Chapter 59: Meeting Expectations
7th of Evening Star
They flew through the air, neither the speed of their flight nor the winds of Kaan stifling their Words.
"The mortals along the eastern mountains have all joined the rebels,"Golalthur explained. "Even now, several of our brothers have been felled."
"Hah,"Horvutokinah snorted. "What weaklings have succumbed to mere mortal hands?"
"It was no mere mortals,"Mirmulnir corrected. "Horvutokinah, some of our brethren have joined them."
This made him go still for a moment, his flight drifting downwards as he digested these words.
"Who? Who would turn from Alduin?"
"Few, but some still. Not only that, but one of our Dragon Priests has rebelled. He has…a gift. A dragon's soul. His Thu'um is said to be mighty, and he has slain many of our brethren in the north."
"Madness! Pure madness! The folly of mortals spreads even to our kin?! A mortal dares to hold dominion over dragons?!"He roared and then Shouted, winds sweeping around him and rain pouring from the sky. "I will find one and slay him myself as an example of what will come to all traitors!"
"Be careful, Horvutokinah,"Mirmulnir warned him before he turned to go north. "No mere weaklings have joined the rebelling humans." He then left, with Golalthur turning west as Horvutokinah continued to fly east. The sight of those revolting rebels came, but he continued on until he laid eyes on the form of one of his brethren among them. The men were watching him warily, but his gaze immediately turned to the one flying above them.
"Fool! I will destroy you for your treachery! Horvutokinah will scatter your bones!"
"You will not defeatKrinothjun so easily."
The two crashed into each other in midair, biting, clawing, and arguing. Krinothjun was championing to teach and guide the mortals, rather than rule them. Horvutokinah was defending the position of their dominance. The humans tried to help Krinothjun, first hesitantly, then with fervor, but there was little they could do to turn the battle of two Revered Dragons.
For a moment, Horvutokinah fell upon the back leg, then managed to reclaim his spot ahead when he Became Ethereal, many attacks passing through him as he did. He then rammed his traitor brother while shouting of their birthright hold over the world as the children of the First Dragon. The traitor was then smashed into a mountainside with Unrelenting Force, where he crumpled to the ground far below and expired. Horvutokinah landed above, and his brother's soul flowed into him.
"What is Our Father's, is not our own,"the soul of Krinothjun said as he sank away into the being of Horvutokinah, becoming one with him. The dragon merely snarled, then looked out at the masses readied to slay him. As injured as he was, he knew he was in no state to try and fight an army. Instead, he flew out across the mountains, planning to rest among their highest, unreachable peaks to let his body heal.
Ruby's eyes opened, and she was looking out across the vast lands beneath the mountain. She had been meditating in one of the small towers, letting the sunlight and wind brush her with their touches as she did. She was finding that they helped to pull her into her meditation.
A hand reached up to feel her eye, checking as though to make sure it was still there. Then her mind thought back to what she saw and felt from Horvutokinah's perspective, then how he felt through Krinothjun and his absorption.
'That must be…what happened with Paalduzaam.' Ruby had ruminated a while on why one of the dragon souls within her had seemingly up and disappeared. The Greybeards didn't really have any answers, but now she had a few theories. The top one in her mind so far was that she had somehow 'rejected' him completely. Which wasn't too far-fetched. That disgusting dragon represented everything Ruby was against, and it seemed dragons didn't have the same problem as she did when it came to absorbing each other. She still wasn't sure what that was all about.
Still, these were all the wrong questions and answers. With a huff, Ruby lay back and stretched her limbs, feeling some joints pop in her shoulders. As she went limp, she heard footsteps walking up to her place, then saw Argneir above her.
"Is everything all right, Dragonborn?"
"Not bad. Just having…difficulties figuring stuff out." She sat up and then leaned against her arms as she pushed from behind herself. "I keep doing literal soul-searching, but I don't really have control over what comes up. It just seems so…random."
"Hmm, perhaps you could tell me about it."
Ruby nodded and took a minute to explain her vision to him, all the way from where Horvutokinah summoned up a small storm in his rage to after his battle with Krinothjun.
"I think that's when he fell off the map and went into hiding. The Dragon Wars must have ended while he was away, and then he just kept hiding until Alduin came back."
"Hm, I see. And you understood all the words intrinsically?"
"Yeah. I don't really hear it with a 'mortal ear' in my head. If I focus for a while on one thing, I can figure out what the word is and differentiate that from normal languages, but…I can't really do that word by word and expect to get anywhere anytime soon."
"Perhaps you should refocus your efforts towards related subjects," the old Nord suggested. "After all, you are looking for the Word to clear your path, not just any Word of Power."
"No, I guess that's true. I just…got a lot on my mind." She stood up and then reached around in a swivel to further stretch herself. "Well, I'm going to take a quick run around the place, then I'll call Lydia and see how she's doing. Supper at sundown?"
