Chapter 2: Mother's Lost Child
"A…retrieval?" Nazir repeated in nothing less than a befuddled, almost disbelieving, tone.
Tressa sighed.
"Okay, look," she said, "I know I'M the Listener, but you lot need to start doing some listening too. I'm tired of repeating myself."
Nazir put his forehead down into his palm, and from his own sigh, it was painfully obvious he was trying to be patient with their supposedly high ranking sister.
"Just…," he lifted his face back up and spoke nearly a little too firm, "Just tell us what you mean by retrieval. No dramatic pauses. No pranks. No witty backtalk…please. My Listener."
Tressa flung her hand up in a motion that, if one could actually see her face, the expression accompanying that hand would have said, "Whatever do you mean?"
However, she relieved Nazir of any further antics. She straightened in her chair and cleared her throat for serious discussion.
"Our Mother has tasked us for the finding and retrieving-- alive, I add-- of a Breton woman by the name of Sybil Jullamont. Her last known location being just outside of Evermore, in High Rock. However, it's possible she's moved on further in--"
"She's not an invoker?" Nazir interrupted with this question.
Tressa slunked back into her chair and folded her arms.
"Gods, Nazir," she grumbled, "You ask me to explain straightaway and then you go and interrupt me…"
She slunked forward and made a noise that must have been her blowing air through her lips.
She straightened back up and spoke impatiently.
"No, it's not a normal request to speak to an invoker! Listen to the Listener. Listen. Mother is asking us to retrieve this woman and bring her here. By any force necessary-- except death. She wants her alive, and lucky for Sybil, Mother wants her in one piece. But fun for us. She most certainly wants her no matter who we have to cut through. That's 'bout the only elaboration Mother gave. She tends to be cryptic like that. I'm using context clues here to guess that this Sybil is probably well guarded, but…Wait, Cicero?"
The jester's deep listening stare snapped to an awareness of being called upon.
"Yes, Listener?"he asked.
"You're old..--" Tressa wildly stated out of nowhere, to which Cicero scoffed before the girl could fully even state this out of nowhere uncalled for remark.
He gave her a puzzled and offended look all in one, which prompted Tressa to straighten up even further and wave her hands.
"Old to the Brotherhood, I mean," she corrected quickly but then corrected once again, "…I mean, you've been among the Brotherhood longer than we--amongst the Night Mother longer…Ugh…Sybil Jullafont…Does she ring a bell? An old runaway or enemy or something of the like that has been awaiting trial, judgement,…punishment?"
Cicero seemed to think only for a moment.
"Cicero's never heard that name, no," he said shaking his head. Then he nodded.
"But whatever the reason," he added, "it doesn't matter. If Mother asked for this woman, then we must go get this woman."
"I know, I know," Tressa nodded as well, "I'm just curious. Dear Mother really didn't elaborate much at all, and I wonder just how dangerous this Breton is…"
Cicero reached over and placed a hand on Tressa's shoulder.
"Cicero will be more than glad to accompany and protect you, Listener," the jester offered with an air of poking fun, "… if you're that scared."
Tressa twitched her shoulder out from under his hand fast.
"Oh, shut up," the girl retorted, but she then grabbed his arm as he started to pull away.
"But you are coming with me," she agreed, "I need a yakety yak to keep the long trip lively."
The jester gave her a smile.
"Sure thing, my Listener," he said making a move with his hand towards the top of her head…
She attempted to hold his hand away but was failing that strength test.
"Don't do it," she warned, but her attempt to hold his arm back was failing.
His hand hovered over the top of her head and inched closer and closer…
"Don't you do it," Tressa warned, "Ciceroooo. Doon't do it."
Her muscles gave out under the weight of his arm and he succeeded in patting the top of her head in a patronizing manner.
Tressa batted him away like he was a swarm of flies.
"You're such an ass," she huffed and sank back in her chair again.
The jester sat back in his own chair with the utmost smugness plastered across his face.
Nazir, who still sat annoyed with chin in one hand, tapped the fingers of his other hand upon the table in wait for this stupid merriment to end.
He did mumble out that he didn't disagree with Tressa's remark, but he waited in patient impatience for the two to refocus.
Babette; however, spoke up before he did.
"So, you've no idea much about this?" she asked of the Listener.
"Nope," Tressa shook her head, "Like I said, the Night Mother really didn't elaborate much. I wish she did, seeing just how strange a request this is, but she apparently found no need to…or deemed what information she did provide as enough. Or perhaps she just needs to rest. Must be exhausting being dead."
