Chapter 23: No Rest For the Weary

"So, you said there was a new antagonist moving his pieces on the board," Ronan stated. "but how many people were after you guys back then?"

"We had Alduin to slay and the Inquisitor to outrun, but my associates also had their own enemies to deal with. Stryger dealt with Ancano the morning after he had defeated Morokei, and Errick would eventually duel Mercer Frey for reasons that will be revealed to you soon enough. Akira would contend with the whole Silver Hand organization after her fight with the Glenmoril Witches, and Scarlai would make an enemy unworthy of facing him. This new antagonist, however... He was a terrifying force of nature; one who bowed to the whims of the Necromancer. When we faced him together we almost didn't stand a chance."

"So how did you defeat him?"

"In truth, we didn't." Zacharius sighed. "But here I go, getting ahead of myself again. I was just about to discuss our morning after, where Stryger had regained consciousness and I had a mission ready to slay a dragon."

Stryger shot up in a moment of clarity, almost ready to punch someone hovering over him. Brelyna jumped back and Stryger paused, realizing his mistake. Embarrassed, the Altmer dropped his fist and turned away.

"Sorry." His response was sheepish.

"It's okay."

"What happened last night, after that whole Dragonborn thing?"

"You passed out. J'zargo set up camp and we kept an eye out for you. Nothing came up here to disturb us."

"Good." Stryger slowly began to raise himself up, stopping when he started to hear chanting in his ears. "Do you hear that?"

Brelyna looked puzzled. "What?"

"I hear some chanting. It's close." Stryger continued to stand and looked around his surroundings. The skeleton of the dragon still bore the ice covered by the word Stryger spoke, reminding the young Altmer that he was definitely blessed with more gifts than he had first realized. His eyes darted to the right of the dragon, where another wall like the one in Labyrinthian stood. There were words of the Dragon tongue carved into the old stone. Stryger attempted to make sense of the words, but he could only make out a few of the words. It seems the Dragon he slew was right: he only needed to absorb his soul to get a better understanding of the language. There was one word in particular, however, that radiated power. Stryger only had to take two steps forward before that power seeped into him.

"FO!"

A word echoed in Stryger's mind that gave him the chills. It was like the Ice Form shout but not as cold; just cold enough to make his blood lose some of its warmth. When the magic wore off he felt his body temperature return to normal.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Just a little cold is all." Stryger joked.

"This Dragonborn thing; does it bother you?"

"A bit. But at the same time, I'm excited." Stryger turned to face Brelyna. "It's a gateway to a magic I had little to no knowledge on. After the college is safe, I think I'll go exploring to find out more about this language of the Dragons. And if there are others like me, it might be best to try and find them. Maybe they know more about this than I do." Stryger smiled before turning towards Onmund and J'zargo, who were slowly starting to wake up from their long, cold rests.

"Did it suddenly just get colder?" J'zargo asked.

"Sure feels like it," Onmund admitted. He looked up towards Stryger, surprised that the elf awoke before him. "Stryger! Are you feeling better?"

"Better than I have been, actually." Stryger smiled. "I guess a good night's rest was all I needed."

"Good. I was afraid we'd have to save the college without you."

"Not on your life, you wouldn't." Stryger looked down to his bedroll and saw the mask of Morokei, sitting beside his pack. The grey mask continued to radiate its magical properties even while not worn by someone and Stryger reached down to grab it. "Today, we'll take back the College and stop Ancano from destroying the world. And once that's done, the victory breakfast is on me!"

"I'll drink to that!" J'zargo cheered as he stood up.

Stryger slipped the mask back on, determined to win this fight. "Now then, let's get to it."

Back in Riften Isobel found herself waking up alone in Errick's bed, still naked from their coupling last night. The young woman stretched her arms out, feeling relief from the release of her sexual frustration. The house itself was very quiet; the only sounds she could hear were from the fireplace, keeping the house warm from the cold dawn that was no doubt looming over the city. Isobel found herself turning to the nightstand, seeing a bottle and a note written by Errick. She groggily reached for the note while blinking her eyes, trying to remove any notion to try and fall asleep in the bed and sleep until the afternoon. When the note was in her face, she saw it read the following:

-Isobel,

I'll be outside. Drink the contents of the bottle to make sure there won't be two bastards between you and Brynjolf. And destroy the note when you're done reading it.

