[X] My Assistant

[Jacki Dice]

This is a little something I've been toying with for awhile. I've decided to bring it out to the forums here. This story will include the original version of Kalila Blackstone, from Madness Helps me Save Myself. This version of her has absolutely no ties to the one borrowed in the story.

Speaking of, Madness Helps me Save Myself will continue as planned. Sometimes working on something separate for a while soothes my writer's block.

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1

“That which is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil.�
--Friedrich Nietzsche

In a perfect world, it would have been an assassin. Or maybe a bandit. It would be someone who was out to hurt her, who justifiably deserved to die. However, as Tara Karminova clutched her dagger to her chest, she knew it would be no such person. The world was too imperfect.

She looked around the dark alleys of the Imperial City Market District for someone no one would miss. Guilt weighed in her heart for even thinking that. Did someone’s life have less value just because they had no one to miss them? Of course not. But, she needed someone whose death wouldn’t prompt a thorough investigation. Maybe a skooma addict.

Oh, dear gods, what am I doing? She leaned against the wall of one of the shops. Her heart was no longer fluttering and her stomach no longer churned. Instead, she seemed to simply accept it. That was what scared her. “It’s for Clarissa,� she reminded herself. “It’s for her.� She clenched the grip of her dagger tightly and continued lurking through the alleys.

At first she thought she had blended in quite well with the street urchins in the Imperial City. She simply threw on an old, dirty robe that had torn a little on the bottom. Her brown hair was unbrushed and thrown back in a messy bun. Once she saw the beggars in person, however, she realized how far off she was. Their clothes weren’t just dirty, they were barely intact enough to keep them out of prison for indecent exposure. None of them wore the soft cotton that she was in. They appeared to be stitched together from odd pieces of fabric and sackcloth. Tara was also far too healthy looking. Her cheeks were somewhat plump and the robe hugged her frame tightly, revealing that she didn’t often go hungry. The beggars were nothing but skin and bones. The biggest difference was their eyes. Tara could easily tell who had lived on the street by the hardness or loss of hope in their eyes. There was no way for her to imitate them in that way.

She turned behind the Copious Coinpurse into a small garden. It was empty save for a young woman sleeping on the ground. Tara crept toward her, running her finger over the black soul gem stashed in her pocket. It would have been much easier to cast some sort of spell on her, but Tara thought a stabbing would look far more ordinary than magic.

The girl stirred slightly as Tara approached. Tara straddled her and turned her on her back. She was pretty. She had quite a young face. She was probably no more than nineteen. Tara hesitated for a moment before raising her hand. A violet flash erupted from her fist and washed over the girl. Once that was done she took out the dagger and plunged it into the girl.

The girl opened her eyes wide as blood oozed onto Tara. A scream rose from her throat and Tara quickly covered the girl’s mouth with her free hand, stabbing again and again until the girl stopped moving. She wished she had known where to plunge for a more painless and instant death. That part of her research had been overlooked. Tara took out the soul gem and was satisfied with the glow of the girl’s soul.

She got up and panted, staring at the girl’s body. Did she have parents? A sister? Probably not, since she had been sleeping there alone. Still, Tara was overcome with mixed emotions.

“It’s for Clarissa,� she said to herself.



Tara had to hold in her disgust as she stared upon Clarissa’s corpse.

Three years had passed since Clarissa Blackstone’s murder and time had not been kind. Clarissa’s skin was gone for the most part, only remaining in small patches. On the pieces of skin around her temples, sat dry tufts of her once luxurious black hair, though the slightest brush would turn it to dust. Her bones were not white, like the models shown at the Arcane University. Instead they were a filthy brown. The sockets that once held beautiful grey eyes were now empty and covered by a paper thin layer of skin. The gown she had been buried in had long since been eaten away. Though she went out and bought a new robe, Tara did not look forward to redressing her. Logically that shouldn’t have bothered her any more than digging Clarissa up or even setting her body on the kitchen table.

Tara wanted to pass the time doing something other than staring at Clarissa, but she was unable to take her eyes off of her. She was repulsed but fascinated at the same time. When she finally tore her eyes away, she decided to head into the basement to distract herself.

Just yesterday, the basement was full of alchemical equipment. The shelves had been lined with empty bottles and crates full of filled ones ready to be sent off to the different Mages Guild halls. Jars of ingredients sat along the windows. Now it was empty. The windows were boarded. A metal collar attached to a long chain sat in the center of the room. Tara picked it up and tugged it with all her strength. It held fast to the wall. She sighed deeply and dusted off her hands. Hopefully it would withstand the added strength of the undead.

She took a broom from a corner and started sweeping. Clarissa still deserves cleanliness, she thought. But the basement was usually kept neat and there was nothing much to sweep. She finished in seconds. She looked at the Mages Guild banners still hanging on the walls. Her eyes welled up with tears. How could she still keep those up knowing what she was going to do? How could she ever look at Arch-Mage Traven in the eye again?

With a trembling hand, she took the banners down. She tried telling herself that it was to keep them from getting ruined, but deep down she knew it was because she felt unworthy.

When she returned upstairs she was pleased to see that the hourglass was nearly empty. It was time.

For something so complex, it was strange that it was so simple to accomplish. She had imagined an elaborate ritual involving candles and conjuring. Strangely, the hardest part had been obtaining the soul gem. That and getting the soul. She closed her eyes, forcing away the image of the girl she had killed. She couldn’t afford to think about it. All spells, complex or not, required confidence and concentration.

Her home along the Lake Rumare was close enough to hear the temple bell from the Imperial City. As it rang twelve times, Tara placed the soul gem directly over where Clarissa’s heart had been. She focused on the soul inside, transferring it the way she would to an item.

The soul was stubborn. Even in death, it resisted Tara’s demand, almost as if it knew that it would cease to exist as itself. Tara trembled violently. Her heart pounded hard and she broke into a sweat. The soul would cooperate. It had no choice.

Tara grunted hard when the soul finally entered Clarissa. She panted heavily as the gem crumbled into dust, falling into Clarissa’s bare rib cage.

Clarissa’s eyelids fluttered. She sat up, turning her face toward Tara. Though the sockets were empty, she could feel the intense stare going straight through her. Tara backed up instantly. Would Clarissa remember? Or would she react with hostility? Clarissa opened her mouth, though the only sound that escaped was a dry crackle. Her body wouldn’t return to a normal living being until she received more souls.

“Clarissa,� Tara whispered. “Do you remember me?� She took a step forward. “I’m your sister.�

Clarissa tilted her head back and forth. A chunk of skin plopped on the floor causing a surge of bile to rise in Tara’s throat. She swallowed it back down and forced herself to ignore it.

