Chapter 21: The Nightingale
AN: Welcome back to The Old Kingdom.
(Act 5: The Crimson Dirks)
**✿❀ ❀✿**
Stesha, Serana, and Gwendal arrived back in Markarth-Side inside the Silver-Blood Inn, observing the regal runic make of the hotel. There were no people in it, the same as last time. Serana took some raw animal meat that was lining the walls to drink blood from while Stesha cooked something over the fire with a pan. His brows furrowed when trying to avoid the oil sizzling there as the chicken crackled and popped.
Stesha observed Serana suck the blood out of the raw meat as some ran down her neck, sending a chill down his spine. "Serana, can I cook you something to eat? Can you eat human food without retching?"
Serana's cheeks reddened. "Uhm, sure."
Stesha set to work grilling the meat and seasoning it and before long the three sat down back near the hearth, eating their chicken and vegetables. Stesha slowly chewed his food, ruminating on the fact he was gonna die in a few short months. He already felt weaker and less able. Things were more exhausting than they used to be, even simple tasks felt like an eternity in waiting.
Gwendal got up and walked to the bedrooms of the empty inn. "I'm going to sleep. See you all on the morrow." The dwemer door slammed shut behind him.
Serana snorted. "Who actually still says that; on the morrow."
"I think he's joking," chuckled Stesha but it came out forced and uneven. Then he set his food aside and wiped his nose. "Serana, I uhm, I'm really sorry I hurt you. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I feel horrible about it."
Guilt chewed at his solar plexus in remembrance.
"No, I understand it was a mistake. A deadly one, but still a mistake." Serana smiled. She smelled like white chocolate and rosewater. "I'm sorry I reacted so badly. Let's just start over, do you wanna be friends?"
"Yeah, I'd like that a lot." Stesha shook her hand. Despite her being a vampire, it was warm, and he loved the way it felt against his palm.
Their eyes locked again, dark brown and ice blue mixing like alchemy before they each glanced away. Stesha's heart beat against his chest violently. He tried to think of Seracles behind the eye of his mind to calm himself down.
Stesha switched the subject before the awkwardness could settle in, "about what Peryite said. Seracles being an Imperial. Some sort of liberating saviour or saint. Who could that be, and why is he contacting me?"
"I know someone who does fit that description." Serana rubbed her fangs. "But it wouldn't make any sense not to mention it's impossible."
Stesha shuddered in realization as to who she meant.
Eventually they retreated to their separate rooms to sleep. And in Vaermina's realm, Seracles was lying in wait.
"Oh, so you're on track to discovering who I am all by yourself!" The crow-masked man cheered. "Once you find out though, and you see my side, of why this virus must cleanse all life in Skyrim, you'll join me."
"Why did you create the Vomindok Virus?" Stesha pleaded as the blackness encroached all around them.
"If you join me, I'll tell you." Seracles' crow-beak curved into a grin. "I promise from the bottom of my heart it's for a good reason."
This guy is completely deranged.
"Why are you targeting me?" Stesha asked. "I'm no one special. I'm not a Dragonborn like Charlamagne, or a powerful vampire like Serana. Not a good mage like Gwendal or even a warrior like Hadvar."
"You're not special, true." Seracles cracked his thumb. "But you're special to me."
"Why?" Stesha shook his head in annoyance.
"You'll see." Smiled Seracles.
The next morning, Vex was leading the three of them through the quiet, empty streets of Markarth-Side. Stone-paved with brass doors everywhere. Towering, monumentally magnanimous marvels all around. Dwarven automatons served as the guards, roaming around the ancient city. Understone Keep had three ways leading out of the main foyer with rubble littered on the side. They trailed to a large doorway in the side of the keep which led them to the underground, Dwemer city of Nchuand-Zel. – Small overpasses under dwarven archways connected to various rooms all over a flooded cistern at the bottom. The office of the leaders was under one of the archways, doted with decorations and a desk with a bust of the Gray Fox atop it.
"Fox, these are the new recruits I was telling you about," Vex explained. "Recruits, this is the Gray Fox, the leader of the Crimson Dirks."
The Gray Fox wore a grey cowl over the upper portion of his face. The lower portion was gaunt, tan, and covered by a thick but short beard. A finely groomed black beard with some strands of grey. He wore the same leathers as Vex though his were gray and sleeveless. Stesha could tell this Gray Fox was different from the one the bust was made of, due to the statute lacking facial hair.
"A pleasure to meet you." The Fox bowed. "This is Brynjolf Orval, Mercer Frey, Astrid Volsunga, and Karliah Indoril." He gestured to the other leaders.
Brynjolf made an elaborate bow and kissed Serana's hand. A twinge of annoyance seared through Stesha at Serana's rosy blush.
"Welcome to the Crimson Dirks. I hear you lot have already encountered the Nightingale." Brynjolf rubbed his red beard. He was incredibly handsome, even Stesha had to admit to himself.
"Yes, we have." Gwendal rubbed the back of his head. "Is that what you guys were discussing before we arrived?"
"Yes," Mercer snarled. "Why don't you footpads busy yourself with something else. Vex, get them their armor, and send them on their first missions."
