Cearbhail:

Okay... I've been missing only because I've been busy making a character generator... and then used it for the War Mages. I'm still filling in information, but I should be ready to get back to writing Vatu's next chapter soon. This weekend definitely. Anyway, here you go. One about no War Mages at all.

Enjoy. =^^=

(Vara)

Last night was amazing. After I got settled in, I joined Phillip for dinner. There was a dining feast set up inside the remains of the church, which was the largest building in Chorrol, other than the crypt underneath it. The entire town had showed up for the feast, and we feasted on my return. I was sad to hear that the previous Fighter's Guild Master had passed away. It felt like a sign of what was to come, the destruction of the best of us. I knew Vilena Donton. She was a friend of my mom, and they would spend most of their morning training together. They also had a bit of a rivalry with each other. Vilena would use her children, Vitellus and Viranus, as sparring partners for me. Mom and Vilena wanted to see which training style was better: Blade or Figther's Guild. And knowing that all three of them were dead… the Donton line extinguished… I couldn't stop thinking that… this is it. This is really the end. No matter what… once this invasion is repelled… if it ever is… there is no going back. Only going forward. And whoever we lose… that's it. They're gone.

Maybe that's why we're really partying. We don't know what tomorrow will bring… and who will be there to celebrate it with us. We've already lost so much, and undoubtedly, we'll lose more. Knowing that, I partied hard. A hung out with everyone I possibly could. Even my old band I used to play with. Oh, by the way, I play the lute. I'll talk more about that later.

After the party, I made my way to the bathhouse. I had my first hot bath in a long time, all while talking to my girlfriend. I'm glad the War Mages, while they were still in town, managed to fix this part of the town. The roads and walls were repaired, and I'm guessing they all wanted to take a bath, because, unlike the houses, mine included, still have holes blasted through the ceilings and walls. The bathhouse was even warmer than it was before. The enchantment runes carved into the stonework must have been enchanted for relaxation. There was this small smell of lavender, giving me the single greatest bath of all time. Well, maybe bathing in a river for 6 months is just making me forget how great baths feel. And talking to my girlfriend made the whole experience grander.

The two of us caught up on each other's lives. Pra'ja told me all about her adventures with Vatu, even joining the Mages Guild, where Argonians like her could experiment with learning their Shadow, and where Mage and Atronach Signs could figure out how and why their birthsigns were the only form of Argonian able to manipulate actual magicka… even if it took the form of Shadow. Pra'ja wasn't high enough in rank to view the reports made on Argonians, their birthsigns, or their Shadow. From what she knows, Black Marsh is hush on the subject too. I promised her I would use my Blades' training and position to find out whatever I could. And seeing how Vatu's now currently in connection with the Arch Mage of the Mages Guild… it only makes sense that I can get her to disclose that information… if it even exists anymore. Most of the guilds were burnt to the ground, and I'm guessing most of the recorded information is gone. That's what sucks about our world. Information is easily lost with one building burning. And since Vatu is dating the princess of Black Marsh, I'm sure he can get her to do the same on her end with whatever information they have on Shadow.

I told Pra'ja about my time with the Renrijra Krin, learning about the organization, and how I started as a spy trying to bring the organization down. But with the Imperial Legion almost sacrificing the entire town of Leyawiin to kill a single cell leader of the Renrijra Krin, how I joined the Renrijra Krin entirely. I wouldn't kill needlessly, and protect the children in the cell. Most importantly, I used the spying on the Renrijra Krin as an emotional cover to help the Khajiits screw over the Argonians trying to live in what used to be Elsweryr territory. She understood my reasoning though. After all, she knew I couldn't forgive Black Marsh for what I believed happened to her. Now that I know better, I still… I still have some ingrained hatred of Black Marsh. They went to war with my kind, and are still hunting them covertly. If I was ever found out by a spy form Black Marsh, I knew I could expect a silencer, an assassin, to find me, and try their best to eliminate me. But I think I can forgive some of that. Vatu's dating the Princess of Black Marsh, who knows his secret. And she still loves him. The future is us… and the future is now. If the Princess can move on… so can I.

After my lovely bath, I toweled off and finally traveled to my old house. I saw that it was mostly intact. The living room has hole blasted through it, and small section of the roof was blasted down in the living room, but my bedroom was still standing. All my old stuff was still there, just how I left it. And it was one of the more surreal moments of the day. Even more so than finding out that my old partner was alive, and now a different person from when I last saw them.

