A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for being patient. School and overall laziness got to me. Plus I'm collabing with a friend to help her make a Pokémon fic so that eats up time too. As well as my new job as a concept artist and blah blah blah I doubt you want to hear this. Now a note about the story, there are a few time skips in the beginning but I think I corrected that later on, so don't kill me over it please x3
Alright, that's all. Enjoy the next installment!
There was a loud moan as the Breton woke from her forced sleep. Her head immediately started to throb, sending shocks of pain down into her sore body. After a moment she opened her eyes to look around the dimly lit cell.
"Hey, hey Karn she's awake!" a feminine voice spoke.
Ysara forced herself to sit as a loud grunting noise sounded not far off. "Karn does not care for the newcomer." a masculine voice, obviously accented with Khajit.
Ysara noted that the voice of Karn came from the cell next to her. While the first voice returned from the Dark Elf dressed in sack cloth that was in the cell across from her.
"Well I care." she said softly, catching the Bretons eye. "What's your name Breton?" she asked.
Ysara blinked, still stunned with waking up on the floor. After a few minutes of silent patience and working her muscles around she decided to answer.
"Ysara Whiteflash." she said, her voice cracking slightly from the lack of saliva generating in her mouth.
The dark elf smiled. "Whiteflash seems a bit odd a last name. I'm Kirari Ducrane." she stated, "There should be a bucket of water to your right in the corner."
The Breton turned, lunging for the bucket as she saw it. It was stale tasting but it quenched her thirst none the less. Once she had drunk a significant amount she sat back with a sigh, glancing back to Kirari with half closed eyes. The elf looked friendly enough, her tone well and meaning, she might as well give the other women the benefit of the doubt.
"It's a combination." She stated towards the comment about her name. Forcing any memories down she leaned back against the left wall before continuing "I was brought into an orphanage when I was but an infant. The only thing that was left with me besides the basket was a scrap of parchment that said Ysara."
"When I was twelve my two best friends thought it good for me to have a last name, but we could think of anything so we took their last names, White and Phralsh, and combined them, obviously reorganizing Phralsh to flash." She finished, taking a gentler sip from the bucket.
"Interesting…" Kirari spoke softly again, leaning down against her own wall so they were at the same height. "Excuse my nosiness but I'm curious. Could I ask you a few more things?"
There was an air that radiated from the dark elf that the Breton couldn't describe, it was too friendly for comfort and yet sincere and innocent. She bit her lip, debating it a moment before stating "If I can ask you a few first."
She smiled. "Ask away, friend."
Half an hour had past of passing back and forth information about each other. Ysara was surprised at how sociable she could be after all the years of hiding with Scar-tail. There were a few times they had gotten a bit loud and a guard had shouted at them, or Karn grumbled against their talking's as he tried to sleep, but that didn't stop them.
Ysara found out the Kirari was in business with Karn, as how they knew each other so well. They acted as mere beggars but in turn they were one of the major points for the underground market. She didn't go much into her past, and the Breton didn't push it, especially when Kirari showed her the large marks indented to her shoulders.
When their chatting started to draw to a close Kirari stated something the young Breton didn't quite expect.
"So you're a rouge thief then." She said the words almost plainly.
"What…?" Ysara questioned, giving the elf a questioning look.
She shrugged in turn. "By the way you spoke, your little history, and the talk between the guards I assumed."
The Breton was quiet for a few moments. I'd rather not risk getting word around that I'm a murderer. She thought. This is my best bet.
"Ah, I suppose. I don't understand your query though about me being rouge." She said, rubbing her arm in fake embarrassment.
"Well, you should know all thieves that aren't part of the thieves' guild are rouges. " She explained with a questioning tone.
"I thought Cyrodiil didn't have a thief's guild?" Ysara said with an equally questioning tone.
Kirari turned silent for a few moments, and to be honest it scared the hell out of the Breton. But the friendly demeanor quickly returned and the Dark elf grinned, though it didn't do anything to ease her nerves.
"You have some things to learn Ysara. I can't tell all but… be looking for me later in time alright?" she said happily.
"Right…" Ysara sighed. Why did she have to get tangled up with this? All she wanted to do was go back to roaming the world with a companion. For a reason she didn't feel like she needed Scar-tail anymore. After taking revenge on the perverted Argonian she didn't feel a source of loss anymore, there was a stronger feeling that seemed to burn into her chest, a feeling of belonging, a feeling of being with others, a home.