"As always." With his nod, Ruby took off and began at a slow jog, looking at the arch that led into the deadly winds sealing her path from her. She had tried an array of Shouts she already knew on the winds, but none of them had worked so far.
'I'll figure this out. Just gotta…clear the way somehow.' As her mind continued rolling, she ran on.
With their hoods low, the two women made their way through the mists of Riften's morning and down to the lower levels, where they waited a moment before slipping into the sewer entrance. Blake saw perfectly well, but Karliah had to take a torch from the wall and light it.
"It's been a while since I've been here. Yet, it doesn't feel all that different. Like it was only…" The Dunmer lowered her head before looking back up at Blake. "One moment." She pulled out a blade and offered the hilt to the Faunus, who took it in hand and began to look it over. The blade was black, almost ephemeral, and the guard was shaped into the same insignia she had seen used in reference to the Nightingales. "I want you to have this. It belonged to Gallus, but given the circumstances, I think he would approve."
"Thank you," Blake murmured before nodding to the woman. The blade was enchanted to absorb something. Unlike the Ebony Blade or Blade of Woe, however, it didn't seem hungry for blood. Rather, it almost felt like a thief with an itch to steal. "I'll put it to good use."
"If the Guild isn't willing to listen to reason, you might have to."
Her words bounced around in Blake's skull for a moment as she tied the new sheath to her side and they continued on through the Ratway. She really hoped it didn't come to that. The Brotherhood was one thing. They were a bunch of death-worshipping assassins who directly threatened her and her friends, not to mention killed innocent people. But this was something entirely different. She knew the Thieves Guild, worked with them. There were some she could even call friends. Still, if Mercer was around, convincing them would be all the harder.
"What if Mercer's there?"
"Then we show them Gallus' journal and hope for the best," Karliah answered. "Remember, we have proof and all he's got is his word. He can make hearts lean to his favor, but he can't erase knowledge and facts."
As they came into the Ragged Flagon, Blake felt a few eyes land upon them. A few stayed glued to Karliah, though many of the younger members lost interest fairly quickly. Others seemed to zero in on them, surprised both at seeing Blake alive and Karliah with her. In one case, someone hopped to his feet and rushed over to the cistern. Blake cursed inside of her head, but said nothing as they continued on their way. When they did enter, Vex, Delvin, and Brynjolf were all standing and waiting, weapons readied. Four other Guild members were at the far side with bows strung and arrows nocked. While Blake felt she could take them all on if she had to, she noticed how their focus was really on the Dark Elf.
For a long, drawn out moment, nobody said a thing. Karliah stood stock still while holding the journals in her hands, and the Guildsmen all seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move. Finally, Brynjolf seemed to let up some of his tension and stepped forward.
"Well, I was told there would be proof. Do you have it, or are you here for something else?"
"I have it," Karliah answered, holding up the book in one hand. "Gallus' original journal, the translation, and the ciphers needed to translate it, if you don't believe us."
The Nord looked at the materials as Karliah offered them, then took them in hand, opening up the translation first.
"What's all of this then?" Delvin asked as he peered over Brynjolf's shoulder.
"This is the proof that you've all been misled," Karliah explained.
As she said it, Brynjolf's eyes went wide and he turned the page.
"No, it…can't be." As he scanned the pages, his arms seemed to falter, taking the book further from his face. "I was hoping you were all wrong… That you were mistaken, but…"
"It's true, Brynjolf. Every word," Karliah told him.
"There's only one way to find out if everything here is true," he declared before looking to the man at his left. "Delvin, I'll need you to open the vault."
"Wait just a blessed moment, Bryn," the bald Nord objected as Brynjolf turned and began heading towards the far side of the cistern, his two compatriots following him. "What's in that book? What did it say?"
"It says Mercer's been stealing from our vault for years," he explained as Blake and Karliah followed after them. "Gallus was looking into it before he was murdered."
"How can Mercer open a vault that needs two keys? It's impossible. Could he pick his way in?"
"That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy," Vex pointed out as they neared it. "There's no way it can be picked open."
"He didn't need to pick the lock," Karliah muttered as they neared the vault's door.
"What's she on about?" Delvin asked as he looked at her in distrust.
"Use your key on the vault, Delvin," Brynjolf commanded. "We'll open it up and find out the truth."
The bald-headed man did so, walking forward and then inserting a key hanging from a cord around his neck. After a twist and a click, he gave the door a push then turned to walk back towards the rest of them.
"I used my key, but the vault's still locked up tighter than a drum. Now use yours."
Brynjolf nodded and did the same, taking his key from a secret pocket at his wrist before using it. The doors then came open, and the man was the first to look inside. He ran in and his face morphed into one of abhorred surprise.
