I arrived at the capital shortly after the noon hour a day later. It was an uneventful trip. As I entered I noticed the sombre, panicked edge in the air, and I realized that news of the Emperor's death and Kvatch's sacking must have reached all corners of Cyrodiil by now. I was glad that I had given Modryn the warning. He would have had at least a little time to prepare.
Although Jauffre's request still echoed in my ears, I chose not to go to straight Luther Broad's. Instead, I headed to the Waterfront district, where I stopped for a moment in front of a familiar door in the city's wall before taking a deep breath and stepping inside. Although the door to Dareloth's basement was just as I remember it, the "house" proper was not. A hail of voices greeted me, and I stopped, surprised. The door shut behind me with a resounding thud. Fathis Ules, Othrelos, Armand Christophe, Methredhel, and Amusei all stared at me from the table in astonishment. There was a moment of frozen silence.
"You've alive!" Amusei exclaimed, and then everything happened in a blur of movement. Fathis, who had half risen, sat back down, Amusei and Methredhel came and guided me to the table, and Armand sheathed his weapon.
"What is going on here?" I asked as I sat and a drink was poured for me. Fathis cleared his throat and folded his hands together, acting, as always, the ever proper, wealthy, Dunmer. The others took their cue and settled in.
"We received word that you had been captured by the Imperial Guard," he said. "Seeing as you are the right hand man – pardon, woman – to the Grey Fox herself, we assumed it would prudent to rescue you should you not return within a day or two. When it was discovered you were not in your cell, and what the rumours of the emperor and his assassins passing through the Imperial Prison, we feared the worse. We were attempting to chart the best course."
"We hadn't had any word from the Fox, either, but she is probably busy with her own business," Amusei rasped in his gravelly voice. "As you know she often disappears for a time when the Guild is running smoothly."
I am quite aware, I thought to myself. Do you know what it's like being a high ranking member of two Guilds, the membership to one a secret that cannot under any circumstance be revealed to the other? Ugh. 'What took you so long, Sara?' 'Oh, I'm sorry Modryn, I was just out making sure your auntie's panties were getting stolen in a proper, orderly fashion, that's all'.
I sighed.
"Well, I appreciate your concern, but as you can see, I've escaped and I'm fine. All I'm missing is a little equipment, and I'm sure that can be returned to me swiftly with the right persuasion and a bit of luck." I eyed Armand with my 'I haven't explicitly ordered it but I want this done anyway' look and continued. "Now, as I have had word from the Fox recently, I would like to ask that I be given the chance to speak privately with Amusei and Methredhel." Fathis looked a little peeved and Armand resigned, but they and Othrelos left without complaint. When the door had finally shut, I turned my gaze upon my two remaining guild-mates. A small smile crept up on my features. Ah, the times that I'd had with these two.
"Do you remember when we first applied to the Guild?" I asked, unwilling to get to the point. Amusei nodded. Methredhel gave a snort.
"How could we forget?" she said. "It was your showing up that made us do that silly competition. I had to wait a whole month before I could apply again."
I chuckled a little.
"Yes, I remember that. You were so mad when you met me outside Amantius' house and I had the diary." She scowled at me, but I still smiled as I turned to Amusei. "And you! Freelance thievery? I knew you were a little dense, but I didn't think you would have gone that far."
"I learned my lesson after the Pale Lady," the Argonian replied with a shudder. "I can never thank you enough for saving my life. I'm ashamed I still have yet to pay you back for it."
I sobered, the smile disappearing from my face as I regarded him.
"I'm glad I did, regardless," I said softly. "You have become one of my most trusted guild-mates." If Argonians could blush, I would have said Amusei was doing so. Methredhel stirred in her seat, and I turned to her. "You, too, Methredhel. We Bosmer have to stick together, eh?"
"I suppose so," she said. "I guess that's why half the Guild hails from Valenwood."
"Or the Black Marshes," Amusei added. We shared a laugh. As the merriment trailed off, however, I was forced to acknowledge my reasons for coming. I sighed, heavily, and Amusei looked on with concern.
"Are you alright, guild-mate?" he asked, and I sighed again.
"I… do have more pressing matters to address," I said, solemn. I took in a deep breath as they watched me, steeling myself for the jump. "I am resigning from the Guild."
"What?" Amusei's gravely cry was mixed with that of Methredhel's fairer voice.
"But you're the Grey Fox's right hand man! You can't just leave!" the Bosmer argued. I met her brown eyed gaze levelly.
"I can and I will. The Grey Fox has already accepted my resignation. I am to be banned from the Guild and will lose all corresponding rights and privileges, nor will I be given pardon should I wish to return. All belongings that I have obtained through Guild activities shall be forfeit, with the exception of my arms, armour, and a few sentimental items. The Fox and I have negotiated this together, and I accept her word."
"You… you have negotiated? You call this negotiation?" Methredhel's hand curled into a fist. "You have done great things for the Guild – the Grey Fox can't expect you to leave with nothing!" I waited until she had calmed a bit, and then took in a breath, once again preparing myself.
"It was I who requested all this."
The woman leaned back in her chair, stunned. Amusei, too, was silent.
"But… why?" he asked after a moment. "Do you not enjoy the Guild? Has it done wrong by you?"
"No," I said with a weak, fleeting smile. "The Guild has been very good to me, almost too good. It gave me a home when no others would, taught me skills I needed to survive, and brought me to people I can trust and care for." I took a sip from the goblet to fortify my strength. "However, if I am going to quit myself of the Guild, I will need to do so with the knowledge that I can't go back, otherwise I will. I'm excellent thief – all of three of us are – but circumstances have arisen where I can no longer remain in the Guild with a free conscience. I've… made a promise with someone that I would give up thievery, even if I'm only stealing from those who deserve it."
