Author's Note: Hello everyone! I posted this chapter early because I'm going on a bit of a road trip this weekend. As always, a big thanks to all you readers out there and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 35: Treachery and Torment
"Oh, dear. Oh, Sithis help me..." Temani's voice wavered. He wiped his sweat-covered brow, as he held a book explaining the arcane arts in his long, trembling fingers. He couldn't let the others find out, he simply couldn't. Not now, of all times. Blast it all! Why did he have to rejoin his dark family in the middle of such dire conflict? At least the girl was gone for now. His poor heart simply couldn't bear the sight of her. He had enough grief in his life, as it was.
"You ready or what?" Temani turned to see a disgruntled Nazir standing impatiently in the doorway. "I'd like to have this pass phrase changed before all Oblivion breaks loose, if you get my drift." he remarked, clearly not amused with Temani's stalling.
"Oh, yes, of course. Gladly..." he sighed, straightening himself and falling in line behind the stern Redguard.
Temani followed Nazir through the Sanctuary, exiting the Black Door, where an eager Cicero fidgeted anxiously. "OH, the nice elf has come to AID our cause! Many THANKS to you, dear brother." Cicero bowed, seeming excited to witness such a sacred enchantment. Unfortunately, Temani didn't think the jester would get what he wanted.
"Ah..." Temani clasped his long fingers together nervously. "You are quite welcome, sir." He turned to the ominous door, trying his best to focus all his energy and thought into the task at hand.
"Well? Get on with it." Nazir huffed, looking as though he thought Temani to be wasting his time.
"Yes, yes. Very well, then." Temani cleared his throat, raising his hands and concentrating. He tried to feel it in his blood, as it was his right by birth. He was an Altmer, after all. This should have come easy to him, yet it didn't. Actually, it didn't come at all.
"Is there a PROBLEM, elf?" Cicero curiously raised an eyebrow, apparently noticing how hard Temani was straining to produce any bit of magic.
"Heheh...It's just a complicated incantation," he lied, trying again. Nothing. Just like when he was a small child. Nothing. A disappointment to his family, his race, and to himself. No, he had to try again. He growled, straining his mind and body until he felt a heat rise within himself. It burned from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, now pooling in his hands. Was this it? Was it the magic that his Brotherhood so desperately needed?
Suddenly, a large boom of white light erupted from his palms, blasting the three of them back on their rears. Was that magic? Temani sat dumbfounded among his dark siblings, rubbing his head with confusion.
"Damn it! I didn't know it was that powerful. Warn us next time you decide to blow us up, okay?" Nazir grumbled, dusting himself off and walking to the door. Nothing had changed. The door uttered the exact same question.
"Is the nice elf not FEELING well?" Cicero hopped up, offering a gloved hand to Temani. That's it. He could lie.
"I-I'm afraid I'm not feeling well at all. Perhaps it has affected my abilities in some way..." Temani spoke, pretending to be baffled by what happened as the jester pulled him to his feet. Of course, he knew better. He never could accumulate magic, or use it properly. That's why he'd been ostracized back in his homeland. That's why he ran away to Cyrodiil in the first place. It's the reason he'd taken other routes in life. Feeling a familiar sense of defeat and failure, he slinked away. "I do apologize. I'd better go lie down..."
"Well, on your way, make yourself useful and find one of our mages that can actually use magic while you're at it. We need this done now, understand?" Nazir demanded, appearing disgusted.
"Yes, yes. Of course. I'll send them up." Temani sighed, entering the Sanctuary once more. At least he didn't have to admit the truth - - for now.
Nazir approached the Black Door, hearing the new question that emanated from within.
"What is life's greatest moment?" the dark voice hissed.
"Hehe! OH, GOODY! It WORKED!" Cicero hopped about, clapping his hands in celebration.
"Will you pipe down and just answer it, clown?!" Nazir puffed, scolding Cicero. Why did the fool act as if every moment were some sort of blasted holiday?
