Seraphina looked up at the statue with unhidden loathing; she cared little for the Aedra but the Daedric Princes she openly disliked. They were an evil lot and their worshippers, as far as she could tell, were just as bad, an unhinged, criminal and fanatical lot. The fact that the Thieves Guild held one in awe, Nocturnal, was not lost on Seraphina but as worship was not essential Seraphina could quite happily ignore the Daedric Prince.
The statue before her now was made of stone and raised high on a platform with a low cut wall behind it and offerings of nightshade before it. Behind were a few burnt out candles and currently unused benches for devout worshippers to rest upon. The statue itself looked female and humanoid, an elderly woman with four arms, two linked together in front of her and two outstretched at either side with their palms outwards. She wore a sleeveless dress with strips of cloth over her arms, a conical hat and a grotesque necklace of skulls, but the most horrific bit of her appearance was her sinister open mouthed smile out of which a long, pointed tongue hung.
"Mephala," Lucien commented quietly with a hint of amusement to his voice.
Seraphina ignored the assassin pointedly as she turned from the statue and wondered grimly where they were going. The Imperial killer had not yet been kind enough to reveal their destination to her. Indeed he had not revealed much at all, not his reasons for inducting her or what fate would have in store for her.
"The webspinner," Lucien continued jovially, "Daedric Prince of plots and, as I've read, murder, sex and secrets, what an intriguing and yet apt combination." His words rolled down Seraphina's spine causing her to suppress a shiver, she knew if he wanted he could be deadly with his words alone, for now he was humorous and charming but in a moment he could be cold and threatening, seductive and poisonous. "There are more than a few who suspect she is the Night Mother to whom we of the Dark Brotherhood pay heed. We praise our Unholy Matron. From her shadowed womb we were born, from her breast we suckle malice and pain. She loves her children, you see." He gave a small grin up to the malicious statue and then a low nod. "Only she knows the truth of that matter. Shall we continue then?" He turned away at last and began leading their way through the wilderness.
"What a web has been spun!" Seraphina tensed at the voice and looked about in alarm. "A thief and an assassin, but who is caught in whose web? That is the irony, the killer thinks he knows it all but time is against him and the Fox both."
Seraphina looked at Lucien sharply but he was still walking on, showing no signs of having heard any voice. It sounded old, female and mocking, in a malicious manner. "Who are you?" she whispered, afraid of Lucien hearing her.
"The webspinner, mistress of fates and much more! It is rare I speak to one so weak and without an offering but you have a mind open to possibilities, ready for moulding, you have potential and so many delicious paths to choose from- countess, heroine, thief, assassin, villain, they are endless!"
Lucien paused and glanced back at the blonde with displeasure, he made to speak until he saw how she cocked her head as if listening to someone. He strained his ears and looked about carefully but saw no signs of anyone else being near them.
"What do you want with me?" Seraphina queried nervously as she cast a brief glance at the statue. 'Is it her?' she wondered fearfully.
"Maybe nothing, maybe a great deal, time will tell depending on which strand of the web you choose. He thinks himself the spider but he is a mere fly on someone else's poisonous web, another delightful servant of mine. It is ironic how the ones who loathe death so much serve it so well."
"Who are you talking to?" Lucien demanded at last prompting Seraphina to look at him in surprise.
"Myself," she retorted coldly with an icy glare, "does that bother you?"
"Only when you fail to walk and talk at the same time," he answered tiredly, "do keep up."
They resumed walking once more, Seraphina hid her fear from her face but Lucien remained suspicious, little believing her lie. 'Perhaps I am merely suspicious because of where we were,' he thought to himself calmly. 'Unlikely the Daedric Prince would choose her to talk to.'
It was a cold morning, dry but grey as clouds gathered overheard, the woods were noisy as animals came to life with the sun, birds sang, branches shook as squirrels raced across them, twigs crunched under the feet of rabbits, foxes and deer, and wild goats brayed nearby. Lucien took it all in with ease, he identified each sound almost immediately, to the left a hare outrunning a fox before it caught its scent, up above a hawk circling low in the sky, to the right and out of sight a small brook babbled, home to some frogs and flies. Seraphina was just as observant, her skills as a thief had taught her to hone her sight and hearing as they might save her life, and her time with the woodsman Roland had led to her learning a good bit about the sounds of the wild.
