THE JAGGED CROWN
The Harbinger
I watch the frost bloom along the ragged cobblestone with ease. It used to be warmer but now that the sun has set again the snow has a chance to advance. The crystals are so pristine. So clear edged. Even Aerin used to tell me that each snowflake had their own individual structure. A beautiful, unique, phenomenon of nature.
It was like me. As each frost bloom iced the cobblestone walls and floor, it would eventually shatter. I knew this when the Stormcloaks above would stomp a little too loudly. The sparse icicles down here would plummet and cause a great noise to wake me.
I would huddle in the corner, with my eyes darting everywhere. Scouring for the sound that could be my undoing. But it never came. It was only a figment of my imagination.
Now, the shadows lengthen once again. I crouch in the corner so maybe she won't see me this time. The shadow woman, a being of literal shadows paces the edge of the room. Her massive cloak floats out from her and grazes the cobblestones, taking their precious frost with her.
I sink lower when her head turns. It's such a simple movement. Her eyes are on me. I can't discern them from her face like I can with an ordinary person, but I know they are there. I scratch my nails against the stones with my labored breathing. She paces towards me.
My nails are sharper. No one thought to cut them the whole time I was in the Night Mother's Castle. And not during the time I have been here. "Mjoll." The shadow speaks.
I keep my mouth shut. I know better than to talk to her. I shouldn't. I know who it is. But I won't say a word. Some instinct, deep inside me, screams at me not to. I lower my eyes, so I disengage her. She will see nothing but a shell of a woman plastered against the wall.
"Mjoll, it's me. Nocturnal. You are hurt. You need help. You need to get out of these chains." She signals to those that lay on my wrists. I keep my head bowed.
"You are not Nocturnal." I grind out with labored breath. It has been so hard to breathe of recent.
"I am. I've found a way to contact you through the Shivering Isles. There's still hope Mjoll. We are thinking of a way to…"
Her next words are cut off by my shouts. "You are not real! You are a figment of my imagination, nothing more! The Daedric Princes are gone! Banished from Mundus for all time, so please, leave me alone!"
The shadows scatter with the sudden light. A door has opened from the other side of the room. I crouch lower. Maybe then they will not see me.
"Wolf! Wolf! You must wake!" The obtuse man, a very large man covered in bear hides comes to rattle the cage. I have to resist the urge to hiss at him. He is by far the most annoying to prowl this hollow room.
"Wolf." He grins through the bars. His hands clutch them as if he wishes to break them this instant. "I've found it. The final resting place of the Jagged Crown. Can you believe it?" He rattles the cage again, making me flinch. The thing hasn't eaten barely anything. What warrior will she be? Even my own men eat as much as a horse if they were allowed to! His thoughts are intrusive, but I can't keep them out.
"My men and I will be headed to Korvanjund. If Old King Borgas is indeed buried there, we're bound to run into trouble of some kind. It's why you'll be coming with us." He rattles the cage again to wake me My eyes are just so heavy. "Hear that? You're coming with us, and you are to go in first. I'll be back once the preparations are made. I hope you will be livelier by then." He reaches one hand down with the other firmly holding the bar and flings a slab of meat through.
It's a small piece, enough to feed an adult woman of average height. But wolves need far more. I will take what I can get. I lunge for it and tear into the hunk with my bare teeth. My canines are sharp, sharper than they usually are, so the meat comes off cleanly
The man chuckles loudly, "A wonderful addition to the Stormcloak legion. I hope the legends are true, if so, then you will be a fearsome beast that no one shall conquer!" He slams his fist against the cage, frightening me once again.
I move on quick feet to the other side of the room with the meat still hanging from my lips. Very well, I shall eat in peace here. The footsteps grow fainter before the door closes with another slam.
I shake but I keep eating. I will need all the meat I can get. That unfortunate man. I don't think he understands what he is truly dealing with. Since coming through the portal of Sovngarde back into Mundus, I have not been…in the best frame of mind.
