Chapter 41: Condolences
Something is wrong, was the first thought that occurred to Aislinn when she finally woke up, although she could not figure what it was. She lay with her eyes closed for a good while before deciding to face whatever reality was awaiting her outside of the cozy warmth that currently occupied her mind. But wait! This was it.
It was quiet. So quiet that she could not remember the last time it had been like this. When was it? Before all this had even begun… before she had learnt she was the Dragonborn. Her first night in Whiterun, probably the happiest time she had had ever since Oblivion had broken out in Helgen, amidst a swarm of soldiers craving for her death. She could still see his form as though it was yesterday, a mighty flying beast with dark, jagged silhouette, darker than the darkest of the moonless nights on Nirn, and his eyes were the color of blood, lined with tones of fiery magma. Who had been more frightening that day? The men who had tried to execute her, or this dragon who, at that time, hadn't had a clue about who she was? She had long forgotten this fear, but for some reason, she now felt it anew. She had gotten so used to voices in her head that the sudden quiet scared her and reminded her of things she had thought lost forever. She opened her eyes.
She could not see what was above her, for whatever it was, it was lost in the darkness surrounding the place, penetrated only by a few lanterns hanging on long chains attached to the supposed ceiling. She sat up, looking around, and sharp pain in her upper arm reminded her she had suffered an injury.
Right, she thought drowsily, Bruma.
She touched the arm shakily, discovering a set of bandages carefully wrapped around it. A bit of blood had soaked through them, creating a dark stain. She examined herself, realizing she was put into linen underthings instead of her armor, and a thin blanket, too small to cover all of her frame, was placed over her. She turned her eyes to the rest of the place. It was filled with tall pillars made in marble, and at a closer look, she realized that two rows of benches were surrounding the aisle where she lay. This must be the Chapel.
Many people were lying about, usually wrapped up in bandages. A little aloof sat a hooded healer, currently working on a nasty looking wound on the leg of a man lying beside him.
She rose from her resting place and staggered at once, gaining support in a nearby pillar as her head started spinning and a colorful display of stars twirled and danced before her eyes. A man was sitting with his back propped against the opposite side of it, shrouded in darkness, but he jumped on his feet the moment he noticed movement from behind.
"Easy now," he whispered to her gently, driving her back to her temporary bed. Aislinn recognized Tye's voice. "You need to rest properly after losing so much blood."
Her vision finally cleared and she squinted at the Imperial, vaguely discerning the shape of his young face in the dim light of the lanterns. The shadow of his nose danced on it as the flames flickered merrily, attracting Aislinn's attention until her eyes slid down to his body. She raised her brow when she saw what mostly looked like a heavy set of dragonscale armor. Except it wasn't. The scales were made of a mixture of ebony and some peculiar silver-ish metal which she did not know, but the replica looked very authentic, even to her. Except for the color.
"Have I lost so much? What happened?" she asked quietly.
"That's what I wanted to ask you," he returned. "I only saw you getting grabbed by that beast, and before I knew it, you were plummeting on its back towards that tower. And when I finally got there… you were there with its scales and bones only. Feverish and delirious."
Aislinn scratched her head in confusion. Delirious? She only remembered a lot of pain… and a voice within her. She shuddered.
"I don't know," she said almost inaudibly.
"Anyway, I… I wanted to say I'm sorry for how I treated you before. It seems some mercenaries have the sense of honor yet. And I doubt you are a Thalmor after everything you've done."
"Mer…" she stopped herself. Did it mean that her cover had not been blown yet? No one realized who she really was? So she was safe. Relatively. She exhaled deeply.
"How long was I…"
"Out? Twelve hours since I carried you here, I'd say."
"You carried me here?"
"Someone had to," he breathed evasively. She chuckled quietly.
"Thank you…"
There was a moment of silence when both of them just sat there, deep in their thoughts. She realized it felt quite comfortable, not having to think of anything in particular, not hearing voices in her head… so Aislinn simply let her mind wander wherever it wanted to, without any real purpose or direction. Silent crackling of the fires in the lanterns was strangely soothing. She would not mind at all if she could stay like this for the rest of her days. But no… something was still missing. Certain red-haired thief who was currently… she actually did not know where. He, and a few other people. If she could just surround herself with them right now, right here… that would probably be the best moment of her life.
"I miss them…" she whispered inadvertently.
"Sorry?" Tye asked with his brow cocked.
"Ah, nothing. Just thinking about my friends… and family."
"So… you have a loving family?"
"Well, it's not like any of them are related to me."
"I see… so you're the same as me? Cast away by your blood kin?"
"No… I… don't remember them. I don't know who my parents are. Or any of my relatives."
"I'm sorry…"
"Don't be," she shook her head. "It might be better than being cast away. I can still hope that one day, I'm going to find them and be loved by them."
"I guess. Well, I'm not going to make peace with my father ever again. Last time I saw him, we had an awful fight… and then, after a few months of solitude, I learnt that he had been assassinated." At that moment, Tye seemed incredibly lonely, staring into the gap between the backrest and the bottom of a nearby bench absentmindedly as his fingers drew circles on his knee.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Aislinn whispered sympathetically. "But maybe there's still a chance… you never know where you end up after you die." She smiled at him slightly. He snorted.
"Even if I want to talk to him… I wouldn't like to end up in the land of Sithis."
