» Wed Jun 29, 2011 3:47 pm Note: "The Emperor's Return" takes place after the events of "TES IV:Oblivion" but excludes any information contained in the novel The Infernal City or the game "TES V:Skyrim" except for where I see fit.
One by one the Nine Divines entered the room, their feet making soft thuds against the crystalline floor which reflected the golden light spilling through the stained glass windows. Then seven of the Divines went to take a place at the sapphire chairs on each side of a large diamond table while Akatosh and Mara lowered themselves into two seats made of ruby and emerald at the end. All faces were turned toward Akatosh in expressions of rapt attention. It was not too often that he used this room of the Shining Fortress.
"As all of you very well know, Tamriel no longer has an Emperor. This is a severe problem, for without a ruler to hold it in place the Empire that Talos labored so hard to achieve will fall into ruins. The Elder Council, although possessing great wisdom, is no substitute for an emperor. This leaves us to two options that I have been struggling with," Akatosh stated, seriousness apparent in his brown eyes.
"What are they?" asked Julianos, raising an eyebrow.
"Either we send Martin Septim back to Nirn continue that most esteemed bloodline or we let another man stake his claim as Emperor."
The Divines immediately broke into conversation. Akatosh held up a hand, causing silence to fall over the table.
"One at at time, please," he stated.
"People are born and they die. That is the way things have always been. Why should we interfere with the natural order of things?" Arkay questioned.
"I agree with Arkay. Martin should not be sent back. After the Oblivion Crisis he deserves to reside here in Aetherius in peace," Dibella stated.
"Aye, but have you not seen his expression as he wanders about? Many a time I have seen hints of sorrow cross his features, though he tries his best to appear content," Julianos countered. "I suspect that he regrets that he really did not have a chance to rule the Empire due to the Crisis. He deserves to be given a second chance to reign. Besides, to let the Septim bloodline die would indeed be a grievous shame."
"Perhaps Julianos is right. What peace is there for Martin if his heart is mourning what he has lost? His memories of his life may slowly fade the longer he stays here, but Martin has only been in Aetherius a week. The memory of what he had to give up is still fresh in his mind. It does seem somehwat ironic and cruel for Aetherius to be a place of unrest for Martin," Stendarr replied.
"Ah, but giving a new man a chance at reigning the Empire could bring about many beneficial changes for the Empire. He might have new ideas that the Septims never thought of. Who knows what he could accomplish?" Kynareth put forth.
"Do not rule out the possibility that Martin could also bring about great changes. He may have had plans for the Empire that did not have a chance to be carried out due to his death," Mara cautioned.
"What if a new Emperor's plans would help the Empire more?" Zenithar asked.
"What if they would not?" Akatosh inquired.
Thus the debate continued, each god or godess bringing up differing points on why Martin should or should not be returned. They viewed the situation from different angles, trying to find the flaws and strengths of each one. The deliberation continued for quite some time until at last they decided that majority would rule. Akatosh asked for the gods that thought Martin should be returned to Nirn to raise their hand. Akatosh, Mara, Julianos, Stendarr, and Talos did so while the others did not. It was decided: the Septim bloodline would continue. There were still some things to work out, though.
"What if the Elder Council does not believe that he is who he says he is?" contemplated Talos. "Surely they will think they are seeing things when they lay eyes on Martin."
"Although the Dragonfires are no longer needed to protect Tamriel from Oblivion, a new Amulet of Kings will be made to prove that he is indeed of the Septim bloodline and to contain his soul for his successors," Akatosh declared. "However, the Dragonfires that would require the Emperor of Tamriel's soul to be enshrined within the Amulet are no longer needed. Thus a special horn will be crafted to accomplish this. Martin and his descendants will blow the horn to symbolize the bond between the Septims and I, causing his soul to be placed within the Second Amulet of Kings. The other function of the horn will be to show that Martin is real and he will show this horn to the Elder Council as proof that we did indeed return him.
"Kynareth and Zenithar will craft the second Amulet of Kings along with the horn while Mara and I craft the body. Finally, Stendarr, Julianos, and Dibella will tell Martin about our decision. Now, on the subject of the Red Diamond which Talos will have the task of retrieving. The world of Nirn only thinks that there was only one in existence. Unbeknowest to them there had been seven soul gems besides the one in the Amulet of Kings, but six of those had been destroyed in the wars the Ayleids waged amongst themselves. However, one tribe of Ayleids had saved another that was stolen by a sorcerer named Coawae, who was one of their own. He ran into the Great Forest, trying to think of a hiding place for his treasure since he could hear his former friends crashing through the forest not too far behind. Rather than have them take the Diamond back fron him, he decided that no one would have it. He magically opened up a hole in an ancient tree, stashing the Diamond within. As he closed the bark up over the hole he placed a spell on it with words he thought would never come true:
No Ayleid king shall break this seal
With deadly weapon or with magic fell
The bark shall only lift and peel
For a man born after the slaves rebel
Who finds Valkyrja; this I do tell
"You see, this particular lock spell Coawae used demanded an 'anchor' to keep it shut. Coawae chose his dagger Valkyrja. He quickly opened a deep hole in the ground with his magic, threw Valkyrja into it, and covered it back up. Just then his pursuers caught up with him, two of them grabbing the sorcerer. They demanded Coawae to tell them where he had hidden the Diamond. Coawae just laughed. One of the Ayleids, Uawl, hit him in the jaw and once more demanded that Coawae tell him where the Red Diamond was hidden. Coawae pointed to the tree in which it was stashed, but said Uawl would never be able to get the treasure. Uawl growled and fired a spell at the tree which was extinguished on contact. Then he tried hacking at the wood, but that did not do anything. Finally, frustrated that he had failed in his mission, he hacked off Coawae's head.
After he reported what had happened, Uawl and all of his companions were beheaded as well. The warlord, Shluon, ordered for a more competent warrior or sorcerer to find some way to open the accursed tree. Many of his tribe tried and failed. Eventually, Shluon gave up, although he ordered all of Coawae's family killed in retaliation. By the time Alessia rebelled Shluon was long dead and the stolen Red Diamond forgotten."
"An interesting story indeed." Julianos commented.
"Then let us go," stated Akatosh.
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All around Martin was a sea of blue, stretching forever as far as he could see. Souls milled about around him, some talking to each other, some looking around them lost in thought. He wondered what were going through the souls' minds and felt his own memories coming back to him. He recalled his life before he found out he was the son of Uriel Septim VII. Helping his adopted father tend the farm and sheep, assisting his adopted mother around the house, and, when he reached his teens, joining the priesthood. Then he rembered the attack on Kvatch and the pain, terror, and anger he felt at having his home destroyed. He rembered when a brave warrior came and ventured into Olbivion itself to shut the accursed gate. Martin remembered the ebony-clad hero ride into the refugee camp and stop in front of him. When the warrior was revealed to be a Nord woman he recalled his heart fluttering faintly.
He recalled the time she had shown him the Mysterium Xarxes and how he felt a bolt of fear for Bodil rush through him at that moment, but also admiration at her risking herself in order to retrieve it. When the Great Gate had opened and Bodil went through, he had thought he might never see her again. All throughout the battle, he kept thinking of her being crushed by the siege engine or slaughtered by a vicious daedra. What relief he had felt when she came back out of the Gate unharmed! Yet, there had also been sorrow, for she had come out of Oblivion only to go into Camoran's wretched Paradise. It had bothered him immensely to just sit there and wait, and have his imagination flood him with horrific scenarios of her death once more.
Martin felt sorrow rise in his heart when he thought of how Mehrunes Dagon had appeared in the Imperial City and how he had had to make an immense sacrifice. He recalled that throughout that journey he had the felt that flutter grow steadier and steadier until it seemed like the wings of a dragon in flight. He finally realized the truth: he was in love with Bodil. He remembered how much she loved the Empire, promising to serve it no matter what the cost. She showed loyalty to him. All of the Empire did. But without an Emperor it would collapse. He knew another man could proclaim himself Emperor, but the Septims had reigned for hundreds of years. Who knew what changes someone not of that lineage, who was not intimate with the Empire or its subjects, would make?
