Yeah, a big edit in the coming.
I -really- wasn't satisfied with my previous version of chapter 16, so I decided to rework it and flesh it out better. I hope you enjoy this better than the previous 'version'. Gods know that I find it more satisfying despite its twist of events for the worse.
Please let me know what you think!
Chapter 16
The Augur of Dunlain hovered over Tolfdir whom he intended to protect, but when four, Thalmor battle-mages leapt forward and used their magic against him, Colette cried for him to get away. But the surge of energy he released had cost him an immense amount of power and he was too weak to get away from the High Elves' hold on him.
"Let the Augur go!" Colette shrieked. "He's only trying to protect us!"
The Augur's aura of light flickered as he tried to get away from the battle-mages' magical hold on him but they were too powerful and he howled in pain as they tore at the very fabric that enabled his existence as they strengthened their hold on him.
"Your endeavors will only lead to destruction!" The Augur of Dunlain yelled at the High Elf, who stood unmoving, clad in black and golden robes made of silk. "I can't allow this! I demand you stop at once, I-,"
The battle-mages increased their pressure on the Augur of Dunlain whose light dimmed in response as he made an odd, whimpering sound.
"You're hurting him, you bastards! Cowards!" Faralda snarled.
Interesting…They care about this thing? Taurmillan was nevertheless displeased over this development and he glared at Cirilonde over his shoulder. What else are you hiding?
"Well, what have you to say for yourself?" His voice had lowered to a venomous, barely audible whisper, grinding his teeth when the Augur tried to put up a fight once more. "Contain that damned thing and get it away from here!" He snapped at the battle-mages, who immediately obeyed his command.
"I yield! Cease your magic at once!" The Augur pleaded as the core of his being became visible but the Thalmor didn't care and as they pushed him back deeper into the Midden, the Augur of Dunlain slowly dissipated into a small, flickering and contained light.
"He only meant to protect Tolfdir, you animal!" Cirilonde roared, infuriated. "Don't you even realize what you've done?! Let me help him, he's going to bleed to death!"
Tolfdir lay curled up on the ground, clutching the terrible wound from which the dagger still protruded. The blood that poured from it, staining the tile and ice red in no time. The High Elf made to break free from the guards' hold on her.
"Animal?" Taurmillan raised a brow. "He is a heretic and I will do as I please with them until they cooperate! Take her away!"
"Get your damned claws off me!" Cirilonde snarled and she made to punch one of the guards, but his colleague had seen her make the move to do so and hit her in the lower back with a spell that made her body go numb and knocked her out.
"Master…" Sylva made to get up and join her Lord Exarch but he glared at her.
"Get out of my sight," he said to her and she made sure she hurried to do so, for she could tell his patience was wearing very thin and she didn't want to be the victim of it. Tolfdir glared up at the High Elf who towered over him after stepping closer. "It would seem that you have been hiding something here after all." There was no mistake to Taurmillan's soft voice, which held a venomous undertone. Tolfdir initially wondered why the High Elf raised his hand, but then felt how invisible talons lift him from the ground. He made to resist their grasp but the invisible claws only dug deeper into his flesh and held him in place and he glared at the Lord Exarch.
"Just what do you want from us?" Tolfdir snarled. "We have nothing of interest here. The Augur meant but to protect me as we are protective of him."
"Yes, quite the interesting appearance, no doubt," Taurmillan replied, clearly displeased. "But it makes me wonder what else you have been hiding here from me. And let me make sure you know that my patience is running very thin. I know that an artefact is hidden away here."
The invisible talons tugged at the dagger in his shoulder and Tolfdir grimaced from the pain. "Even if such a damned thing were here, do you honestly think any one of us would ever tell you?"