Nazir cleared his throat and chimed in.
"High Rock is quite a journey away," he said, "And this IS quite unusual. Is it wise YOU go on this journey?"
"Why not?" Tressa shrugged.
Nazir mimicked her shrug.
"I don't know, Listener," he said, "It's just…so unusual. And far—"
"Aw, you'd miss me."
"Listener…It's just…Why not send any of the initiates on this?"
"Nazir, I'm surprised," Tressa replied to this suggestion, "You of all people suggesting such a high order on the newbies??"
"Is it a high order," he responded, "Or just an unusual one?"
Tressa was still and quiet for a couple seconds.
"I don't know," she spat impatiently, "Does it matter? Should we risk fuddling it up with a newbie that might forget not to kill her? Get killed by her or any of her friends? Or slip up in any way that will alert her she's being hunted? Or simply get lost?"
Babette chimed in without a moment's hesitation.
"Confident you won't?"
Cicero snapped a quick gritted reply before anyone else even absorbed the remark.
"Babette!" he seethed.
The unchild crinkled her nose a little at the snap, but quickly offered her apology.
"Sorry, Listener."
Tressa was again still and quiet, and for a little longer than she was previously, but she glossed over Babette's remark and spoke again.
"Cicero and I will go," she asserted.
Nazir conceded whatever ill he had about it too, possibly to avoid any further remarks against the Listener, and simply asked, "When are you expected to depart?"
Tressa sighed and gave a shrug.
"I suppose as soon as possible," she answered, but sighed even harder after.
"…I just got home, though," she said and sounded slightly subdued, "I'm exhausted. I'd have to camp down too soon upon leaving here, … so I'm going to assume Mother will be patient while I rest and make preparations here at home. Maybe perhaps she'll provide more information before I embark …I'm certainly hoping so, because this IS quite the journey to make on such little intel--"
Tressa was suddenly interrupted by Aphid's deep voice intercepting from the hallway entrance.
"I have a few scrolls that might be of aid for you," he said and blatantly came out from the eavesdropping.
All the ones who sat at the table were now glaring at him for his intrusion.
Tressa noticeably had to grab Cicero by his arm to prevent him from acting upon whatever his dangerous expression was warning to do.
Nazir, though, stood uninhibited from his chair, but only folded his arms sternly.
"Aphid!" the Redguard scolded, "I would have expected this sort of childish behavior and disobedience from Kor, but--"
"Yes, I apologize," Aphid interrupted the reprimand but offered his apology for that as well, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't mean to be so impudent right now, but I want to be of help…and of rank. I can't do that unless I am of use. If you don't want my skills along with you, that's fine, but I do still have something that can be of use for you."
His sky blue eyes looked at them earnestly. Determined.
They all still looked at him in frustration, … but Tressa finally gave a nod.
"Fine," she said and motioned for him to step over, "What do you have to offer for this quest?"
Aphid didn't step closer, but he made a motion towards the hall and replied, "Travel Scrolls. For portals. They're in my pack in the initiate quarters."
Tressa cocked her head. "…What now? Scrolls for portals? Since when? When has this been a thi--"
Babette explained it to her.
"They're fairly new, Listener," she spoke in, "but I've heard of them. They are a bit rare, but are of much easier access, if you have the money… than learning the old spell, as most mages of today can never hope to achieve mastering gateways. Those who still dare to try usually end up with their body parts gruesomely scattered in wildly different locations."
Babette explained the mechanics of these scrolls further.
"The scrolls temporarily open a pathway of instantaneous travel. Hold a scroll. Think clearly of a location you wish to go and it will open a gate to step through. But it can only be a place you've been before, as you need to see it in your mind. Also, it will not activate should anything you consider an enemy be nearby—a failsafe created to keep you from being followed through. Although that does mean you're stuck until you dispatch the threat or clear away a considerable distance."
Tressa stood up and placed her hands on the table.
"Okay?" she said and her masked face tilted up towards Aphid again, "…Sounds like a one way road. I've never been to Evermore. I was sold to a slaver once on the east outskirts of High Rock. I was very young, though. I don't believe I can recall that location or the roads traveled."