"By the Eight! It's gone! Everything's gone! Get in here, all of you!"
The group ran inside to find the vault almost completely emptied. Chests were open and bare. Tables meant to hold items had nothing upon them. All that remained were a handful of iron weapons with scratched-at sockets, whatever gems that were once inlaid now pried loose. The other thieves began looking in as well, shouts and gasps of surprise coming from all of them before they backed away.
"The hundred-thousand we got," Blake realized, looking at the chest that once held their gains from a dragon hoard.
"The gold… The jewels…" Delvin quietly whispered. "It's all gone…"
"That son-of-a-bitch!" Vex shouted before whipping out her dagger, almost cutting an elf that narrowly moved out of the way. "I'll kill him!"
"Vex, put it away, right now," Brynjolf ordered her before stepping her way. "We can't afford to lose our heads. We need to calm down and focus."
"Do what he says, Vex. This ain't helpin' right now," Delvin advised, barely keeping his own anger in check.
As the woman put her blade away, Blake felt herself nearly overcome by rage. Taking a quick breath, she managed to order her thoughts and calmed herself.
'Maven never made that order,' she realized. If the old crone had, she would have likely thrown it in Blake's face at every opportunity before they happened to pull off the impossible. Mercer had done it hoping to either get rid of Blake or somehow milk her for whatever he could. 'He was playing me like a damn fiddle!'
As the other thieves went out to complete whatever tasks they were assigned, whether it was watching the entrances or informing others of their own roles, Brynjolf came up to Blake with a dour expression.
"Well, lass, looks like you weren't lying at all. It's not that I didn't believe you, but I've been working with Mercer for so long…" He sighed. "So, is there anything else I should know? If I'm going to help you track down Mercer, I need to know everything Karliah has told you. I mean everything."
Blake let out a sigh and looked at him. "All right, but… There's a lot to take in."
For the next few minutes, she explained everything she knew and learned, including what little she knew about the Nightingales and their role, as far as she understood it.
"Nightingales," he muttered while rubbing his chin. "I always assumed they were just a tale. A story to keep the young footpads in line. So, they were real this whole time…" He nodded and then crossed his arms. "Was there anything else?"
"Nothing that comes to mind, no. That's basically it."
"Then I have an important task for you," he laid out. "I need you to break into Mercer's home, and search for anything that can tell us where he's gone."
"Right, his house. I… Wait, he's gone?"
"Aye. It's been some days now. I thought he was following a trail to finding Karliah. Certainly made it sound that way. Now though, it looks like he's got something else in mind. Might be deciding to leave Skyrim entirely at this point. If he is, we aren't going to let him." The man nodded. "Anyways, get into Riftweald Manor, find what you can. But be careful about his guard. A big lout named Vald. Vex can probably help you with taking care of him. She used to know him pretty well…if you catch my meaning."
"I…wish I didn't." Blake took in a deep breath and nodded. "All right. I'll take care of it."
"Be careful lass. This is the last place in Skyrim I'd ever want to send you. Just find a way in, get the information, and leave. And you have permission to kill anyone that stands in your way."
The Faunus' eyes went wide for a moment, but then she set her face to grim determination and nodded. "I understand."
With that, Blake went and began planning, quickly getting what information she could on the place from whoever knew anything and laying out her options as she learned more. As she scribbled out her plan in a spare notebook, she felt the weapons on her side and looked to them.
When the Valtheim Towers were cleared the first time, they made for a decent place to rest. Another group of bandits had tried to set up within them, but were run out even quicker than the first bunch. Now, they were being patrolled by a new group, only this rabble was fairly better organized and equipped than mere bandits. While most still wore patchwork leather armor, there were several with better-kept and tougher armors, ranging from decent leather to high-quality steel and elven. Though even they rarely had full sets. Also separating them from the everyday bandit was how their weapons tended to be free of rust and tarnish. Some still were marred by time, but they were the exception rather than the norm. These men and women had set up a camp across the bridge and into the woods behind the furthest of the towers, practically turning it into a small fortress.
Aela figured out how to bypass it all fairly quickly. While it was a tiring uphill trek, the five werebeasts came up one of the more sloped edges, away from anyone who might have spotted them approaching. They then took up position behind several large stacks of crates set off to the side and began taking in their surroundings. The Silver Hand seemed to be everywhere, but already Yang was seeing some holes.
"Okay, I think I know how we can approach this," she started.
"Wait, who's in charge here?" Farkas asked in genuine curiosity.
"No one's in charge, but it is Aela's mission," Yang pointed out while looking at the other woman. "Wanna hear me out?"
Aela smiled. "Go ahead."
"Right." Yang drew a circle in the dirt and then a few smaller circles. "These guys should be meeting at the big tent over here. Now, we'll need to make sure we cut off their avenue of escape. Yngvarr, think you can head here?"
