Phew, this is something we've been working towards for a long while. I've literally been planning how to get to this for years now. Credit to xTRESTWHOx and NaanContributor for pulling me through it.
Chapter 87: Take Heart
17th of Morning Star
Ruby was sitting in the stone seats that overlooked the arena where Red Eagle had been facing his challengers. Yang had already made her challenge, despite everything Ruby and the others had said trying to dissuade her, and they were preparing for their match that would happen in the afternoon. With Yang's growing fame and Madanach's backing, few spoke out against her. The ones who did tried to argue that she was just some Nord looking to take control of the Reach, but it was Red Eagle himself who shot that down. He pointed out her hair and eyes, saying her hair was too 'bright and golden' for the Nords, and that violet was never seen in their eyes. In the end, though, he declared it unimportant and accepted her challenge. Ruby suspected that even if a Nord like Aela had challenged him, he would've accepted it.
She remembered how hard she tried to convince Yang not to do it. Weiss and Blake too, but they had slowly given in. Blake first when Yang rationalized that, if none of them did something about the situation, then Faolan was almost certainly going to cut a bloody swath through the Reach. If the Forsworn were like a hyper-aggressive version of the White Fang, then their revived king was going to lead them into a conflict that would make the Faunus Rights Revolution look like a polite disagreement.
Weiss was more indirectly swayed by Yang's determination, and eventually changed tacks. Rather than argue when she realized there was no getting Yang to back down, she offered to help, reminding her that, like with Reachcliff Run, this was a responsibility she was taking upon her shoulders. Only with this, it would be a far larger network, with more than just a handful of scattered woodsmen to worry about.
For Ruby's part, she simply couldn't figure out a logical argument. Yang's case was solid as far as she could see. This was their problem, whether they cared to admit it or not. Ruby and Weiss had gone and fought Duncan and let Artur return the sword. Even if they hadn't, and Duncan was still alive and sacrificing innocents in his mad quest, Yang's actions would have freed Madanach. With the old king, it might have been slower, but he had planned to reorganize and wage war on the Nords once they were ready, even if it took more years than he had left on this world. Either way would have led to another war that would have torn up the Reach, cutting the Empire off from High Rock, disrupting many of their supply lines, and giving the Stormcloaks a huge advantage in the other war that they really did not want to mess with.
In the end, the only real reason she could come up with was that she didn't want her sister risking her life in this conflict, but what was that compared to the thousands at risk if left on its own? Part of her wanted to cry and scream and shout at the unfairness of it all, and she was almost sure that it had nothing to do with the draconic part of her soul. Frustrated at being unable to so much as come up with a decent point that hadn't already been countered thrice over, Ruby hugged her legs to herself and pressed her forehead to her knees.
"Ain't lost something, I hope," a rough but feminine voice said. Ruby opened her eyes and looked over to see an oddly out-of-place person. The woman was wearing armor mostly made from Dwemer metals, pieced together with strips of hide and thin ropes in a way that might have looked cobbled together, but to Ruby's eyes was actually very well done. The plates covered every vital area, the hides were placed so that she could retain mobility, and the ropes were wound and tied in knots that held as stiff as needed in a way that would be hard to cut in a small number of slashes.
"No," the Dragonborn answered, letting her legs down with a sigh. She decided to focus on the stranger, hoping to distract her mind from running in circles again. "You're wearing Dwemer armor. I thought Reachfolk didn't like metal stuff or going underground."
"Misconceptions," the woman told her with a shake of her head. "It's wrong to rip metals out of the earth just to try and make things easier for ourselves, and the underground places of still air are treacherous, but I ain't done none of that." She rapped her knuckles against the bowl of her chest plate. "My clan, Stonesingers, are experts at delving into the Dwemer caves and hunting their metal creatures."
Ruby blinked at that. "Uh, they're not really 'creatures'."
"Aren't they?" the woman posed. "They move about, defend their territory, and make more of themselves. Sure, you can't eat them, but they have other uses." The woman then lifted her other arm, and Ruby gasped. She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed before, but the Stonesinger's left arm was bronze and skeletal from just above the elbow down. It was slightly off, being a little longer than her natural one, letting Ruby know it wasn't specifically designed for her, if it was even made for the purpose it served now in the first place.
"How did you…?" Ruby wasn't sure how to ask how the woman apparently got a prosthetic arm in a society that didn't have engineering knowledge beyond simple pulleys and cranks. Frankly, she was surprised it was as mobile as it was, but that could be chalked up to some unknown magic she wasn't aware of.
"Eh, lost the old one to one of the beetles. Got an arm off one of its passengers after they bandaged me up, and the shaman put it on for me." She just shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "But enough about me and mine, what had you looking so glum? Friend or relative decided to challenge Ard Faolan?"
At Ruby's downcast look, her eyes widened.
"Ah, Bridea burn me, that was insensitive of me. Are they alright?"
"She hasn't fought him yet," Ruby answered.
"Oh? Oh! You're talking about that Yang woman. That's...your sister? Okay, now that I look at you, you have the same sort of face."
Ruby chortled sadly at that. "Most people don't notice."
"Well, it's not all bad. She hasn't fought him yet, and if what I heard is right, she might actually put up a good fight."
"I know she will, but...I'm scared for her." Under the woman's curious gaze, Ruby continued, "She's strong. She is probably one of the strongest people in the world, but I don't know what's going to happen. Red Eagle is strong, too. We saw him...do things we didn't think anyone in Tamriel could do so casually, and it barely scratched the surface. I fought a man who was crazy powerful, who I had to go all out to beat. With help. And people say that Red Eagle outshines him in every way."
"Ah, the Madman of the Karth. I've heard rumors of that." The woman nodded and sat down while crossing her mismatched arms. "So, you've had a taste of some powerful Briarheart's strength, and you're afraid of what that means for your sis going against the First?"
"Yeah," the younger girl quietly answered.
"Well, are you throwing your support behind her?"
Ruby was caught flat-footed by the question. Of course she hadn't supported her sister's decision, she had just stopped arguing against it and trying to convince Yang to not go through with it. Thinking back, though, it was obvious that Yang wasn't happy about the whole ordeal. She had just thought - and perhaps rightly so - that it was their responsibility to fix what they had caused, and Red Eagle's challenge was the best opportunity to do so with the least amount of bloodshed. But at the cost of doing things legitimately in the eyes of the Reachfolk, she would have to do it all on her own.
"I...haven't," she finally admitted, feeling disappointment in herself rising.
"Perhaps that's just what she needs right about now, then," the Stonesinger told her. "She is, after all, about to have the fight of her life this afternoon."
"I...think you're right," the young Huntress said before rising to her feet and looking over to where some of the other members of her team were hanging about. "Thanks for talking to me. I needed that."
Ruby started to walk towards the others with purpose, but then paused and looked back at the Reachwoman. "Sorry, but...I never got your name."
"Call me Wolfheart, Miss Ruby Rose," she answered with a smile. "The right folks will know who you're talking about if you mention that name."
"Thanks again, Miss Wolfheart," Ruby said with her own smile. "You really helped me out like you don't know."
"Eh, I have a good idea."