"I'm going to leave you to your thoughts." Kirari broke into her change in pondering. The Breton simply nodded before enveloping herself with the wonder of this feeling.
"Ysara?" a dark voice broke the Breton from her hazed thoughts. It had been three weeks since she had been imprisoned. Kirari and Karn had left long ago, leaving her in an isolated silence. Since she was the only one the guards rarely bothered to check on her and soon it reduced to only the meal times when they looked to her to make sure she hadn't fashioned a shiv or lock pick from something.
The Breton rolled her head to look out from the covers of her bedroll. It obviously wasn't feeding time as she had just eaten the disgusting slop earlier. "What?" she hissed groggily.
"The rest of your time has been paid off. You're free to go." The guard said, picking out a key and slipping into the lock. Ysara could barely register the loud tumble of the gears over her shocked adrenaline.
Who the hell would bail me out? She thought, rising sorely to her feet. She passed through the cell a bit stunned by the change of light from the cell to the small hallway. She must have been adjusting herself to the light too long for the guard shoved her forward, nearly causing her to fall.
There was a low growl. "If you want to stay here there are no objections."
Mentally rolling her eyes she walked along the hallway and through the door to another room where she collected her armor and weapons and other equipment. As soon as she had them she was practically dragged through the castle and shoved out into the cold night air.
Weariness still lingered in her bones as she slumped down the path to the Leyawiin gates. Thoughts of who bailed her out still lingered in her mind as well as someplace she could finish resting. The chances of her getting a room for cheap in this city were slim now as most would have heard of her, so she had no choice but to leave the city and walk up toward Bravil.
Slowly she trekked toward the Blackwood gate, giving the guards there crude looks as she passed by. One of them turned, giving her a grin that told her everything. I'll be back for you worm. She thought, passing through the small gap in the gate as it opened. Oh how she couldn't wait for the moment when she could slit his throat.
After the gates closed she found a slightly secluded spot and changed into her armor, leaving the sack cloth to rot. After that she slowly scouted around till finding her hiding spot for all her equipment. Thank the nine. She thought, rummaging around the pack. Everything seemed to be in place, all for the food that had rotted. A fool move on her part as now she was certain the pack would smell of decay for weeks.
She cleaned every last scrap out as well as a few useless pieces of cloth and potions to lighten her load. Once she was satisfied she strapped the sack across her back and set out in the direction of Bravil. Her fatigue seemed less as she kept on, her goal for a safe place to rest had awakened her a bit, as well as her hunger for a proper meal.
As the thought of hunting flitted through her mind she stumbled upon an odd sight, a slaughtered bear at the side of the path. When she drew warily closer to the corpse she saw that the cut was a large clean one across the front of its neck and a few arrows protruded from the bear's side as well. A large blood of blood circled around the head of the bear, the darkness of the night turning the crimson substance black.
Ysara's hand crossed back to her bow and she gripped it tightly, silently drawing it and a few arrows to the ready. There wasn't ask risk she'd be taking, she was already tired, it she was off her guard by even the slightest she would die at the hands of the enemy. Slowly she stepped closer to inspect the bears flesh. There were things to be wary of, yet she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity of a free meal.
Cutting a piece of the flesh away she inspected the runniness of the blood as a little spilled from the cut. The color of the flesh hadn't changed and it was still very warm, it must have only past extremely recently. Perhaps the person that had killed it had heard her and thought her as a threat before taking off.
After thorough minutes of inspection she deemed the meat fit to eat. She cut away a few more large slabs before wrapping the pieces in a clean fur roll. She would be able to cook the meat for free and get a few salt pies for a low price; it would be worth the wait.
As the gates open she bolted into Bravil, her heart pounding. Not only had there been a few more animals with similar cuts, a group of supposed bandits lay across the path as well. Ysara's mind had soothed her by saying it was an angry Orc, but the feeling of vomit churning in her stomach made her go into an overdrive of different fears.
The Breton maneuvered along the path of the town, ignoring the strange looks she got from the townsfolk. She knew she must have looked and smelt like a monster that stepped from the bowls of the sewers.
The mental map she had laid of the city quickly brought her to the Lonely Suitor Lodge. It wasn't her first choice as the name disturbed her, but the room they had was cheap and the company good.
"Damn Ysara, what hole have you been living in?" Bogrum Gro-Galash said, waving his hand in front of his nose and giving her a kidding look that quickly faded as he saw her un-amused expression. "Err, sorry… Haven't seen you in a while, where's your partner?"