"A great sadness seems to weight heavily on you, Martin Septim," a voice said. Martin turned around, the white garment he wore moving with him. Before him stood Stendarr, Julianos, and Dibella. The gods' eyes displayed kindness and Martin felt comfortable in their gaze.
"Would you like to tell us of it?" Dibella asked.
"I was thinking about my life. Strange that all your life you think you are one person and then you find out that you are another. When I was told I was the son of Uriel Septim I was surprised out of my mind, but I knew I would do my best to help the Empire. I couldn't have done it without Bodil, though. She was the woman who helped me throughout my journey to save Cyrodil. She put her life in danger in order to bring down the Mythic Dawn and Mankar Camoran without a second thought. I thought of her as a true friend, and now I realize that my feelings for her go beyond that of camaraderie. I wish to tell her of my affections and also long to help the Empire. I fear now that the Septim dynasty is dead someone without any true understanding of the Empire and the people who are part of it will proclaim himself Emperor. Alas, those desires are futile. It is impossible to return to Nirn in my previous form, " Martin explained.
"Ah, then you are fortunate. Akatosh called a meeting and it was decided that you will once more reign as Emperor," Julianos said.
"But...but I no longer have a body," Martin stated, thoroughly shocked, his head reeling from what he just heard. "And how on Nirn are people going to know it is me and not some imposter?"
"A new body and a Second Amulet of Kings will be made for you," Stendarr replied.
"This...this is incredible," Martin gasped.
The gods smiled.
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Kuror moved stealthily through the Great Forest, looking for a deer to shoot. He was hungry and needed food badly. He could only steal so much in one area before getting caught, and the inhabitants of Chorrol were probably on the lookout for him. He grinned when a buck stepped timidly into a line of fire. He would have a full stomach tonight. Kuror was about to release his arrow when the sound of footsteps startled the deer, causing it to bound off into the distance. The Bosmer scowled, but he was comorted in the fact that perhaps the traveler had something of worth on him that he could steal and moved behind a tree.
Kuror watched as a man wearing a blue cloak stepped in front of a large oak and raised a hand above the ground. Dirt flew out of the hole and landed in a mound next to it. The man then repeated the action over the opening, causing a dagger to fly into his hand. He walked over to a large rock and broke the weapon in it, causing the bark of a nearby tree to slide up and reveal...a huge gem of some sort! The stranger then took the treasure out, the bark covering up the hole more, and went off in the direction he came from. Kuror stealthily crept upon his target, hoping he would be successful. After a few moments of following the stranger he leaped out of the brush, hoping to tackle his target and wrest the gem from his hands. He did not expect a boot to plow into his stomach, causing him to hit the ground with a large thud. Kuror barely had time to blink before a sword was pointed at his throat.
"Why did you try to rob me?"
"I...I...," he stammered.
"Tell me and I will let you go."
"Because...because I need the money, I suppose. I am not guaranteed to hit a deer every time I go hunting," he answered, feeling quite bewildered by the fact that he was having a converstation with a previously intended victim. His heart pounded against his chest from feeling the cold steel of the sword against his skin. The man stared at Kuror for a few minutes before sheathing his sword.
"There is no honor in stealing," the stranger said.
"I have to steal. Otherwise I would starve. I am not exactly the richest mer, you know," Kuror replied as he got up.
The man grabbed a pouch of gold from his belt and handed it to Kuror. "However, there is honor in giving. Give and you shall be rewarded with something greater than gold." Kuror looked at the item he held, bouncing the pouch up and down in his hand. This was certainly turning out to be one weird afternoon. Why would someone give money to someone who tried to rob them? He shook his head and turned around to thank the man. But he was gone.
He stared at the gold once more, contemplating the stranger's act.
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A burst of flame shot from Kynareth's hands into the diamond furnace, the fire burning despite there being no fuel. Then she and Zenithar began the lengthy process of forging the second Amulet of Kings. The precious gold was melted by the intense flames of the roaring fire and alternately pounded and thrust back into the furnace by Zenithar, Kynareth cooling the metal when required and inserting the gems when the time was right. Long and hard they worked to make the diamond-shaped clasp, their concentration never slipping. Finally, they inserted the precious Red Diamond into the clasp and made sure it fit snugly. Zenithar then finished the job, placing the finished Amulet carefully on a cloth-covered table. Then the two began crafting the Dragon Horn. A roaring dragon was placed sideways on top of the instrument, its two ruby eyes glittering with a noble fierceness. The sides of the horn were carved with intertwining patterns consisting of knotwork and Aedric runes, only interrupted by two ruby hourglasses on each side. For the last step, the tip was molded so that a mouth could easily blow a clear, sonorous note.
"Here's to a job well done," Zenithar commented once it was complete, wiping his brow and smiling at Kynareth.
Meanwhile, Akatosh and Mara were putting all their effort into making Martin's new body. Akatosh carefully constructed the skeleton. He carved each bone to the exact proportions that Martin's old form had, then attached it in the proper place. Next, he placed the organs inside of it. After that his wife wove strong threads of muscle and laid them over the skeleton bit by bit. Finally, the skin, hair, and nails were placed on the body before Mara covered it with deep purple robes. The somewhat weary Akatosh looked it up and down and gave a nod.
"I think we did a nice job. Don't you think so, love?"
"Yes, husband. Now all that is left is for Martin to enter it," Mara stated, smiling.
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When Martin stepped into his new body two Nirn days after he was told of the gods' decision it felt like he was wearing a piece of clothing at first, but a second later he was quite comfortable in it. He flexed his fingers, finding that worked just as his old ones had. The man looked around him at the gods standing in the crystal room.
"Thank you all so much for this. I can never repay you."
"It is payment enough that Tamriel will once again have an Emperor," Akatosh commented as he nodded at Zenithar. The merchant god placed the new Amulet of Kings around Martin's neck. "Now, there is something I must adress. The old Amulet of Kings did not contain your soul since the Dragonfires were never lit. However, even though they are unnecessary because of your sacrifice your soul still needs to be enshrined within the new Amulet of Kings. Therefore I had Kynerath and Zenithar craft a hunting horn to accomplish this. You only have to blow the horn. Since the Temple of the One would take a large amount of time to rebuild, and because of the fact that your soul needs to be enshrined as soon as possible, I will allow you to blow the horn here in the Shining Fortress. The horn's cry will not only enshrine your soul, but from this moment onward it will let all of Tamriel know that the gods did not let the Septim dynasty fall."
Kynarteh stepped forward and held out the Dragon Horn. Martin took the item from Kynareth and admired the beautiful craftsmanship of it before lifing it up to his lips and blowing on it. A note that sounded like a dragon's roar mixed with rain resounded off of the walls. Immediately Martin felt a slight shiver and saw the Amulet of Kings glow for a second before dimming.
"Now it is time for you to return home, Martin Septim. Farwell," Akatosh stated, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
Martin felt his surroundings grow fainter and fainter until he felt like he was made up of nothing but air and he could not recognize what was around him. A minute later Martin felt himself grow more solid and dim images began to appear before his eyes. He thought he felt something under his feet and when he looked down he saw a marbled floor. Gazing about the room he recognized it as the Council Chamber in the Imperial Palace. A jolt of fear went through him as he remembered that this was the very place he had been moments before the Ocato, the guardsmen, Bodil, Coleridge, and he had gone out to battle the daedra only to have Mehrunes Dagon appear. Martin shook his head to clear out the image. No need to think about that now. Such thoughts would only hinder him.
He turned around when he heard a door creak open and saw an extremely shocked Chancellor Ocato. The Altmer battlemage was as pale as the marble of the room. He stood there dumbstruck for a minute before making an attempt to speak. At first Ocato could only get a few syllables out of his mouth, but he eventually gained some of his composure.