Just imagine how it was for me when I got home after my six months of working undercover in the Renrijra Krin. My bed was still dressed with my light tan plaid comforter. My dresser was still filled with my traditional rabi dresses, my favorite goth Lolita dresses, as well as my Blades training hakama. And sitting on top of my dresser was a box filled with my favorite precious gems. What can I say, I like shiny stuff? And sitting next to my box of precious gems was a small painting of me and Pra'ja. Well, Pra'ja when she had green scales and spikes all across her head and back. We had the painting done of us when we were at the Old Life Festival in the Imperial City. Our first holiday date together. She and I had our hands linked together, our faces squished against each other, and we were smiling as widely as we could, fire lanterns hanging behind us, casting the lake in a lovely reflective light. It was my favorite painting of us… but… Pra'ja might not like it anymore. It showed Pra'ja when she had different scales, which I learned last night… it caused some form of anxiety attack on her to picture. This might be a lovely memory for me… but… Pra'ja might have an anxiety attack if she sees this. I guess she and I will have to get a new painting made for us.

The very thought put a smile on my face, and a purr in my throat. My tail may have wagged too. A nice date for us to go on… and have a professional painter painting a new portrait for us. And… I can have one with my brother and sister. And maybe a group painting. I could fill up my house with paintings of all of us. Every single one of us. Record our memories. And someday, we'll become parents, usher in the new generation. I could pass down the teachings of the Blade to my child. Wait… could Argonians and Khajiits even breed together?

My tail stopped snapping. That… I never considered that. Vatu and Nexa… could they even have children? Pra'ja and I were already planning to adopt even when we were younger. Carrying a child in your stomach while existing in this world, and being an agent for Order, is dangerous. Mom didn't plan for Vatu and me. We were accidents. And she regretted having us after the Oblivion Crisis. She would often tell me… that if the two of us had happened even a few years later… she would have been incapable of defending herself. And if we had been babies… she would have been incapable of doing what she needed to do to protect us. And so… I decided that I wasn't going to put myself in that position. I was going to adopt my child. And for me that's all I want. I don't care if my children are biologically related to me or not. Being a Blade is a creed, not a race. After all… This is the Way of the Blade.

As of right now, I had a full family now. A Grandma, a brother, sister, mother. Don't really care about the father. Vatu can tell me about him later. I just wish I could enjoy the fact that I had a complete family now. But I couldn't. I could easily lose my family before this war was over. Vatu… Nisha… Pra'ja… all of them… expendable mage fodder. Trained in large masses to be thrown at impossible enemies… all in the hopes that they can do what experienced mages could not: defeat some impossible foe that seems impervious to our magic. From the report I received from Grandma, one that I read while I eating food with Phillip… Vatu managed to do the impossible. He managed to defeat a whole horde of Aedra. That was disconcerting to learn. That would mean that my brother will be thrown into the thickest of battles. He barely survived his first encounter. I doubt he'd be so lucky twice. He better not drag my new sister into this nonsense.

Sighing, I turned my attention away from my painting with Pra'ja. I had to do something to cheer myself up. Sitting in the corner of my room, collecting a lot of dust, was my lute. I hadn't played this lute in almost a year, even though I played with the Renrijra Krin several times. Scurch could play the bass, and Hanjiir-dar was pretty good with a flute. When I found out that Yinoi wanted to learn how to play the lute, I offered myself as her teacher. And that's how we started doing our weekly jam sessions. It's also how I decided that I wouldn't mind adopting her as my sister. She very well might come live with me in Chorrol. I invited her. And she promised she'd come visit once this invasion was over. So… I have two sisters now.

I picked up my lute, plucked a cord, and the cord snapped immediately. Well… won't be playing that tonight. And with how the economy is… I seriously doubt I can just go the local music store and buy a new lute string in the Imperial City… in the middle of the night, during this horrible invasion. Oh well. I couldn't wait to teach Nisha how to play the lute. I think Yinoi and Nisha will be great friends. Just a little thing to look forward to.

My bed was a little short for me even when I left, and I'm guessing I've only grown in the past 6 months. Last time I slept in my bed, my feet were poking over the edge of my sheets. Plopping my butt on the bed and stretching myself out, I found my feet dangling over the edge. Yup… I'm taller. But the bed was soft. The past six months have been sleeping in a tent with sand as my cushion. I found myself falling asleep on the spot, sleeping through the night without a second thought. No wonders of if I should continue partying, which there was plenty right before I went to my house. Phillip was not kidding when he said we were going to party.

