Chapter CXXXVI – Little Victories
"Alright, so we have a plan?"
Bishop nodded with satisfaction after he finished chewing the last bits of roasted pheasant leg. That very morning Aeyrin woke up in her temporary 'cage' again, just as she had wanted, no matter how much it irked Bishop that he had to lock her up there again.
Another very interesting thing happened because of that though.
He was trying to lock her in there, but it was so much fucking harder to move the lever up with the use of the branch. He tried for a long time, but he couldn't get it. Aeyrin was just watching him, still looking a little wary, but she must have realized what he was doing. She walked towards the center of the lift after a while of his endless struggles. She looked for a spell like she would try to escape her prison, even though the chains wouldn't let her, but then, she did something much more unexpected.
She pulled the lever, locking herself in on her own.
It only reinforced his theories on her behavior. Just like in her true form, she was afraid of getting out, afraid of hurting him, and she wanted to take precautions. Even though her instincts might have been urging her to hunt and kill.
Too bad she didn't remember any of it though. She was so morose, even after all this time, that she had to go through this. Not that he didn't understand. Losing time was frustrating and kind of scary. But still, he did tell her that she was getting much calmer, much less aggressive, but that didn't make her any less disdainful about what she had become.
He would tell her the full scope of what was happening through the nights eventually, but there was no reason to open up those issues right now, not when this was still how she thought of it all. Besides, it was finally time to put everything out of their minds and truly recuperate.
They caught up on some sleep through the morning hours and they headed to the Nightgate Inn right away. As long as they kept the Elder Scroll wrapped tightly in Bishop's cloak, nobody would be the wiser in the inhabited areas. They wanted to regroup, to have a warm bath at the inn, some food Bishop didn't have to bother cooking, and of course, a comfortable bed.
So after the bathing and the dinner, they finally started to discuss their next course of action.
"Yeah, I think so," Aeyrin smiled softly as she finished her own serving of spiced beef. Bishop had surprised her with how easily he included Markarth when he mentioned the plan he had been concocting. Though there were stipulations, of course.
"Fine," he placed his hand on top of her own on the table and brushed his fingers over the onyx and amber ring briefly. Then he gave her a somewhat mischievous grin. "Tell me."
"What? Bishop!" she scoffed as she withdrew her hand promptly and slapped his own with it. She didn't need to repeat the plan like she was repeating what she had learned in her classes at the temple. She didn't want any trouble either!
"You will have that shit ingrained in your brain or we'll have to go back to the rules. You know, those that included me not cooking if you do something reckless or butt into any shit involving the Forsworn," he smirked at her and he only earned a disgruntled sneer in return.
"Fine. We're going to Windhelm in the morning to get healed properly and give Sinderion's research to Quintus," she smirked at him after a spell.
"That's not the part I wanted to hear and you know it," he shook his head, but he couldn't help but grin at her pouting. Besides, he was sure that there would be more rumors running around Markarth, all too tempting for her. They really shouldn't get involved, especially now. It was not only their previous issues that made the Silver-Bloods dangerous. Bishop had sent assassins to Thongvor. He had no idea how that would play out. But they did need to see Calcelmo and also the smiths there. If Bishop's armor was salvageable, the young apprentice there knew how to work it at least.
"We're taking a carriage to Markarth from Windhelm and we're not going to stay for the night there," Aeyrin sighed, mostly because of the situation, rather than the plan itself. This wasn't the same as it had been just a few months ago – it wasn't just about her 'feud' with Thongvor. This was about Bishop now as well, about what happened when the Brotherhood visited Thongvor. The Penitus Agents around Markarth would surely tell them, but still, it was an uncomfortable feeling to be going back. Whatever was happening with the Forsworn issues, was not worth getting tangled in more Brotherhood business. Not worth risking Bishop's safety by overstaying. "We'll be going to Sky Haven Temple before the end of the day to rest there. No matter what."
"Right. No matter what," Bishop nodded. He really hoped that they would just stay holed up in Understone Keep most of the time, safely by Calcelmo's side. And the Penitus Oculatus presence was comforting too. But Markarth was still daunting.
They needed money though. They wouldn't even have enough for the healing and carriage the next day, but they were counting on Quintus's generosity.
Before they could say anything else, they noticed the presence hovering around. The innkeeper had been a bit strange with them the last time they stayed at Nightgate Inn as well. It was all after that fight they had in this place. The man kept lingering around their table, often listening to their conversations. They even had to be a bit more cryptic when they talked, just for their own peace of mind.
