Chapter XXXIX – Gods Save the Queen
"O, Olaf, our subjugator, the one-eyed betrayer,"
The Altmer chanted the tune to ensure the audience would follow along in the same melody. The bards behind him played soft music too. And soon, the murmurs of the crowd joined in.
"Death-dealing demon and dragon-killing King."
Bishop kept looking around the crowd, but he couldn't see Aeyrin anywhere. He even tried to concentrate on the voices of the people – he would recognize her singing anywhere. But he couldn't hear her. At least not through everyone else.
"Your legend is lies, lurid and false,
Your cunning capture of Numinex, a con for the ages.
No shouting match between dragon and man, no dire or fury did this battle entail."
He should get out of here. Where would she go? Maybe inside the building. Was anyone in there? Was it even open? Aeyrin would not be able to deal with a lock. And the door wasn't bashed in. Heh.
"Olaf, as all the Kings, a snake in disguise, cunning but frail.
He bribed and he lied rather than in battle fail.
As all those who from the great Empire hail."
"Wait what?"
Jordis's voice almost startled Bishop as he continued to ponder his plan.
"What 'what'?" He asked. He had no idea what she was talking about.
"Didn't you hear? That was… weird. I thought the point was not to offend the dead fucker and the Queen," she snorted.
What the fuck was she talking about?
Bishop did notice some of the people in the crowd murmur and look around uncertainly now. But most of them still just continued to sing.
"Olaf grabbed power by spreading his lies.
He spun a false tail about a dragon that dies.
All Kings must be trusted, thus he decreed.
And the fools of Solitude did those lies feed."
"Wait! Stop. This isn't…" the Altmer shook his head in panic, but the crowd continued to sing. The bards did stop playing though.
"Empire's puppets, slaves to weak Kings,
To this day, their life no good brings."
"Viarmo, what is the meaning of this?" Elisif gasped incredulously. "Is this some joke?"
"N-no. Your Majesty, this is a mistake! I didn't…" the elf stammered, but Elisif promptly reacted. This time the crowd actually began to quiet down.
"You said this festival was to celebrate the bravery and perseverance of Solitude, not that it was about disparaging the Empire and its people," she scowled at him, though she looked more hurt than stern. Did she take some stupid poem so personally?
"His idea of a joke, I'm afraid," someone else spoke with a deadpan look on her face – a young bardess with feathers in her hair. "I apologize, Your Majesty, we were preparing the leaflets and we saw… we tried to talk him out of it, but… he is our headmaster. He wouldn't hear any of it," she sighed.
"V-Viarmo?" Elisif's face bore nothing but confusion.
"He's a traitor to the Empire!" Someone from the crowd yelled.
"Ah, fuck. Not this shit again," Bishop grumbled. This was such a fucking familiar scene. He had no doubt this was another one of Azshan's schemes. Public lynching seemed to be the go to move.
"What?" Jordis whispered, clearly wary of disturbing the drama. But Bishop had no desire to explain his words.
"Yes, I am afraid so," the young bardess nodded. "Apologies, Your Majesty, Pantea Ateia. A senior tutor at the College. I apologize for our headmaster's brutish behavior. But traitors are not merely military. We had seen such acts before with artists who spread… rebellion amongst our people."
'Rebellion'? Was she insinuating that the Altmer was a Stormcloak supporter? Well… given that people like Alec were clearly forced into such things, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. But Bishop was more inclined to believe his original theory. This was definitely Azshan's doing.
"Get him the axe!" Someone from the crowd yelled again.
"What? No!" Elisif yelped. She seemed quite shocked by the crowd's reaction and she still looked at the elf with sorrowful confusion. "I… I'm sorry. This festival is… I cannot allow such blatant disrespect of our people to represent this festival."
"Burn Viarmo instead of Olaf!" Someone else called out.
"No! Please, settle down," Elisif shook her head again. "My… my dear citizens." She sounded like she was gonna start a speech, but she seemed so rattled. Bishop still didn't get why she was so obviously emotional. "I am very sorry, but in light of this… tasteless joke, I cannot allow the festival to continue. It was the right decision to cancel it and…"
"Wait, Your Majesty, please," the young bardess interrupted her. "This truly is not the sentiment the festival was supposed to convey. I have managed to find the original epic Viarmo transformed into this… travesty. We can still prove to you that it is a tradition worth preserving, despite someone's tasteless attempts at humor."