"This is simply astounding," Weiss muttered while looking over the bronze, horse-shaped construct the Stonesingers called a Vamidium. There were others, mostly horses, but also a scarab, a couple of bears, and even guar-shaped ones. "How do you manage to control these things?"
"'Bout like you ride a horse," the pepper-bearded man in Dwemer-made armor answered her. "The stirrups here move in and out, and when you push 'em in and lean 'em forward, that lets the beasty know you wanna move forward," he explained while demonstrating. "Gotta do both at the same time, though. And the reins let you steer. They're not dumb either. They can definitely see, and they'll go around trees and whatnot." He smiled then patted the bronze horse's neck and rubbed it, almost like he was interacting with a normal animal.
"So you have ageless mounts that need no rest or food?" Weiss realized in amazement, plans circulating in her mind about possibly unearthing or replicating the vehicular animunculli.
"Well, every once in a while we gotta feed them some of that oil," he admitted. "They got these lights on the necks that let us know, so we gotta go get them oil from the Dwemer caves. One man fed his some whale oil once, just to see if it worked. It filled it up, but it was spitting out smoke for weeks. Worked perfectly fine, but wasn't pleasant to be around."
"Dwemer oil must be far more refined than what is available in Tamriel's current industry," Weiss figured. "Not sure if it's fuel or just needed to keep the cogs greased."
"I thought Reachfolk didn't like going in unnatural underground structures?" Blake asked the man.
"Who said they were unnatural?" he proposed back.
"Well, they were made by Dwemer," Blake told him.
"You ever seen a Dwemer? I haven't." At Blake's confused look, he laughed. "Nah, I know they made them, but think about it. They've been gone almost as long as Men have lived in the Reach. All of 'em puffed away one day and were never seen again, but their old buildings are still there. Their old, metal creatures still walk around, making more of themselves. The so-called 'ruins' keep themselves up. Maybe they was unnatural when they were made, but they're here to stay now, part of the world and self-sustaining. It's a living thing, made by a people who went back to being spirits. Not all that different than the ones carved out by the spirits who just stayed that way the whole time."
"That's...a rather unique way of looking at it," Weiss commented while rubbing her chin in thought.
"Oh, it is. Other clans think we're crazy for it." The man laughed while thumbing towards the iron and steel-clad Men and Minotaurs of the Dreadhorn clan a little ways away. "But making swords and armor from lava and magma is perfectly acceptable."
"I was wondering a bit about that as well."
"You know, all the history stuff I read failed to mention Minotaurs being...accepted as Reachfolk," Blake mused, looking at a handful of Dreadhorns that would have easily been mistaken for Faunus, being mostly human with just horns, tails, hooves, or some combination. One man even had just a bull-nose and nothing else.
"Being a Reacher is less about blood and more a way of life," the man told her. "Ask any Vateshran and they'll give you a history of triumph over suffering."
"Hearing it from the Nords, you'd think all Reachmen were evil," Blake complained.
"Oh don't get me wrong, plenty of evil Reachmen," he said, catching her off-guard. "Got those cannibal tribes here and there. Had some child sacrificers a decade ago that the Rageclaws ran out, killing almost the whole tribe. Wildspears will hunt people as surely as any animal, if not more eagerly. Don't get me started on those Ghostbloods."
"Very well, I wo-"
"Pretty sure the only thing keeping those lovers of the Old Scratcher Daighsenn from going too far is the threat of the Timberclaws and Grimfangs getting together to destroy them."
"I...see what you're saying," Blake told the man. "I had a run-in with cannibals recently."
"Nasty business that. Never quite understood it." The man grimaced, then he added, "Did you know some southern wizard once researched the effects of cannibalism and found that not only can you get brain diseases, but people aren't even good for eating? The meat's practically all empty. Just ain't no point in doing it save to get on Namira's better side, which is just as dark as her bad side, so no point at all if you ain't starved to death."
"I think I know the research you're talking about," Weiss said. "Back home, we had similar research done and came to the same conclusions."
She would've gone on, but both Yang and Ruby were approaching from opposite ends of the redoubt. Yang had dressed in the special armor gifted to her by the old king of the Reachmen. The bone and antler circlet sat on her head and its feathers seemed to almost blend into her hair, which was tied at the end to keep it from free-flowing too much. The leggings and bone-studded bracers covered most of her limbs, leaving only a bit of her shoulders exposed along with her shoeless feet, and her bare hands with the subtle gleam of the Ring of Hircine on her finger, alongside a couple of others.
"You're barefoot," Weiss noted idly.
"They wouldn't stretch enough," Yang explained to her. "The gloves and pants will be okay, I tested them out. They have just enough breathing room to let me morph my limbs if I need the extra oomph."
"Uh, Yang," Blake warned her while nodding her head towards the Stonesinger.
"Oh, it's okay. Reachfolk are a lot cooler with werewolves."
"I wouldn't say we're cold about it," the man spoke up. "Half the River-Hands are probably werebears, and the Glade-Stalkers are practically nothing but assorted werebeasts."
"No, cool means you're okay with it," Yang told him, long since used to giving that clarification.
"Oh. Odd way to say it. 'Cool.' Hm, maybe it works. Not hot-headed, not cold-hearted. Just 'cool.'"
Yang chortled a bit, then turned as Ruby came up to them.
"Hey Rubes. You alright?"
Rather than answer immediately, the younger sister walked up and wrapped Yang in a hug. The blonde was surprised, but after a moment, she wrapped her arms around Ruby as well.
"Come on, don't get all mushy," Yang told her as they separated.
"It's not that," Ruby told her, rubbing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I...didn't want you to go through with this, but you were right. We have to do something about it." She smiled up at her, a tinge of sadness in the expression. "I'm a little ashamed I didn't think of it first, now."
"Hey, don't be like that," Yang told her, rubbing her head. "It doesn't matter who did what. I'm the one who decided to do it, so I'll do it." A look of consternation took over her for a moment then. "But hey, if I lose-"
"Nope," Ruby quickly said, reaching up and taking Yang's hand into hers. "Nope, you're not going to lose this. You're going to win. I know it, because you're brave and determined. You've got the guts to see this through and the brains to know how hard it really will be." She let go of the hand. "And you're strong. You're the strongest person I know. I've gotten dragon souls and a mammoth blessing thing, and you're still stronger than me."
"I wouldn't say that," Yang objected. "You've got other strengths. I could never be as fast as you, for one thing."
"I know, but still, I just want you to know I believe in you. I believe you can win this."
Yang looked at her sister, then smiled warmly and said, "Thanks, sis. It means a lot to me."
"Though now, I have to ask, what are you wearing?" Ruby asked while poking at the raven skull on Yang's shawl-like necklace.
"Oh, it's the Armor of the Old Gods," Yang told her, fingering the pendant for a moment. "It's got some nifty enchantments, and it's a good bit lighter than the expanding armor. I figured since this is a fight where I know what the opponent is using, I needed more mobility than tankiness. Plus, it's recognizably Reachfolk-made, so it'll definitely help with my image with the naysayers."
"I'll say," Capric said, coming in from the edge of the crowd. "So, I haven't had the opportunity to ask you personally, but I hear you're challenging Faolan to become King of the Reach."