He could have been hovering around because he was worried about another scene, ready to kick them out if things started to look heated. But it looked much more like he was actually eager for some drama and entertainment. His inn was almost empty anyway.
They would not provide him with what he wanted though. This was their night to spend in peace after all. The first one after more than a week.
"Another," Bishop nodded at the hovering man, gesturing to his empty tankard. That would occupy the guy. The constant feeling of being watched was annoying. It was the last thing he needed now, when his head got filled again with thoughts of assassins and cunning enemies just waiting to strike.
This night was still better off spent forgetting all of that.
…
Their visit to Windhelm this time really remained very brief.
They didn't want to get tangled up in the hubbub there and they had no money to overstay. They needed to sell their loot soon and they needed to get their armors fixed. As it was, they felt woefully unprepared, even for a potentially calm stay in a city. After all, the cities were still not entirely safe. It was especially unnerving that they hadn't seen any people dressed in Imperial armor. It was understandable in Windhelm, of course. But it also only filled them with uncertainty. Were the Penitus Agents even here? Did they go undercover or did they not receive Ulfric's cooperation at all?
Nevertheless, it was clear that lingering around would not do them any good.
Right when they entered, Aeyrin asked the first passerby whether Lord Free-Winter returned to Windhelm already. He was a well-known person in the city and she knew that they could get the information on the go. The passerby had no idea, but the second one she approached did know. Brunwulf was still 'gone on business'.
It was unsurprising. She assumed that she would hear from him or from Master Therien if things were done, but that only made her more anxious. She knew that she needed to be more patient, but it was difficult when she had no idea what was going on down south. The only comfort she had was the last letter that Brunwulf's housekeeper reiterated for them. Everything was going well, he claimed.
Trying to put her mind off it, she practically dragged Bishop to the market square towards the White Phial. They needed money first. They bought some rations for the upcoming journey at Nightgate and they barely had a few drakes left between them. The healing wouldn't be free and neither would the carriage.
They were right in presuming Quintus's interest and gratitude. He was quite shocked by their story – maybe more so by the fact that they had uncovered an ancient Dwemer crossroads complex, but he was interested in the odd nirnroot as well.
He did get put off by the retelling of Sinderion's ultimate fate. He had made it clear – research was not worth wasting an entire life on. He knew of a nirnroot farm somewhere in the Rift. Apparently the women owning it were avid alchemists and they would be interested in pursuing the research. He was quite confident in their abilities to discover various uses for the uncommon plant and he was even more thrilled when Bishop and Aeyrin informed him about Calcelmo's plan – he was going to get the key from them after all and he had planned on replicating it. Anyone going down and surviving would be able to supply the women in the Rift with many more nirnroots, should it be necessary.
They earned a nice sum for their efforts – two hundred septims. It was enough to get the healing and the carriage and then some, but it was definitely not enough for the work they would need to have done in Markarth – not with the current state of their armors. But that was a concern for a later time.
Their next stop was the Temple of Talos.
Jora wasn't there and they were too wary of asking about her, lest it's obvious that they know her better than it would appear. So they let themselves be examined by old Master Lortheim.
It was just as Aeyrin had predicted – the wounds could be healed a little, but some scars would remain. Hers only remained small – a little speckle on the back of her hip, above her buttocks. Bishop's were more extensive. He had a sparse web of them traveling over his back and one spot on his thigh. He wasn't really bothered about them though – he had earned worse scars before. As long as they didn't need to be soothed and dressed every night, he was fine with them. So was Aeyrin. As opposed to keeping reminders of past tortures, this was one of adventure, excitement and the start of something new for the two of them.
By the time the priest was done, the burns were only red marks on their slightly puffy skin and those would fade and flatten on their own over time. The rest of their damage was only bruises – nothing a healer could help with. The muscle strain was gone for the most part after their three-day stay in the wilderness and so now, they were in as good a shape as they could be.
It was time to move on towards Markarth.
It was barely past noon when they left Windhelm and paid for a carriage at the stables. They requested the northern route, avoiding Whiterun Hold, and they agreed that they would stay at Rorikstead through the night, if the drive went smoothly. The driver asked for a break so that she could get some rest herself and they were all in accord that this was the most convenient option.
