Sera scowled as she was restrained for a third time and escorted by two villagers with a Brethren in front and behind her. She and Dar-ma had been bound in ropes and were marched through a tunnel to The Gathering apparently. The blonde could see Jiv shuffling ahead uncomfortably, he had deliberately avoided eye contact with her and she knew he was too spineless to offer any help.
"Where are you taking us?" the Argonian demanded fearfully. "Please, I was only delivering goods!"
"The Deep Ones demand a blood sacrifice, quickly now while the moon is still high!" This excited yell came from an Imperial woman who led the crowd of armed villagers, she clutched closely in one hand an old looking book bound in black leather and in her other hand she wielded a sickle.
As they moved the ground became damper and puddles began to appear as the ground started to slope. Stalactites appeared overhead dripping cold water onto Sera prompting her to grunt and shake her head, earning a painful shove from a Brethren. In anger, Sera shoved her bound hands hard into the lower region of the villager to her right and then kicked to her left, hitting the woman there hard in the knees. Momentarily free she made to run for it but the blunt end of a hammer hitting her from behind ended that quickly. The blonde slumped to the ground in a daze and a sharp kick to the skull rendered her unconscious.
Lucien Lachance, who had been following and observing all thanks to an invisibility potion, thought several curses when the blonde was knocked out. For a moment he had been surprised, even pleased when he saw her fight off her assailants once more but the success had been too brief for him to intervene. Now, in light of another failure, he went back to mentally scolding the girl for being a witless, sympathetic fool and cursed her for having morals, sketchy as they were. The assassin began following again, taking care to avoid treading in a small brook and drawing attention to himself and then dodging several puddles. It began to get harder for the Imperial to avoid water as the ground soon became slick with it and he was unable to stay away from all the puddles but thankfully no one seemed to notice the splashing as they were all doing it.
'What in Oblivion is going on here?' he wondered in irritation. 'These people must be in a Daedric Prince cult but whom or what are the Deep Ones?'
They finally ended their journey in a large chamber that was mostly subdued under water, a lake that had a surface like black glass shimmered under the glow of torches hanging on the walls. In the lake's centre was a small island of stone on which an odd, old and worn statue stood. It was made of stone and a golden metal, and was tall and elven like with distinctive pointed ears, a being with an oblong hat that had crumbled on one side and a beard, and was dressed in armour and robes of a style Lucien did not recognise. At this being's feet was another statue of a plainer stone and without metal, it had been worn badly, by age and by numerous hands touching it. It was crouched and looked amphibious and like nothing Lucien had ever seen, something with webbed feet he thought.
Sera came to thanks to a painful nudge and was yanked to her feet and dragged forward by the villagers to where a stone table had been set in the lake at the shallow edge. Both females were forced down side by side over the table, their feet submerged in the water as their heads were left dangling facing down at it.
Lucien thought several more curses when the Imperial woman approached them, her book now open in one hand and the sickle held high above her head. "Your blood will go to the Deep Ones and their knowledge will come to us!" she cried out dramatically before swinging the sickle down.
Everything happened fast, the Imperial woman let out a scream and jerked upright as a blade seemed to appear out of thin air in her back. She dropped the sickle and it sliced the right side of Sera's neck as it fell. As the woman collapsed into the water with a loud splash Lucien's form appeared out of nothing, dark and shadowy, for a moment he had the villagers frozen in confusion and fear. He used the opportunity to slice free Sera and Dar-Ma's bonds before urging them upright. They turned to the villagers who immediately charged to them with a cry and the assassin wondered grimly if even he would make it out.
Before the villagers could make it to the water's edge there was a rumble and the whole cavern seemed to shake. A few paused with a cry of fear, throwing their hands up over the heads as debris started to fall from above whilst the Brethren continued to glower at Lucien and the others and move forward menacingly.
"Earthquake!" a man cried out as the ground continued to quiver and the lake rippled and then churned. The island in the middle split in two and the statue was torn apart with the movement causing the villagers to gasp in horror and some to throw themselves to their knees with a wail.