E-

Isobel smirked before lighting the note on fire. watching as the paper crumbled while it slowly turned to ash. The ashes gathered into a pile on the floor before the bed, and Isobel had no intention of cleaning up her mess. She grabbed the bottle and uncorked it, drinking down its contents willingly. The morning after potion tasted terrible, but if it meant that she didn't have to carry Errick's little spawn for even a week she would swallow just about anything. She stood from the bed and saw that her clothes were neatly set on the bed for her. Isobel smirked and shook her head before proceeding to dress.

Well, glad to see Errick wasn't exaggerating at all. Isobel thought, heading to the balcony door to see if he was there. Sure enough, when she walked through the door she could hear Errick making gurgling noises before spitting out some form of liquid.

"Do you always prefer to gurgle fluids in the morning?" Isobel joked, getting Errick's attention.

"I'll have you know, Isobel, that I take my oral hygiene very seriously. After all, we wouldn't want the guild getting suspicious about our little 'misadventure' last night."

"Is that what you're gonna call it?" Isobel smirked, setting herself next to the ledge with Errick. "You were incredible, by the way. Maybe not the best, but definitely worthy of the praise you give yourself."

Errick smirked at her, his eyes looking at her intently. "I told you I'm the best at what I do. Are you feeling better?"

"Very much."

"Good. Then my job is done."

"So you're saying this was a one-time thing?"

"That's up to you. If you want us to continue this misadventure for a while, we can. If not, then we can keep working together like normal partners in crime."

"All right."

Errick looked at Isobel as she turned towards the sunrise. The rays of sunlight beamed onto her, bringing out some of her more attractive features. Despite the fact that Isobel had spent so much time hiding her natural beauty to fit in with the guilds, Errick could still see glimpses of a beautiful woman. If her path had been different and had she been born a royal instead of a commoner, he probably would have seen her in some court attendance he was about to rob.

Suddenly Errick felt a bit sad.

Isobel turned back and faced the thief, noticing something was wrong. He wasn't giving off some shit grin or beaming with positivity. Instead, he looked as if he had just lost his puppy. "What's wrong?"

Errick noticed her staring and immediately tried to cover up his moment of weakness. "Nothing. Just feeling a bit nostalgic." He turned away from her, refusing to look her in the eye. "Brynjolf was right about something last night, you know."

Isobel cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"You do deserve better."

Isobel frowned. "What? You're saying that I'm too good for Brynjolf?"

"No, I mean you deserve better than everything life has given you. What Brynjolf is wrong about, however, is that he isn't good enough for you. Because honestly, even I think you two would be good together." He put his arm on her shoulder. "If you two somehow manage to get together, in the end, I say you two should spend the rest of your lives together. It's what the two of you deserve."

"And what do you deserve?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, you're telling me what I deserve in life, but what about you? What do you think you deserve?"

Errick remained silent.

"You don't know what you deserve? Or are you just not going to tell me?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Because - 'ding dong' - Oh! I think Thrynn is here!" Errick immediately ran inside, confusing Isobel.

"Ding dong?" She asked herself. "What does that even mean?" She grunted at Errick's shutdown of her question, deciding to follow him and see if he was trying to run away. As it turns out, however, Thrynn was actually at the front door, armed and ready to travel with them.

"Thrynn!" Errick said excitedly. "So good of you to drop by!"

Thrynn looked at his fellow thief confused. "Uh, yes. What's up with you?"

"Just energized and ready to go!" Errick giggled.

"Riigghht. Anyways, why did you want me to come along with you?"

"Well, as an ex-bandit I'd figure you would know all of the safer routes to Solitude. Plus, if I were to suddenly get ambushed, we would have a fairer advantage against whoever may be out there to fight us."

"So you just want a bodyguard?"

"Well, there is another reason why I'm bringing both you and Isobel along."

"Which is?"

"Let's just call it a feeling that I might be occupied once I'm in Solitude."

