Chapter 19 – Sarcasm and Revelations

Aventus burst into the market square after a frantic run through the streets of Riften, with Babette close behind, her exasperation plain on her face. She grabbed her apprentice's shoulder, exclaiming, "What part of 'Let's find shelter' don't you understand?"

But the young Imperial wasn't listening. He froze, his eyes wide with horror at the scene unfolding before him. The ice dragon, massive and formidable, loomed over the square, its wings spread wide, darkening the already clouded sky. Lydia was charging toward the creature, screaming in fury, sword drawn, soon followed by the city's guards. All around, shards of sharp ice littered the ground, remnants of the deadly attack the monster had unleashed. And there, amidst the debris and chaos, Hunfen lay motionless, covered in frost, his face bloodied.

A cry of terror escaped Aventus's throat. Hunfen, his friend, who always appeared at the most critical moments, was now at the mercy of this beast. Without thinking, he rushed toward him, ignoring the imminent danger the creature still posed.

"Hunfen! No!" he screamed, dropping to his knees beside the small, frostbitten body.

Babette strolled over calmly, her youthful face poorly concealing her amusement. She stopped a few steps away from Aventus, observing the scene with a mocking smile.

"You're too late, my young apprentice," she declared, crossing her arms and adopting a mockingly somber expression. "Your friend has just turned into a lovely ice statue. The little boy became a big icecube!"

Aventus looked up at her with desperate eyes, pleading. "Babette, please… Help him. He's dying!"

Babette shrugged, her expression thoughtful, exaggeratedly indecisive. "Hmm… Help him? Why? He was asking for it, don't you think? After all, charging at a dragon barehanded, maybe he wanted to visit Sovngarde?"

Aventus felt a surge of anger mixed with terror. "I beg you, Babette!" he cried. "He's my friend!"

Babette sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes as if reluctantly giving in. "Oh, fine, fine!" She finally knelt beside Hunfen, her disdain not wavering for a moment. "But let's be clear, I'm only doing this because I'm feeling generous today. Don't expect me to help the next time a hothead gets iced."

With disconcerting speed, Babette pulled a leather pouch from her belt and extracted several glass vials filled with brightly colored liquids. She examined them for a moment before selecting one. Aventus, his heart pounding, held his breath, ignoring the din of the nearby battle.

"Let's see…," murmured the assassin as she uncorked the potion, releasing a pungent, acrid scent. "This idiot is lucky to be a Nord. Their natural resistance to cold is absurd. Don't worry, I'll fix this. At least, I'll try…"

She carefully poured the potion over the boy's wounds, the liquid seeping into the injuries with alarming speed. Babette muttered a few incomprehensible words, a faint smile playing on her lips as she worked.

"Your friend isn't the brightest candle in the chandelier, is he?" she continued, casting a sidelong glance at Aventus. "Charging at a dragon like that… How stupid can one be? With a bit of luck, this will teach him some caution… If he survives, that is." She gently patted the boy's cheek, as if scolding him for a childish mistake. "Come on, little fool, you're not done living yet!"

Aventus watched the scene, torn between hope and fear. A guard flew over them and crashed into a building, but he paid no attention; Hunfen still seemed unconscious, but to his immense relief, color was slowly returning to his pale face. His eyelids fluttered, and his lips began to move, but Babette quickly shoved another potion into his mouth.

"Oh no, you're not going to start talking now," she protested in a voice as sweet as it was sarcastic. "Shut up and sleep! Save your whining for someone else."

Hunfen barely had time to moan before his eyelids closed again, the potion plunging him into a deep sleep. Babette stood up, nonchalantly brushing off her robe. She glanced at the battle, where Lydia was relentlessly striking the dragon's skull, punctuating each sword blow with a primal scream, then turned her mischievous gaze back to her apprentice, who stared at her with a mix of disbelief and relief.

"There, she said with a smile, he's out of danger. For now, anyway. I won't be able to do anything if he has another bright idea, like fighting a mammoth with a wooden spoon!"

Aventus, still trembling from the fear he had felt seeing his friend so close to death, lowered his eyes, torn between gratitude and indignation. "Thank you… Babette," he finally forced out, reluctantly.

She gave him a mocking look. "Oh, don't thank me too quickly! After all, it's because of you that we ended up here, isn't it? Maybe if you hadn't 'lingered' in Ivarstead…" She gestured vaguely toward the nearby battlefield, where the guards were shouting triumphantly around the dragon lying dead on the ground. "…neither you nor your friend would have witnessed this mess."

Aventus clenched his fists, scandalized by the injustice of Babette's reasoning, though he couldn't deny there was some truth in it. This whole situation, from the journey to Riften to the incident with the dragon, might not have happened if he had made different choices. But it was too late to go back.

An ethereal flow, which had erupted from the dead dragon, poured into Hunfen. The phenomenon, barely visible to ordinary mortals, did not escape Babette's keen eyes. "Well, well…," she murmured, almost admiringly, turning her gaze to the dragon's body, which was finishing its combustion. "Fate really does have a twisted sense of humor!" She shook her head, amused by the situation.

