DRAGON CRISIS

Destiny Unraveled

IX

12th of Sun's Dawn, 4E 203

"You are not coming with us," Kaani's ears folded backward and her nose wrinkled as she hissed at Nyx. "That wasn't what we agreed upon!"

"You're going back on foot to Whiterun," Veilheim piped in. "You do realize the wilds are dangerous?"

"We'll be better off without you," Kaani growled. "Besides, for all I know, you will charge us for the service."

Nyx and Veilheim exchanged looks before Nyx shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we're not altruistic men, if that's what you mean."

Kaani groaned and stormed off with Nyx following her across the stone bridge that connected Morthal with a mill nearby. Veilheim was about to follow after the two but got distracted by a rather buxom farm girl that passed by. Meanwhile, Ziiah minded her own business as she sat on the bridge's railing. She was immersed in the rows of words on a piece of parchment that they retrieved from Ustengrav. Anxiety nearly consumed her as she went back and forth between all the possible suspects who might've left the note. Could it be Balgruuf? she wondered again. She recalled the man's words as she left Whiterun; about how she should change the world and whatnot. At least I think that's what he meant, she mused before shrugging it off. Might be wrong. She threw her head backward and let out a frustrated sigh. Damn it all. Then, she heard footsteps. Glancing to her right, she saw Kaani fuming as she stomped toward her.

"Do you intend to sit there all day?!" she growled.

Ziiah was silent for a moment. "There's no right answer to this question, is there?"

Kaani rolled her eyes. "You're unbelievable."

"I know," Ziiah chuckled before jumping off the railing. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well," Kaani sighed, "the plan was for us alone to go back to Whiterun but it seems we'll have some company."

As Kaani pointed towards the other end of the bridge, Ziiah noticed Nyx and Veilheim standing all too proud of themselves as they waved at them. Ziiah resisted the urge to laugh and instead threw her hand around Kaani's waist.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Ziiah said with a smile. "If worst comes to pass, we'll just throw them to the wolves."

Kaani laughed hesitantly. "That's mean, Ziiah."

Ziiah merely smirked as they walked toward the men.


Standing not so far from the gang were Tarhrin and Loro. Hidden behind a pillar of Moorside Inn's patio, they observed the gang as they made their way out of Morthal.

"They seem to get along well," Loro said suddenly, much to Tarhrin's surprise as he kept looking back and forth between his comrade and the group.

"Well?" Tarhrin asked. "I guess that's one way to describe it."

"Why are we tailing them from the distance?" Loro asked, changing the subject. "We should confront Ziiah and take her back to Whiterun by force."

Tarhrin rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to snap back at the Harbinger. "While I'm confident in your abilities as a warrior, Ziiah is a bit stronger than you."

"Just because she can Shout?" Loro scoffed.

"Have you forgotten how the late High King fared against the Bear of Markarth?" Tahrhin asked, his tone serious for a change.

Loro went quiet. The last High King, Torygg Istlodsson, was stripped of his title and crown by a Shout - if the stories were accurate and true. Upon the signing of the White Gold Concordat, the treaty that ended the Great War thirty years earlier, Ulfric Stormcloak challenged the High King and murdered/defeated him. The accounts vary depending on who tells the tale but all ended in the same way.

"Some say it was a sword to his chest that truly ended his life," Loro countered. "I'll take my chances."

"I witnessed it, Loro," Tarhrin said darkly, piercing the Harbinger with his cold gaze. "High King Torygg was Shouted to death."

Loro was silent for a moment. "Really?"

Tarhrin nodded. "The Stormcloaks bark in Ulfric's defense but the truth is, the young man was ill-prepared against the seasoned warrior. A Shout was enough to kill him."

"Still, Ulfric challenged him to a single combat," Loro said. "Either death or submission means defeat."

"Yes, that's true," Tarhrin confessed, "however he also broke the rules of that same arrangement. He chose the sword as his weapon of choice, not the Voice."

Loro glanced back at the raven-haired girl. "So, she has that same power?"

"Worse still," Tarhrin said. "She's stronger than Ulfric."

Suddenly, Loro chuckled. "Does that mean she could be the next High Queen?"

Tarhrin smirked. "My friend, she is capable of toppling the Empire if she so pleased."