"Why do you think you'll be occupied once we're in Solitude?" Isobel asked.

"As I said, it's just a feeling. So having two extra thieves around to help me just in case will be useful. Now, are we ready to depart? The sooner we get to Solitude, the better."

Isobel looked at Errick, noticing his hesitation. It was as if he was afraid of something that might be either coming to or already in Solitude. First his refusal to answer her question, and now this. Something was bothering him, but he wasn't willing to say what it was. "All right, Errick." Isobel finally submitted. "Let's head off to Solitude."

As Errick and Isobel departed with Thrynn to Solitude, Zacharius found himself being stirred awake by a nightmare. It was a strange nightmare and he couldn't remember much, but what he could remember was a pair of blood-red eyes staring right at him. Lydia awoke upon realizing her thane's sudden jolt to consciousness.

"Are you all right, my Thane?" Lydia reached a hand out to touch Zacharius's bare skin, noting the sweat that covered him.

"I'm fine." He replied. "Just a passing nightmare." Zacharius slipped out of the bed and reached out to grab his gear, armoring himself up quickly. When he was done Lydia got up to do the same. As she grabbed her chest piece, a knock at the door caught their attention. The door opened to reveal the innkeeper. Her glare put Zacharius on edge, but he calmed down as soon as she spoke.

"So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about." The innkeeper's voice was calm and commanding.

"That's me," Zacharius responded casually.

"I think you're looking for this." In her hands was an old horn, carved from a beast tusk and worn from age. Zacharius reached out and grabbed the horn, hooking it to his belt.

"Thank you."

"We need to talk. Follow me." The innkeeper walked out of the room and to the other side of the inn. Zacharius turned to face Lydia, seeing that she was still dressing back up for the mission.

"Go ahead and get our stuff ready," Zacharius ordered. "I have a feeling we're going to be busy in a little bit." Lydia nodded and Zacharius closed the door for her, following the innkeeper to her room. He closed the door behind them so that they could talk in private, but then he was caught off guard when she opened her dresser, revealing a secret passageway to a basement chamber. This wasn't something his grandfather had mentioned in the journals.

"Now we can talk." The innkeeper motioned for Zacharius to follow as she descended the stairs. Without delay, the Nord followed his host down to the secret room. The first thing he noticed was the wall adorned with weapons. Two swords, in particular, caught his eye. The first was an Orcish greatsword in the center of the weapon rack. He had little experience with Orcish smithing back in Cyrodiil, even with his brother always hammering metal at the castle forge. Its brutish design made the weapon look terrifying, if not a bit unpractical. The second was a lean, curved steel blade to the left. Something echoed in his mind that he knew of the blade, but he was unsure as to why.

"So, you wanted to talk to me?"

"The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. I'm hoping they're right."

"The Greybeards are right. I am Dragonborn."

"I hope so. But you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so. I just handed you the horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Does that make me Dragonborn, too?"

Zacharius crossed his arms. "Let's cut to the chase. Why did you seek me out?"

"I didn't go through all this trouble on a whim. I did this to make sure that this wasn't a Thalmor trap."

"Hmm. I understand your caution. I too have been attempting to avoid the Thalmor. So, what do you need?"

"Like I said in my note, I heard you might be Dragonborn. I'm part of a group that's been looking for you... well, someone like you, for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn, that is. I need to make sure that I can trust you."

"Why did you go after the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller?"

"I knew the Greybeards would send you there if they thought you were Dragonborn. They are nothing if not predictable. When you showed up here, I knew you were the one the Greybeards sent, and not some Thalmor plant."

"I see. And why are the Thalmor after you?"

"We're very old enemies. And if my suspicions are correct, they might have something to do with the Dragons returning. But that isn't important right now. What is important is that you might be Dragonborn."

"And just why have you been looking for a Dragonborn?"

"We remember what most don't - that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragon slayer. You're the only one that can kill a dragon by devouring its soul. Can you do it? Can you devour a dragon's soul?"

"Yes. That's how I figured out I was Dragonborn in the first place."

"Good. And you'll have a chance to prove it to me soon enough."