Neither Imperial cared for the secrets of the wilds or the beauty, Lucien strode on with a deliberate purpose and Seraphina matched him, too angry and wary to take in the wildflowers or the rabbits. She wondered how long it would take the Gray Fox to find her and if even he could untangle her from this mess.
'Was it Mephala?' she pondered worriedly. 'She said the webspinner and that is what Lucien called her but why? Why speak with me? Is she Night Mother too then? I've not killed for them yet...surely this doesn't mean I'm doomed to be one.'
"Would it be too early in our relationship for you to reveal how you became close to the fabled Gray Fox?" Lucien queried calmly without a backward glance.
"What do you think?" Seraphina snarled as she glowered at his robed back. She knew she was being foolish, giving into him with her rage which was undoubtedly exactly what he wanted. Somehow the blonde could tell that the assassin was amused by her attitude and enjoyed further angering her.
"I think you and he are more than meets the eye," Lucien confessed, "that his mask is not just a disguise but something more powerful, that his legend has its origins like any other and that you may be the only one other than he who is privy to the truth of that."
"Is that what you want?" she demanded. "Is that why you have taken me against my will? To get at him?"
"It is a little more complicated than that," Lucien retorted. He cocked his head back to her slightly to give her a cool, brown eyed gaze. "You were not taken against your will," he murmured, "a choice was given and you made it."
"It was not much of a choice," she grumbled.
"It was still a choice," he answered smoothly. 'Young and foolish,' he thought condemningly, 'how has she survived for so long with thieves? Maybe the Fox sheltered her, nursed her along and shielded her from the big, bad world.' He gave a slight frown at his thoughts. 'A wasted opportunity if he did, she has such potential but there is time yet to make something of her.'
The rest of their journey continued in silence, they passed a ruined fort, an abandoned mine and several caves that unquestionably had wolves, rats, bears, or goblins lurking within. Once a boar had dared to lunge at them but Lucien had made fast work of it, he had moved so swiftly and suddenly, felling the beast with one blow, that Seraphina felt frightened. The Imperial male moved with such skill that she knew he could best her in seconds and so many others too, she had never met anyone, not even in the Thieves Guild, who had such speed, not even Methredhel was so quick with a weapon.
They came to a rest near a small Ayleid ruin, sitting down upon its smooth, marble steps. Lucien took out a canteen, taking a deep sip of it before offering it to Seraphina who unsurprisingly refused. The assassin smirked before putting it away with a shake of his head. "I suppose it could be poison and I have taken the antidote so as to trick you into thinking it is safe," he mused, "but then why would I go to all the hassle I have to gain you? Seems futile to poison you here after all that."
Seraphina knew he had a point but she refused to admit that as she stared up at the headless, winged statue that dominated the ruins. She recalled that the Ayleids had been elves, the first to form an empire in Tamriel; they were the founders of the Imperial City and had met their fate in the form of the slave queen Alessia. Umbacano had a particular interest in their relics, they were said to be of great value to certain collectors as they were so hard to obtain as the ruins contained many traps.
"How much further do we have to go?" Seraphina demanded as she studied her boots with feigned interest.
"Not far, it is only another couple of hours before you will meet your fate and family," the dark haired male retorted merrily.
The blonde gritted her teeth as she bit back an insult, there was simply no point. 'Family?' she thought hatefully. 'They robbed me of that! Oh if I knew which of them who did it, if I could avenge my mother and brother but...what good would it do? There would only be others to replace them and it would not bring my family back.'
The journey continued in a hateful silence, Lucien remained jovial and kept up a quick pace. At last they reached their destination, a walled city nestled between hills with a wide river running through it. The towers in the walls had unusual, purple coned roofs and rising up behind the walls were towering, fresh, green trees and a striking chapel.
Seraphina knew it was the city of Cheydinhal from several studies of maps she had made and the fact that had travelled to the east, but she had never visited it before. She was intrigued though she hid it from Lucien's curious amber-brown stare as he led the way up to the tall gates on the western side of the walls. The assassin wondered if the blonde knew where they were, he knew the thieves had a network all over Cyrodiil but that did not mean they all travelled. Yet she was the closest companion of the Gray Fox and didn't he seem to be everywhere?