I twirled the goblet by its stem, watching the light reflect off its silver surface. Modryn had been furious when he caught me stealing from the rich of Chorrol, even if he grudgingly approved of my Robin Hood tactics after the fact. The Thieves Guild was important to me, but it would get by without me. I could still see Methredhel, Amusei and all the others without it, all the parts of the Thieves Guild that I loved, but Modryn… Modryn was the kind to stick to his word, even if it left him lonely in the end, and he had promised never to speak to me if I didn't give up my illegal activities. I didn't want to lose my dearest of dear friends, and, if I was being honest with myself, I was tired of stealing. I had so much money I didn't know what to do with it. I'd already purchased the grandest houses I could find and filled them with the most beautiful of possessions, but none of them brought so much joy as the sight of a hard cot in the Fighter's Guild hall after a long, fulfilled contract. I took another drink.
"Methredhel, Amusei… I want you to understand that I am not ungrateful to the Guild. You see, I…" I trailed off, uncertain how to proceed. I had never told anyone this, not even Modryn, yet they deserved to know. I had kept it secret from them for too long.
"I was… When I was younger…" The words were swallowed down as soon as I formed them with my protesting tongue. I didn't want them to know, didn't want to have to endure their betrayed glances, their distrustful scowls, but they deserved to. I couldn't claim to be their friend after severing the ties that had brought us together if I wasn't honest with them now.
"If you are going to tell us about your history before the Guild, you don't need to."
I glanced up, surprised first by Amusei's rumbling voice and secondly by the sincere, compassionate look on his face. Methredhel was looking at him, inconspicuously and with disguised confusion, informing me that she did not possess the same knowledge or opinions as our companion. I returned my attention to Amusei. Fear began to pool in my stomach. If he knew, if my secret had been so easily discovered…
"Do you...? How––?" I began to ask, but he cut me off with a wave of his hand.
"The Fox asked me to look into your history. She had heard some… unsettling rumours. She wanted to make sure you weren't breaking any of the tenets––"
"––You don't honestly think Sara would steal from one of us, do you?" While warmed by Methredhel's ardent defence of my honour, it also saddened me.
"No, never steal," the Argonian continued. "Those were not the rumours." The Bosmer glanced at me, fear flashing in her eyes.
"Kill…?" she whispered, and I looked down into my goblet, not meeting her eyes. She drew back, recoiling from me like a venomous snake. "Is it true?" she demanded, her voice rising in pitch and volume.
"It doesn't matter what she did before the Guild," Amusei said calmly, coming to my defence.
"But if she murdered someone––"
"Sara is our friend. It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
Methredhel rose, her eyes dark with fury.
"Did you or did you not commit murder?"
I glanced away, searching for a way to reply.
"It was a long time ago, before I knew there was any way to––"
"You disgust me," she spat, and then she shoved in her chair and stormed out of the room. The door slammed, and, in the silence after, I stared at my drink.
"Amusei," I began. "I'll understand if you don't want to––"
"You are my friend, Sara," he said. "And you saved my life all those years ago. If nothing else, that proves to me you are a good person. You could have done to me what the Pale Lady did. It would not have taken much to get me to talk and reveal the location of the book."
I smiled weakly, still keeping my eyes on my goblet. He rested a hand on my shoulder.
"I can understand why you would want to leave the Guild," he said quietly. I glanced up at him, surprised by this confession. "You are a good person. Stealing is not considered good by many people. You have a life beyond the Guild. This makes it difficult for you. I see it."
I gave a relieved, voiceless laugh, the tension easing a little from my shoulders.
"And I always thought you were the dense one."
He smiled at me, his mouthful of teeth brilliantly displayed.
"I used to be. Then I met someone who made me think using my head might be a good idea."
I gazed at him gratefully, taking in every detail of his ageing, Argonian face. How many years had it been now? Seventeen? Eighteen? How long until I would lose this wonderful, wonderful friend?
"Thank you," I said. "For everything."
He gave a nod of acknowledgement, and released my shoulder.
"Like I said, you are my friend. It doesn't matter what happened before the Guild."
An old fear crept back into my stomach, unsettling me.
"On that topic, Amusei… How is it you were able to find out about my past? If you did, then… anyone…"
He waved my concern away, shaking his head.
"I didn't learn anything but rumours," he said. "Apparently you didn't exist before you joined the Guild. At least, no one had any information on a redheaded Bosmer named Sarasamacial."
I sighed. Part of me wanted to tell him why, but my old caution was too strong, my distrust too complete. He reached for the decanter still positioned on the table, and poured himself a drink.
"You don't have to tell me anything," he said after he'd taken a swallow. "Nothing about your past, anyway. I'm happy knowing who you are here, now. Although," he continued, putting his glass down, "I would like to know why all of the Bosmer looked at me funny when I asked them about you."
I chuckled to myself, finishing off my drink.
"My name's a Bosmeri pun," I informed him. "It very poetically says 'no-one', literally 'the one who is no one'."
"So you're saying…"
"Yes. You were asking where No-One was."
He shook his head, gazing into his cup.
"I won't ask who gave you that name. Only you could have thought it up."
I smiled. We sat in silence for some time then, Amusei sipping his drink, and I feeling content, secure, and unbearably vulnerable all at the same time. There was something to be said about sharing a dark secret with someone. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.
"So why is it you wanted to speak with Methredhel and me anyway?" the Argonian asked, breaking the still quiet.
"I came to give you both a final assignment, a kind of tribute to our early days."
"Oh?" he said, plucking up and looking eager. I half-smiled at him.
"It is an unfortunate circumstance that, when I was captured by the Guard, I was carrying a rather valuable item that the Grey Fox is quite loathe to lose," I explained. "It is of great importance to the welfare of this Guild, and she wishes dearly to have it back."
"You wanted us to go get it?"
"Yes," I replied. "But it wasn't to be a simple mission. It was to be a competition." A shadow flickered over my face. "I don't suppose I'll ever get a chance to tell her."
"She'll come around," Amusei said confidently. "You know how she is."