"By the Nine, I must be dreaming! I came over here to have a quiet place to sort out my thoughts, but I never intended to think this hard! Oh, I must be more stressed than I first suspected," he told himself, leaning against the closed doors and putting a hand to his head.
"Chancellor Ocato, it really is me," Martin explained, staying where he was so as not to frighten the Chancellor any more. Ocato straightened himself with some difficulty and tentatively walked towards Martin, stopping a few feet from him. He eyed him, trying to confirm that the man standing before him was real and not a hallucination. Then his eyes landed on the golden horn and the strange runes inscribed on it.
"May I see that horn?" Ocato asked. Martin handed it to him. As the Altmer ran his fingers over it he studied the object. Never in his life had he seen such anything like this. He had read many texts but he had never come across the characters on the horn. They did not look like any writing he had ever seen before and appeared to glow with an inner light all its own. Then Ocato studied the roaring dragon on the horn and it seemed that the figure held his gaze like Akatosh himself. A chill ran down his spine and he fell down on his knees.
"Emperor, please forgive me! It just seemed impossible that you would actually be standing in front of me right now! How...how in Tamriel did you come back?"
"Come. I will sit down and tell you," Martin said, helping Ocato up.
The two each pulled up a chair before Martin began to tell the Chancellor what had transpired.
The Altmer's eyes widened with each sentence Martin spoke. He shook his head back and forth slowly.
"Amazing. It's simply mind-blowing that all of that would happen," Ocato stated. "I must gather the Elder Council here at once."
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Tjous growled under his breath as he heard a knock on the door of his house in the Temple District of the Imperial City. Ocato was getting more frequent in his meetings, which of course meant less sleep for the Bosmer. He forced himself out of his comfortable bed, pulled a loose robe over his sleeping clothes, and opened the door to see an Imperial guard.
"Councilor Tjous, Chancellor Ocato has summoned you to the Imperial Palace. I am to escort you there immediately."
"Not even going to give me a chance to change into more proper attire, are you?" Tjous remarked.
"I am sorry, sir, but the Chancellor said this was urgent."
"Very well," the man replied, stepping out of his house and locking the door behind him. "Lead on."
The guard led him through the quiet streets and into the Imperial Palace, stopping before the Council Chambers. Tjous entered and found his fellow councilors already seated at the table. He then took a seat himself. Ocato gazed across the table and made sure everyone was there before clearing his throat.
"I know I did not give you much time to prepare but I have urgent news. What I am about to say may shock you, but please bear with me. Martin Septim has returned."
Tjous thought Ocato had called one meeting too many, but kept his mouth shut. Upsetting the Chancellor was never good. However, the person next to him could not restrain herself.
"What in sweet Tamriel are you talking about, Chancellor? Martin Septim is dead!" exclaimed Uara Emerald-Tail.
"He was dead, but due to the will of the gods he is back with us," Ocato stated while making a gesture with his hand. Tjous had to clench the table to keep himself from falling out of his seat as he saw the person in question step out from behind a pillar wearing the Amulet of Kings.
"This is impossible," Uara whimpered. "His body and the Amulet of Kings were destroyed. We must be seeing things!"
"Akatosh and the other gods made me a new body. They also made me a new Amulet to prove that I am of Septim blood, though the Dragonfires are no longer needed," Martin stated.
"Here is proof if you still doubt," Ocato said, holding up the Dragon Horn. "Look at this object and tell me if you truly think a mortal could have crafted it. This horn is indeed of divine origin. Thus, it proves that the Nine Divines returned the Emperor to us."
"I can barely believe it," Tjous whispered.
"How are we ever going to explain this to everyone else?" Zare gro-Grual queried, worry apparent on his face.
"First of all, we hold a conference at the Arena tomorrow to explain Martin's return to the Imperial City. The Counts and Countesses of Cyrodil will be told of what has transpired via letters. They will, in turn, inform their own subjects. As for the other provinces, we deliver similar missives to thier rulers. However, these messages will have other letters attached for said rulers to distribute to those under them," Ocato declared. "Does everyone understand?"
All the councilors nodded.
"Then we will hold the conference and begin production of the letters tomorrow. Until then I suggest we retire."
'Thank goodness," Tjous thought to himself as he shuffled out the doors. 'I definitely need sleep now more than ever.'
"Well, I thank that went relatively well," Ocato told Martin.
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Tjous watched from the northern observation area of the Arena as the citizens of the Imperial City flooded into the stands and thought of what was going through their minds. Most likely they were confused since the Elder Council had never done something quite like this. There had been tournaments and such held in the Arena before, but never a conference. He wondered how the people would react when the saw the Emperor. Tjous was glad that there were invisible walls around the Arena preventing anyone from falling to their deaths, since he was sure someone would faint. He turned his head when an Imperial guard came through the doorway and walked up to Chancellor Ocato.
"Sir, every citizen that could fit into the stands is here."
"Good," Ocato stated, then dismissed the guard. He stood up and approached the railing of the balcony, causing everyone to fall silent. "Good citizens of the Imperial City, you all know of Emperor Martin's Septim's death when he bravely sacrificed himself to rid us of the horrible Mehrunes Dagon. I am sure many of your worried about what would happen with no heir to the throne. Many of us prayed to the gods for aid. Well, an answer has come. Just yesterday Martin Septim was returned to us. Some of you may think I am lying. Before you accuse me, though, see for yourself if what I say is true ."
As the Altmer finished his sentence, Martin Septim strode into view. The crowd immediately broke out into conversation and some people even fell over in their seats.
"Quiet, everyone! Quiet!" Ocato shouted. The stands become silent once more. "If anyone from the other cities or provinces says that the Emperor has not returned, you can act as our witnesses and say that you saw Martin Septim with your own eyes. Now, I believe our Emperor has something to say." The Altmer then backed away, so that the crowd's attention would be focused on Martin. Tjous looked on, eager to hear what Martin would say. The Emperor held up the Dragon Horn and the sunlight blazed across its surface, highlighting every intricate detail. "Here is proof that the Nine Divines returned me. This horn was crafted in Aetherius itself." The crowd gasped. Never before had they seen so beautiful an object.
"I know that I was only in this world a short while before, but I still intend to rule the Empire as I did then. I will try my hardest to rule Tamriel with kindness and mercy as my father, Uriel Septim VII, did before me. Everyone shall be treated fairly and justice will prevail throughout the land. I hope to bring calmness to Tamriel after the horror and destruction of the Oblivion Crisis. It caused grief to many and I wish to replace that grief with happiness and mirth. I sincerely promise I will do my best to help everyone," Martin stated. "With the guidance of the Divines the Empire will come into an era or peace and prosperity under my reign."
The crowd erupted with applause and Tjous even clapped a few times himself. Ocato moved forward once more.
"Thank you, citizens! Now go with the knowledge that when Tamriel was in a time of darkness the gods restored her to glory!" The crowd cheered once more before before filing out of the stands.
"Chancellor, may I ask you something?" Martin questioned.
The Altmer nodded. "Of course, Emperor."
"Do you know where Bodil Ice-Sword and Samuel Coleridge live?"
"Ah, the Champion of Cyrodiil and the Mage of Blazes. After your death they left for Battlehorn Castle, which is not too far from Chorrol. Why do you ask?" Ocato questioned.
"I would like to send them a letter after I have written it," Martin explained. "I know letters announcing my return will be sent to various counties, but I would like to tell Bodil and Coleridge sooner. They are..."
"You don't need to explain, Emperor. Should I have a messenger at the ready to deliver the letter?"
"Yes, Chancellor. Thank you."