The Breton hefted her pack onto the counter before answering him in a soft monotone. "Dead, now could I please get a room? I'll be staying two nights."
"Ah, I'm sorry…" the Orc said, rubbing the back of his head and casting his glance downward. "I'll get you the key, is there anything else?"
Ysara took the wrapped meat from her pack and placed it on the counter. "If you could salt these for me while I take a bath that would be great."
"Hmm, you've got a lot and bears are getting scarce… How 'bout this, I take half and I'll salt and cook the other half for you free." He put out the option. The Breton's mind was too overworked to care if it was a good deal or not. "Fine." She sighed, picking her pack back up as well as the key.
First the women stopped by her room, dropping off her pack and grabbing different cloths and armor. They weren't as effective as what she was wearing, but they didn't completely smell of decay. Then she made her way back down and below to a back room where a large steel tub was centered, a low fire warming three large kettles of water.
Ysara kept her mind blank while filled the tub slowly. Once it was filled, her body stripped of her clothes, and her bodice submerged in the warmth, she started to let her mind unwind.
What the hell happened exactly?
To my understanding you were bailed from jail, found random carcasses on your way to salvation, got scared shitless, and now you're sitting naked talking to yourself.
Obviously, but what was the point? I'm of value to no one. What part am I to play?
You may be of more value then you know… Rest and let sleep take you to your new home.
The last statement didn't sound like her, it sounded cold and inhuman. Sounded like something that would make anyone walk away with chills and nightmares. Though the chill that shot up her spine was one of great pleasure, and she felt the slightest need to have it again.
It didn't come again though, to her disappointment, gritting her teeth at having lost she set to work scrubbing the grime from her skin. Once she was nearly done the Breton looked out around the room. A foreboding feeling overcoming her, as if she was being watched.
Her eyes narrowed to a point at the corner of the room. That's where she felt the feeling strongest. She reached for one of the wet wash cloths at her side, about to chuck it at the corner to see if something would emerge. A loud thump caused her to jump from her concentration, and she dropped the cloth into the water.
"Ysara! Meats done, if you want it warm better get out here now." Gro-Galash's voice boomed from outside the door.
An annoyed sigh left the Bretons mouth as she bent over in the tub. Orcs could be so shameless at times. "Alright, alright. Thanks for telling me." She said with venomous sarcasm lacing her voice.
Ysara's gaze flickered around the room once more, the feeling still washing over her, yet she couldn't pinpoint where it was this time. With a heavy sigh she stood from the water, quickly drying herself off and lacing her clothes up. The thoughts of finding peace in the town had left her completely.
The meal didn't nearly pass quick enough for her. The meat tasted good, but it felt dry as she tried to swallow. The feeling of being watched didn't leave her until she went up to her room and shut the door quickly and firmly behind her.
Perhaps I should have just stayed in prison. She thought, sliding down from her position of holding the door to a small ball on the ground. The thought of revenge had kept her alive till now, and she thought she had figured out what she wanted, but was it something she was cut out to find? A place to belong seemed simple enough.
She groaned in frustration and dragged herself over to the sleep roll. Not bothering to even curl under the thin layer of cloth for a blanket. As soon as her head hit the flimsy pillow her mind was tossed into darkness.
WAKE UP!
An old familiar pain coursed across Ysara's shoulder, jerking her from her dreamless sleep. The pain faded slowly yet the pressure on her shoulder remained. A source of heat loomed over her and she swiftly brought her arm up, aiming to elbow the person in the chest. The blow was weak as she knew, as the figure easily evaded the attack. Though now she had an opening to use the force to bring her into a half-sitting position.
Her heart thudded and blood roared loudly in her ears as she gazed upward to the cloaked figure that stood in the corner now. Its stance was one that could counter strike in cause she chose to attack, but it was also relaxed and calm, as if not wanting to attack.
After a few moments of silence the figure spoke. "Don't be startled, you sleep quite soundly for a murderer and thus I needed force to wake you." The voice said with a smooth tone.
A prickle of defense raced across her skin but she didn't take action against the statement. Her hand slowly moved to the small knife at her side before she spoke. "Explain yourself… now." she stated, certain what had happened in Leyawiin would only be kept between the guards of each town, and she was sure this man wasn't a guard. A slight feeling of déjà vu washed over her, but it was too subtle to fully notice.
