Chapter 11: The Dreams and the Plans
Chains were binding Lucia down to the cold stone floor, holding her limbs tightly around her wrists and ankles. Around her was an impenetrable haze of grey color, preventing her from seeing her surroundings. She blinked but it did not help. There was nothing, just terrifying quiet. She could move slightly, only to remind herself of the fact that she was chained down. The metal bracelets connected to the chains hurt her and cut into her flesh. She was alone, no jailer had ever come to her. She had no recollection of how or why she got here, nobody had told her what was going to happen to her. She could hear her own heart beating, the only sound present. It sounded like battle drums.
Suddenly she noticed a presence. It was behind her at it was getting closer. A great dark presence which was threatening to swallow her along with the grey haze and the floor underneath her feet. No, it wasn't a presence. It was something that denied all existence. An anti-presence. A nothing. The Void.
For a moment she thought she saw it. It had the shape of a fragile human. But then she was sure she had been mistaken. It was a giant black dragon, the biggest she'd ever seen. But maybe not even that. It didn't have a shape. It didn't have a body. It didn't exist. And yet it existed.
The Void was getting closer and closer. She knew she had to escape but the chains holding her down were uncompromising. She shook her hands and feet violently. It hurt. The metal bit her, engraved a burning scar in her pale skin. Her flesh was on fire and she gasped. Everything around her was trying to make her give up on life. She clung to it making it the last certainty in this world. She was alive. She wanted to live!
The Void licked her toes. She could feel them crumbling apart.
No! I want to live! Please!
Her whole body was turning into grey dust, slowly fading into nothingness. The roaring non-existent presence which was neither human nor dragon was devouring her, making her mind go blank.
I don't want this... somebody... help me... please...
The vision blurred before her eyes, replacing the image of her small grey world with a different one.
This time, she was standing on a terrace on one side of a giant volcano. She felt hot, streams of sweat running down her whole body. Around her was Oblivion. Burning rivers of magma floated down the mountain sides, joining in a huge lake deep down below the terrace Lucia was standing on. The whole place was covered in crimson vapors making it difficult to breathe. Her body was stinging, burned by the hot sparks that were flying about endlessly. There was no sky above her and no real land below her, just the volcano, an infinite number of lava rivers and lakes, the hot crimson vapors and a thick smokescreen spreading from the volcano's throat.
A huge flush of magma suddenly came from the crater above, threatening to flood the terrace. It seemed as if it was almost alive, watching her, studying her before it flowed over the edge of the crater. There was a presence inside it. The same ethereal presence she had noticed in the vision before. A fiery dragon appeared before Lucia's eyes and then disappeared as quickly as it materialized.
There was nowhere to run. The terrace was short and narrow, barely allowing her to run a few yards. She looked around frantically. She felt more miserable than before, being unable to escape despite not being chained down. She wanted to have wings to fly away. She remembered the feeling of soaring up to the skies, the feeling of absolute freedom. It threw her into an even greater despair.
The dark red wave was coming closer. She looked around one last time before cuddling up on the ground, hugging her knees. She closed her eyes in horror, awaiting the Void to burn her to nothingness along with the rest of this cursed place. Then, her vision blurred and disappeared.
Lucia opened her eyes and gasped. She was shaking heavily, beads of sweat channeling down her face and body. A mass of emotions swirled around in her head and she could suddenly feel tears welling up in her eyes.
"Why are you doing this to me?!" she yelled. "I hate you so much!"
"Quiet!" a voice from the corridor outside ordered her firmly. "You'd do well to remember your place. You're having a pretty good life over there, don't make me ruin it for you!"
"You ran away again, my child," he spoke to her softly, his gentle voice ringing in her mind. "You have to learn to use just what you have. You are human and as a human you strive for your life. You have to understand the difference, find your own strength."
"I had nothing to use!" she shouted in her thoughts. "Are you enjoying this?! Do you have fun tormenting me like this?!"