"Maybe," I answered, not terribly convinced.
"So you lost something valuable. The Fox wants it back," Amusei continued, unaware of my lack of confidence. "Was there anything else to this 'competition'?"
"Yes." I smiled as I leaned forward in my chair and faced him. "The winner was to receive a promotion."
"A promotion? But the only position higher than our own is the Grey Fox."
"Exactly."
Amusei looked confused, but I continued on.
"The Grey Cowl of Nocturnal is sitting in an evidence chest of the Imperial Prison, and the Fox wishes to have it back by – oh, let's say midnight, for old time's sake – and whoever brings it back wins the prize."
"Are you the Grey Fox?" Amusei asked me, but I ignored him.
"There's more. Whosoever returns my possessions to me shall earn the key to Rosethorn Hall and all its goods. If someone manages to retrieve both my possessions and the Cowl, then they shall receive both my possessions and the Cowl. Brilliant, isn't it? All my things in one go, and all I have to do is sit here and be patient."
"Sara, if you're the Grey Fox…"
I glanced at my friend, an eyebrow raised.
"Amusei, do I look like the Fox?"
He frowned, searching for a memory I knew he wouldn't have.
"Well, no," he replied. "But––"
"So be happy with your assignment and get going." I gave him a playful shove. "It isn't long until midnight."
I didn't see anyone else I knew past acquaintanceship as I left the guildhall, so I passed without incident into the salty air of the Waterfront. My original plan to hand over the Cowl to Armand and Fathis and say 'pick a new leader' was ruined, but, regardless of Methredhel's response, I decided I liked it better this way. Amusei had been my guild-mate and rival since the beginning; it felt good to be open and give this chance to him. Besides, if he failed, Fathis would find out, and he was just as good a candidate as any for the guild leadership.
My passage through the Temple and Talos Plaza districts of the Imperial City was quiet, although a guard, one of Hieronymous Lex's sympathizers, frowned at me mightily as I passed. One didn't get to be a high ranking official of the Thieves Guild without some consequences. Perhaps he would be pleased to know that, despite his initial frustration with the posting, Lex himself was rather enjoying his new life in Anvil. He even had a wife. I smiled to myself as I entered the Elven Gardens district.
Luther Broad's was on the corner of the first cross street in the district. I let myself in with little ado, and was welcomed by the smell of warm bread and sharp ale. There were only two patrons in the House at the moment: Baurus, at the bar, and another man reading in the corner. I made my way over to the Blade.
"Sit down," he murmured as I approached. "Don't say anything. Just do as I say." I complied, choosing the seat next to him.
"Whatever's on tap," I said to the bartender, who I assumed to be Luther. The man nodded and turned away.
"Listen," Baurus whispered to me out of the corner of his mouth between sips of his drink. "I'm going to get up in a minute and walk out of here. That guy in the corner behind me will follow me. You follow him."
"I'm ready when you are," I murmured back inconspicuously.
"Good. Remember, wait for him to follow me. I want to see what he'll do." You don't have to tell me, Baurus. I know this game better than you think. I didn't say anything aloud, however, but accepted my drink from the bartender and took a swallow. Baurus stood and headed around the corner down to what I assumed to be the basement, and, after a moment, the man in the corner put down his book and followed. I took another pull from my mug and rose as well. I could have been the man's shadow for all that he noticed me.
The way did indeed lead down to the basement, and I remained behind the corner on the steps, listening and watching from my hidden vantage point as the man approached Baurus, who had stopped near one of the wine barrels. Words were exchanged, and suddenly Baurus drew his blade and struck out at the man who disappeared in a cloud of yellow smoke. Conjuration. I drew my bow and shot, catching the man square in the back of the neck as the smoke dissipated. He stumbled and fell forward, and Baurus dealt him a final, finishing blow. I replaced my bow to its former position on my back and stepped forward, avoiding the puddle of blood growing beneath the fresh corpse.
"Search his body," Baurus commanded me. "I'll keep an eye out, in case any of his friends are nearby." He strode past me, and I sighed in resignation as I knelt beside the body. There was nothing unusual in any of his pockets – I struggled to leave his eight pieces of gold behind and lost – but in a pouch he carried over one arm I found a book.
"'Mythic Dawn Commentaries, Volume One'?" I questioned aloud. Baurus glanced back at me over his shoulder.
"Good." He sheathed his sword and faced me completely, taking the book from my hands as I stood. He rifled through its pages, and then snapped it shut with a disgusted look before returning it to me. "I am glad to see you, by the way," he said. "You just caught me at a bad time."
"Truly?" I raised an eyebrow at him, part serious and part teasing. "You sure it isn't the lingering suspicion towards an escaped convict?"
"An escaped convict who has willingly sought out an agent of the empire?" he replied. "One who could get her locked away easy? Not likely. I am glad to see you."
I gave him a look, my lips pursed to the side to hide a smile and my eyes narrowed, but inwardly I was convinced of his sincerity and pleased by it.
"Alright. Considering the circumstances, I guess I'll let you get away with a complete and utter lack of enthusiasm at my presence," I said, teasing. I glanced back at the body. "So, what have you learned?"
Baurus' face grew dark, and his voice was coloured by anger when he next spoke.
"The assassins who murdered the Emperor were part of a daedric cult known as the Mythic Dawn," he said. "Apparently they worship the Daedric Prince Mehrunes Dagon. I've been tracking their agents in the Imperial City." He paused. "I guess they noticed." I let out a snort at his comment, amused.
"You're not the only one who's been busy," I told him. "I found Uriel's heir. He's a priest named Martin."
Baurus' face could have lit up the darkest corners of a Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. It was ironic, or perhaps fitting, considering there was a fresh body just a few steps away.
"Thank Talos he lives!" he said, enthusiasm bright in his every movement. "Martin Septim, you say… We will restore him to the throne! It is the sworn duty of all Blades."