The old Nord's body involuntarily tensed when Taurmillan stepped closer to him. He definitely did not like the smirk that played on the High Elf's lip, who placed the tips of his fingers on Tolfdir's forehead. "Perhaps not willingly…" he purred. His eyes glittered wickedly when the old Nord hissed in pain and his whole body went rigid. In spite of that, Tolfdir stared Taurmillan down, struggling against the High Elf's mind who sought to invade the Nord's. "I assure you, however, that the more you resist, the more it will hurt…"
"Never!" Tolfdir spat, grinding his teeth because he really wanted to kick or punch the High Elf, who was clearly far too powerful for him. He did not just hold his body but slowly and surely, his mind a prisoner as well. Taurmillan's mind was powerful and wicked and it was as though razor-sharp blades tore at Tolfdir's mental defenses. Though he put up quite the fight, it was futile, for he couldn't handle the strain anymore and blood poured from his nose and eyes, forcing him to give in to the High Elf's overwhelming power.
Tolfdir and Mirabelle were demonstrating their alteration spells to a small group of students. Savos Aren had risen to the rank of Arch-Mage and they were all celebrating. The meeting they had when the Thalmor announced the arrival of one of their own…These were but a few fragments of his long life's memories and he could feel Taurmillan search his mind for what he wanted. Cirilonde and Tolfdir made their way into an ancient, forgotten passage hidden away in Saarthal, where they found the Eye, guarded by a Draugr Warlord
Tolfdir's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he begged if any Divines had mercy, this would be over soon. Never in all his life, nor could he imagine that anything would be as excruciating as this. Taurmillan clearly didn't care and he mercilessly pressured Tolfdir's frail mind more.
The Eye of Magnus was taken to the College, who soon possessed Ancano but he was freed by Cirilonde and a mysterious Dark Elf, using a powerful staff. Ancano was defeated but Cirilonde pleaded with them to spare the Thalmor's life. Taurmillan felt a pang tear at his chest….Surely not?! The old Nord seemed to be fighting back now, intent on something, but what?! Tolfdir watched Cirilonde tend to Ancano's wounds and despite bickering, Ancano changed for the better. Over time, Cirilonde's eyes would soften when she saw him, and she would 'glow' whenever he was near…Taurmillan glared at the Nord. No, that couldn't be possible! The old Nord gave Cirilonde a comforting smile and squeezed her shoulder. "Elves…" Cirilonde's cheeks and the tips of her ears glowed, and she turned away in an attempt to hide it, shaking her head. "You were right, I shouldn't have gotten too close, but I couldn't tell him how I feel."
Taurmillan tore his grasp away from Tolfdir. Not only had she unearthed the Eye and Staff of Magnus and protected these humans, but she had grown to love that filthy, lowborn traitor!
Enraged by the old Nord's laughter, Taurmillan grabbed him by the throat himself, tearing the dagger from the gruesome wound and he plunged it into Tolfdir's chest. "You've already lost…" Blood poured from Tolfdir's mouth and new wound, but he sounded triumphant in the face of his death. The High Elf trembled with a rage he had never felt before and his eyes were ablaze with fury. "Sovngarde awaits me, elf…Hell would be too kind for you…"
When Tolfdir's lifeless body slumped to the ground, the silence from the College's mages was broken. Never in the entire history of the College, had such anguished cries of sorrow, rage and despair resounded through its walls.
She loved him…The blood-stained dagger he had held clattered to the ground and he turned on his heel. His robes, coated in blood, billowed as he stormed out of the Midden.
Rain violently clattered down on the Sleeping Giant Inn's roof. Though Delphine had made sure to secure the shutters of the windows, the wind seemed intent to tear them from their hinges. It wasn't the ruckus of the storm outside that made her jump to a start, however. She reached for the blade under her bed and she carefully crept to the door of her chambers. There was no doubt about it that if anything had snuck its way into the inn, it could perhaps hear the pounding of her heart and how she strained to contain her breathing to a calm.
I know I heard footsteps… This definitely wasn't a late wanderer, for they would often announce themselves. Nor would they linger…or had it been her imagination? She took a position near the wall to slowly and carefully open the door with the tip of her blade. Her eyes narrowed to adapt to the darkness and she peered into the tavern.