"Hey, did you hear?" a Nord asked his Orc comrade. "They said that the group with Niri and Ashpi got hit some time ago."
"I forget, who are those?"
"Niri was that timid little elf maid. Ashpi was the Omhes Khajiit slut."
"Oh, them!" The Orc grinned in memory. "That little cat was some fun while we were down there. Didn't have to worry about leaving a brat, either. Shame. What happened?"
"Well, part of it looks like they were getting too cocky about their animal wrangling, but another part looks like they were attacked. Might've been the damned Compan-"
Both went silent as something hit their skulls and sank in. Yang wrenched her two axes from them and then dragged the corpses behind the bushes she was hiding in. While the scent of fresh blood was now added to the air, she was hoping that the nearby skinner and butcher turning wild boars into pork helped to conceal it for just a moment longer. The blonde then snuck over to the main tent and looked inside. Around a large table were a little less than a dozen men and women, a few of them of advanced age, all sitting and discussing things. Listening in let her know that it was mostly inconsequential things, so she didn't pay too much attention.
'All right, Aela. Just waiting on your signal.'
As Yang settled into place in a way that wouldn't stress or cramp her muscles, a few more leaders came in and sat, leaving only one seat open for a few minutes. The last of them then came in, and everyone went quiet. He was a large Nord, with some sort of pale paint all over his face and chest that looked almost silvery. He also wore a wolfskin coat over Dwarven and steel armor, the head of it resting upon his helmet. The man walked over to the head of the table, then was seated.
"Everyone, do you know why I've called you all together?" he asked.
"After ten years, I admit, I don't even know who most of you are," a younger man said. He received both glares and laughs, but the head honcho merely nodded.
"We haven't met, Captain Gelard, because we've essentially been on the run for this entire time. We've had to be careful, otherwise our organization would've been wiped out already."
"Aye, which is why we're wondering why you've gathered us all here," an elder woman asked.
"Heh, are we finally gonna end the Companions?" Gelard asked with a smirk. While a few others seemed to cheer at the idea, their apparent leader held up his hand to demand silence.
"Our mission has never been to destroy the Companions." At their confused looks and grumblings, the man sat up straighter and put his hands upon the table. "It is and has always been the elimination of werebeasts, no matter what kind or who they are. Our mission begins and ends with the werewolves who have seized control of the Companions," he declared with a fist hitting the wood.
"Yeah, but we have to get through the other Companions to get to them," a Redguard pointed out.
"Sometimes, yes. It is unfortunate. But that's the price we'll have to pay to free them. The Companions are meant to be the heirs of Ysgrammor, but right now Hircine has his filthy claws sunken into them. This is part of why we're all here today. Right now, the number of werewolves in the Companions numbers less than half a dozen." A few seemed surprised by this, but more remained stoic as it was explained. "The Harbinger Kodlak Whitemane. Vilkas and Farkas, the twins. Aela Blackblade, the Huntress. And their newest member of the Circle, a golden-haired woman known as Yang." Sketches were set out by an assistant of sorts so that all could see their likeness. Yang noticed how hers was basically just a copy of the poster informing the guards of her status as Thane.
"What about the One-Eye?"
"Skjor the One-Eye was killed by Krev, just before his untimely demise at the hand of their newblood. This means that-"
The man was cut off by a howl that made everyone nearly jump from their seats. The elder ones calmly pulled out their silver weapons.
"That was no mere wolf," the old woman recognized as she readied a mace. Yang tensed, grabbing her axes, then an arrow came through and hit one man, quickly followed by five more, all hitting their intended targets. Some went down almost instantly, but a couple managed to push through the pain. As the Silver Hands started heading out the entrance, Yang crashed through the side and began rapidly chopping around herself, doing her best to close off her mind to the screams of pain and death and the feeling of blood splashing out from mortal wounds. The old woman tried to brain her, but Yang smashed the mace aside and swung towards her neck. The elder still had enough agility to spin out of the way, but wasn't quick enough to dodge Yang's second strike, which dug into her guts. She grunted in pain and then looked at the blonde in fury.
"Damn you…all!" she seethed before falling to the floor.
"Fall back and regroup!" the leader tried to rally them. Some came to his side, but then a black-furred shape came in and smacked two away with his claws before biting off half the head of a third. Vilkas turned to face the leader, ready to swipe through him, but as his claw came, the man drew out a battleaxe and managed to knock his arm aside. Vilkas staggered a moment, giving him enough of an opening to chop around and swipe into the werewolf's chest, getting through the special armor. As the axe blade dug in, he roared in pain and Yang screamed.
"Vilkas!" she cried out, smacking a man aside before rushing over to him. The werewolf dodged another swipe, but nearly buckled as he backed away. He made to bite at the man, but when the chomp was side-stepped, the axe was already coming around towards his neck. Yang dropped Holy Ardon and grabbed Vilkas by the tail before yanking him out of the way, letting the Silver Hand's axe hit dirt while the werewolf yelped.