"In time dear child, an introduction is in order beforehand." He said, never loosening his stance. "I am Lucien Lachance, a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood."
The Bretons nerves sparked with unease and surprise. This was happening now, of all times and of all places. She had never pushed into the notion of what had happened years ago, or what even went on before that. It always seemed impossible that she would be part of anything important.
She forced her face to remain expressionless against the verge of questions and emotions that pounded out her mind. "What the hell do you want with me?" Her voice lowered as she spoke, wary of the speaker's intentions.
In the soft candlelight she could just barely see the lower half of Lucien's face. His mouth curled into a small half smile before replying. "Why to join our unique family of course. You are a cold-blooded killer after all."
"And how would you know?" she asked, narrowing her eyes while her grip became tighter on her weapon. She did like this sudden feeling of have being watched for a long time, it made her feel like she was being possessed in a way. The Breton wanted to smash something as he relied with "The night mother's been watching, and she's pleased with what she sees."
His pose became relaxed then as he then asked her something. "This is a once in a lifetime offer, do you wish to hear more?"
Ysara looked away briefly to collect her thoughts and answer. This man had come to her with an opportunity to join the Dark Brotherhood, something she had studied on so long ago, something she had tried to avoid when she was with Scar-tail…. Something that now seemed to be appearing in her life more frequently, if she chose to join now what could she possibly gain? This so called family? An entrance to a good afterlife with people she would hardly know?
But doesn't having a family mean having a home as well?
She was jerked by the thoughts as she bit down unknowingly hard on her lip. The skin busted and bled slightly, forcing her to make the odd motion of wiping the crimson liquid away with her free hand. Once she wiped the blood into the bedroll there was a soft cough from the speaker's direction. Her gaze lolled back to him and she sighed. "Please continue… ." she figured going with a polite statement would get her into a better standard with the stranger.
"I find your etiquette… refreshing" he said, and Ysara could hear the different pitch to his tone. If was between a brighter pace and yet somewhat put off by, she guessed, the blood smearing. "To fulfill your initiation you must kill the man by the name of Rufio. You will find him-"
"Rufio…?" The Breton questioned, cutting Lucien off. She had met the man before when she had stayed a night or two at the Inn of Ill Omen. He didn't seem to be one that would need to be killed, though he did look a little shady and scared when they first met. "Why should he die?"
A look of irritation passed over the speakers face "We don't know who or why, we're simply told that someone wants him dead and we get paid for it." He sighed. "Now if you want further details I suggest keeping your mouth shut."
Irritation of her own coursed through Ysara's blood but she kept silent. When it was certain she was going to keep her mouth shut Lucien continued. "It seems as if you already know where the old fool is, so I will go on to present you with this gift." He said, pulling out a small blade from the inside of his cloak. He tossed it down onto her lap and she felt a small pulse from the blade after it landed a pulse that made it seem alive.
"This is a virgin blade, and it thirsts for blood." he explained while she unsheathed the blade and studied the dark gold encrusted steel. "It's yours should you choose to accept my offer."
The Breton studied the blade a moment more, fascinated by the bloodlust the blade had. It made her feel her own sense of longing to end someone's pitiful life. "…Rufio will die by my hand." She said softly.
"Excellent." The speaker purred. "May the blade serve you well. Now I'll take my leave. When you sleep again in a place I deem secure… I will come to you again, bearing the love of your new family."
The words barely registered in Ysara's head, as she was still mesmerized by the blade. When she looked up again she found herself to be alone one more in the small room. Her lips pursed as she looked back on the odd confrontation. Her memory did a quick flash to her waking up in the frozen north, and being woken up and confronted by Sithis himself.
It looked to be as if now was the time for her to come around to him. The more she thought about it the more the thought or serving him disgusted her. Yet at the same time another part tugged with interest at being a supposed important pawn in Sithis plans.
She sighed, moving to put the virgin blade next to her other one, but she found she didn't want to let go of the weapon just yet. So instead she curled back under the bedroll cover and held the blade close to her chest, falling asleep to the steady pulse of death.
A/N: Aaaaand I'll end it there because 3000+ words are enough for a chapter that needed to be out three weeks ago. So sorry again for the wait. I had an extreme plot bunny skipping through my brain then it was all "Fraak to you." And left me when the convo with Lucien came up :/ so I hope the conversation with him turned out alright. I don't plan for him to be a major character but I hope to create some tension with the next chapter.
Thanks for reading and I\if you have the time please leave a review, I really appreciate it!