Shades of Ending, set after the oblivion MQ Options

[Olen]

Well it’s been a while, a long while, since I posted anything. I have been writing, some stuff which was non-TES, a false start which I spent too long fighting… There’s also another ~80k piece which I’ve left on a hard drive in Scotland so I’m taking a hiatus. Anyway I decided I fancied posting something.

This is unplanned and unfinished. I prefer to write all of something with a lot of planning and then post, but this time I thought I’d just let it flow and see what comes. Hopefully it won’t be too unpolished and I intend to make it more episodic so if I do lose interest for a bit it shouldn’t matter so much. The plan is to post one section while I write another, that way any criticisms can be addressed as I go.

Anyway without any more waffle a short intro.

Shades of Ending

1.1 Questioning

The prisoner met Verus’s eye across the scarred table. The watchman swallowed. “It does not look good for you,” his voice was quiet. He knew he should feel disgust, hatred even for what the man had done. But it was tempered. Perhaps it was because the man had more brain than most of the scum they dragged into the Cheydinhal prison. Or perhaps it was because he understood why, though he’d never admit it. Or it could just have been the passing resemblance to his son. Same dark hair and eyes, and not so different features.

Damn he hated this place, the sooner the investigation was over the sooner he could go and see the real thing back in the Imperial City. Not that distraction like this helped.

The prisoner looked back, “I’m fetched aren’t I?”

Verus winced at the tone and nodded. “Ferir,” he said the man’s name, gave him that much respect, “double murder of Imperial guards only leads to the gallows.”

“And it doesn’t matter that it was self defence, that they were trying to kill me? Had already killed my friends. We didn’t attack them.”

“It doesn’t matter. And even if it did you’re guilty of enough else to string you up. Possession with intent to supply – don’t tell me that much skooma was for personal use, our mage says you’re clean anyway. Bootlegging. Smuggling. As little as I like it you had it coming.”

Ferir nodded.

Verus could hardly believe it, they were always full of guar apples. Fake bravado to start with which slowly decayed into pleading. There was fear there certainly, he reeked of it, it was in the way he sat and moved. There was pain too, but mainly Verus thought it was resignation in the prisoner’s voice when he spoke. “Can you at least tell me who you killed?”

“I’m not meant to.” The gaze from the dark eyes flashed fierce like glowdust on a fire. It was the same spark which had cost the lives of two of the Imperial Legionaries who had raided the smugglers cavern, and it caught Verus off guard.

“You have a family.” It was a statement. “The people in that cave were as close to family as I’d found. You come and kill them, and within the next couple of days…” His gaze dipped to the scored boards of the table in the interrogation room. It slid uneasily round the manacles which held him. “I just want to know if any of them lived.”

“The patrol killed five. A two humans, a man and a woman, two khajit and a dunmer male.” If you had better luck you’d have been in that list. Verus didn’t add the thought, its truth was too bitter.

The eyes screwed closed. “The dunmer, what colour was his hair?”

“Red.” Verus watched Ferir deflate. His eyes shut and he thumped his wrists against the table, the chain which held them didn’t allow space for it to make more than a dull thud. He muttered something Verus didn’t catch, and decided not to press.

When Ferir finally opened his eyes again they were bloodshot. “Have you got what you want now?” There was anger in his voice, but also sadness, enough to suppress the flames, if not entirely quench them. “You know someone got away, you’ve got our contacts. I’m in pain, several of my closest friends are dead. Have you done enough?”

Verus frowned, it wasn’t something he was used to. Lines about choosing this fate when he chose crime seemed flimsy, paper props for the tragicomedy which passed as justice in this town. Ferir hadn’t lied about the pain either, the man was a mass of bruises. The legionaries had worked him over, and who could blame them? He wasn’t the only one to lose friends. Occasionally his hands would sneak towards the lower ribs on one side only to be rudely stopped by the chain.

Not that they’d waste healing on a condemned prisoner. You should have died in that cave. Verus shook his head, trying to dislodge the malaise which had built. He stood, this was too discomfiting. For a moment he struggled for words, then gave up and offered Ferir a single nod before leaving.

[Olen]

McBadgere - Thanks for the comment, it's good to know the action sequence worked. Thanks for pointing out those nits too...

SubRosa - I'm glad you enjoyed that section, it was fun to write. Thanks for pointing out the nits, I do proof read these, several times, but there are certain errors I just don't see...

Talking of writing... any news on TotFS? *puppy eyes*

Grits - Thanks, less dribbling maggots this time and more mystery mage.

