Here's chapter 13. There's a mess, but for once, I ain't me!
With the sun hanging lower in the midafternoon sky, Yang looked down the hole that they had come upon. It was Nordic in design, a few scattered urns around its edge, with a dragon emblazed door leading inside.
"So, Dustman's Cairn? It's all underground?"
"Seems to be. Not scared are you?" Farkas laughed. "Scared of a little draugr, perhaps?"
Yang blew a raspberry at that. "Please. Me and my team went through Bleak Falls Barrow, killed at least a dozen draugr, and a bunch of spiders." She noticed his eyes widen at that and smirked. "Wonder if there's any spiders in here?"
"There aren't!" Farkas yelped, his voice a higher pitch. Upon seeing Yang's knowing face, he quickly tried to regain his composure. "Uh, I mean, there shouldn't be."
Yang chuckled and walked down and into the tomb. "Yeah, probably not."
Inside the first chamber, Yang immediately noticed a couple of mummified corpses laying on the ground near busted open coffins. Farkas looked forward and picked up a discarded shovel before setting it back down, a cautious look on his face.
"Looks like somebody's been digging. Tread lightly." Farkas pulled out his sword and nodded at Yang, directing her to take point.
Yang nodded in agreement and led the way down into the newly dug up hole. There were a few more slain draugr, fresh wounds decorating their bodies, but before Yang and Farkas could investigate further, more rose up and pulled their weapons out. Yang smiled and charged the nearest one, smashing it against the wall. Another tried to round on her with an axe, but she smacked the blade aside and uppercut the undead, snapping its head all the way to its back. One brought forth a frostbite spell and let it loose at Farkas, who seemed untroubled by the cold magick and sliced his sword through its body from shoulder to hip.
"Not gonna use that axe of yours?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"Eh, I prefer my fists. The axe is just a little extra oomph for the right occasion."
"Fair enough. Come on, let's keep going." They continued on, passing through a set of old doors and going further down into the tomb, entering a large room with a throne sitting at the head. Unfortunately, a large iron gate blocked the way forward. Farkas sheathed his blade and walked up to it, giving it a small nudge before shaking his head.
"Gate's locked. Let's look around, try to find a way to open it," Farkas suggested, walking over to the other side of the room.
While Farkas gazed around, Yang went forward and saw a lever set in the wall. Figuring it opened a gate at the other side, she pulled it, only for the gate directly behind her to slam shut.
"Uh, oops?"
Farkas walked over to her with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Now look what you've gotten yourself into."
"My bad." Yang shrugged and pulled the lever again, hoping it would raise the gate. When it didn't, Farkas sighed again.
"Yeah, don't worry about it. Just sit tight while I look for the release." As soon as he said that, however, several people came out from the next room, all wielding weapons that seemed shinier than steel should be. Farkas snarled and turned, drawing his greatsword just as they surrounded him.
"Uh oh. Farkas?!" Yang frantically started looking around the room in front of her, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Just stay calm, Yang." Farkas' reassuring did nothing to stop Yang's frantic state. Before Yang could respond, the armed men, faces full of hateful rage, snarled towards Farkas. "It's time to die, dog," one man yelled at him.
"We knew you'd be coming here," an orc added.
"Big mistake, Companion." More and more of them started joining in, forcing Farkas to back almost fully into the gate.
"Which one is that?" a woman asked, looking towards Yang.
"Doesn't matter. She's with the beast, she dies." At that, they all roared and charged, each with a grin or grimace on their face.
"FARKAS!" Yang grasped at the bars of the gate and tried to pull them apart, feeling them slowly, too slowly, give under her strength.
"Heh, killing you will make an excellent story," a woman declared, swinging her axe down towards Farkas' head, only for her blow to be suddenly stopped by the armored glove of Farkas, his enraged eyes boring into her.
"None of you will live to tell it," Farkas growled before violently kicking her back. One of the men came at him and the Companion swung his blade with a shout. He tried to block, but ended up being slung back several feet. Another came at him from the side, and he blocked his axe before punching his face, then grabbed his sword's leather-bound ricasso and swung it upwards, splitting through the man's armor and body. The orc swung at him with his own greatsword and Farkas blocked and twisted away before stabbing towards him. The orc leapt back and the woman came in with a swipe, hitting his side and earning a grunt of pain from the Companion.
"Farkas!" Yang screamed as she began slamming her fists against the iron bars. The metal began to groan, but she was nowhere near able to get free.
Farkas continued fighting off his attackers, but as outnumbered as he was he was receiving several cuts and bruises for his efforts. He was able to fell another man when his sword swiped clean through his neck and sent the head flying, but doing so seemed to put the woman into a rage, and she began rapidly slicing at him, and the orc used the opportunity to come in with a heavy chop that nearly broke Farkas' armor apart. The man backed up to the cage and his enemies began to slowly close on him again.
"Gods…damn it all," he muttered. He dropped his blade, to Yang's horror, and stood up straight. "You asked for it."
Yang felt her muscles slack and her eyes widen when she saw fur beginning to sprout from her Shield-Brother's arms. The armed men and women ceased their assault, freezing in terror, while Yang backed further and further into her cage, away from what she was seeing. The familiar sound of flesh and bone changing hit her ears as his arms grew longer and became tipped with claws. One hand hit the floor as his legs changed shape, becoming digitigrade, his feet ripping his boots apart. His face became elongated, jaw and snout shooting forward, becoming more and more wolf-like by the second. Clothes and armor fell off of the black-haired manbeast and he roared at his enemies. They came charging in, but a swipe sent most of them reeling. The orc was targeted first, thrown clear across the room with a blow from the left. Another man was clawed open before he could get up. The last tried to hit him with his axe, only for the werewolf to catch his arm and rip it off. He screamed in agony, but then a claw came for his head. The woman went to stab at him, but the blade didn't pierce very well, and the werewolf responded by snapping her head into his jaws, crushing it in a spatter of blood and brain. His enemies dead, he turned and looked to Yang, but the feral rage he displayed had gone, and was replaced by a look Yang could compare to what Zwei looked like when he was sad.