"Wouldn't it be queen?" Ruby asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Kinda, but the Reachmen concept of a 'queen' is a bit different from most other cultures," the half-elf explained to her. "The word would be 'arda,' but that translates almost directly to 'female king,' whereas the 'queen' would be called something like 'Rondard' or 'Rondarda' which effectively means 'bonded to the king.'"
"Why do you know that?" Blake asked him.
"I haven't been just sitting around this whole time, you know. I've been studying, interviewing, gathering information. I assume you've done similar, seeing as you've been talking with the Stonsinger clan."
"We have, actually," Weiss told him. "I'm hoping to study one of these Vamidiums up close. Perhaps even purchase one."
"Two thousand gold pieces," the Stonesinger man offered.
"Deal!" Weiss half-shouted while spinning back to face him.
"Damn, if I knew you were that eager… Well, not going back on my word," he sighed.
"Will you accept ebons?"
"Okay, that just happened," Capric muttered while Weiss and the Reachman discussed payment and which particular animunculus they were trading. "So, the rumors are true, then?"
"Oh, about me challenging Faolan? Yeah, I did that," Yang admitted.
"I do hope you understand what you're getting into here."
"Yeah, we've been over it a time or two. I get that he's powerful and all, but-"
"He's not just powerful," Capric interrupted her, his voice firm. "He is the first of the Briarhearts. Back on Remnant, the first of anything is usually a prototype or experimental, immediately outdone by everything modeled after it. But in Tamriel, being the first of something usually gives it extreme significance, and grants it power through mythopeic means."
"Mytho what now?" Ruby asked, confused by the term.
"In short, the stories and tales about something can give those things power," he explained. "Nirn works on a whole different set of physics. Here stories and tales hold weight in the real world, and can push it to fit those narratives. And the Reach have been telling tales about Red Eagle since the day he died, maybe even before. Tales about him defeating a Legion while, and I quote, 'alone and robed in nothing but his righteous fury,' before he was finally defeated."
Yang snorted while Ruby blushed at the recent memory. "Well, they certainly got an eyeful if that was all he was wearing," Yang joked while Blake shook her head.
"Yes, that was quite a sight," Weiss remarked before blushing herself. She then cleared her throat. "I think it's safe to say though, that the tale is definitely exaggerated. And while the idea of mythopeic forces sounds like a curveball this world would love to throw at us, I highly doubt it's gone so far as to make Faolan a truly unconquerable foe."
"Maybe not, but I still advise caution," he warned them. "I dare say he'll be the single strongest mortal foe you'll ever fight one-on-one."
"Thanks for the warning, but I think I'm doing all I can to take him on," Yang told him. "Gonna warm up at the arena soon, too. Get used to the feeling of the stone under my feet and all while I limber up."
"It's the little details," he agreed with a nod. "Well, didn't expect this to be how I'd spend my birthday, cheering for a young woman to beat a legendary king to a pulp."
"It's your birthday?" Ruby asked in surprise.
"Tomorrow is, actually," he confessed. "Still, I feel like we're all going to be here tomorrow, win or lose."
"Well, now I feel like I need to get you something."
"No need. Vertina already insisted on making a cake. That's more than enough."
"Just a cake?"
"You've never seen a Harpy bake before."
As time closed in for the match, Yang spent the last few minutes finishing her preparations. For the entire day, she had been readying herself for the fight. She ate lightly, drank some water, made sure to go to the bathroom ahead of time, took a shower in the Refuge, and went through light stretches throughout the day to keep herself limber and not let any part of her go stiff. The past hour or so included walking and jumping on the arena so she would grow used to the feeling of it underfoot. She was certain she was as prepared as she could physically be given the circumstances.
Opposite to her, Red Eagle just waited. He had eaten a few berries offered to him, just savoring the taste as he sat and watched the comings and goings. Several men and women had spoken with him, most with awe in their eyes and voices. Their reverence of him was obvious, and even the least enamored spoke to him with respect. From what she heard, a few had made challenges for later, certain that he was going to come out victorious against her. Apparently most of them simply wanted to test themselves against the legendary man, despite the fact that he tended to kill one out of every ten challengers even when visibly holding back, at least. Yang could only mentally shake her head at the bravado.
'If I win- When I win, I've gotta make sure people don't do that sort of thing with me.'
Of course, tradition was that a newly named Ard would be granted a year unchallenged to run the tribe, or in this case the Reach, save for cases where there was serious abuse of power or neglect. After that, there would only be one required answer to a challenge every month, and the challengers would need the backing of the people to be taken seriously. Faolan's constant acceptance of challenges - with today as an exception set aside for Yang - was effectively a message that he was more than strong enough to lead the entirety of the Reachfolk's clans and tribes, and there were none better for the job. The fact that he decided today he would only fight Yang meant that he was taking her seriously. He had heard the rumors and possibly even the first-hand accounts about what she'd done, and believed she needed special attention. It was simultaneously flattering and unnerving.
"The challenge begins!" the old Vateshran announced, stopping the idle chatter around the area and drawing everyone's attention to him.
"Our great king faces today an unlikely challenger. A member of the Companions of Ysgramor-" Many in the crowd jeered at that, but the lore-keeper continued unabated, "the liberator of Karthwasten, bane of the Silver-Bloods, and rescuer of Madanach."
Now, many were cheering. Some didn't look placated by her more favorable titles, but others were overjoyed. For some, it was the uprooting of that clan nearly all Reachfolk vilified and equated as the physical manifestation of the worst the Nords had to offer. For others, it was the fact that there was someone out there who had fought for them without expecting praise, glory, and gold, to the point of imprisonment.
"Her name is Yang Xiao Long, the Golden Wolf!"
At the Vateshran's announcement, Yang's supporters broke out into louder cheers, while her many detractors booed. Ruby, however, was taken aback and looked around as her eyes widened.
"Wait, how'd he know that?" Ruby asked in fright.
"He's probably referencing the wolf insignias of the Companions," Weiss whispered to her.
"Today, she challenges Faolan, the Red Eagle, for the Antlered Throne! May the Old Gods watch o'er this battle!"
The old man exited the arena, and Faolan entered it. He wore little armor, just red cloth shorts, a pair of boots, and a leather vest piece with thick straps that crossed over his torso, covering his pecs and holding a metal cap over his heart, hiding it from an easy blow. Upon looking Yang over, the revived king hummed in interest.
"You bring no weapon?"
"Just these," Yang answered as she held up her fists and activated Ember Celica, now hefting a little more weight she hadn't felt in months thanks to Ruby and Weiss' hurried efforts. "And maybe a bit of fire."
"Ah, I see."
He lifted up his sword then slung his arm back, tossing it away so that it landed tip first in a stone, hilt pointed straight at the sky. Yang blinked for a second, then watched as Faolan took a martial arts stance that she could vaguely recognize. His forearms were held up at either side of his head, fists held high, left leg forward, right leg back. Yang grunted then straightened out her own stance.
"I will fight you on even standing, fist to fist."
"I've still got these gauntlets," she pointed out to him, turning her right wrist back and forth a bit.
"A small advantage," he admitted.
Yang said nothing in response, deciding instead to take whatever edge she could.
"Fighters ready!" the Vateshran yelled from the bottom of the stone stands. "Begin!"