All - Less of a delay this time but still a rather glacial pace. Might pick up a bit now most of uni is done as I look for things to do which aren't revise... Also, to forestall any mobs with pitchforks, I wrote this section prior to reading Jerric's Story so certain parallels drawn between healing (or absorb life more specifically) and necromancy weren't lifted from there. However as Grits did it rather better than I did I have changed various terms to differentiate them (mine applies only to absorb health as of the moment, though I'm not promising I won't steal borrow from Grits' idea)...

Where we were - Ferir and Ruben have stumbled across some necromancers on the night of the shade and got into a fight involving a mysterious third party...

3.3 Hedge Magic

Ferir slowed.

"She's alright," said Ruben.

Ferir lowered the sword and she spoke again, "I thought you intervened to save me. Who are you, I didn't realise the guild was involved."

"I could ask you the same question," Ferir could feel that shakes starting. They did after a fight. "And guild?"

"You're not mages guild, or with them?" She took a breath and sat up straighter. Her cloak, dappled in leafy shades of green, fell from where it had puddled on her shoulder. "That was quite a spell." She shook her head, "I'm Adriel."

"Ferir."

"Thank you for saving me."

Ruben spoke then. His face was white and he looked ill, "I think perhaps I should be thanking you but we need to leave this place."

Ferir paused. It was unfair to keep him there and most questions could wait but one he thought couldn't. "You're a mage."

"Of sorts," replied Adriel.

"Take a look at this corpse, I've never seen anything like it." He walked to the man he had killed. Now the rage had passed he noticed how young the man was, probably little older than himself. Messy blonde hair showed under the hood and the face which peaked out was fine featured. Slim too, Ferir shook his head, fetcher still tried to kill me though. He bent and pulled the robe open revealing an oily mass around the wound which stretched like dark tentacles grasping the creamy skin around.

Adreil appeared behind him. He wrinkled his nose at the soft floral smell of whatever she washed with. "Looks like direct magical damage to life," she said and squinted at him with a confused look, "powerful too. Though by the way it spread... You were hit by a fireball."

"Yes but it healed."

"Then this was absorb life," she sounded confused now. "An unpleasant spell, not quite like healing."

"It hurt."

"Yes it's very harsh. Do you know the difference between healing the resurrection of flesh?"

"What?"

"I'll take that as a no. Just know that this spell is like a storm, the absorbed health restored flesh to what it should be as well as simply helping it heal. But it does so as an onslaught. Now we should leave."

"Oh," Ferir frowned.

She shrugged, "He made his choice and got what he deserved."

Ferir looked at the ruined body. "I suppose," he muttered. "Let me get my pack then we leave. I've no desire to meet more."


Adriel had the easy grace of one accustomed to the wild places. She moved through the darkened trees much like Ferir did. No magic was needed, it was a rare night that there wasn't enough light to walk by, but only if you trusted your instinct. His wry smile was hidden in the gloom. Who am I fooling? She moves far better than I do. Ruben crashed along behind them.

"My camp is near, but it should be far enough that they will not find us," she said. The arrogance in her voice mirrored her movements.

"Good," he replied. "How did you come to be there?"

"They are organising, I caught the first signs well over a year ago and have been tracking them since." She stopped at the crest of a low rise and turned. Ferir saw a smile he didn't wholly like. Then she dropped down out of sight.

Ferir followed and saw her camp. There was already a natural gouge in the landscape but a fallen tree had carved it deeper and the tangled roots obscured it from one side. Unless you fell into it it was more or less invisible. He climbed down to find it dry and surprisingly homely. The thick loam was a softer carpet than that of any noble hall and at some point someone had dragged a pair of logs in. Their bark was polished to a sheen by successive trousers. He dropped his pack and took a seat on a log.

Her smile was less disconcerting this time. "The question is more who are you?" She paused but not long enough for him to reply. "I thought guild mages to start with but that's not the case. You smell of wine, yet you dealt with those three handily. You can cast fire like that, but don't know about damaging life-force. Who stalks dark artists on a night of the shade?"

Ferir blinked in the torrent. She sounded almost angry. "We saw the light, we went to investigate."

"That doesn't tell me who you are."

"Perhaps we like going for walks in the wilds."

She tipped her head. "Very well. Most out here value privacy," she paused for a moment, "and are running from the past." Ferir frowned slightly then cursed as she nodded. "I don't understand you though. Most would retreat when a soultrap was set, especially given those present."

Ferir paused in confusion and glanced to Ruben who stared at his hands. It was impossible to know if the nord was present in more than body. Then the memory of the first spell which had hit him returned. It's apparent lack of effect beyond the deeply wrong feeling. He felt the colour drain from him. "That was a soultrap?"