"…Farkas?" Yang tentatively asked, praying that the man she considered to be her friend was still in there.
"One…moment," he got out before walking over to the area his attackers had come from. A moment later, Yang's prison was opened, and she walked out and over to see that Farkas had managed to find and pull another lever. He turned towards her and gave a sort of smile. Or at the very least a close approximation of one.
"Hope I…not scared you." Farkas struggled to make out, Yang still keeping a healthy distance.
"So…you're a werewolf?" Yang matter-of-factly pointed out, to which Farkas nodded.
"Yes. Blessing that…some have. Beastly. Fearsome. Strong."
"What's with the whole...speech thing?" Yang inquired, growing more and more comfortable with the situation.
"Hard to...talk. Sorry..." Farkas whined like a dog, his ears drooping and eyes directed at the floor. A sympathetic look entered Yang's face, and she walked up to him, now certain she wasn't in danger, and started to pet his head, smirking at his tail now wagging.
"It's okay, Farkas. Thank you," Yang continued to pet Farkas until a thought made her stop, which made Farkas whine when she did. "Wait, is that why they asked me about my opinions on werebeasts? Are you guys planning to make me a werewolf too?" The idea was both frightening and intriguing to the Huntress. She still recalled how the man had been unable to control himself, but Farkas was not only in control, but still able to speak, if in broken sentences.
"No. Beastblood is…Circle only. You're still…trying to prove honor…to be Companion." He snorted and shook his head in a doglike manner. "'Eyes on prey, not horizon.'"
Yang nodded at that. "Okay. I see." Going by that, the entire Circle was werewolves. Really, it only made sense that they'd be interested in how she felt about werebeasts after hearing about her successfully taking down a werebear. If the size was anything to go by, that werebear was far tougher than the average werewolf. But, judging by Farkas' performance, a werewolf was much faster.
"Should keep going. Still draugr. Maybe more…Silver Hands." Yang assumed that those men were Silver Hand, and eyeing their weapons, she noted that they too were silver.
Yang nodded and began to leave, but paused a moment to pick up a few silver swords. Farkas growled, but she just shrugged.
"Come on. Imagine how much Adrianne would pay for this. I am saving up to buy a house. Besides, I think I remember someone saying how silver weapons work really good against undead."
He snorted and outstretched his arm. "My sword too."
"Oh yeah." She picked up the blade and its sheath and put it to her back as they walked along. Farkas stayed right behind her, walking on all fours one moment and then on two the next. "So, are you staying like that because you don't want me to see you naked or…?"
"Takes time…wear off."
They came across two more of the 'Silver Hands' talking to each other, but they stopped immediately and went on the offensive the moment they saw Farkas, not even giving Yang the opportunity to demand their surrender. Realizing that none of these werewolf hunters were of the merciful sort, Yang closed in with the archer and slammed a fist into her gut hard enough to cause the woman to vomit and fall to the ground, while Farkas tackled his foe and bit down on his neck before ripping it out.
"Messy," Yang commented, trying her hardest to avert her eyes.
"I'm beast. We're messy."
The woman groaned and Yang kicked her head, knocking her out totally. To his credit, Farkas didn't immediately try to attack the downed woman, merely staring at her intensely. After taking a moment to recover, the two marched on, taking down draugr and Silver Hands along the way. They paused once at a large chest with a particularly hard lock, one that only a master lockpicker could break. Giving up on the attempt, Yang merely punched the lock off to open the chest, causing Farkas to literally howl with laughter. Something that was quickly becoming apparent to the huntress, Yang noticed that, as well as being stronger and faster, Farkas was also acting a lot more wolf-like. He sniffed at things, growled, and she was certain she saw his tail wagging at one point. After opening a set of iron doors, the two came into a large hall with a Word Wall at its end. Yang whistled and pulled out her scroll to take a photo of it as they approached, intending to inform Ruby of its location later. While she looked it over, she noticed a piece of metal sitting on a pedestal on a long, stone table.
"Fragment," Farkas pointed out.
"So the piece of Wuuthrad was actually down here? I guess it wasn't a complete setup by those guys." Yang picked it up and put it away into her pack. "Well, now we-"
The sound of a coffin being kicked open made Yang stop and turn to see a draugr at the center pull itself up.
"Right. Boss battle." Several more coffins were opened, and more draugr came forth, drawing weapons and grunting in their mummy-like way. "Multi-boss, it is!"
Yang charged in with Farkas alongside her. He went for a group of the oncoming draugr while Yang targeted the one from the center coffin. She used fire magic to coat her fists in the burning element and punched, but the draugr managed to block her and sliced back. Its sword clanged against her gauntlet as she guarded, and she left loose a spray of flames before kneeing forward. The draugr stumbled back and tried to grab her arm, but Yang pulled back and punched forward, nailing it in the jaw. Bones cracked, but the mummified warrior kept fighting. Ancient sword clashed against futuristic cestus as the two went back and forth. Yang then heard claws scraping stone and smirked when she saw a giant, black-furred wolf run up and catch her opponent's head in his jaws. Farkas grasped either side of the draugr, and ripped the head off of its body.
"Kill steal," Yang teased as the werewolf dropped the head and scraped his tongue against his teeth. Yang looked around and saw how the rest of the draugr had already fallen to Farkas' fangs and claws, with several torn to shreds.
"Yeck. Disgusting." He shook his head and looked to Yang. "Well done, even if help a lot. Silver Hand…tried to get…in the way. Still won."
"Yeah, we did. What was with those guys anyways?"
"Hate werewolves. Circle werewolves. Lead Companions. Hate Companions."