My thoughts are scrambled. Those few people who pass by send stray ones to me. I can hear everything now. See everything now. Even through the walls I see their aura. The living and the few deceased sit down in these halls. Some awaiting burial and those who are unknowingly running to their own.
When I have finished my meal, I lean my forehead against the frost ridden cobblestone. It is cold to the touch and brings on a shiver. I lay my palms flat against it. I'm still cold. Still frozen to the bone if I were being honest. My powers are slipping. It could be a blessing, I could go on a rampage, kill all the Stormcloaks and escape, but I doubt that will be possible. My lover still sits on the other side of that wall. His aura is strong and fierce even though I know they have certainly starved him.
I keep an eye on it. His is a strong forest green whereas the rest are a darker purple. If I can find a way to get him out, then I can worry about myself in due time.
A few days later, after a very long trek through the relentless blizzards ravaging Eastmarch, I am flung out into the cold plains of The Pale. I can't stop my shaking. I am chilled to the bone out here in my thin tunic and long pants. Even though they cover a fair amount of my body they are nothing compared to this frigid feeling.
It's almost like I never grew up with the frozen peaks at my back. Almost like I never relished in the feel of the freshly fallen snow after a hard-fought battle in an ancient Nordic Tomb. It's almost as if I were never a White Wolf, who was forged in the frozen north.
I shouldn't feel anything but relief.
Instead, I am wild. I sit up on my hands and knees and begin to crawl through the foot of snow and ice to anywhere that would keep me safe and warm.
"Wolf! What are you doing? You should be changing already." Galmar, the bear man, yells at me, "Damn thing. Ulfric said this might happen." He grumbles behind me. I am ready for his steel boot to kick me in the rear, but nothing happens. I keep crawling. It's hard to see where I'm going with my teeth chattering.
"What is this? What did Ulfric say about the wolf?" One of the Stormcloak soldiers turns away from our destination to stare at the man.
"That it should be powerful! It should be able to withstand this cold! No! It should be more than that, it should be thriving!" Galmar explodes in a frenzy. I peek over my shoulder to see him waving his hands erratically. It does look silly in his long bear hide. "That thing should have been able to make the trek and be ready for battle right now."
"Maybe we didn't feed it enough?" The soldier asks.
"Feed it enough? I gave it enough damn food to feed the lot of you! You think that's not enough?"
"No but it's a werewolf…" The soldier states in disbelief.
"I know that. Ulfric told me. I fed it. Clothed it. Damn well almost bathed it and gave it a room! What more pampering would it need?" Galmar begins to stomp around. I see he is wearing a path through the snow. I begin to follow it, then my forearms wouldn't be so exposed.
"The Night Mother said something about it." One of the female soldiers pipes up. I look up to see her soaked cape and armor. These soldiers were braving the cold just as I am, but they at least had the clothing for it.
"What was that? Ah, yes, Ulfric's new puppet. What did she have to say?" Galmar eyes her with a look close to jealousy. I would think that if I were in the right frame of mind. But for the moment I am nowhere near anything warm. When I near him, I close my trembling arms around Galmar's form. He is the warmest of the group.
"Damn thing! Get off!" He tries to kick me away but I hold on for dear life. My shaking is more bearable now.
"She said it was damaged on the way out of Sovngarde, something about the Daedric Princes being banished. They gave her these powers, so it goes to say that she would be affected by their absence." The woman finishes softly.
"Get off." The bear of a man finally flings me from his legs. I flop to my other side, on the cold ground. Now I have enough warmth for something… I pull my legs up so I can wrap my arms around them. This is better.
"Those things? You actually believe that horseshit?" Galmar guffaws, "You actually think the Daedric Princes are moving us around like pawns all while the divines cower in the corner? That's not how this works. Talos might save us in the end, kinsman, but you better know we are the only ones to pave our path. We don't need someone else doing it for us."
"They were trying to stop her. Trying to help you and you don't see." I moan from my spot on the ground. If I stay here longer, maybe the snow will melt and I can curl up in the soft grass below.