"Duty for you, maybe. At this point I just want to keep him alive." I paused. "The enemy has the Amulet."
"What? How? Did they take it from you?"
"Not from me, Baurus. I got the Amulet to Jauffre and left it in his care, but, when I was still in the wilds with Martin, Weynon Priory was ambushed. By the time we arrived, Prior Maborel was dead and the Amulet stolen. Piner and Jauffre are lucky to be alive."
Baurus shook his head.
"I knew the Prior only a little," he said. "Still… his death will not go unavenged."
"Don't worry. We already got several of the bastards." Baurus regarded me with appreciation. "So. What's our next move, then?" I asked. He sighed and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, thinking.
"There's a scholar at the Arcane University – Tar-Meena's her name," he began. "She's supposed to be an expert on daedric cults. Why don't you take that book to her, see what she makes of it. I'll keep running down leads on the Mythic Dawn network. If you learn anything, you can find me here at Luther Broad's."
"Alright," I agreed. "If you, uh…" I trailed off, trying to think of a way to explain my Thieves Guild situation without giving too much away. "If an Argonian comes looking for me, tell him to wait for me at Dareloth's. He'll know what it means." Baurus fixed me with a puzzled look, but didn't deign to press me for answers.
"If you say so," he said, and then, softer, "May Talos guide you."
"And you," I said with a heartfelt bow of my head. He looked like he was about to speak when the door to the cellar opened. I ducked into the shadows, content to let Baurus deal with the messy scene behind us. He was a Blade and all. He'd figure it out.
It didn't take me long to reach the Arcane University. I stopped briefly at the entrance to ask one of the Legion battle mages if he knew where Tar-Meena would likely be, and he directed me towards the Arch-mage's tower, telling me someone would be sent for her. Luckily I didn't have long to wait, and I had only just tired of examining the soul gems in the display case before an Argonian woman showed up, glancing around expectantly.
"Tar-Meena?" I asked quietly as I approached her, not wanting to disturb any of the others in the tower lobby. She nodded at me, red eyes curious.
"Yes, that is me. How can I help you?"
I inclined my head as a way of greeting, my hand possessively settling on the stolen book bag hanging at my hip.
"My name is Sarasamacial," I explained. "I'm working with a man named Baurus, and he told me to seek you out. We are..." I paused, my caution overriding my desire for knowledge as I glanced around the room in search of eavesdroppers, but everyone seemed absorbed in their own work (not that you could trust mages on appearance alone, unfortunately. They had spells for all sorts of illusions and tricks). I turned back to the woman, hoping Baurus' trust in her was well placed. "We're trying to find information on the Mythic Dawn," I finished.
Her eyebrows – or, at least, the area where her eyebrows would have been – rose in astonishment.
"You know of them?" she said, surprised, but her scholarly interest must have gotten the better of her, for she sobered quickly and continued on. "One of the most secretive of all the daedric cults," she said. "Not much is known about them – they follow the teachings of Mankar Camoran, whom they call the Master. A shadowy figure in his own right." She shivered a little, as if recalling something unpleasant, and then returned to normal. "What do you need to know about them?"
I reached into the pouch I'd taken from the Mythic Dawn agent at Luther Broad's and pulled out the book we'd found, handing it to her. She took it reverently, her scaled hands handling the text with practised care.
"Ah yes," she murmured. "'Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes', wonderful!" She glanced up at me, slight hesitation growing in her eyes as she regarded me. "You have a… scholarly interest in daedric cults, then?"
"You could say that," I said as she handed me the book, and I returned it to its place in the bag. "I need to find the Mythic Dawn."
"Find them, eh?" She shook her head. "I won't poke my nose any further. If you're working with Baurus, then you must be with the Blades. Official business and all that, I understand. Say no more." I regarded her appreciatively, and she continued. "In any case, finding them won't be easy. I've studied Mankar Camoran's writings a bit myself – at least those I could find. It's clear from the text that Mankar Camoran's 'Commentaries' come in four volumes, but I've only ever seen the first two books. I believe that his writings contain hidden clues to the location of the Mythic Dawn's secret shrine to Mehrunes Dagon. Those who unlock this hidden path have proven themselves worthy to join the ranks of the Mythic Dawn cult. Finding the shrine is the first test. If you want search them out, you'll need all four volumes of the Commentaries."
"Where can I find them?" I asked. She gazed down at me, her tail curling as if making some heavy decision.
"You can have the library's copy of Volume Two," she said finally. "But you'll have to come with me to get it." I nodded, and we passed through the lobby doors and set out across the grounds together.
The library was empty – all the apprentices were in session, if the crowds outside were any indicator – and Tar-Meena disappeared briefly into the back shelves, returning with a thick volume in her hands.
"Here," she said, handing it to me, hissing when I went to place the book a little too roughly for her taste into the bag with the first volume. "As I said, I've never even seen the third or fourth volumes," she continued once she was satisfied that I would treat the book properly. "You should try First Edition over in the Market District. Phintias, the proprietor, caters to specialist collectors. He may have an idea of where to locate those books." I nodded gratefully, adjusting the strap on my shoulder to make it sit more comfortably.
"Thank you," I said to her. "This helps immensely."
She waved me away, looking almost embarrassed at my gratitude.
"It was my pleasure. Be sure to let me know how your hunt for the Mythic Dawn turns out." I nodded smartly and bade her farewell, then turned and headed the way we had come.
First Edition had been a much frequented shop in my later Thieves Guild years, if not by myself than by my underlings, as I had gone through a great period where I was strongly inclined to reading anything and everything I could get my filthy, little, Bosmeri hands on. I didn't think Phintias would recognize who I was (as I had usually visited his store after hours and with a lockpick in hand), but it was with a certain measure of apprehension that I stepped into his shop. It wouldn't do to have to explain to Baurus why I was unable to recover any more copies of the Commentaries.
