Chapter 17: Where Dreams Become Nightmares
Torygg took a swig of mead as dinner was served. "Well, the time has certainly flown by today. But all of these adventures you guys had are far too interesting. Nothing in the history books even mentions Errick's adventures."
"History is written by the victors, my father used to say. My friends don't get much recognition in the history books, aside from Akira for being Harbinger of the Companions. The Thieves Guild is infamous for remaining as just rumors, and Scarlai never let anyone who witnessed his crimes remember them. As for Stryger, he has numerous volumes on the mysteries of magic. Some details have been lost from the books, yes, but at the time the five of us decided it would be for the best. Besides, I have yet to tell you more about some of the dangers that came into my story, and the results of such chaos."
*Back at Dawnstar, Jornada and Erandur had made it to a strange keep that had been atop the hill from Dawnstar. Jornada's body shivered from the cold even as she hugged her cloak tighter to her mortal body. This piece of meat that was her body she stole from a random necromancer was far too frail, but it did give her the ability to blend in. Usually, she could just turn herself into a mortal, but something must have happened the last time she was here two-hundred years ago. Back then, she had basically been a mindless werewolf, slain by The Stranger, the Champion known as Caleb Secus, and what she could tell was a vampire from the smell and ferocity of the lightning attacks.
"There is something I should warn you about." Erandur spoke, snapping her attention back towards reality.
"What is it?"
"There was a miasma released in this place ages ago that put all residents inside to sleep. The cultists had been attacked by an orc tribe that had been plagued by nightmares from Vaermina. It's possible that when we open the door, we'll have to fight them off."
"Terrific." Jornada said sarcastically. "Well, we better get this over with, then."
Erandur nodded and opened the door. Jornada stepped inside with her Daedric sword raised. There was currently no one to attack, so she took it as a good sign. Once the door closed, she removed her cape and looked around the dark room. The entire place looked like a church, but it was in ruins. There was a strange glow on the wall in front of her, but she couldn't tell what it was. That was when Erandur stepped up.
"One moment. I can handle this."
He launched a spell from his hand at the wall. Jornada watched as the entire wall became ethereal, letting Erandur pass through.
"Clever." Jornada mouthed behind her helmet. She walked through the translucent wall and continued to follow Erandur through the corridors. There was a loud humming that she couldn't quite place echoing through the chambers, but there was an opening of some kind in the form of bars along the path of walls. Jornada was able to look down below to see the cause of the sound.
"There it is." Erandur spoke as he approached Jornada to look down at the artifact. "The Skull of Corruption. It has been the cause of Dawnstar's nightmares, and the source of Vaermina's influence in this area. The Skull feeds on the power of dreams, and it has been here long enough. We must hurry. The people of Dawnstar depend on us."
Jornada turned away from the beauty of the Skull, knowing this was the weapon she sought control over. All she needed to do was get to it, and the power to influence The Stranger's realm would be hers. Of course, there were a few complications that needed to be removed first.
Like the giant energy barrier that had been placed up.
"Damn it." Erandur spoke. "There's an energy field blocking our path. Nothing can break through its hold."
"That doesn't sound possible. Anything can be broken."
"Not this. There might be another way, however. There's probably a book with some of Vaermina's rituals written in it. If we can find it, we could probably send you into the Dreamstride."
"The what?"
"The Dreamstride is a state where the participant will partake in an event that happened in time. You would still be yourself but you would live the life of another individual. I don't know how it works, but it might help you open the gate."
"You seem to know an awful lot about this place."
"I guess there's no point in hiding it anymore. Before I was a Priest of Mara I was a member of this very cult. I ran before the attack and joined the Priesthood to atone for my sins. Now I have that opportunity."
Jornada smiled wickedly. "Then we'd better find that Dreamstride ritual."
"The library is upstairs here. We can search for it and clear out any resistance. Let's go."*
Meanwhile, along the eastern part of Skyrim, the clouds above the Dwarven ruin of Mzulft seemed to part as a sound of lightning struck the air. Stryger and Brelyna found themselves laughing as they descended and softly rolled along the grassy plain they landed at nearby. The first time Stryger had demonstrated his teleportation spell, Brelyna had been frightened by the effects of the spell. Now, however, she found herself used to the effects the third time they used it.