"Pathetic." Galmar spits, "I know you went to Sovngarde wolf. I know you fought her. But you were not victorious. She came out on top, and she is back here. Even if the Princes were mounting a force against her, they failed. I respect that. Even though I do not trust her in the slightest…" He trails off before nudging me with his boot. "Now get up. We must get to this crown before the Imperial bastards do. You need to change over wolf. Ulfric said to ask you nicely. So, I am. But I won't be for long." His tone dips with that threat.
I just peer up at the crazed man. He really thinks the Night Mother is nothing but a nuisance? "You think you would have won against the Brotherhood." I state clearly. It is hard to hear with my raw voice but he does.
He laughs, "Yes. Yes, I do. I have nothing but faith in my men. Up with you, wolf."
I rise on shaky legs. He helps me with the last of my ascent, by clasping my arm. "Here." He hands me another slab of meat the Stormcloaks had brough with them. I eat it quickly. "Now, can you change?" He asks me. His slate gray eyes glare back from under his bear hide. In turn, the thing's black, beady eyes peer over his head as if to mock me.
It won't cooperate. I told Ulfric. We better bring the other wolf here…
"Yes." I say before his thoughts go further. I have been catching glimpses of them of recent, and I've determined my standing in this situation: They need me for their furthered advancement in the Province, I need them to keep Vilkas alive. Their treatment of me is…kinder than the Night Mother ever was, so I am fine with cooperating until I see a good exit. I am not sure if they will kill Vilkas. But I know the Night Mother, holed up in the Palace of the Kings with him, would not spare a second thought.
He nods to me. Quick and effective. I fall to all fours and call the moon again. It was so hard the first time when they threw me out here. And this time is no different. It's like nothing is reflecting back to me. I think of Hircine. The Hunt. The sound of Whiterun when I first rose as the beast. Vilkas's shocked face when he first saw me. Kodlak and all his wisdom. I could go on forever with these thoughts. But they don't bring on the change.
I hit my head on the snow, panting and exhausted. "What is it? Not enough food?" Galmar asks with a gravely voice behind me.
"I am not sure. I think it is the time of day." I motion to the sun, now slowly falling near the Reach. It is hard to see over the blanket of clouds, but we are obviously not about to see sunset for a few more hours.
The man growls. I can hear his teeth clenching. I will prod it with my sword if I have to…
"Fine. We wait. Just until dusk wolf, then you try again."
The moon finally peeked through the clouds. I am writhing on the ground. Halfway through the change. My teeth, my eyes, my ears, my nails had already gone through with it. But nothing else.
"By Talos…" One of the soldier's murmurs as the nails on my right hand lengthen into sharp nails.
"This is taking too long. Those damn Imperial spies are here. They don't seem to know we are camped just outside yet. But our chances of a surprise attack are waning." Galmar, the only one not upset by the process of my change peers down at me. "Wolf, can you hear me?"
I snarl, my fangs have elongated enough that I can barely close my mouth. My eyes are wild. Darting back and forth between everyone. I am just waiting for the final re-arrangement of limbs. Nothing happens.
"Wolf, we have very little time. We need to get moving. Can you run ahead like that?" He asks, stone cold. I expected nothing more.
I stop moving. Lay still on the ground and pray, Hircine, hear me and send me aid. Help me.
Only the sharp wind answers me. I shiver with the sudden gust. My hands, ears, eyes and nails are the only things that have changed. That might have to do.
It is painful to rise. I know my muscles were just starting to lengthen and curve to fit that taller frame, so they are painful to the touch and will undoubtedly be sore in the morning. My eyes are sharp but also uncontrollable. I feel pain behind them when I take in the torches some of the soldiers are carrying. It is like they are searing into my retinas.
I turn my eyes away. My hand comes up to shield my face and I shudder when I see the state of my hand. It's halfway between a woman and a beast.
"If you can walk, you can run. Go get them and my men and I will follow quickly." Galmar is in my face. The head of the bear on his helmet is lowered, it's like they are melding into one.