“Everything is okay now,� she said. “You’re back home now.�

She held out her hand. Clarissa ignored it, seeming to be more confused than anything.

“She’s just in shock,� Tara said to herself. She glanced at the robe. She decided to put it on her when she had more skin as there was nothing really to cover.

She led Clarissa into the basement and locked the collar around her neck. “This is just to keep you safe. When you’re back to normal you can have your old room back. I’ll even get you into the Arcane University like you always wanted.� She sighed, not knowing why she said that. That wouldn’t be possible. Everyone knew that Clarissa had been dead a long time.

Clarissa crackled again, though Tara doubted that she understood anything she had been saying anyway. No need to feel like a liar, right? she wondered. “I’m going to go clean upstairs and then I’ll have to fix up your grave outside. I can’t have it looking like it’s been recently disturbed. I’ll be back soon.�

Once she was back in the living room, she locked the basement door and then placed a plank of wood in front of it. She couldn’t chance Clarissa getting out into the open. She would be killed on sight. Tara couldn’t have that. She refused to lose her twice.

She immediately set out sweeping up the living room and kitchen. There was so much dirt. Too much. Should any guild mates come for a visit, she felt it would cause immediate suspicion. Maybe it was just paranoia, but at the same time, her sudden insistence to work from her home instead of the guild halls already seemed strange. Sure, months had passed since then, the nagging feeling remained stuck in her mind.

Though it had to be done, she couldn’t keep her mind on her task. She felt drained. She sank to her knees staring at the basement door. She could hear Clarissa shuffling faintly, the chain jingling with her every movement. She glanced at the turquoise banner on the wall bearing the Mages Guild symbol. Her life as she knew it was over. She wept.



This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 07:08 AM

[mALX]

*

This chapter was amazing in so many ways! Over everything was Kalila's inner thoughts through the battle and especially afterward - and the tremendous battle itself! You brought that quest to life with this account of it, HUGE write!

Two things I loved as well = (1) :

What would Tara do? Her older sister wasn’t a fighter, but she was always a good moral compass.

Tara's moral compass may be a little skewed since Clarissa's death, so the irony of that statement really struck home - LOVED that !!!

(2) :

The "alarm clock" hourglass - loved that !!!

Awesome write, you are back full power with this chapter! AWESOME WRITE !!!!!!

[Jacki Dice]

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Chapter Twelve: Two

Tara did not speak to the woman named Ocheeva. She didn’t enter the abandoned house in Cheydinhal. In fact, she didn’t even set foot in Cheydinhal. After murdering the man named Rufio, she went straight home and collapsed on the couch. Days had passed before she felt clean again.

As the next few weeks flew by, Tara buried herself in work. She had agreed to go to the Arcane University twice weekly to assist younger students with conjuration and then there were research papers to do. Honestly, those were her favorite. Even as a child, Tara read anything and everything she could get her hands on.

Before she knew it, the next new moons came. The stars shined even brighter in their absence. So did Tara's eyes.

Clarissa was lead out into the backyard. It was her first time outside since being dug up from the dirt. It was a little odd seeing the girl standing over her own grave. Clarissa didn’t wander off at all. In fact, she just plopped herself right on the soil under the marker.

Almost as if she knows that’s where she belongs… Tara thought with a chill.

“Alright,” she said, taking out the black soul gem. “Let’s get started.”

Tara stood over Clarissa with the soul gem in both hands. With Rufio as ornery as he had been before, Tara expected resistance. Sure enough, when coaxing the soul out of the gem and into Clarissa, Tara felt as if she were extracting a tooth from a daedroth. She had actually broken into a greasy sweat and once his soul was finally separated from the gem, Tara grunted as if she had been lifting the physical man instead of his admittedly corrupted soul.

Clarissa glowed violet momentarily before the evidence of the new soul showed. The bones on her face were no longer so visible. More dry tufts of hair appeared over her head, though it was still very wispy. A layer of skin grew up to where her lips would eventually return. The paper-like skin covered a little more of the rest of her body, though her torso was still most bone. Not a shred of organs rested in her. Much to Tara’s disappointment, her eye sockets remained empty. Clarissa opened her mouth and crackled softly.

Well, what did she expect? It was only the second month. Tara sighed and took Clarissa by the hand. “Let’s get you back inside before a wolf decides to steal your femur or something.”



Though now given Rufio’s soul, Clarissa seemed as normal as the circumstances allowed. She seemed no more aware of her surroundings than she had been the day before. Upon returning to the basement, she sat on the floor and just crackled to herself. Tara watched for awhile before placing the chains back on her. She then went upstairs for a glass of wine.

Two down, eleven to go, she thought as she sat alone in the living room. A deep seed of disappointment remained in the pit of her stomach. She knew she shouldn’t have expected much, but she was looking forward to so much, so soon.

Even if logically she knew it wasn’t her fault, she kept wishing that there was more she could do to speed up the process. As the first wine glass turned to the third, she was near insistent that it had to be a flaw in her magic skill. Maybe she wasn’t getting the entire soul out of the gem. Or perhaps it wasn’t the soul that brought back the physical form, but the desire of the caster. She groaned. She did want it! There was nothing in the world that she wanted more than to look into those big gray eyes again! Two murders proved that point already!

Yet… she had to admit that she was scared of getting found out. Two decades of blood, sweat, and tears had gone into the Mages Guild. If the found so much as a black soul gem on her, that was it! She would be driven out. Clarissa would be killed all over again… maybe she would too. Could that fear subconsciously be holding her back?

“Oh, gods…” She said in a hushed whisper. Tara couldn’t allow that to be true. She stood up straight and marched right to the mirror in her bedroom. Her feet were spread to her shoulder's width and her hands were firmly on her hips. It was a pose that reminded her very much of Kalila. “Listen up," she said. "Whatever it is, you need to just get right over it. No matter what, you need to keep going. This is bigger…” Her voice cracked. “Bigger than the Guild. This is for your family, dammit.” The confident pose vanished and was replaced by a slump. “But I am trying!" She sighed. "It’s not a matter of not wanting it!” She turned away and threw herself in bed. Had this been any other problem, she could have gone to the Guild for advice.

If only there were a guild for necromancers…

Well… She sat back up. There were plenty of Necromancer Cults scattered around, right? She snorted. As if any of them would help her. They would probably be more than happy to chop her up and feed her to their thralls.

Who else?

The ebony dagger given to her by Lucien caught her eye. Would the Dark Brotherhood know? She doubted it. Their business was death, not reversing it. Still…. scumbags helped other scumbags, didn’t they? Maybe it was time to go visit Ocheeva afterall.