However, my fears were unfounded. Phintias regarded me with nothing but business-like warmth as I entered, even going so far as to flash me a smile.
"I'm Phintias, owner and proprietor of the First Edition," he said. "Look around. If I don't have it, maybe I can get it."
I smiled cordially at him, inclining my head in acknowledgement, and then cast a furtive glance around the room, checking to see if any others were browsing. I stepped close to the counter.
"I'm looking for volumes three and four of Mankar Camoran's 'Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes'," I said once I was satisfied we were alone. "Would you happen to know where I could get them?" Faint surprise coloured the shopkeeper's face, but he recovered quickly.
"I happen to have a copy of volume three on hand," he began slowly, "but I'm afraid it is a… special order, already paid for by another customer, sorry. Gwinas would be terribly disappointed if it was gone when he came to pick it up."
I leaned forward on the counter, suddenly wishing I wasn't so modestly clad in my armour – this would have been easy, otherwise.
"Are you sure we can't come to" – I flicked my eyes up to meet his – "some sort of agreement?" The armour must have been more of a hindrance than I thought, because he actually looked offended.
"I'm afraid I couldn't sell it to you for any price," he growled. "I've already promised it to someone else, and my word is my bond."
I straightened up, looking ashamed.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, feigning distress. "I didn't mean to question your honour or put you in a compromising situation, it's just…" I began to wish deeply that I was in something a little more flattering. "I desperately need a copy of the last two volumes and was just so excited when I discovered you had a copy of volume three…"
Phintias sighed as I trailed off, looking upset.
"Look," he said. "I'd like to help you out, but the cost… I'd have to try to obtain another copy for Gwinas, not to mention his disappointment if he found out…"
I was about to pounce on the bookseller's waning loyalty when the door to the shop suddenly opened, and a Bosmer – noble, from the look of it – strode in.
"I'm here for my book," he said, marching up to the counter and ignoring me. "Mankar Camoran's 'Commentaries', Volume Three. "
"Ah, of course," Phintias replied, looking relieved, and I cursed my luck. "Here you go." He pulled out a heavy tome from behind the counter and handed it over. The Bosmer took it, a gleeful expression brightening his face.
"Thank you, thank you! I can't tell you how long I've been looking for this book!"
"Keep us is mind for any future needs," Phintias said with a smile, and I thought with vexation, oh, I'll keep you in mind alright. Especially when the daedra are eating our insides. Turning, I moved after Gwinas, following inconspicuously as he left the bookshop and waiting until he had passed the Legion guards and other market goers.
"Gwinas, a moment!" I called out in Bosmeri when we were alone.
"What do you want?" he asked peevishly in the same language as he faced me, his visage darkening more as his eyes lit upon my face. "You're that Bosmer from the bookshop!" he cried. "Have you been following me? Leave me alone! That book is mine!"
"Be calm; I only wish to make a proposition. Surely we can come to some sort of agreement?"
I stepped closer, my hands open to show my sincerity, but he waved me away angrily.
"It isn't for sale. You'll have to find a copy somewhere else."
I felt my own temper rising. I didn't deal well with those trying to thwart me, and Gwinas' attitude wasn't the best, either.
"I'm afraid that doesn't work for me," I said darkly, drawing myself up and allowing the cold expression of my assassin days to take hold. His eyes widened briefly at my abrupt change in manner, but he pulled himself together quickly and met me head on.
"I won't be bullied!" he said challengingly. "I'm not some pathetic bookworm you can just push around! I have friends, you know!"
Caution suddenly struck, and I narrowed my eyes as I took another step closer to him, suspicion rising.
"Friends," I hissed, "in the Mythic Dawn?"
"I-I never said anything about the Mythic Dawn," Gwinas replied, caught off-guard. "In fact, I don't even know what you're talking about."
"You're in way over your head. Give me the book."
"I beg your pardon?" The Bosmer drew himself up, indignation flavouring his tone. "You presume to tell me about daedric cults? I'll have you know that I've visited the Shrine of Sheograth during the Festival of the Mad! I've spoken with Hermaeus Mora beneath the full moons! I've––"
I didn't let him finish. Frustrated, I grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him to the cold, stone wall, my face a mere breath from his.
"The Mythic Dawn killed the emperor, you fool!" I said. "Do you really want to be associated with murders such as them?"
The apprehension that had flared in his eyes at my aggression turned swiftly to true fear as my words sank in, and he swallowed visibly.
"What? The Mythic Dawn was the one…?" I released him, stepping back but keeping him pinned with my stare. His gaze became desperate. "Y-you have to believe me! I truly had no idea, I mean, I knew they were a daedric cult – Mankar Camoran's views on Mehrunes Dagon are fascinating, revolutionary even – but to murder the emperor…!" He lifted his hands to his face. "Mara preserve us!"
I watched, satisfied that he was truly disconnected from the inner workings of the cult and resolving not to take him to Baurus for questioning.
"Give me the book," I said icily, "and I'll forget you were ever involved."
"Yes," he gasped. "Of course! I don't want anyone to think I had anything to do with their insane plots! Here, Volume Three is yours." He lifted his eyes to mine fearfully as he held the tome out to me. "What you do with it is your business." I took the book from his trembling hands, flipping through it briefly to ensure it was the proper text. The material matched. Appeased, I let some of the stoniness evaporate from my manner as I stowed the tome away, crossing my arms and shifting my weight to one hip as I surveyed him one last time.
"I need the fourth book as well. What do you know?"
Gwinas' eyes looked shiftily about. He was uncomfortable; it was obvious.
"You can only get Volume Four directly from a member of the Mythic Dawn," he said reluctantly after a moment. "I had set up a meeting with the Sponsor, as he called himself. Here." He reached inside his robes and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "Take the note they gave me. It tells you where to go. I don't want anything else to do with the Mythic Dawn."
I took the note, placing it carefully in my own pocket before proceeding.