The bardess gestured to the other bards and they began to play the instruments once more. This time the crowd was not encouraged to sing. Instead, the bardess's voice alone carried on through the crowd.
Bishop didn't listen to the words. He just shook his head and weaved his way through the crowd again. The song was a good distraction for anyone and he could easily approach the building.
But when he got to the door, it was locked.
Huh. Aeyrin wouldn't be able to get in.
Where the fuck was she then? And Azshan wasn't anywhere to be seen either.
This was just supposed to be her eavesdropping at the courtyard. How the fuck did she disappear on him like this?
Maybe he really just didn't see her in the crowd?
He approached the people again just as the song ended. The audience erupted in cheers and claps – apparently this attempt was received much better. Bishop just felt lost though. Like he was running in circles. There really weren't that many places here where she could be.
"Thank you, Pantea. I appreciate you showing me the true meaning of the festival," Elisif nodded slowly. "It may be held next year as well."
People begin to hoot and clap once more. Of course they did – free food and drinks, who wouldn't cheer?
"Now, let us begin the burning of the effigy, shall we?" Elisif smiled softly, but Bishop could still swear he saw sorrow on her face, even across the crowd and without his vantage point.
"Your Majesty, did you not have an announcement to make?" That Pantea person interrupted her.
"Ah, yes. I was going to… ah… well…" Elisif stammered uncharacteristically. "I suppose I need to..." her voice was oddly quiet, but it carried through the night and the silent anticipating crowd. "Very well. My dear citizens, I am pleased to announce that in the spirit of renewal, the festival is not the only thing that warrants a new era. There is a place in my court for a loremaster to advise me on the matters of history, arts, tradition and culture. And I would be pleased to offer this role to… uhm… to Lady Ateia. For honoring true customs in the spirit they were intended in."
So… this was what this fucking thing was about. Another position in court occupied by one of theirs, Bishop assumed as much at least. A familiar tale.
Bishop wouldn't normally care, but this shit was pissing him off. It was pissing him off that Aeyrin would have liked to prevent this but she clearly couldn't and he had no idea where she was holed up. Did Azshan drag her somewhere?
And it also kind of pissed him off to see Elisif still looking so crestfallen. He liked her. She saved his life with that pardon. And she always helped them out with shit, even with Tullius's insane ideas. She didn't deserve these fuckers messing with her court, surrounding her like this and without a doubt manipulating her every step of the way.
He still didn't get why she couldn't know. He still didn't know why they were supposed to keep their mouths shut about all this to protect the few assholes in the Order when clearly more people were still suffering with this. Like the Altmer bard – that Vigarmo or whatever. He looked so fucking confused. At least last time they did this, they got rid of a jackass like Erikur. Maybe this one was a dick too, but Bishop doubted that their intentions were so noble.
Ugh, fuck, he just wanted to find Aeyrin and get out of here. It was making him feel bitter to see all this go down.
…
"Bryling, darling, please put that away."
Azshan raised his hands in a calming gesture while Bryling still stood there with the sword brandished. It looked somewhat ridiculous with her long fancy gown. She probably stole it from the College.
But the origin of that sword was not important. The important part was that she had it. And they were unarmed. And without any protection on them.
They were still two trained warriors and she was a noblewoman, right? They could take her.
"Don't 'darling' me," Bryling scoffed. "Traitor. I knew you'd crack. You were screwing up everything for so long because of her, I'm not buying your excuses anymore. And I heard you."
This sounded bad. Aeyrin was still standing by Azshan's side, wary of moving. There wasn't really anywhere to move without being seen by Bryling. Could they just rush her? Was she even going to do anything with the sword?
"Melaran!" Bryling called out.
Oh no. A mage. She was calling for the mage. They were done for.
And Azshan seemed to come to the same conclusion.
He didn't hesitate anymore and he took a determined step forward. He quickly reached out for her sword-wielding arm to take the weapon away from her.
But Bryling seemed much more ready than one could expect from someone like her. The second Azshan outstretched his arm, she slashed against it. Not only that, she cut through. Aeyrin could see the sword lodge into a spot a little above Azshan's elbow and it gleamed with fiery light. It was enchanted! And as Azshan let out a loud scream of pain, she finished the job entirely.
Aeyrin could do nothing but gasp when she saw Azshan's cut off arm fall onto the stone ground. It all happened so fast. Azshan was screaming in pain and it seemed to distort all reality around her. She had seen a scene like this many times before in combat, but it was much different being on the other side of it.