"Yang…" the injured werewolf got out. Another man came up swinging, but the werewolf grabbed his arms then bit his head, crushing it.
"You go heal. I got this."
Vilkas looked like he wanted to respond, but instead his ears flattened back before he turned towards the nearby corpses. His mouth salivated, then he began ripping open chests with his claws and teeth to get at the organ beneath.
"So, you're the new one," the leader said. "Yang Xiao Long."
"What's it to you?" Yang asked as she kicked up Ardon and caught it in her hand.
"I am Agmen, Harbinger of the Silver Hand." He reared back and Yang readied herself for his swing, but rather than come straight at her like she expected, the blade went towards her ankles, forcing her back a step. As his axe came around, she blocked it under the beard of Black Whisper, then rammed the man with her shoulder, knocking them both out of the tent and bowling them both over. Yang felt herself go up and realized the man had kicked her off. She managed to land on her feet as the man rolled onto his, then brought both her axes around, only for Agmen to twist out of their way.
"If Vilkas had just faced me as a man, he may have stood a chance," the Silver Hand stated as he began slowly circling, keeping his eyes on Yang. She watched him carefully and tried to match his steps.
"What do you know about him?" she bit out.
"Just that I could never best him at arms."
Caught off-guard, Yang was almost too slow as he rushed forward, swinging the butt of the axe handle at her arm. She managed to block him, but when she took a swing, he moved in and shoved against her. Rather than be knocked over, she grabbed on and pulled him into a crushing grapple. The man tried to force his way out, but after a mere second, he instead slipped out from her grasp, leaving his wolfskin coat behind before swiping from the left. She knocked his axe over her head, then saw his armor, which almost exactly matched the same Wolf Armor that most of the Companions wore before.
"The hell…?"
"Let me guess: they didn't tell you about me. I suppose they wouldn't." He spun the battleaxe in his hands before charging her. Yang made to block his swipe, but the he pulled back in a feint before spinning it under and up. The blade hit her and knocked her back, but simply slid off of her with some sparks and a small glow of her Aura. The man's eyes actually went wide, but then he went back on the offensive. Yang pirouetted around his next swing then elbowed down onto his back. She tried to bring up Black Whisper into his face, but his own axe's head deflected it before he shoved into her again, this time smashing her back into the rockface. She heaved him off of herself and punched him, hitting his arm with a satisfying crack that brought out a scream from him.
Grunting and backing away, Agmen looked at Yang for a moment before making a run for it, but stopped when he saw the carnage being wrought by Yngvarr at the Valtheim Tower's bridge. The older Nord had gone back around and pushed into the towers to close off the only real escape route, and now he was all the way up to the center of the bridge, felling anyone who tried to get past him, either chopping into them or knocking them into the waters far below to freeze and drown.
"You're not getting out of here," Yang told the man. "Just surrender, or else."
"Do you even realize what you're doing?" he asked her as he turned back around.
"Yeah, I heard you. Werewolves leading the Companions is bad and whatever. I don't care who you think should be in charge of what. That's not a reason to go killing people."
"As opposed to letting their souls be damned?" He tried to grip his axe, but winced as his arm shifted. "Generation after generation… How much longer will it go on?"
Yang fumed. "I don't know! It doesn't matter! I'm stopping you, one way or the other! You can come quietly, or you can fight me and lose!"
"Maybe, maybe not. If not…tell Skjor I'm sorry."
The man's hand grabbed something at his side and brought it to his mouth, biting off the cork and downing it as Yang moved to stop him or capitalize on the opening. He finished it just before she reached him and knocked one axe off course only to get the other in his thigh. With a yell, his fist came around and slammed into her cheek, hitting her with enough force to knock her aside despite its injury. Yang stumbled then blocked his axe as it came at her with far more force than before. Her nose picked up whatever potion he'd drank, and her eyes widened as she recognized a mix of skooma, mushrooms, and a plethora of things she would never willingly consume.
"What did you…" His foot kicked out and connected with her stomach, sending her backwards before he rushed her again. She met his axe with hers then shoved him aside before chopping at his arm. He managed to knock it aside, sending Black Whisper flying and leaving Yang with one axe. She took Ardon in two hands and made an upward swing, splitting part of his armor and cutting skin, but not seeming to slow him down.