Stryger stood up and stretched his hand towards her. "You're enjoying that spell now, aren't you?"
"You're going to have to teach me that spell one day." Brelyna grabbed his hand and had him pull her up.
"I promise I will, but first you might have to get some of your other spells down." Stryger joked.
"Shut up." Brelyna smacked him playfully. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood."
"Teleportation is fun, isn't it?"
"Too much fun."
They continued to laugh as they walked the last short distance to Mzulft's entrance, but Stryger stopped when he heard the sound of swords clanging. Unaware of where it was coming from he stopped laughing and looked around. Brelyna only realized a few moments later that Stryger was alert of an unseen threat, and so she quieted herself and looked around. The clanging only seemed to get louder, and soon enough Stryger was sprinting towards the road.
Sure enough, the sight of two Orcs battling two Nord bandits caught their attention. An Orc in heavy armor was facing off against a marauder. This Orc wielded a battleaxe of Orcish craftsmanship. The other Orc was using his smaller war axe against a bandit leader wielding a steel longsword. The heavier armored Orc was winning his battle, but the other Orc was struggling against his attacker's longer blade. He tried to lock his axe around the blade in an attempt to throw the offending blade farther away from his body.
Instead, the bandit managed to break the attack, slicing the hand off of the Orc's arm.
The Orc screamed in pure agony as his hand fell to the earth, blood seeping from the stump that remained. He fell to his knees in defeat, disarmed in every sense of the word. The leader smiled as he readied his blade high in the air and ready to strike the final death blow.
A bolt of lightning struck the back of his head.
The leader turned around to see Stryger ready for a fight with fire rising around his hands. Enraged the leader left his defenseless target for this new challenger, hoping to strike the unarmored mage down before he could cast another spell. Stryger took the time between them to charge up a fireball spell in both of his hands, sending the spell straight into his enemy's chest. The leader was pushed back as flames engulfed him, burning away at his flesh and his clothes. Only a charred remnant of a living person remained.
The Orc in heavy armor sunk his axe deep into his opponent, only paying attention to the cries of his comrade once the marauder lay on the ground dead. He threw his weapon onto his back before crouching down next to his friend. Stryger and Brelyna came over to offer assistance to the dismembered warrior, but his friend was rather defensive about it.
"Stay back, outlanders!" He spat. "Only blood-kin treat the wounded, and you are not blood-kin."
"No, but I'm a healer." Stryger said confidently.
"We don't need your magic, healer."
"Look at your friend's hand, Orc. A potion isn't going to heal that back together. Just let me help out your friend so he can use both his hands again, and then we'll be on our way."
The Orc seemed disapproving, but eventually he gave in. "Fine, but no funny business, mage."
Stryger crouched down and picked up the dismembered hand from the ground. The blade had cut clean through from the wrist, which mean that even a regular mage could repair the damage if they used every ounce of their magicka. But Stryger's gift made it so that he could heal injuries like that without depleting his magicka, meaning that he would be prepared for anything. He reached into his satchel for a soul gem and-
Looking at the gem, he realized it was empty.
"Brelyna, did you happen to pack any filled soul gems?"
"No, I couldn't find any. Just the empty ones next to your bed."
Shit. Stryger thought. He knew he should have brought some soul gems with him to Saarthal. Draugrs were a perfect source for replenishing soul gems, but since he forgot to bring some he was left unprepared for a scenario like this.
That meant he had to draw the energy required to use his gift from the source.
"Hold his hand next to the wound, Brelyna." Stryger commanded. Brelyna wasted no time as she propped herself next to the wounded Orc and held his hand directly at the wound. Blood continued to drip from the loss of said hand but Stryger's spell would stop that soon enough. Everyone stared in confusion as Stryger seemed to hum to himself, rubbing his hands together before bringing them on the sides of the hand.
A faint white glow began to form between his hands.