Scary, Loro thought before changing the subject. "They're leaving."

"Finally," Tarhrin said as he urged the Orc to move.


Elvaynu and Babette sat atop one of the watchtowers in Whiterun, casually looking over the panoramic view of the surrounding area. Normally, this would be a cause for an alarm as they had no such privilege of access. However, with the two dead guardsmen at their feet, matters such as 'access' or 'privilege' suddenly seemed pointless.

"Tell me, why are we here again?" Babette asked as she brushed the corners of her mouth where the blood of the guardsmen stained her alabaster skin.

Elvaynu fumbled with her dagger as she answered, "We're here to kill our benefactor."

"Our benefactor who still hasn't paid us," Babette stated.

"Oh, but he will, love," Elvaynu mused. "Come sunset, he will."

"I will fry before the sunset, love," Babette scoffed. "Besides, why kill him?"

Elvaynu glanced at the horizon, seemingly lost in thought. "It's personal."

Babette frowned. "Motierre is a member of the Elder Council. His death is needless and it would bring us - "

"Reputation," Elvaynu finished. "The Brotherhood needs its reputation back and if we demonstrate our power in this way, the Empire will think twice before sending the likes of Maro at us."

Babette was dissatisfied with her answer but remained silent nonetheless. After all, Elvaynu was the Listener and her word was the word of Sithis. Ah, if only the Dread Father chose someone more reasonable for the job, the Breton vampire mused wordlessly as she fantasized about carrying the mantle herself.

"You're dreaming again, Bee," Elvaynu chuckled. "It'll get you killed. It's dangerous for children these days."

The girl smiled, almost resembling an innocent child about to do something naughty. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Elvaynu smiled back.

"What's the plan then?" Bebette asked.

The Dunmer woman glared at the Bannered Mare. The local tavern was a centerpiece of entertainment and comfort for Whiterun's citizens. Many people spent their free time there which meant that committing murder was that much harder. Elvaynu thought carefully about her options. What to do, what to do...? She then noticed an Imperial soldier leaving the tavern. From what it appeared, he was headed to the main gate, possibly out of the city. It was rare to see a proud supporter of the Empire parading in their uniform around the otherwise neutral Whiterun which signaled to Elvaynu that their target was most likely alone at the moment.

"Bebette, my dear," Elvaynu purred. "It seems Motierre sent away his bodyguard."

"Really?" the Breton girl said in surprise. "I thought that brute was sworn to protect his master."

"Poor, poor Motierre," Elvaynu chuckled. "So naive - believing he's safe with Titus dead."

Bebette glanced at her Sister as she spoke. Elvaynu was smiling; it was that smile, the one that she used as a facade, a way to mask her thoughts from unwelcome attention. Bebette knew better than to question the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. Nevertheless, she was curious as to what exactly happened aboard the Katariah between the assassin and the Emperor.

"Should we pay him a visit?" Bebette asked. "I'm hungry."

Elvaynu gave her Sister a sympathetic look. "I know, my dear but wait just a while longer."

Bebette sighed as she glanced at the horizon. "Bloody sunset..."

"Oh," Elvaynu sighed, "it will be."


"Will you pick up the pace, boys?"

"Get off our backs, cat-woman! We're going as fast as we can!"

"Easy, gentlemen!"

"She started it!"

"I'm ending it," Ziiah growled as her voice boomed across the vast savannah. "We have an hour, maybe an hour and a half until nightfall. Shut your traps and keep walking."

"Who made you the boss?" Veilheim protested but was quickly silenced by Nyx who jabbed him in the ribs.

"She's the Dragonborn, idiot," the Imperial seethed.

Veilheim scoffed but refrained from commenting further. Meanwhile, Ziiah pulled Kaani a bit from the rest of the group, desiring a bit of privacy.

"Before you come at me, I'll have you know that we're behind schedule," Kaani quickly said in defense.

Ziiah rolled her eyes. "I know but that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

Kaani frowned. "What is it, then?"

Ziiah looked over her shoulder. "I think we're being followed."

Kaani hummed. "Yes, we are."

"What?" Ziiah said through her teeth.

Kaani rolled her eyes. "I'm a Khajiit; I have a sensitive nose. Did you think I haven't noticed them all this time?"