[Grits]

Jacki Dice, you have made me a very happy reader with this update! Clarissa is fascinating and chilling with her dry bones, papery skin, and crackling. Tara’s dilemma as she descends into darkness for the sake of love tugs the heart. I love this story!

[haute ecole rider]

What a great excuse to start the Dark Brotherhood quest line! If Tara needs - what - eleven more souls, what better way to turn assassin than via the DB? If she tried this on her own, wouldn't it turn the DB on her?

Keep going, I like how this story is so dark and yet rooted in love for a lost sister

[SubRosa]

I have not been keeping up with this and Madness as well as I would like. Let me start changing that by at least catching up here.

Almost as if she knows that’s where she belongs… Tara thought with a chill.
This was a wonderful passage. Especially because it shows that Tara too, knows that this is where Clara belongs.

“Let’s get you back inside before a wolf decides to steal your femur or something.”
Like the Grateful Dead video for Touch Of Grey, when the dog steals the drummer's leg!

Maybe it is time to go visit Lucien after all. Now that is a chilling thought to end the post upon.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 27 2014, 12:58 AM

[Jacki Dice]

Grits~ I am happy to be updating and working on this again!

haute ecole rider~ The Dark Brotherhood does make it fit very well and the walking skeleton that wanders the area brings some ideas, though I'll let you all see those soon.

SubRosa~ I'll have to check out that video! That's usually my thought when I see the rats and the zombies hanging out. Like one would want to nibble on the other, right?

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Chapter Thirteen: Cheydinhal

Tara heard many times that the Mages Guild in Morrowind could teleport members from one guild to another. She found herself wishing such magic could work in Cyrodiil. Most scholars agreed that the mysterious magic in White Gold tower kept teleportation magic from working. It wouldn’t do if someone could just teleport into the Emperor’s chambers and behead him in his sleep. She sighed thinking about it. It would be such a time saver, instead of having to take a carriage to Cheydinhal.

When the gates to Cheydinal opened, Tara couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of home. The Cheydinhal Mages Guild was her destination after graduating from the Arcane University. It was the first and only time in her life that she had not been charged with the care of her younger half-sisters or her mother’s lakeside home. Her time there had been sublimely independent.

She wasn’t sure if she should stop by the guildhall. Falcar, the guildmaster, was a horrible, cantankerous old coot. He was quick to criticize in the most brutal and condescending of ways. Tara knew of several good mages that either transferred to a guildhall out of Cyrodill or quit entirely because of him. Just thinking of some of the things he said made Tara’s blood boil. Her reason for being there was bad enough without him making things worse.

The abandoned house by the eastern wall… Tara thought. The part of town east of the river was locally known as “Ash-town” because of the concentration of Dunmer in the area. Before, Tara’s only business in Ash-town had been the food. She could smell the spices from the city gates and she laughed a little, wondering how she ever managed to get any work done with such an effective distraction. With that thought in mind, she headed over to Ash-town for a quick bite.

Both sides of town had similar architecture. The lower halves of the buildings were generally stone with wood framing while the tops were coated in white clay. The roofs had a concave curve to them as they reached their points. Even the parts of town that were less ornate were made of similar design, though on a smaller scale. In Ash-town, however, some houses or businesses hung flags with different patterns. Most of the words on them were in Dunmeri and Tara only knew the swears and very basic phrases.

After stopping in a cornerclub, as the Dunmer called them, Tara took a seat under a large tree with her plate. It was piled with deep fried sliced yams, fruit with chili powder sprinkled on top, flat dough with meat and cheese baked inside topped with pickled cabbage, onions, and carrots and a hot sauce for dipping, with a bottle of cold comberry juice. For the longest time, she tried to re-create Dunmeri dishes at home but either Clarissa found it way too spicy or the food was just too expensive to have imported. Maybe as Clarissa’s tongue literally developed, Tara could train her tolerance for spicy food. Or maybe not. A zombie flailing around because the food was too spicy would be a horrid sight. Daedra and Divines, she might even rip out her tongue in an act of desperation! The thought of having to sew it back in almost made Tara lose her appetite.

Almost.



There was a house on a lonely street that no one would enter. The windows were all boarded up, though the glass peeked out between the wood. The windows were so dirty that Tara couldn’t see inside. A few stones had fallen out of place, leaving gaps in the walls. Words written in Dunmeri were painted on the door, along with a few malevolent symbols. It was such a contrast to the rest of Cheydinal’s perfect story book houses.

If people had to pass it, prayers were whispered. Voices lowered and heads bowed. Some, usually teenagers, attempted to slip in but all nerve was lost and soon enough, they would come running out.

The official story was a case of the corprus disease brought over from Morrowind. A notice was pinned to the door, written in both Tamrielic and Dunmeri, that the house was contaminated with spores carrying the horrific disease. Everyone knew that was false, but no one argued it.

For once, Tara regretted her plate of food as she stood at the door. The pit of her stomach began to twist and churn violently as she put her hand on the knob. She looked around to make sure that no one had seen here before twisting the knob and slipping inside.

The door scraped loudly against the dusty tile as she closed it. With a flick of her wrist, a bright orb appeared in front of Tara, lighting her way. A few scattered footprints led to a door across the room. A few tapestries hung on the wall, though they were so neglected that she couldn’t see what they had been. Cobwebs were everywhere. The urge to clean was almost overwhelming. Tara wasn’t sure if she would have preferred to come in contact with corprus or this disaster!

Careful not to touch anything, Tara made her way to the basement. She wouldn’t even hold the handrail as she carefully descended the rickety stairs. It didn’t seem possible, but the basement was even worse. Not only did she sneeze a hundred times due to the dust and molds, it smelled of animal waste and death. Sure enough, she noticed a decaying rat under the stairs.

By the Nine, what sort of people were these? How could they stand seeing this every time they came in? Had they no dignity? Tara recalled hearing about a rival guild of assassins in Morrowind. She had a feeling that they wouldn’t stand for this filth. The fleeting thought of trying to join them floated through her head before she shook it violently. Divines, was she losing it, fretting over which guild of thugs to join up with? What would Kalila think of her if she knew? The fried yams threatened to snake up her esophagus before she forced it back down.

Tara continued on until she was faced with a door that glowed blood red when she approached it. A large skull was the center, with a dark handprint in the forehead. A woman was depicted , looking down at four smaller figures. The woman seemed to be holding a dagger and a hammer in her hands. There was no knob nor handle. Tara hesitated before placing her hand in the print. It glowed at her touch.

“What is the color of night?”

The whispering voice made her shriek. The orb of light puffed away, leaving her alone in the bloody glow. Her heart was thudding so quickly that it sent painful waves through her limbs and she wouldn’t have been surprised if it burst, leaving her dead on the floor.