Soon enough, a sphere of strange white energy appeared, swarming around the Orc's wounds. The Orc seemed to scream louder to the stimulus, but Brelyna was unsure why. However, as she continued to stare at the sphere, she could see muscle tissue reforming between the points severed. The skin began to reform, and the hand was pulled back together completely. Any signs of the dismemberment had been completely erased, and the Orc had ceased his pained cries, instead huffing and puffing in confusion.
Brelyna looked towards Stryger to realize he himself was glowing with the white energy he had used to heal the Orc, almost completely still and ignoring the stares he was being given. His eyes, usually an unmistakable yellow, were completely white and lifeless, before his eyelids fell shut. Stryger then collapsed unconscious onto the road, leaving everyone confused and in panic after the miracle he had performed.
A miracle that hasn't been seen in Tamriel for thousands of years.
*Back at Nightcaller Temple, Jornada looked around through the old books of the library, stepping around the corpses of orcs and priests. Most of the books had either been burned or decayed, meaning they had little to no value to Jornada. Maybe a cultist had thrown a rogue fireball spell or an orc set a torch onto the books, but it wasn't really her concern at all. What was her concern at the moment was figuring out which book had the formula for the Dreamstride.
Sure enough, a lone book was in the corner on the upper floor of the library.
There was a large gap where the floor had collapsed from, but Jornada managed to jump over it with a single leap. She grabbed the book and examined it. It definitely had to have been what they were looking for, since it was designed in a very peculiar way not used for many books. She jumped down right in front of Erandur, startling the priest.
"This what you're looking for?" Jornada said indifferently.
"Yes." He mentioned once he recognized the book. Erandur quickly flipped through a few pages and found what he was looking for. "Here. The Dreamstride is actually rather easy to make. We just need all of the ingredients from the alchemy lab. However, if we're lucky there will already be a bottle ready for us in the lab."
"Then let's get moving. We don't the people of Dawnstar crapping themselves in the middle of the night anymore, right?" Jornada walked past Erandur, not paying any attention to the disapproving stares of Erandur, who likely started to suspect that Jornada was likely not who she seemed to be.*
The air became cooler as Zacharius and Lydia came up to Morthal. It was the closest town to Jurgen Windcaller's tomb, and night was preparing to fall upon them. The traveling caravan was kind enough to get them this far, though, so they were glad trip wouldn't take them as long.
"Perhaps we should get some horses." Lydia finally decided to say.
"Soon, perhaps, once we save up some gold." Zacharius agreed. "For now, though, walking is fine enough. But once I start finding all of these other people that will help me defeat Alduin, we'll need to carry more equipment, which means we'll need horses then." They walked into Morthal to notice a small group of townsfolk gathering around who appeared to be the steward.
"What is the Jarl going to do?!" One of the folks yelled.
"Jarl Idgrod is investigating everything. Return to your homes."
The group seemed to disperse, grumbling about a wizard and the recent problems Morthal has been having. This caught Zacharius's ear.
"Sounds like Morthal has problems. Think we can solve them?"
"I just follow your lead, my Thane."
"I know, and that's why I ask for your opinion. I want you to say when you think something's a bad idea. It let's me try to be smart about what I do."
Lydia thought for a moment. "If you want to investigate, I'm all up for it. Helping out people usually leads to excellent rewards."
"Okay then." Zacharius headed up to the Jarl's cabin. In the smaller holds, they apparently held wooden cabins for their rulers rather than the bigger cities. It was much different from life in Cyrodiil. He had lived in a castle for his whole life that had been passed on to his family for about six generations, ever since Caleb Secus left the castle in his ancestor's name. But looking at Morthal made him a bit homesick. One day he had to return home to visit his family, but that would have to be after the Thalmor were removed from the Empire for good.
He opened the door and walked inside to a small warm throne room. A large fire pit was in the center, and further beyond sat the Jarl. She was a woman around her fifties from first glance. Her glance fell from the fire to the strange man dressed in armor of a brigand. Zacharius walked up to her.