The journey went smoothly. There were no ambushes and no unexpected stops. It was surprisingly peaceful. They got to Rorikstead before nightfall – the journeys were always so much faster when horses were involved. If hiding them wasn't so inconvenient, they would have considered buying their own some time ago. And if Aeyrin would ever learn to ride properly. But it was still quite useless, given the places where they tended to camp, how inconspicuous they often tried to be and given the fact that dragons were often intent on swooping down on them – they would surely char their investment beyond recognition all too soon.
It was better this way. The carriages weren't that expensive and at least the two of them could relax together on the seats.
They arrived to Markarth quite early the next day after their rest in Rorikstead.
They did not stop, they did not linger. They didn't need to hear any rumors about the city that would draw them in, they did not need to look like they were getting nosy or involved in anything in any way. They couldn't give the Silver-Bloods any reason to get suspicious.
They only stopped when they reached the smithy below the Understone Keep.
"Welcome back," the Orc smith gave them a brief nod in greeting when she spotted them. "Need some fixes?" They had been there a few times already to get their armors touched up and fixed a bit after various battles.
"Well… sort of," Aeyrin gave her a wry smile. Her armor was lost. She just planned on selling the remaining parts for scraps. She didn't see any of her discarded ones in Blackreach – the Falmer must have stolen them right away, wherever they fell.
Bishop's armor was a whole other matter.
He slung his pack from his back and started to rummage inside, pulling out the various parts of his armor set. The pack was full to the brim and it was hard to navigate, but eventually, he managed to find all the pieces.
The Orc's apprentice approached him expectantly. He remembered that this part would be mostly on him – he was the more experienced leather-smith. But when he took Bishop's chest piece and examined it carefully, his face fell.
"Sir… this is…" he gave Bishop an uncertain look. It was in a sorry state. There were so many cuts in it that it might just end up looking like a one big stitch if it was fixed.
"Yeah…" Bishop let out a sigh. "Probably better to get a new one." That was gonna be much more expensive but, as much as he loved this armor, its lifespan was at an end, he already had that feeling.
"That won't be a problem," the young Imperial chirped. "We can incorporate the plates again if you like, keep the protective design."
"Sure," Bishop nodded. It proved to be more than effective. This time he was kind of eager to try and get ebony for the plates. It was sturdier, even if more expensive, and the dark color would blend even better with the black leather. But they still had no money. Not enough for this. "We still need to go sell our shit. I'm not sure what plates we can afford. We just wanted to get the work started." Aeyrin agreed not to help with the armor smithing this time – it was too time-consuming and if they spent the whole day at the forge, there would hardly be any time left to recount their adventures to Calcelmo.
"Mistress gra-Bagol can make the plates when you come back and I can sew them in later," the man smiled kindly. "So you want the same armor? With the same measurements?"
"Yeah. The pockets too," Bishop nodded. It was the perfect design for him and Aeyrin had his measurements down. It was kind of impressive that she managed to commission one so well fitting.
"What about you, girl?" the Orc nodded at her expectantly.
"Well… most of my armor is… gone…" Aeyrin chuckled a little. "I just have a few pieces to sell you back. But I wanted something new for my plates. And a new underchain." She started to rummage in her own pack as well before she finally pulled out one of the crystals. They looked different in the sunlight. They were light-blue and they were reflecting the sun with every motion. There was a very soft glow to them, but it wasn't even enough to beat the reflection. Maybe that would be a little more perceivable in the darkness.
"What is that?" the Orc gaped at the crystal with palpable astonishment.
"We found these deep underground. They were easy to grab, but they seem really sturdy. I was wondering if you could work them into the plates," Aeyrin gave her a hopeful look while the woman studied the crystal critically.
She grabbed the crystal to look at it more closely before she smashed it against the stone half-wall of her smithy with force. It didn't shatter. Aeyrin couldn't tell from more afar, but judging by the woman's impressed expression, it didn't even crack.
"Interesting," she nodded. "You have enough of these? It will take some trial and error. I have never worked with any type of crystal, but I think I could reinforce a plate with them."
"I have enough, I think," Aeyrin nodded. She didn't even have to say anything before the young apprentice brought over a bucket and she started to fill it with all the crystals she could find in her pack. Almost all. Calcelmo would surely be interested in examining one.
"Good haul," the Orc nodded approvingly as the bucket was beginning to fill. "It should be enough for plate pieces. Not a full-plate."
"Oh, I don't want a full-plate anyway," Aeyrin shook her head. "I want the underchain." She couldn't move in full-plate armor. She needed the freedom and sturdiness both that only chainmail could provide.
