ELDER KNOWLEDGE
The Dragonborn
With the near failure on the Throat of the World, the Night Mother decides to count her blessings. First, Eve didn't jump over the edge as she appeared to want to do. It was good to keep Cicero around if only to keep her in line. Second, she was offered more power from that decaying dragon in the Soul Cairn. She didn't get it but prying at Eve's mind a little more will ensure it lands in her hands. And third, this coveted Elder Scroll they have to go look for has been conveniently kept hidden in the Castle. It was one of the first ones Harkon needed, and he wasn't foolish enough to throw it out after they used it, thank the gods.
They reach the Castle in the early morning. The carriage with one of the precious drivers finally rumbles over the steep side of the shore and near where the boat is kept. "Stay here." The Night Mother commands him. Gods knows it shouldn't take long to find this Scroll.
Eve is still kicking and screaming through the chains she's in. After she nearly flung herself from that ledge, the Night Mother isn't taking any chances with her. She will be on a ration of blood, a cup every other day. That should keep her powers and strength at bay and keep her from further disobeying.
"Mother! Should she go back to the dungeon?" Cicero pants with his newfound struggle of trying to keep Eve from squirming out of his grasp.
The Night Mother rolls her eyes. So many things to think about with the easiest of solutions. And no one but her seemed to notice. "Not now, Cicero. I don't want her out of our sight. It wouldn't be wise to leave her unattended after that little tiff of almost falling to her death." She now glares at Eve to send her point home. The girl doesn't notice. "But, keep her with us for now and I will decide before we leave."
The decision was made for her as they are tossed by the great waves over the small channel. The Night Mother sees ten of her people and Nazir lined up along the shore. She sighs heavily. Something must have happened in their absence.
"What is it?" She asks in way of greeting. The shoreline licks her feet and the hem of her dark dress when she disembarks the boat. Doesn't help that Eve is still squirming and nearly capsizing it. Nazir pulls her up by the elbow, no help that she needed, but she needed to get a good whiff of him.
He smells of fear and dog. Since they got rid of all those disgusting mutt-like vampire companions there was only one thing that would smell of that. "Did they get away?" She nearly exclaims. If those werewolves actually got out of their chains and around all the guards positioned throughout the Castle…then the Night Mother had some "firings" she had to do.
"No, mistress. They are holed up in the dungeons. Unfortunately, the White Wolf was able to tear through half the guard." Nazir won't meet her eyes.
"How many killed?" She bites out. If they lost a great number, they would then have to replenish. Which wouldn't be a problem if not for the frivolous dragon business taking up her time.
"Thirty or so dead. Babette is down counting." He finally gets out.
Thirty. Even though are getting stronger in numbers that is nearly half of the new initiates. "They didn't take any precautions? No silver swords, silver chains, nothing?" She looks at the assassin in disbelief. If anyone, she expected Babette and Nazir to be able to handle situations like this without any problems. Not allow half the Brotherhood to be slaughtered.
The Redguard clears his throat and begins to fidget. Only the Night Mother sees his frightened glance towards her Child in the chains. "Don't look at her. She is not your concern right now. Tell me what you did to those dogs."
"Rounded them up. It took all of us. The White Wolf is powerful, mistress. If I remember the lore right, it is a force to be reckoned with." He says in a dry tone. He usually jokes with the others, but something has his tongue right now.
Worries for another time. "Is that so?" She focuses on that information. The White Wolf…she heard whispers of it but never thought it significant enough to follow. "How much would someone…pay for such a creature?"
"Easily beyond six digits, mistress."
"Hm, she is rarer than we thought. Keep her chained up but for the love of the gods don't let those initiates do anything foolish or what they aren't supposed to. I assume that's how she got out?"
"No doubt about it. In other news, we got word you needed an Elder Scroll, and I have it right here." He sends her one of those heart-warming smiles, that is usually reserved to lure in prey, and pulls out the Scroll from his bag.
It's as if they just had to make it to shore to get this Scroll and shove off again. Unfortunately, for Nazir here, the Night Mother is more thorough. "Thank you, but I would like to go see what the rest of them are doing in the Castle. When I'm satisfied we will leave again." She passes him by in a flurry of commotion. The other initiates plead and apologize. She wants to snap all their necks for this altercation, but she needs to survey the damage first.