When she finally regained composure, she looked back at the door. That question must have been the key. The more she thought of it, the more sense it made to use this sort of magical lock instead of a physical one. So all she had to do was answer the question. She remembered Lucien telling her what to say, but it was so long ago that the specific words were a blur.

Placing her hand back in the indentation, she spoke. “Black.”

The door remained shut. She thought that would be far too obvious, but people often said that the simplest answer was usually the right one.

“Blue...Purple.”

Nothing happened for either color.

She stood there for a moment. “Red?” She studied the glow of the door. That was it, but not that color. As much as she did not want to picture that man’s face, she closed her eyes to try and summon the memory.

“Sanguine, my brother,” she said, slowly opening her eyes.

“Welcome home,” the voice said lovingly.

[haute ecole rider]

Normally I don't do the DB quests (have done it only twice), but I remember how that sinister welcome by the mysterious door made me feel, well, home. Good job bringing that curious emotion back for me!

I also loved the description of Ash-Town! It really brings home the fact that Cheydinhal is almost in Morrowind, what with a Dunmer Count and being so close to the eastern border of Cyrodiil.

[Grits]

What an excellent notion that the White Gold Tower inhibits teleportation. I love game quirks explained in a story.

Tara’s Cheydinhal was both familiar and excitingly expanded with Ash-Town and the spicy food. I love the Dunmer influence you give it. The food sounds amazing! I’ll have a plate of chili-lime mangos, please.

Corprus contamination, brilliant! You evoked that first nervous creep through the abandoned house so perfectly. Well done! And yikes, now Tara is “home”…

[Jacki Dice]

haute ecole rider~ Thank you~ I've done the DB quests in all my playthroughs and I was pleasantly surprised by the creepiness of that door! I'm glad I was able to bring that here

Grits~ Cheydinhal is my favorite town and I am loving bringing it to life with all the Dunmer influence. And something tells me that their food would have a lot of spice to it... and it makes me a bit hungry for some fruit and chili powder~

~~~~~

Tara

~~~~~♦~~~~~

Chapter Fourteen: Family

At least it was clean.

Tara was pleasantly surprised by the interior. As it was underground, there were no windows, but candles sitting in amber scones bathed the room in warm light. As Tara took a few slow steps in, she caught a sweet scent in the air. After a few moments, she recognized it as incense and… cake?

Why did she smell cake? Couldn’t be.

She turned the corner and nearly shrieked again. Tara was face to face with skeleton in a suit of leather armor. It stood up and opened its mouth, letting out that now-familiar crackle. It silenced itself and that was when Tara noticed the large axe in its hand.

“Wait…” Tara said, immediately putting up her hands, though she wasn’t sure if it would understand the gesture.

Never in her life did she think she would feel so happy to see an animated skeleton. The bright feeling blossoming in her stomach almost made her giddy. Someone here had to have brought this skelton to life. Maybe she was in the right place after all! Of course, that depended on if this skeleton would attack.

Luckily, it didn’t raise its weapon. Instead, it turned away and let out a long crackle. A door opened and an Argonian woman appeared. “Aeron, what is it?” She asked. Then she set her large orange eyes on Tara. “Oh!” She approached with open arms. “Welcome, sister!” Before she could say anything, Tara was pulled into a tight squeeze.

“Let me look at you,” the Argonian said, releasing her from the hug, but keeping both hands on Tara’s shoulders.

Tara looked her over in return. The Argonian’s head had three small horns on each side, with a beaded cloth draping along the back of her head. She was dressed in the same armor as the skeleton, though hers was in much better condition.

“You must be Tara Karminova,” she finally said. “Lucien told me about you weeks ago. We weren’t sure if something had happened to you along the way.”

Tara just shook her head. She didn’t recall giving Lucien her first name, let alone her last name.

“My name is Ocheeva,” she said. “It’s so wonderful to have you here. Normally, I would start with a tour of the Sanctuary but we were just about to sit down for dinner. Won’t you join us?”

It took Tara a moment to find her voice. “I just ate,” she said.

“At least have some cake,” Ocheeva insisted. “Telaendril just baked one and her cakes just melt in your mouth! You’ll see!” Before Tara could object, Ocheeva took her by the hand and lead her to the room she had been in.

“Divines…” Tara breathed as she was brought to the dining area. The table and chairs were made of beautiful cocobolo wood. The red finish was illuminated by the several candles in the room. Several places at the table were set, with the meal in the center. From what Tara could tell, dinner was a large roast, several rolls, a garden salad, and mashed potatoes. A few bottles of shein were next to a set of wine glasses.

Tapestries featuring a black hand were hung around the room, but the featured painting was of a lush valley, with a river running down the middle. It was so realistic that it was almost like looking outside.

Ocheeva left her for a moment to ring a silver bell. “Everyone, I have wonderful news,” Ocheeva called out. “Our sister has finally come home!” When she returned to Tara, she placed her arm warmly around her shoulders. “Let me introduce everyone.”

The first one in was a tall man in fine black silk clothing. His long brown hair was tied in a ponytail, though a few graying curls hung at his face. What drew Tara’s attention were his eyes.They were a beautiful hazel, but something about them just dew Tara in. It wasn’t until he smiled at her that she realized he was a vampire.

The vampire took her hand and lightly pressed it to his lips. “Warmest greetings to you,” he said, releasing her hand. Tara’s eyes were wide and she looked to Ocheeva, who was just beaming. “I am Vicente Valtieri,” he continued. “I provide assignments for all new family members, but we’ll discuss that when the time is right.” He paused for a minute before leaning in a smiling gently. “Please do not let my appearance...unnerve you. The needs and tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my own needs as a vampire.”

Tara wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t know what those needs or tenets were yet, but she wasn’t confident enough to promise herself safety.

With a light clap on her shoulder he moved on to the table. “Looks wonderful, Ocheeva,” he said. “I see these potatoes are separate from the others,” he lifted a small bowl. “This is mine, I’m assuming?”

“Yes, those are made especially for you,” Ocheeva nodded. “He’s very sensitive to garlic,” she explained to Tara.

The next one to greet Tara was a young woman. She was no older than Kalila, though judging by her bubbly demeanor, that would be Tara’s only reminder of her. “Welcome, dear sister!” Tara was pulled into another big hug. Tara lightly patted her back in return. She smelled of strongly of peaches. Really, if Tara hadn’t been in the Dark Brotherhood’s lair, she would never have guessed the girl to be a hired killer. Even her outfit, a colorful sundress, seemed impossibly out of place. “So good to finally meet you! My name is Antoinetta Marie!” With a grin at Ocheeva, Antoinetta joined Vincente at the table.