For a second, neither moved. The entire redoubt seemed to quiet down. Yang's vision zeroed in, looking for a single shift in movement or an opening. Red Eagle was as still as a statue for what seemed like an eternity, but then she caught movement. She shot forward, firing real Dust behind her for what felt like the first time in forever, the familiar feeling of launching herself forward coming to her as she closed the distance between her and the Briarheart near instantly. Her right fist came around, bringing with it all of the momentum of her launch and the spin she made, getting around his arm before he could adjust and smashing against his jaw. The man lurched with the hit, and for a second, Yang felt elated that this might be far easier than she originally anticipated.
Faolan's foot then moved, stomping down as he turned his face back to Yang. Immediately, she noticed that he didn't even look hurt. His eyes locked onto her, then his right fist came down. Yang blocked with her arms, but then his left came up in an uppercut that rammed into her diaphragm. Yang hacked as the air was knocked out of her and she was sent backwards. She stumbled a moment, and then looked back up at her opponent as she fought for breath. To her and the rest of her team, who knew her strength and tolerance for pain, the idea that the man she faced once fought off armies alone did not seem quite as far-fetched as it had not so long ago.
Yang sucked in air quickly as she prepared herself. Faolan went on the offensive and leapt towards her, the stones shaking under them both at his takeoff. Yang side-stepped and made two quick jabs at his torso, forcing him to step back and guard himself. She made to step back as well, but then he moved in, jabbing towards her face, but pulling back in a feint when she went to guard, his other fist coming forward and hitting the sides of her ribs. As she was sent reeling, he then made a sweeping kick that sent her tumbling in the air. She was on her way to recovering her footing when she felt a tight grip on her heel, and then she was being slung over the man and slammed into the floor on the other side of him. Yang cried out in pain as she bounced up and turned over while gasping.
Her respite was extremely short-lived, as she was forced to roll out of the way of a foot coming down to slam on her chest. She used the motion to roll to her feet, then leaped out of the way of a flying kick. Faolan spun and punched, but Yang ducked underneath the strike and uppercut, slamming her fist into the bottom of Faolan's chin and knocking him back. She moved in on the offensive, punching rapidly and seeking out the holes in his defense. The Red Eagle's blocks were excellent, keeping most of her blows at bay, but a few managed to sneak through and hit his head and chest.
Suddenly, he leaned back then lurched forward, his forehead smashing into Yang's face and making her stumble back dizzily. Before she could recover, he was on her, punching her face back and forth from both directions four times, then grabbing her shoulders and yanking her in while raising his knee to smash against her face. The sudden assault was too much for her Aura at the area and messed up her concentration, allowing damage to leak through and crack her nose. She shouted and flailed while backing away, grasping her nose while keeping her eyes on the man and keeping her distance from him.
'Damn it!' she thought in pained frustration. 'He's way tougher than I expected. I've...gotta stop holding back.' With that thought, she slung the blood from her nose away while moving her thumbs to switch off the safeties of her gauntlets.
Faolan came at her again. She weaved around his strike and struck out with her own fist, but this time, when it hit his blocking arm, a shot rang out and he stumbled back. The damage wasn't too severe, but there was still a smoldering divet in Faolan's arm where the Dust had blown into him. By the way he clutched at it for a moment, Yang figured it also hurt a good bit.
'Sorry about this, big guy.'
With a battlecry, Yang went in, punching and jabbing at the Red Eagle while letting off shot after shot with each punch. When her ammo ran out, she began summoning balls of compact flame in front of her fists, letting them go off with every hit. Faolan tried to go back on the offensive, but he wasn't nearly as successful as before. Yang suffered a few more hits here and there, but it was nothing she couldn't handle after getting a taste of the wallopping Red Eagle dished out on her earlier. However, as her magicka ran low, she switched up her attacks again.
Rather than a fist, Ember Celica had rolled back, and a furred claw came raking in, scratching furrows into his arms. Her other claw came in at his torso, scraping his leather armor and part of his chest. As the first came back, Faolan reached out and grasped it, squeezing the limb tightly as if to snap it. Yang's left hand transformed back and summoned up another fireball as it came in and smashed at the offending arm, blasting it off from the other. Faolan made to back off, but then Yang pounced on one of his legs, her own having turned into the clawed feet of a werewolf. One stamped on his foot while the other hooked around it, holding him in place as Yang came in close and jabbed at his face, alternating to lean into hooks when he tried to fend her off and back again as he adjusted.
After a moment of her vicious assault, the Red Eagle leaned in and bent his trapped leg while rearing his right arm back for an underhanded blow. Yang tried to defend against the hit, but it came forward as a palm strike that managed to wrench her off and send her backwards into a roll that she barely managed to recover from before Faolan was there, kicking up at her face and sending her reeling even more.
Yang brought out her claws again, but Faolan had switched over to dodging them nimbly while trying to jab at her midsection. Neither managed to land a good hit on one another in the exchange, causing the blonde to feel building frustration that made her summon a wave of fire around her that she threw at the Red Eagle before trying to pounce on him. He leaped out of the way of both, and Yang tossed several balls of flame after him. Most missed, but the few that landed seemed to do little more than scorch the man.
All of a sudden, Yang's magicka ran out and her attempt at a spell puffed out. In her moment of surprise, Faolan jumped in and slammed a fist up into her diaphragm. As she was stunned, he grasped her by the mouth, lifted her up and smashed her back and head into the stone floor. He continued to hold her down while rearing back for a punch, but Yang's face morphed into a snout and she bit down on the hand holding her. Red Eagle cried out and punched the side of her face, forcing her to let go as it went back to being human. Not letting herself stay down, she pulled her legs in and kicked up with one, smacking Faolan's face up before using the other to give her some rolling momentum and get back on her feet.
Both combatants watched each other cautiously as they recovered. Yang's eyes scanned over the man and noted how his many wounds weren't bleeding all that much, figuring it to be the work of his Briarheart passively healing him. Aside from the multitude of wounds, he didn't look all that much worse than when they had started, whereas Yang was more than beginning to feel the drain.
'I gotta end this quickly,' Yang thought, slowly reaching back towards the ties for the Armor of the Old Gods. 'I won't have the enchantments if I take them off, and I'll basically be in my underwear for a second, but going full werewolf might be just enough to take him down.'
"So, this is your strength?" Faolan suddenly said, standing up straighter, causing Yang to pause in her action. "I will say, I was right about you. You have been more of a challenge than all the others put together so far."
"I try," Yang responded, not letting her guard down.
"It won't be enough," he continued, shaking his head. "Not nearly. But you've done well. For that, you have my respect. It is for that reason I'm going to show you this."
Yang took a step back as Faolan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. While part of her shouted that she should take advantage of his momentary blindness, another part knew that he was no less aware of his surroundings without using his sight for a few moments. His hands then came together, and Yang heard what sounded like singing to her ears.
"Sroich amach, Faolan, tá do chinniúint ag fanacht," he began, quietly at first, but his voice lilting up by the end of the line.
"Glan d'intinn, Faolan, ná géilleadh do na fait,
"Líon do chroí leis an rud a fhágann go bhfuil sé ag roar," he practically shouted, spreading his arms out as he did.