Sera glanced at it, her eyes widening slightly as something seemed to be rising up from the lake. She was frozen as she started to make out the dripping wet points of turrets and towers made of marble and the same golden metal the statue had been made from. As they rose and windows began to appear she filled with fear as she saw horrid, dark skinned beings with odd, frog like eyes peering out the windows and pressing large, webbed hands against them. The building, for that was what it was, was decorated with the gleaming statues of bearded, pointy eared men in robes and armour, and its arched windows all had those horrid, amphibious creatures looking out of them and hissing through missing panes.
In the centre of the building something even more awful began to appear as the water started to churn and bubble madly as if boiling. It was another statue, rising up where the former statue had stood only it was far bigger and more monstrous. It was like nothing Sera had seen before, grotesque and carved of marble and gold with jasper enamel and emeralds decorating it, it was a mass of flesh with large eyes on its body, many eyed tentacles surrounding it and two large pinchers at its front clutching a stone book between them.
Having seen enough and certain that if the building rose any higher it would smash the cave ceiling onto them, Lucien seized Sera and Dar-Ma by one hand each and dragged them away, taking advantage of the chaos. None of the villagers seemed to notice or care for their retreat, stunned as they continued to gawk at the rising building.
"You have served me well blood of immortal mages, willing or not.' Sera stumbled as a voice called through her head causing Lucien to glare at her before tugging her on. 'These fools thought any blood would do, I would say it was mere luck that brought you here but I see Mephala's taint on you, so fate then."
"Who are you?" the blonde croaked weakly. The voice was horrible, deep, commanding and terrifying.
"I am Hermaeus Mora. I am the guardian of the unseen, and knower of the unknown. It is only fitting that the Dwemer sought me to protect their secrets and so I did in exchange for knowledge but the knowledge is used now and the blood is spilled and so they, mistaken for Deep Ones, have returned as these fools fought."
"Deep Ones?"
"My loyal lurkers, helpers to the Dwemer in the sunken towers. They are very hungry, it is well you run."
At those words Sera's heart began to pound harder and she began to run so fast she was soon dragging Lucien. The assassin, who had been wondering if she had gone mad again, looked at her in surprise as he struggled to keep up with her sprint.
It was to her relief that they made it back to a ladder and she hastened up it to the basement of someone's house. Without pausing for breath, the blonde fled up and outside, looking up to the stars in disbelief, as if afraid that they had gone and she was trapped underground forever.
"Wait," Dar-Ma called out hoarsely as Lucien shook her off, "my horse Blossom is here somewhere!"
"We have no time to care," Lucien scorned as he glowered at the blonde. "I hope you've learnt your lesson."
"What lesson?" she snapped at him as she only became aware of the stabbing pain in her neck. She reached up with one hand and it came away with blood. 'Immortal mage blood,' the words echoed in her head as she looked at the carmine stain in confusion. She let out a shriek when she saw a skull with a worm sticking out its right socket shining back at her.
"What now?" Lucien snapped angrily.
Dar-Ma abandoned the pair to their bickering to search anxiously for her horse.
"Nothing," the blonde snarled as she rubbed her hand on her trouser leg.
Lucien looked at her wound disapprovingly before lifting up the end of his sable robe and slicing off a strip with his dagger in one fluid motion. He moved towards her and she jerked back instinctively, prompting him to frown. "You will bleed out," he scolded her. She allowed him to wrap the scrap of dark cloth about her neck as a tourniquet. "Enough of this nonsense, let's head to Chorrol."
"Nonsense?" Sera echoed as he started walking.
"I warned you not to bother with the Argonian," he scorned her, "if not for me you would have ended up sacrificed to...well whatever it was."
"Hermaeus Mora," Sera mumbled.
"What?" The assassin paused and gave her an odd look over his shoulder. "Hermaeus Mora," he repeated, "the Daedric Prince of knowledge? Hmm well I suppose the statue could have bore a resemblance. Hmm, I was right then, they were Daedra worshippers." He shook his head in disapproval.
"We made it out didn't we," she snapped at him hotly, "us and Dar-Ma."
"Oh right so it was worth it, was it?" he retorted sardonically as he looked ahead to the dark road and started to walk.
"Yes," she replied moodily.
"No, you're going to learn quick my child that every life is most certainly not worth it. You did not hesitate to cut down Berich yet you blunder into danger for an Argonian you know nothing about, why? Were you trying to prove a point? Trying to tell yourself that you are still good? It's too late, your hands are stained with the blood offering to Sithis forever and your soul is eternally shades of grey. Embrace it Sera, you want it, I can see it."
