I took a step toward the Khajiit, his form still and unmoved as his gaze followed my every movement.
"What does that mean?" My voice trembled slightly as I advanced closer. "Who are you?"
But Maiq remained silent.
"Oh my Bal." Amon's scoffing voice startled me, and I turned to face him, irritation prickling at the edges of my patience.
When I looked back, the Khajiit was already gone. "Are you talking to yourself now?" Amon's tone dripped with mockery, laced with a feigned concern that made my skin crawl.
"The Kha—" I stopped myself, biting back the words that would only fuel his ridicule. "Nothing."
"Are you sure?" His voice carried a dangerous hint of mischief, as if he found delight in my unease.
I met his mismatched eyes with a sharp glare. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his armor, exuding a smugness that set my nerves on edge.
"You are awake." I sighed, "That means we can finally go." I brushed past him, our shoulders grazing ever so slightly as I made my way toward the inn.
"Gather your things. We're leaving in ten."
As I packed my belongings and secured the mantle around my shoulders, my mind swirled with thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me. Dragons, an unknown company, and now, hallucinations?
This wasn't the life I envisioned within the Brotherhood.
Maybe choosing one family over another was a grave mistake.
"Let's go." Amon opened the door without so much as a knock, his composed demeanor unsettling me even further.
"Don't you know how to knock?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes as I grabbed my backpack.
"You said ten minutes."
I rolled my eyes, brushing past him once more. Our shoulders touched again, the contact deliberate, though I couldn't tell if it was meant to provoke me or offer some twisted reassurance.
"Ouch!" A child's cry of pain pierced the air, pulling me from my thoughts.
"That's what you get!" A little girl's voice responded, laced with a wicked satisfaction.
I glanced over, noticing the boy doubled over, clutching his crotch in pain—the girl's handiwork, no doubt. A smirk tugged at my lips as I patted her on the back before stepping out of the inn.
The cool evening air carried a weight of anticipation as Amon and I rode side by side, the road beneath us leading to Fort Kastav. The horizon was ablaze with the fading hues of sunset, the deep orange slowly giving way to the creeping darkness.
"So," Amon's voice broke the silence, a curious edge to it. "How does it feel to be an assassin of the Brotherhood?"
"Hollow," I replied, the word slipping from my lips like a sigh, filled with a silent resignation. My eyes remained on the horizon, unwilling to meet his gaze.
"Rather grim, don't you think?" he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement, as if he found pleasure in my discontent.
"More than it should be," I mumbled, straightening in my saddle as I fought to maintain my composure. "But that's what we do."
His silence unsettled me, and the longer it stretched, the more it gnawed at my nerves. "If you are thinking of leaving," My voice cut through the stillness, sharp and accusatory as I turned my gaze on him, a fierce glint in my eyes. "I could dismember you right here."
Amon's lips curved into a silent chuckle, the sound low and mocking. "Like you did last time?"
He was right. If I hadn't underestimated him in our first encounter, perhaps things would have turned out differently. My hand instinctively touched the cloth around my neck, a reminder of that failure, before I forced it back down.
I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply, choosing instead to let the silence stretch between us as we continued southward.
As the watchtowers of the fort came into view, the night had fully embraced its shroud of darkness. The kind of darkness I could easily exploit.
"Amon!" I called out, alarm rising as I noticed him striding purposefully toward the gate of the fort. "What in the Oblivion are you doing?"
"Aren't we here to gather information?" he replied, his tone casual, pulling up his hood as he continued toward the gate, undeterred by the four guards standing watch.
"We can't just walk through the front door!" My hand shot out, grabbing his arm with a firm grip. "This isn't our way!"
He stopped, his eyes gleaming beneath the shadow of his hood as he turned to face me. There was a dangerous amusement in his gaze.
"Oh yeah?" his lips curled into a smirk that sent a shiver down my spine. "And how did you manage to reach a thousand?"
"I don't murder my way in." Each word was deliberate, carrying the weight of my resolve.
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning in just slightly, enough to invade my space. "An assassin who cares about lives and innocence?"
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, the sharp points of his teeth catching the dim moonlight as they glinted. "You are, darling, quite intriguing."
Heat flooded my cheeks despite myself, and I cursed the reaction. "You mean to just barge into a fort full of imperials? These aren't some bandits."
His question came suddenly, his gaze piercing through the night to lock onto mine. "So, those are the people you hunt down? The bad guys?"
"Who goes there?" the silent night was shattered by a man's voice.
"We need to go." My whisper was more a command than a warning. Without hesitation, we moved together, slipping into the shadows toward our steeds. The faint glow of a torch followed us for a while, before it turned back, leaving us to the safety of the dark.
"Stay here." I commanded again, my voice brooking no argument. Amon's brows furrowed in defiance, but before he could protest, I cut him off, my tone swift and unyielding. "I will handle this as I always do, and you will not get in my way."
My gaze locked onto his, fierce with determination, daring him to challenge me.
"I've wasted enough time with your games." I added, my voice laced with finality.
Without waiting for his response, I turned and slipped into the shadows as I always had—alone, and on my own terms.