"Agus lig do spiorad, do ghrá agus do shaol ardú as cuimse," he continued, bringing his hands back together, one fist over the other.
"Ansin tiocfaidh sé chugat, do ghrá, do shaol, do chlaíomh!"
His hands shone for a moment, then a sliver of yellow-red light extended from the top with a sound like ripping paper, held within his hands like a blade. Some people even noticed that his sword stuck in the stone outside the arena had disappeared as the new blade of light was summoned. Flame-like vapors rose from it in a corona, as he held the weapon aloft, ready to fight once again.
"What kind of Bound Blade is that?" Weiss asked in worry.
"That's...not a Bound Blade," Capric realized in wide-eyed fear. "That's...a Shehai, a spirit sword. Red Eagle is a gods-damned Sword Singer!"
"A Sword-what?" Blake asked, but Capric didn't have time to answer before the fight picked back up again.
Red Eagle stepped forward and swung his Shehai. Yang's instincts screamed at her, and she ducked as it extended itself from its original size to cut where she had been. Yang felt the heat of it wash over her and knew that, even with her resistance, it would burn her should it land a hit. He swung back, sweeping at her legs, and she leaped over the spirit sword and ran towards him. The sword shortened again then extended towards her, forcing her to weave around it and keep her eyes on the fiery blade of light as she tried to close the distance. It shrunk back again and then Faolan slashed at the air itself. The air in front of him and Yang shimmered, then ripped open, creating a bright portal between the two points, catching Yang completely off-guard. Red Eagle stabbed forward. Yang leaned back, narrowly dodging the blade, but in a moment that stretched on, she saw it being lowered and pointed at her eye.
Yang rubbed the ring on her right index finger, and for a second, time truly moved slower for her, allowing her to pull herself out of the path of the blade as the world sped back up and it began extending itself. She leaped through the portal as the effects of the ring wore off, but had to jump to the side as Faolan cut his Shehai down, slicing through the stone like it was butter, leaving a furrow of cooling slag. She turned to try and find another angle of attack, but had to leap away as he swept at her legs again.
The blade suddenly came up, and Yang gasped as it passed through the meat of her right forearm, sizzling skin as it seemed to cut through her Aura with no resistance. She screamed as she came back down, clutching the burning wound even as just touching it with her hand nearly burned it as well. Faolan hadn't let up, however, and she ran from his Shehai again, rolling under it, but messing up the motion and falling onto her belly with a shout. He brought his spirit sword down on her, but with a sudden push of her barely-regenerated magicka, she cast a pair of spells that sent her out of the way with a flaming explosion and stream of fire.
She got back onto her feet and crouched down before launching herself forward. Red Eagle turned and saw her coming, swinging his sword at her. Rather than duck out of the way, Yang grasped her limp hand and powered on, even as the Shehai sliced through her neck.
Ruby screamed as she shot up to her feet, and Weiss went stock still. Blake, on the other hand, looked at the scene more closely as she noticed just what Yang had been reaching for on her hand.
Faolan lowered his blade as he saw the woman's head leave her body, but his eyes widened as rather than blood, flames began to spill out of the severed neck. Both head and body then exploded as Yang reappeared before him, sent forward by the explosion of the flame-clone she had summoned with the ring on her right hand, her left arm reared back as she activated her Semblance for the first time in the fight, alighting her hair and turning her eyes crimson.
Her fist came forward, with every muscle she could use to twist forward, the momentum of her launch, and all the amplified damage she had taken in the fight powering the strength behind it. It smashed into his neck, just below his jawline, and Yang felt him give more than she had in the entire fight.
Time slowed as she heard a cracking noise, followed by one of tearing and squelching flesh. Blood spurted out as Faolan's head left his body, Yang's punch going all the way through. The head was sent spinning through the air, landing several meters away, while the body managed to stand for a few more moments before falling with a thud.
Yang stood there, gasping as what just happened slowly sank in. She had been aiming for a knockout punch, putting everything she had into it. She missed his head like she had wanted, but for the microsecond where the blow landed, had hoped it would be at least as debilitating as a headblow.
Silence hung over the crowd as everyone took in the sight. Red Eagle was felled, and his challenger stood triumphant after a hard-fought battle. Many were waiting for the first one to speak, but then a red-faced man shot up.
"Treachery!" he accused while pointing towards Yang. "She used trickery to slay Faolan!"
Others were beginning to agree, but then Crow-Child, decked out in black feathers and a gryphon skull helm, stood up in her defense.
"Magic was always permitted!" he shouted, aiming his enchanted bone khopesh at the dissenter. "She won, by the terms we all agreed upon."
"I'm not letting some foreign slut become Arda," a Hagraven said as magic spells began appearing in her claws. Other Hagravens stood against her, but then more came to back her up, with Briarhearts and warriors quickly joining their matrons' sides.
Men in kilts with stout bears at their sides faced off against hide-wearing men with large dogs. The dark-cloaked Ghostblood vampires and their mortal kin looked ready to attack the bronze-clad Stonesingers. Minotaurs were met with Orcs, Goblins, and Ogres and their assorted part-Man clansmen from both sides. A couple of World-Cracker Giants started stomping towards the arena before they were stopped by Cloud-Drinkers stepping in their way. The lead World-Cracker snarled and summoned fire in his off-hand as the Cloud-Drinkers held up their clubs. Weapons were beginning to clash, and even the Huntresses and their company prepared to be dragged into the brewing conflict.
Yang watched it all going down, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she realized that she hadn't taken this one, very likely scenario into consideration; rejection of her winning and civil war between the Reachfolk. Her knees went wobbly and she nearly collapsed from the total exhaustion, but she managed to stand and look at the groups that were slipping through and coming at her, not knowing which were coming to attack or help. She stood up straight and readied herself, prepared to fight even with one arm.
"ENOUGH!"
The oncoming cascade of violence was cut short as everyone heard the voice that shouted the order and looked back to confirm if what they were hearing was true. Yang looked as well and saw that the head of Faolan was wobbling, grunts coming from its direction. The Vateshran ran over and picked it up, and then held it up so that everyone could see that the eyes and lips were still moving around.
"That is enough!" the severed head repeated. "You all gave your vows. Now that I've fallen, you would forsake them? Were your words so meaningless, even as you pledged your lives and souls? Do you sell them so cheaply in this era?!"
The dissenters almost to a man looked ashamed of themselves as they set their weapons and magic aside. A few were even beginning to sob, as if just realizing what they had almost done.
"F- Faolan," Yang got out, looking at the de-bodied man. "You're...alive?"
The Red Eagle closed his eyes, looking as though he were taking a deep breath to sigh with. "I have not been alive in a long time, Yang Xiao Long. Not truly. When I took the briar heart, I gave up my humanity. It was only my love for my people and my home that kept me as something near a man. Before I died, I had not felt peace until my dying moments, when I knew I had run out Hestia's Legions, and that I would rest at last. Now, I think I can finally find that rest that has eluded me.
"You have beaten me, and not through strength alone. I told you it would not be enough, and I was right. You saw that and became cunning, and even in the face of the weapon that reaped men by the dozens, you fought on, until you found a way to win."