Blood stains the brick walls and floors of the dungeons. This isn't anything they can't deal with, Harkon at least made it easier for them to be able to scrub it out. As for the rest…it's disappointing. Bodies still litter the hallways and a quick glance says some of the most promising initiates lost their lives in battle. To a beast that should have been chained the whole time.
"Hm." Is all she says, "Clean this up. I'll go make sure things are coming along upstairs." The initiates that followed her the whole way begin to fuss over who takes which body.
"Mother." Cicero struggles to get close to her. He still has one hand on a weakening Eve. "What about Listener?"
"Bring her with us, I want her to see this." She smiles at Cicero then at Eve. Who is now stricken with terror, as she should be.
Back in the maze, out in that little garden, the Night Mother sees the plan is coming together smoothly. Initiates are working diligently on the moondial to add all the gems necessary. Mages and necromancers will be called in soon enough to finish the remaining spells. At least the wolves didn't bring their destructive paths out here.
"Eve." The Night Mother strokes her Child's hair. She's asleep, leaning against the Night Mother's leg. "Wake up," she says as softly as possible, "I have something to show you."
Eve jerks with a start but cannot say much with the binding in her mouth. No doubt she is starting to feel the effects of starvation at this point. So, when she sees the great contraption before her, she can't struggle as much. Plead. Defy. Whatever name you would have for her disrespectful behavior in the last year. She can't say a word now.
"Eve. This is it. This is how the precious Daedric Princes will be cast out from Mundus. When this is finished, it will use the same power in your ring but send a great beam up into the sky…" she has to be patient with how she explains this. It's like talking to an oblivious two-year-old with the haze Eve is certainly feeling. "If you see any of them, any of them at all, you might want to say your goodbyes sooner than later." She gives a tight smile. It would be wider, and genuine, if not for the stress the initiates were putting on her shoulders.
Soon. Soon, they will be gone. Once this dragon mess is cleared up, she can finally set her sights on taking the rest of Skyrim and Tamriel as a whole. Once the traitor Alduin is put back into the ground, the Brotherhood will be able to set up a way of killing as many people as possible before they can turn to worship. The statues of their great divines will be shattered. It wasn't like they entered this realm anyways.
What a laugh that was, most of the noble people sought out worship to the only beings who thought Nirn a disgusting place. And thus, would never think to set foot here. Who knew if they would actually be missing anything? When divine worship was outlawed a select size of the population will be set up for breeding purposes. Sithis always needs new souls.
For once, her Child does not struggle. The Night Mother curls her fingers through the girl's full black hair to comb out what won't stay in her braids. She watches as the only competent initiates slave away with putting new glass in. Soon, the moondial will be complete. But they have other matters to deal with first.
It was a tough decision. But after the little altercation while she was gone, she decided they won't take anymore chances.
"Nazir, you understand everything I am telling you?" She mulls over the pages in front of her again before raising her gaze to the fearful assassin.
"Yes, mistress. Keep an eye on the Castle and send the best initiates to guard you along with the wolves." Fearful? Maybe she had it wrong. He seems more relieved.
"Yes, I figure you are best with keeping the Sanctuary in place, barring what happened in the past few days. If I need you, you will have to come aid us. Understand?" Her girlish voice is clipped. It usually made anyone listening extremely weary and Nazir was no exception.
"Yes, mistress." He bows his head.
"Good. Go get Babette and tell her the plan then round up who you think is up to handle the job. I will go tell Cicero." She slams the book shut, it's glossy pages not yet worn out. She directed the initiates to collect these books from whatever province had them available. The embossing on the covers shows this one was dedicated to none other than Namira. It is wise to study up on your enemy, and this one seemed to have a stranglehold on the White Wolf based on the ring they tore off her murderous little finger.
"I'll be taking this book and a few others." She sighs. The man doesn't move, so she snaps, "Go. I have no use for your presence at the moment. I need to feed."
He bows his head and finally exits the dining hall. She takes a moment to breathe. Just a quick little second when no one is watching does she let the weight of the world show on her face. The dragons are trying her patience and if the Princes and the captives do anything more to set her back…she might have to make some sacrifices.