"Your ladyship, I am-"
"I know who you are." The Jarl interrupted. "You have travelled far from your home in Cyrodiil, Zacharius Morrigan. Skyrim called out to you to return to the home of your ancestors. I know of how you alone hold a destiny greater than everyone that fights in this war. But the question is how much of your destiny are you willing to accept?"
"I am willing to accept everything that my destiny holds."
"Are you? So much I have seen just by looking upon you. You will be tested in fire and pain before your destiny is due. Try to remember that, young man. Now, what can I do for you?"
"I think the better question is what can I do for your people. My arrival showed that there appears to be some kind of problem."
"There are rumors that one of our townsfolk set fire to his home, killing his wife and daughter. To add to their suspicions, Hroggar has moved into Alva's house, leading them to believe that they were lovers and had planned this out. If you could investigate this and discover the truth, I would reward you."
Zacharius bowed. "I'd be honored. Putting the town's worries to rest may help set everyone's mind at ease."
"Then the first place you should investigate is the remains of Hroggar's house. Find any evidence that links him or clears his name and report to me."
Zacharius nodded before departing out the door. Lydia followed obediently behind him, never faltering from her duty. They walked along the pathway to the remains of an old house. The burn marks indicate that the fire must have started a few days ago, and snow had started to settle inside on the hard stone floor. The fireplace was the only thing still standing; no furniture stood out, no food or clothing, not even a single straw remained. If there were bodies after the incident they were gone, likely burned and charred by the flames.
"To think that someone would set fire to a home, while a family is still in it." Zacharius whispered, crouching down to examine some of the rubble. There didn't seem to be a clue lying around about the cause of the fire, so Zacharius turned to look somewhere else.
He was then face to face with a ghost.
It was a girl, probably nine or ten years old. Despite her ghostly form, she was smiling at him. Zacharius was curious about this, but turned his eyes away a bit to see Lydia almost jump. She reached for her sword, but Zacharius motioned for her to stop, notifying her that the ghost wasn't going to harm them. He turned to face the ghost girl again.
"Hello, mister." The girl spoke.
"Hello." Zacharius spoke kindly. "Who are you?"
"I'm Helgi."
"What happened here?"
"I don't remember much. I remember that the house was on fire. I was trapped, it was very hot, but I'm cold now."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
"You were just so young. Now you'll never know what it's like to grow up."
"What are you doing here?"
"Well, the people of the village believe that your father started the fire that destroyed your house. I'm here to find out the truth. Is there anything else you can tell me?"
"I might know more, but I'll tell you if you play a game with me. But we have to wait until night. That's when the nice lady comes out."
Zacharius raised an eyebrow. "Who is the nice lady?"
"She's a friend. You'll know her when you see her. See you tonight."
Before Zacharius could ask any more questions, Helgi disappeared.
"So," Lydia started. "I've never seen anything quite like that."
"What, a friendly ghost?"
"Just ghosts in general."
"They're not so different from draugr. They are just more docile and don't have flesh. Some ghosts still attack on sight, but not all of them will do that." Zacharius stood up. "I'm a bit concerned with this nice lady, but I have to bet that she might have a piece to this puzzle. Come on, we're done with this place."
"You met a spirit of a young girl? That must have been painful."
"It was, Ronan. It's heartbreaking when a parent loses a child, and that moment did affect me during my search for answers. But during all of that, my family was actually preparing for an adventure that I unfortunately missed out on because of my duty as Dragonborn."
*Within the providence of Cyrodiil, two young aspiring adventurers by the name of Treyvar and Xaverius Morrigan walked along the path from Chorrol after selling more of their spoils of war. Treyvar was a traveling spellsword wearing robes of black and red combined with Daedric armor pieces that added to his defense. Xaverius was a talented blacksmith that wore Dwarven armor he forged with his own hands at the Dwemer forge outside of the keep. Both of these siblings were the younger brothers of Zacharius Morrigan, a brilliant young man that turned down a position in the Legion for a life of adventure. The two of them were still unsure as to why he left Cyrodiil, as their parents wouldn't say anything to them.
"So," Treyvar began, rubbing his short brown hair from within his hood. "I suspect you and Carlotta do plan on moving out of the keep soon, right?"
