The sunlight streamed in through the grimy windows of Mistveil Keep, illuminating the dark, stone floor and hardwood walls. Maven sat in her office adding to the record book. The list of numbers seemed to go on forever. There was a soft knock on the door; she answered it. "Come in,"
The door opened to reveal a stern-faced guard. "There's a girl here. Wants to speak to you. I've got her waiting in the Hall." He said. Maven stood, grabbing her cloak and throwing it around her shoulders. "Take me to her." She said. Her paperwork would have to wake. As much as she figured it was only a drunk complaining about the price of mead, it was her job as Jarl to attend to any issues that may arise. When she entered the main chamber, she saw a girl – no, woman – sitting at the end of the table playing with the dinner ware. Her shock of crimson hair was cut short, but would have been longer had the curls not been there. The woman looked up at Maven's entrance, then quickly stood and bowed.
"M'lady," she said dramatically. Maven sat on her throne and draped the cloak around her. "I need to talk to you about your son." The woman said. Maven raised an eyebrow.
"Which one? Hemming, or that rat-of-a-man Sibbi?" Despite him being the youngest boy, Sibbi had gotten himself into more trouble than most. It took all Maven was worth not to disown him. The woman's gaze hardened.
"Sibbi," she said, almost growling. But in an instant she had composed herself again and stood tall. "I would like to negotiate the terms of his release."
"Why?" Maven asked simply, examining her nails. The woman opened her mouth to speak but Maven raised a hand to silence her. "Whatever your terms are, I don't want to hear them. I am never letting him out of that cell. The boy isn't worth half as much as he seems to be, and the only thing he seems to be good at is getting his ass in jail. Trust me; you don't want to see him on the streets again.
The woman looked aghast. She stuttered out, "But – I – I'm with the Guild and I'll –,"
"You'll what, dear? I own the Thieves Guild. You hold no power in this argument. Guards, remove her from my sight." Maven stood to head back to her office as a pair of guards descended on the woman.
"You won't hear the end of this!" the woman yelled at her back.
Maven turned.
"I'll see what Aera has to say about this!" her emerald eyes bore into Maven's gold ones as the guards dragged the struggling woman towards the door. Maven smiled softly.
"Well send her in. I'll gladly listen to someone with a mind of reason." She turned again and disappeared down the hallway. After a moment Maven heard the slamming of the oak doors and knew her work was done.
Lynne stumbled down the stairs as the guards slammed the doors behind her. Once their backs were turned she gave them a nice view of a certain finger before storming down to the jail. She tossed a handful of coins at the guard and forced her way through the gate to Sibbi's cell. She got to the cell and collapsed to her knees with a sigh, her hands gripping the bars so hard her knuckles turned white. Lynne heard a rustling before Sibbi's hand was placed softly on hers, their fingers intertwining through the cold steel bars. He rubbed small circles over her thumb. Relaxing a bit, Lynne rolled over so her back was against the bars and Sibbi began massaging her shoulders.
"I'm guessing it didn't go well?" He asked.
"No," Lynne grumbled. "She said there was no way in Hell she's letting you out." She paused. "Okay, so she didn't literally say that – but it was implied." She went to bury her head in her arms, but Sibbi grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Their eyes met, and just his loving gaze seemed to calm her even more.
"Don't worry, we'll figure something out. My mother is just an old crone like that." He leaned forward and laid a kiss on her forehead. Pulling back, they shared a smile before Lynne stood, dusting the dirt from her trousers.
"I should go," she said. "I've been away from the Guild long enough." Lynne clasped his hand for a moment before they parted, leaving Sibbi smiled at the view he got as she left.
It was late in the afternoon now and Aera was stacking up piles of parchment on her desk. She rubbed tired eyes and sat back in her chair. Who knew that being the leader of a rugged band of thieves included so much god dammed paperwork?
"Aera," A voice called to her. She looked up into the emerald eyes of Lynne. "Can I talk to you about something?" the Breton asked.