"Alright, GRUMPY!" Cicero scowled. He turned back to the ominous door. "Ceasing, my brother..."
"Welcome home..." the voice hissed, bringing a feeling of satisfaction to the Redguard. Nazir turned to an eager young assassin, thanking her and watching her face beam with pride from her accomplishments. At least some of the mages around Falkreath were competent. It was too bad the two mages that should've been the most experienced had turned out to be completely lousy.
"What in Sithis' name?!" Nazir pulled out his scimitar, suddenly hearing the galloping of a horse drawing near. Who was this - - an enemy, perhaps?
"Hmmm...Cicero doesn't like the sound of that..." the jester growled darkly, drawing twin ebony daggers. What kind of Sanctuary had a fool more accomplished in battle than a majority of the assassins? Apparently it was Nazir's.
Suddenly, a dark horse burst out into view, with a tiny figure perched on top of it. It was Babette. What was she doing taking Shadowmere to Falkreath?
"Oh. It's the Un-child," Cicero muttered dryly, apparently disappointed that he had no one to slaughter.
"What are you doing here?! Shouldn't you be keeping watch over Dawnstar?" Nazir eyed the hooded girl suspiciously. Just what was the old She-Devil up to this time?
"Dawnstar can wait. I need you to come with me now." Babette replied, as Nazir detected a tone of urgency in her voice. This wasn't like the old girl. It must have been important.
"Wait. I have to be back by the first of Sun's Dawn. I have to go with Vottur. You do know we have a war in our midst, don't you?" Nazir raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on his hip.
Babette sighed. "I know all about it. I'm not a child, Nazir. It's not very far, but it's imperative that you come with me now," she demanded, now turning her gaze to the clown. "Cicero, tell Vottur that Nazir left with me. Tell him I'll have him back before nightfall."
"Cicero doesn't take orders from little CHILDREN." The fool grinned devilishly, trying his best to give her a hard time.
"Ugh, I'm not in the mood for your stupid jokes, Cicero. Now go or I'll tell Ava how disobedient you've been!" Babette scolded him.
"Fine, IMP! Cicero was only JESTING! Don't have to go TATTLING on him..." Nazir watched the clown mutter as he sulked into the entrance and out of sight. Thank Sithis, he was gone.
"Alright, Babette. Move over." Nazir said, sheathing his trusty blade.
"Who said I had to?" Babette smirked.
"Me, that's who." Nazir barked. "Besides, it would look ridiculous for you to be in front with me riding behind. We do have a reputation to maintain, you know." Nazir insisted, watching Babette grin. She really knew how to get him riled when she wanted to.
"I guess you have a point. Just head to the Falkreath Watchtower. I have a little present waiting there..." Babette grinned darkly.
Ava sat among unfamilair faces, peering warily from under her hooded disguise. The sun blazed brightly in the mid-day sky, as an ever-present reminder that time was drifting forward. The carriage jostled on the rough road, shaking Ava from her thoughts. She had decided to take the usual route - - a carriage ride to Morthal, and then a lone journey by foot. Her final journey.
Ava sighed, feeling completely and utterly alone.
"Sure is a beautiful day, isn't it young lady?" an elderly Breton man chimed, attempting to start a friendly conversation with her.
Ava's eyes gazed over the beautifully rugged landscape of the cold province she called home. Totally the opposite of a majority of sunny, temperate Cyrodiil, yet equally as beautiful, Skyrim was the last place she would see before she entered the other side. "Yes...It really is quite beautiful, isn't it?" she answered the elderly man, provoking a warm smile from his wrinkled lips.
"You know, I used to be young like you. Over the years, I travelled all of this land, and a better part of Tamriel, really. It's funny how fast life passes you by. Now I'm old and grey. Safe to say Skyrim will be my final resting place, should the time come. But you...You've got a lot of life left, young lady. You need to travel. See all that you can see, before you get my age." he advised, in the general fashion of the elderly folk.