"What the hell did you drink?!" she screamed as she blocked his next attack. As she twisted out of it, her left fist came around and hit his arm again, this time visibly breaking it. The man continued attacking her, however, even with his effectiveness essentially halved. After sidestepping a few swings, Yang managed to grasp his axe's handle and swung Holy Ardon into his gut. He shouted, but seemed to push on through it and headbutted Yang, who let go of the weapon and backed up before taking out Fiery Kain. Even with an axe in his body, he continued trying to attack Yang, who by now had gotten used to his berserker state and easily dodged him before using Kain to swipe off his other arm. He shouted and snarled as blood gushed from the stump, but when he seemed to try and attack, he stumbled and fell to his knees. Yang saw his dilated eyes return to normal, then his gaze went down to the axe in his gut.
"Damn," he grunted as he tried to stay up right. His broken arm moved, but it was clear that it pained him to even try. Yang huffed a few times before looking around herself to see that it was mostly all over. The Silver Hand on Valtheim Mountain had been slaughtered, and now the Companions were coming towards her.
"It's not over," she heard Agmen say before turning back to him. "Listen to me, Companion. It's not over."
"What? You're going to tell me more Silver Hand are out there. I know this isn't all of you."
"No. No. I meant this fight. I was trying…to save the Companions."
"Save them?" she growled out. "You've been trying to kill us!"
"As long as werewolves are at the head of the Companions, there will be those who seek to remove them." He grunted as he forced his body to stop leaning towards the left, his knees spreading a little further to hold him up as his visible skin paled from the blood loss. "I only wanted the werewolves gone, so that the Companions could be as they are meant to be. Tell me, Yang Xiao Long, can you go to Sovngarde and join the ranks of those who have come before you?" He looked up at her eyes, even as he gasped all the harder for breath. "Werewolves belong to Hircine, even those Harbingers who have led the Companions. It will not stop. Not…not if you continue to make every generation after you…one of you."
Yang felt the expression on her face soften a bit. The man continued to look at her, as though hoping for something.
"Book… In the blue tent with…silver lines. My journal… Read it. Please…don't…" The man's breath fell short, and he fell over slowly as the others came up to Yang's side.
"Shor's Bones," Aela muttered. "It is Agmen."
"So we were right," Farkas said as he walked up to the dead man. "He ran to the Silver Hand. Didn't think he'd end up leading them."
"He was still a savage with that axe, though," Vilkas added, having returned to his human form. "Lucky that Yang pulled me out of that one. Are you all right?"
"Yeah," the blonde quietly answered him. "Just… Some things I need to check for before we go." She started to walk away, but then paused in her steps. "We should…do something about all of the bodies."
"We'll get a pyre going," Yngvarr stated as he walked up to Agmen's corpse, leaning down next to it and then pulling Holy Ardon free. After he handed it over to Yang, he patted her shoulder. "You all right, lass?"
"Just some things to think about. He said some stuff, and now that the fights over…"
"It's all right. Go find whatever you're looking for. We'll handle this for right now."
Yang nodded and then set off to find what Agmen had pointed her towards. If nothing else, she figured she needed some insight into what he was talking about.
Weiss felt her wings flapping against the wind in the strangest sensation she had ever felt. Before, her wings had seemed vestigial, almost decorative. But now they were long and filled with the skin that other Vampire Lords appeared to lack. They seemed to scoop at the air, pushing Weiss forward in conjunction with the vampire magic that held her aloft several feet above the ground. Now she felt like she could have taken to the sky if she really wanted to, though she wasn't sure of how well she could pull that off. Still, just the thought of being able to truly fly was an adored, if novel, idea.
Her mind was dragged away from its elated state when Solitude began coming into view, forcing her to land and assume her human form. She was on yet another mission, one that hopefully shouldn't take too long. Garan had information that some coven of 'wild' vampires had sprouted up in Haafingar and were beginning to wreak havoc around Solitude and nearby villages. Weiss wasn't sure why they cared so much, but when asked it was explained that too much attention was already on the area, and the coven was acting without restraint. If they were left to their own devices, it could bring other forces in the area and eventually lead them to the Castle, setting them back by who knows how long. While Weiss wouldn't mind the Volkihar getting set back, there was the fact that this coven was indiscriminately killing around a dozen and a half people every week. They needed to be stopped and quickly. Harkon had also told her to make haste. He didn't want her taking too long finding it, as he felt they were nearly ready for 'the next stage'.
Weiss feared what he meant by that, but put it out of her mind as she entered the town gates. Sunlight was coming over the horizon, touching her skin and making her wince a little, but bringing no real pain or discomfort to her.
"Well, that was useless," the vampire muttered as she left the Bard's College. There was a Breton there she knew was a vampire, but either he was thick as frozen molasses, really good and dedicated to hiding it, or was just somehow unaware that he was a vampire. She highly doubted he had known where the coven might be anyways. Garan had said they were acting more akin to wild animals, whereas Edwayne was of aristocratic stock, closer to her and Harkon's ilk, as terrible as it was to think of them as similar. As she ruminated in her thoughts, a pair of guards approached her, one with his hand out to gain her attention.