Aera sat up in her chair. "Yes, of course. What is it?"
"I need you to talk to Maven about releasing her son, Sibbi, from imprisonment." Aera held Lynne's eyes for a moment.
"No," She said simply. "There is no way I am releasing a criminal."
"You run a guild of thieves!" Lynne persisted.
"Sibbi is a murderer! He kills people!"
"By Talos, It was one person!"
"Dammit, Lynne!" Aera cried, slamming her hands on the desk. "Leave it alone! I'm not going to talk to Maven about it. Your love endeavors are the last thing on my mind right now." She trailed off, flashes of their battle with Avicto resurfacing. By the time she looked up again, Lynne had long since stormed off. Aera stood up, stomach rumbling, and headed off to find some food.
"Why in seven hells is it so cold out?" Brynjolf asked, rubbing his gloved hands together. "There's a reason I live in the Rift." He grumbled. Aera thought whimsically of Breezehome back in Whiterun and smiled to herself. The 'hot' summer days there were nothing compared to the mild winters the Rift usually got. This year, however, it seemed colder than usual; prompting even the bravest adventurer to stay warm, and inside.
"The sooner we get to the Hall, the sooner we can get back." She said checking the buckles on her new horse's saddle before climbing up. The mare was a soft chestnut brown with a cream mane and tail. Aera managed to get a good deal for her because of the 'war horse's' small stature. She didn't mind; it suited her own height perfectly. Beside her, Karliah and Brynjolf were mounting up their own horses; Karliah's a dark grey and Brynjolf's the traditional dapple of Riften. All of them were clad in thick furs to protect them from the cold, yet underneath they all dawned the Nightingale armor of their order. Nodding to each companion in turn, the trio set off south for Nightingale Hall.
It was Aera's idea to turn to her patron goddess for help with her Avicto problem. Once it became obvious there were higher powers at work, she decided it seemed right for her to seek assistance from one as well. However in order to become fully in tune with Nocturnal, the other two Guardians would have to be present. Somehow Aera had been able to convince the thieves to ride with her through what was sure to become a blizzard in a few short hours to reach the temple and commune with a god who might not be able to help them at all.
By the time they reached the Hall, both man, elf, and Khajiit were frozen to the bone. Once dismounted, they lead their horses inside the damp but warm cave. Braziers flickered to life and illuminated the only place they could really call home. Behind her Karliah breathed a sigh of relief. For the longest time, the Hall had been where she called home until Aera convinced her to move into the Cistern; it was clear she still held a deep attachment with the place – it was hard not to. They made their way through the cave to the far room.
There were three arching pathways in front of them, each that lead to a different pedestal from one, centrifugal platform, all emblazoned with their guild's crest. The Nightingales took their positions; this time with Aera taking the middle position. She knelt and spoke.
"I call upon you, Lady Nocturnal," Aera began. "Queen of murk, and empress of shadow. Hear my voice!" She paused, and looked up when the swirling blue form of Nocturnal bled into this world.
"Ah, Aera. It has been quite a while since you last called on me. What is it, my child?" Nocturnal asked. Aera took a breath and spoke.
"Recently I was sent on a mission to retrieve a book for a client, which holds some supposed 'dark magic'. It is nothing special until I finally find the book; and the elf wielding it. His name is Avicto. He is the son of Linwe, who ran the Summerset Shadows until I destroyed them. I had thought that Avicto was merely trying to rebirth the Guild until I actually fought him. All I know is that whatever magic he used was from that book and unlike any I have ever seen before. I had hoped you might be able to spread some light on the subject, considering we are sitting in the dark."
Nocturnal was silent, and the tension in the room grew. Aera dug her claws into the stone. Maybe it had been wrong of her to ask a Daedric Prince for something so trivial. She didn't know the rules. Aera glanced over to Brynjolf who looked just as nervous as she did. Finally the Deadra broke the silence.