"I'd say that's a very good attitude to have." I remained very still but for the hand I casually laid to rest on the hilt of my dagger. "You did well by the empire with this, Gwinas." I drew the dagger and threw in into the air, catching it by the hilt when it tumbled back earthbound. Gwinas flinched. I smiled at him. "Stay out of trouble, and I'm sure we won't have cause to ever meet again." He paled a little. I sheathed the dagger. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
I turned on my heel and left, heading for Luther Broad's Boarding House. Gwinas watched me, then continued on, shaking his head the entire way.
Baurus was waiting for me when I stepped into the main room of the inn, a mug of ale in front of him as he sat at the counter.
"There you are!" he exclaimed, and he slid off the stool to approach me. "This way," he murmured as he neared. "I booked us a room for privacy."
I tittered silently to myself at the possible implications of his words, but said nothing, choosing instead to follow him mutely up the stairs. Once in our room, he turned to me.
"You know you're not easy to get a hold of," he said. "Your friend came by, the one you warned me of, and I passed on your message. He looked a bit… shady, you might say. You mind filling me in on that?"
"Maybe later," I said with a wry smile as I settled myself on the bed. Then, more seriously, "I have news." Baurus' face instantly changed from suspicious calculation to interested, and he pulled up a chair from the nearby writing desk to sit across from me.
"What have you found out?" he asked.
I told him about what Tar-Meena had said regarding the Mythic Dawn, the Mysterium Xarxes, Mankar Camoran and his Commentaries, and, finally, of my procuring of Volume Three. Pulling it out, I laid it beside the other two volumes on the bed.
"There's also this note given to Gwinas by the Sponsor," I said, retrieving it from my pocket. I unfolded it and smoothed it out on my thigh, and then lifted it near one of the newly lit candles so I could read it.
"Gwinas,
Your interest in the writings of the Master has been noted. You are taking the first steps towards true enlightenment. Persevere, and you may yet join the exalted ranks of the Chosen.
If you wish to continue further down the Path of Dawn, you will need the fourth volume of the Master's "Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes". It can be obtained only from a member of the Order of the Mythic Dawn. As your designated sponsor, I will pass on my copy to you if I deem you worthy.
Study the first three volumes of the Master's writings. Look for hidden meaning in his words, as best as you are able.
When you are ready, come to the sunken sewers under the Elven Gardens in the Imperial City. Come alone. Follow the main tunnel until you reach the room with the table and chair. Sit down. I will meet you there and give you what you desire.
The Sponsor"
I looked up from my reading, meeting Baurus' brown eyed gaze.
"What do you make of it?" I asked. Baurus smiled darkly.
"This just might be the break we've been looking for," he said, voice low yet filled with excitement. "If Tar-Meena is right, we can use these books to locate the Mythic Dawn's hidden shrine." He rose. "Let's go. I know that part of the sewers well."
I frowned.
"Don't you think we should wait? Go through the books? The note specifically says––"
"We're not trying to get into the Mythic Dawn," Baurus interrupted. "So I doubt there's anything in there that we'll actually need. Personally, I plan on just killing the murderers and taking the fourth volume, procedure be damned!" There was a fire in the Redguard's eyes, a fire that I understood all too well. I rose.
"Alright then. Let's go."
The Blade smiled at me, nigh crazily, and we left the room.
The sewers were dark, dank, and just as nasty as I ever remembered them being. I scrunched up my nose, and Baurus glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.
"I hate the sewers," I explained unhappily. "There're too many vampires, goblins, and disease-ridden skeevers… and it stinks."
"No argument there," he agreed.
Baurus had been correct in his estimation of his knowledge of the sewers. It took us minimal time to make our way through, and the skeevers and goblins that we came across afforded little to no challenge. After a few minutes, Baurus stopped outside an iron door, turning to me.
"This is it," he said. "The room with the table is just through this door." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I always wondered who put it there." Then, as if realizing he was digressing, he shook his head, muttering something under his breath. He glanced up over at the stairs to his right, and my eyes followed. "I happen to know that if you go up these stairs it gives you an excellent vantage point on the meeting room," he told me. He lowered his eyes back to me, face determined. "I think I'd better be the one to handle the meeting. You'll be my backup, keep watch from above in case of trouble."
I nodded, agreeing. My bow would be much more useful from a place such as that.
"Good. Remember, we must not leave here without the book. It's our best chance at finding the Amulet."
I took in a deep breath, readying my bow and calming my nerves. The fate of Tamriel might hang in the outcome of the next few minutes. I let out my breath.
"I'm ready whenever you are," I told the Blade, and he nodded. I turned to go up the stairs.
"Listen, I..."
I paused with one foot on the bottom stair, turning to look back at Baurus where he stood with an uncertain expression on his face. "I may not survive this," he said. "And if I don't, you must. You must recover the book and find the Amulet of Kings."
I removed my foot from the bottom stair, moving to stand in front of him. I stared up at him firmly.
"We're doing this together," I said. "We faced them before and lived. We'll do it again. Maybe even get payback."
A weak smile warmed the Redguard's features, and he inclined his head to me in thanks.
"I'm glad you have my back." He took in a breath and pulled himself tall. "Let's do this."
I nodded and turned to creep up the cracked, stone stairs, the ominous creaking of the iron door echoing in my ears. A corner of my mind worried on Baurus' position, separated from me and armour-less as he was, but I quelled the thought brusquely, focusing my attention on the mission. Baurus wouldn't die, armour or no; I'd see to that.
Taking a position in a dark corner of the room, I peered down at Baurus – who'd flipped up his hood to hide his obvious not-Gwinas-ness – watching as he settled himself in the lone, rickety chair and waited for the Sponsor. Presently he appeared, his long, red robes bringing a sickness to my stomach and an anger to my heart that I knew Baurus was sharing. The Mythic Dawn. They'd pay for what they did to Uriel, to Kvatch, to everyone in the Empire.