But not soon. Now is the time for blood. She rises delicately from her seat and wanders the room until she finds a good captive. Just some beggar taken from the streets of Solitude but he had a good scent. He almost screams through a raw and destroyed throat when she plunges her fangs in his neck. He had no reason to fear because soon the bliss of being fed from takes over. She's not ready until she nearly drinks him dry.
It was an awkward journey but the only possible option. When the Night Mother is at the peak of the Throat of the World, she looks back down on the people marching up the path below. Twenty initiates prod and push the two werewolves up the steep path. Their silver chains still seem to be working well even through the new clothing. Cicero has taken to nearly dragging Eve up the path as well. It does pain the Night Mother to see the state of her Child. A little more blood and things would be fine for her. But then she would be a problem.
No, they needed to wait. This is where she intends it all to end. That great, traitorous dragon was going to fall from the sky. Once that was over, she could do as she wished with her Children. The sky was darkening. It's as if he knew she would be here. Which only a fool would believe she wouldn't be. No, even without half her Brotherhood marching up the pass, she would still be here. The dragon has been marked for death.
In a strange sort of events, a very paranoid sort, the Night Mother directed her surviving initiates to take on this task. In the dead of the night, when only those closest to the heart of Sithis were awake, she set her initiates to perform a mass Black Sacrament on the remaining dead. The wolves thought they were clearing a path out of the Castle by killing all those members. Little did they know, they were making her job easier.
After the clock chimed four in the morning, the Sacrament was complete. It took no less than four hours. She would rather it have been three, but she wasn't in the position to beg. Initiates trailed out of the dungeon back to their beds for a few hours of sleep, but the Night Mother remained.
She watched her dead and tended to their bodies until the final candle went out. Then, she felt the Sacrament firmly settle into her bones. Alduin was marked for death. She would be the one to perform it. When she was leaving the room, she directed Cicero to get all the heads he could to set outside on their elaborate wooden spikes. It is a good idea to deter the enemy but also show the initiates what might happen to them if they make any missteps.
"You have it. The Kel- the Elder Scroll. Tiid Kreh…. Qualos. Time shudders at its touch." The great dragon Paarthurnax greets her on the peak of the Throat of the World.
"Thank the vampire scum for getting this." She holds it up. "You would not believe the ordeal I went through to kill him." She glances back at her approaching Brotherhood. "And forgive me. Dii Lahvu."
The dragon peers through the relentless snowstorm to see all the members nearly fighting one another for who gets to bring the werewolves up. "An enigma you are, Dovahkiin. I will allow it if you know what you risk."
A slow grin spreads across her face. "Of course, I know. And I won't have to risk anything when I see the evil dragon again. I am not anticipating this encounter will be long enough to warrant their secured safety." She nods to her members.
The dragon laughs. "Suit yourself, Dovahkiin. There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then, Fulfill your destiny." He nods his large head to her in respect.
She will take what she can get from the bumbling fool. It was nice to have him around to fill in the pieces that the Greybeards were conveniently ignorant to. Cicero is panting at her side now. "Mother what do we do?"
"And where is your sister?" She watches him with an assessing eye. It was unlike him to abandon her with what she was capable of.
He points. "She gave up."
Highly unlikely. Even with the ration of blood and the Daedric Prince ring, she would still have some fight in her. "A moment, Paarthurnax, then I will go read the Scroll."
The Night Mother makes her way through the fresh snow to find her Child limp and lifeless at a nearby rock. Her skin is nearly as pale as the flurries falling on her.
"Get up." The Night Mother stands over her.
The woman says nothing.
The Blood Flower reaches down and grabs Eve roughly by the arm. "Wake up. This is important." She shakes her when her Child doesn't respond.
She sighs, her patience is for once, wearing thin. Then again, Eve has been eroding it for years. "Eve. Wake up."
"I don't want to hear you anymore." Is all she says.
The Night Mother drops her to the snow and has to refrain the urge to kick her. "You might want to wake up to see all of this. It's going to be important."
"More…blood." She whispers into the snow.
The Night Mother rolls her eyes. "No. I know what you are doing. You think yourself clever? Waiting for me to administer enough blood to regain your powers? You are a fool if you think that would happen. Nearly as foolish as your brother."