"I hope you'll 'sell your shit' for a lot though," the Orc pondered thoughtfully. "You need some plate to hold the crystals, I reckon. It would be useful too, they are an unknown and if they fall off, you would be left with some other protection. And the underchain will need more metal, of course."
"Right. I was hoping we would get enough for ebony. For all the metal parts," Aeyrin gave her a wry smile. They had a lot of stuff to sell and the lexicon and the key alone should make Calcelmo malleable to some extra drakes.
"That's gonna be really expensive," the woman scowled. "We have just enough, but it's the best metal we have. And working it ain't easy. Not to mention the crystals…"
"You got an estimate?" Bishop interrupted her musings. None of this told him anything about the actual price. He had no idea what a work of this scope would take.
"Hmm… I can promise you it won't go over a grand and a half," the Orc nodded.
That was a lot. But it wasn't too above what they had been imagining for both their armors. The last ones cost nearly a thousand drakes. These would be from more quality metals too, so it made sense.
"If you don't get enough, I can hold them until you do. Unless someone else comes by and wants to buy them," the smith scoffed. "Although I doubt that would happen for the plates," she looked at Aeyrin critically. It was quite unlikely that someone of her size would come by asking for expensive heavy armor.
"Sounds like a deal," Aeyrin smiled. She was confident that they would get a lot of gold soon. Calcelmo was always so generous.
"Alright. Let's take some measurements. And show me the rest of your old armor, I can always melt it and get the metal back," the Orc smiled, satisfied with the expensive commission.
Some time passed as they all got to work. Bishop confirmed some details of his armor with the apprentice while Aeyrin found her old armor pieces. She started to work on the measurements with the Orc smith right after they agreed on a hundred drakes for the metal in her scraps.
Bishop idled by the cliffs behind the forge while they worked. The apprentice had clear instructions and there was nothing else for him to do. Hopefully the measuring wouldn't take too long. He was already eager to see Calcelmo's excitement and mainly his generous coin purse.
He kicked a loose stone idly on the ground, watching it roll along the pathway. As his eyes drifted to the side though, he noticed someone approaching. Someone a bit familiar.
They had seen him before. He was a messenger for the Silver-Bloods.
Fuck. Bishop could only hope that the family would want them out of the way again. They didn't seem to appreciate the two of them meddling into anything that was going on in the city. Bishop still couldn't help but feel dread enveloping him. The Brotherhood wouldn't tell the Silver-Bloods who had sent them, right? They didn't even know that Bishop was faking when they left for Markarth!
The Nord approached Bishop and stopped right in front of him. He didn't say anything. He didn't even have a note for him. He just stood there, looking so fucking menacing.
"We're getting some gear and we need to talk to Calcelmo," Bishop had to make an effort not to actually fucking stammer as the Nord kept glaring at him. It felt so weird to be 'reporting' to him like this, but he wasn't sure what else to do. He needed to reassure this guy that they had no intention of butting into any Silver-Blood business. "We're not even staying the night. We'll be out of here as soon as our shit's ready."
"Be sure that you are," the Nord only scowled at him in return before he turned on his heel and marched away.
Whew. That was a relief. It still felt odd and fishy. Aeyrin instantly threw Bishop a very concerned look from across the smithy, but he only gave her a reassuring smile in return. He was glad that she wasn't so tempted to meddle this time, not when it could potentially cause some trouble with what happened with the Brotherhood. At least the Penitus agents should be around Markarth. There were several soldiers in Imperial armor in the area. Those could have been regular soldiers, but still, some of them were surely the agents.
He really hoped that this was the last reminder of the Silver-Bloods they would get here.
…
"My friends!"
Calcelmo's face lit up the second he saw the two of them approach. His excitement was contagious. Especially when they knew that it would be even bigger in a moment.
He was alone in his workstation area. It looked like his young nephew still wasn't back to work. Calcelmo had mentioned that the boy needed a break after he had been attacked by a Forsworn. Maybe he was still rattled from it – it had been a few months, but it was probably a traumatizing experience. Or maybe he was just out on some errands.
For once, Calcelmo didn't even acknowledge that he had been busy with some research. He instantly pushed aside every book, every quill and every scrap of Dwemer metal as he stood up to approach them eagerly.
"Hello, Calcelmo," Aeyrin beamed at him while Bishop nodded his head in greeting.