The Sponsor settled himself at the head of the table, his haughty, Bosmeri features set into a sick smile.
"So, you want to become one of Mehrunes' Chosen?" he began. "The Path of Dawn is difficult, but the reward is great…"
Movement caught my eye, and I removed my attention from the Sponsor to note a pair of Mythic Dawn agents heading towards me from across the way. I tensed and clenched my bow. It was times like these that I wished I had a better grasp of magic – I could simply disappear and make this easy. As it was, I had about seven seconds before they picked me out of the gloom sitting at the top of the stairs.
Gritting my teeth, I smoothly raised my bow and aimed, hoping that Baurus could take care of himself. Steeling my resolve, I shot. The Mythic Dawn agent on the left fell with a gurgle, an arrow cleanly lodged in his throat above his armour.
"There's someone else here!" The remaining agent cried as I readied another arrow.
"You were supposed to come alone!" the Sponsor roared, knocking over his chair in his haste to rise. The yellow magic of conjuration enveloped him, and then he was leaping forward towards Baurus, longsword and sizzling magic in hand. I forced my attention away, focusing on the battle mage in front of me. Dodging a bolt of lightning, I returned fire with my bow, watching as it bounced off the protective magical barrier of my opponent. Again magic roared my way, and again I sidestepped it, but the seething heat of the fireball singed my hair as it passed me, and I cringed away, frightened. The agent barrelled down towards me, mace swinging wildly, and I had barely time to pull an arrow from my quiver before he was upon me.
I jumped back, avoiding a swing, and hastily shot the arrow at his thigh – it ricocheted off his barrier. I ducked as he swung again, and rolled to the side of the narrow passage as the mace came crashing down. Scrambling half upright, I pushed past him while he was still recovering from his strike, and whirled around and readied my bow. I fired three arrows in quick succession. The first turned protestingly from its path, the second broke the barrier but bounced uselessly off his armour, and the third finally found its mark in the weakly protected flesh under his arm as he raised it to fire a spell. The agent staggered back, looking disbelievingly at me, and I put a final arrow between his eyes. Spinning around with arrow notched and ready, I prepared to assist Baurus with his own battle, but the Blade had already won and was standing victorious over his slain enemy. Returning my arrow to its quiver, I quickly navigated the stairs and went to his side.
"That's three more that won't be reporting back to their master," he said as he wiped the blood off his sword on the Sponsor's robes, a look of disgust on his face.
"Are you alright?" I asked, eyeing him for injuries. He nodded, sheathing his weapon.
"Yes, although that could have gone smoother," he said. "Still, I can't say I minded killing a few more of those bastards. Come on. Let's grab the book and head back to Luther's."
I agreed, and we left.
We sat in our room at the inn, poring over the volumes of Commentaries.
"I don't get it," Baurus complained, tossing Volume Three on the bed. I scowled at him, reaching forward to right the ruffled pages. These books were evil, yes, but they were still ancient relics. They deserve proper treatment… at least until they'd given up their secrets.
"Maybe we should go see Tar-Meena," I offered, shutting my own tome. "She may know something that could unlock the mystery."
"Maybe," replied Baurus, getting up to pace. I packed up the Commentaries, carefully stowing them in the stolen book bag and setting it on the floor beside the bed. With that finished, I straightened, stretching.
"Either way, we should probably send word to Jauffre," I said. "He's most likely worrying his head off about us right now – he was desperate enough to ask me to find you, after all."
"Tell me again why you refused his offer of sisterhood?"
I sighed, leaning back against the headboard.
"It's… complicated, Baurus."
"So explain it to me."
I lifted my head to meet his gaze, frowning at him.
"Since when are you so concerned about my motivations? You were happy enough to take the emperor's word and trust me earlier."
"I still do," Baurus assured. "It's just that, well... We hardly know anything about you. You fight well, you work for the Fighters Guild, you can give and follow orders, and... that's about it. No history, no explanation of why you were in that jail cell, no reason as to why you're helping us––"
"Isn't wanting to stop Tamriel from being destroyed by Mehrunes Dagon and securing my own existence reason enough?"
A smile tugged briefly at the corner of Baurus' lips.
"Maybe," he said. "But that still isn't answering any of my other questions."
I sighed resignedly, recognizing that the Blade wasn't going to let the subject drop, and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
"Alright," I said, resting my elbows on my knees. "I'll play question and answer. Answer number one, my history: I'm the champion of the Fighters Guild. It's a recent promotion and I'm not entirely sure I deserve it, but I've been with the Guild for the past seven years and Modryn says I'm champion, so I'm champion. Before that, well... I admitted it to Martin, so I guess I can admit it to you: before the Fighters Guild, I didn't exactly play by the rules. Let's just say I had a brief stint with the Thieves Guild and leave it at that."
Baurus' eyebrows rose dramatically.
"You were a member of the Thieves Guild?"
I shrugged nonchalantly.
"For a while." – right, my inner voice scoffed, a "while" – "I'm out of it now though. Modryn caught wind of it and got his armour all in a tangle."
"You sound pretty unconcerned about having been a member of an illegal guild."
"Most don't even acknowledge its existence," I replied. "Besides, I was a good thief, in both senses of the term. Nobody ever caught me stealing, and I only took from those who could afford it. The beggars and the poor are under the protection of the Guild, and even if they weren't I wouldn't have taken from them. That's just tasteless and cruel."
Baurus shook his head, his expression telling me he was both amused by my words and chastising himself for being amused.
"If nobody caught you stealing," he said, catching the obvious hole in my explanation, "why were you in the Imperial Prison?"
I felt a grin tug wryly at my lips. I looked away good-naturedly, playing it up and indulging him.