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Martin sat in his room, his quill smoothly moving across the parchment. However, his quill paused when he thought of his love for Bodil. Should he tell her? What if she did not love him back? He thought of the hurt he would feel if that were true. But it would hurt even more if he never knew the answer. He then addressed the next section of the letter to Bodil only and poured out all of his feelings onto the parchment telling her how noble he thought she was for placing herself in harm's way to help him to the throne and to save Tamriel and how braver he felt around her. It seemed that the quill was linked to his heart as he wrote.
After he finished he closed the letter and opened the door, handing the missive to a guard with instructions to give it to Bi'tuo, the messenger Ocato had waiting at Chestnut Handy stables.
He prayed to Dibella that Bodil loved him.
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Bodil sat in her private quarters in Battlehorn Castle, trying to focus on the book History of the Fighters Guild. The words barely registered in her mind, which kept drifting back to the events of the past two months. She had set out from Bruma with the intention of going to the Imperial City on routine business for the Fighter's Guild, and she had ended up helping to destroy one of the most dangerous daedric cults in Tamriel.
'One's life is always changing', the Nord thought. However, despite the peace that had followed after the defeat of Mehrunes Dagon, she still felt empty and hollow. Martin's death had brought a great sorrow upon her that was proving hard to lift, even for her closest friends. She also feared that without him the Empire would certainly collapse and fall into a state of turmoil. The land that she had lived in all her life would be ruined.
Bodil sighed and closed her book, placing it on the table next to the chair she was sitting in. She felt that the emptiness in her heart would never fade. Her pondering was interrupted by a knock on the wooden door.
"Enter," she said, straightening her posture and smoothing her blue dress. A limber man with short brown hair, Coleridge, entered, carrying an official-looking letter.
"This just arrived from the Imperial City," he told her as he shut the door behind him. Bodil took the letter from her friend and opened it. She began to read the letter, then froze. Coleridge moved closer to her.
"Bodil, are you alright? What does it say?"
"It is from Martin. It says that Akatosh and the other gods returned him," the woman replied.
"It can't be true," Coleridge stated , gazing at the letter over Bodil's shoulder.
"Yet it is. Look, here are the last words he said to me," she explained, pointing to a section. " 'Goodbye. You've been a good friend.' "
"Then it is from him," Coleridge breathed as Bodil continued to read on.
"He is summoning us to the Imperial Palace. Martin is redesigning the Temple of the One to honor the gods decision to return him. As a reward for our service during the Oblivion Crisis he is inviting us to give our input," she commented. A moment later a grin appeared on her face. When he tried to get a closer view she folded it up. "I am sorry, but this section of the letter is addressed specifically to me. I hope you are not offended."
"No, not at all," he commented with a smile. "We will set out tomorrow morning if that is alright with you."
Bodil nodded.
"Then I bid you a good night. Sleep well."
"You too," Bodil said.
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Malevolens Mucro held the reins of Bodil's armored white stallion, Aage, so that the Nord could mount. Glancing over to her right she saw Bodil's friend climb aboard his own horse with assistance from her fellow maid, Rona Benanius. Aage stamped a hoof on the ground, causing Bodil to pat his neck.
"Well, I suppose we had better be off then," she stated. "Thank you, Malevolens."
"You are most welcome, Mistress Ice-Sword."
At the nudge of Bodil's feet Aage walked forward, Coleridge following close behind. One of the Knights of the True Horn opened the gate, allowing the two to exit the castle grounds. As soon as the gate was shut Malevolens casually walked towards Battlehorn Castle, only slipping around the back when no one was looking. Then the Imperial used a stack of crates to climb up over the back wall.
Malevolens peered through the trees to see how far Bodil and Coleridge were ahead of her. Fortunately, they weren't too far. The woman then headed east through the forest on the side of the Black Road, grinning to herself at the thought that the Knights of the True Horn and the other inhabitants of Battlehorn Castle would never think that sweet, innocent Malevolens would be planning to harm Mistress Ice-Sword. Malevolens smelled the lovely scents of the flowers that grew around her and listened to the birds flitting about in the trees.
"Yes," she said to herself. "This is defintely a lovely day for revenge."
Along the way Bodil and Coleridge were joined by four women and two men, but Malevolens paid them little heed. It was Bodil she was after and if they got in her way she would just have to deal with them. Nothing was going to stop her. They fortunately turned onto the Orange Road after bidding goodbye to Bodil and Coleridge, saving them from Malevolens' malicious intentions.
Malevolens continued to follow her prey, excitement building in her as she tread each length of ground. The sun had dimmed considerably when she finally decided to launch the attack she had waited so long for. Malevolens held up her hands and cast a bolt of frost onto the cobblestone path, causing the two horses to rear up. The Nord gazed around her, her eyes searching fervently for the attacker.
"Who is there?" she shouted, a hand on her sword hilt. "Show yourself!"
Malevolens stepped through the brush and in front of Bodil. "Here I am," she cooed.
"Malevolens? What are you doing here?" Coleridge asked, bewilderment crossing his features. "I thought you were back at Battlehorn Castle."
"So do the other Knights of the True Horn. However, what you think matters little, Coleridge."
"What do you want, Malevolens?" Bodil questioned, her eyes narrowing beneath her Imperial Dragon helmet.
"One simple thing: revenge," the Imperial hissed. "Before I was a servant at your castle I had a lover. His name was Arbor. Many wonderful times he and I had together in the town of Chorrol. Every day he and I grew closer and closer. We even thought we would be married soon. Then one day that all that changed. Arbor told me he met with a man who told him how he could acheive great power. My love was unfortunately lured by his words. Do you know who that man was?" she inqueried crisply.
Bodil continued to glare at her.
"He was a Mythic Dawn agent. Arbor told me of his plans to join and how he would amass a large fortune after Mehrunes Dagon invaded Tamriel. I tried to talk him out of it, but he would not listen. It seems his love of power and money was stronger than his love for me, but Arbor gave me a magic ring that remained green so long as he was alive to comfort me when he left. I wept for weeks after he was gone, although I did not try to follow him. My love was set in his ways and there was nothing I could do. One day, to my horror, the emerald color of the ring dimmed, and I knew that he was gone. However, Arbor had told of me of how the slain went to Mankar Camoran's Paradise and I did not completely give in to my grief. When I heard how you destroyed it, despair overtook me completely.
"It was then that I vowed to get revenge for Arbor's death. So I found out your location at Battlehorn Castle and offered my services as a servant in hopes that one day I would be able to get revenge on you. You then proceeded to hire me without even giving thought that I might be deceiving you. Then one day while I was searching your room for something to help me get my revenge under the guise of cleaning, I found the letter the Emperor sent you and Coleridge. I was suprised and delighted when I read the Emperor was in love with you, since I knew you were in love with him from reading your diary sometime before. The opportunity for retaliation had finally come to me."
Bodil dismounted and approached Malevolens. "You are coming with me to-," she started to say, but Malevolens shot forth a bolt of deep red at Bodil. The Nord fell to her hands and knees as her health was rapidly sapped out of her. Pain coursed through every inch of her body, so much so that she could not even scream. Coleridge leaped from his panicking steed who fled as soon as his rider was off. Malevolens was so focused on Bodil that she did not notice when Coleridge restrained her. The spell ceased and Bodil was released from her torture, although the pain from the spell still tore at her body. Malevolens growled and swung her foot as hard as she could into Coleridge's crotch. The Breton immediately released his hold and struggled to stand up. His opponent turned towards Bodil, ready once more to continue casting her evil magic. However, she was greeted with the sight of Bodil's ebony-clad steed rushing towards her with fury ablaze in his eyes. The former servant shot forth a beam of ice onto the ground, causing the steed to lose his footing and crash onto his side Although he struggled to get up, he could not under the weight of the heavy armor. Malevolens laughed in sweet satisfaction, only to feel Coleridge tackle her onto the ground. He pinned her with as much of his weight as he could and began to drain her magika. Malevolens felt it quickly pour out of her like water pours out of a basin.