"What brings you back here? Is it too much to hope that you got a craving for a grand adventure again and that you bring me treasures from another city?" Calcelmo gave them a wry smile. He was going to be beside himself when they told him.
"We did, actually," Aeyrin snickered, mostly at the way Calcelmo's entire face brightened considerably.
"Incredible! I have to tell you, I have adventurers from all over Skyrim coming to sell me the artifacts they recover, but they hardly ever make it past a couple of chambers. Those are usually picked clean. But I know that I can count on you two," he clasped his hands together in excitement. "So, which one of the cities have you explored? Mzinchaleft? Tell me it was Mzinchaleft. A young warrior had ventured there recently but she didn't make it out with much. She was forced to leave most of her things inside when she had to escape, poor thing."
"Not Mzinchaleft," Bishop shook his head. The whole story about the warrior was familiar. It was very reminiscent of their first attempt at conquering Dwemer ruins. They had to come back later with a better tactic to Raldbthar to recover their things. They were lucky back then that the lift hadn't closed. They still had no idea how long it took for that to happen, if it was even a regular timeframe. But that wasn't important right now. What was important was teasing Calcelmo. "We went to Alftand."
"Oh," the scholar's face instantly fell in disappointment. He clearly knew all about Alftand and the state of it. "I… see. I was under the impression that the College mages were exploring the ruins for years now. Did you… did you find anything?" He was so crestfallen. It would have been sad had they not known that it wouldn't last long.
Bishop gave Aeyrin a teasing smirk and she instantly knew what he wanted to show Calcelmo first. It would be pretty funny, if it was what they thought. She had the book in her pack and she slung it onto the ground and rummaged around until she found it.
"It was mostly empty. But we did find… well… it's something alright," she chuckled while her cheeks started to burn. She pulled out the book in a moment and she presented it to Calcelmo with palpable embarrassment. Maybe it wasn't what they thought it was though.
Calcelmo looked at the cover of the book curiously before his brows creased. He clearly studied the depiction of the automaton with confusion, particularly its arm appendages.
"We found it hidden inside a mattress," Bishop smirked. That was telling enough.
"Ah," Calcelmo chuckled when he connected the dots. "Yes, well, the Dwemer were people, elves, just as we are. As much as we tend to revere them as a superiorly intellectual race, that would not diminish their… natural needs and fantasies."
Bishop only chuckled in amusement while Aeyrin tried to fight her blush. He knew that was what it was. What else would anyone hide inside their mattress?
"It's an interesting find, friends. Well worth some nice reward. My boy Aicantar will surely have a blast translating this piece of art," Calcelmo chuckled with palpable affection in his voice. "I do wonder why you ventured into the plundered ruins. Did you not know?" he gave them a sympathetic look.
"Well, we needed something in Alftand. We found a Dwemer thing before up on the surface and our research said it belonged to Alftand," Aeyrin explained. She had a hard time hiding her constant smile.
"'Belonged'? What do you mean 'belonged'? You went to… return something?" Calcelmo scowled. That was clearly the opposite of what he wanted to hear.
"Well, not to 'return'," Bishop smirked while he slung his pack over his shoulder and rummaged around. This was too fun – they weren't going to just show him everything right away. The mage deserved to get at least half as much excitement and nervousness of this tale as the two of them. Bishop's hands finally located what he had been looking for and he pulled out the cube with a smug smile. "To inscribe."
Calcelmo was silent. His jaw dropped as he stared at the lexicon filled with Dwemeris script, glowing brightly, one symbol over another. It was probably the first time they actually witnessed him fall speechless.
"A… a lexicon," he gasped after what felt like a very long time. "You inscribed a lexicon?"
"Well, when we found out what it was and what it's for, we thought you'd like an inscribed one more, so we went to Alftand where it belonged," Aeyrin smiled at him warmly.
"You are marvels, my friends," he reached out for the cube carefully, as if he was worried that Bishop would take it back for himself at the last second. But of course he wouldn't. What would he even do with it? This was clearly meant for Calcelmo. And he was sure to pay for it handsomely.
"I… I'm not sure I'll be able to decipher it," Calcelmo let out a weak chuckle. "But I will make every effort to. I can't even begin to imagine the secrets this might hold."
His excitement was endearing, even if this could only be some idle tale told to children to put them to sleep. But that hardly mattered now.
"I can't believe you went into the plundered ruins just for the lexicon. Where did you even find an empty one?" he questioned after a bit more time spent admiring the cube.