"No," she argued with a shake of her head. She was beginning to feel ill again and her body was starting to shiver, she swallowed down a lump of bile as she caught flashes of men in long robes mingling with images of those terrifying amphibian beasts in the rising towers. What had that been? Why had it been in a lake?
'You are inquisitive young one, an able minded servant for me, knowledge is power and understanding that early is key.'
"Stop it," she grumbled under her breath as she clutched her skull tightly with both hands and shook it.
"Stop what?" Lucien demanded wearily.
'You cannot shut me out, no one who seeks to learn can. All who seek after the secrets of the world are my servants and you are a thief, most definitely a seeker of secrets.'
She grumbled a curse and shook her head defiantly once more. "I'm not."
"Not what?" Lucien halted to look at her. "Are you having a moment Sera? Another mumbling fit of insanity? I do wish you would at least give warning or some sort of explanation," he remarked patronisingly.
"Yes I'm the insane one here," she retorted sardonically, "not the one who runs about in black robes stabbing people and inducting other people into a murderous cult for fun." She gave him a wilting stare which he pointedly ignored.
The assassin was about to reply when the Argonian rejoined them on her slightly lame white and brown mare. "Will you come with me to Chorrol?" she queried anxiously.
"Of course," Sera retorted with a small smirk before Lucien could refuse.
The assassin rolled his amber-brown eyes and remarked, much to the blonde's annoyance, "that was my plan anyway."
So the three set off for Chorrol under the pale light of Secunda at a slow but steady pace. Sera stumbled a few times on hidden rocks and cursed herself mentally for it, she was not used to being so clumsy but her body was tired and her mind heavy with confusing thoughts of Daedric Princes, assassins and something else she wasn't quite sure she wanted to delve into.
It was under a pale blue sky that the odd trio and one lame horse finally neared Chorrol. The town stood up ahead on a mountain slope behind high, stone walls, before it were the stables and the priory, its trees lush and vibrant under the rising sun.
Sera tensed as she saw movement at the priory, men in armour with masks of steel, and monks either fleeing from them or running at them. As they neared they began to hear the cries of battle and fear as unarmed monks were cut down by these strange people in armour with red cowls. The blonde was about to run to the aid of them when another sprinted out of the priory with two swords raised. He cut one warrior down with ease from behind before turning and tackling another. Sera's emerald eyes went wide as she realised he was no stranger. Dark hair and blue eyes, a younger mirror image of Sam, a man who called himself Fenrick Burd when she was so certain he was really Thomas Goldwine.
"I wonder who they are," Lucien remarked with intrigue.
Sera tensed at the assassin's voice as a wild thought took her, Lucien couldn't know, he had never suspected her, or he wouldn't have bothered with his games but what if... It was ludicrous, if he had any knowledge of the Goldwine survivors she would know and yet an irrational fear overtook her anyway. If Fenrick really was Thomas, then he was as much in danger from the assassins as she, what if Lucien looked at him and just knew? 'He couldn't,' she scorned herself, 'he looks far more like Sam than mother and none of the assassins could know of Sam, could they? This is nonsense but I can't risk it!'
The blonde fought with the urge to rush to Fenrick's aid, not that he seemed to need it, or to go to him and demand more information about himself from him. Instead she let out a feverish groan and staggered convincingly to one side.
Lucien looked to her sharply and gripped her by her right arm. "No more battles we don't need," he grumbled before he pulled her on to Chorrol's gates.
Sera allowed the assassin to escort her forward though it sickened her to have him lead her like a dog. She winced at the cries of a monk as he was stabbed and resisted the urge to glance back.
"Oh dear," Dar-Ma mourned as Blossom danced about skittishly at the noise. "Shouldn't we help?"
"Help if you want," Lucien answered coldly, "it is here that we part ways sweet Dar-Ma. You would be wiser to go to your mother's skirts however, and see your lame horse to a stable and a blacksmith."
"He's right," Sera said through gritted teeth, though she thought him a heartless, self-preserving coward. 'Of course what am I then?' she wondered hatefully.
"Wise," came the deep voiced, masculine answer. "Those with knowledge know that not all battles are easily won. Fear not for the Hero of Kvatch, he is a most impressive mortal, he will not be cut down so easily."