And so, this morning, waking up, I got out of bed, walked around the town, did my morning drills with Phillip, and packed my travel pack with fresh food, and my Blades armor. Once I informed Phillip of my orders, he informed me that he would be joining me, at least until we reached Bruma. He had orders to prepare the town for the incoming invasion, if there was to be one. Our town of Chorrol was as prepared as it was going to be, and with the Fighter's Guild Master, some runt of man by the name Roland Lylvieve, the town was prepared for any small time bandit attack. The protective runes on the outer barrier of the town also saw to small attacks like those.

Since both Phillip and I were going to travel in the same direction, we decided it would be easier for us to travel together. It gave us both time to catch up. We reflected on our old lives, and how we had changed since we last saw each other. He informed me of how rusty my sword fighting was, on what my weaknesses were when we were sparring, and how I could improve. And I called him a smelly man and how he would improve his scent to help with his chosen mate. We both took playful jabs at each other for a few miles.

Other than those small things that happened in the town, my equipment had a massive upgrade. I now had a ring on my finger that had some kind of Soul Invisibility enchantment attached to me. It's supposed to keep me invisible to the flying angels in our sky. I haven't seen any Aedra yet, but if the report is accurate, we'll come across them up near Bruma. I'm actually scared. I read the conflict report between Vatu's training unit and a flying horde. Vatu almost died…

I'm an Akhalyte, that's true. I'm good at using it. And from what I can tell, I'll only get one shot at using it. Grandma managed to kill a small horde, and she told me how. And I have my katana enchanted with the correct Aedric slaying rune. Grandma liked being ready for things like Daedra, and ever since the Invasion 5 years ago, she collected tomes and tomes on ancient enemies. She stumbled onto an invasion between Khajiits and the Aedra, in one of her ancestor dreams, and learned of a slaying rune from that era. Taught to the Khajiit slayers by some Altmer with a dark robe. And so… I guess Grandma and me are the only ones that have Aedra Slayer Katanas. That's the other reason I'm going to Sky Haven Temple. I'm passing out the runes to the other Blades. Phillip already has an enchanted katana. Soon enough, the Blades will be Angel Slayers. I'm kind of excited to see if it can work. I'm also terrified if it doesn't. Like I said… I only get one shot to get this right.

"I'm back." My ears popped up as I heard Phillip behind me.

"Good. I'm anxious to continue our journey." Phillip had walked away to do his business. We'd been on the road for a couple hours already, and we were probably halfway to Bruma. You could see the mountains from where we stood. We just couldn't see the town yet.

"Are you sure you don't need a break too?" Phillip arched an eyebrow to me.

I shook my head. "Not yet. I was in the Renrijra Krin for a few months… and trust me… there were days where I was too busy to find a moment to relieve my bladder. Running from the Empire keeps you busy. I learned to pee a tiny bit ever ten minutes or so as I walk… and I'm not proud to announce that out loud… and now realize how embarrassing what I just said was." My facial fur was puffing up. Shit… I said something I shouldn't have.

Phillip only nodded. "I understand. Doesn't sound hygienic though."

I sighed as my facial fur puffed up more. "It can get… rashy…"

"Adventurers…" A loud voice boomed across the trees we were walking through. "You both have walked into our camp."

"Camp?" I echoed. My senses were kicking in, and I could already smell the rotting bodies. Hundreds of rotting bodies. The smell was surrounding us. How did I miss that? Dark magick was prickling at my back, making my fur stand on end. How the Oblivion did I miss that? Stupid plot conveniences.

I reached for my sword handle, glancing at Phillip. "Necromancers."

Phillip nodded, reaching for his sword. "What? And you missed that? Couldn't you sniff them out?"

"You just used the bathroom! How did you not see them?!"

And that's when hundreds and hundreds of zombies slowly clambered out of the brush, beginning to surround us. Bodies were literally pulling themselves up from the dirt, and with each body, the smell intensified. Ah… they were hiding in plain sight… just under our noses. Literally my nose. No wonder I couldn't sniff them out. This was one carefully laid out trap. Whoever did this must be a tactical genius: A ferocious predator with years of carefully crafted evilness tucked under his robe, preparing for this very scenario.

Zombies of all races, genders, and ages were beginning to surround us, carefully staying a generous rushing attack distance away from us. Genius. If they came any closer, Phillip and I would have the advantage of a first surprise attack. And if they horde rushed us… they could mitigate our advantage. Shit… I don't see any gaps for us to squeeze through without being torn to shreds. You see… it's shit like this that excites me for being an Akhalyte. I can survive this… but even if I do… there is a solid chance I won't survive the aftermath. We become impervious to pain and death… until the effect is over. I don't miraculously heal. I'm not some fucking mage. But I am a badass… with a sword. And claws. If I'm careful and fast… I won't have to worry about dying to some Necromancer. But… he'd have to be an idiot for that to work. And this opponent laid out this careful trap. I was not dealing with an amateur. I was dealing with death incarnate.