"Too bad you were never a were-bear." I laugh when the sound barley makes it through my teeth.
His brow furrows. "Not the time for games! Go!" He grasps my shoulders and flings me behind him. I go racing along the frozen ground and use the momentum. Now, I can run. The muscles in my legs feel wonky, yet they are useful. I am faster this way. Stronger, I might say.
When I reach the entrance to the tomb, I leap into it. There are stairs covering the sides to allow passage to and from the burial tombs, but they seem to be of little use. An Imperial screams when I scrape my razor-sharp claws down his back. I shove my hands so they go deeper. He falls dead at my feet.
A battle cry sounds and I turn to find an Imperial woman racing towards me. Her face moves from a ferocious snarl to a horrified mask when she sees me. "The gods…" She whispers but I won't let her say another word. I lunge across the way and tear her throat out with one bite.
"Good! Good job, wolf!" Galmar yells from above. I hear the other Imperials engaged with the Stormcloaks and let them be. The others scramble away from me just to race up the steps into another trap that Galmar has set up. If anything, he is very adept at his line of work.
When the lot of them are slaughtered, Galmar races to me. "Good work, wolf. You take the lead." He claps me on one shoulder then pushes me ahead of him.
I do so. I keep pace before them. All while opening up my mind again.
Damn thing is a miracle, I should have had Ulfric get us one sooner…
By Talos look at what all she did…
Those Imperials never had a chance…
Vilkas. I think to him.
Nothing comes back to me.
I bristle at that. "What of the other wolf?" I say as Galmar leads me from behind with a strong hand on my shoulder.
"The man? Fine and well last I saw him." He chuckles.
"The Night Mother. Would she harm him?" I ask. Just the thought of it makes my blood boil. But I must remain calm.
"Her? No. I doubt it. Ulfric has talked some sense into her. Why, last time we were in the war room she requested a full-on assault of Solitude! How delusional is that? She thinks my men are up to that standard as of now? When the Imperials still have Hjaalmarch under their thumb? What a crazed woman. But don't tell her I said that." He laughs.
I keep my eyes trained on the door ahead. "I won't. Keep him safe, well fed, and release him when all this is over and I promise I'll do good by you."
The man behind me laughs deep and low. "We'll see about that wolf. I follow Ulfric before anything else. If he wishes that man thrown into the new recruits with some of the other men, I will not hesitate to do so."
I mull over this. They aren't torturing him. They don't seem to want to. If anything, Galmar is chomping at the bit to turn Vilkas into a soldier. I could handle that. I know he would be able to fight his way out of it and back to me.
"Might want to. This power, you have seen nothing like it before." I hassle him.
"Is that so, wolf? Then show me just what I'm missing." He growls in my ear when the doors are opened for me by the others.
He shoves me but he doesn't have to. I race into the tomb like the Night Mother herself were chasing me. The soft lighting form the moon outside is now replaced with torches and candles. I nearly sigh in relief when my eyes adjust. I'm better equipped for this.
"What was that?" A soft whisper comes from behind the grand column.
I crouch and make my way around. I have to keep from gazing at the architecture here. It is crumbling and nothing much for the average explorer, but I used to scour these kinds of tombs for days as a young one. There were so many treasures here. Useful and otherwise.
The woman turns, quickly as she can but her draw isn't fast enough. I launch and slam my paws into her face. She is dead and crumpled before she can even grasp the hilt of her short sword.
I smell blood. It smells like copper, but I can also smell the sweetness just below it. My mind is hazy once again. I have had this occurrence often in the dungeons of the Palace of the Kings. I wish for it no more. It's like someone stuffed cotton in my head after smacking me around a good few times.
I lean down, her throat is so close, still fresh. The only thought on my mind is I could tear her apart and eat what I can.
"Wolf! By Talos thank the gods that it happened! What are you doing? I told you to pick a man and put him down! Not devour him." Galmar emerges from the shadows. I snarl but turn my head. Only then do I see the carnage around me. The Stormcloaks killed all the Imperials in here without me noticing. I also completed the change. Now, below me, my hands have formed into those white furred paws I remember.