Aphid shook his head and replied, "It could be of use once you're there. Capture this Sybil and bring her back instantly… or should you have need to come home for any reason. Poof. You're home. Step ground in High Rock, but you find you need the help of more siblings? You'll have the recollection you need to port back and forth, so long as you have scrolls. I only have three, by the way. Bought them off a wandering trader."
"With what coin?" Babette asked, "As I said earlier, those things are not some common head of cabbage."
She then mumbled, "I'm surprised some wandering trader had them…"
Nazir prodded to know of this coin matter too, though a little more humorously.
"You and Kor working side jobs we don't know about?" he said and humored, "…can you put a word in for me and the hirer?"
"I traded something pretty valuable…," Aphid half shrugged, "And personal. So, unless you really must know, may I please not have to remember what, so maybe I won't regret—"
Tressa slapped the table, almost startling everyone again.
"Why!" she shouted at Aphid in what seemed to be clear agitation.
The tall Nord jumped slightly, but looked at her expecting a continuous of her exclamation.
"Why…what, Listener?"
"…Why didn't you give me one when I went on the supply trip?!"
Aphid tilted his head slightly, but then Tressa saw him do exactly as Cicero had done earlier… looking as if he was glancing through the very walls at the town of Dawnstar.
Tressa snapped her fingers and pointed at him in a threatening fashion.
"Don't. You. Daaare. Say. It," she warned, "…Go get your scrolls then. Go on."
Aphid raised a brow in confusion at her agitation, but he then nodded obediently and turned for the hall.
Tressa was just about to sit again, when Aphid excusing himself as he passed someone in that hall caught her, and everyone else's, attention.
Tressa shot back up and folded her arms.
"Really?!" she barked, "Whoever else is eavesdropping, step out right now."
Yet another Nord popped out from hiding.
Tressa growled.
"Ooof course it's you... Kor," she said.
He held no apology or remorse.
Kor's blue eyes gleamed with pride and he mockingly swung his braids in a noisy, whipping manner.
"Ha!" he laughed, "You lot should be proud of our ability to go undetected by you so called elite assassins. Look at this sunlit hair. Look at how much noise I make. Either I'm that skilled to conceal it or you guys aren't as high ranking as you made yourselves to seem."
That attitude and comment had Cicero rise from his chair and about to go at the Nord, but Tressa grabbed his sleeve and tugged him to her attention.
"Wait, rabid merry man," the Listener halted.
The jester narrowed his eyes upon her and put his hands to his hips in an impatient manner.
Tressa shrugged, "Perhaps he has something to offer as well?"
Kor, however, smirked and shook his head.
"Nope," he said and intentionally widened his grin at the mad jester who had turned his dangerous gaze back towards the young upstart.
That young Nord pointed his thumb at the hall.
"Me and Tsuni are just plain ole eavesdroppers," he said.
Tressa flung her hands out, surprised.
"Sunny?!" she exclaimed as if betrayed, "Wha- No?!"
Another of the new initiates, a female Khajiit with golden eyes and desert sand fur, a bipedal lionness for a lack of any better description of the cat creature, cautiously stepped out from the hall.
She meekly spoke with her purrish voice.
"This one offers such sincere apologies. Most sincere," she said as her ears pointed down and she shamefully lowered her head. Her hands were clasped to her chest in a sure sign of sincerity.
Tressa's hands flopped to her sides.
"Awe, Sunny, no," she whined, "I like you. Don't get in cahoots with the likes of him."
The Khajiit then fiddled with her claws in a nervous fashion.
"Not this one's intention, dear Listener," she said, "Tsuni shamefully fell to curiosity when she saw the brother Nords. This one apologies once again."
Kor thumped the Khajiit on the ear with a roll of his eyes.
"Bootlicker," he commented.
The two quickly had their eyes on Cicero, however, when the jester stepped away from the table and a few steps towards them.
Despite Kor's bold demeanor moments ago, he did back step a bit. Just the same as Tsuni did.
The jester peered at them with punishing intent.
"Insolence. The both of you," he scolded, "Tsuni's sincerity is what's saving the cat for her curiosity, but YOU-."
He pointed at the Nord.
"Cicero has no patience left for you," he said.
Kor attempted his smirk again but the corners of his mouth twitched just a slight with uncertainty.
"So, um," the Nord attempted a humored retort, "Is this where we break the tension with whips and chains?"
Cicero didn't laugh.
His glare did not waver.
A tense moment hung a second longer before the jester gave an up tilted nod and pointed towards their Sanctuary's torture chamber.