"You didn't mention this because...?" Ziiah asked, unnerved.

"Because they had no choice on the matter," she said matter-of-factly. "As much as I distaste both of them, they were given a difficult task, much like myself."

Ziiah frowned. "That's different."

Kaani stopped in her tracks. "Is it? I followed you - blindly, if I may add - to a fucking Nordic ruin to figure out your visions, or dreams, or whatever in the Oblivion they are."

"You can always go back," Ziiah said sternly. "You left me on a mountain once, you can leave me in the savannah too."

"Go back where Ziiah?" Kaani retorted. "Sybil is out of her mind and Enthir can't tell which way is up. The rest of the staff tries to occupy their minds with anything else while the College is falling to pieces, waiting to be picked up by self-serving scavengers. I sure as fuck can't do anything about it at this point which brings me back to my previous question - go back where?"

Ziiah was silent.

"Precisely," Kaani said. "Let the Orc and the Elf go about their business. They'll probably intercept us in Whiterun and have us go to the Jarl. Have a short talk with the man and be done with it. You can do that much, yes?"

She didn't wait for Ziiah to reply as she continued down the road, followed by the rest of the gang.


A few hundred feet behind the gang, Tarhrin and Loro tried to keep up with their tempo. They were strutting over the savannah which for the heavy-weighted warrior and normally inactive spymaster was challenging.

"They've got a lot of stamina," Loro said in between breaths. "Who would've thought?"

"It's one thing if I say that," Tarhrin said, swallowing. "You, however - what's up with that weak composure? Don't you do drills at the Jorrvaskr?"

Loro rolled his eyes. "The Companions are made up of drunks, former criminals, war veterans, scoundrels, and wannabe heroes."

"Which one are you?" Tarhrin asked with a smirk on his face.

Loro was silent for a moment. "If you're asking which one I was, it matters little at this point."

"I beg to differ," Tarhrin chuckled.

"Why?" Loro shot back.

Tarhrin shrugged his shoulders. "I should know who's with me in all of this mess."

Loro made a stop and looked over his shoulder at the Elf. "Likewise."

Caught off guard in a rare moment of carelessness, Tarhrin was at a loss for words. He hadn't expected such a question, mostly because the Orc displayed nothing but annoyance up until that point. It seems I piqued someone's interest, he thought as the Orc turned back around and continued walking down the main road.


"Finally," Veilheim groaned as the gang arrived at Whiterun's stables. More precisely, the Nord had shouted in relief by the time the city was visible from the main road but he felt genuine happiness when they arrived at the stables. Ziiah found his childlike personality endearing, if a bit alarming at times. For an adult, she thought, he's rather carefree. Then again, she had made wrong assumptions before. Suddenly, the image of Mercer Frey flashed before her eyes. She tensed up slightly but not to the extent of drawing attention. Calm down, she repeated to herself, he's gone, he can't harm you any longer. Yet, the wound in her abdomen bolted with a familiar pain that stretched from her innards up and down her spine. Ziiah suppressed a groan as she controlled her breathing. Easy, easy. When the breathing thing didn't work, she averted her attention to her company. Veilheim and Nyx were already discussing what they will drink while Kaani seemed relieved to be near the end of their journey. She sighed as they neared the main gate, her stiff shoulders relaxing into a less stiff position. Slowly, the pain subdued but hardly disappeared. Damn it, Ziiah thought as the sensation pulsed through her gut. Once at the main gate, they were approached by the guardsmen. While Ziiah and Kaani were familiar faces, their entourage was not. Luckily, Kaani persuaded the watch to let them pass.

"Stay out of trouble, kinsmen," one of them said to the men, their bushy brows furrowed.

"Will do," Veilheim saluted as they passed through.

All of the tension dispersed as they found themselves inside the city walls. Granted, it was dark and a bit chilly but comfortable for the most part. That is until Veilheim spoke again.

"Well, lassies," he said, turning to Ziiah and Kaani, "that would be all. It was a pleasure to accompany you."

Ziiah chuckled while Kaani scoffed, "I can only imagine."

"We're going to the Bannered Mare," Nyx added with a smile. "Unless you wish to buy us drinks, let's settle the payment and we all go our separate ways."

Kaani was about to bark back at the Imperial but Ziiah reached for her pouch and threw it to the man. "I believe this will be enough?"

