Chapter 27: Small Hope
"Ok," Jauffre slapped his hands on the table, causing the band to jump. They had reached Cloud Ruler Temple in the afternoon of the second day, and were apprehensive to hear what plan Jauffre had conjured up while they were away. They were in the east wing library, watching him with nervous eyes.
"We have come up with 'Operation GSS'."
Ice tilted his head. "What's that stand for?"
"Operation Great Sigil Stone. You see, back in Kvatch, they had to open three gates in order to open a Great gate. Our plan is to let the Mythic Dawn open these gates and bait them out. While we're dealing with the Daedra, you guys must run into the Great gate and quickly get the Sigil Stone before they have a chance to destroy Bruma. If it's like Kvatch, they'll have a siege engine, which are not all that fast."
"It buys us time," Crow observed, and Jauffre nodded. "Thanks to all of you helping out the cities, they've agreed to send out guards to manage the Daedra outside the gates. If we're correct, once the Great gate collapses, the others should too."
"It's like all the gates are connected," Martin was paying rapt attention.
"Yes. If this works, and you guys work fast, there shouldn't be many casualties. Any questions?"
"Yeah," Nightshade's voice showed skepticism, "how are we supposed to speed though Oblivion without getting killed?"
"Ah, yes, well, you'll have to run for your lives. But don't worry," he said rapidly, "create diversions, take a bunch of power and speed potions, and you'll be fine. The rest is up to you four. Martin, Baurus, and I will be with the guards defending Bruma."
"Wait," Martin looked a little shocked, "I'll be in the fight?"
The Breton smiled. "You'll be leading it."
"What? I-I can't lead a fight!"
"They'll be expecting it," Baurus sighed. "You're their beacon of hope, especially with the heroes of Kvatch at your side."
Before he could object it, the doors of the library creaked open. They all turned to see a Dark Elf poke his head through and look sheepishly around. "Um… have I interrupted something?"
Ice's eyes suddenly lit up with adoration as Nightshade recognized the dunmer. She had forgotten his name, but he was the thief in Boethia's stadium, the one that was the husband of what's-her-name…
She furrowed her brow, half out of bewilderment of why he was here, and half out of the fact her head seemed to be swimming in a pool of loose memories.
"Ah, Ashen Black, I presume," Jauffre grinned. "It's been a while. No, I was just explaining the plan."
"Oh," he stepped in as Nightshade was massaging her temples, a headache settling. "I hear I'm to be part of your excursion through Oblivion. Hello, Elyon."
The Wood Elf had rose and was now giving Ash a hug. "How's Lyze?"
"Doing well. She's taken an interest in the Daedric world, now that she can actually go into it and come out alive. You should see it back in Morrowind. All the Daedric cults are rising out of their shrines and a whole load of scholars and warriors, instead of shrinking away from the opening portals, are lining up to fight the beasts and study. They see this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make something of themselves."
Martin was suddenly alarmed. "You mean the gates are opening in Morrowind?"
"Everywhere, I understand."
He groaned and sank in his chair. Baurus frowned. "So, how do you come into our plan?"
"I'm to help in Operation GSS. I've got the fastest feet in the Morrowind Thieves Guild, and I understand there's going to be a race to the Sigil Stone. I'll be accompanying the Heroes of Kvatch into the Great Gate, in case something goes wrong, we have a greater chance of getting the stone the more people that go in. Of course," he got a sad twinkle in his eye, "we won't be able to look out for each other. It's every man for himself, or else we'll take far too long."
Ice, riveted by every word the elf said, nodded in blind consent before realizing what he meant. "Wait, what?"
"We'll have to fight for ourselves. Didn't Jauffre mention this?"
All eyes went to Jauffre, most of them glaring, as he smiled, embarrassed. "I was getting to that part."
"When is this Operation GSS?" Crow said in a quiet voice, his hood up and over his eyes, his body seeming to want to fuse with the chair.
"Tomorrow morning. I suggest a full night's sleep before the big day."
Nightshade was walking, a heat wave of determination spreading through her mind. The robes she wore swayed with every step, her auburn hair bouncing with the light breeze. She was in Cheydinhal, in an area she had never been in before, and yet, it felt so familiar.
Thoughts that were not her own flowed through her. She felt enlightened, almost excited, at her own spiritual emotions. For the first time in her life she understood what she had to do, understood that her whole life was wrong. She had known it, but never understood it. Killing, killing was what made her weak, not the fact that she had thrown up when she had to kill the baby in the cradle, not the fact that she couldn't slit the throat of the dying grandmother. She was under the command of those at the top of the Black Hand, the Fingers, as they were called, and her own lust for killing. She was a slave, a lowly Silencer, to them. But no longer would she kill whoever they told her to kill. It would be her choice now on. It had to be.
When her thoughts cleared Nightshade realized that the body of Dalkai Laneth had led her straight to a well, which she climbed down with stealth and ease. As she entered the secret lair, a sense of homeliness and sadness filled her. She knew, that after today, she would never return to her home. And she was willing to make that sacrifice.