Stesha observed the royal gold linings and dwemer architecture as he progressed into one of the side rooms with the others, passing by a load of mean-mug thieves and killers. Some of them were mixing potions on alchemy tables to the sides while others were firing crossbows or bows into targets far off across the water. Ramparts led down into the flooded sections.
"No thanks," Serana objected when offered brown thieves guild leathers by Vex when they came to the armory. "I'll stick to my own attire."
"Suit yourself." Vex shrugged. "I want you three to approach the Jarl, Madanach Detch, and talk about our secret entrance in Cidhna Mine. We need to secure it as an entrance and possible escape route should we ever be compromised."
"The Jarl knows about the Dirks?" Stesha's brow raised.
"He does, and we have an arrangement. Approach him near the Temple of Dibella, on the sides in the dead of night." Vex crossed her arms beneath her chest.
And so, they were off a few hours later, climbing and falling through Markarth-Side's maze of passages and stairs until at last they arrived to the area indicated by Vex. Madanach lay there in a pool of his own blood, the towering figure of the Nightingale over him. Clothed in forged midnight, tight black leathers, a cape with a hood and facemask.
"I told you not to interfere," his electric voice phrased.
Serana cast powerful ice spike spells at him which caused him to duck and dodge. The Nightingale hopped over the railing and jumped off into the mists below. The sides of the balustrade made of ornate, carved stone with the faces of dwarven golems etched into them.
"Who is he, underneath the mask?" Gwendal asked.
"Him and Seracles both," Stesha added.
"Him, Seracles, and the traitor in my father's court," Serana tripled.
Stesha then remembered his dilemma. "It's not like any of this matters anyway." He remembered Anu and the hope was drained away from him like wine being spilt out of a glass. "People who think they're wise have never suffered. When you realize you'll die one day, the wisdom of this world becomes foolish."
Even the gods can't save me now. His gaze was downcast.
"Are you done being depressed?" Gwendal shook him by the shoulder. "We need to report this."
"Stesha, we're here for you," Serana reminded him as he looked at her.
Even she can't save me now. She's like the stars, easily seen but unreachable.
They walked back as Stesha continued to dwell on his thoughts. Why Anu? Why did you make the world this way? Why couldn't you have made it more like you? He sighed depressingly.
"The Nightingale killed Jarl Madanach?" Nazir Abdullah's eyes popped open. He was a Redguard man in a red turban with a middle-aged look about him.
"This will spell trouble for the entire hold. The Reachmen will think it was one of the Nords in the city," Brynjolf pointed out. "Then the Nords will vie for Igmund to take the throne."
"More news too." Vex stepped into the dwarven enclosure. "The Nightingale broke into our safe and has given half the wealth to the beggars in the warrens. He also killed Veezara and Garthar."
"He is one of us, but who?" Astrid spun a finger through her goldilocks.
"Brynjolf, Vex, Delvin, I want you leading this investigation." The Gray Fox crunched his fingers. "Serana, Gwendal, go and retrieve whatever wealth was distributed amongst the warrens that you can. Stesha, I want you to go with Rune Epimetheus and help him with his quest for his identity. Astrid, keep an eye on Cicero and make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble."
"Who's Rune?" Stesha's head jerked back. "I want to help find out who the Nightingale is."
"Yes, but this is also important," Gray Fox dismissed him.
The trio waltzed off down the lane.
"This seems a little wrong, stealing from the poor," Serana muttered. "Even if it was stolen from us originally."
"You guys just be careful. This Nightingale is one of us and he's trying to kill everyone in the Crimson Dirks." Stesha shivered as a red-haired jester trailed across them.
"Oh, three brave souls! Have you seen Cicero's cape?" The one called 'Cicero' pleaded. "He needs it for dancing and using as his drape!"
"No, we haven't seen your cape." Gwendal shoved him aside as they came upon the exit into the main city greater. "Weirdo."
"See you later, Stesha." Serana gave him a smile that sent butterflies shooting up his throat as she left with Gwendal.
Why do I get these strange feelings around her?
Stesha shook his head and turned around, heading towards the dormitories. – They were a lined chamber with Dwarven bar grates and stone beds lining the length on each side. Several members of the Dirks were there. One of which had a sharp face with long brown hair, green eyes, and a stubble.
"You Rune?" Stesha asked.
The man in question turned around and eyed Stesha with a soft gleam in his emeralds. "Yes, are you the one supposed to help me?"
"Yeah, Stesha. You all don't seem too concerned about the virus." Stesha scratched his arm.
"We've been wearing masks and gloves and shutting down any unnecessary operations," Rune clarified. "Anyways, my issue is I'm trying to find out who I am. You see, I was found on a shipwreck near Solitude as a baby and the only thing on me was a stone with some strange runes on it. I've hired a detective, Athel Newberry, and he wants me to return to the sight of the wreckage and see if I can find anything else. We've pinpointed the crash to a sight called Orphan's Tear. We're going to head there and search the ship for any more clues. You're going to watch my back."
"Sounds good." Stesha stretched his arms to the sides.