"No Dragonborn would enjoy witnessing a reminder of who they really are," he said with a portion of melancholy in his voice. "I turned into someone I was not in order to save the world I cared for so much. I did indeed overcome my boundaries but I forgot who I was and paid the ultimate price. But the world is still not safe... and it will never be safe without its true guardian. The Awakened, the one Dragonborn who has mastered herself."
"Why do you always talk in riddles?" she asked him, a mixture of confusion and despair flashing through her mind which has become their means of communication.
"I am sorry, my child. Too long have I been watching this world wither, too long have I overlooked it silently without making contact. Time changes the soul and shapes its voice. Do ask, my child, and I will try to clarify. Do ask again if the word is still unclear and I will try to bend it for you."
Lucia rolled her eyes at his speech but decided to do it his way.
"So..." she hesitated, thinking about what she wanted to know. Then, she decided to take things from the beginning. "Who are you exactly? Tell me anything and everything."
She could feel a chuckle inside her mind.
"This will be a long story," he warned her. "You better sit back and relax, my child."
"And could you maybe call me Lucia? I am... not your child, you know."
"The priests of Akatosh consider everyone their children," he said softly, "but I will heed your request. You can address me as brother Martin. Or just Martin."
It was around noon when the three of them left Riften through the south gate. Aislinn was avoiding eye contact with Brynjolf, quietly marching beside him. She had tried to let him get ahead and walk behind him but he seemed determined not to let her. Next to her, Samuel was hopping merrily, being the only one seemingly unaffected by the recent events. Aislinn felt exhausted and dizzy, fighting her condition with pure will as she didn't want to show Brynjolf the slightest sign of her weakness. She almost tripped several times but always managed to hide it somehow. The thief seemed to be lost in thought, a mental barrier put up around him, but she knew he was watching her constantly.
"Riften is finally ours again," Samuel said happily, interrupting the chain of Aislinn's thoughts.
"Thanks to you," Aislinn smiled and thanked the boy in her thoughts for the sudden distraction. "You've proven yourself to be not only a capable thief but also a hero with guts. But next time, run away the moment a fight seems about to start. You almost got yourself killed there."
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I put you in danger as well."
He noticed Brynjolf suddenly give him a furious look.
All right, I'm dead, he thought to himself. This guy hates me. And he probably has a good reason to...
They turned left and continued to walk a narrow path leading slightly uphill. Birch trees grew along it, their line ending with a bare trunk which had probably been struck by a lightning. Behind it were two large rocks creating a narrow passage leading to a cave. A symbol of a nightingale embracing the moon with its wings in a circle decorated the stone raised by its entrance. They entered the cave and heard a number of voices coming from deeper inside.
"I tell you he's not going to make it, Delvin," a razor-sharp female voice said with an undertone of skepticism. "This is all madness. The Guild can't perform with the Thalmor running the whole place. And they're no fun. Most of the ones who get caught just disappear. They don't even get killed or anything. They don't take them into the local prisons either. It's like they just stop existing entirely."
"Yeah, it's no fun anymore," a deep silent voice sighed. "And there's no point in gathering loot if we can't sell it afterwards."
"If this goes on, we're gonna have to turn into a guild of warriors. This is just stupid, we're not in Cyrodiil. One would say Skyrim citizens would be more capable of taking care of themselves..."
"We shouldn't really judge that, our guild was in ruins until our boss came and put it back on its feet again."
"Yeah, everyone is pretty much relying on her. She sure doesn't have it easy."
"I wonder where she is now though. They say she's dead. You don't believe it, do you?"
"That would mean Brynjolf also..."
The voices felt silent as the three newcomers entered a larger cave room with a small waterfall on their left descending into a creek dividing the room into halves. Across the wooden bridge spanning over it was a wide area with some tables and chairs enclosed with a low stone wall. This was the Nightingale Hall, the headquarters of the three leaders of the Thieves Guild and currently the new home of the whole guild, its members occupying most of the chairs at the moment.
"Boss!" several voices shouted at once. "You're okay!"
Aislinn smiled a little. "Yeah, I'm okay. Don't you guys underestimate me."