Though nothing seemed out of the ordinary, save for the rhythmic rainfall on the roof and the shutters clattering against the wood, there was absolutely nothing. Her heart and mind didn't share the sentiment, though.
I'm getting way too paranoid.
An irritated and frustrated growl escaped her lips. She was spooking herself like a child. She made her way to the bar and grabbed a bottle of mead, of which she didn't even bother to pour the contents into a goblet like she always did, and drank straight from the bottle. Only now did she notice how her hand had gone white, bathed in cold sweat from cramping the handle of her sword so tightly.
It had been two days now, and 'on edge' was but an understatement in regards to how she had been feeling. There's no way anyone saw me or know I was involved…She took a few deep breaths and stared at the bottle of mead she had almost emptied in one go. You've got this. He'll come back. No one knew you were even there…
She finished the bottle and when she felt calm enough and wasn't shaking as badly anymore, she made her way back to her room. She had just made her way in when she caught the flurry of black and gold from the corner of her eye that struck her in the lower back, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Instinctively, she made to lash her blade at the assailant, but her body did not obey. She prepared to hit the ground, but the figure caught her.
When she saw that he was a Thalmor, she made to scream, not only enraged he had caught her off-guard in such a cowardly way, but also terrified of what he may do to her. But her scream was muffled as he covered her mouth with a gloved hand and the Thalmor dragged her into her room, to her bed. Her eyes widened to alarm and she bit down on the High Elf's gloved hand with all her strength. He howled and Delphine fell on the bed, hurting her ribs quite badly as she hit its wooden frame. Before she could even so much as scream for help, he'd grabbed her by the throat and shoved his glove in her mouth.
"I'm not here to kill you!" the green-eyed Thalmor hissed. "Ganir sent me. The Dragonborn. So don't scream when I remove this, understood?" Despite her disbelief, Delphine nodded and he indeed removed the glove from her mouth, which he cleaned with disgust. "Honestly, that you had me resort to that…" He swung his hand after inspecting whether she'd drawn blood or not. "He told me you'd be paranoid but not that you'd bite like some kind of savage."
"What would you do were you in my shoes, Thalmor?" Delphine spat. "You killed all of my friends…People I considered family."
"I could say the same of your lot." The High Elf's voice and demeanor had calmed down, but the undertone of anger was audible. "Not to mention the innocent bystanders, or did that conveniently slip your mind. We're all the same in your eyes, are we not?"
Delphine and he stared each other down and the tension was most palpable. Delphine felt no remorse or pity for what she or her comrades had done. Sacrifices had to be made if it meant a setback for the Thalmor.
"I'm assuming that since Ganir sent you, you're Ondolemar of Markarth?" she finally asked.
"Yes." His response was curt. "The Dragonborn is on his way to the College with my…former associate to tend to a most urgent matter. For us, time is of the essence as well. The Thalmor have tracked down a certain Blade named Esbern."
"Esbern?!" Delphine would've shot up had she been able to. "Where is he?!"
"He's hiding away in the Ratway Vaults in Riften. If we are quick, we should be ahead of the Thalmor. We are to leave immediately." With that, he dispelled the paralysis that had struck Delphine but she didn't get up right away as her legs were tingling and she didn't trust her feet yet…or the High Elf.
"Why are you helping us?" She asked, slowly straightening up so she could sit on the bed.
His eyes narrowed. "Do I look like I have time for your questions?" he spat. "We need to get going. NOW."
Still stiff and sore, Delphine got up and made her way to the hidden cellar. There, she gathered her things while putting her armor and after leaving Orgnar a note, she made her way outside where the Thalmor waited for her. They rode off at full speed, leaving Riverwood behind them as they followed the roads to the South-East of Skyrim, to the city of Riften. For hours, the rain would beat down on them, chilling Delphine to the bone. Esbern. I can't let them take Esbern!