She stopped with a frown. "Wait… was your father slain by the Dark Brotherhood?"
"That he was."
"If you don't mind my asking… who was your father?"
Tye gave her a long, pensive look, as though he was weighing her value. His eyes pierced her and for a moment, she felt an insuppressible urge to avert her gaze. Then he sighed.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"
"All I can say is that he was an important official," he whispered. "Made too many enemies to be left alone."
"I'm sorry," was the only thing she managed to say. Although she did not know whether she was the one who had killed his father, she still felt somewhat responsible.
"No… no, don't be. It was to be expected. Like I said, he made so many enemies… among both the Thalmor and his own people, among some smaller clans and resistance groups… in the end, he could not even decide on what was right and wrong. That's the kind of person he was. His death was almost given. It's me who should be sorry… I could not face him then and instead chose to run like a coward." There was pain in his eyes, but also certain poise, and for the first time, he appeared to be a grown man.
"What if I tell you that I'm the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood?" was what she wanted to ask. She decided against it, choosing a somewhat diplomatic approach instead. "You… it almost sounds like you don't hate the Dark Brotherhood…"
"That is because I've never heard of them killing anyone on their own accord. They do business… and as much as it is nasty, in the end, they only fulfill their clients' wishes."
Aislinn stared at him in disbelief. She could not decide whether this was mature or just foolish, but he reminded her of someone, though she could not recall who exactly. She looked at the young boy before her, listened to his resigned voice, and contemplated what she knew about him. A runaway who founds a theatre to fight for his land. Young and naïve, but with a pure heart. She gave him a compassionate look.
"You pity me, don't you?" he asked, closing his eyes.
"I don't pity you," Aislinn said quietly. "It's just… you sounded very lonely."
"Why?"
"Because despite proudly leading a group full of enthusiastic freedom fighters, it seems that deep inside you're battling on your own."
Tye sighed and there was a short lull before he spoke again. "I underestimated you," he said as he opened his eyes again, watching the lantern light flicker on the wall. "Stop… stop speaking my mind."
"I'm sorry. But you should know that we all have our demons. You're not alone. You're never alone."
"What is it that ails you, Lynn?"
There was a silence. Aislinn lowered her head and watched Tye's shadow dance on the floor in the flickering light.
"I think you owe it to me," he said after a while. She pressed her fingers to her temples and took a deep breath.
"I… I don't know who I am," she whispered at last. "I woke up one day with no recollection of my past, and wandered Skyrim ever since. I was told that I have a destiny to follow, I had my work cut out for me… and since I didn't have anything else to do anyway, I just did what I was told. I did everything. The good things, the bad things, anything others wanted from me. I never found a task too difficult or unappealing, so there was no such thing as refusing a request for me, and soon I was drowning in money and fame. But as time went on, I was more and more confused and unhappy. People knew my face, and they knew I would do pretty much anything for them, as long as I got something in return. They started… using me, making me do jobs they didn't want to do themselves. And I strayed even further from discovering who I was. I… I still don't know it. I'm still following my so-called destiny, still doing what others want… and the only thing I can truly fear is living an empty life. I don't even know what I want."
Tye bit on his lip as he watched her. "So… what is that so-called destiny of yours?" he asked.
"That's a secret," she smiled mysteriously.
"Hey! Not fair. Here I'm telling you about myself…"
"You didn't tell me everything either, and I don't want to know," she said firmly. "Everything at the right time."
"I don't like it," he grunted and pursed his lips. Aislinn chuckled. The child was back.
"You don't have to like it, but I'm still not telling you."
"I'm not leaving you until you tell me."
"Seems like you're going to accompany me to the Imperial City then," she smirked.
"That I was planning anyway," he said with a shrug. Aislinn furrowed her brows.
"Sorry, I might have just misheard you. Did you say you're going with me to the Imperial City?"
"Aye, that I did," he imitated Ardur's accent.
"Sorry, but I'm not taking companions."
"And I'm not asking you. It's not like you can chase me away, is it?"
"Mind telling me your reasons?" she asked with exasperation.
"Simple. I decided it's about time I went back and faced my problems. If nobody else will, I am going to put a stop to all this. You can help me… though it would mean doing more favors."
Aislinn pondered what 'all this' might mean. "Have you even thought about this? That city is full of elves…"
"And that's the problem! Bruma is the last city in Cyrodiil that is not full of them. We need to do something, and we need to do it quick. Yes, I've thought about it, all right? I've thought it over and over and over again… and the result was always the same. My mind is screaming at me to stop running away. You… you probably don't understand. You don't know what fear is. Not this kind of fear anyway."
"You'll take this back," she snarled quietly, "or not only you will not accompany me anywhere, but you'll also end up with half of your bones broken."
"Are you threatening me?"
"I just told you one of my secrets… I told you my deepest worries… and you immediately turned them against me! You… you're just an annoying little brat who knows nothing but to judge people!" She snapped that last sentence so loud that a few sleeping people winced and opened their eyes abruptly and the healer turned his head after her angrily. Panting, she stood up and stomped to the large entrance door, ignoring the twirling colorful images before her eyes. She heard Tye call to her from behind.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?!"
