Kapitel 332: Chapter LVIII: Escalation
"Well... that put a damper on things." Torygg's awkward hiss broke the silence as our select group commandeered one of the palace's private rooms.
"They had to be properly informed." Minthara shrugs from her seat close to my own "And it isn't like they were about to go celebrating anyway." Her flippant expression morphs into a scowl "The undead made sure of that."
Tullius' newly regrown fingers twitched as phantom pains flared "As useful as a celebration would have been, getting ready to resist the dragons takes priority." His frown lessens as the pain slowly leaves him, and he turns to me "Forgive me my childish hope but how certain are you this was not an isolated incident?"
Before I can answer Minthara does so for me "It is in the very nature of dragons to conquer and dominate, and Skyrim is covered in dozens of burial mounds holding their bodies and souls imprisoned." She scowls "Bodies and souls Alduin is more than capable of bringing back to life."
"Quite." I nod as I put out a cigar "Even if they lacked an overarching plan they would start conquering territories independently after a while simply because that is what they do."
Tullius sighs in acceptance and leans back, allowing some of the tension to leave him but not enough to fall asleep on the spot.
Torygg on the other hand forces a smirk "Lucky us then that Akatosh saw fit to send a hero to aid us in these dark times."
"Yes." Minthara drawls "How incredibly lucky."
The young ruler winces at her tone and a moment later inclines his head "Apologies, I cannot even begin to imagine the weight this places on your shoulders."
She lets out a mirthless chuckle at that, directing a light glare my way "If only it all ended there."
I raise a mildly surprised eyebrow "You want to do this now?"
"Do what now?" Torygg blinks in confusion.
"Might as well get it over with." Minthara exhales and looks to Torygg with some hesitation "I am not... just a Dragonborn." She pauses to consider her words "I am also the last living descendant of Martin Septim."
A cup clatters onto the stone floor, spilling all of its untouched contents as Torygg stares at her blankly, his eyes searching her for any deceit before slowly turning to me. Seeing my lack of denial he slowly turns to Tullius, and as he notes the Imperial's complete and utter lack of surprise the panic that started to rise within him receded slowly.
"Just to be certain..." The poor man voices as he focuses back on Minthara "You are not telling me this to ask for my aid in taking the throne?"
Minthara gives him an amused at the question look but it is Tullius who answers "His Imperial Majesty has already named Lady Septim as his heir, even if it is meant to remain secret for some time yet."
"Of course." Torygg chuckles mirthlessly before directing a look of exasperated horror my way "How deeply do your schemes run, Reyvin?"
"The world dances upon the webs I weave." I drawl amusedly as a certain dagger is balanced atop my index finger, a peal of ethereal laughter echoing both close and distant only audible to myself.
He rolls his eyes "Of course." But just as he was about to relax himself his posture suddenly stiffens "Wait... If you were already aware of her heritage, why did you not use it to stop the war?" His gaze hardens "Ulfric's entire issue could have been solved in mere moments... Are my people's lives so worthless to you that you would write them off so easily?"
Before he can descend into a tirade, stuck considering what ifs as he was, I scoff "Is your trust in me so shallow Torygg? Really?"
"Trust?" He repeats "You ask for trust when you keep something like this secret from me? I consider you one of my greatest friends but even I am left wondering just what else are you keeping secret."
I could sense his frustration, the tiny part of whim that considered him to be the only one to have control over any situation in his kingdom slowly bubbling to the surface as the revelations of today joined the loss of yesterday "It would have made no difference Torygg." I say patiently "Ulfric would have found some kind of excuse."
A poor choice that was "No difference?!" He barks, slamming his fist on an armrest "And how is that your sole decision to make?!" He scowls "So eager you are to talk of trust yet you only demand it be given to you while giving none yourself!"
"And what would you have me do?!" I snap back, my annoyance flaring for a moment "Declare it all to the world when neither it or she were ready for it?"
"If it would stop my people from butchering each other." He hisses, already regretting his next words "Then yes."
"She would have been assassinated within the day." I scoff, earning a nod of agreement from Tullius, the silent Imperial too tired to join our little spat.
Before Torygg could retort, Minthara cleared her throat, cutting into the tension and breaking it in an instant "Reyvin is right, King Torygg." She says coldly "The foolish girl I was a mere year ago would have been crushed in days if knowledge were to spread." She tilts her head "That and the Dominion would declare war immediately if the alternative was seeing me live a single day longer."
"Without a doubt." Tullius chimes in.
He stews in his emotions for a while longer but knows a losing battle when he sees one, and his rising temper is swiftly brought under control "Right." He winces "Apologies... I-"
"Are incredibly fucking stressed from everything and are looking to assign blame you are currently directing at yourself." I interrupt with a meaningful look "You aren't guilty for Ulfric's decisions Torygg, no one blames you for what that idiot did."
His eyes widen in almost panicked surprise, before he suddenly relaxes and lets out a long exhale, a light chuckle leaving him a moment after "It is still unnerving how easily you are able to cut the truth out of any situation... And yet even if you say it I cannot help but blame myself." He slumps into his seat, his head resting awkwardly atop the backrest.