"So… think you can handle the 200 on the left?" I glanced over my shoulder to Phillip.

"Define 'left'."

"Wherever you want it to be. I'll take the right side."

"I think I can take 300. You?"

I chuckled as I felt my eyes beginning to shift red. "I can take everyone. I can take us out for lunch, dinner, and a theatrical play."

A puff of smoke near a tree signaled a new person coming for us, and I turned to face him. Phillip continued to watch my back as I turned to address our new threat. Maybe this was our real threat? The mastermind? The creative tactical genius?

A short fat man, his gut twice my size, walked out of the smoke, waving his hands around the zombies around us. "You are surrounded. A thousand zombies, and 50 necromancers have you dead to rites. And you will be dead, and bound to us by rites."

"I'm busy watching your six…" Phillip called over my shoulder. "What are we dealing with?"

I shrugged. The man in front of us was round, and… he had a weak stance, a twitch in his eyes. His grip on his staff was loose, his arms… slacked. He wasn't a warrior… but he did smell Nord. Not even a real threat. "A two… maybe three."

Phillip scoffed. "That's all?"

"Once my zombies get you, I will use my necromantic rites to thrall the two of you, making you my slaves. You will remain conscious will I pluck out your intestines, stuff you with salt, and preserve your body with oils. The Khajiit I will have to shave. And I plan on going through your pussy, pussy."

"Maybe a one and a half."

"So… what scored him that low?" Phillip was trying to contain his laugh. He already understood what I was going for, and he was right here with me. Time to have some fin.

I shrugged. "He had a nice entrance. Not often someone uses literal smoke to come into the view of your enemy. He's not imposing though. He seems to talk a big game, but I've fought enough necs in my time to know that he's pretty much on empty magickally. He isn't in any kind of stance. He's just… putting all his weight on the balls of his feet, leaning forward in an unnatural way, which isn't even strategic… it just looks weird. He has this stupid look in his eyes, almost like he's drunk. His haircut is lopsided, and not in a fashionable way. It's like he tried to shave his own head in a running river's reflection. He smells of piss and mead. His face is ugly, his hands too small, he looks like he overly tanned his face, or at least painted it some kind of burnt orange. His robes look stupid, and he's wearing a red tie too long to be functional. He talks with his hands, purses his lips in a manner that makes me think of a baby sucking on a bottle.. Literally, I see him pissing his robes right now."

Phillip scoffed. "Jeez… sounds like a poser."

"Poser or not… he has an army… and that can't be taken lightly. I'm sure even if we take this bastard down, his thralls will charge us. Brainless, yes, but overwhelming if we don't take this carefully."

"We are the Proud Necromancers." Some Necromancer hiding behind a wall of thralls exclaimed.

The leader smirked at me, clearly adoring the army he had amassed. "Me and my Proud Boys are going to take you both, rip out your guts, perhaps eat a few of them, I don't know… I'm still figuring this out, and then, I don't know. I think we'll go to the Imperial City, kill what remains of the Mages Guild, take over as the new leader, right leader of course, and then… become the new emperor."

So… not a tactical genius then? He was literally winging this by the seat of his pants? Fuck this then. I can take advantage of this. First thing's first. Distract the enemy.

"So, how did you sleep last night? I never asked." I turned back to Phillip.

Phillip chuckled, still playing along. We've done this bit before with other more competent enemies. It should still work here. "I dreamt of lying on my couch with Greg, my arm wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him close to me. We were… just enjoying the moment. Something we haven't been able to do since this invasion happened. And definitely not since Chorrol was hit."

"Um… excuse me… I'm talking here. I'm threatening your lives." The dead nec was yelling to me.

"Oh my gods… look at his feet. Is he wearing slippers?" I smirked as I covered my mouth, turning my face away from him.

Phillip glanced over his shoulder, laughing at the sight. "Are those bunny-eared slippers?"

The necromancer bent down to cover his slippers. "Um… maybe you haven't been lead into a deadly trap before, but this is not the correct response. You should be cowering in fear of my might. Of my Proud Thralls."

"Yeah… that's another thing." Phillip said over my shoulder. "Stick to a name! I get you're new at this, but… there's nothing scary about a name like… the Proud Thralls. It's just lame."

"Also…" I smirked as I unsheathed my katana. "You don't have a snowball's chance of beating me." I glanced back at Phillip. "Hey… want to see something cool?"

Phillip chuckled. "Your eyes are already red. I know where this is going."