A sad smile made its way across Ava's lips, yet she did not reply. There was nothing she could say to that.
"I tell you, the most interesting place I ever visited was Elsewyr. Have you ever been there, young lady?" the old man asked, still smiling.
"No. Unfortunately I haven't..." Ava trailed off, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.
"Oh, well I could tell you about it, if you'd like." the old man asked, eager to tell his tale.
Ava smiled, slightly comforted by the aspect of merely hearing about the places she never had the chance to journey to. "Yes, I'd really like that," she nodded, listening intently as the carriage rolled down the road to the small town of Morthal.
Haldor heard the crunch of snow under his large boot for the first time since he'd left the watchtower. He could already feel his heart race with the anticipation of battle. He'd shout that little weakling to Oblivion in a single breath. There was something about that feeling of power - - of total domination over another being - - that made Haldor's adrenaline rush.
He walked briskly in the frozen tundra, feeling proud of the hardy Nord lineage that made him impervious to the harsh winter storms that often took place in Skyrim. It was simply another one of his many strengths, besides his obvious god-like powers.
He couldn't help but to hunger for Ava's death, though he'd never even met the little twig. From what Lielle spoke of her, she was a weak, passive leader. Maybe she had some sort of power, but to Haldor, power without the yearning to use it led to a timid, pathetic being. Ava seemed to be just like those passive, know-it-all Greybeards. Who gave a Skeever's ass if they knew the Dragon tongue and all that mess, if they refused to do anything other than meditate on a blasted mountaintop all their worthless days? It was beyond ridiculous.
Maybe when he finished grinding Ava to dust, he'd go back and slaughter the likes of that bunch as well. Skyrim didn't need weak little prophets and soothsayers, it needed legends. It needed him. He could trample the weaklings of Nirn, and Lielle would make a nice companion along the way. She may not have been all that powerful compared to him, but she was a challenge. He liked that.
Haldor could just imagine the moment her emerald eyes would light up when she found out that he'd snuffed out her former Listener. They could travel together, snuffing out those like her, as well. By Talos, maybe wiping out that pitiful excuse for the Dark Brotherhood wasn't such a bad idea, after all. Lielle would most likely buy into it. After that, he'd most certainly have that bastard Ulfric's head on a stick. Oh yes, he wouldn't forget about that self-righteous son of a bitch.
A bitter gale burst forth from the skies. A furious blizzard surrounded the Dragonborn, blinding him in a sheet of never-ending white. Haldor smirked arrogantly to himself.
"Lok Vah Koor!" he shouted, as a blast erupted from his breath, instantly taming the skies in front of him. He laughed haughtily. Even the elements were no match for his might. Ava had better pray for a quick death, if she knew what was good for her.
Babette entered the old watchtower, with Nazir following her lead. "Here," she pointed to the bloody sheet in the corner, the obvious form of a body laying underneath.
"You took me here to show me a bloody rag?" Nazir remarked, smirking.
"Very funny, Nazir. Lift it up, you big dummy," she sighed, pointing to the blood-stained sheet.
She watched as the Redguard lifted the sheet, dropping it quickly to the side in surprise. "Lielle?! What in Sithis' name is she doing here? And why in the Void is she unconscious?!" Nazir asked, Babette seeing the bewildered look on his face.
"This, my friend, is our traitor. I poisoned her a few hours ago to knock her out. She's been in cahoots with that Dragonborn fellow. She gave away our pass phrase to Falkreath. I've been following her trail since Ava and the others left Dawnstar. Thankfully, word spreads fast in Skyrim, or we'd never have caught the little tavern wench," she explained, seeing Nazir's face turn from baffled to downright disgusted.
"...You're sure of this?" he asked apprehensively, his usually sarcastic tone now absent from his voice. He was as serious as death itself. Babette knew that he took these matters very serious when they arose. Being a traitor was a heavy crime in the Dark Brotherhood - - especially a traitor that Nazir had hand-picked to join their ranks.