The scream stopped much sooner than it should have when Azshan got enveloped with white light. The mage arrived very quickly. And only a second later, his hands lit up with menacing flames.
"Back inside, both of you. Now," the mage growled.
Azshan was shaking. He kept grabbing at his bicep above the cut off part while blood streamed from the wound. They needed to stop that! His mouth was open as if he was still screaming, but no sound came out at all.
But the mage looked very ready to hurt him further.
Aeyrin quickly grabbed Azshan's other arm and dragged him back to the room. What else could they do? They couldn't stand like this against a mage. And clearly these nobles had no issue with mangling them even if they wouldn't kill them.
Blood left a trail behind Azshan as he tried to follow. His steps looked unstable and he was still shaking. This was no time for any other stupid daring actions. He wouldn't be able to heal himself in this state. She needed to do whatever she could so that he wouldn't bleed out. That was the only priority right now. They would find a way to escape after that.
Azshan sat down on the bed heavily just as the door locked behind them. He probably still had the key, but there was no doubt that those two wouldn't let that door out of sight anymore. Aeyrin wished so much that the festival would end so that people would return here and find those despicable assholes and see them for what they were.
But Aeyrin knew she wouldn't be that lucky. Everything was happening fast. The festival was probably barely in full swing.
"Let me look at it," she whispered to Azshan. He kept clutching the sleeve of his doublet as if he wanted to stop it from bleeding that way. It wouldn't work and he knew it. He was a much more skilled healer than her. But in this state, he couldn't do a thing, probably not even think straight.
He just lost an arm. It was hard to wrap one's head around the implications for him.
He said they knew how to ruin his life. This was one way. Azshan's whole life was being a paladin. And he couldn't do that with one arm, not with his training. Maybe he could learn to fight effectively with one-handed weapons. Maybe he would be able to continue his calling without his full arsenal of two hands to cast magic, to wield his claymore, to protect him in his full plate. They couldn't fall into despair yet.
"You're gonna be alright, I promise, just let go of that sleeve, please," she continued talking quietly. Even though she wasn't saying anything bad, she didn't want those two outside the door to listen. And she knew they could hear them. She herself heard muffled whispers through the door as they discussed something vehemently.
Azshan obeyed almost absentmindedly. She wasn't sure if his voice returned yet. It didn't seem like it. But she still needed to just concentrate on the bleeding.
She rolled up the remains of his sleeve carefully. The wound was horrible to look at. It was thoroughly charred and black, but there was still blood pouring from it. She needed to stop the bleeding as best as she could. Azshan's doublet was from a sturdy material, but the blanket on the bed was very thin. She promptly tore a strip of it and tied it very firmly around his arm. If need be, there were still the discarded ropes there, but that would just hurt him more.
When that was done, she concentrated on closing the wound. She knew she wouldn't be able to, but maybe it would help a little. She was rattled too, but she had to concentrate on her magic and help him.
Her hands lit up eventually and she reached out to the wound, careful not to touch it. The bleeding was slowing down at least, that was good. Azshan looked woozy. But he was still there with her. Still not passed out. And after a while, even the sounds of his shuddering breaths returned. She noticed him raise his hale hand as if he was readying to cast a spell, but nothing happened.
"Y-you… you stopped the… the bleeding…" he spoke even more quietly than her. He sounded incredulous. She wasn't sure if she should take it as an insult to her abilities or just his disbelief that he wasn't just going to bleed out.
"I'm trying to…" she sighed. Her spell dissipated after a bit. The wound didn't close at all. The bleeding was barely there, but the wound was partly magical and beyond her can.
"It's… it's alright…" he nodded. "I guess… I guess I shoulda… known. Had this coming…"
"Nobody has this coming," Aeyrin shook her head briskly. "We need to get out of here and get you to a temple. And then… figure out what to do. I… dammit," she chastised herself. It was not helpful to talk about this when they were locked in here. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't do anything."
Instead of answering at first, she suddenly felt his hale hand wrap around her shoulder as she knelt by the bed. He pulled himself closer, enveloping her in a hug. She wasn't sure why that suddenly made her cry. She couldn't stop the tears rolling from her eyes. But she wasn't the only one. When Azshan pulled back, his eyes were tellingly watery.
"Thank you… I… I wouldn't have blamed you if you… let me…"
"Stop that," she hissed at him. "I wouldn't. And I'm not gonna let them do anything more to you." She meant it. Despite the horrible fear and bitterness of the situation, she felt, for the first time in ages, as if she was really back here with the friend she used to know.