She struggled against the man, but to no avail. He only tightened his grip on her. Malevelons had to do something or all of her magika would be drained. In a desperate attempt to get Coleridge to let her go, she used the only weapon she had left: her mouth. With all her strength she bit down on his hand, digging her teeth into his flesh. He let out a cry and removed it from her, freeing her left arm. Seizing her opportunity she slammed a fist into the other hand holding her, causing her other arm to be released. However, the lower half of her body was still restrained so she stretched out her arms and shoved Coleridge forward with her upper body as hard as she could. He was thrown slightly backwards, withdrawing some of his weight off of her. Malevolens repeated her attack and succeeded in completely freeing herself. Getting to her feet she withdrew her dagger from its sheath and plunged it into Coleridge's stomach. The man gasped as the icy metal cut through muscle and bone, causing blood to rush forth from the wound. Malevolens sharply withdrew the weapon and Coleridge collapsed onto the road, clutching the injury.
"There, that should hold you for a while," she spat as she strode over to Bodil. "Now, since you made it impossible for me to see my love ever again, I will do the same for you." She began to chant, causing a sickly orange light to form around her right hand.
"Long ago I made a vow
To avenge my fallen Arbor
So I will speak here and now
These beautiful words of mine
Richer than any lady's purse
Are the tomes through which I did sift
I learned that Umaril would return
To unleash his anger upon the gods
And of Sheogorath's realm of madness
The wild and unpredictable Shivering Isles
Until you cause Umaril to fall from power
And end Sheogorath's mania
Reunited with the Emperor you will never be
So taste my revenge."
As the last word left her lips the orange light shot forth from her hand and surrounded Bodil's body before fading away.
"How does it feel to lose someone that you love?" she hissed before running off into the Great Forest. Coleridge's chest heaved in and out as he tried to staunch the flow of bleeding with his hands. Every breath he took racked his body with agony. He prayed to Akatosh that someone had heard the skirmish and was coming this way. Each second seemed like an hour to him and he began to lose hope until a Bosmer rushed out of the forest and onto the road. The mer stood in shock at the sight for a moment before rushing over to Coleridge, helping the man to take off his shirt so he could bind the wound. He then ripped off part his cloak and tied it tightly around the injury.
"Who did this?" he asked once the job was done.
"An Imperial woman named Malevolens Mucro attacked us and fled east into the Great Forest," he gasped, gesturing weakly with his arm. "But that does not matter. Please, go to Chorrol and tell them that we need assistance."
Kuror hesitated for a second. He had stolen much food and supplies from the town and he was likely to get caught even with his face hidden. Then the image of the stranger sparing him and giving him money flashed through his mind and he sprinted towards the town as fast as he feet could carry him, pulling up the hood of his cloak. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the Chorrol gate.
"Travelers...were attacked on the...Black Road. They...need help," he panted, gesturing in the direction he had come from. The guards instantly dashed off.
"There. I have gotten help and I do not need to do anymore," Kuror told himself as he took a few steps forward. Then he halted. Shouldn't he help somehow? Guilt began to [censored] at him until he finally muttered under his breath and ran in the direction of Bodil and Coleridge. When Kuror arrived at the site of the attack he saw the man and woman supported by the two guards. One of them looked at Kuror in surprise, then anger as recognition came into his eyes.
"Did you do this, thief? he shouted at Kuror.
"No! I swear I did not!"
"You better be telling the truth," he threatened.
"He...he is," the Breton stuttered.
The guard gave a look of concern to the man. Then he turned to Kuror. "Get the horse up, scum. We need someone to lead him."
Kuror narrowed his eyes at the guard, but walked over to the fallen stallion anyway. He grabbed the reins and pulled hard, digging his feet into the ground as much as he could, causing the beast to shakily plant his front hooves on the ground and lift himself up into a sitting position. Kuror encouraged Aage further by gently talking to him and tugging once more on the reins. After a few attempts at lifting his back end into position the animal was on all fours.
"Alright. The thief can drop the horse off at the stables. We will escort you two to the Chapel of Stendarr for healing, but we need to go as fast as possible. Night is almost upon us," the second guard commented. The group then began the slow journey along the Black Road, the guards' shoulders aching from supporting Bodil and Coleridge, but with dogged determination they continued on and refused to stop. It seemed forever, but they eventually reached the gate to the relief of all. Kuror led Aage into the pasture and shut the gate behind him. He saw the Chorrol gate open to admit the guards and those that they carried. The guard carrying Coleridge said a few words to his fellow officer at the gate before he and his partner went in. Kuror did not have to hear them to know that the words were a warning that he might run off.
Kuror sighed and sat down on the grass. What had he gotten himself into?
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Gureryne Selvilo and his fellows were shocked to see the doors of the Chapel of Stendarr open to reveal two Chorrol guards supporting travelers. Gureryne and Orag gra-Bargol immediately rushed over to the soldiers and relieved them of Bodil and Coleridge, escorting the wounded man and woman to their rooms in the chapel and setting each of them on a bed. Orag quickly walked over to a table and picked up two glass bottles. After undoing the cork, she put a hand behind the woman's head and poured the potion down her throat with the other, making sure Bodil swallowed. She then did the same for the second bottle.
"Now, how about I get you out of that armor?" Piece by piece gra-Bargol removed the heavy metal, along with Bodil's sword, from the Nord and set on the floor at the end of the bed, leaving the woman clad only in a cloth shirt and pants. The Orc strode over to a dresser and opened it, taking out a plain green dress. Gra-Borgal helped the tired Bodil to change into it before demanding that she rest and left.
Bodil sighed and let her head fall to the pillow, which felt quite comfortable compared to the hard ground, and tried to absorb what had happened. To think that Malevolens, who she had once thought of as an innocent girl, had plotted revenge against Bodil was astounding. And she was still out there. There was no telling how many other people she might have a grudge against. She hoped with all her heart that Coleridge would be alright. If she lost him it would hurt her more than the waters of Oblivion. Then her mind turned to Malevolens' curse. Coleridge had told her about Umaril and of his epic battle with Pelinal Whitestrake. He had even let her borrow some if his books on the subject. If the texts were true Umaril would return, but they had never said when. It could be hundreds of years before that date. And if he did how would she defeat him? She was an experienced warrior, but not near as good a fighter as Pelinal. As for ending Sheogorath's madness...There was even less hope of accomplishing that than defeating Umaril since there was no way that she knew of to enter the Shivering Isles. Even if she did it seemed impossible to end the insanity of the Daedric Prince of Madness. Bodil sighed and tried to go to sleep.
Meanwhile Gureryne Selvilo was treating Coleridge's wounds. He untied the bloody cloth on the man's chest and set it aside, grimacing when he saw the wound on Coleridge's abdomen. He picked up a cloth, dipped it in a basin of water, and gently dabbed it on the wound in order to clear the area of excess blood. Coleridge flinched, but a glance from Gureryne made him steady himself. Once that was was done he wrung the rag out in another basin and threw it in a wicker basket for it to be washed later. He gingerly placed his hands on the wound and took a deep breath so he could concentrate on healing Coleridge. A blue light encompassed his hands and flowed into Coleridge like rain onto a parched field. The hole in his stomach where Malevolens' dagger had gone through slowly closed inch by inch until it sealed,the muscle came together once more by increments, and finally the skin closed up. Gureryne gasped as he finished and his hands shook as he leaned on the bedpost to collect himself. A good deal of time passed before he felt he had the energy to move again. Healing Coleridge was worth the cost to him, though. Helping people in need was his calling. If that meant giving up some of himself he would do so gladly.
"Thank you," Coleridge said, observing that he now had a scar where the wound had been. Gureryne nodded and walked over to a dresser, taking out a plain blue shirt. He carefully helped Coleridge into it.
"Where will you sleep?" the Breton asked.
"Do not worry about me, friend. I will sleep on a bedroll and I assure you that I am quite comfortable lying on one. Goodnight."