The next one kept his hands to himself. He was a bald Orc in a full suit of armor that clanged with every step. “Welcome!” He boomed. “Welcome to the family! I'd hug you, but Ocheeva told me not to.”

Tara immediately noticed that he was holding hands with a Bosmer. She hugged her tighly enough for both of them. “Warmest welcomes to you,” she said. “I am Telaendril, wood elf and loyal daughter of Sithis and this is Gogron gro-Bolmog. I hope you find our Sanctuary to your liking.”

Tara pursed her lips for a moment. “It’s very warm,” she said.

An orange furred Khajiit came next. Tara didn’t recognize him, but his green and blue robes made her wonder if he was a fellow mage. Perhaps out of everyone here, he would be one that she could connect to. “If it isn't the newest member of the ‘family,’” he said in a sneer that immediately dashed Tara’s hopes. “Let's get one thing straight. The Tenets prevent me from killing you. But I don't have to like you. I'll sell you equipment, but only because Ocheeva is making me. This family doesn't need any outsiders.” With that, he shoved himself past Tara and went to the table.

Argonians were not known for their expressiveness, but Tara could see that Ocheeva was fuming. “M'raaj-Dar,” she hissed. “I’m so sorry about him. He’s a real piece of work sometimes. He lacks understanding of how we like our sanctuary to operate. If he gives you trouble, you let me know.”

Tara sighed softly. Maybe it was for the best. With each friendly greeting, she noticed that she was beginning to return the fuzzy feelings. M’raaj-Dar’s coldness reminded her of where she was.

The final member to greet her was an Argonian man. He and Ocheeva greeted each other first and though he didn’t hug Tara, he was just as kind as everyone else had been. "I welcome you to our family, and this Sanctuary,” he said. “I am Teinaava. May you find yourself at home here, in the loving embrace of our Lady the Night Mother."

“That’s everyone,” Ocheeva said with a relieved sigh. “Come, let’s eat before dinner gets cold.

“Oh, but I already…” Tara gave up the argument as Ocheeva sat her down next to Antoinetta and across from Vicente. She grinned and waved. Tara hesitated, but waved back.

“This morning, something told me that today would be special,” Ocheeva said over the quieting chatter. “And now our sister has finally come home. Before we eat, Tara, let’s formally welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood.”

She picked a book off a shelf and opened it up.

“Tara Karminova, you have been brought here by our Speaker, Lucien LaChance. With Lucien, you signed a covenant. The manner of execution, your signature and in the shed blood, the ink.”

There were nods and murmurs of approval that made Tara want to just disappear.

“Know this,” Ocheeva continued. “Every Dark Brother and Sister is a child of Sithis. He whom we call Sithis has many other names. Chaos. Doom. Discord. Sithis is the Void. We of the Dark Brotherhood serve the Night Mother, who is the bride of Sithis. The Night Mother rules her children with a terrible Black Hand. The Black Hand is the ruling body of the Dark Brotherhood. It is made up of one Listener and Four Speakers. As a member of the Dark Brotherhood, you must abide by the Five Tenets. They are the laws that guide and protect us.

“The Five Tenets are as follows: Tenet Number One, never dishonor the Night Mother. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Tenet Number Two, never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Tenet Number Three, never disobey or refuse to carry out an order from a Dark Brotherhood superior. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Tenet Number Four, never steal the possessions of a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Tenet Number Five, never kill a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis.

“Tara Karminova, do you solemnly swear to uphold these five tenets and dedicate your life to the Dark Brotherhood and your family?”

Her family…. Kalila, Clarissa, her mother, and Aidan. This was going to be a necessary evil to continue dedicating her life to her family. Besides, she thought. If I need to kill anyway, I may as well make some money for it.

“I swear,” Tara said softly.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Aug 1 2014, 03:36 AM

[SubRosa]

Neat world-building with the explanation that White Gold Tower is what keeps teleportation magic from working in Cyrodiil. I liked the addition of Ashtown to Cheydinhal as well. The Dunmer flags with their weird bug symbols on them were neat, as was the cornerclub, ash-yams, etc...

I am smiling at the thought of zombie Clarissa flailing around because the food is too spicy!

I also love the description of Freddy's house on Elm Street, and Tara's indignation over their poor housekeeping!

At least the inside of the Sanctuary is nicer. And Cake!

Now Tara is part of Sithis' big happy psychotic family. I wonder how things will work out now? I get the feeling they are not really going to improve.

[Grits]

Cake! These people can’t be so bad.

I love Tara’s reaction to the “living” skeleton. She’s looking for hope in the DB sanctuary!

Antoinetta Marie’s sundress and peach scent made me grin. I love the character that you’re giving the assassins.

[Jacki Dice]

SubRosa~ Thank you~ I was trying to figure out how to explain no teleportation magic. I thought of banning it, but skooma is banned to so...