"To get some fresh air!" she retorted and exited the hall. The cold night air sent chills down her spine and stung on her skin. She was reminded of how poorly she was dressed, but she stubbornly refused to go back in the Chapel, treading through the city. Her vision cleared and she could see the destroyed gate, damaged walls and buildings and a vague outline of something piled up beneath the gateway, outside of the city. Several parts of the city were covered in embers, dark clouds of heavy smoke rose from the ground and scorched structures, and covered the sky. Ashes were in the air and she found it hard to breathe. The silhouettes of the houses and other buildings, lightless as they were yet completely deserted, emitted an eerie aura which made Aislinn's hairs stand on end. She stepped on something, and when she bent down to see what it was, she found a singed broken elven dagger. She took it in her hands thoughtfully and studied its ornate texture. Behind her, the Chapel door opened again and from it emerged fuming Tye.
She ignored him and proceeded through the city, squinting in the dark as she tried to examine her surroundings. A chilly gust of wind blew her hair to her face and she shivered. Her hand shot up to remove the stray locks from her face and suddenly she realized how long it had been since she had last cut it. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice. It did not belong to Tye, or to anyone from the outside. She heard it from the inside, and a painful memory erupted in her. She gasped and grabbed a protruding stone in a nearby wall, failing to notice it was loose. It sent her falling to the ground.
"Sleep well, Dragonborn?" it said and she could feel Dagon's malicious grin.
"Shut up," she snarled quietly.
"Sorry?"
She raised her head. This time, it was Tye, looking at her confoundedly.
"N-no, I mean…" she stuttered before being cut off again.
"Come on, Dragonborn, answer to him." The Daedric Prince inside her sounded genuinely amused. She opened her mouth again.
"Are… are you all right?" Tye's voice sounded as though it came from beneath a thick wall.
"I…"
"What's wrong? Having problems? Oh, maybe I can help…"
"Shut up…" She pressed her fingers to her temples tightly.
"Whoa there! You don't have to be so…"
"I can put a stop to this. You only need to listen to me…"
"Lynn?"
"Enough! Screw you! Shut up, you piece of blasted trollheaded daedra! I hope you drown in skeever piss and choke on its droppings!"
"What in Oblivion is wrong with you?!" Tye lashed out, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her violently. She wrenched herself free at once, staggering back and barely avoiding crashing into the wall behind her.
"Leave me alone," she panted, unable to stop her voice from trembling. "Please…"
Tye looked at her in confusion. He knit his eyebrows until a deep wrinkle appeared on his forehead and came closer to her.
"It's the same as before," he said, his tone a little gentler than before. "What is happening to you?" He touched her forehead, placing his other hand on the back of her head to prevent her from recoiling. "You're burning up," he breathed.
"Please, don't…"
"You need to…" his voice faded away as a flood of pain took over her body. Her eyelids closed tightly.
"I said listen to me, Dovakhiin!" the voice in her head thundered and she could feel a scoff in the sound of her title. "I know you want power. The dragon in you is practically begging for it…"
She vaguely felt herself being dragged away, fighting in her mind to maintain her sanity. Dagon kept calling to her and sending waves of agony through her flesh until she was on the verge of passing out again… and then, suddenly, there was quiet once more. She inhaled deeply as she opened her eyes to be greeted by the dull, flickering light of the lanterns hanging down from the Chapel ceiling. Tye was holding her firmly and she had to wonder where such a slight boy got the strength to do so. She gently pushed him away, standing on her feet weakly.
"No, don't strain yourself again…"
"I'm fine," she opposed. Strangely enough, she indeed was. The soothing quiet had taken over her head again.
"Just a moment ago you were shouting curses all around," he snorted indignantly. "What in Ob… I mean, what was that? It seemed painful… as though you were possessed by something."
Aislinn raised a brow. "I can stand a curse or two," she said evasively.
"This is a sacred place. Who would cuss at a place like this? Anyway, how about we… what?"
Aislinn gaped at him as though she was looking at some kind of divine apparition, her mouth open ajar and her frame still.
"What?!" he repeated impatiently.
"That's it!" she laughed triumphantly. "This is a sacred place!"
With that, she made for the remote part of the Chapel, quickly pacing among the benches and bedrolls. Occasionally, a head rose to watch her pass, but no one tried to stop her. She reached the elegant apsis with a large basin at its center creating the main altar. Nine smaller altars were lining its edges, each consecrated to one deity. Tye kept close in tow, but she did not wait for him to catch up. She first walked to the center, washing her face in the basin, and then granted each smaller altar a long, pensive look. Now which god she should pray to?
Definitely not Zenithar, she wasn't even close to being a merchant. Dibella wasn't her type of goddess at all, Julianos's wisdom wouldn't do her much good and Mara simply didn't come to her mind when it came to warding off evil powers. Praying to Arkay when fighting for her life would earn her a laugh and Stendarr's mercy was the last thing she wanted, although his Vigilants would probably tell her otherwise. Three gods remained. Kynareth, Akatosh, and Talos, each of whom she respected greatly. She shrugged and stepped towards the altar of Akatosh, as he was the one who had protected her before, bowing and kneeling before the little dragon statue.
"I bow before you, Akatosh, in reverence and eternal loyalty," she said quietly. "Please, let your fires protect my soul and the hand of your eternal clock guide my way." She felt the power of the Divine Father fill her with new energy and determination. Behind her, Tye clapped his hands quietly.
"Great," he uttered dryly. "Now that you've prayed, maybe you could tell me what this was all about?"