"Excuse me, but you've been summoned to the Blue Palace," he told her as she turned to them. "We ask that you come with us."
"To the palace?" The heiress was unsure why anyone would be calling her there. It wasn't like she had made her presence loud and proud. She hadn't even dropped by the manor to let the servants and tenants there know about her. "Who has asked for me?"
"The Court Mage," he answered simply. Weiss hummed in thought, wondering what the Court Mage of Solitude could possibly want with her, but then decided to just roll with it for now. If she was lucky, perhaps the mage had a lead on her current task.
"Very well. Take me to them." As the guards led Weiss through the streets and towards the palace, she tried to recall what she knew about the Court Mage. She was pretty certain from what Ruby had said it was a woman, but that was about the extent of it. They went through the palace entrance and then off to the side, stopping at the door of a large laboratory setup. A Breton looked up at them and waved towards the guards.
"Thank you, men. You may go." They nodded their heads and left, leaving Weiss alone with the woman.
"You are the Court Mage," Weiss stated in greeting.
"I am. Sybille Stentor, Court Mage of Solitude."
"Weiss Schnee. So, what did you want to meet me for?"
Rather than answering, Sybille waved a hand and telekinetically shut the door behind Weiss. The blancette quickly reached for her sword, but the mage before her held out her hands in a placating gesture.
"Listen, if I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have had you brought straight to me. We just needed some more privacy. Silence and muffling charms aren't as effective when the door is open."
Weiss mentally reached out and felt the weave of magic running through the room and its walls. She let go of Strahlendjuwel's hilt and went back to a normal stance. Sybille nodded at this, and continued.
"As for what this is about, I noticed you poking around, little vampire." Her eyes widened and she looked straight at the Breton. "I do have to commend you, however, on your disguise. You even managed to shift your eyes' colors back to normal."
"How did you know?" Weiss asked.
"I always know, usually. You'd have to be exceptional to slip past all the wards and magical scry-orbs I have set everywhere. Even then, I would have found you snooping around." She crossed her arms at that. "Speaking of, don't worry about Edwayne. He's…under control, for lack of a better term."
"You know about him, too." Weiss took on a thoughtful expression then pulled the magic through her, casting Detect Undead. Sybille lit up slightly in her eyes, indicating her undeath. The mage noticed and let out a dry laugh.
"Well, at this range, you saw it." She pulled back her hood and Weiss saw the intense orange of her irises. "Yes, I'm a vampire. I've been one for decades, now."
"Yes." Weiss let go of the magic. "Well, in that case, maybe you can help me. You wouldn't happen to know about a certain group of vampires in the area?"
"Who's asking? And I mean, who sent you to find them?" While Weiss thought about how to answer, Sybille took a few steps towards her. "It was Harkon, wasn't it?"
The heiress winced and tried to think of a way to skirt around the issue. "Yes, I'm…here on his behalf."
"Surprised he sent another one of his acolytes after what happened last time."
"I'm not an… I mean…"
"Yes, I figured as much. I've seen you and the Dragonborn Thane together more than a few times, as well as those other associates of hers. I may not know exactly what you're doing, but I know someone working towards subversion when I see it. While I can't suggest it's a smart route, I suppose it's, at the very least, an honorable one." The Court Mage nodded and then put her hands to her hips. "So, he's culling again? Well then, we have the same enemy here. I'll show you where they are."
Weiss was a little surprised by that. "You know where they are? You haven't told anyone?"
"I only found them… Well, one of them came to me and told me. Seemed decent enough, although by his words he more missed the amenities of life than any actual compunctions. Well, I've made sure he's taken care of, but now it's time to take care of the rest before my standing in the Court takes any more hits."
Weiss scoffed. "You're worried about your standing while people are dying?"
"Yes, because my standing can prevent yet more death," Sybille shot back. "I've been at this a long, long time, since the younger years of High King Istlod. I've done my best to keep the vampire presence in Haafingar…quiet." Her eyes narrowed as she looked down to the side. "Ever since I was turned, I've kept at this. I ensured that little about my life changed, save a few more responsibilities and necessities. One of those is keeping the local vampires in line and…ousting the parasites whenever the need arises. Unfortunately, the Volkihar are no simple chaff, and they've started mobilizing for whatever gods-forsaken plot they've been brewing. Something I can't really hope to stymie. Then Potema, the most infamous necromancer in Skyrim's history, nearly returned from the grave, with a dozen vampires fighting for her sake, right beneath Solitude's nose. Underneath my nose. Now, what was once a solid foundation built on decades of trust and goodwill has become…shaky, as of late."
"People know?" Weiss asked, slightly surprised at hearing how Sybille refused to let her vampirism significantly alter her life. Most of the others she had met succumbed to it in some form or fashion, either as monsters or amoral minions. Even the few she met who retained their morality in some sense of the word seemed dedicated to curing themselves of their ailment above most everything else. It almost sounded like Sybille was treating her vampirism as little more than a chronic illness. The sort with a bad reputation attached, but still.