"Yes," he answered.
The Nord frowned instantly and visibly paled.
"Wait-what?" he stammered, "Are you seriou—Is he serious?"
"Ooh, uh oh," Cicero taunted and tsked, "Someone hasn't been studying themselves for their family. Of our ways. Of our rules… of our… penalties. You truly are a rotten initiate."
"And you are a rotten jokester of a jester," Kor replied, "This is a joke, right? Tress—Listener? He can't do this? Nazir? … Babette?"
Their silence sank upon him.
As soon as Kor locked eyes with Cicero again, a frightened yelp nearly escaped the young man, as the Imperial clown stamped his foot loudly upon the ground and shouted, "GO!"
But in great relief for Kor, Cicero wasn't pointing towards the torturous chamber.
He switched his directing finger for the Nord to retreat to the initiate quarters.
Kor obeyed that without remark and hurried away. He nearly bumped into Aphid who was returning with the scrolls.
Aphid casually side stepped him, not paying any mind to the matter.
Which might have been better, too, for Kor's sake.
Aphid had already disciplined him himself just last week for one too many disrespectful remarks.
Kor was sure the lingering click of his wrist was absolutely from having to write those apology lines over and over and over … and over…
Thankfully, the big brother was unaware of ruckus this time--although it was much more likely he did hear every bit of it, but was electing to let it slide on account of staying focused on the task at hand.
Either way, Kor had clambered away unscathed and Aphid entered the main chamber again just as Cicero turned his attention to Tsuni and was giving her an unthreatening shooing wave.
The Khajiit nodded and dismissed herself, politely, to the initiate quarters as well.
Aphid gave her an acknowledging nod and partial smile as they passed one another, and then he went on the table.
He set upon it the small satchel that held the scrolls.
"Here you are, ma'am," he said, "Anything else I have to offer—potions, trinkets, food, my arrows, my life... All, of course, are at your disposal as well."
Nazir stepped over to the Nord and patted him on the back.
"Why can't that skeever of a brother be like you," he said.
Aphid seemed to almost frown but then gave a bland smile and replied, "...Or like that Tsuni. She's sweet. Believe it or not, Kor used to be…"
"Oh, she is too sweet for us," Babette commented, but with a tone of endearment.
Tressa chuckled to that.
"Sweeter than any moon sugar," she remarked, "But Gods, I love that Sunny."
The Listener then cleared her throat and clapped her hands for attention.
"Alright, back on track," she said, "So. Three scrolls. Hmm."
She bobbed her head side to side for a quick second in thought.
"I will reserve one for emergency. Always plan for emergency. One for travel from High Rock to here. And one should I need to travel back from here to High Rock. I'm definitely going to look for more of these while we travel. I never even heard of these things."
Babette spoke up again.
"You can learn the spell," she suggested, "You've been tuning your magicka more lately, right? I'm sure you, the almighty chosen, will become a master of the arcane as well."
Tressa reacted defensively on the matter.
"I'm trying!" she snapped, "It's not that easy, you know! All these different categories and branches and—"
"Alright, Listener," Babette held her hands up, "I'm sorry. I was just joking. I know it's a bit of a sore subject. I was going to suggest maybe seeing if the College has the scrolls to sell--"
"We do not talk about that place!" Tressa hissed.
"Okay, yes," Babette waved the matter with her hands, "Sore subject."
"Literally," Tressa huffed and the lens of her mask locked on to Cicero.
The jester shrugged.
"Cicero suffered more damage than you that day, dear Listener," he said, "I held my patience quite well as you zapped me repeatedly…"
"The discharges were not intentional!" Tressa interjected, "I was warming up!"
"Oh yes," Cicero lazily tossed his reply, but grew increasingly more frustrated as he added to it, "and then you shredded that poor test giver to pieces…with a supposedly simple shock spell…AND zapped patient Cicero AGAIN."
"I apologized so many times!" Tressa stomped, "You didn't have to chase me down when I was already trying to evade the college, and guards, and even that weirdly combative chicken. And then you go and put me in an arm lock and THRASH my palm with a damned snowberry switch!? You're lucky I still let you tag along with me, you monster!"
Cicero blew a slight raspberry with his lips.
"It was warranted," he answered unapologetically, "There's just so many times Cicero can let even the Listener assault him."
Tressa flung herself back down in her chair in an obvious pout.