A few moments pass like that before he forces an obviously false grin onto his face and straighets up "But that is enough lamenting myself! We are here to decide on what to do."
I snort at his attempt and shake my head "Don't try to wave this off, make sure to talk about it with Elisif when you get back or it is going to eat you alive."
His grin disappears and the in-between expression he is left with just makes him look constipated "I... Uhm... Fine." He finally sighs, realizing I wasn't going to let him drop it "I will seek help should I need it." He placates before looking down "And Reyvin... Apologies for my earlier words."
I snort "I know I am a cunt, no need to pretend otherwise."
My mirth is infectious as he too lets out a weak but earnest chuckle "Of course."
"Now that your little lover's spat is over with." Minthara cuts in, amusement audible in her tone "Maybe we should actually start planning our moves before all of us fall asleep?"
Scorch appears on my shoulder and gives her a smug-ass look before audibly chirping "Jealousy is a terrible look on you, oh poor depraved follower of mine!"
Her usually pale face does its best impression of her hair as she looks away.
Torygg bursts out laughing, and Tullius... poor Tullius' eyes are filled with pure horror.
It took us another good twenty minutes before we finally started our work in earnest and by the time we were done hours later we were confident in at least being able to delay the inevitable before the fateful battle decided the fate of the world.
As if I would ever let it go that far.
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(General POV)
A bald Redguard of an impressive build stopped overlooking the recruits training under him as one of his people brought him a message marked with a familiar sigil, he skimmed it quickly, nodded to himself, and with newfound purpose called "Celann!"
The Breton stopped his lesson (read: beating) of a young Nord and jogged up to him "Yes Isran?"
"The call has come." The Redguard said gruffly "We move to Riften come dawn."
Celann looked across the field where the heavily armed and armored recruits trained with specialized weaponry that looked to be more fitting for a group of large game hunters than that of an order of warriors "Are we truly ready?" He asked after a moment, the lightest hint of doubt in his tone.
Isran considered the question for a while, before simply shrugging and picking up his hammer "There is only one way to find out."
-----
Durrak Gro-Barg sat atop one of the many stone fences surrounding the feasting halls of Jorrvaskr, his mind numb as he and his shield-siblings had just finished burning the remains of their Harbinger, who died peacefully in his sleep.
A small part of him cursed him at not being there for the old man as he passed, busy with hunting mercenaries and witches as he was. A much, much larger part cursed him for not being able to help set the old mentor's soul free so that he may go to Sovengarde and his ancestors.
A shadow flickered next to him, too quick for him to follow but not quick enough to leave him unable to react, he blinked in surprise then as what he caught was no person but a folded message. Shrugging his shoulder at something he had no way of controlling, he unfolded the letter and gave it a quick read.
Moments later a wide grin spread on his face as he shouldered his spear, his feet already leading him to his closest friends. Maybe he would not be able to follow the clues left to him by Kodlak's journal, he was nowhere near as sharp as his tools after all, but the least he could do is honor the man by bringing glory to their order.
And what greater honor and glory was there than that of slaying dragons?
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"I know I could never dissuade you from this foolishness but I will have your oath that you will be careful." Valerica Volkihar embraced her daughter, whispering her worries into her ear as the whole court observed in silence.
Rolling her eyes at the treatment, Serana still managed a contented smile "It is not I who should be afraid." She said, eyes flaring with deep seeded power, a crumpled letter sitting forgotten within her grasp.
-----
All over Skyrim more such messages arrived to their destinations, warriors of renown sharpened their blades, clans armed their retinues and court magi gleefully examined the keys and activation codes for the hidden stockpiles of arms and automatons placed in preparation for what was to come.
And yet, as massive black wings cut through the clouds, making a covering of their own much less pleasant than what was once in its path, one would have to wonder... would all of it come even close to being enough?
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(Reyvin's POV, days later)
As the priestess of Azura finished her funeral prayer and the crowd dispersed I finally allowed the carefully neutral expression of solemnity to leave me and joined the group waiting to the side.
"All of you are prepared then?" I asked Minthara and her party.
"As we will ever be." Marco grins, completely uncaring for the long days of suffering he was about to be subjected to.
Junia, Lydia, and the Blades duo also voiced their agreement, though much less enthusiastically.
"So much for that vacation, eh?" Minthara pretends to mock.
I shrug "We can rest when we are dead I suppose." I turn and signal for them to follow "Come on then, I have a wayshrine close to Morthal that you can u-" Before I could say another word or take another step a feeling of dread filled the air.
Most of us were left unshaken but I could some among the crowd looking around in surprise and terror, and then, as if that itself was not enough a familiar voice broke the air speaking from every direction both far and near, even as I detected its source to be half a province away.
"Mortal worms... defiant slaves... ignorant wretches... Betrayers all! Hear my voice and tremble! My army shall descend from the skies and my words shall shatter your walls! Bow your feeble heads in supplication and beg for mercy for the time of your pitiful kingdoms has come! Bow, for I have come! BOW! FOR AL DU IN HAS COME!"
The voice still rung in my ears as it kept echoing over and over and over again, finally it stopped a full minute later and my eyes met with Minthara's as we both echoed out a perfectly synchronized ""Fuck""
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AL DU IN = Destroyer Devourer Master
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