"We found it in a… small Dwemer structure on the surface," Aeyrin explained, leaving out the location purposefully. That place wasn't safe. The last thing she would want is Calcelmo being killed by a tentacle book as well.
"It wasn't the only thing there either," Bishop smirked at him, already imagining that the mage might actually faint at the next part. He rummaged in his pack again and Calcelmo promptly placed the lexicon on his desk, waiting with bated breath.
After a few moments, Bishop pulled out the small sphere and handed it to Calcelmo. The scholar studied it curiously for a while, obviously without recognizing it. When he threw them a questioning look, cautiously hopeful that they might have more information, Aeyrin gave him another hint.
"It was another reason to go to Alftand. Where we could use it," she smiled.
Calcelmo still looked a little confused, but they could practically see the proverbial cogs in his brain turning. He looked at the small ball intently, as if he almost had it at the tip of his tongue – the purpose of this seemingly insignificant object. And then it hit him.
"This… this is… is it?" he gaped at them in astonishment. "We spoke of this. Did you really use it? Did you go in? Into Blackreach?"
Even if other more important things hadn't transpired there, deep beneath the earth, even if they came up on the surface without the Scroll and without being freshly engaged, this would have made it feel more worth it. That expression on his face was priceless.
"We did," Aeyrin chuckled at him merrily. He was even more excited than she had ever seen him.
"Auri-El's light, tell me everything. Everything." He squeezed the sphere in his hand like he was afraid he might lose it. Or that it may all just be an elaborate illusion.
'Everything' was probably not a good idea. Not the Scroll, not their purpose in Blackreach. But the rest… they could certainly indulge him.
"How much time do you have?" Bishop chuckled at him. There was certainly a lot to tell.
"More than you, my Nordic friend," Calcelmo smirked at him mischievously. "So you better stop teasing me with your half-tales and tell me everything already."
…
Their footsteps echoed through the Sky Haven Temple, creating an eerie atmosphere.
It was late at night by the time they got there. Everyone would surely be asleep by now, but they couldn't make it any sooner.
Fortunately, the Silver-Bloods stayed away throughout their time in Markarth, but that may have been only because the two of them really didn't overstay their reluctant welcome.
It took some time to tell Calcelmo all the tales he wanted and to present him with the other, less impressive, loot they brought back from Blackreach. He was excited about all of it, but nothing made him as giddy as the key. He kept musing about replicating it and about all the expeditions of eager explorers that would follow.
He paid them so much. They had no idea where he got all that money, but it was so much. They had probably never gotten so much gold at once. It was over two thousand drakes.
It was convenient. They could afford the armors without a doubt and Aeyrin began toying with the idea of indulging themselves further when it came to their equipment.
In the end, the Orc smith had some time before her apprentice finished Bishop's armor, so she agreed to make an ebony mace and shield for Aeyrin for four more hundred, two after she had sold her enchanted mace and old shield too. By the time she rushed back to Calcelmo to enchant her new mace, it was almost dusk. But he was still so excited about everything that he didn't even question her. And he promised her a special enchantment with a sizable discount. He kept repeating how much he owed them for all the research that was going to come his way from Blackreach. It was possible that he was too idealistic, but it was hard not to get equally swept up in all that with him.
His special enchantment consisted of three destruction elements combined – fire, frost and shock, all in one blow. Aeyrin had no idea something like that was even possible. He mentioned that it was not as powerful as a singular element would be, but the combined effects were sure to deal with anyone swiftly, wreaking them with various problems at once.
At the end of the day when the sun had almost come down, they were finally done and out of Markarth. The vast majority of the money that they had just earned was gone, but they couldn't care less about that. They would earn more and they needed equipment. Most of it at least. And the rest was a welcome bonus. It was natural after all – with what they had survived down below in Blackreach, they were deserving of feeling like proper hardened adventurers with the gear to match.
The crystal armor came out looking mesmerizing. There was a black plate underneath which made the brushed crystal gleam even more prominently. All the plates had parts of them encased in the smoothed crystals – the chest piece, the back, sides of her bracers, thigh-guards and the fronts of her boots too. And it contrasted nicely with Aeyrin's new ebony underchain.
Bishop was equally happy with his new armor, though he himself didn't sell the old one. He wanted to keep it, even if it was mostly ruined. It was a sentimental one.
With all the new equipment, they were ready for anything.
Even though it was late, they didn't feel even a little tired. They felt accomplished. And more of that was soon to follow in the temple.