Before they knew it, they were at the sight. A wrecked, wooden ship dilapidated and sunken beneath the waters near the snowy shore. Water encroaching onto the beach that was decorated by a camp. Halfingar hold was decorated with frozen forestry and a shoreline that extended for many leagues. The skyline of Atmora gleaming over the ocean. Three bandits were tooling around the campsite laid out there. A campfire near a propped up tent.
"Let me negotiate with them." Rune put a palm to Stesha's chest.
Pink clouds and a bright aurora borealis burst through the sky, aweing Stesha in its splendor. He saw some flying whales and sky-rays swimming through its colors. Waterfalls falling from the clouds into the pink and blue tinted ocean. Giant icebergs with dwemer doors dotting the seascape. Some squids hopping around the bergs.
"If I give you this gold, do you agree to let us pass?" Rune held a small purse of guice towards the marauders.
"Good idea, Yen?" The woman bandit asked.
"Yeah, Fjola." He nodded, snatching the guice from Rune. "You're free to pass."
"Keep an eye on them," Rune whispered to Stesha.
Their feet smushed on the snowy sand as they walked toward the ruined ship.
"Your last name, Epimetheus? That any clue?" Stesha prodded.
"No, it was a name I gave to myself." Rune started unlatching the straps of his armor.
There was a Nord in rags cooking an omelet in a spit near them as Rune stepped into the ruins of the wreckage. Stesha kept his eyes on the younger bandits, approaching the old one.
We live just to die. His shoulders slumped downward.
The old man beckoned to Stesha with a hand. "Take a seat, young man. Join me in my meal." He had long white hair and a majestic beard. "The name's Una Daehdog. I'm not a bandit, I just like to tag along with these youngsters from time to time and see the sea."
Stesha sat down near the man. He had a calming presence and for some reason Stesha felt like he could trust him. "What're you cooking?"
"I'm using this mace here to cook these eggs." He scooped up the eggs and inserted them into a hollowed-out baguette. "But that's not why I called you here. Something tells me you're troubled. It's written all over your face. You're far too young to have such dark circles under your eyes and much too young to be walking around with such a depressed posture."
Stesha leaned back and gazed over the vibrant blue sea as a blue whale was swimming and flipping in the air. He could see it spin, its massive body tumbling in the air as it re-entered the sea, the water parting in its wake. White and blue rippling across. "I just found out something recently and it's irreversible. Not to mention I'm slowly dying," the words came out dead and hollow.
Una paused for a moment before speaking, "to remember you must die is to remember you must live." The old man smiled at him. "Besides, aren't the greatest works of art produced through great tribulation?"
Stesha stared at his palm in thought, dwelling on the words the old man said. When he looked back however, Una was gone. Stesha's brows shot into the black forest that was his hair and he stood up.
"Where did Una go?" Stesha looked around wildly.
"Una?" Fjola stared at him like he was insane.
"Una, the old man. He was just here!" Stesha furrowed his eyebrows.
"There is no old man here, it's just Yen and me," Fjola said.
His thoughts dizzied and he collapsed onto the ground. Am I going crazy? He could hear Sirens singing further down the snowy beach.
A hand rested on his shoulder. It was Rune. "Hey, come on, we got what we came for." He held up a map of some sort. "I'll get this to Athel, and he'll instruct us of the steps to take after that."
Stesha grabbed ahold of Rune's hand and forced himself to stand, coughing blood. "Alright. Let's go."
Before they knew it, they were back inside Nchuand-Zel. Stesha was resting inside the dorm when Serana approached him.
"So, how did things go for you guys?" Stesha coughed and tucked his chin.
Serana sat down beside him against the wall, her knee slighting touching his. The action sent red blush across his face. "About as well as you'd expect. The ones who hadn't spent it simply refused to give up their gold, so we had to force them to comply. How did things go for you?" She enquired.
"It was alright," sighed Stesha. "Met some strange old man who told me some important things but besides that pretty uneventful."
"Oh, what did you learn?" Serana bounced her knee against his and Stesha's voice hitched.
Why is a woman like her even bothering with weakling like me? I have literally nothing to offer her.
Stesha recomposed his composure. He felt dead inside. In fact, now that he thought about it, he'd been dead his whole life. The dragon heart had only revealed it thus far. Serana though… When Stesha was around Serana, it was like life speckled into his gloomy, dead world. Ironic, considering she was undead.
"Serana," Stesha tried to steady his voice. "Thank you for being my friend."
Serana's smooth complexion burst into a grin. Then she wrapped her arms around Stesha's torso and squeezed him in a deep hug and didn't let go. A tear rolled down Stesha's face and down his chin, dripping onto the stone tiling. He slowly put his arms around her shoulders in return. A surge welling up in his heart.
Serana nuzzled into his neck and whispered in his ear, "of course."
**✿❀ ❀✿**
AN: So, heads up. There are no vampire lords in this version. Instead there are two main types of vampires. Tamrielic vampires are the normal vampires you'd see in Skyrim and Atmoran vampires are more powerful vampires who can grow wings out of their backs, fly, and have more powerful magic. Also, after the next chapter the upload rate of these will slow down.