"So what's the part you aren't telling me that you know?"

"Dragons aren't just coming back. They're coming back to life."

I thought so. Zacharius rubbed his chin, pretending to be surprised. If it wasn't for the knowledge his grandfather had he might have actually been startled by this revelation.

"They weren't gone somewhere for all these years. They were dead; killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. Now, something's happening to bring them back to life. And I need you to help me stop it."

"Anyone else, and they would think that claim sounds crazy."

"Ha." The innkeeper huffed. "A few years ago, I said almost the same thing to a colleague of mine. Well, it turned out he was right, and I was wrong."

"So, what evidence do you have to support your claim?"

"I visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty. And I've figured out where the next one will come back to life. We're going to go there, and we're going to kill that dragon. If we succeed, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"So where are we heading?"

"Kynesgrove. There's an ancient dragon burial mound near there. If we can get there before it happens, maybe we'll learn how to stop it."

"Then we've no time to waste."

"I need to get into my traveling gear. Give me a moment."

"Of course." Zacharius turned back to the weapons on the rack. "But if I may, I would like to borrow a couple of your weapons." He grabbed both the curved blade and the Orcish Greatsword, hooking the long blade to his back. "If we're going to take down a dragon, I want to be armed with the best equipment."

"Fine. I'll meet you upstairs when I'm ready."

"My housecarl and I will be ready when you are." Zacharius exited the secret room, knowing full-well what to expect ahead. I pray that this challenge will be one I can handle on my own.

*Back within the mountain ranges, The Hunter found himself being stirred from his own rest. As he opened his eyes, he saw a man in the armor of a Vagabond. Immediately, The Hunter jumped into action, grabbing his axe in an attempt to defend himself. But as soon as his arm has raised a sword was placed at his throat. He figured it was the end until he heard a familiar voice.

"You're getting slow, my apprentice."

The Hunter found himself relax and lower his weapon. "Apologies. I guess I got concussed far worse than I had originally anticipated, Mister Key."

The man named Mister Key sheathed the sword in his hand and held out his other hand to bring his apprentice up. The Hunter accepted the man's help up and pulled himself up from his bedroll. "You must always be careful when confronting The Stranger; ever more so with Jornada. Their battles have always brought havoc to those around them. A lot of good people who are meant to exist die when they're around."

"And their strength is not exaggerated."

"Precisely. But now we may have a bigger problem on our hands."

"What is it?"

"My superiors are having second thoughts about your ability to protect this land from The Stranger and Jornada. If they aren't convinced they are going to send some of their own men to defeat them."

"No." The Hunter's words echoed with anger. "I can deal with this myself."

"That's what I told them, but they still aren't convinced. So," Mister Key unclipped the sword from his belt, holding it out to The Hunter. "I got you a weapon that may prove effective in your hunt."

"I don't need weapons from another world to defeat them."

"You misunderstand. This isn't some sword we plucked from an alternate reality. This is a sword of your world."

The Hunter took the sword, looking at the sheath's design. Upon noticing the unique pattern near the top of the sheath he felt his chest area, realizing that the pattern matched that of the Savior's Hide. "Is this-"

"Lupus. The Sword of Hiricine. I thought it fitting for you to wield this."

"Where did you get it?"

"A warrior spirit by the name of Victor braved the plains of Oblivion to obtain that sword. He believes that The Stranger and Jornada are attempting to obtain Daedric weaponry in order to destroy each other. If that is true, then you must have your own Daedric blade to defeat them. It may be the only way to remove them permanently- not just from your world, but from every reality to exist."

The Hunter looked at the blade once again before strapping it to his own belt. "How much time do I have to prove to them that I am capable of protecting my own world?"

"Forty-eight hours, in your time. Unfortunately, business elsewhere must see me depart. But I know you are worthy to join our ranks, and with that sword, you may yet prove you are ready to help us destroy our old foes."

"Then I must not waste any more time."