"Wow. What a bunch of asses," Yang mumbled as she started to backtrack, but paused when she decided to look around for a possible back entrance like from Bleak Falls. "So, we should probably grab you some spare clothes before you change back, huh?"
"Probably."
Weiss's eyes fluttered open to see a stone ceiling above her, the sun's rays shining through the window. She pulled herself up, smacked her dry lips, and looked around her newfound environment. A familiar bottle was set on the counter beside her, and with a start she realized it was one of the bottles of blood from her belongings. Looking around to make sure no one was there, Weiss took the bottle in hand and let healing magic flow through it in order to restore the blood to a more drinkable state. She gulped it down, and instantly felt refreshed, even if it was nowhere near as good as getting it fresh. She heard footsteps coming and turned to wait. The wait wasn't long, as a woman she recalled was named Colette entered, carrying a few bottles of assorted colored liquids, and upon seeing Weiss up, looked at her with a smile.
"Welcome back, dear. You slept rather soundly through the rest of yesterday and all of last night. It's getting pretty close to the lunch hour now."
"Oh, well, uh, thank you for taking care of me," Weiss stated, not bothering to try and hide the bottle, certain that the mage in front of her already knew.
"Any time dear. Oh, and we've already set you up a room. We came across the letter from Wuunferth and set you up straight. Mirabelle and the Archmage had your belongings taken there in the Hall of Attainment."
"Oh." Weiss cleared her throat. "Well, I guess that means I'm accepted."
"Well, you did make a rather impressive display of magical aptitude against that dragon. Don't get your hopes down if you feel like you didn't compare to the others. Almost all of us there were professors. Experts in our craft, at the least."
"Thank you. Am I allowed to leave?" Weiss got out of her bed at this.
"Oh certainly. Let me just show you the way out." Colette motioned to Weiss, who dutifully followed.
Colette led Weiss to a stone spiral staircase and went up and then out of a metal door. It led to the outside, where snow still fell from the grey, cloudy sky. It reminded Weiss of home, if she had to be honest, a thought that brought a slight smile to her face. Weiss walked with Colette around to another section of the facility, but her eye was caught by a statue of a man holding a staff.
"Who's that?" she asked, pointing towards the statue.
"Oh, that's Shalidor, one of the greatest mages in history," Colette explained. "And the founder of the College. He was…a bit pickier about his students than we are, though. And his teaching methods were…deadlier. We try to actually limit self-combustions and the like."
"I think I saw Shalidor mentioned here and there in some books. Never much information on him himself. All I could really garner was that he was a powerful mage, and, oddly, a Nordic one at that."
"Used to not be so odd, but ever since the Oblivion Crisis people have been wary of magic, and after the war Skyrim near about became paranoid of it. Honestly! Just because a lot of bad mages were Thalmor they think every mage is that much closer to 'em." Colette shook her head in exasperation before motioning to continue on.
They stepped into another door and walked downwards into a room similar to the Hall of Healing, but with a far different setup. In the Hall of Healing, beds were set with minimal surroundings and shelves stocked with healing implements. In the Hall of Attainment, the rooms were larger, and far more furnished. Weiss saw several young people who all appeared to be studying in one way or another, or simply talking to their fellow students, most of them formed into different groups that almost seemed like cliques. They went up a level and stopped in front of a room with a key left hanging on its knob.
"Here you go," Colette said as she handed the key to Weiss. "I'll be back in a moment with your school robes. Let me… Yeah, that should be your size."
Weiss smiled as the woman left and then unlocked her room before entering it. It was smaller than she was used to, but had a cozy feeling to it. Her bags and pack were set on the chest at the foot of the bed and she quickly went through her things to begin the trivial task of placing items in decent spots. Her clothes were hung in the wardrobe, bottles were set into a cupboard, her stash of blood was put away inside her end table, and then Myrtenaster was hung up with care near her door. Before she could plan any more organization, a knock resounded on her door and she went to answer it. The door opened, and three young people stood just outside of it, a lanky Nord boy, a young Dunmer woman, and a Khajiit man.
"Uh, hello," the Nord started awkwardly while holding a plate of something. "We uh,… We noticed that you're new here and…you're on our floor. Second floor of the Hall of Attainment."
"What Onmund is trying to say," the Dunmer interrupted, "is welcome. I'm Brelyna Maryon. This stuttering, lovable oaf is Onmund Farlson. And our friend here is J'zargo."
"J'zargo is pleased to make your acquaintance," the Khajiit greeted. "He has heard that it was you who killed the dragon that attacked. Impressive."
"I only made the final blow," Weiss waved off. "Honestly, the Dunmer professor did most of the damage."
"Dunmer professor?" Brelyna wondered. "Do you mean Archmage Savos Aren? He's the only Dunmer in the faculty I know of who could do that much destruction."
"I suppose. We didn't really have time to exchange pleasantries." They all nodded in understanding at that, before a thought suddenly entered Weiss' head. "Speaking of, I am Weiss Schnee, heir- ah, never mind. It's a pleasure to meet you all." Weiss curtsied to the three in front of her.
"The pleasure is, um…" Going by his expression, Onmund was trying to figure out what he was trying to say. "It's nice to meet you. Oh, Talia from the third floor said I should give you this. She's, um, usually right about stuff."
Weiss took the plate and lifted the cloth to see three pastries beneath it.
'Please just be an awkwardly nice guy and not another Jaune,' Weiss begged whatever deity cared to listen.
"Do you suppose you'll be starting soon, Weiss?" Brelyna asked. "There aren't many courses for today left, and I suppose you haven't had the time to really make out a schedule."
"No, I only just regained consciousness." She set the plate on a table nearby. "But, I am hoping to learn more in Conjuration, Alteration, Destruction, Enchantment and Mysticism. I don't much care for Illusion, and Alchemy is more of a hobby to me. As for Restoration, I'm simply quite terrible at it. It takes me half a minute to heal a normal burn or cut."