"I didn't mean to decapitate you."
"What's done is done. You would not have been able to beat me into submission. The briar heart would have made sure of that. You have shown strength, skill, and courage. More than that, I can see within you that this was not to show your might, test your strength, or take power for yourself. Not with the way you made the challenge or the way you fought." He closed his eyes a moment before opening them again.
"I am unable to continue fighting," Faolan declared for all to hear as the Vateshran held him up higher. "Yang Xiao Long has won. Behold, your new Arda! May she lead the Reach into glory."
The crowd began to cheer, spurred on by the genuine joy many others sent into their own applause. Yang looked out over the crowd and at once felt both the weight of her new title along with the lightness in her heart. She had done it. She had averted a crisis that would have spilled the blood of countless people and tore apart Skyrim even further than it had already been. The war that had been all but promised wouldn't come to be, and she could truly head the real diplomatic efforts to bring all the sides to peace.
She refused to let herself think too much on how difficult that would actually be and instead decided to focus on the now. For instance, right now her arm hurt to high heaven and back. She clutched the wound and hissed, ready to go and get some potions to try and mitigate the pain and damage.
"Here you go, deary," the grandmotherly voice of the Hagraven Sisca said as she hovered a claw over the wound, yellow healing magic flowing into it. Yang sighed in relief, feeling better mere moments later, almost as though there was never a wound in the first place. She looked over at the witch and nodded her head in appreciation, earning a smile from her. She then looked over to her approaching friends and family just in time for Ruby to jump up and hug her.
"Ooh, ow! Careful, my everything is sore," she told the younger girl.
"Yang, I thought you'd died for a second there!" Ruby said, tears in the corners of her eyes as she looked up at her elder sister. "Then everyone started arguing, and I thought we were going to have to fight our way out and protect you and you were hurt and it was scary and I-"
"Shhh," Yang hushed her while pulling her in for her own hug. "It's okay now. I made it out okay." She then threw a smile in Blake's direction. "Thanks for the ring, babe."
"I wasn't sure it would work. A lot more fire than I expected," the Faunus admitted.
"It was actually the perfect amount." She let Ruby go and then embraced Blake.
"What now, great Faolan?" the Vateshran asked the severed head as he turned him around to face him. "Could we repair you? Never heard of healing a broken neck before."
"No. Right now, the heart is keeping me alive, but it will fade, eventually. I can think of a better use for it. Arda Yang," he called out, and the lore-keeper turned him toward her. Yang turned her attention to him at the same time.
"Yeah?"
"I have a request to make of you. Please, go to my body, and remove the briar heart from it."
Yang looked over at the headless torso then walked over to it. She crouched by it and moved the simple armor out of the way. It took a bit of effort, especially since her Aura was so low as to be nearly gone, but she managed to pry the old iron ribs apart and then reached in and plucked the pulsing fruit from the corpse. She walked back over the Faolan with it in hand and held it up.
"Good. Yes, it's still keeping me anchored, even removed from my body," he observed while looking at it. "Now, as a final request, I want you to eat it."
"I… Huh?" Yang got out, flabbergasted by the plea.
"This briar heart was the first, enchanted by witches of all walks, sorcerers, and shamans. It empowered me beyond mortal ken, allowed me insight into my own soul...and in accepting it, I gave up my own heart and humanity." He looked up at her and the Vateshran held him up higher to meet Yang's eyes. "It may do nothing. It may grant you all of my power. But it will destroy it. As a werewolf, you have the Hunt Father's power within you, and that may be enough to end it. Destroy the First Briar Heart, and let me rest."
Yang looked down at the enchanted fruit, feeling the magic within it, far greater than that of the couple she had held in her hands before. She then looked back up to Faolan and nodded.
"Okay," she accepted. "I hope you find your rest, Red Eagle...Faolan."
The blonde took a deep breath then held up the briar heart and bit into it. The magical fruit tasted like some combination of mango, apple, and blood. Her werewolf instincts were practically spinning with euphoria while her human side...didn't hate it. The last bite was chewed quickly and then swallowed, and Yang felt the pieces almost swirl in her stomach.
To their side, Faolan's body began to slowly flake away, flesh turning into dust and ash in the wind that had picked up. Faolan's head closed his eyes and slowly smiled, even as he began to disintegrate himself.
"Ah," he sighed. "Sublime."
The remainder of flesh on his head and body quickly dissolved after that. Then the bones, too, joined the rest as dust in the wind, with the skull in the Vateshran's hands the last to go. Everyone watched as the dust all swirled around the air in a spiral that tightened as it came down and reached Yang. She gasped as it suddenly rushed at her and instinctively held up her arms to block it all. The dust then hit her left fist and flowed over her arm, sinking into her skin and shifting colors into red and gold, until all the dust in the air was gone and an intricate series of marks ran all the way from Yang's hand to her jawline.
After it was over, she looked at her arm, removed her gauntlet, and tried to follow the lines that now covered it, seeing the shapes of wolves, cats, eagles, and dragons in the crisscrossing and swirling of lines. There even seemed to be a series of runes, though she couldn't read them.
"Hail Yang Xiao Long!" the Vateshran called out. "Arda of the Reach tribes! Fiery Drake! Gold Wolf!"
The crowd began cheering once again. Yang stood there and closed her eyes, letting it all wash over her while sending a silent prayer to the gods to help an old soul find his well-deserved rest.
The next day, most of the clan representatives were leaving or preparing to do so soon. Yang found most of her morning spent getting to know many of the tribe and clan leaders and where their particular groups tended to stay or move about. Some stayed put, relatively. Others migrated north and south with the seasons. Some followed their favored food sources. They were more varied than Yang expected, some being matriarchal, patriarchal, ruled by the strongest or the wisest, and a couple even having what could be called egalitarian democracies.
Some paid their respects or apologized for their behavior. One group of Hagravens (which made Yang bristle despite growing a good bit more used to them) swore themselves to her service, even using some blood ritual on the spot that burned up the drops that hit the ground. Apparently, it was a very serious vow, as Madanach explained it was an oath bound through Malacath, reminding her of the one Ruby had gotten Capric to make.
Speaking of, the Faunus-Mer hybrid found himself at the mercy of Ruby throwing him a birthday party. Weiss had been dragged in as well thanks to their team leader using the heiress' love of organization against her, and several unsuspecting Reachfolk suddenly found themselves as guests to a celebration that they barely had a concept for. Capric also hadn't been exaggerating about Harpies and baking. If anything, he undersold it.
"That cake is nearly as big as me," a Minotaur mumbled, looking at the extra-large confection alternately layered with chocolate and white in tiers as he awaited his turn for a piece.
"And it's delicious!" Ruby remarked through a mouthful.
"It's almost as good as my old cake butler's recipe," Weiss noted, being far more dainty about eating her own share.
"I don't quite get it, though," Blake said. "How is this a Harpy thing?"
"After being inducted further into civilization and having food sources far more secured, Harpies found they had quite a sweet tooth," Capric answered her. "A lot of their diet includes fruit for a good portion of the year, which gives them the energy they need for extended flight. Once they discovered sugar cane, they started going after it ravenously. Caused quite a bit of friction with the Khajiit, but we've managed to...stabilize their relationship."