"I'm afraid so. Ask any townsperson around Falkreath. They'll tell you anything I can. Believe me, she's reckless and careless in everything she does - - even treason. Of course, it came to my advantage..." she gloated, feeling satisfaction from capturing the mage.
"Very well..." Nazir rubbed his forehead, Babette noting his obvious regret and distress from the situation. "Let's tie her up. We'll put her in the prison chamber for now. We have far too much on our hands to deal with her right away," he sighed, gazing off in the distance with a somber expression on his face. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd endanger the Brotherhood with such a careless mistake. I truly regret having faith in her..." he spoke, his voice low and remorseful.
Feeling pity for her old comrade, Babette patted Nazir on the arm. "Look, it's not your mistake. It's hers. She'll see that when Sithis pours the Wrath over her like scalding water." Babette remarked, as Nazir nodded in agreement.
"...Maybe you're right." he replied, seeming somewhat at ease by her words.
"Now let's get our little dearie back, shall we?" Babette smirked deviously, pulling a long rope from her satchel.
Evening fell as Nazir arrived at Falkreath with Babette. He now stood in the prison chamber, jiggling a steel cuff that secured Lielle's hands above her drooped head. He was making doubly sure that she couldn't break free or blast anyone with a burst of gods-knew-what.
"I guess we'll deal with her later." Nazir remarked, wanting to get as far from the mage as possible. At one time, Nazir had faith in her growth as a fellow Speaker in their dark organization. However, he now felt nothing but contempt and seething anger toward her. She'd used him - - the only person who believed in her abilities - - and discarded him like trash.
"Ugh...Wh-where am...I?" Lielle's mumbling voice gripped his attention, halting his movement as he headed out the doorway.
"You're with your family now. You know - - the one you betrayed." Babette stood beside the mage, arms folded, and eyes narrowed accusingly.
Lielle's eyes grew wide and wild, as she instantly sobered up, crashing to her harsh reality. "WHAT?! NO! I DIDN'T!" she screamed, thrashing about in her chains and cuffs.
"Oh yes you did. I have proof. It's all over Skyrim that you and the Dragonborn are in cahoots. I've been following you since Morthal, dear." The tiny Vampire sneered, causing Nazir to draw closer to the two.
"BUT NAZIR! YOU BELIEVE ME, DON'T YOU?! I'M INNOCENT! I SWEAR TO SITHIS!" Lielle wailed, begging and desperate, and writhing with anger.
Nazir stepped up close to her, causing Lielle to grow quiet in his presence. Now merely inches from her face, he growled between clenched teeth. "Once I did believe in you, Lielle. I took you in. I saw your potential, but you squandered it! And on what? A fling with some overrated hero, that's what! If you would have listened to me, you would have been fine. But you didn't. I can't help you now. Sithis knows of your deeds, and he'll judge you accordingly. But mark my words, the Wrath will come. It always does..." he hissed with fury, now balling his fists and trying with every fiber of his being to control himself.
"Nazir, she's not worth it." Babette turned her nose up at the furious mage.
"Well maybe this would have never happened if you all didn't let such a pathetic weakling run this dump! Ava's like a festering wound - - she impairs you all! She makes you all just as weak and pathetic as she is!" Lielle screeched.
"She may have her flaws, but she's our leader." Nazir stated, turning away from her. "Sithis chose her, and by betraying her you are betraying him. Good luck with that." he remarked, nearing the door once more.
"You always favored her anyway, didn't you?" Lielle growled, causing Nazir to glare in her direction. She truly was a petty, spoiled, wicked little thing. He didn't know how he'd been so blind to it before.
"I guess now you'll never know." he replied, stepping out of the shadows of the prison with Babette falling in behind him. He glared straight ahead as he walked away, leaving the mage to writhe and hiss alone in her self-made torment.