Ondolemar made a sharp turn at a crossroads and left the beaten path. She understood why, given that it was too risky to be seen because it no doubt would raise suspicion to see a Breton and a Thalmor race somewhere alongside one another. Whenever she felt like she couldn't keep up any longer, she but had to think of how the Thalmor, Ancano, had looked when he was freed from the Embassy and she could only imagines what horrors awaited Esbern if she gave up now and pushed her mind and body's limits until finally the skies cleared and they saw an estate situated on an island in the distance. They had avoided all the roads as best they could to avoid being seen, but few travelers wandered the roads nowadays, even when they passed a wood mill west of the estate on the island.
Her sides stung and her legs burned, but finally, she caught up with Ondolemar, whose brow was coated in sweat. Their horses' nostrils were wide and steam emanated from their sweat-bathed bodies, grateful that their riders had finally slowed to a walking pace.
"Look, I've got to ask. What is so important that the Dragonborn would entrust someone like you to retrieve Esbern with me?" Delphine asked once she'd caught her breath. "No offense…"
"Because he felt no inclination to help you personally but knew that this Esbern was of importance at the same time. Consider it a favor." Ondolemar replied without looking at her. "He wasn't too pleased you abandoned him."
Delphine groaned. "I had too! What if we got caught?!"
Ondolemar stared straight ahead of him, the expression in his eyes hardening. "I have no desire to discuss this with the likes of you."
Aside from saving Ancano's life, Ondolemar found that after contemplating the matter, that the whole concept of a Dunmer Dragonborn seemed rather preposterous, but most foreboding and it very much shook his firm beliefs that no other race could hold or achieve such power akin to a god. But this development was too important and prominent to ignore if it had already caused such a string of events. The Eye of Magnus had been unearthed to be hidden by the Psijic. Dragons had reappeared and even the Thalmor did not know how, nor had they qualms about torturing one of their own for information on what was beyond their grasp and control. As maverick and unconventional as Ancano was, Ondolemar held a deep respect for him and considered him not only brilliant by Altmer standards, but also a friend. Had it been any other associate amongst his ranks, Ondolemar knew that he wouldn't have been as open minded to the matter. Ancano could perhaps be cold, calculating and aloof, but he definitely knew what he was doing.
They closed in on Riften, which had once been a great city; a hub of commerce where Morrowind and Cyrodiil trade flourished until a Jarl angered its inhabitants because of his corruption and greed. A bloody revolt had nearly burned Riften the ground, but over the years its people had rebuilt, but the city was never restored to its former glory. Ondolemar eyed the city's wall and its guard with a scrunched up nose. "This place doesn't just look it, but it reeks of a cesspool for crime and Auri-El knows for all kinds of scum."
"All the more perfect of a place for Esbern to hide," Delphine said, though she shared his sentiment. "That is, if the dossiers are correct."
Delphine pulled her hood up to further obscure her face from the guards whose distrust and hate was palpable when they saw that she was accompanied by a Thalmor and they crossed their halberds immediately. "Halt. The city is closed."
"I doubt that," Ondolemar narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you should know better than to get in my way. I am here on matters of great political importance with the city's ruling body for the Thalmor."
"Right, and I'm Jarl Elisif the Fair," The guard sneered, his eyes hidden below the chain and iron coif he wore. "As if the Jarl would want to have anything to do with the likes of you, Elf."
"Yeah, you heard 'im. Get outta here knife-ears. Your lot isn't welcome here," The other guard chimed in, pointing his halberd at the odd pair.
Ondolemar glared at them both. "And what makes you imbeciles think I refer to the Jarl. I'm talking about Maven Black-Briar, who will most certainly be displeased if she found out about this incident…"
The guards exchanged insecure glances with one another. Whether they were informed of this or not, no one was foolish enough to risk Maven Black-Briar's wrath by crossing her. She was the true, ruling body of Riften from behind the scenes, for she was connected with both the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood; two organizations you didn't want to trifle with…
"We were just testing to make sure you weren't some imposter," The guard laughed nervously as he stepped aside. "Bad for business if you were, eh?"