"What, so I can leave you alone with all of Secus's priceless treasures?" Xaverius huffed, scratching his beard. "Zacharius would kill you if you tried touching the armor of the Champion again."
"What? You know I like the way it looks. That armor was worn by the man he idolizes, and he was just so obsessed with everything. All he does is look at it. LOOK at it! You'd think he'd pick the lock and wear the Kvatch Cuirass just to feel special, but he doesn't even do that!"
"That stuff is two-hundred years old. Trying to wear it would only get it broken in the end."
"But you're a blacksmith. Not just any blacksmith, but the best blacksmith in all of Cyrodiil! You made yourself a legendary Dwarven armor set and a battleaxe to match it out of old Dwarven plates. Plates!"
"Yeah, and if the armor from those mannequins and cases was ever broken, mom and dad will automatically know it was me. Sorry, but I think I'd prefer to live with my bride rather than die because you broke something Zacharius admires."
Treyvar snickered at that last comment. When Xaverius had introduced Carlotta to the family, he couldn't help but laugh at the fact that Xaverius, being the misunderstood giant of a Nord that he was, found himself a bride before the eldest prodigy that was their older brother. Carlotta was a kind woman, and while she wasn't at the same bodily figure as some of the girls at the courts Xaverius never had his mind on that fact. Instead, he showed that all someone needed was a kind heart and loving personality. It's been told by their father that their ancestor Evangela Morrigan, who was in a relationship with Caleb Secus until his disappearance, was a strong and hardy Nord woman, and Carlotta seemed to reflect that.
The top of Battlehorn Castle could be seen from their point of view, and Treyvar immediately had the instinct to shove his younger brother before breaking into a sprint. "Race you to the gates!"
"Oh, you hobknocker!" Xaverius scowled before running after his light-on-his-feet brother. Despite his heavier armor, Xaverius was well conditioned and managed to catch up to his brother just as they were about to reach the gate. They were panting and sweating while waiting for the gatekeeper to come let them in.
"You... Cheated... Milk drinker... Whoo." Xaverius tried to speak.
"You caught up to me, though." Treyvar retorted, cracking a smile. "So relax, you big baby."
Soon enough, the gatekeeper approached in the armor of Battlehorn's security force. "By the Eight, gents. Why are you out of breath? You look like you ran from an angry cave bear."
"Since when do we run away, Patsy?" Treyvar smiled, standing straight. "Xaverius and I just had a little race. Please open the gate. We wish to see mother and father."
"Of course. They just returned from the Imperial City about an hour ago. They'll be glad to see you, chaps. Oh, and a friend of yours arrived around the same time. Lady Carlotta has entertained him with tea while you were away."
Xaverius stood up straight. "That's my woman, all right."
Patsy opened the gate and allowed the two of them to enter, closing it behind them and returning to his patrol. Treyvar and Xaverius opened the doors into the Castle's main hall, noticing how empty it was at the moment. The two brothers looked at each other before Xaverius stepped forward, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"HELLLLOOOOO, LEGIONAIRES!"
Immediately after that the doors on the upper level were opened and the footsteps of Legion boots could be heard tapping across the floor. Soon after their father Willhem stopped at the top of the balcony, looking down at his other two sons. He still wore the heavy rainments his title of Legate offered him, and the scar across his left eye was still noticeable. His short hair was graying from years of his life, giving off the wisdom he held towards Legion tactics and diplomacy. His brown eyes looked down right at Xaverius's blue ones.
"Xaverius, remember that you are supposed to use your inside voice when you are in the castle."
"I know, sir, but I wanted to give a warm welcome after we had returned from our trip."
"That warm welcome of yours scared your mother, and your wife."
"Sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
Willhem walked down the stairs and stopped in front of his youngest son, who stood at about his height. His face will still serious and Xaverius was holding his breath. His father was all about discipline and if the meeting he had just come back from was bad it meant he might get an order to pull off some pointless exercise to make him not do it again. Treyvar was trying hard not to crack a smile, eager to see their father's reaction.