With that Gureryne exited the room. Coleridge sighed. Never before had he expected Malevolens to be an experienced mage. One thing in particular that bothered him, though, was the type of magic she cast. He recalled a story he was told by his father when he was young. In the time of the First Era, when the dragons still communicated with man, a dragon named Dolosus lived in the dragon village of Kogaan Do Ro, which is said to be located near Shornhelm. Dolosus was a skilled mage. Those in the village thought him eccentric, but nothing more. However, Dolosus had a dark secret. He had invented type of curse: the Staadnau Vokul. It allowed anyone to invent any curse they could think of without any limitations whatsoever. To make it especially caustic Dolosus made it so said curse could never be reversed unless the caster stated otherwise. Dolosus kept this spell in a heavy, leather-bound book called the Mortifera Intemptesta Nox which was full of many other horrific spells besides the Staadnu Vokul which he loved to inflict on the helpless, although he always avoided suspicion and someone else was always blamed. Not wanting anyone to see it Dolosus hid the tome in a spot where he thought no one would find it. However, a nosy young dragon by the name of Castrum snuck into Dolosus' cave while he was out one night, stumbled upon the tome, and escaped with it. He brought it back to his own home to study, but when he glanced the contents he cried out and rushed to the Count of Kogaan, Epos, and told him what he had found, not even caring that he was confessing to the crime of stealing. Epos told Castrum to fetch the item immediately and when he saw the evidence before him he flew into a rage. As Dolosus was returning Epos intercepted him and waved the tome in front of his face, demanding that he explain.
Various inhabitants of the village stopped to watch the confrontation. Dolosus' eyes widened in surprise and fear at the fact that his secret had been exposed. Then in one quick movement he snatched his precious volume from Epos' talons and clamped as hard he could on the massive dragon's neck, beheading the Count. With blood dripping from his jaws he took off into the air, flying as hard and as fast as he could. Already Dolosus could hear the angry roars and rushing of wings behind him. The chase continued on for some time, the mage pumping his limbs even though they cried out in agony. He began to falter, his pursuers coming closer with every wingbeat. Dolosus decided that he did not want his precious work to be destroyed and so dropped it into the wilderness near Shornhelm. He then wheeled around and let loose a thunderous roar, ready to fight to the death. Fang tore through flesh and blood arced through the sky as they fought, their hot breath lighting up the black sky like giant torches. In the end it was a losing battle. Dolosus' mangled corpse was left for scavengers to feast on. The dragons, mourning Epos, searched far and wide for the Mortifera Intemptesta Nox in order to rid Nirn of it forever, but even after years and years of searching it was never found. Finally they had to concede defeat.
Coleridge shook his head and came back to reality. Malevolens must have acquired Dolosus' spell book somehow and then used the Staadnu Vokul to curse Bodil. If she could decipher the Staadnu Vokul that must mean she had another dragon artifact since he thoroughly doubted she was one of the very few people that could understand dragonish: a perspicuus. His father had told him that dragons used them to translate works from the language of the dragons into that of any other race. This tool in the hands of the honest brought great knowledge, but Malevolens had twisted its purpose. Coleridge wondered where and how she had gotten the artifacts, but that did not concern him near as much as the fact that that Dolosus' tome was still out there. He wandered if Malevolens had hidden the Mortifera Intemptesta Nox and the prespicuus somewhere in Battlehorn Castle. They had to be destroyed to prevent further abuse of their power. First, though, he must recover. Even though his wound was healed it still hurt considerably. And with that he let himself climb into the sweet embrace of sleep.
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Kuror stood up when he saw the two guards from before and another man who he knew to be Bittneld the Curse-Bringer, the Captain of the Chorrol Guard approach him.
"Follow us. We need to talk to you," Bittneld said. Kuror obliged and followed the the three men through the gate and into the guard barracks. One of the guards ordered him to sit down. The Bosmer did so, keeping his gaze level with the man's.
"What do you know about the attack, thief?" he asked.
"My name is Kuror, not thief. I was at my camp in the Great Forest at dusk and then the sounds of combat some distance away came to my ears. I normally avoid confrontation so I ignored it. A few moments later the noise ceased, but I could not help wandering what had happened. The thought would not leave me alone so I headed in the direction the commotion had come from. When I came upon the scene I saw the Breton, the Nord, and the horse on the ground. I rushed over to the Breton and tore off part of my cloak to bind his wound. As I was doing so he named the attacker as an Imperial female named Malevolens Mucro and said she fled east into the Great Forest after the assault. That's all that I can tell you," Kuror stated.
"This Malevolens could not have gotten too far since it was dusk when she attacked. She probably made her own camp not too far from here," the guard standing next to Kuror's interrogator thought out loud as he rubbed his chin.
"It is getting dark, so I think our best bet would be to ask the two victims more about Malevolens tomorrow morning and commence our search then," Bittneld said.
"What about him?" the second guard said, jerking his head towards Kuror.
"I doubt he has money to pay his fine, so I suppose that we throw him in jail," Bittneld stated.
"Wait! I can pay my fine! Here!," Kuror exclaimed, untying the pouch that the strange man had given him and handing it to Bittneld. The captain studied it suspiciously.
"Where did you this from?"
"A man gave it me," the Bosmer replied.
"Don't tell me lies, thief," Bittneld growled.
"I'm not lying! He did give me the gold!"
"And what were you doing when you met this man?" Bittneld questioned, narrowing his eyes.
"I was hunting deer in the Great Forest and he came across my path," Kuror explained.
"And you did not see an opportunity to rob him and attempt to do so?"
Kuror stayed silent for a moment.
"Did you?" Bittneld repeated in a firm voice.
"Yes, but-"
"I knew it. You may have not have harmed the travelers, but you do not have any evidence to prove that this gold is not stolen," Bittneld declared.
"I did not steal it! He gave it to me because he wanted to!" Kuror shouted in frustration.
"You are saying that a man who you tried to rob gave you the gold as a nice gesture?" Bittneld asked.
"Yes!"
"I do not believe you," Bittneld told Kuror, placing the pouch in a chest and locking it."You are going to jail."
Kuror's heart sank. He was being completely honest and the Bittneld thought he was lying. Part of him felt that he should have stayed in the Great Forest. If he had done so he wouldn't be sitting in the barracks of the Chorrol guard. However, another part of himself felt that Kuror had done the right thing by going to the guard and getting help for the man and woman and suggested that he help catch their attacker.
'No,' he thought. 'I did the right thing and it got me into trouble. Why should I do so again?' The guards could find Malevolens on their own. Then he recalled the stranger;s words to him earlier about the honor of giving and thought of how much peace of mind it give the victims the sooner they knew their attacker was in jail. The guards could certainly track down Malevolens faster with his help. As a Bosmer he could see, smell, and hear far better than they could. The knowledge that he would be sitting by and doing nothing when he could be helping caused guilt to course through him.
"Before you lock me up, though, let me to help you track down and capture Malevolens," Kuror stated.
"Why would you want to help?" a guard spat.
"Because it's the right thing to do," Kuror replied sternly.
"We could just hire a mage to track her down for us and we have enough guards to help us. There is no need for the aid of thief," his fellow countered.
"How well do the Chorrol mages know the terrain of the Great Forest? I have lived there all my life and I know the land like it was a part of me. Therefore I could lead you to Malevolens quicker than a mage. As for my use in securing her, I assure you I am quite agile. Do not deny that the speed of a Bosmer could come into use. "
"You do have a point," Bittneld admitted grudgingly after a moment of thought. "Fine, we'll set out tomorrow since it is dark out. Besides, Alon and Teol look like they could use a rest."
"I guess I am sleeping in the Chorrol dungeons tonight," Kuror muttered.
"No. It is easier to put you into jail then to get you out. You will sleep here in the barracks on a bedroll."
'At least it is better than sleeping in dank, smelly prison cell and having to worry about a rat nibbling on me,' Kuror thought somberly to himself.