"Oh dear, that does sound like a problem," Brelyna sympathized. "Guess you'll need Madam Colette's assistance more than the average student."
As though summoned, Colette appeared with another woman, both carrying a set of robes on their arms, both a light blue, with a yellow collar.
"Hello there, apprentice," the other woman greeted her. "Good to see you up. And already meeting your new peers, I see. I'm Master Wizard Mirabelle Ervine. Here," she and Collette offered over the robes and Weiss took them both. "See which fit you better. You needn't wear them at all times, but they'll be your identifier for when classes come about. That way we can keep up with your expected general level of skill. All robes are also enchanted to assist in spellcasting and magicka regeneration."
"Oh, thank you. One moment." Weiss shut her door and laid both of the outfits on her bed to look them over. After trying on both, she folded the other one neatly and opened the door back to find everyone listening to something J'zargo was saying.
"And so he said to the Bosmer 'Don't ever invite me to a funeral again!'."
The group laughed lightly before looking towards Weiss.
"Ah, splendid! We got it right," Mirabelle said as she looked Weiss over. "Let's see… All right. I'll have a few spares sent to your room later. For now, you should go and speak to the Archmage. He wanted a few words with you as soon as you were able."
"Oh, uh, I suppose I should go then. Where-"
"I'll lead you there. Afterwards I'll give you the general tour. Normally I show the new students around as soon as they join, but your initiation was a bit different from the norm." She began walking away and Weiss followed. "Everyone, have a nice day."
"You as well, Madame Ervine," Brelyna said, followed by the matching sentiments of the other two. Colette followed along with them, but split and headed back towards the Hall of Healing while Mirabelle led Weiss to the large doors behind the glowing well and statue of Shalidor. A few more students were wandering around, with some directing looks towards the heiress, hushed whispers among them.
"This is the Hall of the Elements. Here most of the lectures will occur, unless stated otherwise by the class Master. Above us is the library, then the research labs, and at the top is the Archmage's quarters." They began heading up one of the spiral staircases in the foyer, winding about the long way up the main tower.
They exited the stairs into a large and spacious room, almost as large as the lecture hall. In the center, rather than another magical well, a sort of garden was set with two lights giving nourishment to an array of flowers, mushrooms, some odd plants, and a tree. The back third of the level was partly walled off in a semicircle with an open entrance at either end. One end looked like it led directly to a pantry and the other into a dining room. Weiss supposed that in the middle somewhere was the living area for the Archmage. Towards the front of the spacious room they were in, she saw the Dunmer wizard speaking with an Altmer in purple robes.
'A Thalmor? This far east?'
"While I'm certain that your people could use the corpse for research, you have to keep in mind that we could also research it here as well," Savos told the high elf. "Going by the rumors, dragons aren't so rare anymore. Surely the 'mighty' Dominion can take down one on their own?" Weiss couldn't help but smirk at that. While she would normally reserve judgement for a group of people, especially after the last time she did that, both the Imperial Loyalists and Stormcloak Rebels had nothing but the worst to ever say about the Thalmor. Even the Khajiit, whose homeland was nominally allied to the Dominion, didn't much like the Thalmor party.
"Of course, but we have yet to come across one. They're mostly focused in Skyrim and the counties nearest the province, and they've mostly attacked villages and small towns before anyone could respond."
"Well, you'll get one yet Ancano. Perhaps one will make the headstrong mistake of attacking your embassy."
"Are you suggesting something?" the Altmer seethed.
"Suggesting? All I was saying is that if one attacks your embassy, surely you will put it down quickly. Then the Dominion will have their dragon corpse to study. Until then, let the College do what it's meant to. If we find anything substantial, you can be sure we'll share it with you. As well as the rest of Tamriel."
The Thalmor agent crossed his arms and sighed. "Very well. Don't expect Elenwen to be happy with this though."
As he walked away, Savos shook his head. "Don't think that woman's ever been happy, so my expectations aren't changing too much." He turned his attention over to Mirabelle and Weiss. "Welcome, apprentice. I hope today finds you well."
"As well as I can be, sir. I'm just happy to finally be here." Weiss respectfully bowed.
"And we're happy to have you. Mirabelle, please see that Ancano is busy with something…elsewhere. I'd rather we had this chat uninterrupted."
"Of course, Archmage. I'll show you around later," she said to Weiss before leaving. Savos walked over to a nearby table with two chairs and sat down, motioning for Weiss to join him. Once she did so, he cleared his throat.
"So," Savos started, "let's begin with the obvious. We know you're a vampire."
Weiss sighed. "I was hoping that I could be the one to reveal it this time."
"You might have, had you not nearly gotten your leg chewed off. Regular healing spells weren't working, so we had to resort to force-feeding you potions while Colette resorted to using undead healing. Not many people understand it, and she's one of the few that do. Sadly, even her skill in it isn't much. From there, it was rather easy to figure out."
"I suppose so. I guess it isn't a problem?"
"Not at all. We've had vampires come and learn from us before. We try to send most of them to an underground lair west of Dawnstar where an old friend of mine established a safe haven for them. They're peaceful enough. Most of them make vows to never bite a mortal except as a last resort. A few leave themselves open for the possibility, although even then only for the most unscrupulous of people. Bandits, murderers, and the like. They've spent centuries trying to rediscover the old potion of blood recipe, or a cure for the Sanguinare Vampiris strain, which is likely what afflicted you. You were turned in Skyrim, yes?"
"I was. We were in a cave and I was bitten. The land my friends and I hail from doesn't have vampires, so we didn't even know what was going on until I bit and drained a bandit a week later."
"A land without vampires? Interesting," Savos mused, curious eyes staring into her undead soul, and Weiss sighed.