"Mother!" Cicero gasps.
The Night Mother has to bite her tongue. "In a good way." She says to lessen the tension.
She watches her Children for a moment more before snapping her fingers. "Cicero, give her a few drops of blood then restrain her further. I have business to deal with."
A designated spot is pointed out to her by Paarthurnax. She stands at the edge of the mountain and pulls out the gleaming Scroll. Something so precious and so sought out is finally in her hands. A rarity at times. She quiets her musings and rolls open the Scroll to witness it's wisdom.
What she finds is largely uneventful. A pathetic lot of Nords argue over a dragon kill. Then, Alduin arrives. The Night Mother studies his flight, the way he lands, his movements upon landing, and more importantly, his fighting style. He preferred to take to the skies like a sniveling coward and never took the Nords on directly.
It is not until the Nords show her their shout of Dragonrend that he is brought down as if in chains. A fight ensues with more dialogue, then the dragon is finally banished by an Elder Scroll. But the Night Mother has seen all she needs to know.
When the vision goes white she looks up to find the shadow of Alduin falling over her. "Bahloki nahkips sillesejoar. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin."
How charming, he's taunting her. "Souls that surely belong to Sithis. I will make sure they are taken to the Void, Alduin. You made a mistake when you turned away my offer."
"An offer that will benefit me none, Dovahkiin. Go now and wait your fate with Sithis!" He roars over her before taking flight again in the winter storm.
"Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend, if you know it!" Paarthunax yells to her.
Of course, but she would not be so predictable just yet. Alduin flies around her, throwing out waves of power toward her. Yet, they are easy to dodge. Not as much for her Brotherhood members who are now rallying around in a large group to keep the wolves at bay.
Have they learned nothing? She just watches as Alduin swoops down to take a few of the members up in his jaws. She scours them. None of them are her Children or the wolves. Pity. She will have to hunt down more initiates after this nightmare is over.
Alduin soars over her head and gives a crush of his jaws. She hears the inevitable snap and spies the gleam of humor in his eyes. This won't last long.
She lashes out, the power of the storm flies through her body and over his wing. Electricity sizzles over the dragon, nearly throwing him out of the air. He repositions and keeps flight. But she can see the surprise on his face.
"Dovahkiin! Dragonrend!" Paarthunax reminds her. Annoyingly so.
"Shut up." She says and with the wind it's enough for him to hear. He looks at her in shock but she doesn't take pause.
The Brotherhood members are now pulling those in chains and incapacitated down the pass. Little did they know it was a more vulnerable position. Alduin knows this. He calls to the skies and soon, meteors are falling to earth.
Screams sound from down below. This makes the Night Mother's blood boil. Not only for the lives lost but the fact that those lives were too incompetent to seek shelter in the right way. She pulls from the Void.
Lighting tears through the sky. A thunderstorm is here to send the snowstorm away, and instead of flurries falling to the ground there is only rock and pure, electric, power. Alduin screeches with the assault. She even hears Paarthurnax let out a yell. The thunderstorm is random. When the earth is scorched enough does it end.
She looks up to find Alduin barely taking flight with pieces of his wings in tatters. Good. This won't take much longer. She lets out the shout of Dragonrend.
He falls. Blue power surrounds him as he plummets to the earth. She grins when he crashes into the ground at her feet. His bloodied and burnt face moves so he can peer up at her. "Dovahkiin. A marvel."
"You made the wrong choice." She should have said something else but she had to drive her point home.
Seconds later the storm consumes him again. He lets out a cry of anguish with the electricity that simmers over him. The Night Mother watches in glee. The supposedly, evil and treacherous dragon is as weak as a newborn babe at her feet. And just as vulnerable. He simmers with rage but also pain. A sight she has seen far too often. And one she has seen the most on her Child.
She peers over the thriving form of the dragon to see Eve among the Brotherhood. She is still pale and failing but her eyes watch the dragon in horror. As it should be.
Yet, the distraction was a misstep. One she should not have taken. Teeth surround her. She slips in the snow with the force of his outburst. Alduin tries to pry into her skin but instead of fighting, she lets the momentum take them.
"Mother!" Screams Cicero.
She goes over the edge with Alduin at her whim.