Aislinn sighed as she turned to face him. "I don't see a point in that, so I won't." She strode past him, heading for her bedroll.
"I demand…"
Aislinn's face twisted in an angry glare. She stopped with her face mere inches from his and spoke in a dangerously low voice. "You demand nothing and I'll tell you nothing. What are you going to do with that information, hmm? Judge again, as you always do? Scoff at me for being a weakling? Let's make an agreement, shall we? I won't ask you about your problems, you won't ask me about mine. Neither of us will talk or even care about the other, we go our own way and we won't have to deal with each other ever again. I'd say that sounds pretty fair, no?"
Tye took a step backwards but kept his firm, rebellious look. "No," he said. "I will not agree to this. And you might consider getting on my good side, because that could persuade Ardy to help you… and as far as I'm concerned, you need his help."
Aislinn stared at him in disbelief. His father had obviously been a politician. But even so, this man's level of arrogance was plain outrageous.
"You were right," she nodded, her voice a mere whisper now. "You're a coward. You can't face your problems head on. You only rely on others and their own difficulties. Let me just say this to you. I don't need you to solve my problems and lick Ardur's boots for me. I'll deal with him on my own. If there's just a bit of brain in that head of his, he'll be able to make his own decision. He won't need you to make it for him and neither will I. Good night."
She left the startled youngster standing there like a statue, his jaw dropped so low that she was afraid it was going to fall off. She walked past the many soldiers and fighters who lay injured on the ground, avoiding eye contact at their curious glances. She lay down on her bedroll and wrapped herself in the blanket as much as she could, but the sleep would not come. She was not used to the sudden silence in her head, and there was so much to contemplate on that all the exhaustion from the previous day and the wild confrontation of Mehrunes Dagon had given way to her curiosity. She could not appreciate the absence of the voices, for her own thoughts screamed at her just as clearly, and no sooner did she finally fall into slumber than the skies outside turned the beautiful shade of orange lotus flower.
A sting on her face woke her up and she vaguely realized someone had been slapping her cheeks. Her eyelids shot apart as she sat up abruptly, reaching for a dagger that wasn't there. She stared into Ardur's bright, turquoise eyes and almost mouthed the word Brynjolf, stopping herself in the last second.
"Good, you're finally awake," he grumbled. "Got a new dress for you, so put that on. A Deliverance ceremony is going to take place soon, and the Countess wants to see you right after that."
"The Countess?" Aislinn muttered drowsily, squinting at the Nord. She noticed he was covered in bandages and there was a dark ugly bruise spreading over the cheekbone on the left side of his face.
"Aye, the Countess. Don't ask me what she wants, I didn't ask. Not that I care." The last sentence sounded strangely rough and insincere. Aislinn raised a brow.
"Right," she nodded slowly, reaching for a dress that was handed to her. Her eyes widened as she touched the smooth garment which reflected the light coming through the tall windows in shades of soft vermillion. There was no lining or visible decorations, but its folds spanned from the left shoulder down to the right armpit, hip and lower like a fan. It had no real sleeves, but a large shawl of the same color accompanied it. Asilinn gave Ardur a look full of awe.
"Tye's been telling me you were possessed by something…" he uttered with a smirk, "but you seem pretty normal… well, except for looking like a monkey who's been given a golden egg instead of her favorite coconut."
Aislinn let out a snort as he turned to leave.
"Time to make yourself human for a while," he said over his shoulder.
"Um, Ardur?" she called to him.
"Yes?"
"How long does it take from here to the Imperial City? Considering I want to avoid the roads."
"Who knows," he shrugged.
"Wait! What do you…" she began, but he was gone. Only then she discovered that many of the people sleeping in the Chapel had left their places while others were treated by mages, priests and healers. From time to time, a silent moan echoed throughout the nave, followed by a placating whisper. Aislinn conveniently hid herself behind one of the pillars and quickly changed into the dress, albeit feeling entirely out of place. She prayed briefly again and left the Chapel.
A sight of a small crowd of people dressed in formal clothing of Imperial red or Bruma yellow welcomed her, walking down the streets and heading for the main city gate. Their grim faces and quiet step underlined the overall atmosphere. Ashes were still in the air, but not as much as the previous night, and occasional pillars of smoke rose to the skies. A few scattered silhouettes of scorched beams and other structures loomed over the city. Aislinn could now take a good look at the gate. The inner part had fallen apart completely and the people passing through it stared at the protruding stones apprehensively, watching out for possible slides.
She joined them silently, pretending to be just another regular citizen of Bruma. No one paid her any attention, and she reveled in the comfortable feeling of casual walk without having to rush anywhere or talk to anyone. It occurred to her suddenly that it was strange that even the dragons quietened when the blessing of the gods was present, but as she pondered on whether dragons feared the Divines, a rich, deep voice resounded in her head.
Not quite, Dovakhiin. But even a dovah falls silent before the gods. They do not frighten us, no, but we find their presence… soothing.
Paarthurnax! she rejoiced inwardly. It had been a while since she had last felt his Thu'um resonate inside her.
Drem yol lok, Dovakhiin, he said softly. Your progress pleases me.
What progress? Aislinn asked bemusedly.
You are slowly becoming aware of who you really are. You may find the presence of a Daedric Prince troublesome, painful even, but as I see it, it will only make you stronger in the end.