"Wow, that must be some story you're going to tell us," Delvin Mallory chuckled. Aislinn looked up to find him sitting in a chair closest to the creek. "And I see both of you have changed your outfits. Where's that old crappy piece of ragged leather you used to wear so proudly, Brynjolf? I thought you were not parting with it."
"Stuff happened," Brynjolf murmured.
Delvin raised a brow. "You in a bad mood? That's pretty rare."
"Hey, you made it here safely through a country full of crazy Altmer," said beautiful Vex who was standing right behind Delvin. "Given the current situation, you could be pretty happy about it. And proud."
"Except the definition of 'safely' doesn't really apply here, seriously," Brynjolf snorted as he walked across the bridge, Samuel and Aislinn following him. "And guess what? We're going to unite Skyrim, yay!"
"So that means our young man here succeeded?" Delvin turned his attention to Samuel.
"He did a perfect job," Aislinn praised him. Brynjolf smirked.
"Lady Aislinn helped me a huge lot," Samuel opposed, his lips curled in an innocent smile.
"Yeah, you almost got her killed in the process," Brynjolf hissed.
"Just what in Oblivion happened there?" Vex asked curiously. "You sound like it's the end of the world. Sure doesn't sound like that to me, though. So, is Riften ours again?"
"It's ours," Brynjolf said dryly. "And the damned fools want to make the lass their leader and march on Windhelm."
"Is that bad?" a quiet, stoic voice joined the conversation. A figure of a smaller but elegant dark elf woman with long rusty-brown hair in a lighter version of the Thieves Guild armor walked into the light, her bright violet eyes studying her surroundings. "Given the skills of our boss, it could work to our advantage if she actually became the leader of Skyrim people. Imagine our influence then."
Brynjolf looked as if someone had slapped him in the face.
"You serious now?! Karliah, this lass is doing all the things possible to get herself killed in the process! Walking blindfolded without any protection into the most protected city of Skyrim and having to fight her way through it! Entrusting herself to an Altmer woman who then betrays her and kills one of her most trusted allies! Firing an arrow at an Altmer in broad daylight in a place full of people!"
"That man was trying to kill Samuel!" Aislinn objected fiercely. "And Endon trusted that Altmer. How could I have known..."
"Endon is probably dead by now," Brynjolf grunted.
"Wait, stop right there," Delvin interrupted them calmly. "Endon is dead? An Altmer actually going as far as gaining your trust and then betraying you? What in Oblivion happened?"
"Apparently she set it up so I get the claw and seek her out," Aislinn responded. "I have no idea what she's after but I was instructed to find an Elder Scroll that would get me to the place where I could use the claw."
A few members exchanged meaningful looks when the words "Elder Scroll" were mentioned.
"So she was the client Endon was talking about," Vex concluded.
"Why would she do that?" Delvin asked. "You said something about having one of your allies killed?"
Aislinn closed her eyes. She could still hear Paarthurnax's last words echoing in her mind. She sat down on one of the chairs, took a deep breath and started explaining. When she finished, everyone's eyes were on her, staring in shock and disbelief.
"So she told you to defeat Alduin. Again," Delvin chewed slowly. "Do you actually believe the World-Eater is coming back?"
"I do," Aislinn said without hesitation. "If he wasn't, Paarthurnax and Odahviing would have told me about it."
"So why did she have that dragon killed?"
"The Greybeards suspect she's afraid that he would have taught me something important. Probably some powerful technique I could use against her... or something of the sort."
"You said that the Altmer who'd killed the dragon could use the Thu'um, right? And some powerful magic. This may sound a bit crazy but... could he be a Dragon Priest by any chance?"
Aislinn's eyes widened. "A Dragon Priest? But the Dragon Cult is..."
"You never know," Delvin said mysteriously. "Strange things are happening. The big bad dragon rising from the dead, the Thalmor ignoring the Concordat... I wouldn't be surprised if there were some new members of the Dragon Cult. The dragons weren't here for centuries so if there actually were some worshippers left or born, now would be their chance to rise again."