"Well, that's another thing I need to go over with you," she began explaining. "My main purpose for coming here wasn't just to learn magic, but also to find us a way home. We... My friends and I, we're not from Nirn." If Savos' interest wasn't piqued before, it definitely was now, judging by the look in his eyes. Weiss, seeing how it wasn't in disbelief, continued on. "Where we're from, the entire world has been mapped, though not all of it explored. Also, we only have one moon, and it is shattered. Going by what we know, we are certain that our world is completely separate from Nirn."
"Another world?" Savos thought out loud with a small amount of wonder. "Would certainly explain your pseudo-magic, and the strange minerals in your weapon," Savos paused to think. "I can only think of two possibilities with that. Either your world is one of the gods' bodies, one of the other planets in Mundus, or it's somewhere in an unclaimed portion of Oblivion."
"I've thought that might be a possibility as well. Our world has been inhabited for as long as history can recall by the Creatures of Grimm, dark, soulless monsters who only try to destroy my people and our creations. After reading about daedra, I think they may be another type or species that Nirn has never dealt with before, but to be honest I'm not entirely sure on that."
"A realm in Oblivion filled with mortals? I would have never thought… Well, the Shivering Isles are said to be populated by mortals as well, but what would we expect of the realm of madness? From what you've told me though… Do you know if there is a Daedric Prince in charge of it?"
"None that I could tell. I've compared some of our world's old religions with the Monomyth. Most do have the duality of darkness and light, with mankind being born through a mix of the two, while life itself is of pure light, and Grimm are born of pure darkness. I'm not sure if that helps."
"I'm afraid not. Though, if a Prince does oversee your realm, I imagine they must be quite Padomaic in nature," At this, Savos stood up and walked to the side, grasping his chin in thought, with Weiss still sitting down. "So, you're hoping to find a way back? Conjuration will be the first step in that. However, planar travel has not been studied much since the Oblivion Crisis. Don't expect much support in that endeavor either, as people still shirk anything to do with Oblivion in general, the scars from that time run so deep. You'll be starting with little to go on, and building up everything yourself. Perhaps you may discover a way in time, but don't be surprised if it takes you years, even decades."
"However long it takes, I'll do it. It may not be the best world, but it is our home."
"Then good luck. I'll help as best I can, but I will be quite busy. Mirabelle will help set up your schedule, just let her know your goals."
"Thank you. Um, I have a friend that should be coming up soon. She's rather skilled at Illusions…"
"If she passes our entrance requirements, she may join as well. Did you get separated on the road?"
"She may or may not have backtracked in order to stop an assassination plot." Savos' eyes widened in concern at that.
"By Azura, I hope she comes out fine, then! If it's what I'm thinking, she may be in a perilous situation as we speak!"
"Don't worry. Blake is more than capable," Weiss reassured both Savos and herself.
"Still, here's to hoping."
"Also, where should I take any letters I wish to send?"
"Ah, that will be handled at the Courier's Guildhouse, right next to the guardhouse. Just let a Professor know when you venture down so we don't assume you've accidentally sucked yourself into a portal or vaporized yourself."
Weiss giggled at the joke and nodded. "Yes sir."
When dusk came, Blake decided she would be taking Commander Maro's advice and set up her tent hastily, laying down with Gambol Shroud, the Blade of Woe, the Ebony Blade, and her hunting bow all within reach. Scared as she was of a knife coming in the dead of night, she was so exhausted at that point she couldn't fight sleep if she wanted to. She awoke to the sounds of birds singing at the crack of dawn, feeling refreshed, but still frightened and determined. She packed everything as quickly as she dared and went back on the trail, double-checking her map to be sure she was on the right track. Luckily she remembered to feed and water this horse last night and so she went uninterrupted to the Hold capital of Falkreath. She handed the horse over to a stable hand along with the fee, and then headed into town. Once inside, she quickly spotted a guard wearing a gray-blue tabard with the Falkreath stag embroidered on it over a suit of chainmail. She approached the woman, clearing her throat to catch the guard's attention.
"Yes, can I help you?" the guard asked her responsibly.
"Yes, I just thought that you should know, the sheep are silent."
Blake saw her eyes widen beneath her helmet. "I see. Here, come with me."
The guard woman led her from the streets and to the nearby guardhouse. They went down into the basement level and then past the jail cells. On the other side a man in regular Imperial Legion armor was going over a map with pins set around Falkreath.
"Captain Falker, we've got word from the Commander," the guard told him.
"Hm, word? Who's this?"
"I'm Blake Belladonna, sir. Commander Maro sent me. He told me that night is almost over."
The captain practically jumped to attention at that. "By the Eight! This is… Agent, I'll be pulling our resources together in preparation. Just act natural, go to the inn or tavern or some such, and wait for a guard to come get you. Again, keep up the act, but go along with them."
"Yes sir. Any chance I can borrow a few coins? I've only got five septims left."
He tossed her over a bag. "Here. Feel free to get what you want, but don't stuff yourself."
"Thank you very much."
With that, Blake headed out and tracked down the Dead Man's Drink, hungry for some solid food, she got a pair of grilled trout and ate them both with gusto. A while after finishing them and drinking down a glass of watered down wine, a guard came into the inn and saw her.
"Excuse me, miss," he began. "We caught the thieves, and we need you to come back to the barracks. Standard procedure; have to make sure your story matches up with what the others have been telling us."
"Ugh, and I just got comfortable too," she complained while standing up. She followed him back to the guardhouse, where the man who had been in Imperial Legion uniform was now in armor like what Maro and his assistant had been wearing, but with the red more dulled. The eye sigil still stood out on his chest as he turned towards her.
"Ah, good. Welcome back, miss. I'm Captain Arcturus. So, everyone here is with us for the assault, though my agents in the field will be spearheading it. Can you tell us what exactly has happened? Anything not confidential, of course."
"A few days ago I was captured by a member of the Dark Brotherhood and then promptly killed her. Commander Maro confirmed that it was Astrid." Some of the guards murmured at that. "He then sent me ahead so that we could put an end to the rest. They're supposed to be vulnerable now."