Becoming aware of who I am? Me? Aislinn scoffed, faintly realizing she did it aloud. She covered her mouth as several faces turned to her.
Do not belittle yourself, Dovakhiin. But for now, forget your troubles and go weep for your kind. They deserve it.
Aislinn looked around, finding herself outside of the city walls, surrounded by people gathered before a huge pile of corpses. Not a single Altmer was among them, and Nords and Imperials were by far the most numerous of all races in there. Aislinn knew then that these were the people who had fought and given their lives for Bruma in that last battle.
How do you always see the things around me so clearly? she asked the ancient dragon inside her.
We are not as caged here as some of my kin might think. It is only a matter of acceptance… and determination. Staadnau zii los stin dovah.
Aislinn felt Paarthurnax's message sink in her, and for a reason she failed to understand, her lips curled up in a smile. Free spirit marks a free dragon. It was a thought she could adopt.
She quickly hid her smile when a few people granted her looks of exasperation. Instead, she inspected the place, her eyes finding a temporary wooden platform. On it stood Tye, Ardur, Captain Somnir, two guards in yellow uniforms and a slight woman in yellow dress with a stern look in her sharp-featured face. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, some of it plaited in thin, elegant braids while the rest remained loose, and on top of her head sat a fine golden circlet with no decorations. Her distinct cheekbones and deep, blue-gray eyes suggested Nordic ancestry, but her slight figure, thin lips and dark hair made her look like an Imperial. This must be the Countess, Aislinn thought.
Then, her gaze slid sideways, to a familiar rusty haired muscular man who, despite standing amongst the many people in the crowd, seemed so alone that it made her heart ache. A sporadic tear streaked down his cheek, and his round nose was now bright red instead of the gentle pink she had seen on him before. She made her way to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Dra… Lynn," he whispered to her as he contained a sob. "What am I going to do now?"
"Fight, so that his soul can be put to rest without regret," she said. "He died with honor."
"I couldn't do anything… only watch him die. He slew so many before falling… I was held back by those… monsters…" his words were drowned in silent sobs. Aislinn reached out to wipe a tear away from his face, and immediately she was buried in his bear-like arms, catching her breath.
"Fluff… I can't breathe…"
"I'm sorry," he mouthed as he let her go. "Oh… they're handing out the Soul Lights already."
"Soul Lights?"
"A tradition of ours," he explained, his voice slightly shaky. "When the corpses are lit and the fire spreads, everyone lights their candle with it. And then the souls of our deceased ascend."
Aislinn opened her mouth to ask a question, but she was interrupted as an elderly Imperial woman with a cart approached them. Fluff reached to the cart with his strong hand and withdrew a small glass bowl filled with transparent liquid, and out of it stuck a thin wick. Aislinn followed his example and they stood there in silence until every last person was holding a bowl. Then, a voice spoke, and its pure sound reminded Aislinn of water running over a field of pebbles.
"Dear citizens of Bruma," the Countess said, "dear wanderers and heroes who have fought valiantly for your land! We are gathered here today to see the souls of those who gave their lives for us and for our freedom to Aetherius. Many have passed in that fierce battle and many will join the gods and the heroes of the old in lands that no living soul may enter. They fought so we may live, and died with unparalleled honor. Their deeds will never be forgotten. Songs will be sung and their passing will be commemorated, tears will be shed and their honor will be fought for. I bow before the gods and I plead. Let their souls find their way to the afterlife so we may see them once more, and together we shall rejoice in the gods' realms." There was a pause before the Countess continued her speech, taking a deep breath and scanning everyone with sharp eyes.
"Ingeir of the clan Storm-Caller, proud warrior and loving father," she called a name and accompanied her words with a slight bow, "Petra the Alchemist, who saved many a soul, Sanya the Mountain Runner, whose smile was contagious, Larinor One-Eyed, the grumpy old man who would always give sweets after the long day…" The enumeration continued for so long that Aislinn had lost track of time. Fluff winced as the name "Tervar Broken-Blade" was called, accompanied by "also known as Ruff, a man whose tongue stung almost as his sword and whose heart was braver than a lion's."
"May your brave souls find peace in the sacred lands of the deceased, and Arkay protect you for eternity," the Countess concluded, raising her bowl. "Let us pray now for our fallen comrades."
Silence reigned for a moment, interrupted by a guard with a torch which he carefully placed amidst the arranged bodies. Soft crackling filled the air as the fire slowly but surely spread, from one piece of garment to another, from head to head, from body to body, until its flames consumed most of the pile. Then, the Countess's voice rang throughout the place once more.
"Now we shall guide these souls to the divine realms where they rightly belong." She stepped down from the platform and held out her bowl, placing it close to the fire. The wick caught on fire shortly and she raised the light high above her head. Somnir, Tye and Ardur followed, and at last, the Countess beckoned to everyone else. Just like the others, Fluff and Aislinn lit their bowls and raised them above their heads. And then, as though something was pulling them up, all the lights broke off the wicks and took to the sky, slowly spreading above the heads of the citizens.
"How…" Aislinn whispered, gazing up with both her eyes and mouth wide open.
"Nobody really knows," Fluff said quietly, "but they always do that."
"They're beautiful." She stood there, awestruck, her eyes shifting from light to light, as though hundreds of stars decided to join their sisters at once. Even in the daylight, they shone brightly, flooding the ground beneath with soft, golden glow. And then, the sound of singing voices filled the air as people chanted.