"Makes sense," Aislinn nodded. "But why would they send me to retrieve the Scroll then?"
"Maybe because there's some kind of power they want but only the Dragonborn can access it," Delvin whispered.
"That's all nice," Vex said bitingly, "but it doesn't really concern us. We're the Thieves Guild. What can we possibly do?"
"It's our boss's business and it started with the Guild getting involved," Delvin opposed. "I say it's our business now. Even though I don't like the idea of marching up on a dragon. I'm an information dealer, not a fighter."
"Information dealer," said Aislinn quietly, half lost in thought. "Delvin, could you maybe get some agents to scout the land? The roaming Khajiits would be the best choice, I think. They should be unaffected by the new development and capable of getting all sorts of information. I'm looking for anything and everything concerning the Thalmor, Alduin and the potential Dragon Priests. Oh, and one personal matter... I'm looking for a young girl the Thalmor took away. Thirteen years old, Imperial, taller face, a little rough expression, light brown hair ending above her shoulders, dark brown eyes. She usually gives off the feeling that she's a lot older than she really is. Her name is Lucia."
"I'll do what I can," he winked at her in reply. "I hope the prize's gonna be worth it."
"Does saving the world sound okay to you?" she asked with a smile.
"Saving the world doesn't get you gold in your pockets," he replied with a chuckle. She laughed.
"Maybe we could find out who the Hunter is as well," Samuel posed.
"The Hunter?" Vex asked curiously.
"I didn't really get to tell you," Samuel smiled sheepishly. "Last night I heard the Altmer talk about it. The Hunter is what they call the person who's been taking our agents away recently. And apparently he, or she, is hunting strong people."
"What's going on?" Brynjolf asked before Aislinn could open her mouth to ask the same question.
"People have been disappearing," Vex explained. "You might have heard us talking about it a while ago. The thieves who got caught, the worshippers of Talos, pretty much anyone the Thalmor found an obstacle. Well, some of them got killed, the others disappeared without a trace. The local jails are dead empty, not even guards go there anymore."
"So, according to you," Delvin turned to Samuel, "this Hunter is going after strong people? So the ones who get killed are the weak ones? What does that even mean?"
"I dunno," Samuel shook his head. "Apparently the Thalmor don't know themselves. Or at least most of them don't know. They were told to leave their victims alive so the Hunter could decide who was worthy. They've been taking them to someone called Elenwen... but most of them don't even know what she uses them for."
"Great," Vex snorted. "Every time we get an answer, more questions arise."
"We'll figure it out," Aislinn said in a calming tone. "Delvin, get those agents moving. I'll go to Windhelm along with the invaders and wait for the news. I'll need someone to come with me, though."
"Guess there's no way to stop you," Brynjolf sighed. "I'm coming with you. You won't shake me off that easily, you know." He earned a few raised brows from his guildmates.
"I'm coming too," Karliah joined. "I think you can use a good marksman on your journey. And it's been a while since the Nightingales went on a mission together." She winked at Aislinn and Brynjolf.
"Still," Brynjolf said with a portion of concern in his voice, "we'll have to do something about that weird mist that always gets to our lass."
"The rotstone," Samuel reacted promptly, getting everyone's attention again. "I heard the elves talking about it as well."
"Any idea what that thing is?"
"Some kind of weapon against the Dragonborn..."
"We know that," Brynjolf interrupted him impatiently. "But do you know what it is? Any way to stop it from working? Or any way to make her immune to it?"
The boy shook his head. Brynjolf sighed.
"I'll look into it as well," Delvin said reassuringly. "You'll have to keep her out of the fights for the time being though."
Brynjolf laughed helplessly. "That's like telling me to stop the water from being wet. You try it."
Delvin chuckled. "You better stay safe, boss. For your own sake and for the sake of us all."
Aislinn smiled shyly and got up from her chair. Suddenly, the world around her went spinning and she could feel a pair of arms catch her as she was falling.