"Vulnerable, and by the latest report, all but Astrid are in the sanctuary. Agents said that they seemed to be worried over something, but now I think we can guess rightly what it is." He laughed at this. "Finally, a lifetime of work is coming together. Please, Miss Belladonna, will you join us for this? Anyone who could take on the leader of the Dark Brotherhood would only be a boon to our assault."
"Absolutely. I would've come even if you told me not to."
"Glad to hear it," Captain Arcturus smiled. "Well then, let's go put an end to these death cultists."
With that, Arcturus headed out, the group of guardsmen following him. Blake tagged along with them, taking up the rear as they jogged out. People watched the strange procession with interest, but no one seemed shocked or made any move to stop them. They continued into the forest, stopping some ways away from the city. Several agents seemed to step out of nowhere, telling Blake that they were stealthy individuals indeed.
"Captain?"
"Night is nearly over, men. Spread the word. Close in on the sanctuary, keep the secret exit covered. Not a single assassin is leaving this place alive."
"At once." The agent ran off, but disappeared into the underbrush.
'Of course they'd need stealth experts to spy on assassins,' Blake thought to herself. 'How else would they combat them?'
After a stretch of time, the agent returned and nodded. "We're ready."
"Men, let's move in," the captain ordered before heading towards a nearby hill. Under an alcove and hidden behind a boulder was a door with a giant skull carved into its side and two stylized skeletons crossing arms. Arcturus nodded towards Blake, who nodded and approached the door, to find, to her surprise, it spoke a question upon her pulling the handle.
"What is the music of life?" it whispered out.
Blake grimaced. "Silence, my brother."
"Welcome home." And then it opened. Blake pulled the door all the way and agents began filing in, holding their shields aloft and swords at the ready. Blake fell in with Captain Arcturus and they went down the hallways of the assassins' lair.
"I know some of you are concerned," a baritone voice said up ahead, "but there's nothing to worry about. Astrid will come back soon and…" Blake turned a corner and saw a group of no less than a dozen assassins of varying races, at their head a Redguard man with desert-style clothing and an Argonian. The group looked as though they'd been caught completely off-guard, and some went down before they could prepare for the agents charging them with a shield wall.
"The Oculatus have found us!" the Redguard shouted as he pulled two scimitars from his side, a brutal melee promptly ensuing.
Blake jumped in a gap and swiped down a Breton with a V-neck slice. A Bosmer tried to avenge him, only to strike a clone and be stabbed under his chin. As she yanked her blade free, she saw the Argonian throw an agent over his shoulder and stab into his gut. He looked at her with a snarl and prepared himself to battle her. Blake jumped from the shield wall and slammed her blades into his. Arrows began flying into the mix from a number of Falkreath guards, and Blake saw one strike a Suthay Khajiit assassin in the eye, felling her. Her instincts shouted, and she ducked to see a pair of scimitars pass over her. The Redguard cursed, and then she was assaulted from both sides by the two.
"Take her down!" he cried out to his reptilian comrade. "She's one of their elites!"
Blake fought to block strikes from both the assassins, her two blades against their four. She kneed at the Argonian in his gut and parried a dual strike from the Redguard, only to immediately block the Argonian again. She disengaged him and swiped one strike from the Reguard and went to give her own, but had to knock away the Argonian's blade once again. The Redguard drew back and stabbed forward, but his blades passed through a clone that instantly vanished and jabbed into his comrade.
"Brother!" he cried out, but then his attention was drawn by the sickle flying past his head connected to a ribbon. Blake grasped Gambol Shroud's ribbon and pulled back hard while funneling a small amount of Aura through it, triggering the firing mechanism. The sickle burst forward and cut deep into the Redguard's neck, knocking him into the floor as his throat was cut open wide. Blake brought her sickle-sword back to her and looked at the wounded Argonian, who was clutching his abdomen wounds. He snarled at her, but when he attacked, he stood little chance. Blake parried him away, stepped back, and then swiped Gambol Shroud around on its ribbon and cut him bottom to top. Part of his guts spilled out from the wound as he fell to his knees, where she stabbed down into the back of his chest.
Before Blake could redirect her attention, the sound of an explosion suddenly rang out and sent several guardsmen flying. Blake looked up and saw an old man in robes with the same colors as the assassin outfits and flames surrounding both his hands.
"Festus!" someone yelled out.
"They have us boxed in!" he announced before forming a ball of fire in one hand and throwing it. "Astrid had the portkey! We have to fight our way out!"
Nimbly dodging the fireball, Blake jumped up to his level and went to stab him, but he was suddenly covered in a black mist-like aura and her blade was stopped almost as soon as it hit his skin. She backed off as he let loose flames that felt as hot as a bonfire and tried to swipe at him again, only to find her sword and cleaver sliding off of his magic armor like butter knives against rock. He nearly caught her with a flaming grasp, but her Semblance saved her from being burnt up. She tried to think of a way past his defense, when, almost like someone whispering at the back of her mind, she recalled she had a blade that had sliced through human flesh and bone with almost no resistance. Gambol Shroud promptly went to her back, and the Ebony Blade was drawn. The wizard threw a fireball at her feet, but she leaped over the missile and reared back, aiming for his neck. She sliced forward and felt resistance like what she would normally expect from cutting through ballistic gel, and then she saw the old man's head flying.
The sweet sensation flooded her once again, and all the little aches she'd gained fled. Her left knee shook and she kneeled as the life stolen was syphoned into her. Blood wicked away into the Ebony Blade again and she looked at the sword.