"Hero of Kvatch?" Sera spoke aloud dumbly without meaning to.
"Sera you really must introduce me to this invisible friend of yours," Lucien commented mockingly.
"I will leave Blossom at the stables," Dar-Ma said, "but just give me a moment then I can take you to my mother's shop; she will be able to give you supplies."
"For a low fee I hope," Lucien commented dryly as he considered it.
"Of course," the young Argonian retorted happily as she dismounted from her mare.
It took ten minutes for the Argonian to explain her mare's problems to the stable hand and assure him that she would return with coin for the cost of treatment before she led the way up to the town's gates.
The first thing they laid eyes on in the town was a dramatic stone statue of a woman cradling a slain man in her lap, his shield fallen off the stone pedestal and his sword just out of reach. Sera looked at it with distain considering it a rather romanticised image of a fallen soldier. She knew how easy it was to cut a guard down, how they could fall choking on their own blood and crying for their mothers, it was not always a heroic fall in battle nor did they usually last their wounds enough to go home and fall in their lover's embrace.
"This way," Dar-Ma urged as she led them north.
They ascended up cobbled stones, bypassing boulders, numerous trees and several chatty pedestrians. Lucien walked briskly, ill at ease in the town as he was not well acquainted with the assassins that lingered in it. They were under the thumb or finger rather of Speaker Belisarius Arius, an Imperial who did not seem to enjoy promotion much. Lucien had had little dealings with the dour man and gathered that he would rather be out butchering than planning, a dangerous man to be sure but then who wasn't in the Brotherhood?
They reached their destination swiftly. The Northern Goods and Trades was a well kept, fancy, two storey shop, its bottom floor stone and its top floor wood and fine, diamond paned glass. It was raised on several stone steps and had a wooden sign with its name sticking out of its wall, firmly fixed in iron the sign would not easily fall victim to the wind.
Dar-Ma hurried up the steps briskly with a squeal of joy, not even pausing to see if her odd rescuers followed, which they did. Once inside the shop, Lucien looked about it curiously as the Argonian was greeted by an older Argonian female who trilled at her in delight before babbling at her briskly.
"Where have you been Dar-Ma? I've been so worried!"
"In Hackdirt!" Dar-Ma exclaimed. "Those people were awful; they locked me in a cage and wanted to sacrifice me!" She turned then to the blonde and the dark haired male and beamed at them brightly. "These two saved me! He was so heroic," she exclaimed as her green cheeks darkened just a little and she pointed at Lucien, "he appeared out of thin air, so dashing, and freed us."
Sera let out a chuckle that she tried and failed to hide as a cough, prompting Lucien to glance at her sideways in suspicion. "She must've banged her head on the way out of those tunnels," Sera mumbled under her breath.
"I am dashing," Lucien bragged with a sneer.
The older Argonian broke from her daughter and approached the pair. "Thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed joyfully. "I can never repay you for your gift of my daughter's life, but you have my friendship and gratitude to the end of my days."
"Mother they need supplies," Dar-Ma piped up, "it was horrible there and Sera was injured." She pointed at Sera's rag scarf.
"Oh dear," the older Argonian clucked. "Come upstairs, I have salves there we can treat you with and then you can tell me what you need, if I have it, it is yours."
"Thank you," Sera retorted humbly as she allowed the Argonian to take her by the hand and guide her upstairs.
It took an hour before Sera and Lucien were free to go, as the Argonian mother, Seed-Neeus, insisted on treating to them to lunch in her shop and Dar-Ma also insisted on them staying, Lucien in particular. The young Argonian seated herself beside the much older male and insisted on talking about Hackdirt, despite her mother's protests and shudders. As she talked, she doubled the number of foes for Lucien in the tunnels and almost ignored Sera's role entirely, much to her chagrin. Once they were done, Seed-Neeus offered them some potions and food supplies for the road and Dar-Ma pushed upon Lucien a fine new cloak of the deepest blue, to replace his tattered, bloodstained, black robes, and a bronze medallion to remember their adventure. The Imperial accepted it all with false gratitude and a feigned smile that charmed both Argonians and he left them none the wiser to his darker interests.
"You're shameless," Sera scorned the man as they exited to an early afternoon.