Instead, Willhem immediately wrapped his arms around Xaverius, laughing at how he got his son nervous. Xaverius relaxed and even laughed with him, wrapping his arms around his father's back. Treyvar released his smile and even joined in on the laughing.
"It's wonderful to see you guys back." Willhem released his hold on Xaverius before hugging Treyvar. "We were worried something happened to you boys."
"No need to worry." Treyvar laughed. "You trained us like we were soldiers. We could handle everything we ran into on our adventure."
"Which was quite a lot. We even had to pick a lock on a door. It was very hard."
Xaverius coughed to get their attention. "What he means to say is that I picked the lock while he stared at himself in the mirror. Zacharius would have had less trouble with it than I did."
Willhem laughed. "I'm sure it's quite a story. Come upstairs and you can tell the family about it." Willhem walked back up the stairs with his sons behind him, leading them to the master bedroom. That probably meant there was not enough guests for the dining hall at the moment. Xaverius knew there was enough space to hold a few people and dine in peace, but they rarely went into their parents' bedroom.
Once they had gone inside, however, they caught the smell of sweet rolls and tea. Their mother Jennette was talking to the merchant Tarius, who they had done business with in the past. Carlotta was standing above Jennette, smiling as she saw Xaverius enter.
"I thought I heard that rugged voice of yours." Carlotta walked up to her husband, who laughed as she approached before his strong hands grasped her waist and hoisted her into the air. Treyvar watched as Xaverius spun his wife in the air, bringing her down to earth in a passionate kiss.
Treyvar rolled his eyes before speaking. "Okay, lovebirds. Get a room."
Willhem laughed before he sat next to his wife. "Reminds me of when we got married. Gods, it's been years since Zacharius was born. I feel so old."
"You are old, but you're still my husband." Jennette rested her hand on his own, locking fingers before they went in for a kiss. When they were finished, Jennette looked towards her children. "So, how was your latest adventure?"
Treyvar spoke first. "Excellent. We went to the ruins of Fort Entius and explored the caves. A couple of bandits and conjurers had occupied the place, so we did the civil thing and cleared them out. Any loot we didn't need we sold back in Chorrol."
"Sounds wonderful."
"What about you guys? Anything interesting happen during your meetings in the Imperial City?"
Jennette and Willhem looked at each other for a moment before turning back towards their sons. "The Legion is still concerned with the war in Skyrim. It is said the Emperor is getting frustrated and General Tulius has requested reinforcements."
Willhem cleared his throat. "I was asked to take some troops to Skyrim, but I refused."
"Why?" Xaverius asked.
"Because I'm not going to risk my life in our ancestor's homeland. Skyrim needs to sort its problems out, and I will not be a part of that."
Treyvar crossed his arms, frowning. "There's more to it than that, is there? Is it Zacharius? Did he join the Stormcloaks?"
"No, or at least I don't think so. He is in Skyrim, however. Tarius confirmed he had made it to the hold of Whiterun, although he did experience trouble crossing the border."
"Why is he there?"
"It's better if we don't say-"
"Willhem, be honest with your sons." Jennette interrupted.
"I thought we agreed not to say anything."
"Well the presence of the Inquisitor changed things."
Treyvar and Xaverius nearly jolted as they heard that name. "The Inquisitor? What's going on?"
Willhem sighed. "While we were in the city, your mother had been interrogated by the Thalmor Inquisitor. He's pursuing Zacharius on charges of Talos worship, conspiracy, and withholding knowledge from the Emperor."
"Did that pointy-eared bastard hurt her?"
"He didn't have reason or cause to." Jennette spoke. "The Inquisitor is after your grandfather's journal, as it contains a prophecy your brother has a role in. I told him the truth and he released me, likely because he wished to avoid a diplomatic incident. My voice on the Council is invaluable, after all."
Xaverius stepped forward. "So you set that bastard on our brother's trail?! What were you thinking?!"
"I know that you are angry, but Zacharius is a grown man that has learned to take care of himself. He will be all right, as long as he finds the allies he can call upon. Right now, you should only concern yourselves. If the Thalmor see it necessary, they might go after you two to get to Zacharius."
Treyvar cracked his knuckles. "I'd like to see them try."