In a way, it was what Weiss at the very least wanted.
"People in the court know. The ones who need to, for the most part. It's gotten a bit harder to keep secret as the years go by. People tend to notice when someone who isn't an elf doesn't age for decades. It's not important. What is important is getting rid of these vampires."
"I agree, just… Nevermind. It's something for later." Weiss refocused on the task at hand, shelving away thoughts of questions lining up for Sybille. "Where exactly is this coven?"
Once again, Weiss was flying through the forests, heading towards Pinemoon Cave. The smell of blood hit her long before it came into view, and when it did, she swooped in and felt her body correct itself. Her clawed feet touched the ground and then she shifted back. A vampire saw her enter and dropped what he was doing to turn towards her and begin backing up hesitantly. Two wolves came up and snarled at her, but already Weiss was summoning up a Boarbatusk. As the summon appeared, the wolves charged and the pig-like apparition rolled into its spin attack. The canines were practically shredded by the Grimm, and the vampire made a run for it.
Weiss went after him, her summon just in front of her. When they came out in an open area, there were several more vampires who had just been roused from their own activities by their fellow. Some began taking out rusted weapons, but others backed away. Weiss could tell what they were feeling as she approached. A part of her realized that these vampires were weaklings, barely stronger than the farmers they ganged up on and drained dry.
The fear on their faces was feeding a part of Weiss she wanted to keep down. She wasn't here to grind them in the dirt underneath her heels. She was here to remove a threat. A threat that the bled-out corpse on a table and mutilated human and elf body parts attested to. Her summon began spinning again, aiming for the nearest vampire, and Weiss readied the flaming magic in her right hand while drawing her rapier in her left.
Wings beating against wind. Body soaring through clouds. A storm against a Voice, and a roar to the sky.
Sky
A curve towards the mountains. A turn above the tree line. Sauntering towards earth, then lifting towards the sky.
Sky
Feet pushed against rock and snow, lifting a body into the air. Rain pelted against scales and lightning struck about, all called by another Voice. A Shout rang to clear the sky.
Sky
The sky is open. The sky is free. The sky is above all, even the dragons who may touch it. The sky holds life-giving rains and destructive storms. The sky guides the winds and mind.
Sky
The purest of skies are those without anything to fill them. No clouds or rain.
Clear as the sky.
"Lok!" Ruby felt it leap from her throat in sudden understanding. From the spot where she was seated, she could see her Thu'um reaching towards the heavens, spreading out until it was no longer visible. As she gasped for air and stared above, she saw the few clouds hanging above them begin to dissolve far more rapidly than she could have imagined. After a few seconds of watching this and the clear sky left hanging afterward, she began hearing footsteps coming through the snow toward her and turned to see the Greybeards approaching.
"Dragonborn," Argneir said with a bow of his head as they neared. "You are ready."
"Lok… Vah… Koor…" the speaker of the Greybeards Shouted in whispers at the stone, revealing the ancient inscription beneath the snow like fresh emblazonments.
'Sky. Spring. …Summer.'
As Ruby read the words to herself, Argneir turned towards her.
"I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies. This is your final gift from us, Dragonborn. Use it well."
"Thank you, Master Argneir."
They bowed towards each other, then the Greybeard took in a deep breath before Ruby began to feel the linking between them. The other Greybeards had done it before to help her understand, but this time she was being granted the full understanding of two Words at once, even if she had already begun to understand them herself. As the connection between the two faded, Ruby looked up towards the gate leading to her goal.
"Clear Skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time," he warned her. "The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit."
Ruby nodded to him and began to climb up the steps to the gate. When she reached it, she felt inside of her chest as she took in a deep breath, imagining a sky clearer than any she had ever seen, an endless blue outstretched before her.
"Lok! Vah! Koor!" she Shouted. Immediately, the cold misty winds that had once blocked her way cleared before her, and she began to walk.
The path before her wound its way around the mountain, occasionally requiring Ruby to Shout once again to keep it clear of the mists creeping back in. As she went, the circles grew smaller, and she could feel the air growing thinner. Yet her breath never faltered, always deep enough to keep her going and Shout back the cold that threatened to engulf her.
As she came upon the peak, she saw before her the remains of a wall, worn by time yet still standing. The very peak was just within her sight, and she began walking towards it, pausing in her steps when a massive shadow passed overhead. She turned around just as the ground shook, but then came a memory, and a smile stretched across her face.
"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin."
"Drem Yol Lok," she greeted the dragon, "Paarthurnax."
7th of Evening Star
And there you have it! We've made it to Paarthurnax! =D
Always remember xTRESTWHOx and NaanContributor