Snapping herself out of it, she sheathed the daikatana and brought her regular weapons back to the forefront just in time to block an arrow aimed at her. She looked and saw a Dunmer with a bow off to the side. Three more arrows came at her rapidly, and Blake blocked or dodged them as she ran at the archer. The Dunmer dodged her first attempt to kill her and fired an arrow point blank, which Blake narrowly avoided in such a way she was forced to do a backhand spring as she struck out again with her cleaver. The archer back stepped it and notched an arrow, but as Blake came back to her feet her sickle went out and sliced through the bowstring. The sliced string whipped out and struck its wielder in the cheek, causing her to cry out in pain and clutch the bleeding wound. Blake went at her with her cleaver, which the Dunmer barely blocked in time with a dagger, but had no way to stop her sword from stabbing up into her abdomen. Blake drew back and stabbed into her heart to be sure, then went back where the main battle was still occurring.
As she returned, a barefoot Nord came from a lower level and smashed two men aside with a greatsword. An agent charged him, only for his shield, armor, and body to be chopped through down to his waist like the assassin had been splitting firewood. The Nord kicked him off his blade and then sniffed the air. He looked up at Blake and a feral snarl stretched across his face.
"You!" he called out. "I smell…Astrid's…blood. You… You!" He threw his sword in an overhead toss at a nearby agent, skewering the man and pinning him to the opposite wall. He looked back at Blake as brown fur began sprouting on his arms and body. "You killed my wife!" he screamed just before his body expanded and changed into a form that reminded Blake of a young Beowulf, his upper clothing ripping apart. Unsure of what she was seeing, she was shocked when the creature jumped up the wall and kicked off to the platform where she was.
"Werewolf!" a guardsman called out. "One of them's a gods damned werewolf!"
Blake ducked under the 'werewolf's' clawed swipe and tried to stab, only to find it had a tough hide to penetrate. She backpedaled from the beast as he chomped at her and rapidly tore at the air in front of her. He leapt at her with teeth and claws bared and she jumped aside and ran into an adjoined room. He followed her into the circular room with a stained glass window and let out a low growl as it prowled around her. The beast charged and Blake ran and jumped over while raking her weapons against his back. The werewolf yelped in pain and turned as she did, while Blake raised her gun and began firing. Bullets hit fur covered flesh and punched through, spattering a small amount of blood with each hit. The beast roared in defiance as he covered his face, and then Blake's gun clicked empty. She reached back to grab a new magazine, but to her astonishment found nothing.
'That was my last mag,' she realized in distress. The werewolf, realizing her weapon was empty, recovered and ran at her again. Blake turned and jumped through the stained glass, her pursuer jumping after her. She swiped with Gambol Shroud, but only scored shallow cuts as the beast fell upon her and pinned her to the floor. His teeth went for her throat, but her cleaver came up in time to block him. She slid across the floor as he pushed and struggled against her, trying to bring his teeth to her flesh.
Before he could, an Oculatus agent cried out as he jumped onto the werewolf's back, stabbing a silvery dagger into his shoulder. The beast roared in pain and jumped off of Blake before turning and knocking the man away with a yelp. The werewolf started scratching at the dagger as though it pained him greatly, and Blake stood up and drew the Ebony Blade once again. She shouted and speared it through the werewolf, which roared as the artifact pierced his body and drank up his blood. Blake pulled the Blade free and sliced across, removing an arm and cutting through part of his neck, sending him to the ground. With a wild grin, she plunged the Blade down into his body twice more, until he ceased moving.
Her hands gripped the hilt of the Blade tightly, twisting around it as the rapturous feeling washed over her, all of her wounds sealing shut once again. Her knees knocked against each other, and then she looked to the back of the sanctuary, where something told her more assassins were gathered. She rushed forward, and saw another dozen of them looking at some kind of tunnel, as though trying to figure out how to get through it. Her heart pumped wildly as her pupils turned into slits and her lips drew back to reveal her fang-like canines. Some of the assassins noticed her and readied their weapons, and she laughed. Before she attacked, she let her voice roar like she'd heard her father do at times, and then she leapt at them, the Blade coming forth for them.
"Their hearts wilt as one meant to be their sister slaughters them."
Blake sliced left, right, up, down, and diagonally, going for the way that would slice through the most flesh in one strike each time. One pitiful Ohmes-raht tried to block with an iron sword, only for it to be cleaved through as easily as the Huntress cleaved his body. Blake only stopped when the last of the assassins fell beneath her in several pieces and stood as she was enamored with the feeling coursing through her veins. She sighed in pleasure as she gripped the handle tightly once again, watching as blood flowed into the Blade and to her.
"Miss?" she heard and swung behind her, stopping herself inches from beheading one of the Oculatus agents. The man went pale after the Blade stopped just short of his neck, and she slowly reeled herself in until she finally forced herself to sheathe the Blade at her back.
"Sorry, you startled me," she lied through a shaky voice. A glance down showed her that she was mostly covered in blood at this point. She felt sick when she saw the severed limbs and spilled organs around her. Walking away from the gore coated floor, she went to where she last recalled Gambol Shroud being left.
"We… We think we've gotten all of the fighters. The agents are combing through the sanctuary now," the agent, clearly disturbed, informed the equally disturbed faunus.
"Good. That's good. I'll… I'll look around too." She picked up her discarded weapon and began walking through the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, trying to keep her mind away from the scene she had just left in her wake. There were a few bedrooms, as well as a torture chamber. Some men had just stabbed a small frostbite spider to death and were wondering what it was doing there. Blake entered into one room and paused at what she saw.
A little girl with brown hair was gasping in fear and holding a dagger shakily. Her eyes quivered and Blake felt a knot form in her throat. She didn't know what the Penitus Oculatus' policy on finding child recruits was. For all she knew they'd kill her like the others, or send her somewhere to 'purify' her. Horror stories were told about what humans, and faunus for that matter, often did to the helpless back before modern times in Remnant.
"She's been-"
'Shut up! Shut UP!'
The faunus swallowed and sheathed her weapons. Seeing the girl calm slightly, she walked over and formed a magic spell between her hands and then placed it on her head. The girl seemed to vanish from sight, and little displacements in the air let Blake know that she'd noticed it.