Grits~ They were all so nice (except M'Raaj-Dar) so I like playing with that aspect. It's not something expected of assassins

~~~~~♦~~~~~

Chapter Fifteen: The Sanctuary

Though Tara reminded her yet again that she had already eaten, Ocheeva piled her plate with several slices of meat and scoops of the mashed potatoes, which Ocheeva said had been cooked with homemade garlic butter. She was a little less smothering with the rolls and salad. At first, Tara was sure that she wouldn’t be able to finish such a heaped plate, but seeing how the meat fell apart so easily into its own gravy helped encourage her hunger.

“Ocheeva is like a big mother hen,” Antoinetta said, giggling a little. “So you may as well get used to this! I wish my own mother had been as doting…”

Tara just nodded and ate as much as she could. Surprisingly, it tasted just like a home cooked meal. In fact, between dinner and Aiden’s cooking, Tara would find it hard to tell the difference. She managed to clean most of her plate, much to Ocheeva’s obvious pleasure. After some chocolate cake, which was shockingly moist, Tara was given the grand tour.

“You’ve seen the dining hall, obviously,” Ocheeva said, leading her into the next room. “This is the common room.”

Judging by the warmth of the dining room, Tara had expected something just as homey. She wasn’t disappointed. There were a few red couches, complete with matching cushions. A black hand was embroidered on each. There were several paintings on the walls. One of Cheydinhal at sunrise, one of an old woman with an otherworldly beauty, one of a meadow of flowers, one of the beach at night.

What really caught Tara’s breath were the lines of bookshelves taking up an entire wall. A plush burgundy armchair and matching footrest sat next to them, along with a few floor cushions. Tara couldn’t help immediately wandering off to inspect the titles.

Ocheeva chuckled softly. “I see we have another bookworm in our midst. Vincente brought a good deal of those along with him when he made the Sanctuary his home.”

Tara could see the age on some of them. It made her almost a little disappointed that she wouldn’t be living there. Imagining what she would find in some of those ancient books made her mind race.

“Next, we have the training room,” Ocheeva said, when Tara rejoined her. “Let’s see…” She paused, looking her over. “Let me see your hands…” She held them up, checking the backs and front. “I’d have to guess that you’re a mage. Am I right?”

Tara nodded. “I mean, I don’t fight really, but I am a mage.” Tara suddenly felt a little vulnerable. It wouldn’t be wise for a toothless lion to reveal his gummy mouth to a bunch of tigers, would it? That thought also was what reminded her not to go bragging about her rank in the Mages Guild. The less they knew about her, the better, right? No matter how nice they seemed, these people were killers for hire and they could destroy her without resorting to murder.

“Not to worry,” Ocheeva said. “In a way, your magic will come in handy. Cast a nice silencer spell and maybe one of paralysis and your victim will be clay in your hands.” She laughed some more. Tara started to feel a little queasy.

“And of course, we’re all here to help in any way we can. That includes M’Raaj-Dar. He’s also a mage, so he might be able to teach you a few tricks.”

Tara doubted that. She’d rather go ask Falcar for help and she’d rather pull a sore tooth from a daedroth than do that!

“And last,” Ocheeva said, entering a hall on the other side of the training room. “Here are the bedrooms.”

The hall was lined with gold tinted glass cradling welkynd stones. A few doors went down to the end. Even the hall had an impossible warmth to it. Her own house was more sinister than the Sanctuary! Tara wasn’t sure if she should be comforted or ashamed.

“There aren’t many rooms, I’m afraid,” Ocheeva said. “Perhaps once one of our neighbors move, we can look into expanding.”

Why not just kill them and take the place? Tara caught herself wondering. She immediately chastised herself for such a dark thought.

She followed Ocheeva to the third door from the end of the hall. Ocheeva unlocked it and stepped aside for Tara to enter. “Luckily Telaendril and Gogron have decided to move in together, so that’s a spare but we may have to start doubling up when we get too many members. Don’t worry, people join us far less frequently than other guilds.”

The room was rather ordinary. It was much smaller than her room back at her home and though there was a beautiful painting of a sunrise over Lake Rumare, it didn’t quite make up for the lack of a window. The full sized bed was at the wall, all made up with soft floral patterned blankets. A sprig of lavender rested on the pillow. A dresser with a large mirror was on the opposite side, next to a bookshelf ready to be filled.

“I don’t want to presume,” Ocheeva said as Tara looked around. “But it doesn’t seem as if you have any…. belongings with you.”

Tara took a breath and turned to face her. “Well, I never planned on staying.” When she saw a slight change in Ocheeva’s eyes, she quickly added, “It’s all very lovely. I never would have imagined it this way, but I can’t live here. I have someone at home to care for.”

“A child?”

“Yes. I mean, not mine. She’s my sister. It’s very complicated. You have no… She’s the entire reason I…. I mean, I couldn’t just leave her.” She stopped, realizing that she was rambling and with every word making things more cluttered than they had to be.

“That’s a shame,” Ocheeva said. “It’s a lot easier when you’re close by. Would it be possible to move to Cheydinhal? You could stay with her as needed and still come here.”

Tara shook her head. “She’s not…. well. She isn’t in any condition to travel.”

“What about your parents? Couldn’t they care for her?”

“Our mother is out of the country on business and I do not know who my father is.” Tara didn’t feel the need to disclose that they had different fathers. “Besides, she needs very specific treatment. I’m the only one who can help. I’m sorry, Ocheeva, but I need to be with her.”

Ocheeva nodded. “I see. At least stay the night. It’s late and a pretty girl like you shouldn’t travel alone at night. In the morning, we can get you measured for a suit and maybe we can get you started with shade repressing spells.”

As always, the talk of magic made her ears perk a little. “Shade repressing?”

“Well, in case you… ah… well, you don’t make it back from a mission, we need to ensure that in the event that your shade is summoned, you don’t inadvertently reveal any secrets. It’s standard procedure. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. We can also go over the logistics of jobs and payment. Goodnight, sister.” With that, Ocheeva nodded and closed the door.

Tara looked around the room once more before sighing deeply. She came to Cheydinhal expecting to be hip deep in a nest of bloodthirsty people only a slight bit more civilized than the average goblin. To be welcomed so warmly felt so surreal. Thinking about it as she undressed and slipped under the blankets, these people seemed more familial than the Mages Guild. She almost wished she could bring Clarissa. There was already one walking skeleton about, so another might not be so bad…

But could she trust them? Perhaps some of them. Certainly not M’Raaj-Dar. Beyond exposing Tara, he might hurt Clarissa just out of spite. Tara shook her head. Besides, someone had to watch the house. Her mother had it built in that location specifically for when she was in the area, so renting it out wasn’t an option. Maybe when Kalila comes back…

Which reminded Tara that Kalila had not written her once since she left for Anvil! She felt a twist of hurt and fear. There had been an attack at the Chapel of Anvil recently. While Kalila wasn’t very active in her attendance, there was always a chance that she just so happened to go on the day of the attack. The Courier said that no one survived… By the Nine was she going to have to resurrect her too?

She shook her head. Kalila was fine. She was probably so wrapped up in her studies that she forgot about the rest of the world. That was how she was.

The scent of lavender was helping her feel more relaxed as she closed her eyes. She slept soundly.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Nov 5 2014, 06:48 AM

[Grits]

Now I really want roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy. Since I don’t have an Argonian assassin handy, I guess I’m going to have to make it myself!

One tiny nit: The hall was lined with gold tinted glass cradling holding welkynd stones. I think you have an extra word in here.

The library sounds lovely and the embroidered Black Hand pillows made me smile. Somehow that’s almost as creepy as the expected dripping water, hanging chains, and cobwebs.

“Well, in the event that you… ah… well, you don’t make it back from a mission, we need to ensure that in the event that your shade is summoned, you don’t inadvertently reveal any secrets. It’s standard procedure. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. We can also go over the logistics of jobs and payment. Goodnight, sister.” With that, Ocheeva nodded and closed the door.

Wow. That’s a brilliant idea and also scary. Yikes, cheerful assassins!

This post has been edited by Grits: Nov 4 2014, 04:51 PM

[Jacki Dice]

Grits~ I got the idea from Lord of Souls. Or maybe it was The Infernal City. One of them. Anyway, they have so much more practical magic described!

