The trees had turned from a rich green to gold as they continued on, the horses plodding uphill slowly but surely. Carolara was peering all around them through the white aspens, her cloak drawn around herself as best she could, nervous and cold. She was not used to being under such stress, and wondered silently if she would have taken on this task had she known how ruthless the Empire's enemies would be.
The old paint horse beneath her tossed its head now and then, ears swiveling, picking up on the Breton's anxiety. Ahead of her, Jauffre and Martin outwardly seemed far more collected, the Blade telling tales of the late Uriel Septim the Seventh. She hadn't been paying attention, though, and lost track of what was happening in the story about the evil battlemage that tried to usurp him; preoccupied with peering at every sign of movement she saw.
Soon the snow came, and with it a light fog. There was no wind so the flakes fell gently to the ground, which was getting rockier by the hour. Carolara's tired eyes began to play tricks on her in the darkness, but she couldn't ignore the slightest motion or sound, for after all, it might be the one she ignored that turned out to be real.
The road split, and the party came to a stop. They all dismounted and stretched out their stiff muscles by pacing around a bit, and Carolara handed out strawberries, wishing very much that they had something more substantial. For now, though, anything would do. Jauffre took out his map, checking their course. Martin, however, was peering off east at what looked to him to be a campfire, but it was difficult to see through the dense forest. He pointed it out to the others.
Carolara, being the smallest and most wood-wise of the group, offered to scout it out. The other two remained at the crossroads, on their guard, but thankfully she wasn't gone long. There was a dismal look on her face as she came back out of the forest to meet them.
"It's another Gate," she said. "There were a few Daedric creatures guarding the outside, but I wasn't spotted."
Martin shook his head sadly. "What could it be doing in a place like this? There's no cities or even villages within quite some distance of here."
"Still, it's dangerous," Jauffre reasoned. "It could be that they're trying to secure this road. Whatever its purpose may be, we must keep moving for now." He folded his map and put it away in the pocket of his robes, took hold of his saddle and pulled himself up into it. "The enemy is determined, but so are we. I suggest we make no more stops until we reach Cloud Ruler Temple."
Carolara followed suit. "I suppose we've not got time to shut it, at least right now."
The old man let out a sigh and as soon as Martin was situated, they started to move again. "The truth of the matter is, you cannot possibly close every Gate they open. With the Dragonfires unlit, they can just as easily open another to replace the ones you destroy."
"Jauffre's right," the Septim heir chimed in, "Everything I know about Daedric magic suggests such stable portals are impossible, but the old rules no longer apply. Best to stay focused on restoring the barriers; treat the disease and not the symptoms."
"You can be right all you want, that doesn't mean I have to like it," Carolara replied dryly, glancing over her shoulder just as the reddish glow finally went out of sight.
When the three of them arrived at Cloud Ruler Temple, the Blades were already waiting. The massive gates came open before them and a man in Blades armor came out to greet them; a Redguard, but not the same one Carolara had met in the escape tunnels. He gave Jauffre a questioning look and the old man just nodded, silently confirming. Then he bowed graciously before Martin, who didn't seem to know how to react.
"My lord, welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple." The man straightened up, tone formal. "We have not had the honor of an Emperor's visit in many years."
The priest tried not to fidget. "Ah, well, thank you. The honor is mine."
Jauffre laid a hand on Martin's shoulder with a nod. "Come. Your Blades are waiting to greet you."
They left the horses at the gates for the moment and began up the stone stairs. As they neared the top the rest of the Blades came into view, fully armored and lined up on the left and right, the dozen or so of them all with their eyes on the heir. It all felt like a procession, the Redguard leading up until they reached the top, where he took his place in one of the rows. It was all silent but for the sound of their own steps as they walked. Just before the door they stopped and turned around to face the assembled Blades. It was Jauffre who at last broke the stillness, speaking up so that all could hear.
"Blades," he spoke, "dark times are upon us. The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch. The Empire is in chaos. But there is yet hope." Jauffre gestured for Martin to step forward, which he did with some hesitation. "Here is Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim!"
Every last one of them drew their swords and raised them into the air, letting out cheers that echoed off the mountainsides, hailing him as their Emperor and Dragonborn. The Grandmaster smiled to Martin when it began to die down, "Your Highness. The Blades are at your command. You will be safest here until you can take up your throne."
"Say something to them," Carolara suggested lowly. The Imperial nodded at her in agreement, and raised a hand to quiet the last of the cheers.