"Get out of here," Blake told her. "Just forget about everything."
For a moment nothing happened, and then Blake heard tiny feet pattering away silently. If she hadn't the excellent hearing she had, she would have never heard the child run out.
"God- Gods, help me," she muttered as she left the room. Captain Arcturus showed up from another one.
"Find anything?"
"No. I think that's everyone. We got them all," Blake lied, a lie which the captain believed.
"Good. Good. We'll let the men sweep a while longer, then we'll burn this place out."
By the time it was over, and Blake stepped out of the sanctuary with several items that the Oculatus told her she could take as spoils, she felt sickened by the amount of blood everywhere, as well as relieved that it was all, finally, over. A week spent doing nothing but worrying about whether or not there was a killer ready to put them down in their beds had passed, and now Blake could look forward to sound sleep once again. Just as well, there appeared to be a Word Wall in the sanctuary, so Ruby could come down here at some point and read it for them. Maybe it contained a big clue to everything.
The victorious soldiers returned to Falkreath with plenty of tales to tell, and already she could hear some of them talking about how she 'butchered the Brotherhood'. She tried to shake the image from her head, but it was practically useless. She just had to focus on other things. The odd jewel, for instance, seemed peculiar. She'd have to see if a jeweler somewhere could tell her about it. And then there was the enchanted armor of the assassins. A little stitching work to remove the Dark Brotherhood sigils and it could work for her. A quick stop at Grey Pine Goods got her the needed items as well as some new clothes to replace her bloodstained ones. As she started making the necessary cuts to the armor, Falker Arcturus came up and saluted her.
"Good work in there, miss. We might not have been nearly as well off if you hadn't come. The werewolf came as a complete surprise to everyone."
"Just glad to help, and finally have it over with." She began sewing a black dyed piece of leather into place. "I don't have to worry about them coming after me or my friends again."
"That's true, I suppose. Well, I guess you'll be returning to Commander Maro to receive your reward soon? You deserve everything the Empire gives you and more." He took out a letter and handed it over to her. Blake took it in hand and flipped it around as she observed it. "That's for the commander, letting him know we've finished down here. Once everything's set, the men and I will be headed back to the outpost. There are other dangers in the Empire that will need our attention, now that we're free of one burden."
"I'll make sure he gets it."
"Thank you, Miss Belladonna. Have a good day." He saluted, and headed back to the guard barracks as Blake continued her work. Once she was done, she packed away the leather armor and went to the stable to get on her borrowed horse and head back to Dragon Bridge. She looked up at the sky and smiled lightly, letting the peaceful wind blow a comforting breeze through her hair.
By the time Yang and Farkas got back to Whiterun, the sun was nearly set. Farkas proudly carried his sword across his shoulder despite losing his armor and walking in shoes three sizes too large. They entered Jorrvaskr and Farkas went to go get his own clothes on while bragging to his brother about how his sword had pierced a dragon's heart.
"And while she was holding it by the snout, I drove it right in. She hopped down and helped, but I was about to get it on my own."
"Yes, because the girl who knocks dragons silly with her fists didn't add anything to your strength at all."
Skjor shook his head as he walked past the two, and stopped right in front of Yang as she took the piece of Wuuthrad from her satchel and held it up with a bright smile.
"We got it!"
"So you did," he said while taking it from her hand. "Yes, this looks genuine. I'll bring this to Kodlak. Meet us outside in a moment."
"No problem. Let me just see if I can't get some of that stew real quick." She went over to the pot and helped herself to a bowl, thankful that it was at the perfect temperature for eating as she dug in. By the time she was finished, she saw Aela, Kodlak, and Skjor head out the back, and then Farkas and Vilkas exited as well. She set the empty bowl down and headed out after them, to see that they had formed a circle with just enough space for her to walk in. The other Companions had all gathered around as Kodlak lit a torch and held it up high.
"Brothers and sisters of the Circle," he announced, "today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold. This woman has endured, has challenged, and has shown her valor. Who will speak for her?"
Farkas proudly stuck out his chest as he spoke. "I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us." Yang smiled brightly at the ceremony unfolding before her.
"Would you raise your shield in her defense?" Kodlak asked.
"I would stand at her back, that the world might never overtake us."
"And would you raise your sword in her honor?"
"It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes."
"And would you raise a mug in her name?"
"I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories."
"Then the judgement of this Circle is complete." Kodlak turned back to Yang. "Her heart beats with fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, that the mountains may echo and our enemies may tremble at the call."
"It shall be so," the others of the Circle said at once. With that, the ceremony seemed concluded, and the group began dispersing. Kodlak set the torch down into a brazier, lighting it as he left it there, and then approached Yang, who had just received a half dozen shoulder pats from her fellow Companions.
"Well, lass, you're one of us now," he said with a small smile. "I look forward to seeing you grow with us."
"Me too," she admitted. "I have some questions if you don't mind, but…" she looked out to the crowd that was slowly funneling its way into Jorrvaskr to begin celebrating. "I'll have to ask them when we have a more private setting."
"Yes, Farkas mentioned you seeing something we prefer to keep secret. No helping that, given the situation at the time. Just let me know when you wish to speak. My door is always open for you." He patted her on the shoulder as well and the two headed inside.
As the morning sunlight came upon the Hrothgar mountains, the door to the front of High Hrothgar opened, and a young girl followed by a woman some years her senior came out. Ruby paused and looked over to Whiterun, and then took a deep breath through her nose and released it from her mouth. She closed her eyes and, as though making for a final check, looked into her own soul. She could easily envision it; two dragons flying around an endlessly tall pillar, her point-of-view slowly spinning around the impossible structure. One dragon was large, grey-black, and flew with predatory grace. The other was much smaller, green, and fluttered spastically at times. Both were within her, yet both existed separate from her. They were her, but she was not them. She released another breath and opened her eyes back to the outer world. She turned to the path, and began heading down the mountain.