"And that's exactly what I'm talking about," she heard Brynjolf's voice right above her head.
"I thought she said she was fine," Vex pointed sharply.
"How could she? That... rotstone got to her a while ago. The last time it happened, she was unconscious for hours, maybe days. It's a miracle she made it here."
She could feel him lift her up and carry her to a remote room accessed from a corridor which opened next to the waterfall.
"I'm sorry, Brynjolf," she apologized again.
"Shut up, already," he said with a sigh. "Try to get some sleep before we leave. Nocturnal knows you'll need it."
He didn't have to tell her twice. The moment her head touched the straw pillow lying on the bed, her mind went blank and she fell into a deep slumber.
Brynjolf watched her for a while, his hand touching a loose strand of her hair softly, before returning to the main hall.
"So, Brynjolf," Karliah approached him with an amused expression. "When are you going to ask her out?"
He could feel everyone's eyes on him. Apparently he was the source of all the fun at the moment and he didn't find it entertaining at all. He knit his eyebrows.
"What in Oblivion are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on now," Vex drawled with a sly smile. "Surely you don't expect us to think nothing happened between you two?"
"Nothing happened," he said with an unreadable expression.
A roar of laughter echoed through the room. A tall man who looked almost like Brynjolf's twin brother put his arm around his shoulders, shaking his head.
"Brynjolf, my boy," he said in a captivating voice. "You don't understand women, do you? She's not going to take the first step, it's all up to you. She may seem strong but she wants to be protected."
Of course she wants to be protected, Brynjolf grunted in his thoughts. And I do want to protect her...
"Bug off, Vipir," he snapped. "You don't know a thing."
"Now now," Karliah said with a gentle smile. Maybe too gentle for Brynjolf's taste. "Just what are you afraid of, Brynjolf?"
A good question. What was he afraid of? Being refused? No, that wasn't it. A torrent of memories flooded his mind. The lass with a gilded blade pressed to her neck. The trembling sensation he had felt as he held her hand when she had been roaming the world of absolute darkness. Her body giving way when a mass of boulders was about to pour down on it. The hot tears streaming down her cheeks and leaving traces that quickly froze in the ice-cold wind. The lone figure standing above the crowd, the voice calling to arms.
He took a deep breath and looked at all the faces currently staring at him.
"I... I'm scared that I won't be able to protect her," he sighed with a resigned look in his face. "I'm scared she'll die on me the moment I call her mine... or that I'll just lose her to the throne of the High Kings."
"The throne... what?"
"People already see her as the High Queen. And with the way it's heading now, I don't see how she does not become one."
Delvin laughed. "She won't become the High Queen, Brynjolf."
"How can you be so sure?" Brynjolf asked doubtfully.
"Look at her. She loves doing as she pleases. Sometimes it gets rough or scary, she loves excitement and attention unlike any other thief you've met so far and she is a good leader... but she values her freedom more than anything and I don't see how she would sacrifice it. Go get her. Trust her a little."
Brynjolf stared at him for a moment before letting out a loud laugh. Suddenly a huge weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders.
"Delvin, my friend," he said a little shakily, "I think we should have a pint together."
"Your treat," Delvin chuckled.
"Riften is ours again!" a shout echoed through the room and people suddenly started bringing bottles on the tables.
Brynjolf smiled. For a moment, he could enjoy the mead and the company of his good friends, just like in the old times. He knew this comfort wouldn't last long, that he would soon be on his way to Windhelm, once again trying to protect that fragile little girl with the voice of a thunder and arms of a giant. But that could wait. For now, all was well and that was the only thing that mattered for him.
A lot of talking and not so much action in this chapter. I hope you don't get mad at me for it. :D It was necessary though. Don't worry, it'll get darker soon enough. Much darker.
I was thinking that maybe I could write a League of Legends fic featuring Riven and Yasuo when I finish this. Seeing the length of the synopsis I made to make it easier to put the story in order, I think it's going to take me a long time. :D
Thanks a lot for your likes, reviews and follows. Stay tuned. :)
Mirwen