To war we march
our souls as one
to gods we pray
our fear is gone
To battle now
we raise our swords
the stench of blood
within our hordes
But as our foes
pierce through our heart
the fateful blades
tear us apart
To dust we go
as darkness falls
before our eyes
are marble halls
Farewell our home
we pass with time
within our souls
resounds doom's chime
What lies in wait
for us to see
are Divines' smiles
they set us free
The lights faded slowly, and so did the voices. There was quiet, interrupted only by scarce sobs, but most of the people standing around the pyre were standing with their heads up and pride mirrored in their faces. Even the few children present were silent, although occasional tear slid down their cheeks.
"And so they have passed," the Countess said at last, her voice silent, and yet the wind carried it strong, every syllable distinct to Aislinn's ears. Everyone bowed slightly, and then the crowd dispersed in silence. Aislinn was one of the few to stay, along with Fluff, a few guards, the Countess with her company and, as she suddenly noticed, Daren who kept gazing at her steadily. She nodded to him, and he joined her with a soft smile.
"At least someone is still well alive," he remarked. "Didn't you want to leave yesterday?"
"I did, but I couldn't possibly leave the city in the lurch with clear conscience."
"And for that we are infinitely grateful to you," a voice addressed her and Aislinn turned to face the Countess. "Care to join me for while, Lady Lynn?"
"I'd be honored, My Lady," Aislinn replied and bowed slightly. The Countess curled up her lips and beckoned to her, making for the castle. Aislinn waved Fluff and Daren farewell and the two responded with a nod.
Several guards followed them, as well as Tye and Ardur, the former exhibiting a sour grimace while the latter just tried to look as indifferent as he could.
"Pardon my manners," the Countess said as she paced across the city and every person they met quickly stepped aside to make way for her. "I think I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Countess Arianna Carvain, currently in charge of the city. Normally, my husband would be the one ruling over the city, but he was called to the Imperial City some month ago." There was a slight tremble in her voice as she spoke, and Aislinn could feel her concern. She instantly knew what was coming.
"I am Lynn, a mercenary from Skyrim," she stated politely. "Sorry to hear about your husband."
"I heard from Ardur that you're heading to the Imperial City," she started. I knew it, Aislinn thought with resignation. "And you're supposedly a very skilled fighter… and a shrewd thief."
Aislinn raised a brow and shot Ardur an exasperated glance. The Nord simply shrugged, his eyes blinking innocently. She suppressed a snort.
"You've already done so much… and I will give you as much as I can for your service, but if you could just check if he's safe while you're there, I would reward you with anything you wished for. Money, title, land or servants, weapons and knowledge… you name it."
Aislinn was silent. They passed the Synod and ascended to the second inner circle. Several men walking in the opposite direction were carrying logs which, as Aislinn assumed, had served as temporary bars to fortify the castle, followed by a winded grey-haired woman holding a basket full of herbs and bandages. The citizens were doing everything in their power to recover.
She pondered the Countess's request, knitting her brows in thought. Was this woman using her, or was she sincerely asking her to save her husband's life? Either way, she was a wanted woman, and since she had been possessed by the very daedra that the Thalmor were in contact with, she could not be sure that her presence in Cyrodiil had not been revealed.
They continued to the castle courtyard, past the statue of Martin Septim and inside the castle where Captain Somnir made his leave, hurrying to the barracks. There was a crowd of people inside, quickly packing their things in preparation to return back to their homes, and a number of guards who watched over them cautiously. A man in expensive looking green tunic whom Aislinn thought to be the Countess's steward was running around the place frantically, constantly wiping the sweat from his forehead. He bowed to the passing Countess before heading to the plain looking throne room ahead and to the passage on the opposite side of its entrance.
Arianna Carvain waved to the group to follow him, and soon they found themselves in a vast dining room. In its center stood a long table with a variety of dishes that Aislinn had never seen. Meat balls and rolls were surrounded by baked potatoes and strange white loose matter which looked like grains of sorts. There was milk and various cheeses, and bowls filled with sundry fruits in many shapes and colors, and pies along with assorted pastries lay on the smaller tables standing slightly aside. Among all that stood scattered bottles with wine. Aislinn's stomach growled and she earned herself a laugh from the Countess.
"You haven't eaten since yesterday morning, have you?" she said gently. "Let's not waste any more time then. Dig in, we can talk later."
"I…" Aislinn stammered, "I don't know what to say…"
"You don't have to say anything, dear," the Countess smiled. "After what you've done, it's only fitting that I at least treat you to a meal."
"It's not poisoned," Ardur remarked playfully, walking ahead and picking up an apple. "Look." He bit into the juicy fruit enthusiastically. His mouth widened in a delightful grin. Aislinn chuckled.
The Countess beckoned to a seat by the table, seating herself at its head. Aislinn sat down, facing the door, while Ardur and Tye sat opposite from her, both shifting uneasily. Aislinn figured this was not the regular seating order and felt slightly bad for the two, but did not dare oppose the Countess's decision.
"Let's dig in, then," Arianna said, grabbing herself a slice of bread and some strange cheese in rich orange color that Aislinn had never seen before. Her companions followed her example. Aislinn scanned the foods with her eyes but found herself unable to decide which one she should try first. The Countess laughed.