~~~~~♦~~~~~

Chapter Sixteen: Shade

It had been years since Tara woke to the scent of breakfast cooking. Groggily bundling up, she recalled the last time Kalila had cooked breakfast. Their mother had been home and she cheerily remarked that Kalila would land a man in no time if she kept cooking. In response, Kalila immediately laid down the spoon and hadn’t touched a stove since. Tara smiled a little at the memory.

With the smell of bacon permeating the air, she allowed herself to stretch out and just linger under the covers for a few moments. She was always so busy running around that sometimes she forgot to take time to just breathe.

With her eyes closed, she took slow breaths as she allowed her mind to relax. She focused on the feeling of her body on the mattress, the crisp sheets tangled around her bare legs, the weight of her hair on the pillow, the sound of something scratching at the bookshelf…

Wait.

She opened her eyes and saw the largest rat she had ever seen.

Tara got up with a shriek, pulling her blankets up on the bed so they weren’t touching the floor. As she brought nothing, she didn’t have anything to throw at it other than her shoes. She was not prepared to make that sort of sacrifice.

Antoinetta burst in. Her clear blue eyes were wide as she looked up at Tara. “What’s wrong?” She asked, taking a step forward.

“Rat!” Tara hissed. “Kill it!” It was then that she remembered that she could probably hit it with a good shock spell. She locked her fingers in a claw-like position and began to draw the spell from within her when Antoinetta picked it up. Bare handed. “Dear gods, what are you doing?” She asked as her hand slacked.

“Oh, dear,” Antoinetta said in a baby-like voice. “I think Ocheeva forgot to introduce me to you! I’m sowwy.” She made the rat make a waving motion with its front paw. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Schemer! I’m a very good rat most of the time, but sometimes I sneak into people’s rooms and give them such a start! But I’m very nice and I’m all clean!”

Tara had since dropped her hand and the look of fear was replaced by mild disgust. “You mean… it lives here? As a… a pet or something?”

“Yes,” Antoinetta said in her normal voice. “He’s a sweetheart. Don’t worry, he never leaves the Sanctuary, so there’s no risk of him bringing disease. Take a look, his fur is nice and glossy and his eyes are clear. I even brush his teeth!”

Tara couldn’t hide the repulsed look on her face. “You can’t be serious!”

Antoinetta shrugged. “Well, I guess since I’ve lived among rats and spiders for so long, they don’t really phase me. I never really had the luxury of being afraid of them.” She set Schemer down, outside Tara’s door. “So Ocheeva told me your sister is ill.”

Tara climbed down and began to make her bed. “Did she?”

Antoinetta nodded. “Shame. What’s she sick with?”

“Well…” Tara started, trying to come up with something. She had become better at lying lately, but it still made her nervous. She always had to recall exactly what she said and to whom and when… It was exhausting! Not to mention having to watch her body language for give-aways. She immediately stopped wringing her hands. “She came down with a case of yellow tick.”

Antoinetta nodded. “Such a shame. So you take care of her then?” She smiled a little. “How old is she?”

Tara could feel her stomach begin to grease up. She understood the questions. It was the usual small talk one engages in when joining a new guild. She couldn’t afford to appear cold and uninterested.

Besides, that was a difficult question to answer. Technically, Clarissa was fourteen. However, she spent three years dead. In fact, she was still technically dead and would be for another ten months. So would the lost time make her ten? Her mind and body would dictate so. In fact, that brought up another concern for Tara. When Clarissa became of legal age, she could still have the mentality of a teenager. She frowned at the implications.

“She’s fourteen,” she finally answered. “But she’s the baby of the family, so I guess sometimes she seems a lot younger than she is.”

“Ah,” Antoinetta nodded. “I was the youngest in my family, but…” She smiled and shrugged. “I guess not every family treasures the youngest like yours.” She looked like she was about to elaborate, but then a bell rang. “Oh! That’s breakfast!”



Breakfast was no less spectacular than dinner had been. It would surely be a bad idea to live here, Tara thought. I’ll gain weight and Mother will never let me hear the end of it!

After she ate, Vicente led her to a room at the end of the hall to begin her lessons in shade repressing. The room was much larger than hers. In fact, it was more like a suite. The main room contained a dark gray chaise lounge with an emerald green paisley print. A couple of green pillows were placed on each side. It was placed under a looming bookcase that stretch across the entire wall. It was tall enough to require a ladder that wheeled from one end to the other. Tara had always wanted one of those.

There was a nice fireplace that was currently unlit. Instead of bricks, it was made of white marble slab. Above it was a beautiful landscape depicting mushroom-like trees overlooking a crystal lake. The land looked almost swamp-like and was dotted with gold and pink flowers. There were other paintings as well, mostly depicting the same sort of landscapes.

“Please,” Vicente said, motioning to the chaise lounge. “Make yourself at home.”

As Tara moved a pillow out of her way, Vicente poured her a glass of water. “I’d offer you some wine, but it’s still a bit early.” He smiled. Tara found it very hard to keep from being drawn in too deeply. “So, I trust Ocheeva told you about our first order of business.”

“Yes,” she said. “I need to learn how to repress a shade.” She furrowed her brows a little. “I honestly have no idea where to begin.”

Vicente frowned a little. “So, she didn’t tell you how we go about that process?”

Something in his tone bothered her. “No. Should she have?”

Vicente sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, I think it would have been a lot…easier coming from her.” Vicente took a seat in a tall armchair. “What I am going to do is use magic to bring you just a breath away from death’s door. One you are there, I will summon your shade just enough for me to sense it and for you to feel it so you know how to hold it in. Then I’m going to revive you. We’ll go over it a few times and eventually, it’ll become an automatic response.”

Tara’s eyes widened as she clutched the pillow to her chest. “Isn’t there any other way? This sounds far too dangerous! I mean one little slip…” She set her water down. “I’m sorry, Vicente. I don’t think I can do this. You could kill me!”

“No, no, no,” Vicente said. “You won’t die. I have excellent control.”

Tara stood up, still frowning. Her heart felt like a stone, sinking into her stomach. Whether or not he had excellent control did not negate what he was about to do. “I don’t think you quite understand. You are asking me to put my life literally in your hands with this.”

“I am. Isn’t that what guildmates are supposed to do?”

“Yes, but this isn’t a—” She stopped herself, sitting back down. “It’s nothing against you. I just didn’t think there would be this level of involvement.”

“Hmm.” Vicente nodded slightly. “I suppose you figured it would be a little more like a band of hit men? Get the assignment, reap the reward, and call it a day, right?”

Tara said nothing.

“Sorry to disappoint, but we’re a lot more like any other guild. This includes having to trust in all of us as we will with you.”

