, Erza never abandoned the beliefs of her people. In ancient Nord lore, the Dragonborn was a mortal man born with the blood and the soul of a dragon. Able to absorb a slain dragon's soul, the Dragonborn was the only one who could permanently kill a dragon.
"We don't know that yet. Anyone could be a Dragonborn without knowing. Even you, dear."
The man chuckled. "I doubt that. What matters is that the dragons are real, and there will be more of them. Who knows if the skies will be swarming with dragons soon? Now that they are real, we need to find a way to slay them. That's our next step."
Erza shook her head, trying to cast away the image of a thousand dragons covering the sun. "Don't you want to know what the survivors had to say?" Erza asked. "They might know something important."
"Those kids? All I need to know is that there was complete devastation. It will be the fate of every city and settlement if we can't stop whatever is going on. Nothing but ashes will remain of the world as we know it."
The warrior zoned out for a moment, staring into the pothole in front of them. There was water on the bottom of it, glimmering in the sunlight. Fear strangled her throat, but she swallowed her childhood nightmare, clinging to their mutual decision to prevent that from becoming reality.
Erza raised her eyes to Jellal's. "What's our next step?"
"The burial mounds have been emptied in a systematic order, at regular intervals of time. If my calculations are correct, the next would be Kynesgrove. Whatever is happening to the dragons, you should find out there. Be sure to report me as soon as you get to know."
She nodded.
"Where are you going now?"
"Home, to receive my payment," Jellal answered, evoking bitterness in Erza's heart, knowing he'd never call Rorikstead his home again. "So many contracts, so little time..."
Erza smirked. "You have people to kill, my dear. Best get to it."
There was no changing him. Even though she sometimes hoped Jellal would have joined the Companions like her, she couldn't blame him in the end. Jorrvaskr wasn't a place for a man so extraordinary as him.
The warrior snifled, the fast departure making her emotional. And with that sniff, she smelled something burning. Jellal noticed that too.
"What's that smoke?" Jellal asked. Erza turned her head towards the direction it came from. The alchemist's shack was that way.
"Un–fucking–surprising," she cursed and stood up. She gave a quick kiss on Jellal's cheek, and left running. After a few steps, she looked back, her heart sinking to her stomach.
Jellal was already gone.