"Yeah, yeah," she sighed, "It's why I didn't zap you into oblivion like that poor lady...By Sithis, you nearly thwacked my hand in two, though. Such a stupid day to wear cloth gloves."
She idly poked at her leathered clad palm at that.
"But grand I am at destruction spells," she said.
Cicero rolled his eyes and patted her shoulder.
"Yes, yes. You're the best, Listener," he said, clearly patronizing her.
She jerked her shoulder from him once again today and recollected her focus back on the scrolls and the Nord who brought them.
"Thank you, Aphid," she gestured to the him, "I will call upon you again, I'm sure. You have indeed proven useful with this alone. Thank you, again."
Aphid nodded respectfully in return.
"Yes, thank you, Listener. I am glad I was of use," he replied and then turned away and dismissed himself from the commons.
Tressa drummed her fingers on the table in thought, but then she sighed and sat back.
"I need to rest," she said and then leaned forward once again to snatch a wedge of cheese and the half loaf of bread from the table.
"And need to eat," she added. "I am going to retire to my quarters for a bit. We'll discuss and prepare more this evening, after dinner. Right now my thoughts are beginning to mingle with food and bed. See you all for supper~."
With that, Tressa departed to own quarters to snack in private and rest.
About half an hour later, she laid on her bed, having finished her bread and cheese and adorning her mask back to her face.
She simply stared at the ceiling in thought.
Her arm dangled off the side of her bed, idly spinning the water canteen she kept by her nightstand.
She was tossing her thoughts around trying to decide a clearer plan for an unclear quest, but she could feel the cradle of sleep rocking her brain.
The water canteen slipped from her fingers but its thudding on the ground didn't disturb her drift off into slumber.
A veil of blackness and silence blanketed her before she opened her eyes to find herself in a surreal room.
She could tell she was supposedly in a chamber, dark and brooding, but its contents and very design flickered and unfocused in waves that she quickly reasoned was a dream.
And then she realized she could hear a faint voice. Feminine but hoarse.
"Yes, Night Mother?" Tressa called out reflexively.
She couldn't hear it again for a moment, but then it resurfaced a little louder.
Tressa still couldn't quite make out what the voice was saying.
"Mother?" the Listener called out again, "Are you calling to me?"
Tressa wondered for a moment if she could wake herself, if the Night Mother was calling for her to, but she finally distinctly heard something clearer.
"It...End."
Tressa looked all around her self, as if she could hear the voice better if she found it by sight.
"Must…End," the voice grew louder.
The Listener was nearly about to remove her hood to unlatch her mask but suddenly felt, and saw, the heavy presence behind her.
She stared at the intense red glow on the ground before her and then turned to see the grand stained glass windows shining crimson moonlight through.
She was so captivated by it that the sarcophagus standing before her almost didn't register in her line of sight.
Tressa's attention soon fell upon it.
It didn't quite look the same as the Night Mother's sarcophagus in the waking world, but she assumed it to still be hers.
"Mother?" Tressa spoke to it, "…I'm here."
The sarcophagus suddenly jarred open just a slight, and it startled the Listener enough to make her hop back.
The voice spoke up again.
It sounded like it came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"It must end," it said in an insistent manner.
Tressa spoke back as she looked around herself again.
"What? What do you mean?"
Movement from the sarcophagus caught her attention once more.
The unmistakable gnarled and decrepit hands of the Night Mother began clasping at the narrow slit of an opening in the doors.
Tressa felt a unease about it.
She stepped forward just a bit, but then she backed stepped again.
She found herself feeling very unsure…
The voice came again with great urgency, nearly hissing upon her very mind:
"THIS. MUST. END!"
The boom of the sarcophagus bursting open snapped Tressa awake in an instant.
She sat up as quickly as she could and turned her head about to scan the room.
It was her room. Her walls. Her ceiling. Her bed.
She swayed her head a bit and listened for anything.
She only heard the distant chatter and clatter from the other quarters.
For a few moments, she just sat on the edge of her bed, thinking whether or not she should think anything about the dream.
If it was more than that.
Footsteps approaching her door snapped her out the thought.
A rhythmic knock echoed through it and she heard Cicero's sing-song voice from behind it.
"Listeneeer~! I brought your dinneeer~!" he chimed, "Wakey~! Wakey~!"
Tressa stood and stretched out a yawn.
She headed to the door and sang song back with feigned annoyance.
"Oh for Sithis sakey, I'm awakey~."