"Here. This is more civilized." Galmar grins, not in a friendly way, and throws more meat from his pack to the ground. The woman all but forgotten, I scramble over her to snatch the delicious food up. It smelled better, anyways.
So potent. So nourishing. So perfect. I turn to stare at the dead woman again.
"Wolf. Focus." Galmar grabs me by the scruff and yanks.
I bristle, but he keeps on pulling. So, I roar loud enough to shake the pillars and send him to the ground. The other Stormcloaks surround him. They have their weapons out but they appear they won't use them. "Haha, what a surprise! There's those teeth I've been looking for." Galmar smiles up at me. "Her fur! The witch was right. This is the coveted White Wolf we've been seeking."
I'm breathing heavily but the woman on the ground doesn't seem as enticing anymore. My senses sharpen, my mind clears. I back up.
Don't touch me like that again. Ever. I send those thoughts to him. Some guards clamp their hands over their ears, others give me startled looks. Galmar only gives me that tooth-baring grin. "I knew you were everything we needed. I won't touch you again. I swear it. Just go kill those Imperials for me."
I growl at him. Instead of arguing further, I turn and run. On all four paws I make it into the next room when Galmar commands the others. "Gretta, Engar, stay and guard the entrance. We don't want any Imperial enforcements taking us by surprise. The rest of you lot are with me…"
I burst through one of the flimsy doors to find two Imperials scrunching about the smaller room. There's no crown in here so I turn before I can be taken by the bloodlust again. A woman screams ahead. I sink down and begin to race. My limbs are just screaming for relief when I see an Imperial up ahead. She raises her sword to sink it in to one of the Stormcloaks.
I launch myself to fly through the air and tackle her. We go over the edge. I forgot in tombs such as these there was usually an area for ceremony. The larger room means we fall over a story down to the depths below. Her back gives a sickening crunch. I don't have to listen for her heart to know she was dead on impact.
Fighting ensues around me. I give in to the bloodlust and kill more Imperials before the end. Now, Galmar is staring at the door he can't seem to open. "Perfect place for an ambush. I wouldn't be surprised if they're waiting on the other side…"
She is doing well. Maybe tonight we feed the other wolf…
Do so. I think to him. He gives me a startled look. To send my point home I race to the door barricading us from the other side and use all my force to break it. The bars move, they squeeze open with my assault. They just aren't wide enough. I go again. It still won't budge. But each time I hear the bars giving way. I attack it once more before I remember.
The spectral power. I'm not sure if I can use it in my state. But I will sure try. I call to the moon. Remember what it felt like to melt through something. Like the chains in the Night Mother's Castle. My paws now push through the bar, they sink in as if this were nothing more than quicksand. I ready for the rest of my body to get through it but then it ends. I end up stuck.
I whimper when my wrists are trapped. Panic swells in my chest. I cannot allow this. It feels like the bars have been put right through my arms! I try to call to the moon once again. The power comes trickling in…slowly. It won't be enough to get my body through it.
Someone push me. I think to the others.
Soon, Stormcloaks are surrounding me and laying their hands on my soft fur. I call the moon again. My spectral form comes forth. I almost fall through the bars, but not quite. They are not up to my biceps. "Again! Push her again and she'll be through!" Galmar yells behind me.
I barely register that he was actually using the pronoun I would prefer instead of it. I am not a thing, and it seemed he didn't want to treat me as such. I fall through when I use my strength to break the bars completely. The cage shatters, sending me to the ground.
I'm panting. The others pass me by to enter the next room, and I hear the Imperials engage them in battle. But my mind is hazy once again. All I can think of is the Night Mother. Her young face staring me down in Sovgarde. The kind of power she wielded against me and Eve. How strong she was. So strong that not even the Daedric Artifact from the Prince of Destruction could bring her down.