"I know… I know… I said it was a bad idea but… well… after this… can you… can you do something? Can you… Shout our way out?" He asked in a hushed voice.
Oh Gods. This was heartbreaking. She would have been able to, if it weren't for that monster. And she was not willing to let that monster roam free without Bishop around. Especially not in front of wounded Azshan. What if the smell of blood riled it up?
"I… I can't," she shook her head in desperation. "I can't Shout."
"What? I… saw you Shout before," his eyes went wide.
"Something… something happened to me. It's… temporary, but… I can't control it right now…" She wasn't willing to elaborate further. Not now. They needed to get out in another way.
Right at that moment, they heard the sound of keys and the door swung open once more. Bryling and the mage entered. The woman was lucky her gown was dark red. When Aeyrin concentrated, she could see the blood stains on her. The room itself, as well as Aeyrin's and Azshan's clothes were not nearly as lucky. There was so much blood everywhere. Aeyrin was a little surprised that Azshan was still conscious. He was clearly in so much pain, breathing heavily and whimpering every now and then, but at least the bleeding was stopped by cutting off the circulation and by the efforts of her spell.
"Well now, darling," Bryling snorted at the sight of Azshan in this state. "We have an idea which will leave you both alive and you won't do anything stupid. Sounds good?"
Azshan only threw her a nasty glare but he didn't speak. He might not have been able to speak much through the pain. Even the words he had exchanged with Aeyrin were so labored and strained before. Aeyrin had the urge to lunge at Bryling for doing this to Azshan. That woman was a menace – first blackmailing Casavir, ruining his life, now this?
But the mage was still standing there threateningly with his hands ready.
"Dealing with your deaths would be a pain for us after all. But rest assured, neither of you will say a word to anyone," Bryling looked at Azshan first. "You know what we have on you. Your affairs, which a lot of us can testify to, will have you thrown out of the Order like that," she snapped her fingers. "And then, of course, there's the evidence of your treasonous behavior, which we have plenty of. It all depends on how much you misbehave, which ammunition we'll use."
"Maybe… it's… worth it," Azshan mumbled, his breathing still strained. Gods, couldn't they give him a potion for the pain or something?
"Hmm, we'll see what you think in a while. In any case, you are done here. You will resign from the Order, because you are clearly useless to them now," the woman smirked as she gestured to his arm. "Or you will apply for relocation. Bottom line, you will leave Solitude. I don't care where you go, but you'll be nowhere near here anymore. Casavir will obviously still stay in charge in name, but we have already another member of your merry bunch we have been preparing to elevate to your previous position and status. You know, when we started doubting your usefulness after the debacle in the Reach."
"Pfft… you think… it surprises me you… have another… corrupt puppet there?" He gritted his teeth, struggling to get the words out.
"Nice opinion you have of yourself," Bryling smirked. "Well then, you disobey, your life is over. One way or another. If you do as I say, you will have a chance to avoid disgrace and maybe stay in your church if they'd even want a cripple. But you will not stay here and you will not interfere with us again."
Azshan only nodded slowly. Not that Aeyrin knew what else he could do at that point. She had no idea how much they had on him, but… if they could pin everything they'd done on him, especially the stuff regarding Fort Snowhawk… he would be branded a traitor to the Empire. He would be executed for certain.
But Aeyrin was in no such position. When the woman turned to her, Aeyrin remained confidently defiant as she snarled at her. They had nothing on her. They had nothing on Bishop. Let her bring it on.
"And you, dear Dragonborn," Bryling smirked. "You will keep your damn mouth shut about anything you have learned here or before. And you will never interfere with our operations again."
"Or?" Aeyrin scoffed at her. They had nothing.
"Oh I'm so glad you asked," Bryling chuckled. "Did you know that when the majority of the court votes for it, we can rescind one's thaneship? The majority which we hold, as of today."
"You honestly think I care about those stupid titles?" Aeyrin almost had an urge to laugh. This was what they threatened her with? She knew these idiots cared about nothing but titles and status, but she didn't even want the thaneship in the first place. It was just convenient.
"No, of course not. But you might care about that house of yours," Bryling smirked, but when she saw Aeyrin roll her eyes, she quickly elaborated. "Or, more precisely, the citizenship that comes with it. I'm pretty sure a certain General would be interested to know you can no longer claim that particular… protection."
Oh Gods. Without the house, Tullius could force-recruit her to his war!