They entered into a city much smaller than the Imperial City, half-wilderness and half-art it was an interesting combination of Dunmer and Imperial influence, its buildings architectural wonders of stone and wood with sloped purple roofs. All the buildings started as smooth round stones held together in wooden frames before giving way to panels of off-white wood with dark wooden frames and often intricate designs of wood with framed, arched and square windows. The streets were cobbled and surrounded by neat areas of grass up from which several trees sprouted, some tall and thin, others mighty and thick. The deep river was the dominating feature, with banks that were shallow in parts and steep in others, willow trees grew near these banks along with reeds. Many of the buildings were raised up on stone paths and had neatly kept clusters of pink and purple flowers growing by them whilst others had small, beautiful gardens before them, kept secure by iron fences.
The view past the walls was breathtaking, hills of soft, green grass cluttered with trees, and distant mountains framed the city giving it a picturesque setting, it gave the wrong impression that the city was a humble country dwelling. Seraphina was not fooled; if Lucien called this the home of his family then this was a dark place indeed.
The Imperial assassin led the way directly to a rundown looking house, it was large and shabby, once an impression building now it looked foreboding and dirty. All its windows were boarded up, tiles were missing from its roof and the large garden was overgrown and wild. Despite being in between two other buildings it stood out as an unwelcoming and yet eye-catching sight. Seraphina was not surprised when Lucien led them towards it, opening its rusting iron gate, which gave a satisfying and expected creak. The blonde frowned as she found herself in the building's heavy shadow and inching closer to its unsavoury form.
"That doesn't look safe," Seraphina grumbled.
"No, definitely not," Lucien retorted happily as he suppressed a laugh and reached for a handle almost lost between wooden boards. He picked the lock with ease and opened the door quietly and quickly, showing the boards to be nothing more than a front. Seraphina sucked in a breath and contemplated fleeing from him and this awful looking building but she knew he would follow and probably cut her down without mercy. 'It's just a house,' she told herself as she stepped up to it, 'you've slept in much, much worse. It's just old, that's all.' She knew she was wrong though, it was so much more than that, it was a den of evil.
Lucien frowned at her from the shadows of his cowl as she hesitated in following him. Once she was in, he leaned across her causing her to flinch in surprise. Seeing his taunting grin made her glower back childishly causing his grin to widen. With ease the Imperial pulled the door shut and relocked it. "Welcome to the house formerly known as Kratley House," Lucien introduced with a devilish grin as he waved a pallid hand outwards at the ruins before them. The stone floor was thick with dust, cobwebs hung in every corner and dangled from the ceiling in silvery white strands, rats creaked from the dark edges of the wall and spiders larger than Seraphina cared for scuttled across the floor noisily. There were scraps of cloth hinting at curtains and rugs, broken pieces of furniture that looked like they had once been fancy, chips of wood on the stone walls suggesting picture frames, and dirty chips of glass. The floor was made of stone tiles hinting at a wealthy owner once, though the tiles were scratched and dirtied beyond recognition. A set of wooden stairs led upwards and another led downwards into the gloomy dark.
"Take care while you are here," Lucien warned, "do not linger here in the night for whilst the masters of death reign below the dead reign above."
Seraphina rolled her eyes at the warning and instantly dismissed it as an attempt to further unnerve her. She followed him reluctantly down the stairs into a basement thick with dust and littered with even more debris and cobwebs. There were a few candles sagging in brass lanterns with their glass long broken but it only seemed to make the room worse as the shadows were longer, the eyes of the rodents seemed to glow and the things that moved had a more solid form. Seraphina subconsciously edged closer to the tall assassin and immediately regretted the movement; if anything or anyone was going to harm her down here it was him.
"Try not to get lost down here," Lucien remarked cruelly as he hurried on to a hole in the stone wall. He stepped through it revealing a long tunnel with a few candles lighting the way, it seemed to lead down and to the east of the house and started to become filled with an eerie, red glow as they walked up it.
Seraphina found herself pausing to look at her bare arms in the odd light; it was as if they were bathed in blood. She turned over her palms and paled, they were red with blood.