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Bodil sat next to Coleridge at a table in the Oak and Crosier. Gureryne Selvilo and Orag gra-Bargol had done a wonderful job at healing the both of them and they could now move around, although it still hurt to do so too quickly. The healers had advised the both of them to refrain from travelling for a few days just to be safe. Bodil looked at Coleridge, thankful that she had such a loyal friend. She had known Coleridge for a long time now and he had been like a big brother to her ever since she met him in Bruma all those years ago.
"I can not think you enough for defending me back on the Black Road," Bodil told him, smiling.
"Hey, what are friends for?" Coleridge replied, then shifted in his seat as the door to the inn opened. "Look. It is two of the guards from yesterday."
Bodil followed her friends gaze and watched as the men approached them and took a seat.
"How are you two feeling?" one of the guards asked.
"Much better," Coleridge replied. "Thank you for helping us. We definitely could not have made it to Chorrol on our own."
"No problem," said the guard. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Alon Nux."
"And I am Bittneld the Curse-Bringer, Captain of the Chorrol guard.
Bodil nodded. "My name is Bodil Ice-Sword and this is my friend Samuel Coleridge."
Bittneld's eyes widened a bit at hearing their names. "The Champion of Cyrodiil and the Mage of Blazes? I never thought I would run into you two. Anyhow, we need to talk. The Bosmer told us that the person who attacked you was named Malevolens Mucro. Can you tell us what she looks like?"
"I thought that might be why you were here. Utterly abhorrent of how she took advantage of Bodil by posing as a servant. As for her appearance, I believe she is around nineteen years of age. Malevolens is of average height, has long, black hair and her eye color is brown. If I remember correctly she is wearing a flax tunic, a brown skirt, a pair of oiled linen shoes, and a necklace with a powerful shield enchantment on it. I do not know that types of spells it is resistant to other than fire, so I would not rely on magic if you need to use force to bring her in," Coleridge advised.
"Does she favor any particular type of weapon?" Alon questioned.
"Malevolens seems to be quite skilled with ice magic. She also used another spell to attack Bodil that I do not know the mechanics of too well. I drained much of her magika during the attack, though." Coleridge stated."The only weapon besides magic that she has is a dagger. Be careful. Malevolens is very fast when she attacks and will try every trick there is to defeat you."
"We will. Thank you for the information," Bittneld stated as he and Alon stood up. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Bodil and Coleridge repeated. When the guards left Coleridge turned to Bodil.
"Can I talk to you in private?" he questioned. Bodil raised an eyebrow but rose from her seat and followed Coleridge up the stairs and into his room, her friend shutting the door behind him. "I think I know what spell Malevolens used to curse you."
"What...how?"
Coleridge then told her the story of Dolosus and the Mortifera Intemptesta Nox that his father had told him when he was but a child. Bodil could hardly believe that a dragon had made the spell that had caused her so much pain.
"I felt blessed by the gods when I found out that Martin was returned and yet I am cursed to never see him again unless the impossible happens," she muttered. "The tides of fate are fickle indeed."
"Do not give up hope. No matter what fate deals you, hope will always be there for you to hold onto," Coleridge declared, placing a hand on Bodil's shoulder.
"Here is my plan," began Bittneld after informing the others about Malevolens. "Once the Bosmer tracks down Malevolens we surround her. Alon will move in front of her, Teol will take position behind her, and the thief and I will go to each side of her. At my signal Alon and Teol will rush forward and restrain Malevolens so that the thief and I can put the wrist and ankle irons on her. Watch out for her ice attacks. Although she has been drained of much of her magika she is still dangerous. Also be wary of Malevolens' dagger. Even a blade as small as that can be lethal if used the right way. After the irons are put on her we escort Malevolens to jail. Does everyone understand?"
Teol, Alon, and Kuror nodded.
"Good," Bittneld affirmed, disappearing from the room for a moment before returning with the aforementioned wrist and ankle irons. He handed the wrist irons to Kuror before attaching the ankle irons to his belt. The Bosmer did likewise. Then the four men exited the barracks, proceeding along the Black Road and turning east when they reached the spot where Bodil and Coleridge had been assaulted. After a few minutes of searching Kuror's keen eyes spotted two sets of footprints in the grass overlapping one another. One set led to the Black Road, but the other went away from it. They were not large in stature, had a slender shape to them, and were obviously from the same person from what he could tell. Kuror thought for a moment before bending down and picking up a small clump of dirt. He held it to his nose and breathed in deep. He could smell many things, but a familiar scent he had often had contact with in his youth came to him: that of oiled linen.
"She was here, alright," Kuror announced to the group, letting the dirt crumble to the ground. "Come, let's follow the trail and see where it leads," he stated, moving forwards. Silence surrounded the men, save for the soft chinking of the guards armor and the movements of creatures scurrying about. The morning sun shone down upon them, causing them to sweat. Still they continued on, determined to bring Malevolens to justice. After a while Kuror stopped and examined a tree.
"Ah, here might be a signal that we are on the right track," Kuror commented as he reached over to it and removed a single flaxen thread. As with the dirt, he inhaled the scent.
"Look at this," he said, holding it up to the group. "This is definitely from Malevolens' shirt."
"How do you know it came from her?" asked Teol, leaning closer to get a better view.
"Among other things, the thread smells of mead, candle wax, and old leather. Alon said Malevolens posed as a servant. Those are all the smells a domestic would have on them," explained Kuror before turning around and continuing to follow the footprints. Grass and twigs crunched under their feet as the continued on their quest. As they continued on the smell of ash entered Kuror's nostrils as he breathed. Sure enough, they soon came upon a dead campfire underneath a large tree with more footprints leading away from it. Kuror also noticed the area where the grass was bent from where someone had slept.
"I am quite sure this is Malevolens' camp since the imprint in the grass is about the size she would be," Kuror declared as he bent down to take a pinch of ashes between his fingers."These are still a tad warm. It seems she left some hours ago."
The men continued on through the forest, each going over Bittneld's plan in his head. Kuror slid a hand to the irons on his belt, thinking of the moment when he would have to rush forward and clamp them onto Malevolens' wrists. He had never trusted guards before, especially since he had begun his care as a thief a week ago, but it was imperative that he trust them now if Malevolens was to be captured. Then that same something inside him that had spoken to him in the barracks asked why he even cared about this expedition in the first place. What did it matter to him if this woman was captured or not? Why care about the peace of mind of her victims? Kuror suddenly felt himself sorely tempted to lose the guards in the thick foliage and leave.
Then another part of Kuror told him those thoughts were selfish and that he would be lowering himself by running away. It told him that by helping put away someone who had harmed others he was doing the right thing. So he walked onward, despite the desire to escape lurking within him. As the minutes wore on the guards began to tire. Kuror may have been used to walking through the forest for a long distance, but the others were not. Then a voice from up ahead caused Kuror to hold out his arm in order to stop the others.
"Ah, my dear Arbor is finally avenged. He may have been part of the Mythic Dawn, but that did not give that wretched Nord the right to take him away from me. She paid dearly, though. It is even more satisfying when I think of the fact that no guard will ever be able to find me. Those buffoons are so used to patrolling the city they could not even find their way out of a bush."
Bittneld motioned for the group to move into their positions. The group quietly moved into their places and closed in around her while she continued to talk, every muscle taut and ready in their bodies. Once everyone was ready Bittneld gave the signal for the plan to commence, causing Alon and Teol to rush at her. Malevolens jumped in shock as she saw the two guards crashing through the forest growth. She released a stream of ice at each of them, but it splintered on Alon and Teol's shields as they lifted them up. Malevolens let loose a cry of frustration when the two men pinned grabbed hold of her. She kicked and writhed, but it was ineffective against the chain mail of those who restrained her. Then Bittneld and Kuror came forward and clamped the irons onto her. Malevolens was enraged.
"Let me go, you pathetic fools!" she exclaimed.