"I did save her," Lucien reminded her, "I saved you both, I deserve my rewards, I deserve more for all the trouble I've went through for you."
"It's for something that you went through it all," the blonde accused coldly. "Something you want the Gray Fox to get you."
"Exactly," he praised with a smirk. "Now come, let us find some private quarters in an inn where you can explain why exactly I found you babbling in the woods."
Sera sighed and said nothing as the assassin led them to the shabby Grey Mare and purchased a single room upstairs. It was small, dark and wholly unpleasant but better than some quarters the blonde had stayed in. She took a seat reluctantly and looked to the man expectantly as she awaited the interrogation.
"I found you north of Kvatch in the muck saying strange things, care to elaborate?" he queried carefully.
Sera shrugged. "I don't remember much after Kvatch until Hackdirt," she answered truthfully.
"I hear the end of the world has started in Kvatch," Lucien remarked calmly, "that the city was on fire when you reached it and rife with daedra."
Sera tensed visibly under his curious gaze. Did he know about Thomas after all? Had someone seen how she had looked at him? Had they seen how she had cut Berich down without the subtly Lucien had demanded? Refusing to confirm his suspicions of her she merely nodded. "Yes, it was rather unpleasant."
Lucien let out a chuckle at that. "Putting it mildly I would think sister."
"I'm not your sister," she snapped automatically.
"No, you only sully your bloodline with thieves, I had forgotten that," he taunted her. "So what happened after Kvatch?"
"I headed north and..."
"What a pretty morsel to stumble upon our dark secrets."
"Shall we kill her?"
A smile, a pretty, perfect and horrifying smile. "No, I do not believe in coincidences, this morsel has come to me with a purpose. Thrall? Zombie? What shall I make you?"
Sera bit back a scream and found herself clenching her stool tightly with both hands, her nails digging grooves into the soft wood. "I...there were people, I found people...red skulls..."
It had been dark in the woods and she had been lost, foolishly wandering without thinking, driven by grief and guilt. When she had seen the fire she had been hopeful, she had thought she had been subtle in trying to spy who had lingered there but someone had seen her. Sharp, blue eyes and hollow black ones in red skulls had seen her.
"There were red skulls," she said in confusion, "many skulls, and..."
It came to her in a moment of disgusting clarity. There had been an altar of stone and on it some poor, bloodied and beaten Bosmer wretch, a young male, who had looked at her with terrified, green eyes.
"Watch," a voice had commanded. She had wanted to look away then but his voice had been so commanding. So she had watched, helpless, as the Bosmer had been sacrificed in front of her by six daggers stabbing down in a horrid frenzy. She had tasted bile and wondered if this was a cult to a Daedric Prince or simply an act of madness. When he had finally died she had thought, hoped, that that was it but she had been terribly wrong.
The leader, a being in robes as red as blood, had chanted some foreign words under his breath and waved his pallid hands outwards and the Bosmer had jerked and shuddered and his skin had rotted before her eyes. The smell in the air had turned unbearable and she had vomited then as she had tasted the odour of the dead as against all laws the Bosmer had risen up again, a rotting, moving corpse.
"They raised the dead!" she choked out in a moment of horror as she swallowed down a mouthful of sick. She shook her head wildly and immediately discarded the memory, refusing to learn anymore.
"They?" Lucien echoed curiously as he raised a dark eyebrow.
"There were at least seven, all in robes, I don't know who or what they were."
"And how did you get away from them?" Lucien demanded.
Sera shook her head helplessly at that. "I don't know," she confessed before adding fiercely, "what concern is it of yours anyway?"
He grinned back at her icily. "My concern is that I had to be burdened with it, and I worry that if I let you out of my sight you will only fall victim to trouble again. Perhaps I should insist you stay in Cheydinhal."
"No," she snarled out hatefully. "I am not your prisoner."
"No," he agreed, "you are my collateral and so you must be preserved. Twice now I have saved you, show some gratitude for it is rare that the Dark Brotherhood sees lives spared."
Sera suppressed a shudder at the coldness in his voice before retorting softly, "thank you." Her voice was bitter but sincere as she acknowledged reluctantly that he was right, he had saved her twice.
"Now then, isn't it nicer when we're friends?" he teased. "If you promise to stay out of danger and to be at Cheydinhal within a week's time to receive your next target from Vicente then I will leave you now and let you have a week's reprieve from Sithis' business."