"What are you looking at?" Lucien questioned coldly as his eyes seemed to burn into her angrily. He stepped up to her, grabbing her right wrist before she could withdraw it. He turned it over and then back again, his fingers tracing over her knuckles and then her palm causing her hand to tingle. "So rough," he commented approvingly, "this hand has done a lot of illegal work over the years, fighting, stealing and stabbing."
Seraphina tried to yank it back, unable to subdue her sudden fury at his words. "It was an accident," she hissed out as his grip upon her tightened.
"Yes but Sithis got his dues either way and a blood contract was formed," Lucien retorted calmly. "You either kill for the Brotherhood or you do not kill at all."
"I won't kill at all," Seraphina protested as she met his stare at last. Cold, unforgiving and merciless, he dropped his charming facade and let her see the true gaze of a killer. 'He could kill me in an instant and never think of me again,' she realised as she tried to suppress her horror. 'This is just a moment of fun for him, an amusement and if he grows weary of it I die. If I push him too hard then he will kill me even if it means losing his tie to the Gray Fox, yes that's important to him but not enough to entertain my protests.'
"That would be a waste," the assassin retorted quietly as he released her wrist at last and turned away.
The blonde followed without protest down to the corridor and closer to the source of the light. It was a door but not like any the thief had seen before and she had seen her fair share of oddities when out on a job for the Thieves Guild. It had numerous arches around it, two of stone and four of ebony and wood, at the top was a cruel faced skull with a glowing red handprint on its brow, the source of the light, and below the skull's grin was a woman towering before four cowering figures, they were meek, their hands up in fear as she reached out to them with a dagger and a mallet.
"What is the colour of the night?" The question came from an inhuman, masculine voice that seemed to echo around the tunnel.
Seraphina's green eyes widened as she wondered momentarily if another voice had decided to intrude upon her thoughts.
"Sanguine my brother," Lucien answered calmly before grasping the large, iron knocker and raising it slightly before pushing into the door to open the heavy door. It gave way with effort and opened up into a surprisingly large chamber of stone.
It was a wide area with heavy pillars of stone in the middle, from which stone arches ran to support the ceiling and on which tapestries hung depicting a black handprint in a pale gold oval surrounded by deep crimson. There were iron lanterns hanging from chains from the ceiling and tall candelabras of brass and bronze on poles, clean, colourful carpets warmed up the stone floor and several wooden benches and desks offered places of rest. If not for the ominous tapestries and company, Seraphina might have found the area cosy, welcoming even but as it was she hung back in Lucien's shadows, afraid that the blonde Breton who was approaching them might whip out a dagger and end her.
"Lucien!" the Breton trilled happily. "Welcome, brother! Can I assist you with anything?" She approached him with an eager smile and Seraphina was disgusted to see the unhidden adoration in her blue eyes for the man. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties, active with a toned body clad in black leather with strips of maroon, she had an unremarkable, plain face, a short, golden bob, a long nose, and a slightly stumpy appearance.
"Can you find Ocheeva and Vicente for me, Antoinetta?" Lucien retorted politely.
The blonde nodded eagerly and answered, "oh of course! Vicente is taking a nap and Ocheeva is practising with her knives again, she's getting better," she rambled. She turned away and hurried off, still remarking about Ocheeva's dagger skills.
Lucien tugged down his hood at last revealing sleek hair as dark as a raven's pelt bound up in a long ponytail. He had a pleasing enough profile, stern with a hint of stubble below his rosebud shaped lips, his nose pointed down and his eyebrows were slightly bushy and a few wrinkles hinted at his age on his brow. "Welcome to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary Seraphina Polita," he commented brightly with a glimmer of malice in his gaze.
"Shove your welcome up your ass," the blonde retorted heatedly.
Lucien held back a small smile of amusement, swallowing down a response as several footsteps alerted him to new arrivals. The Breton Antoinetta practically skipped up the wide hall ahead of a lithe Argonian clad in brown armour with a scarf of dark crimson over her chest, and a pasty faced male who moved in a predatory manner.