"Malevolens Mucro, you are hereby arrested under the authority of Countess Arriana Valga for the attack and injury of innocent travelers," Bittneld stated. He then made a gesture for the group to move forward. They trekked back through the Great Forest, Alon and Teol making sure to keep a firm grip on Malevolens. Kuror then felt the urge to run away. He had done his job. Why linger if all that awaited him was a jail cell? But like a refrain the stranger's words about being rewarded with something greater than gold sang through his mind and the virtue inside him fought against his desire to flee and won. He glanced at the trees and the plants, thinking that he would soon see them no more. Was this his reward? To have a glimpse of his beloved forest before he was thrown into prison for something he did not do? Each step that he took seemed heavier to Kuror. By the time they reached Chorrol and the gate was opened he was sorely disheartened. So much so that he barely paid attention as people stopped to look at the sight of Malevolens being led to the castle. The guards opened the doors to the castle as the men and woman approached.
"Bittneld, what do you have there?" Countess Arianna Valga asked as she caught sight of the group.
"This woman, Malevolens Mucro, assaulted two travelers along the Black Road, severely injuring them, Countess."
Arriana nodded. "But who is this?" she questioned, gesturing to Kuror.
"He is the Bosmer who has been stealing from merchants the past five weeks. He tried to pay his fine with gold, but I had reason to suspect it was stolen. He helped us track down Malevolens and assist in her capture, though I do not understand why," Bittneld replied, gesturing for Teol and Alon to resume taking Malevolens to prison. The two men nodded and shoved Malevolens forward, exiting through a large door.
"Come here, Bosmer," Arianna ordered. Kuror walked over the throne and straightened his posture. "What is your name?"
"Kuror."
"Was the gold in your possession stolen like Bittneld said, Kuror?"
"No, Countess. I swear upon my life I did not."
"And why did you help to capture the criminal?"
"Because...because a man I tried to rob showed me mercy and told me there was no honor in stealing, but there was honor in giving."
"It seems you had a change of heart. Tell me, where did you learn your skill?" Arriana questioned.
A pained expression came across Kuror's face. "My father taught me, Countess."
"He schooled you well." Arriana leaned back and thought for a moment. "You had the opportunity to escape within the depths of the Great Forest and yet you did not. That shows that you have indeed gained a sense of honor. Therefore I will believe that you are telling the truth and did not steal the gold. Consider your fine paid."
Kuror's eyes widened. He could not believe he just went from being on his way to prison to being a free man.
"However, I have an offer for you, if you are interested," Arriana said. "Your talent at tracking could be useful in the future. As such, I would like to extend an invitation to you to become a guard of Chorrol."
Bittneld and Kuror's jaws dropped in surprise. Kuror felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest from shock. A position as a guard? Having a job would mean he would not have to steal anymore since he would have a steady income. He would also have a warm place to sleep at night. Not that he minded the woods, but a roaring fire was preferable to the unpredictable weather of the Great Forest.
"Yes, Countess. I accept," Kuror replied.
"Good. You will be outfitted with the proper armor and weapons shortly. Welcome to the guard, Kuror," she declared with a smile.
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Three days after Malevolens was arrested, Martin exited the Council Chambers after yet another lengthy discussion. He was beginning to worry about Bodil and Coleridge since they should have arrived yesterday. As he thought of all this, Martin let himself be escorted up to his private quarters. Just as he was about to ready himself for bed a knock sounded on the door. Even though he was tired he told whoever it was to come in.
"A message for you, Emperor," stated the Imperial guard that entered the room. Martin took the letter and was then left alone. He opened the message and started to read. He was shocked by the missive. Bodil and Coleridge were attacked? Ice ran through his veins as he read about Malevolens' curse and the fact it could only be lifted by Bodil herself. He felt a little better when he learned of Malevolens capture, though. When he read that Bodil loved him as well he felt warmth course through him. At least there was some good among the bad. Sighing, Martin put the letter in a drawer, changed into his sleeping robes, and climbed into bed.
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On the night Martin's letter arrived it was time for Bodil and Coleridge to leave. Bodil and Coleridge had decided that they would ride back to Battlehorn Castle, resume their lives, and keep praying for the gods to help in some way. After a brief goodbye to the guards at the gate they set off. Their steed's hooves made a steady rhythm on the road as they rode. The journey was silent for the most part, each lost in their own thoughts. The early morning sun shone and then dimmed as time stretched on and dusk fell. At last the two friends saw Battlehorn Castle appear and urged their horses forward. The gate lifted as Bodil and Coleridge approached and they rode through, glad to be home after the long ride. The two dismounted and led their horses to the stables where they began to relieve the creatures of their gear.
"Mistress Ice-Sword, I did not expect to see you home so soon. I thought you would be gone for another week," commented the knight who had opened the gate as he approached Bodil.
"Something came up. It seems our visit to the Imperial City has been canceled, Calur," the Nord replied as she placed a piece of Aage's armor on a special rack outside of his stall.
"Too bad. I am afraid I have some unfortunate news. Malevolens disappeared shortly after you left. We searched the castle from top to bottom but we could find no trace of the girl since then," Calur explained.
"It seems Malevolens had some unfinished business with me and followed me on my journey. It was resolved, though, but it seems that she will be staying in Chorrol from now on," Bodil replied, placing the last of Aage's armor on the rack. She then began to pick up a brush and groom him. Coleridge did the same for his steed. The horses dipped their heads in pleasure.
"Pity. She made a very good steak. Ah, well. That is how things go I suppose," Calur mused, turning around and heading back towards the castle.
"Pity? Pah! That miscreant does not deserve it!" Aage muttered once Calur was out of earshot. "I was fortunate I did not break a leg due to her blasted spell!"
"Well, she can not hurt anyone anymore" Bodil stated, finishing her wiping down of Aage and throwing a blanket over him before exiting the stall and shutting the door.
"Thank goodness. However, there is still the matter of the Mortifera Intemptesta Nox," Coleridge said after he was done with his own horse.
"What is that?" Aage asked.
"Something very evil that needs to be destroyed before anyone finds it. Knowing how secretive Malevolens is, she probably hid it in her room. Come, let us go. That wretched book can not be destroyed soon enough," Coleridge commented as Bodil and he exited the stables. Once inside Battlehorn Castle they headed straight to Malevolens' old quarters and entered them. They went around the room scrutinizing every corner of Malevolens' roomfor Dolosus' ancient text. Alas, though they thoroughly searched the room they could not find it.
"Where on Nirn could she have put the thing?" Bodil thought out loud, slumping against a wall. "We searched everywhere."
"Hmm...maybe not everywhere," Coleridge stated, once more opening a chest at the end of Malevolens' bed. He removed the items within and knocked on the bottom. A hollow sound replied. After a moment of fumbling Coleridge lifted up a loose part of the wood, revealing a black, leather-bound book with designs of horrific creatures crawling across its cover. Nestled in one of the straps was a red, oval-shaped glass. A mixed expression of disgust and fear crossed the Breton's face, and he held the tome like one would hold the remains of a dead animal. Coleridge closed the wood back over the gap and shut the chest.
"Should I light a fire, Coleridge?"
"Yes, but not in here. I do not want anyone to find out that we were snooping around in Malevolens's room. It could raise unwanted questions," he explained, exiting the area and heading towards his room. Once both he and Bodil were inside Coleridge shut the door. Bodil piled fresh firewood into the fireplace, grabbed a torch off of the wall, and set the logs ablaze. She put the torch back in its place and turned to Coleridge. The Breton tossed the Mortifera Intemptesta Nox into the fireplace, watching as the flames devoured the pages with a ravenous hunger. The horrific curses contained within the Mortifera Intemptesta Nox would no longer wreak their havoc on the innocent. The two friends gazed into the flames and noted how they became larger with each passing moment. Perhaps, like the fire, their own hopes would grow with time and prayer.