Nyx weighed the pouch before winking at her. "More than enough."

Ziiah smirked but said nothing as she beckoned Kaani to follow her to the Jarl's keep. Before they could get far, however, they heard a commotion. They exchanged curious looks as the sounds appeared to be coming from inside the tavern. Alarmed, they reached for their weapons as they prepared for a fight. Bursting through the front door was a distraught woman. Ziiah quickly recognized her as Ysolda and rushed to the woman's side. She tried to calm her down, grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Calm down, Ysolda," Ziiah said loudly. "What happened?!"

A bumbling mess, Ysolda tried to explain what had happened but she could barely form a cohesive sentence. "A man... It was a while...I checked inside, asked if he...if he... oh, Divines..."

Ziiah turned to Kaani and said, "Go inside, see what's going on."

Needn't be told twice, the Khajiit mage rushed inside the establishment with Nyx following after her while Veilheim stayed outside with Ziiah and Ysolda. Making their way inside, the two found the entire establishment on their feet and huddled next to a specific pair of doors.

"I might be wrong but," Nyx said, "I think something happened in that room."

"Honestly," she replied, "I hope you're wrong."

Silently, he hoped as well. Pushing their way through the mass, after a few long moments of struggle, they finally reached the front row. Kaani nearly cursed as she witnessed the utter terror in the room. There was a nobleman, dead as dead can be. He was left sitting on the chair with his head hanging on the side. A trail of dried blood stained the left side of his chin. Kaani noticed that his stomach was pierced by a dagger or sword along with his heart. There were no signs of struggle or distress or fight. This wasn't a thief, she thought before looking above the corpse at the wall. A single handprint could be seen, in red. Kaani came closer to inspect the handprint when she suddenly smelled a peculiar scent in the air. She frowned before urging Nyx to call the guards.

"Everyone's seen it already," he whispered to her ear.

"I know," she said. "Still, this is not our problem to handle so call the guards."

Hesitant, Nyx obliged and left her alone in the room. Meanwhile, Ziiah and Veilheim managed to calm Ysolda down and had her sit down inside the Bannered Mare. Capable of normal speech once again, she told them what happened.

"I noticed he hadn't called for another round of drinks or food," she said. "His aide was gone as well, he was alone in the room which is why I checked on him."

"Have you seen anyone enter his room?" Ziiah asked but Ysolda shook her head. "No one at all?"

"There's a lot of traffic these days but I know nearly everyone in this city," she said softly. "If there was an assassin inside, they were well hidden."

Ziiah sighed. "Do we even know who the man is?"

"A nobleman," Ysolda said. "He didn't talk much and paid a lot to be left alone."

"Seems he was being cautious," Veilheim commented.

"I'd go along the lines of paranoid," Ysolda said. "He refused to even introduce himself."

"Meaning he'd been expecting someone after his life," Ziiah concluded.

They were interrupted by Kaani who approached them. Ziiah glanced at her friend and noticed a curl between her brows.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Kaani sighed, unsure of how to answer. "I...picked up a scent in there. A familiar one."

Ziiah frowned. "You know them?"

Kaani nodded, adding, "You know them too."

"Of course I do," Ziiah scoffed. "Well, who is it?"

Kaani bit her lower lip before she whispered, "I think it's Elvaynu."

For a moment, Ziiah couldn't breathe. Unknown to her, Veilheim couldn't either.

"Elvaynu?" Ziiah asked and Kaani nodded hesitantly. "Elvaynu Nares?"

"Do you know some other Elvaynu?" Kaani asked sarcastically.

Ziiah sighed. "Sorry, it's just... I was surprised, is all."

"Do you know her?" Veilheim asked all of a sudden.

Kaani looked at Ziiah before answering the Nord, "Yes, she's an old acquaintance."

Veilheim frowned. "I see..."

"Do you know her?" Ziiah asked.

"Oh, I know her alright," he said with an obvious displeasure in his tone.

Ziiah frowned but said nothing as they were joined by Nyx and a couple of guardsmen. The guardsmen were quick to send everyone off to their homes save for Ysolda and the gang. Once the tavern was empty of bystanders, the guards made their way to the scene of the crime. This is going to be a long night, Ziiah thought as the investigation began.