Seraphina's throat turned dry as the male grew closer and her sudden bravado left her as she tried to take in just what exactly he was. He was clad all in black with wide trousers that were almost a blue black, a soft, long sleeved shirt of jet black and a vest over it, held together with cross-over lacing in the centre, steel buckles and a black leather belt, and black boots of worn down leather. At his back a longsword's golden handle shoulder over his left shoulder. He looked like a twisted version of a Breton; his skin was tight against his face, his cheekbones prominent, his eyes sunken and the groves below his eyebrows prominent. His hair was a thick, long, chestnut brown, snared into a more elegant ponytail than Lucien's and left to hang over his back, and his eyes, his eyes Seraphina could not tear her emerald stare away from. Red, red, red, red, everything down here was red! Red like the blood she could never wash off her hands, red like the blood she would shed again and again and again in slavery to the dread god Sithis and his malevolent servant Lucien Lachance.
"Greetings Lucien," the Argonian said warmly, "welcome back to our humble sanctuary! And how may we help you?"
"Greetings Ocheeva," Lucien retorted back. He gestured to Seraphina with one hand and remarked, "please give greeting to Sithis' newest servant, Seraphina Polita. The Night Mother has willed her to us so embrace her as family." He looked to Seraphina with a slight sneer and added, "mind, she seems unwilling as some children of death can but she has the potential to be great."
Ocheeva looked at the blonde curiously whilst Antoinetta frowned and the pale faced male looked concerned. "Greetings then sister, I am Ocheeva, mistress of this sanctuary," she commented politely.
"I am not your sister," Seraphina spat back quickly.
Lucien gave a short laugh. "The knife cut reluctantly but it still cut Sera," he taunted before his gaze flickered to the hungry looking Breton. "Vicente a word please. Ocheeva please make our sister," he took care to emphasise the word, "feel at home." He felt the ice in Seraphina's glare and it made his smile widen as he led the way to the back of the chamber followed by the Breton male.
"Let me welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood," Ocheeva began, forcing merriment into her voice.
"No one could feel welcome here," Seraphina responded bitingly as she folded her arms and frowned at Antoinetta as she sensed her glare.
Ocheeva chose to ignore the remark and continued on. "You stand in our sanctuary. May it serve as your new home, a place of comfort and security whenever the need arises."
"Comfort? Security? With killers?" Seraphina snapped in outrage. "What nonsense!"
"To Oblivion with you then you hateful little shrew," Antoinetta retorted carelessly. "You don't know how lucky you are to have the Dark Mother call you and for Lucien himself to bring you here to our family. You don't deserve our embrace!"
"Antoinetta," Ocheeva scolded with a frown of disapproval, "Lucien is our Hand, and it is not for us to judge his decisions."
Antoinetta frowned, mumbled a curse and then turned and scurried off from them.
Towards the back of the rooms in the shadows Lucien and Vicente discussed Seraphina quietly. "I need you to watch her," Lucien remarked firmly, "I do not need her fleeing the sanctuary or the Brotherhood. You will give her, her jobs, small at first, and see that she is observed. She is a skilled thief and I have no objection to her doing jobs for their guild but not just yet, not until she has come around to the Brotherhood."
"Lucien, why?" Vicente queried curiously. "It seems a lot of effort, is she truly so skilled?"
"No," Lucien admitted, "but in time her skills as a thief combined with a nurtured bloodlust could turn her into an accomplished assassin. I need her in the Brotherhood my friend, tell no one else this but know it for yourself that I need her. In time I will let you know more but for now all you need to know is that you are to train and watch her. I will return in a month and I hope by then that she has made a kill for us."
Vicente sighed. "She's going to be trouble isn't she?" he questioned softly.
Lucien nodded happily. "Yes but the best ones are."
"Alright brother I will see it done."
"Thank you my friend."
Lucien led the way back to Seraphina and Ocheeva who were sharing an awkward silence. "Dear child I must leave you here to clutch at the bosom of the Night Mother and open yourself up to your new family," he addressed Seraphina. "Embrace your fate and know that the Brotherhood is always watching."
"Will you back?" Seraphina asked frostily.
"Oh yes my dear so do not think of running, your swift feet will never carry you from my grasp." With those final words Lucien turned from the blonde and said to the others, "farewell Ocheeva and Vicente I will see you both in time."
"Farewell brother," they retorted almost in unison.
He turned and retreated back the way he had come abandoning Seraphina to her grim fate.