"Yeah, bad for business." The other quickly chimed and unlocked the gate. "Get on right in."
The bluff had been most unconventional, and Delphine didn't believe it actually worked, but the gates were opened for them and they made their way in. Now all that remains is finding you in the Ratway Vaults, Esbern…We're coming, buddy.
"-As in accordance with the accusations you have been proven guilty of, you, Lord Anciel Valanocke, are hereby sentenced to death, to be executed immediately."
Falintaor visibly paled and his whole body tensed, but he remained standing tall and proud. His wife, Ciryamenwe fell back into the seat as if struck by an unseen force. Anciel, on the other hand, while visibly shaken to the core, stood tall with his chin held high. Cirilonde shook her head in disbelief, but before she could even so much as make a sound, her father had pulled her against him so her sobs would be stifled. Her hand held and squeezed that of her mother.
"This wasn't his fault!" She choked out. But Falintaor pushed her away, forcing her to watch Anciel be taken away down the aisle outside. She so desperately wanted to reach for him, to hold her brother a final time, but as he walked by, guided by two guards, she saw the thousand-yard stare in her brother's eyes and he walked straight past them.
Rather than a swift execution, the Thalmor's Death Watch were set to make an example out of him and began to torture him for all to see. She cried for mercy until her voice went hoarse and fought against the guards who tried to push her back. "Anciel! Anciel can you hear your sister?! I love you!" She cried and saw that while he had heard her, he could no longer see her. Blood poured from the sockets where his eyes had been.
She had been so distraught that she had not noticed that the crowd behind her had parted for Taurmillan, who grabbed hold of Cirilonde and tore her away from the horrible scene and pulled her against him.
Her eyes went wide, terrified that she had perhaps displeased the son of a Lord Exarch and made to fall to her knees when he pulled her right back to her feet. "Please, Lord Highal!" Her gaze met with his, pleading. "Surely there's something you can do, Lord Commander! This wasn't my brother's fault!"
Taurmillan had glanced to the gruesome proceedings of the execution, clearly disgusted. Yet, he did not flinched as Anciel let out the most primal, terrible howl of pain she had ever heard as his arm was torn from his body. The Lord Commander grabbed hold of Cirilonde and turned her away in an attempt to shield her from having to witness this, but it was too late. She had already seen and heard too much. "I beg of you Lord Highal! I'll do anything!" She buried her face against his chest.
She had not seen the flicker in his eyes as he held her tighter against him and inhaled her scent. His whole body thrived on feeling her so close against him and so…vulnerable. "I wish I could, Milady Valanocke, but this is even beyond my powers." He cupped her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. "Your father has already requested the aid of mine."
His other hand stroked her back before his fingers ran through her hair. Anciel's tormented and anguished howls were almost drowned out by the cheers and cries of support and horror. Cirilonde clung to Taurmillan, who met eyes with Lord Valanocke over the distance. Falintaor had worried for where his daughter so suddenly disappeared too. His jaw clenched and his heart tightened when he saw that the young Lord Highal held his grieving daughter. Even honor comes with a price, my good man… Taurmillan smirked at Falintaor as he kissed the top of Cirilonde's head.
Ciryamenwe saw nothing of the interaction. She stood frozen and proud, tears streaming down her face as she beheld the blood-stained execution platform and the trail the horses had left behind as they dragged her broken, beaten and dying son away. He would be lucky to die before the horses were found exhausted and his body torn apart by the wolves.
"I beg your forgiveness, my Lord," Cirilonde made to pull away from Taurmillan, but he held her in place. His gloved hands swept the tears away and he shushed her with the soft purr of his voice.
"Come what may come, my Cirilonde, I will see what I can do for your family…"
Cirilonde had woken up in the Arch-Mage's tower and after the most painful of all her memories resurfaced, she felt even more nauseous. She had no idea what they had done to the Augur and if Tolfdir was all right or not, but she feared the worst. Just what was driving Taurmillan to commit these atrocities, thinking the ends would justify the means? This was no conquest! He was leaving nothing but a trail of death and destruction in his wake.