"And needless to say, even one of you makes trouble for us, you'll both suffer for it. That's what friends do, no?" Bryling laughed meanly.
Aeyrin and Azshan only exchanged a disturbed look. These were… effective threats. Granted. Especially when they would all come to pass if even one of them misstepped. But leaving Elisif and Solitude to these vultures was just as unthinkable. They had to help her somehow. These people were doing horrible things. They sacrificed an entire Hold!
They had to be stopped.
But not by stupidly disagreeing now.
"And how exactly are we supposed to get out of here anyway?" Aeyrin huffed.
"We'll get you out," Bryling gestured towards the other door in the room. "It leads back out on the streets. They will be mostly empty now. The festival is still quite lively. But you won't be attending anymore. See, you overheard someone there talk about their caravan being ambushed by bandits. And as any good protectors of our fair Solitude, you left the party to go hunt these bandits down. It didn't go well for you," she smirked at Azshan. "You best tell the priests that this is what happened when you go see them. Understood?"
"Yeah," Azshan growled angrily, his voice coming out hoarse through gritted teeth. What else could either of them do? They needed to agree for now and they needed to talk. Alone.
"Good. Then we're all in agreement," Bryling nodded. "No funny business. We'll know."
She made it pretty clear.
She finally stepped towards the second door and fished out a key from her cleavage. She promptly unlocked it for them – it really did lead into a dark side alley.
"Go. And I hope I won't ever see you again, darling."
Azshan only gave her a deadpan stare in return as he tried to get up from the bed. He wavered a bit and Aeyrin was promptly there to support him. She needed to help him walk. And somehow not be seen coming from this direction – that wouldn't make sense. They needed to take the darker alleys to get him to the temple.
They set off as quickly as was possible with Azshan being all woozy, eager to get away from these two. They just needed a moment. A moment alone to think. Both of them. Aeyrin led him around the houses, away from the main road, but as they passed the house opposite her mansion, Azshan stopped her.
"I can't… stand this," he shook his head, exhausted huffs leaving his lips. "I… I'll be good… just get me… a potion, please… I'll heal myself then."
"You have to go to the temple," she gasped at him. He knew better than anyone how important it was.
"I will. Promise… just… we need to talk. Please… just take me to your place."
Well… alright. She wasn't sure how she would stand waiting to talk to him while he was getting healed either. It wasn't a bad plan. She would give him a potion there, let him rest a bit, he would heal himself as best as he could and then he would let them check him out at the temple.
And through that, they could actually talk. They really needed to.
They needed to save Elisif from this.
…
The large flames brightened the entire courtyard as the effigy burned.
But it just made Bishop more frustrated. The additional light did nothing for his ability to find Aeyrin. She was nowhere to be seen. He even considered breaking into the College, but with all the people there, still celebrating, it was impossible to remain hidden.
So what could he do? He just continued his search relentlessly, even though the result was still the same. No Aeyrin. No Azshan. Where the fuck could they have gone?
"Hey, sourpuss," Jordis nudged him when she returned with another drink in her hand. She was really drunk by now. Luckily though, she didn't try anything again. She was just a bit annoying, but that may have been his changed perception of her. Fuck, he hated her for ruining their… almost friendship.
"Can't you at least have a drink or someth'n?" She nudged him again. "Come on, boooring."
"I need to find Aeyrin," he growled. "I'll drink after."
Jordis answered with a resounding 'pffft' and she took a deep gulp from her cup. Well, more booze might put her to sleep soon. Thought Bishop kinda dreaded having to drag her home.
"Excuse me," someone tapped his shoulder suddenly and he turned around to see a dark-haired woman in a deep red dress that looked maybe vaguely familiar. He had seen her sometimes at those fancy events, like Aeyrin being named a Thane, or maybe the ball? He didn't recall. The opulent outfit gave her away as one of those fancy fops though.
"What?" He growled at her. He couldn't help it. He was so fucking frustrated and he was in no mood for whatever bullshit this was now.
"Did you say 'Aeyrin'? The Dragonborn? She left," the woman promptly explained. What? Left? Where? "I spoke to her and her paladin friend briefly. They overheard someone talk of a caravan being attacked right outside the city gates. They went to check it out, I believe. Bandits or such."
What? Well… it did sound a bit like Aeyrin, but… what? Bandits? Right outside of Solitude? With the guards everywhere… and the reinforcements from Cyrodiil...
That was a fucking lie.