"Arquen will see you now."
She followed a Wood Elf down deeper into the lair, the darkness growing, but she wasn't scared. The darkness was her life, her light.
She entered the hall, her eyes adjusting, and nodded a greeting to a tall woman in similar black robes as herself. Her eyes were cold and hard, and normally they would cause her to proceed with caution, but Dalkai wasn't scared anymore. "I've been courteous to you, so be curt to me."
"We aren't happy, Dalkai."
She snorted. "Really? I hadn't noticed."
"You used to be our protégé; we used to have such high hopes."
"It did you no good."
"The Brotherhood had just come out of dark times when you joined."
"I was recruited, like a common soldier."
"Why do you have such hatred for your family?"
"I don't hate my family," Dalkai leaned on the wall of the hall, slightly enjoying this. "I always disliked you, however, and how you would boss us around, tell us what to do, who to kill, and not even why."
"Not this again."
"Yes, this again. For ten years I've been here, and I'm still a Silencer. I'm one of the best in the business and yet I'm hardly paid enough. I am sick of being a dog to the Black Hand, to, to this Night Mother, to my own demons. How do we know the Night Mother exists, or that she is even good?"
Arquen shook her head. "It doesn't matter why, Dalkai, or if She is good. We are alike, kin to each other. We took you in off the streets—"
"So? I was a confused child, lonely and scared, armed with a soul I didn't understand. Well, now I do. If I was created to kill, let my kills be my kills, not the Dark Brotherhood's. I have finally found my purpose, and that is to be just."
"What do you plan to do? Join the army?" Arquen was now only about arm's reach away from Dalkai, a suspicious gleam in her eyes. She, however, smirked. "I'm not sure, but I know that it doesn't involve you."
"You do realize I can't let you go through with this treason?"
"I imagined as much. Just like you killed innocent Lucien Lachance you want to kill me. Your methods and reasons for killing are so… so… juvenile."
"I'm sorry it had to end this way; you had promise."
"I'm not." And simultaneously within a moment she hissed a paralyzing spell and shot out her arm before Arquen could react, her trusty Flameblade slashing the throat of its target with incredible aim. "Remember, Arquen," Dalkai grabbed the collar of her robe while she stared, wild-eyed and frantic, as the Imperial took her dagger from her robe, "it was you that created me and destroyed yourself."
As the band of heroes was getting ready for Operation GSS that morning, Nightshade didn't have the heart to tell her friends about her dream. In fact, her heart felt like it was in her throat.
Everyone was solemn, nervous, and yet excited. The band knew that many of Blades, with odd high hopes, would never see Cloud Ruler Temple ever again.
They all marched down the mountain towards Bruma. Ice was adorned in his usual chainmail and black robes and two daggers, and was, for the most part, mysteriously quiet the whole trip. Elyon no longer wore her fur armor but instead was in full Orcish armor, fresh from the blacksmith; she had made sure Richu and Silver would stay at the temple. Crow, too, had changed, and wore golden, lavish Elven armor that Nightshade couldn't help but laugh at. "This better save my life," he had growled as Elyon was helping him into it. Ash was in odd armor, some of it metal, and some of it a green glass. He said it was very flexible and light. Nightshade herself had chosen wisely, while having nothing else anyway, to wear her new Mithril suit.
But Martin topped them all. Being leader of Operation GSS, Jauffre had insisted that he look at least half godly. So, he was in the Armor of Tiber Septim, the armor from Sancre Tor that would be partially used to open a portal to Paradise. It was a marvelous gold, with red jewels that glimmered in the sunlight. It brought out his chest and the muscles he had gained over the last few weeks. He, however contrary to the truth, was very meek and modest as people complimented him. Instead of leading them proudly in front with his head held high he stared at the ground as if it would swallow him on his command.
"It'll be ok," Nightshade, walking beside him, tried to lighten his spirits. "Everything will turn out well. It'll be over in no time."
He sighed as Ice slid up next to him. "Yeah. We've handled plenty of gates before."
"It's not just that. I mean… I can't stop thinking about the people that will die. And Kvatch… Kvatch is the only real experience I have and I still have nightmares about it. I'm—I'm too much of a coward, too scared to lead them into battle. I can't stand death."
"I don't think most people do," Nightshade was biting her lip while trying to think of a way to bring his spirits up. If he was this depressed there was no way the soldiers would fight well.
"Well, if it's any consolation, with Ashen and the others in the gate we'll be done in no time. Just have some faith. Pray, if you have to."
Bruma's large gates appeared in front of them sooner than they would've liked. Martin was forced to enter first, with Jauffre and Baurus behind him, followed by the Heroes of Kvatch and Ashen, and then the lucky chosen Blades that would fight for the Empire.
The snowy streets were crowded with people that broke out into fierce cheering and parted a path for the arrivals. Nightshade didn't even know that there were so many people in Bruma.