"It seems you're not used to being able to choose," she said with amusement. "So, what kind of food do you like?"
Aislinn frowned. "Well, I… usually just eat what's in stock. When I catch a deer, I eat venison, when I catch a salmon, it becomes my meal… and when there's nothing to catch… snowberries? They grow everywhere in Skyrim."
Ardur snorted but there was no malice in it. "Just that?" he asked. "Don't you get tired of it?"
"I guess I've never really thought about it."
"Unbelievable… and you're a woman. You're supposed to be picky, carry herbs and spices everywhere, and…" he threw up his hands and shook his head.
"She's not you, Ardy. Not everyone grows up to be such a princess. Well, a thief princess," Tye quipped.
"Hey! Don't reveal…"
"Somnir already did," Tye shrugged. Ardur slapped his forehead.
"That trollbrained daedroth!" he muttered dryly.
Aislinn watched the two with interest, deciding to take a pie with slices of yellow fruit she could not identify. Ardur's eyes followed her hand.
"Forgot to say that one's actually poisoned," he said with a dead serious expression. Aislinn grimaced.
"Have you heard the tale of Moresan?" she asked with a smile.
"No?"
"He was a hero of the old times, doing good deeds for the people. There was no beast he feared and no task he would refuse, so slowly but surely he became popular among the folks. He was more popular than the king himself, and in difficult times, everyone turned to him instead of the king. So, his king invited him to the palace and threw a feast for him."
She paused, taking a bite of her pie. Everyone was listening, even the Countess watched her with interest. She opened her mouth to continue.
"Moresan was hesitant to take a bite of anything, so the king called for his taster and had him test all of the dishes in front of the hero. Moresan was placated and ate plenty at the feast. But you know what happened then?"
"He died," Ardur said instantly, accompanying his words with a smirk.
"He did. The king was so afraid of the hero that he felt the need to get rid of him, so he had ordered his alchemist to brew a special poison and also an antidote which he then gave to the taster and everyone else, save for Moresan."
"Never take food from another," Ardur scoffed. "Where did you learn that story? Sounds awfully elvish. Altmeri, even."
Aislinn froze. Indeed, where had she learnt it? She could not remember and for some reason, it made her feel uneasy. "I… don't remember," she said truthfully. Ardur frowned.
"So, you believe we're the same as that king, even though there's a whole city we could command to kill you and they wouldn't think twice before doing so?" he questioned, twisting his lips. Aislinn laughed at that.
"You just answered your own question." She theatrically ate the rest of her pie in one gulp and reached for the closest bowl of curd cheese.
Tye placed a hand on Ardur's shoulder and opened his mouth to speak, but the Countess was faster. "Oh Ardur, stop teasing our guest," she scolded him gently. Then she turned to Aislinn. "I believe we owe you a reward. A poison would be a poor compensation for what you have done."
"There's really no need…"
"I can give you as much as five thousand septims for helping to save the city at your own life's risk, but if you want to exchange that for something else I can provide, I would be happy to oblige."
"Five thousand?!" Aislinn's jaw dropped. She noticed Tye's scowl at her reaction but paid him no attention. Instead, a quiet voice in her head reminded her of why she was here. She sighed. "That's very generous of you, but I'm afraid I can't really carry much to the Imperial city. But there is something you could do for me. If I could have just one set of some very light armor and an Amulet of Akatosh, that would help me a lot."
"Amulet of Akatosh?" the Countess repeated, cocking her brow in question. "Yes, that could be arranged… pardon my curiosity, but why do you need one?"
"Let me guess," Tye said with a triumphant smirk. "You were possessed by a daedra."
Aislinn winced, but then she nodded in silence, her eyes digging into her bowl.
"Truly?" the Countess wondered. "That explains a lot… although I'd say this one would fit you better." She reached to the nape of her neck and took off an amulet looking like a double-edged war axe. An Amulet of Talos… Aislinn raised her brow.
"Why?" she asked simply.
The Countess shot her a mysterious smile and her eyes wandered to Tye, Ardur and back to Aislinn. "Because it fits your nature."
Aislinn's body tensed up and she clutched the edge of the table with her fingers. The Countess knew. She knew her secret, and yet, she had clearly decided against telling Tye and Ardur who were now looking at her, question in their eyes. But how? There was a short silence as Aislinn considered her options, a little lost as to what she should say, but then she spoke at last.
"Will it help?"
The Countess let out an amused laugh, like a mother lecturing her child good-naturedly. "As far as I know, the Dragon God's blood ran in Talos's veins."
Aislinn nodded. That made sense. "Amulet of Talos it is, then."
Arianna's steward quickly took the amulet and presented it to Aislinn almost reverently. She accepted it with a silent "Thank you" and attached it to her neck at once, but regretted it instantly. She could feel hear heart beat faster as it called to her, trying to let her Thu'um out. She raised the pendant to her eye level and blinked, trying to conceal her struggle from Tye and Ardur. The latter granted her a friendly smirk.
"I… guess I can't say a word against you anymore," he said in a semi-defeated voice. "No Thalmor would ever put an Amulet of Talos on."
"Still going on about that?" Aislinn shook her head.
"Well, Ardur was always quick to jump to a conclusion," the Countess commented.
"No, I wasn't! I was just cautious. That's different."