"I know you all expect me to be Emperor. I'll do my best. But this is all new to me. I'm... ah, I'm not used to giving speeches," a slightly nervous chuckle, continuing the humble tone. "But I wanted you to know that I appreciate your welcome here. I hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days. That's it. Thank you."
Jauffre spoke over the applause, "Well, then. Thank you, Martin. We'd all best get back to our duties, eh?" And the small assembly dispersed in almost every direction, some of the Blades returning to posts on the fortress wall, some heading inside the building.
Carolara herself was just thankful she wasn't on the horse anymore, though she knew she'd probably be sore for a couple of days. The rough road had not been kind to her. She began to walk along the fortress wall herself, marveling at the view. The sun had come up behind the clouds some hours ago and the snow persisted, limiting visibility, but there was enough to see for it to be beautiful. It reminded her a bit of Skyrim and rightfully so; by her guess, the border into that Province was just a few more hours north from the Temple.
She didn't notice Martin following her until he spoke up, startling her a bit while she was marveling at how high up they were. "Not much of a speech, was it? Didn't seem to bother them, though."
Carolara glanced over to see him standing next to her, looking out at the view as well. "Just by being here you've given them hope," she said. "Honestly, though, it wasn't that bad. Maybe you'll get better at it."
"I suppose I haven't got a choice."
The Breton tilted her head, unsure how to respond to that except to shrug, shifting her weight uneasily. She grew still when she felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder.
"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Martin's tone was apologetic. "I know I would be dead by now if it weren't for you. Thank you."
She nodded, giving his hand a reassuring pat and then folding her hands behind her back. "Well, don't thank me yet. Save it for when this is over. I could still mess things up, you know." A dry chuckle, inwardly scolding herself for her poor taste, averting her eyes. "I'm sorry, that's not funny at all, is it..."
The Septim heir leaned so that both hands were on the stone ledge, staring out at the barely-visible silhouette of the White-Gold Tower where all his ancestors had reigned, and thought aloud. "Everyone expects me to suddenly know what to do. How to behave. They want an Emperor to tell them what to do. And I haven't the faintest idea."
The very concepts boggled Carolara's mind, and she found herself less than envious of his position. In her mind, she would crack under all that weight. "All I know is, I need to find a way to get that Amulet back."
"Of course. Stopping the Oblivion invasion comes before all else. It's just that... ugh." Martin winced in pain, bringing a hand to his forehead.
The Breton's eyes went wide, hurriedly looking him over, "Are you okay? What's the matter? Poison? Magic?"
"No no no no," he shook his head. "It's all right. There's no cause for alarm... I think my exhaustion is getting the better of me. I'm going to see if the Blades have a spot for me to rest." Martin turned away from her and began to leave, pausing only to say over his shoulder, "You get some sleep too. Thank you again."
"Yes, your Highness," Carolara lightheartedly called after him. It felt strange saying it, but she didn't doubt that it was even stranger for Martin. He had a lot of adjusting to do. But where did this all leave her? What now?
Finally, when she'd had enough of the cold, she approached the large wooden doors and entered the fortress. The first thing she noticed was the fire and she made a beeline for it, past the rows of tables and benches. The main hall was quite large; a high peaked ceiling, huge fireplace, and the furniture suggested it was both meeting place and dining hall. The few Blades that were in there respectfully nodded her way as she passed, Jauffre among them. Carolara had just taken a seat in one of the chairs when a clay cup was held in her view, contents steaming.
"Lavender tea," Jauffre said, pulling one of the other chairs a bit closer and sitting down with his own cup. "Can't have you getting ill."
"Thanks," she replied, taking a sip. It was very strong, but delightful, and warmed her all the way to her toes. "Any ideas on how to find the Amulet, let alone steal it back?"
"I've sent a Blades agent to the Imperial City to investigate where the assassins might be hiding out, but we're still awaiting word from him. However, I wanted to ask you something." Carolara just tilted her head quizzically, looking at him over the rim of her cup, so he went on. "You have proven yourself a loyal servant of the Empire, as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin's side during this crisis. As the Grandmaster of the Blades, I would be honored to accept you into our order. Will you join us?"
The smaller Breton raised a brow, a somewhat skeptical look on her face. "You realize I'm... ah, well, me and the law... well, you know."
"That very well may be, but that is in the past. I am offering you a future. You've dealt with the enemy and their Gates directly; we could use your skill set." Jauffre swirled the remaining tea in his own cup before finishing it. "All you must do is be sworn to the service and protection of the Emperor, as the mortal representative of the dragon-blood of the divine Talos."
"You know what?" Carolara said at length. "I'll do it."