Willhem stood up. "This isn't a death-or-glory matter. We are trying to warn you to be careful, stay vigilant, and make sure that you are prepared to leave if it should come to that. Our positions protect us, but they can only protect the two of you for so long. Promise me that you will make preparations to leave if the need arises."
Xaverius huffed. "Carlotta and I need our own place, anyways. We will try looking for a new location to settle in. Perhaps if we really need to, we could go to Skyrim. Despite the war, it would be a good place to hide should the Thalmor come after us."
Tarius stood up from his own chair, reaching into his satchel. "Before you guys make those plans, I think I found something that would interest the two of you." He pulled out a small journal that's cover had some wear and tear. "As you all know, one of the many artifacts of Caleb Secus that you do not possess is his armor and weapons from his time with the Blades. While this journal states his armor was moved to Skyrim during the seige of Cloud Ruler Temple, it also states his katana was hidden within Cyrodiil. Although there was one problem: the blade was broken into three parts."
"Why was it broken?"
"It appears it had fallen from Aetherius on what the Blades believed was the day Caleb Secus truly died. When it had collided with the grounds of Cloud Ruler Temple, the blade had snapped off of the handle and had broken in two. It was a magical katana and none of the Blades believed it would be a good thing to try and repair it. So they kept all three pieces separate, and used that advantage to hide it from the Thalmor. According to the journal my sources managed to acquire, the owner was responsible of transporting all the pieces to specific locations that Caleb interacted with. It appears the handle was hidden in Sancre Tor, the same location as the armor of Tiber Septum during Caleb's quest to stop the gates of Oblivion. One part of the blade is hidden in the location where the Mythic Dawn cult once resided, Lake Arrius Caverns, and the final part is buried somewhere on his family's farmstead near the Imperial City. It has long since been abandoned, so you might be able to search that area without any trouble. The ruins of Sancre Tor are likely haunted or occupied by bandits, so be prepared if you go there."
"And Lake Arrius Caverns?"
"Last I had heard, the Legion was guarding it for some odd reason. You might be allowed to just go in if you mention your father, but be prepared if it isn't Legion, or if they've been overrun by another threat."
Treyvar laughed. "You're always this optimistic, Tarius?"
"Only when it comes to your family. You're always intentionally trying to get in trouble."
"Well that sounds like an adventure that can wait until tomorrow. What do you say we depart for the dining room for supper."
"Not until you two dress in regular clothes." Jennette scolded. "I swear, almost every night for the past month, you've been wearing nothing but your armor at the dinner table."
"Hey, I'm a traveling spellsword. I like to make sure my mage armor is equipped in case we run into a situation."
"What kind of situation are you going to run into inside our own home?"
Treyvar opened his mouth to speak, but his brother pushed him before speaking himself. "Treyvar and I will dress in regular attire real quick. Don't worry, mother."
She looked at them seriously for a moment before they departed. As they closed the door Treyvar began to look excited. "Zacharius is going to be jealous when he finds out we reforged the katana of Caleb Secus. I can already imagine myself holding it in my hands as I-"
"Hold up. Who said anything about using it once we've repaired it?"
"Well, it's a katana designed by those snake folk from across the continents."
"And how do you know the Akaviri were snake folk?"
"Because of the books, duh. They came to conquer but were pushed out, and only focus on other things now. We got some of their cool shit, and now we're going to kick ass with one of the best katanas of all time."
"I'm already imagining Zacharius scolding you for claiming you're going to wield it when we put it back together."
Treyvar and Xaverius merely laughed as they closed the doors to their respective rooms to change into clothes.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Soooooooooooooooo...
I know it's been a while, guys. Writer's block, school, and other games like Dragon Age have occupied most of my time. But I'm going to try and get back into this, just like I'm trying to get back into my Mass Effect story eventually. And my Assassin's Creed story. And Halo. You get it.
Anyways, though, I also now have a Twitter account that I will keep updated on things like my personal life, project updates, and just normal things you'd see. Look me up on Twitter BlueSpartan107 to be kept up-to-date on any of my latest news.