"Well… I guess I can't say I was never caught. There were a few times when I first started out when I bungled things, and, well… I guess you could say that, even though I was never caught later on in my career, the Guard knew I was involved. It didn't take much for them to have an excuse to bring me in." I gave him a flat glance. "The ironic thing is that I wasn't even really part of the Guild anymore when they imprisoned me. Apparently they hadn't heard much of my workings with the Fighters Guild either, for they didn't believe me – or didn't care – when I told them as much. Usually I would have just picked the lock or bribed them, but…" I shrugged. "No such luck at the time. I've started carrying lockpicks around again, but not for my old reasons."
Baurus shook his head again, obviously torn between laughing at the comedy of my former situation and chastising me for my frivolous outlook on the law.
"You really are unrepentant, aren't you?" he said finally, fixing me with his brown eyed stare.
"Absolutely," I replied with a cheeky grin. "I loved every moment of it. The Thieves Guild was like my second home. "
Baurus looked genuinely curious.
"So then where's your first?"
The grin and good cheer that had filled me faded so quickly I didn't even realize it had vanished until I noticed Baurus' worried expression.
"Gone," I said quietly, my eyes on the floor. "It's been gone a long time. My first family…" I stopped to rephrase. "My parents were killed when I was eight. The family that took me in after that was murdered when I was in my twenties." Faces swam before my eyes, accusing, bewildered. I tried to shut them away.
I looked up at Baurus.
"The time before the Thieves Guild is not a pretty page in my personal history book," I said. "I understand you curiosity and I'm flattered by your interest, but it's something I'd rather not talk about, if you don't mind."
"No, I'm… I'm sorry. I wouldn't have said anything if I had known."
"I know," I replied kindly, and lifted my bootless feet back onto the bed, pulling my knees up to my chin as I settled my back against the headboard. "Don't let this ruin the mood though," I said, throwing a not quite convinced smiled his way. "That all happened years ago. I can forget it when I want to."
Baurus frowned at me.
"Exactly how old are you, Sara?"
I shot him a look, my eyes dark and my eyebrows low.
"Don't you know better than to ask a woman her age?" I didn't let him reply, although I did relish the startled look on his face. "We're all seventeen anyway, you know." I smiled as I watched him search for a way to properly respond to my statement. I turned my head forward, still chuckling to myself. "I'm forty-four," I admitted.
Baurus looked momentarily surprised, and shook his head disbelievingly.
"Forty-four…" he echoed. He looked up at me. "You look like you're twenty, if that."
I gave him my crooked half-smile and gestured to my ears.
"We Bosmer tend to age a little differently than Men," I informed him. Baurus instantly looked embarrassed.
"I know that! It's just…" He trailed off, shaking his head again. "You're going to think I'm an idiot, but I always imagined… I don't know what I imagined." He looked up at me, eyes honest. "I've never really worked closely with Mer before," he confessed. "I've spent most of my life training and working for the emperor, and the Blades don't have many – if any – elves in their ranks. There's a difference between knowing something and seeing it with your own eyes."
I nodded a little, sympathizing. I looked back at the wall across the room from me, studying the wood's knots and grains.
"It's strange," I admitted. "Sometimes I don't know how to feel about my age. I've known enough elves to firmly recognize I'm young by elven standards, yet most of my life has been spent among Men. I feel odd because of it. Those I have befriended have aged in the time I have known them, while I have remained unchanged. I feel like I'm falling behind. " If Lucien were alive now, he would be over fifty. More than half his life would have been spent.
Baurus was quiet as he regarded me, something moving in his dark brown eyes.
"What about your elven friends?" he asked. I shook my head lightly.
"I had a few," I confessed. "But most have either died, or moved on." Sithis have mercy! You disgust me! "Modryn is about the only elven friend I have left."
"You do talk a lot about him. You must be close," the Blade observed. I gave a small smile, looking down into my lap.
"Probably the closest friend I have. Modryn has done more for me than anyone else. He takes me as I am. To him I'm not "the champion" or "thief" or anything special. I'm just... me. Saracamacial. It's nice."
"He sounds like a good man. He's in the Fighters Guild?"
I glanced up at him.
"He's the Master," I said with a laugh, surprised that Baurus didn't know. Wouldn't the Blades have been informed of the change in leadership? The Fighters Guild wasn't as influential as the Mages Guild, perhaps, but it was still the Fighters Guild of Cyrodiil. "Modryn's been guild Master for about a month now. I'm only champion because someone had to take his place."
"I'm guessing champion is a high rank."
"Only the highest after the Master," I said, teasing. "There's only one in the Guild. It is as the name implies. Modryn – the Master – runs the Guild; the champion defends it."
"So that's where you learned to wield the bow so well."
"More or less," I said, the lie oily on my tongue. I pushed the shadow of guilt that crept up on me away, unwilling to be its thrall. So I had been an assassin. So I wasn't telling Baurus. I didn't need to feel guilty about it. I forced a tremolo of laughter into my voice, simulating good humour in the hopes that it would become fully real. "When it comes to swordsmanship, however, I'm horribly lacking. Modryn says I don't deserve to be the champion if I can't hack off or bash in the head of something without my bow, so I have to learn." I shrugged my shoulders melodramatically. "Before I became the champion, I never used to carry around a sword. Throws me off balance. Too heavy having it hanging off the one side."
Baurus smiled, shaking his head.
"If you'd like I could give you some pointers," he offered. "The Blades receive thorough training in the use of the Akaviri katana."
"Thanks, Baurus. I might just––" I broke off mid-sentence as a yawn swallowed my words. "Sorry," I said once I'd regained control of my mouth. "It's been a long day. Hard to think I was halfway from Cloud Ruler only this morning."
"You've been on the road all this time? Why didn't you say anything?"
I shrugged.
"It never came up. Besides, we had things to do. It's not like I'm going to let fatigue stop me. I battled all through the night liberating Kvatch after I'd travelled there from Chorrol. This is nothing."
"Running around half asleep is going to get you killed," Baurus reprimanded, but then his tone and expression softened. "Let's call it a night," he said, and I couldn't agree more.