In the morning, probably.
But much to their surprise, as they reached the main grand hall, they noticed several lit lanterns by Alduin's Wall and a man crouching down by them.
Esbern was still awake, still deep in his studies.
He didn't even notice them, even when Aeyrin's heavy footsteps rang through the hall. Only when they approached and their shadow fell a bit on one of Esbern's books did the man look up.
"Ah. Hello. You came to visit again," he smiled warmly. "Where is everyone? Perhaps they are training again in the courtyard," he mused after a while, looking over the room. Granted, there weren't many windows to let the light in so the Temple was always kind of dark, but it was still staggering that he hadn't noticed.
"Esbern, it's like two in the morning," Aeyrin chuckled at him.
"Oh. It is?" The old man blinked a few times as he looked around the chamber again. "I must have lost track of time. It happens. Delphine is always pestering me not to neglect my sleep, but she has no idea how riveting all these records are. Have you been here long?"
"We just arrived," Aeyrin smiled at him wryly.
"Ah. Well, I'm sure there is plenty of room for you to rest. I should probably rest as well. I can tell you more tales in the morning, if you'd like," he started to collect himself off the ground and Aeyrin instinctively helped him up a bit by supporting him under his elbow.
"Not yet. We're not waiting 'til the morning," Bishop smirked. Now when Esbern was awake, they were both all too eager to show him their find.
"Waiting? For what, young man?" Esbern gave him a curious look as he brushed a bit of dust from his old worn robes.
Aeyrin eagerly stepped towards Bishop to unclasp the hidden Scroll from his bow strap. They had considered just putting it into his quiver before, but it was so big, it could have fallen off. This way he had to hook his bow around his pack straps instead, but it was a functional alternative at least. The Scroll was secure like this.
Before Aeyrin could even unroll Bishop's cloak from the golden artifact, she heard Esbern's breath hitch in his throat. He could probably already tell what it was, but he didn't make a peep until she finally uncovered that thing, letting it gleam in the dim light.
"Heavens. You found one," Esbern whispered in astonishment. He carefully ran his hand over the metal, over the golden star in the center, then his voice got much louder. "You found one!" There was laughter under his words, a joyous laughter of incredulousness that carried through the halls.
Esbern took the Scroll from Aeyrin's hands very carefully and his grip dipped a bit when she let go – he hadn't realized how heavy it would be either.
He admired it silently for a while before another set of footsteps echoed through the chamber. Esbern ignored them once more, but Aeyrin and Bishop promptly looked towards the source.
"What's all that ruckus about? Are you still awake, old man?" Delphine's voice rang through the halls while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, barefoot and only dressed in simple trousers and long tunic. "Oh… You're here," she blinked a few times when she noticed Bishop and Aeyrin there and she walked towards them.
She stopped in her tracks after a few moments though when her eyes fastened on the object in Esbern's hands. A gasp left her lips and in the next second, she actually rushed across the rest of the room towards them.
"An Elder Scroll. You… you actually found one," she gaped at the two of them.
It would have been a little insulting to be underestimated, were it not for their own surprise at their success.
"It is amazing. We are so close," Esbern whispered reverently.
"W-well… it is amazing. Good work," Delphine almost cracked a genuine smile. "But we are not close. We don't know what to do with this properly. We don't even have anyone who could read it."
"Yes, yes," the old man waved her lack of enthusiasm off. "Little victories, Delphine, little victories. I'll contact the Moth Priests again. Hopefully they will write back this time."
"Well don't tell them we have a Scroll," Delphine scowled at him promptly. "We don't know who they report to. Who's spying on them."
"I wouldn't," Esbern shook his head in accord.
Bishop and Aeyrin only shared a knowing look. It sounded likely that Bishop's previous theory was right – Esbern was surely too vague to even warrant a response from the Priests.
But he had a good point. Little victories were important. This was a great step forward.
"Where did you find it?" Delphine questioned after a while.
"It's quite a tale," Aeyrin chuckled. She expected to be told to save it for the next day, but Delphine only waved her hand dismissively.
"It's fine. I'll wake everyone up. You can tell us all about it. Everyone will be ecstatic."
Well, it seemed like they would be providing the bedtime stories for tonight.
But that was fine, even if they spent the entire time recounting their tales instead of sleeping.
They had accomplished much in the last few days.
They had earned the right to rest any time with no pressing matters pushing them forth for once.