"Farewell, Hunter. The next time we speak, we shall hopefully have better news for each other." Mister Key pulled out a key from his pocket and turned around, placing it in a keyhole that could not be seen. As soon as he turned it, a doorway opened, and Mister Key walked in. The Hunter watched as the door closed behind him, before shutting and disappearing from view. As The Hunter looked back at the sword Lupus, he still felt surprised that he was given a wonderful gift such as this. A weapon from a Daedric Lord was a rare thing, indeed, and many warriors had coveted those weapons for centuries. Now he was just given one from his Lord Hiricine.

"I shall prove myself worthy of this blade, and of the honor to protect my home from those abnormalities." The Hunter smiled behind the mask of Otar, knowing that he now would not be able to fail. With his conviction strengthened, he gathered his belongings before heading out, hoping to find any sign of his prey before more foreigners invaded his world.*

As the sun finally rose on the stone city of Markarth Scarlai returned to give his employer the good news. Despite traveling such a long distance back and forth Scarlai felt more energized than ever, noting that the continuous absorption of his targets' blood was reinvigorating him back to his peak condition during his days with the Order of the Red Moon. Back then he could perform feats considered superhuman, such as running as fast as an arrow or leaping up twenty feet. Had he not refrained from absorbing the blood of others for so long he might have exceeded those feats long ago.

But if he had, what would his life have been like then?

Eternity is boring if there is no one to spend it with. Scarlai thought, knowing full well why he hadn't continued to absorb blood for his 150-year exile to Skyrim. Pushing these lingering thoughts aside, he entered the bar once again and headed to Muiri's room. As he closed the door behind him, the young woman turned and saw that he had appeared. She was taken aback again, but only for a moment.

"So have you done it? Is Alain-"

"Dead," Scarlai noted; no emotion in his words. "He and his associates will trouble no one else."

"Then it is over. Thank you. I've already heard the news of Nilsine's passing. I thank you." Muiri stood from her chair and held out a pouch of gold, as well as a silver ring. Scarlai took these gifts from his contractor, examining the ring more closely. It was a silver ring, but he could feel the enchantment humming from the ring itself. It seemed to make his thumb turn a hue of green for only a second. Scarlai smiled at this realization: the ring was meant to help those performing alchemy to make the strongest potions they could. "Your payment, as promised, as well as this token of my affection."

"Thank you."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business I need to attend to."

"Of course. I must attend to my own business, as well. May our paths not cross on negative circumstance." Scarlai departed from her room and headed once again for the exit, intent on getting back to the Sanctuary and discovering more about this journal on Evan Secus. And something about the journal itself was giving him a vibe that something important was about to happen.

Best I prepare myself for that.

*The ruins of Cracked Tusk keep stood before Jornada. Deep within, she knew that the prize she sought; the blade fragments of Mehrunes Razor, was locked away in a trapped vault. There were a number of Orc hunters and bandits between her and her goal. As true as it was that she could go through them by herself, she didn't feel like slaying these vile creatures. Where was the fun in that if every creature in this world fell to her in an instant?

The sound of a portal opening caught her attention.

She turned to face another of her kind, dressed in the Daedric attire that was a custom of the Dremora of Oblivion. His white hair and pale skin pegged him as a demon like her, although his black and red eyes would have revealed that to anyone else. Jornada stepped towards her servant and stroked his cheek, letting her thumb rub over the scar that covered his left eye. When her hand released his face from her touch she reached up to take her own helmet off, revealing her pale face and dark hair.

"My lady," The demon spoke, bowing to his master like the faithful servant he was. "I have come as you have asked."

"Indeed you have, Sparta," Jornada smirked, pulling his face up for a kiss. This action made Sparta tense up, enjoying the loving embrace his master gave him. It was all she ever needed to do to make him obey her. "Now, we have to clear this fort of these pathetic mortals and retrieve the fragments of one of Lord Dagon's coveted blades."

"I shall make these pathetic creatures taste the burn of hellfire."

"No. We must not attract attention. Not only is The Stranger scheming, but there is a man that works for Mister Key. If we use our full power here, we will notify them not only of our plan but of your presence. And if The Stranger finds out you are here-"

"She will come." The malice in Sparta's words over his own eternal foe sent a shiver down Jornada's spine.