Martin looked dumbstruck as he walked by, whatever nervousness he didn't have before creeping into him like poisonous air. Jauffre put his hand on his shoulder in case he decided to faint, or worse yet, run away in embarrassment.
They were steered into the Great Chapel of Talos, where an Imperial woman dressed in steel armor and her guard captain were waiting patiently for the procession. Nightshade recognized Achilles emerging from the shadows behind the woman for a better look.
"Countess Carvain," Jauffre nodded in greeting, "are we ready?"
"Yes," she eyed Martin with scrutiny. "What's the plan?"
"Well, Martin will give a speech to motivate the soldiers, then we wait for the gates to open. When they do, we fight. Then, the Great Gate should open, and Nightshade, Crow, Ice, and Ash will dash into it and get the stone."
Ice looked a little surprised. "What about Elyon?"
"I'm staying behind to heal people. I'm a greater help here than in there."
There was a silence before Carvain cleared her throat. "Well, shall we get this over with?"
They all shuffled out, practically pushing a stage-frightened Martin in front of them. He almost yelped when he saw all the people gathered near the chapel, cheering him, crying, "Martin Septim! Our future emperor! Our hope!" They died down as he stared at them.
"Quick, say your speech before something bad happens," Ice prodded.
Wide-eyed, Martin glanced around for support, and Jauffre nodded. He meekly turned to the audience, cleared his throat, and said, "Hello."
More cheers erupted from the one word. "Thank you," he smiled sheepishly. "I would like to thank all of you for being so supportive of our plan. We must go through this horror before it can end, and hopefully it will be the only horror you'll all ever have to face. The guards are brave men and women from all over Cyrodiil, and one from Morrowind. Without them, this wouldn't work. This will not be easy, but it won't take all day. Yes, Mehrunes Dagon is a serious and dangerous threat, and many of you will sacrifice your lives so others may live to carry your legacy on. Good luck."
The cheers started again, although not as heartily as before, and the others headed out of the gates of the city. All the guards and Blades marched ahead, their heads high, their faces stern and emotionless. All the other voices seemed to mix into each other, were far away, as their thoughts went from being heroes in Bruma to saving the world and possibly dying in the process.
Martin briskly made his way to the front, followed by Jauffre, Baurus, and all those going into the gate. He stopped as the ground began to rumble. They were by the base of the mountain, on flatland north of Bruma, and out of the rocks the gate emerged in all its glory and fire. The sides grew like two horns from a minotaur, and the portal in the middle appeared like a webby netting in between. And then the Daedra came.
"Attack!" Martin unsheathed his sword, his adrenaline pumping, and they all charged down into the flatland, meeting whatever Daedra they came across. Martin decapitated a Clannfear, its blood spraying onto Baurus next to him who went into combat with Jauffre and a large dragon-like Daedroth. Ashen had held back and was shooting arrows. Crow was casting spells against a spidery-like creature with little spiders in its command. He blasted them with frost spells, which seemed to be working rather well. Nightshade and Ice were fighting back to back against Dremora that seemed to refuse to die. Their swords would clash dramatically with the Dremora's before they would turn counter-clockwise and slash with incredible speed.
When the second gate opened even more Daedra poured out. Everyone was engaged in combat now. Swords clashed with scales and skin while teeth chomped through armor and magic whizzed through the air. And when the third gate opened many were very overwhelmed. Nightshade, Ice, and Crow found themselves teamed up against a fiery, almost humanoid demon, a Daedroth, and two Clannfears. Crow took on the Daedroth with a katana that he had taken from the armory in the Temple. He managed to intercept its long jaws by trapping the katana between its teeth diagonally. Nightshade slashed at the two Clannfears with the Goldbrand, doing a rather good job before one slashed at her shoulder and caused the chain-mail-like Mithril to rip at her arm. Ice was blocking the fiery demon's fireballs with weak shielding spells and used the small intervals between them to slash at it.
And then it finally happened. With a great rumble that seemed to turn into a roar in everyone's ears two terrible horn-like protrusions thrust themselves from the ground, towering over the three other gates and glowing fiercely like fresh lava. The Great gate had finally arrived.
"Quick!" Crow shouted, "We have to get going!"
With newfound adrenalin Crow, Ice, and Ashen ran through the amassing crowd of primarily Daedra. Nightshade followed them, but was beginning to feel aware of a strange tiredness she had never experienced in their other battles. It seemed like everything was taking up more energy than usual. When she reached the Great gate she tripped on some sort of limb and fell face-first into the mud, expecting to be trampled, but instead someone pushed her up from the shoulders. It was Martin, his face glowing with exploding courage and the rush of battle, his eyes shining with concern and yet seemed distant and old. There was warmth in his voice as he pushed a vial in her hands and said, "Hurry, but be careful."
"Thanks," she nodded, and under other circumstances she might have noticed more than just energy pulsing through Martin as he watched her and prayed, for the first time in a long time, with all his heart for her safety.