"Leave this matter behind you." She said. "I have witnessed one instance of this magic before, and the chaos it caused took centuries to fix. Even if you kill Avicto, the magic doesn't end with him; it ends with that book. Find it and destroy it before he has a chance to use it to its full purpose."
Aera's brows knitted together in confusion. Her problem just got a hell of a lot worse.
"The book will be with Avicto. But how can I destroy the book if I don't know where he is?" She asked. The blue mass pulsated.
"He will try and go where his source of power is strongest. Your elf will probably head for –," Nocturnal was suddenly cut off, her voice distorted as if hearing it from under water. Suddenly the mass shifted, converged inward and blasted out again with such a force it caused the Nightingales to be knocked backwards. Aera rolled and managed to stay on her platform, hearing a splash to her left. She looked over to Brynjolf's empty platform and saw the man floating in the water below. As she sat up there was a sharp pain between her eyes. Aera grabbed her head in her hands and tried to keep the contents of her stomach down. She heard Karliah cry out from her right and saw the Dunmer collapse in a heap.
"Karliah!" She cried out. Aera didn't have time to react before a deep gravelly voice spoke.
"Oh how weak the mortal body is," it said. Aera looked up with a gasp. What had previously been a swirling blue magic was now twisted and crawling. Its emerald tentacles snaked around an obsidian void that pulsated in time to every throb in her skull.
"What do you want!" She called to it. The voice reverberated through her head and threatened to push her from consciousness as it spoke.
"Only to speak with you, mortal; to warn you." It drawled out. "Should you continue on your current path, you will only encounter more danger. Leave me and my vessel in peace, and you will also die. Either way you are doomed to fail. So spend your remaining days knowing there is nothing you can do to stop me."
Rage and fear raced through Aera's veins. "Who are you? What do you call yourself spirit?" She asked. The mass laughed.
"I am no spirit, mortal. I am Hermaeus Mora, Daedric Lord of forbidden knowledge. But it is no matter of mine what you call me. Soon enough, there won't be enough of you left to do much of anything. I will roam your world with penultimate power as your spirit rots away to nothingness. The end of Tamriel as you know it is approaching. Do not fight me; you cannot win. Stop your pursuit of the elf, Avicto; he is under my protection now. This is your final warning." The mass warped and vanished, heading back to wherever it came from.
As her head pain ebbed away, she heard a sputtering cough from below. Aera leaned to look down into the water as a soaking Brynjolf pulled himself onto the lower platform. "What in seven hells was that?" He gasped, shaking the water from his hair. By the time he looked up to Aera's platform, the Khajiit had already moved across to hold a vomiting Karliah. She patted the Dunmer's back.
"That was Hermaeus Mora." She said. Aera helped Karliah to her feet and they walked down to a dripping Brynjolf. "Our communion with Nocturnal must have caused a weak point in the veil, which he used to gain access to us. The migraines we got were probably because we were still connected to Nocturnal when he butted in."
Brynjolf looked at her with uncertainty. "What did he want?" He asked. Aera's grim expression already gave him his answer.
"He told us to stop our pursuit of Avicto. Somehow they are connected – Mora called him his 'vessel'. He warned me that no matter what we do, we are going to fail, and inevitably die. He said the end of Tamriel is approaching." Aera wrung her hands together.
"What does that mean for us?" Karliah asked, her indigo eyes showing nothing but fear.
Aera's blood ran cold. "It means things just got a lot harder for us."
A/N: Okay so first off, thanks to Pyro212 for following my story!
But this chapter took me sooooooo long to write I wasn't sure I was going to get it out at a reasonable time. And since it was getting so much longer than usual, I had to cut off an additional scene I was going to have after their encounter with Mora. I've just moved it to the beginning of the next chapter is all. I have about half of chapter eight planned out so far, so an update should be soon, but don't count on it. :P
Fave, follow, and review please! It all helps! :D
-Ink