I turned to face the necromancer. "Yes… yes you do."

I turned to face the necromancer. "So… you're a bad guy, right? Ever read those tales? Those old stories we would tell in campfires, wrapped in our sleeping bags? The stories that mattered? The ones where the world would fall to darkness, where a hero would rise from a local nobody, a team would form, and they'd adventure to find a way to correct the fallen darkness? Where they would rise above their stations in life, take on near impossible odds…"

I started walking to the necromancer. My katana's enchantment started to glow. I ripped off my pancho covering my Blades' armor. My golden/silver armor shimmered in the late morning light.

The necromancer seemed to gather who I was, and what I was capable of. "Get her!" He screamed, pointing his small inept finger at me. Thralls of all sizes began charging for me and Phillip.

I laughed as I fueled my raz'akha. "Oya…" I muttered to myself as I lowered my stance. I felt invincible. As the first zombo came to me, I ripped my katana right through her, spinning around, cleaving another rusher in as he tried to grip me from behind. I became a spinning whirlwind as I used my raz'akha to enhance my speed. It's the only spell I actually know. Heightened speed. I cleaved through the thralls rushing me, Fireballs and Ice Shards flying left and right as the other spell-casters in this group rushed us. I dodged the flying projectiles, cleaved heads off zombies, making my way over to the leader of the Proud Thralls.

The leader was busy pushing thralls in front of him as he tried to escape my advancement. "The old tales of how a dark enemy would stand his ground, thinking they had the high ground… while a small team of peasants rose to challenge their rule?" I spun around, cleaving my way through six zombies surrounding me. I felt a hand grip my ankle, and I looked down… seeing a small boy zombie pulling himself closer to biting me. The poor boy… he looked like he was six or something. And he was dead. Killed either during the Oblivion Crisis, or now… during this Aetherius Crisis.

"The stories where you wondered… if everything would return to normal… if it even could." I slashed the boy's head in half. "How could someone recover from the horrors they've witnessed? How could there be a normal?" I slashed through advancing zombies, slamming my shoulder into a necromancer I'd managed to cleave my way towards. "How could the world return to a bright beautiful world when it was consumed with so much darkness?" I thrust my katana through the chest of a Proud Necromancer. "When there was nothing bright shining in the current world. No light to be found, just ordinary people fighting for their right to enjoy their fucking life without constant darkness pressing their shit down our throats!"

I screamed as I jumped over the felled necromancer. "But you'd continue reading… because you knew… you knew that this world had more to offer… more to give. You knew that the heroes would somehow…" I cut through waves and waves of zombies. I could feel the memories of Grandma running through my brain. Of how she helped slaves in Morrowind escape. She fought a darkness almost as bad as those in the stories. And she not only survived, but birthed Mom… and through Mom… me. I existed as a result of surviving that horrible ordeal she lived through. "live their lives. You knew there had to be a happy ending, even if you couldn't see it. Even if you couldn't figure out how the story could obtain it."

I saw a tree overhead, and I used it as a shortcut. I used my claws, pulling me up. And from there, I could see the retreating leader. Time to finish this. I screamed, pushing myself off the tree's branch, falling right behind the necromancer. His thralls began to clamber over top of me.

They were pushing me down, holding me in a position that made it hard for me to move my katana.

"This is why those stories are written in paper… and not in history books." The necromancer leader smirked as he glanced down at me. "You have lost."

"No… I have a Phillip. And he's a trained Air Mage."

The heads of the thralls behind me exploded into bloody confetti. The arms holding me down lost their control and I pushed myself up, bringing my katana through the chest of the necromancer leader. "This is how this part of the story ends. Your darkness will now be removed. Me and my partner, Phillip will cleave through what remains of your army. This might not cleanse this world of the darkness that exists… there are still many threats for my friends and me to face." Vatu… "And some of us might die… but we will fight tooth, fang… claw… to restore this world to where it should be. For us… for our children. For their children. We will right the wrongs of your teachings. Of your doings. Go now, to your darkness knowing that I will do whatever it takes to bring back the light."

"Hypocrite." He muttered.

"At least in my ending… we all exist peacefully." I cleaved the necromancer's head off.

I turned my attention to the remaining thralls and necromancers. "I'm sorry I have to do this." I lowered my sword. "But soon… I will return you all to your peaceful rest. And the necromancers… they will no longer plague this land." My raz'akha was screaming at me. Time for me to finish this up. Time for me to Roar.

Cearbhail:

Oh, and I watched the full versions of the Lord of the Rings. I think it played a small part in the story telling in this chapter.