Tye laughed. "A bit overcautious, my friend. Anyway, it's good that things are finally straightened out. I was worried what you might say about me going with her to the Imperial City."
Ardur turned to his companion, eyes wide with disbelief. "That's the first time I hear about this."
"I guess. I'm telling you now."
"Hey, don't even try this with me…"
"You're the one who usually acts all innocent and all!"
"Exactly, so you stick with your own act. Anyway, what are you even going to do there?"
"That's exactly what I was asking him!" Aislinn cut in. Ardur shot her a look.
"Are you two plotting together or what?!" Tye groaned, furrowing his brows. "Like I said, it's time for me to face things head on."
"You told her," Ardur scowled. It wasn't a question.
"No, actually I didn't," Tye raised his hands defensively. "I might have to, though…"
"What? Why are you suddenly leaving me out, Tye? Now who's the one plotting here?"
"There goes your paranoia aga–"
"Enough!" the Countess bellowed, glaring at both of the men angrily. "Both of you stop behaving like children who got a single present together, arguing who's going to have it first. Tye, I only have one question. You do realize that, as the head of one of the biggest resistance groups there are, your responsibility is not only to take care of the land, but also to stay alive?"
Tye let out a weary sigh. "Then what am I supposed to do?" he threw up his hands helplessly.
"That was not the question."
Aislinn smiled inwardly, glad that the Countess was on her side. She seemed so innocent, casual and relaxed… and yet she reminded her of certain black-furred Khajiit friend of hers.
"But I don't get it…"
"Silly," Ardur said, letting out a resigned breath, and patted his friend on the head. "You're right. There's so much you don't get. Countess, permission to go on a mission? Goal: Protect our only hope."
"I do not like this," the Countess replied, "but I don't think there's any other option. Hopefully the elves won't be attacking Bruma any soon. I presume you'll be taking some of your men with you?"
"I'll be… sending them out," the thief nodded.
Aislinn cleared her throat to attract everyone's attention. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
The Countess gave Aislinn the most pleading and desperate look she had ever seen on anyone, including her sweet daughters. "I know this is sudden, especially added to the business with my husband… but please, would you be so kind and make sure that no harm comes to these two? The fate of the Empire depends on it."
The Dragonborn was left speechless. What could she say to this? Ah, damn you, Arianna Carvain… damn you, Empire, she thought to herself. Definitely glad I'm not on the other side of the barricade. She shot a look to her new companions.
"At least you won't have to worry about the map," Ardur said with a comforting smile and put his hand around her shoulders. She stiffened. "Monkey time, then. Looks like you're stuck with me again, partner."
Aislinn rolled her eyes. "Wonderful! Just pack your things already."
So… it was about time we took a break from all that action, so here you go. Hopefully this chapter has served its purpose. You might find a slight inconsistency with Oblivion in my description of the altars of the Nine Divines, so I'd just like to point out that I am aware that there weren't any statues in the actual game. The altars were barely distinguishable from each other, so I took the liberty of changing that to match the Skyrim style rather than sticking to the original game. And who knows, two hundred years have passed, maybe they changed the altars over the time. ;)
As for "blocking" Mehrunes Dagon with the power of the Nine, well, I'm not planning for it to work perfectly, as you're going to see in one of the following chapters, but I wanted to point out certain important fact which, coincidentally, has a lot to do with Lucia and the way she uses her powers. Speaking of which, I'm kinda happy to see you're enjoying Lucia's progress. She's getting out of hand, to be honest, but it's fun writing her.
By the way… why do my chapters keep getting so long? :D
(Also, don't ever try to compose a song with only four syllables per line. It's terrible!)
Pietersielie:Thank you very much! I think I'm much better now, though I guess it's gonna come back to me when I attend the funeral, which is planned on Thursday. This chapter was kinda on the topic. Did not even plan for it…
Anyway, don't worry, you'll get your answers. Well, I can't say "soon", since a lot is going to happen before everything is revealed, but you will. Man, how I enjoy adding just a small part of the puzzle every chapter. And your comment made me laugh again. :D
Eric:Thank you. Actually, taking a break is the last thing I want to do, doing something helps me cope with it somehow… I think. As for your comment on the story… well, anything less than perfect is heresy, Urag is one of my most favorite characters of all time. I just love that guy… I mean orc. :D Reminds me I should get to my Winterhold fic soon… Anyway, about Lucia and Aislinn… well, I guess they're kinda… complementary. They'll be both important at the end of the day.
Thanks to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed this story, and I hope you continue to give me your support. Stay tuned!
Mirwen
Beta Reader's Note: [LOLOLELOLOL! I WROTE A BETA NOTE WITHOUT MIRWEN'S PERMISSION! Let's see if she notices O_O
Also, I would like to inform you that there is NOT ENOUGH CHEESE.
Consider this a warning.
Hehehehahhahah!
-Dart
P.S. Mirmir should have wrote a haiku. Those are fun.]
Yes, dart, I noticed. G-docs track changes, in case you haven't noticed. Nice note. :3
Though I won't write haiku in Skyrim. Unless the Akaviri come for a visit. I thought about a part of the story taking place in Akavir, but no, that would be too much. Better to save some ideas for other stories. :D
And hey! I actually added CHEESE to this chapter! Ungrateful! :'(
Thanks for the beta. ;)
Mirwen