Sera looked at him in instant suspicion and knew that even if he truly meant to leave her she would never be out of the Brotherhood's sight. "And why would you trust me?" she snapped.
"Because Roland Jenseric's head could still make a fine decoration upon a spike," he retorted blithely.
"You're a monster," she accused hatefully.
"We are both monsters Sera I just embrace it better." He stood up then, rewarding her with another mocking smile. "Can I take leave of you then with the assurance that you won't seek out dead raising strangers and Daedra loving cults on your own?"
"If it pleases you," she grumbled sardonically.
"Good. Enjoy the sights of Chorrol my dear, you might it enjoy it and I will see you soon." He stood up and slipped out of the room silently abandoning Sera to her gloomy surroundings.
The blonde waited an hour though it felt like longer and during it she stood up to go several times before cautioning herself against it. She had only one destination in mind and feared she would arrive there much too late. Yet to go too soon meant risking Lucien following her. She realised angrily that he could linger for several hours in wait for her but she just had to risk it. After an hour she decided that her curiosity would not last and so she exited the inn and headed to the exit of the town.
She moved casually, using the trades of a thief to be aware of her surroundings without making it obvious. As far as she could tell she was not being spied upon or followed but she knew bitterly that the assassin stalking her could have far better skills than she. It was an age old nightmare, the thought of a shadowy figure stalking her through the streets just waiting for the opportune moment. It had taken a few years of screaming into the Gray Fox's lap in the night before she had finally suppressed those nightmares but the fear had never quite left her and now it was as fresh as ever.
As she exited the town and headed to the priory she paused just once, fearing that her need to know the truth of Fenrick might endanger them both but how could she risk losing him again? What if he really was her twin? She had to know! So she summoned up her courage and continued on.
There were bloodstains on the cobbles and the guards of the town had appeared at last and were dealing with the bodies of monks and their strange foes.
A monk was talking to the guards, Sera caught the words 'Mythic Dawn' before she moved on, heading past them to the stunned Dunmer who hovered near the horses, patting one's neck rapidly, more to soothe himself than the beast.
"What happened to the man who was fighting here?" Sera was quick to the point, hoping that if she acted like she partially knew what was going on he might be more open with information.
"Huh?" The Dunmer looked at her in surprise; he had not even noticed her approaching. "Who are you?" he queried.
"A friend," she assured, "I know the man who was fighting here, Fenrick, where did he go?" Seeing recognition on the Dunmer's face gave her a spark of hope.
"He just showed up, with a Brother Martin," the Dunmer babbled, "but it was chaos, they were looking for Jauffre. I was in the sheepfold when they attacked," he confessed. "I heard the Prior talking to someone. Looked around the corner to see who it was. They looked like travellers, ordinary. Suddenly weapons appeared in their hands and they cut the Prior down before he could move! They saw me watching and I ran." He bowed his head in shame and shook it.
"That's understandable," Sera sympathised, "you were unarmed, had you stayed you would have only been cut down too and no use to anyone."
"What use am I now?" he queried weakly.
"You can help me," she insisted. "Where did Fenrick and this Brother Martin go?" Brother Martin, she remembered that name, that had been who Fenrick had supposedly been seeking in Kvatch, so he had found him then and come here for someone named Jauffre but why?
The Dunmer looked up at her with a degree of suspicion in his weary eyes. "Wouldn't they have told you?" he demanded. "If you are a friend?"
She shook her head helplessly. "We were separated at Kvatch," she confessed, "I had not realised they were here, their plans must have changed. Please, it's very important that I find Fenrick again." She put on her best pleading expression, one she had used many times before to wheedle out of trouble with Armand and even a couple of times to persuade Sam to give her a discount on his wares.
The Dunmer sighed heavily. "I...I heard Jauffre talk of Cloud Ruler Temple but with what happened you mustn't say to anyone else!"
"Of course not," she vowed seriously. "Where is Cloud Ruler Temple?" she queried.
"North of Bruma, but that's all I know."
Sera nodded gratefully. "Thank you, and I assure you, you did the right thing." She turned away from him then, fixed her satchel up on her shoulder and turned in a northerly direction. Bruma was far but they couldn't be that much ahead of her, a couple of hours at the very most.