Her attention was diverted by the sound of hurried footsteps. Lydia was rushing toward them, her eyes blazing with anger and exhaustion, her armor stained with dragon blood. Seeing Babette crouched over Hunfen, she leaped to their side, suspicion and concern etched on her face.

"Who are you?" she demanded sharply, her hand on the hilt of her sword. "What are you doing to that boy?"

Babette looked up, smiling with a feigned innocence that fooled no one. "Me? I'm Aventus's little big sister!" she replied, miming quotation marks with her fingers.

Lydia, exhausted but still on alert, kept her hand on her sword's hilt, ready to draw at the slightest sign of threat. She scrutinized Babette with heightened attention, weighing each word carefully. "Aventus's sister, huh?" she repeated, her tone laced with suspicion. "And what does your family want with Hunfen?"

Babette gave a sly smile, her voice tinged with her usual irony. "Oh, don't worry, noble warrior. I just saved your little protégé's life, but only because Aventus begged me!" she clarified, a mocking gleam in her eye. "It's not in my habit to hand out acts of kindness, but let's say it's his lucky day."

Lydia didn't lower her guard, but a sigh of relief escaped her lips. She glanced at Hunfen, still unconscious, but whose face had regained some color and whose breathing had become steady. She knelt to lift him in her arms, her expression softening as she watched her young charge. "I'll take him back to Honorhall so he can rest. He needs care and safety."

Babette nodded nonchalantly, shrugging. "Go ahead! It doesn't concern me anymore, and I have my own business to settle with Aventus."

Lydia cast a glance at the Imperial boy, who seemed torn between guilt and fear of returning to the Dark Brotherhood. "Don't worry about him," Babette smiled. "I always take good care of my apprentices!"

The vampire stepped closer and ensured Hunfen was still unconscious before letting a sarcastic murmur escape her lips: "By the way… Don't be surprised if you don't see Narfi in Whiterun. I personally corrected my young apprentice's most unfortunate initiative." She glanced at Aventus, whose face turned pale. "Let's just say Narfi took another route. Aventus only got off with a good scolding this time."

Lydia felt a wave of disgust wash over her, but she didn't respond. Without another word, she turned on her heel, carrying Hunfen away. Babette, meanwhile, grabbed Aventus by the arm, pulling him in the opposite direction, an enigmatic smile still lingering on her lips.

oOo

Babette walked briskly through the streets of Riften, her small hand firmly gripping Aventus's arm. Their footsteps echoed on the cobblestones, reverberating between the buildings marked by the dragon's fury. A few inhabitants, still in shock, timidly emerged from their shelters, casting horrified looks at the debris scattered here and there. Despite the apparent urgency, a cruel glint of amusement shone in Babette's childlike eyes. Aventus, on the other hand, clenched his fists. The recent events haunted him, and an insidious tension grew within him with each step.

Suddenly, he stopped short, his muscles tensing. A familiar voice had just called out to him:

"Hey, Aventus! Is that you?"

Aventus turned, finding François Beaufort and Hroar, their faces lit up with wide smiles. Out of breath but delighted, the two boys must have snuck out of the orphanage, as they often did, probably taking advantage of the chaos still reigning in the city. Aventus's tight smile betrayed his unease. He had always enjoyed the company of his friends at the orphanage, and their unexpected appearance warmed his heart. But Babette's presence by his side cooled his enthusiasm. The Dark Brotherhood was dangerously close to those he considered his friends.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, trying to mask his agitation with a light tone.

François shrugged, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "We wanted to see the dragon! But Constance locked us in the cellar!" He paused, frowning, his lips twisting into a pout. "We didn't see anything at all! Just the noise… Was it really an ice dragon?"

Aventus nodded, his gaze briefly shifting to Babette, who rolled her eyes with exaggerated drama.

"You guys missed quite the spectacle," he said, trying to adopt a casual tone, but a shadow crossed his eyes at the mention of the creature. "It was an ice dragon, yes. A terrible monster. It almost…" Aventus paused, feeling a lump form in his throat. "It almost killed Hunfen."

Hroar, who had been listening intently, opened his eyes wide in disbelief. "Hunfen? He's here? So he found you, after all? Is he back too?"

Aventus nodded. "Yes, he wanted to fight the dragon, but he got badly hurt. I think they took him back to the orphanage to rest. You'll probably see him when you go back."

François and Hroar's faces darkened for a moment as they slowly processed the information. But soon, their expressions were tinged with childish curiosity, always eager to discover more, to understand the mysteries of the adult world.

François stepped closer, casting a wary glance around before leaning in toward Aventus. "You look like you're doing okay," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Who's that girl?"

Aventus shot a quick glance at Babette, who gave him an enigmatic smile. "I… I got adopted. Babette is my new sister. But, listen… don't tell anyone at the orphanage that I came back to Riften, okay?"

Hroar shook his head vehemently, while François glanced sideways at Babette, skeptical but intrigued. "We won't say anything, don't worry," he promised.

François and Hroar exchanged a conspiratorial look, as if they had shared an unspeakable secret, before François leaned even closer to Aventus, this time even lower. "We have something to tell you."

Aventus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What is it?"

François glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then whispered almost theatrically: "Mr. Brynjolf is training us!"

Aventus almost burst out laughing at the barely contained excitement of his friends. "Training you? For what exactly?"

"For everything!" Hroar exclaimed, unable to contain his enthusiasm. "How to sneak around without being seen, how to pick locks, and even how to pickpocket without getting caught!"

Aventus looked at them, both amused and perplexed. From what he knew, Brynjolf dabbled in all sorts of shady dealings. Was he trying to recruit his friends for his schemes? He sighed inwardly; it wouldn't be any worse than what he himself was doing now. "And are you guys any good?" he asked.

François nodded proudly. "We're starting to get the hang of it! But you won't believe what we did!"

Aventus, his curiosity piqued, gestured for them to continue. "Tell me."

Hroar took a deep breath before speaking quickly. "We followed Mr. Brynjolf to practice, and he didn't even see us! He went to a hidden corner of the Bee and Barb. He had a meeting with Maven Black-Briar. We heard everything!"

Aventus's eyes widened. Maven Black-Briar? She was the woman with the biggest house in town after the Jarl's palace. She was the wealthiest person in all of Riften and had a reputation for having her hand in every business in the city. And from what little he understood, she wasn't liked by many.

"What did she say?" he asked, his palms growing sweaty with a tension he hadn't anticipated.

François and Hroar exchanged a conspiratorial glance before François continued, his voice lower than before. "She was furious. Because of Grelod's death. Apparently, Grelod was her friend, and she put her in charge of the orphanage on purpose! She said that with Grelod, there were plenty of resourceful kids at the orphanage for the Thieves Guild to recruit!"

Aventus felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Grelod… a friend of Maven Black-Briar? The idea was disgusting, but it explained a lot. Grelod's cruel methods weren't just gratuitous malice. They were part of a far more sinister plan. And his friends… didn't they see that they were just pawns in this plan?

"So, that's you guys, the resourceful ones," he remarked more harshly than he intended. "And you're still going to follow Brynjolf?"

"Is… Is that true?" Hroar murmured, his eyes shining with excitement. "Do you think Mr. Brynjolf will really get us into the Guild?"

Aventus let out a frustrated sigh but decided not to push the matter further. "And did they say anything else?" he murmured, almost dreading the answer.

Hroar leaned in even closer, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and horror. "Yeah… Something weird… Mr. Brynjolf said that with Grelod, there were kids too violent for the Thieves Guild, but she said it didn't matter because they could be useful for another friend of hers, Astrid, I think. But we don't know who that is."

Aventus froze. The name Astrid hit him like a punch in the gut. Rage surged through him, boiling like lava. Grelod, Maven, Astrid… He too was just a pawn in their schemes after all. But before he could react, Babette, who had been quietly letting the boys talk, gently placed her hand on Aventus's shoulder and squeezed. Her eyes, though gentle in appearance, carried a warning gleam.

"We've lingered long enough, my dear brother," she said in a honeyed but firm tone. "It's time to go home, or mother will be worried."

Aventus immediately understood the message. Clenching his teeth, he nodded, his mind still racing, but aware of the need to end the conversation. He turned to François and Hroar, giving them a melancholic smile.

"Listen… I have to go. Thanks for telling me all of this. Take care of Hunfen, okay? I owe him one!"

François seemed about to protest, but Aventus extended his hand, signaling that it was time to part ways. The blonde boy reluctantly shook it. "We'll see you soon, man. And don't worry… we won't tell anyone you were here."

As the two friends turned away, chattering animatedly about what they would tell Hunfen, Aventus clenched his fists, struggling against the urge to scream. The revelation about Maven Black-Briar gnawed at him inside. He was furious, at her, at Astrid, at himself for being so easily deceived. He couldn't help but cast one last glance back at his friends, who were running off, also caught in the gears. Finally, he followed Babette's lead, leaving the city behind. The alleys of Riften closed in around them, swallowing the last traces of Aventus's childhood.

oOo

The cart rattled slightly as it rolled along the road toward Ivarstead. Aventus had remained silent throughout the journey, his mind absorbed by his friends' revelation and the anger that simmered within him. When, at Babette's request, the cart stopped to drop them off a few hundred meters before Ivarstead's entrance, he jumped to the ground and took a few steps, his fists clenched. Babette watched him, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. The cart resumed its journey and disappeared around a bend in the forest road.

Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, Aventus exploded. "I'll kill her!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the cool evening air, filled with hatred. "I'm going to kill Astrid!"

Babette, still as unflappable as ever, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, a cruel amusement shining in her eyes. "Oh, that's adorable," she said mockingly. "But before that, be a dear and pick me some snowberries, okay? I love snacking on them while watching a child get slaughtered." She paused, her eyes locking onto Aventus's. "Because if you face Astrid now, that's all that will happen to you: a nice show and a little snack for me."

Aventus stood frozen, his breathing heavy, as the harsh truth of Babette's words sank in. He wasn't ready. Not yet. But one day… Oh, one day, he would kill her. He would kill Astrid and everyone who had played him for a fool. But for now, he had to wait, prepare, and grow stronger.