That creature was locked up in the Palace of the Kings with Vilkas. She could do whatever she wanted with him. My lungs constrict painfully. Those welts I suffered from those chains in the Castle…the pain…
I can't allow that to happen to Vilkas.
"Wolf! A little help here?" One of the Stormcloaks yells back to me.
I rise on strong legs, my mind is now clear, I have one singular goal in mind. To kill anyone who gets in our way.
A little under an hour later, if I were to guess, we now stand with Imperials littering the ground. Some, we killed on sight, the rest were already dead. Some of the soldiers and Galmar were quietly studying the sculptural relief on the parallel walls.
I glanced over it. It was like many other relief's that are placed in burial tombs. Scenes that showed great battles, and the resulting death. Down below we would no doubt find the end of this tomb.
I smell around the guards littering the floor when I suppress a groan. That familiar pain in my stomach was coming back. This means my change will soon be over, I will have to shift back.
"What's taking so long?" Galmar grumbles, "I thought you said you were a coffin dweller, looked around these things a little too often. Shouldn't you know how to get through?"
He's asking me. I just lower my head and wait. I hear gasping behind me when my limbs begin to shorten, my muscles rearrange themselves to fit my human skeleton, my ears grow shorter. When I open my eyes, I see they are the same as the wolf. That has not changed. My hands are at least human again.
I run my tongue over my teeth and it is confirmed. I have eyes of the wolf and the teeth of one but I am fully human, I would hope. I glance down at the rest of me and find no more fur, no more strange limbs.
"You wanted to change back so soon? We could have used that strength." Galmar mentions.
"I have no choice. I used to. But that Artifact is gone." I say to the ground. I'm not sure if I keep my head bowed in shame or so they don't see my eyes, but I keep staring at the floor.
Truth be told, I did try. I thought the Artifacts were melded into my skin. I should have been able to call them back. But so far, I have felt nothing. Just the horrible fog in my brain and the periodic stomach aches. That, and the random changing of my extremities. When I am human I always seem to retain a part of the wolf.
I feel his hesitation, but soon he is throwing Grimsever to clatter on the ground next to me. "Use this weapon. I know it was on you when we took you, a warrior needs their own trusty weapon when in the thick of the fight." He nods to me.
Tears burn my inhuman eyes. I pull Grimsever close. I have never been so happy to see the sword in my life. "Thank you." I say. There is no way I will be able to sheathe it at my side since I am without a belt and proper armor. So, I will carry her.
"What of the door? Have you found a way out?" One of the soldiers asks.
"Here." I grasp the ebony claw laying before me. This is why I didn't resist the change back. It was getting too challenging to send my thoughts to the others, and I needed human hands to decode this puzzle.
The pictures are simple and straightforward. I rise to move the corresponding signs on the door before us. It opens quickly.
"You won't change back?" The relentless man comes to stand next to me.
"I can't for another day or so. Give it time to rest, if you force it back it won't go well." I look him in the eyes then. He can't suppress the shudder at what he sees.
In the final room, I seem to be the only one to notice the Jagged Crown resting on the draugr's head. The others are off fighting more of the undead, so I go to retrieve the treasure Galmar has his sights on.
It's a basic Nordic helmet, aside from the bones lining the outside of it. It looks quite impressive when worn. It is too bad that I have to take it from this draugr.
I am just raising it when the hairs on the back of my neck raise. The thing looks up to me with eyes glowing. He shouts.
I go flying back a good few feet from the assault. This force is like what I felt from the Night Mother but far less imposing. I roll quickly. The others seem to be locked in battle, so they are no help. "Glamar! A deathlord." I tell him.
"I'll be there in a minute wolf! If you can change, do so!"
I can't, and it would take too long if I could. I just raise Grimsever and take the challenge for the battle. The draugr shouts again but this time I have my feet planted correctly. The thing is snarling at me so much that I feel droplets from its mouth. Disgusting.
He prowls closer, while pulling his ancient blade. I ready my own. Those weapons look sturdy, they would be to stand the test of time. But there is always a weakness.