"Not liking the pause there," Blake grumbled.
"He just means that Harpies work for what they eat," Maarah interjected as she continued to pass out slices. "We are still new to the whole 'accepted' thing. Until recently, most provinces in Tamriel viewed us as vermin."
"Not alone there," the Minotaur said right as Syndergoth passed him a platter with reasonably portioned slices for a creature of his size. The bullman smiled and walked over to take a seat and enjoy it with other members of his clan, which, going by the armor, was the Black-Moons.
Blake grimaced again, then immediately internally berated herself for doing so. Vertina seemed to notice, but said nothing, even as her aunt glared lightly at the Faunus for a moment.
"Hm, I think I've read that until recently, that wasn't so much metaphor as it was policy," Weiss mentioned, rubbing her chin in thought. "Pigmole helped to change that, though, didn't they?"
"Yes, but it wasn't like they walked up to the Elder Council and asked nicely," Capric explained. "Hell, for several years into the Fourth Era, there were members arguing that they should destroy Pigmole and kill all the Goblins, Ogres, and Minotaurs there before 'the threat grew too much to contain'."
"Why'd you destroy it then?" Aela asked him pointedly, catching the attention of the Remnant-born women at the table.
"What?" Ruby muttered in quiet surprise.
"Because I was ordered to," the half-elf answered simply, though with a tired sigh after that let them know it wasn't his first time answering the question. "We were told to destroy it to 'make an example' of them. I figured the example was racist in its essence, but I wasn't in a position at the time to argue against foolish orders."
"You...destroyed an institution of learning, unity, and racial equality?" Blake archly questioned Capric, her eyes narrowing and her ears pinning back. The fact that said institution was founded by one of her school friends went unsaid, but the rest of team RWBY understood it all the same.
The half-Faunus looked away from her, shame evident on his face. Ruby suddenly found it much harder to enjoy the cake set her fork down.
"Why would you have done such a thing?" Weiss asked, though her question was voiced far less aggressively than Blake's. Her displeasure was easily noticeable, however.
"It was not as if we wanted to do it," Maarah said, looking downcast and pushing some cake crumbs around her plate. "I had nothing but respect for those Goblins. They were learned, fought well, and had helped many of our csh'atan - our kin - in the years past." Anger showed itself as she scrunched up her nose while closing her eyes. "Blasted yellow faces couldn't stand the thought of others treating us better."
"…Those are just more reasons for you not to go along with it," Blake's voice started to rise with her incredulity, "Why would you choose to follow the orders of people who mistreat you, to destroy the people who were helping you? Why do you still work for them? That doesn't make any-!"
"Let's try not to linger on old regrets and memories of wars long past," Syndergoth spoke up, putting a supportive hand on Capric's shoulder even as the half-elf averted his gaze, his face pinched with guilt. "Especially not on a happy occasion."
"Yeah, it's not every year you turn one hundred and twenty-three, after all," Vertina added in with a brittle smile, overjoyed at a subject change.
Aela snorted at the deflection but didn't press any further, not having expected a satisfying answer in the first place. Blake continued to stare at Maarah with disbelief, until Yang snapped her out of it with a soft touch of her arm. The Faunus' ears straightened and she turned to her partner, who met her with an understanding look and mouthed 'Later?', causing Blake to deflate and sit down with a huff. Yang lingered a bit before pacing away from the group, her fingers gently brushing down her girlfriend's shoulder as she passed.
Weiss studied the elves and harpies across from them, trying to keep in mind that right now Capric was trying to direct the Thalmor in a more positive direction from the inside, and he wouldn't have had any of his current influence on how they did things back then. It was a cold comfort. Meanwhile Ruby's eyes flicked back and forth between everyone, before clearing her throat uncomfortably. Disheartening timing aside, this reveal was a grim reminder of what it meant for these people to be agents of the Thalmor, no matter how charismatic and helpful they were, or how good their professed intentions. It was further proof that the organization as a whole should be kept at arm's length.
"Oh, so that's how old you are?" Ruby asked him, trying to go along with Vertina's cue and pull everyone away from the gloomy atmosphere before they all just shut down, though she couldn't bring herself to pick the remains of her cake back up. "The big one-two-three, huh?"
"Yes, it is true," he admitted. "I am, indeed, an old man."
"I am twice your age," the other Bosmer reminded him.
"Don't sell yourself short, old goat. You're at least three decades more than twice my age," Capric joked. The butler's smirk told everyone it was nothing more than a good-natured ribbing, but the numbers got Weiss thinking.
"Gods, sometimes I forget how old elves can be. And you still might not be the oldest - No, I know you're not."
"The years in torpor in that tomb don't count," Serana said through a mouthful of cake, side-eyeing Weiss.
"What about the ones outside of it?"
"I don't know… Maybe two hundred, give or take some decades."
Elsewhere, Yang had gone for a short walk, partly to escape the awkwardness from the revelation of their "associates'" pasts and avoid losing her temper with them, and partly from the insecure feeling she always got after eating a lot of sweets. Cake always made her feel like she was close to letting herself go thanks to a dumb cartoon from her childhood, so she had to do a little physical activity to soothe her mind. She didn't share Ruby's particular metabolism, or Nora's now that she'd been reminded of her.
She overheard some of her teammates' conversation, and it got her to thinking as well. It was mostly about the Reachfolk and how things would need to progress in the coming years.
Her title was real now, even if it wasn't recognized by either Skyrim or the Empire at large. The Reachfolk named her their king, and so she was to them. Reachcliff Run was likely to get a lot of immigrants in the coming months thanks to her being the holder of that land, and that meant there was going to be a lot of administering she thought she'd get to avoid a while longer.
As she tried to figure out how to balance her adventuring life with the new sort of 'domestic' life she had been saddled with, she came across a familiar old man looking towards the horizon.
"Not up for some cake, Maddie?" the current king asked the former. The old Reachman shook his head after briefly turning towards her.
"Not a fan of sweets. Doubt it'll be kind to my teeth after all these years."
"Yeah, toothaches can be the worst," Yang admitted as she stood alongside him. The view from their position gave them a wide view of the valleys and cliffs that stretched out into the distance, with the Karth twisting through much of it. Fog rose up on mountains to try and join the clouds above, only to slow to a stop as they reach the snowy summits.
"I reckon you'll be off to your adventures soon?" the older man asked.
"Yeah, but I'll be back," she told him with a nod. "It's not that I don't take the promise I made seriously-"
"Don't go explaining it to me," he cut her off. "I've already heard most of it from that sister of yours. She might be quiet when you first meet her, but once she gets comfortable..." He chuckled and shook his head. "Nobody wants the world to be under a bunch of vampire thumbs. Especially not Nord vampires."
"Well, they're not all Nords," Yang offered awkwardly.
"Maybe not, but the foundation is, and that's the important thing," he explained to her while holding up a finger and turning to her. "Telling it like that to the Reach is what will seal it. Not even the most dark-loving Ghostbloods will want to live in a world controlled by a clan of Nord vampires. So, it only makes sense that you're off on a quest to stop them." He closed his eyes and shrugged. "The dragons are a bit concerning as well, but not as big of an issue."