Climbing the craggy face of the mountain that the fort nestled against, I moved with a predator's grace, each step calculated, every breath measured. The shadows clung to me like a lover, concealing my presence as I ascended. As I reached the lip of the guard tower, I paused, surveying the scene below. The night was thick with the scent of pine and the distant murmur of soldiers.
I leapt onto the tower, landing softly beside two guards, their conversation masking the sound of my approach. The first never saw me coming; my elbow struck with brutal efficiency, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he could even gasp.
The second guard spun around, his mouth opening in a silent scream, but my blade was already at his throat, pressing just enough to stifle the sound. His eyes bulged with terror as he stared into mine, and I could almost taste his fear.
"Where are the commander's quarters?" I demanded, my voice a deadly whisper.
"Please—" he choked out, his breath ragged.
I tightened my grip, the blade biting into his skin. "If you speak another word that isn't giving me directions, I'll end you."
His fear won the battle with his instincts. "B-b-beneath the east tower," he stammered, his voice trembling. "Second floor, the door at the end of the hall."
"Good." My voice softened, a mocking lilt creeping into it as I eased the blade away from his throat. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Relief flickered in his eyes, but it was short-lived. I moved with the swiftness of a serpent, wrapping my arm around his neck and choking him into unconsciousness. As his body sagged, I let him drop to the stone floor, where he would remain until morning—if he was lucky.
With the guards dealt with, I slithered along the bastions of the fort, my movements fluid and soundless. Reaching the second-floor balcony, I peered into the dimly lit hall beyond, where a lone soldier stood vigil outside the commander's quarters.
I stepped inside, drawing the soldier's attention immediately. He eyed me with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, his gaze lingering on the curves of my figure.
"I'm here to see the commander," I stated flatly, all pretense of warmth stripped from my tone.
The soldier's lips twisted into a lecherous grin. "You? At this hour? I thought he liked them younger."
My jaw tightened, but I held my composure, masking the revulsion that simmered beneath my skin. "Are you going to question his orders?"
He snorted, waving me past with a dismissive hand. "Go in, then. Just don't expect him to be gentle."
I pushed open the heavy door and entered the room, my senses immediately assaulted by the scent of oiled leather and burning incense.
The commander stood behind a grand wooden desk, his silhouette framed by the flickering light of a single candle. He was a large man, his presence dominating the space, yet the lines of weariness etched into his face betrayed his true state.
"Ashenblade," he greeted, his voice a deep rumble, tinged with something akin to disdain. "To what do I owe the honor?"
"I'm here for information." I replied, taking deliberate steps closer to his desk. "About dragons."
His body stiffened, a flicker of fear crossing his face. I leaned in, my gaze locking onto his. "Tell me what happened that night."
His breath hitched slightly, the fear in his eyes betraying the bravado he tried to maintain. "We were awakened by a horrific scream," he began, his voice thick with the memory. "The soldiers ran to the towers and saw it—a creature with wings as black as the void."
"Just one?" I pressed, my gaze piercing through his.
His head shook violently. "No. Another rose from the very earth, tearing its way from the ground as if the land itself had birthed it."
"Rose from the earth?" I repeated, incredulity lacing my tone.
"I know it sounds insane, but I swear on the Nine it happened." He swallowed hard, his hand trembling slightly as he recalled the horror of that night. "The first one came from the north, I think. We didn't see it until it was too late, until it was already upon us."
"And after that?" I prompted, sensing the depth of his terror. "Did they attack you?"
"No." he admitted, the word almost a sigh of relief. "They ignored us completely, as if we were nothing."
I straightened, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. "Thank you, Commander." I said, pulling back from the desk, my voice laced with false gratitude.
He smiled, a weary, bitter smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't thank me. This information is worthless. We're all doomed, no matter what Astrid does with it."
I turned to leave but hesitated, a dark thought creeping into my mind. "One more thing, Commander," I said softly, my voice dropping to a whisper as I asked, leaning in towards him.
"How young were they?"
His face blanched, confusion and horror swirling in his eyes. "Who? What are you-"
My blade flashed in the dim light as it sliced across his throat. The words he might have spoken died on his lips, replaced by the gurgling choke of blood.
The crimson stain spread across the desk, a stark contrast against the polished wood. I watched as his life ebbed away, his eyes wide with the realization of his fate. As he slumped forward, I rifled through the drawers, finding a sealed parchment that might hold something useful. I tucked it into my belt and turned to leave, my steps unhurried. As I reached the door, it burst open, the guard from earlier barging in with his sword drawn, his face a mask of panic.
"By Ysmir!" his eyes scanned the room, "Commander!" he gasped, his eyes darting between me and the bloodied corpse slumped over the desk.
"You little…" His voice was a strangled mix of horror and fury as he raised his sword. I met his charge head-on, my movements a blur of deadly precision.
He swung wildly, his form sloppy and unbalanced. I sidestepped his first strike, then ducked under the second, my body moving with fluid grace.
With a swift movement, I planted my back against his, using his own momentum to pull him off balance. As he staggered forward, I drove my blade into the nape of his neck, severing the spine with a sickening crunch.
His body went limp, collapsing at my feet in a graceless heap. I wiped the blood from my blade, my breath steady as I surveyed the scene.
"Oh, right," Amon's voice drawled from the shadows behind me, dripping with sarcasm. "This is not our way."
To be continued…