"Yes. Dealing with one of them is bad enough, but two? We've already seen what they can do when they decide to work together. I don't want that to happen again."

"Neither do I."

"So limit your power to what this world has to offer. When the time is right, we will not need to hold back."

"Your wish is my command, my lady."

"Good. Now, let us slay these pathetic mortals and claim our prize."

A Daedric helmet spawned around Sparta's head. "Yes, my lady." He reached for his greatsword and charged in, cutting down two hunters before they even noticed he was there. When the others noticed their fallen comrades, it became a slaughter. In a blood fury, the hunters charged the intruder, only to be cut down just as quickly. Sparta cared not for their deaths, for he has killed many already. His very first victim before even becoming a demon was a child he killed before she could be born.

Something he refused to let Jornada know about.

Sparta approached the door to the fort and kicked it open, alerting more of the orcs to his approach. They let out their war cries and ran out, but Sparta was unmoved. He sheathed his greatsword and conjured fire into his hands. Bringing his hands together, he combined the flames and tossed them at his opponents, roasting them in a glorious flame that burned brighter than the morning sun. When the orcs were dead Jornada entered the fort, heading up the stairs to their commander. This orc was armored with more expensive armor and weaponry than his comrades, and he was ready for a fight after all of the commotions downstairs.

"Well now, you certainly look more formidable than your men downstairs," Jornada spoke, a note of sarcasm in her voice. "But that's not saying much."

The leader growled and charged at her, swinging a massive warhammer at her head. Suddenly, the hammer stopped just an inch from her head. The leader looked over and saw that his weapon had been grabbed by the other armored intruder. His weapon was then discarded and his arm grabbed. In an instant, Sparta had broken the leader's arm. The cries from the leader had Sparta laughing sadistically.

"You're right, my lady. He wasn't as formidable as you thought."

Jornada grabbed the leader's throat. "Where's the key to the vault?"

"Fuck off." The leader cursed. "I'm not giving you anything."

"You don't have to, then." Jornada closed her hand down on his neck, snapping the bones and severing the nerves. She dropped the lifeless body on the floor. "Look around. He must have the key somewhere around here."

"I already see it." Sparta stepped over to the bedside table. A large key laid next to some of the other belongings of the former bandit leader.

"Good. Let's get down to that vault and get the shards. Then I'll give you your next assignment."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So... I've been gone a while again.

Let me just apologize once again for stopping for a while. This time it was just about some hardware malfunctions. My tablet charger cable was broken and I haven't made an attempt to get it replaced. But since SpiritofJazz, who writes A Tale of a Nightingale and is the owner of the Isobel character, has returned to writing her own story I decided it was time I did the same. I will also apologize if this chapter isn't to the usual quality of some of my other works. Please bear with me as I try to get back into writing this story. And next chapter will have some good action, with Stryger killing Ancano and Zacharius coming face to face with Alduin once more.

Also, I'll let you guys know that I am working on getting a YouTube series off the ground where I analyze characters from similar genres of something (like video games) and score them to find out a simple question: Who Can Be Called The Best? I already made one episode but that one was taken down due to copyright reasons (and the fact that I sometimes edit videos lazily.) The current episode I'm working on is for Who Can Be Called The Best RPG Dragonslayer, which will see the Dragonborn go head-to-head against the Grey Warden from Dragon Age: Origins, the Arisen from Dragon's Dogma, and the Monster Hunter from Monster Hunter World. If you guys want to help me out with research, be sure to tune into my streams on Twitch (look me up by my name on the site here) and when I stream any of those games you can help me out with information. Also, you can message me over the PM system if you want to give off any points about the Dragonborn's Strength (their raw physical strength, constitution, carry weight, etc.), Speed (how fast they can be), Power (raw magical talent and extra abilities), Intellect (tactics and overall intelligence), Skill, Experience (specifically how many dragons they've killed), Weapons and Equipment, Allies, Rivals and Antagonists, Feats, Weaknesses, and their overall Legacy. And if you've played the other characters' respective games you can pass along info like that, as well. But thank you for looking back into this story. I still have plenty planned out for it so I should really keep working on it.