I have to stop him! She tried to get up, but her vision and mind still was blurry and her body wasn't very willing to cooperate. No doubt, she was still under the influence and the after effects of the spell she had been struck by. She leaned against the wall for support as she made her way to the door to see if she could perhaps get out or find some other means of escape, but she shielded herself with her arms when the door to the Arch-Mage's quarters were blown to smithereens by a gust of white-hot flames. The two guards that had been posted at the door were flung against the wall by the impact of the blow and slumped to the floor. She had no idea whether they were alive of dead, but for their sake, hoped for the latter.
She squinted her eyes and waited for the smoke to clear and she froze in disbelief, shaking her head when she saw it had not been Taurmillan, like she dreaded. "Ancano…" The flames that had engulfed his arms immediately dissipated and he hurried over to her, frowning when she shook her head and backed away from him. "This can't be true…" she began to choke up, overwhelmed by her emotions. "Taurmillan said…"
He grabbed hold of her hands and shushed her, lovingly caressing her face. "It's all right, the fool left me to die…I'm here now…"
He was completely taken by surprise, his eyes widening before closing when she kissed him. He didn't let her pull away and held her against him, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and held on to him, for the chains that bound her hands together didn't permit her the freedom to run her fingers through his hair or stroke his face. She felt as though she was floating in a dream, her mind a blissful haze and it was clear she was as reluctant as he to pull away from the kiss, which left the both of them out of breath. There was a most odd flicker in his eyes she had never seen before when she stroked his face. "I never thought I'd see you again…" Her mind then seemed to gather itself. "Taurmillan! We need to get out of here before he finds out, I-,"
He placed a thumb on her lips to shush her, holding her other hand against his chest. "Not to worry, my dear." In the distance, she could hear the cries and clash of battle between the Thalmor and the College's Mages and Ganir. "No need to worry for him. He's quite occupied for the time being, as you can no doubt tell. Where is the Staff?"
"We need to get into the labyrinth. I hid it there," she said. "We need but to follow the trail of flowers-!"
She had made to walk past him to get out of the Arch-Mage's tower, but he jerked her back and she was initially confused before her eyes widened with the dreadful realization that as the world around her seemed to shift back to reality and she hadn't kissed Ancano, but Taurmillan, whose eyes had thinned to slits and shoved her against the wall.
"Sylva!" He bellowed. The Wood Elf was reluctant to adhere to her Master's summons, shaking in her boots for she had never seen him lose his composure like this. "You and Thorelas are to go into the Midden and find the Staff, following a trail of flowers my betrothed seems to have left…" He glared at Cirilonde again. "Bring the Staff to me. At once."
"Y-Yes my Lord Exarch!" Sylva scurried off to obey her Master's orders.
"As for you…" Cirilonde winced, readying herself for whatever he may do but then saw that his robes were stained with blood. "Your Arch-Mage seemed rather triumphant to share how you felt about that lowborn filth. But not once have you ever touched me like you just have, thinking it was he…"
"What did you do to Tolfdir?!" Her voice shook.
"Dead. Like your precious Ancano," he said icily. "And pray to the Divines my rage has subsided once I am through with your friends and have the Staff because I do not take kindly to your betrayal."
"No! Leave them out of it!" Black dots danced before her eyes when he backhanded her so hard she was thrown to the floor, only to be lifted by a pair of invisible, razor-sharp talons that held her in a chokehold. "You heartless murderer, I will never love you!"
The hands tightened their hold and her breath came in squeaks as she gulped for air and soon went limp, having passed out from the lack of oxygen. Taurmillan froze and his rage subsided. Had he…? No, she was still breathing… He made to go to her but when his keen ears picked up on the cries of alarm, he raised a fiery ward to surround his betrothed and made his way down the steps to see what in the blazing plains of Oblivion was going on.
I hope you enjoyed reading this despite the sad occurence. Again, let me know what you think and have a good day!