I raise Grimsever just in time to catch the blade from taking my head. The thing screams in my face. I pull Grimsever down and to the side, readying it just for the killing blow in the ribs. But this draugr is crafty.
I feel a quick kick in my gut. I fall backwards with the force. I have to stifle a scream when I feel its blade slices my shoulder. It was too close to the heart for comfort.
I kick out with my leg to send the draugr off balance. It works long enough for me to get on my knees. Then the shout happens again. I hear the rattling of old bones and peer up to see other draugr encroaching on me. Two Stormcloaks are dead, and the others are still engaged.
My heart is racing. I feel the panic I have not felt since a young one. First locked into battle with those far stronger than I am. A draugr slashes his sword down my left arm. I turn quickly to kill it before going for another behind me. It doesn't work. The deathlord sends another wave of his power over me.
I fall to my hands and knees again. Grimsever is flung from my grasp to land a few feet away. His bony foot lands on my back. I know what will happen next if he shoves me to the ground. This is usually their preferred way of killing. When their prey is weak and flailing on the floor.
"Wolf! We are overrun!" Galmar is beginning to worry. I hear it in his voice. This is not good.
I push against that foot so hard it should have broken it straight off. The sword comes down, I feel the edge of it just piercing the back of my neck.
I scream, a battle cry long held in me, and turn to lash out at the creature. His head is cut clean off with the force of Dawnbreaker. It is a short sword, so there is no way it could have been able to get all of his neck, but then I remember the light. This Artifact is meant to kill those who died before. It is the bane of all the undead.
The draugr falls to the ground in a pool of flames. The others surround me but fall to the same fate. I'm now panting over them, watching them burn alive and hearing their awful screams. When they're nothing but ash I look to the other Stormcloaks. They are all done with battle and watching in amazement.
Galmar gives a low whistle. "What a surprise, I had no idea you were privy to magic! It is good to be the jack of all trades, wolf. Keep that up, and we'll have the Imperials dead at our feet before year's end."
Those words puzzled me, but I found the silver lining in between them. They thought I had fire magic. They didn't see Dawnbreaker, burning in my hands. I kept it hidden. I tried to take it back into my skin, erase it from the world once again, but it never left. It only seemed to grow hotter. So, I kept it nice and wrapped up in my new cloak.
Galmar was feeling generous. With my killing spree giving him confidence and the reassurance that they made the right choice keeping me alive, he gave me a cloak and a set of lightweight hide armor.
"When we get back to the Palace of the Kings with this," Galmar holds up the Jagged Crown with an appraising eye, "Ulfric will owe me a drink."
I give a slight smile to that and nod my head. We have a long ride ahead of us until we get there.
"And you, don't worry, I'll keep your trusty sword safe and sound with me" He pats his leg where he re-sheathed Grimsever. I had given it a longing look. I hate when I part with it. But I know I will have it back soon enough. "I will let Ulfric know that you needed new clothing. That armor you have there, he will allow it because you won't be able to use that as a weapon." He adds.
I keep my smile to myself. I'll let them think that, but in truth, they weren't as intelligent as I thought if they didn't know by now: All the armor and weaponry I ever needed is here in my skin. Kept alive and on Nirn with the beating of my heart.
My mind keeps racing. This would mean a good chance to escape with Vilkas now that I know the Artifacts are still with me. And furthermore, I might have a chance to kill the Night Mother once again. I have little faith that her immortality extends beyond Sovngarde. I only need to keep Dawnbreaker hidden long enough to get the other Artifacts back. Then, I can lure her to my cage.
Cicero's Journal Entry
5th of Hearthfire, 4E 202
It is early in the morning. Not even Listener is up yet. But Cicero cannot sleep for he is so hot! There's too much sweat and a stench in the room…
Cicero should savor it a little more. He knows this is the last night of his mortality. After this…the cold will be all I feel. I've felt Listener's hands before. How cold they were. Mother's were the same. In truth, Cicero is nervous. But if he has such great role models in those two…he should have nothing to fear.