Her mouth opened slightly and she glared as if seeking the lie. "Yes," she said as if it was obvious. "How can you not know that but be trained enough to cast the inferno which immolated that zombie?"

"My casting is unreliable, but that might have been the biggest. I was angry, and the magic just kept coming."

"Interesting," she said and then rummaged in her pack. "Hackle-lo?"

"Thanks," Ferir took one, "Any chance of a light? I don't trust myself not to incinerate it just now."

Adriel lit hers with a casual flick of a finger and passed it across. "Perhaps the soultrap fed your magic when you killed him. Who can truly say, you don't hear much about people killing their trapper."

Ferir coughed out a mouthful of the pungent smoke. "Wait what? I was using his soul?"

She shrugged. "Possibly."

"But..." Ferir didn't know what to say. It was too wrong, unclean somehow.

"What do you think powers the trinket you took from him?"

Ferir paused, he didn't understand enchantment.

"It's powerful, I doubt it's wielder would have worried about using a human soul to get that power."

"So someone's soul is in this?"

She smiled and chuckled. The sound made his hackles rise. "Do you know what a soul is?"

"It's... what lives beyond..." Ferir paused, did he know? "What makes you alive."

"Meaningless. You do not know what a soul is. Neither do I, nor anyone else and those who say otherwise are lying. Is there anything beyond death? Who knows, perhaps the soul holds the answer. What is known is that there is energy released upon death, whether that essence of a person dissolves into nirn to the countless aedra who form it, or becomes a ghost, or continues onward?" She shrugged, "Who knows, but if it is stolen in a soul trap whatever eternal fate awaited that person is done."

"Are they aware?"

"Ghosts often are. But in truth I know not. The guild mages do not study this area, at least not openly, and those who might know," the black smirk returned, "are not free with their information."

Ferir took the dagger and looked at it. What poor soul was in there? No, who was in there, imprisoned. Trapped from ending their voyage.

"Do not look so grim. Power comes at a cost, and that is a powerful artefact."

"A blade forged with someone's soul, with the purpose of consuming life and gifting it to the wielder? That must be wrong."

"It saved you did it not. Without it you would be facing that same fate, and the necromancer free to continue."

Ruben sat up slowly. His voice was heavy when it came. "Such tools want to be used. Give a man a hammer and he hits things, what will that make of you?"

"Better than the case without. You kill an enemy, what of it if you benefit from his death?"

"A dangerous path."

"You chose to meddle in the affairs of wizards," she spoke to Ferir not Ruben, "You need all the advantage you can get. Do not throw it away idly."

Ferir nodded. "Perhaps, I would not be worried if it consumed them with fire, so why worry if it heals me?"

Adriel's unnerving smile answered him.

"You said the necromancers are gathering."

"The guild outlawed them, even you must know that. The logical step was to form their own guild, outwith the constraints of morality and the law."

"Sounds charming."

The smile flickered over her features again. "I suspect there is more, however it is hard to find out much and those who watch them are few and disorganised."

Silence fell. Ruben glared at the ground. Ferir was slightly surprised at the urge to comfort the man, whatever had happened those years ago he knew he hadn't heard all of it. He was just as sure that there would be no getting through to it while Adriel was around. There was something unsettling about her. Something he didn't understand, or like entirely.

"So what about you? You're not guild, but you track them."

"I track them because someone has to. It used to be a few in old ruins. If some fool thought they could handle them and went in too deep they got what they deserved. But the cult is different, they hunt, and disturb the balance. Perhaps I am too caring, perhaps those who live in the backcountry deserve to die if they cannot manage there. But many have no choice, and it is not always death which finds them."

"What of you?"

"What of me?"

"Who are you? It's clear enough you know magic, and you're not guild."

"You know well enough they don't control it." Scorn. That was what was layered into the smile, the steel edge Ferir had half noticed in her tone. "What am I? The guild would say a hedge mage, and true enough I practise and study without their remit, but do not be fooled into thinking I lack power. Some might say I'm a witch but that term has just as little meaning, or perhaps too many. A wise woman? Or am I too young? A soothsayer, for I watch the augers." She paused the smile was fuller this time, she was enjoying it. "Perhaps I am just a woman who is too fond of her own voice."

Ferir nodded and yawned. The adrenaline had worn off and exhaustion had replaced it.

"Quite, it is time for rest. It would be unwise to tarry tomorrow." Without another word she rose and made her way to a bedroll.

With her back turned Ferir allowed himself his own wry grin. He was going to sleep with one eye open that night.