"Right," Yang drawled while rolling her eyes. "Flying, destructive, demi-god reptiles led by something called The World Eater aren't a big deal. Some vampires that are also Nords trying to rule the world? Now that's unacceptable."
Madanach shook his head while keeping his smile. "It's an old hate that will cool slowly. But, if you're right about things - and I hope you are - maybe it'll cool a little faster."
"We can only try our best," she admitted. "Still, I have a feeling stuff's going to happen while I'm gone. Kinda need to get someone to watch over things while I'm occupied." She turned to him with a smirk. "Say, I hear you recently lost your old job after getting out of prison."
The Reachman guffawed. "You're hilarious. Yes, just have the recently imprisoned King in Rags run your lands! The Nords in Markarth will love that."
"What they don't know won't hurt them," she told him. "We'll just...nab you a pseudonym and get some trusty middlemen as go-betweens. You ran a pretty good system before with way less freedom, and you were a good king if the Reachfolk's judgement can be trusted at all, which I believe they can."
"Pseudonym, huh? A fake name." He laughed again while shaking his head, his fingers coming up to stroke his chin after a moment. "I was named Madanach. It means "Lucky One" or "Lucky Boy" in the old language of the Reach. But it sounds almost exactly like Madannach." His smile dropped for a moment. "That one little letter, a slightly different pronunciation, and it becomes "Unlucky". Sometimes, I had to wonder, was that my actual name?
"Maybe I need a new name for a new life anyways? Then...Parga? Bail." The man hummed in thought. "Pargainbail, then. Heh, sound like some mason's son."
"What's it mean?" Yang asked him, curiosity getting the better of her.
"Broken Stone," he told her with no hesitation. "In many ways, it's perfect. I had to break stones for years or command for them to be broken. And for a long time, I had to wonder if I wasn't broken as well, but now I know." He smiled at her again. "Right then. Relay whatever orders you have for me to 'Pargainbail'. I should have things set up soon enough. Just need to find a nice little place to settle in your new land. Preferably, away from those Orcs."
"Try not to make problems with them. Those are still my citizens you know."
"Wouldn't dream of it. Just don't want any nosey neighbors if we can avoid it."
Yang nodded. "Well, all right then. I guess the first thing to do would be to get ready for the incoming people. So, do you know how to set up a grid?"
"A grid?"
"Okay, this might take a minute to explain… Ah, I got CivSimmy Mobile, so maybe I could show you there."
A few days passed, in which Yang further sent orders either through clan leaders or her new, unofficial steward, making sure that the Reachfolk knew that the rules were changing soon and that she had a plan to finally get them equitable treatment both on paper and in practice. There wasn't much specific in the statement, but in general, it promised that their new king was going to fight for the cause of the Reachfolk's recognition (whether that was as Imperial citizens or their own kingdom was up in the air) and the right to their ancestral homelands. She needed both Weiss and Blake's help with wording and phrasing it, but eventually the 'Reach Agenda' was written down and being distributed.
"All the clans will hear from you soon," 'Pargainbail' told her after passing on the final draft to a scribe and coming to see them all off. "I'm sure most of the reception will be positive, but we're going to have detractors, I can almost guarantee it."
"We'll deal with that when we come to it." Hopefully dealing with them wouldn't turn violent, but Yang felt like a couple more skulls would need knocking about before it was all finalized and everyone was on the same page as her. "But first, gotta make sure there will be a Reach to help in the future."
"Quite." He looked to where their mounts were pointed. "If it interests you, the Dirt Patch should be somewhere north at this time. Dirt birds might even be nesting soon."
"Wait, what?" Yang asked in confusion.
"Dirt Patch," he repeated. "A strange, giant patch of dirt that moves around randomly. No snow can fall on it, no matter where it goes."
"...Yeah sure, why not?" the blonde muttered incredulously.
"All we need now are flying whales," Blake groaned while rolling her eyes.
"Isn't it about time for their migration as well?" he asked the Nord of their retinue.
"Maybe in a week and for the next month after that," she answered.
"Wait, so that was a real story the drunk guy was telling us?" Ruby asked her housecarl.
"I would hope not," Lydia answered. "The idea of a bird being able to badger a Daedric Prince into doing anything is frightening."
Madanach's brow twisted up while Capric spun around on his saddle to look back at the Dragonborn and her servant.
"What?" both asked.
As the group headed north, Madanach watched them from the top of the Sundered Towers. He had been sitting alone for a few hours, feeling the cold wind blowing against his face and relishing it, even as the chill began to sting at him. When he heard the old wooden ladder creak behind him, he turned to see a woman climbing up to join him.
"Ritta, was it?" he asked her. "Augur Ritta, from what I hear."
"I am," she answered before walking over to the edge and leaning against it, resting her palms on the stone. "Our new king already leaves to go and save the greater world."
"She'll be back," Madanach said with a nod. "Nothing short of death will stop her at this point."
"There were a few possibilities, but they will not be." The witch turned back to him, and he noticed the way grey stormclouds seemed to fill her eyes.
"Our king is risen, from the ashes of dragonfire, and she has not spread her wings to take flight and burn, but to offer and give shelter. She sees all as her pack, but one she cares for will someday fall, and there she will have to choose to follow in bloody footsteps or break the chains that drag them along the path.
"Her love watches the shadows cautiously, baring a blade of blood against them, but she will someday learn to lower it before it bleeds her as well.
"Her companion walks a path of suffering and loss, torture for her very soul will make manifest, but the road shall someday guide her to a choice, and the hope for salvation.
"Her sister...walks a path straight and obscured. She makes to fight the penultimate dragon, but her steps are wild. She will reach her goal, but who she will be - what she will be can be so very different."
The Augur blinked a few times and looked over to the former-king-made-steward, who rubbed his chin in thought.
"Vague, like all good prophecies are. Still, at least there's a chance for good outcomes for them."
"We always have a choice, in the end," Ritta said, pushing herself to stand up straight. "Destiny defines us, but it is defined by us in turn. We all face fate, even if we don't see it."
"And did you know Arda Yang's fate? Her destiny?"
The Augur smirked. "In truth, I know nothing. I only ever perceive."
Madanach grumbled at the non-answer and looked back to his king and her retinue.
"We all face fate," he repeated before looking at his blue-tinged hands. He always saw fate as an excuse, but perhaps it was just the bitterness held in his heart that made him deny fate as a factor. After all, any blame laid on fate was blame not going to the Nords.
He would never say he was proud of what he did to survive, but with how it all turned out, he was happy to have made it through. The Reach had a champion at its helm, and the crimes perpetrated against him and his kinsmen were finally being recognized and, in a few scattered cases, reconciled.
He could have raged with all his might, practically barred Yang and her fellows from challenging Faolan, and helped the ancient king reconquer all of the Reach in a storm of blades on a sea of blood.
But he chose to believe in a young woman's determination that a better way could be found. Now, he could only hope she was right.
Madanach felt, for the second time in his life, that his fate was sealed. This time, however, the feeling did not weigh on him, crushing him like all the world was being pressed down on him. It was liberating, in a beautifully ironic way.
"Whatever happens now, does it come from fate, or our choices?"
The Augur cocked her head at him.
"Who can say?"
20th of Evening Star