"Huh. Thanks," he nodded at the woman and watched her disappear into the crowd again momentarily. Why would she lie? Where the fuck was Aeyrin?
"Pffft, so fucking obvious," Jordis chuckled. Fuck, what now? "So made up."
Bishop was moderately impressed that she caught on at all.
"Yeah. How do you figure?" He smirked. What was her theory?
"They obviously told that to some people here. So that they could go fuck."
Ah. Right. This again. Bishop merely rolled his eyes at her.
"Wanna bet?" Jordis scoffed. "Come on then," she promptly grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him along, away from the courtyard and into the main street. Bishop wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he sure as fuck hoped she wouldn't drag him into another shadowy corner.
Fortunately, she stopped in the middle of the street. She looked up at the moons for a while and then she let out a brief laugh.
"Hah! See?!" She pointed to the skies.
What? What the fuck?
He looked up, but there wasn't anything… wait.
The lights were on in the mansion's bedroom. Someone was in there. That was what she was ineptly pointing at.
"Told you they were fuckin'," she shrugged.
They were not fucking. But he had no idea what they were doing. Aeyrin wouldn't just go home without Bishop, right? She would have at least let him know if something was going on.
Alright, time to go.
"Come, you need to sleep it off anyway," he inclined his head towards Jordis and he began marching towards the cellar entrance.
"Oooh, there's gonna be drama," Jordis laughed.
"No. No drama. And you're going to your room. I'll handle this alone, got it?" He snarled. The last thing he needed was her involved.
"Pfft, spoilsport."
"Yeah, yeah," he sighed as he unlocked the door and waited for Jordis to stumble inside. He promptly locked it back behind them.
First of all, he made sure Jordis went to her room and collapsed on the bed. She may have already forgotten about the 'drama', thank the fucking Gods.
But now he needed to get upstairs quickly.
Why was he panicked? Did Jordis actually get to him? It kept gnawing at him unpleasantly. He trusted Aeyrin. Why couldn't he get rid of these thoughts and doubts?
He rushed up the stairs silently, thanks to his muffling ring, and he stopped in front of the closed door to the master bedroom. He could hear talking. He could just go in, but… fuck. He couldn't help it. He needed to hear what they were saying first.
"… better like this?" Aeyrin's soft voice echoed from behind the door.
"Yeah. Thank you, honey." That was definitely Azshan. Fuck. Bishop kind of expected that, but it still made him nervous. Fucking Jordis making him insecure like this. "I… I still can't really…"
"Shh, it's alright. Take your time." Aeyrin soothed him. Take his time with what? What the fuck were they doing? Why did everything suddenly sound like an innuendo to Bishop?
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Azshan asked. Fuck, that sounded fishy.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," Aeyrin sighed. What?! No fucking way.
"You know what?" Azshan scoffed, he sounded surprised at himself. "Me too. But what if someone finds out? What if someone sees?"
"We have to make sure to be discreet. Come on, lean back a bit."
Alright. Fuck. That was it. What the fuck was happening right now? Bishop was fed up tonight.
Calm the fuck down. Just don't barge in like a lunatic. She wouldn't cheat on you. Calm the fuck down.
He took a deep breath and opened the door slowly. Like a normal person would. But he was not prepared for what he saw.
Aeyrin was standing by the bed, propping up a pillow under Azshan's head. The Redguard himself was shirtless, lying there, but before Bishop's mind could panic about that, he noticed it. The black bloody pulp where his arm used to be.
He wasn't sure if he was relieved. Maybe he was even more freaked out. Aeyrin's clothes were covered in blood, though not hers. He could tell. Her werewolf blood was a bit different now. It was likely Azshan's.
Was the bandit story true? How could it be? Azshan wore full plate. And unless they were both idiotic enough to go to battle unarmored, nobody would ever be able to cut his arm off in a fucking full plate. And Aeyrin's chainmail wouldn't let that much blood through on her clothes.
"Bish," Aeyrin looked up at him while he still wasn't able to process this. "I'm sorry, I couldn't come back… uhm…" she gestured to the paladin lying on the bed.
Yeah, he could see that. What the fuck happened to them? How did Azshan lose an entire fucking arm on a stupid festival?
Did Aeyrin do this to him? Did they get in a fight?
Oh fuck, she didn't get wolfy on him, did she?
Enough guessing, nimrod. What's the fucking point of guessing?
The night had already been sufficiently ruined by various assumptions. It was time, for once, to get the truth.
"What the fuck happened?"