Tara closed her eyes to keep the disbelief hidden. She was an upstanding member of the Mages Guild. They were assassins. They were not the same. Not even similar.

“Listen,” Vicente knelt down, taking her hand in his. Tara started to pull away, but damn it those eyes of his. The soft way he spoke… That smile… She relaxed. “I understand your fear. I was mortal once upon a time. You’ll just have to trust me. Trust us. We’re your family. I would never put you in harm’s way.” He squeezed her hand slightly. “Do you trust me, Tara?”

Tara wanted with all her might to be blunt and say “no” but when she looked into his eyes, she saw no malice. He seemed so honest… “Yes. I believe you.” She didn't even realize that she had spoke until the words were out.

“Good.” He said. As soon as he sat back in his chair that feeling left her. Tara suddenly felt vulnerable. And somehow dirty. “Then let’s get started, shall we?”

[Grits]

Schemer! What an introduction!

Tara wanted with all her might to be blunt and say “no” but when she looked into his eyes, she saw no malice. He seemed so honest… “Yes. I believe you.” She didn't even realize that she had spoke until the words were out.

I love this part. This is exactly how I imagine vampire’s seduction would work. I really enjoy this story.

[Jacki Dice]

Grits~ I'm so glad you liked the Vampire's Seduction. I was worried that it wouldn't translate well -phew!-

~~~~~♦~~~~~

Chapter Seventeen: The Cheydinhal Mages Guild

Tara went from laying on the chaise to suddenly feeling weightless, both physically and mentally. Her heart no longer sank with the always persistent thoughts of “what if” or “how will I make it?” It was as if all her cares simply evaporated.

All around her was complete darkness except for a point of violet light. Everything within her was telling her to go to it. In fact, she couldn’t resist. She was actually floating toward it.

But what about Kalila and Clarissa?

That thought intruded suddenly. Kalila alone in Anvil… Losing Clarissa had almost broken her. How would she get over losing another sister? And Clarissa was still locked away in the basement. What would become of her? What if some necromancer found her and forced her into servitude for the rest of her existence?

And her work! She was dragging herself through the foulest depths of Oblivion over this. She murdered people over it! She put everything dear to her at risk! It was too much to just throw away! Suddenly she wasn’t so eager to go into the light.

Then she felt a tug. It wasn’t like the gradual floating she felt before. This was more insistent. It was as if someone had slipped a hook just behind her bellybutton and was jerking it roughly.

With one more violent tug, Tara felt a hard slam in her upper body. Her head was ringing as she opened her eyes. “What in Oblivion….?” She asked groggily.

Vicente helped her take a few sips of water. “It’s alright,” he said soothingly. “I pulled your shade.”

Tara frowned, feeling disappointed. “So it was that easy, huh?

Vicente smiled a little. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I doubt you’ve had any experience to help you resist.”

Tara sipped her water in silence for a moment. “That light… What was it?”

“I can only make assumptions based on what others have told me, but if you’re talking about a light at the end of a tunnel, that was probably the entrance to the Dreamsleeve. Like I said, I’ll be bringing you to the very brink of death so I can start pulling your shade.”

She finished the water, still feeling a slight disappointment that she had been powerless to resist. Vincente seemed to have that effect on her in more ways than one. “How long does it usually take to master this?”

Vicente thought for a moment. “A few days. A week at latest.”

Tara stood up. “I can’t stay that long. In fact, I should have left last night. Do you have any books on this?”

“You mean books on how to lull yourself into a near death state and bring out your own shade?”

Tara sighed. “Alright, I guess I can’t do this alone. I suppose I can come back in a few days and maybe I can stay longer if I plan things out right.”



Tara left the abandoned house by way of an old well off by the east wall. It was a little hard to climb the ladder because Ocheeva insisted on sending her out with a care package. It was a sweet little basket filled with bread and fruit and at the bottom was a key to the well.

She wasn’t used to being so doted on. It made her feel a slight disappointment in what could have been between Tara and her mother. Though she didn’t doubt Rhianna’s love for her, she could be abrasive and harsh comments slipped a little too easily from her, especially when her lips were lubricated with wine. While Tara had thrived despite having to mother herself and her two sisters, Ocheeva’s kindness made her miss something she hadn’t realized was missing.

The thoughts lingered with her as she crossed though Ash-town. She remained so preoccupied that it wasn’t until she was standing across the road from the Mages Guild hall that she realized her distraction. Her feet has simply taken her where she had been used to going at the end of each day while in Cheydinhal.

At first, she thought about just heading to the main gates and catching the next carriage out of there, but something inside her told her to at least say hello to Deetsan. The poor woman was generally overwhelmed with having to smooth over the cruelties of Falcar and her general duties as a mage.

Tara had expected an air of gloom once she crossed the threshold. That was normal. However, she wasn’t prepared for the echoing sobs and thick tension when she went inside. As usual, Deetsan was fluttering around offering comfort where she could. A pair of the city’s guards were inside. They looked as though they had been trying to follow Deetsan wherever she went and simply gave up in exasperation. While one kept trying to get Deetsan’s attention, and kept it only momentarily, the other was speaking to Uurwen, the Bosmer enchanter. Her eyes were rather red and she dabbed them frequently as she spoke in hushed tones.

It was almost as if someone had died. Couldn’t have been Falcar, or else there would be celebration, Tara thought. She only half-chastised herself for thinking it.

“Deetsan?” Tara followed the hurried Argonian.

“Tara?” Her amber eyes widened. “Dear girl,” she said, taking Tara into her arms. “What an awful day for you to visit. Just horrifying!”

“What’s going on?”

Deetsan’s eyes closed. Her peridot scales almost seemed to ruffle with anger. “Falcar,” she hissed. “That filthy swine! He…” She growled. Tara didn’t recall ever seeing her so angry. “He killed one of our new associates.”

“He what?” Tara’s hands flew up to her mouth.

Deetsan shook her head. “He was sent to fetch a ring Falcar claimed he dropped in the well. Apparently he enchanted it to get heavier when someone picks it up. It was weighted in his hand and he drowned down there. We only found him last night. Vidkun, that was his name, was missing for nearly a week! I thought Faclar had just run him off or something.”

“Dear gods…” Tara was stunned. Falcar had always acted like a horrid, miserable old coot, but to murder someone? And by drowning no less! At least Tara made it quick when she killed. It wasn’t be highest horse to be on, but at least she wasn’t cruel.

“And then to top it off, we found a stash of black soul gems in his quarters!” Deetsan ran her hand over her scaled head. “He’s vanished, of course. I think he heard people complaining about the water tasting funny, so he figured we’d investigate sooner or later. I just can’t believe it. Our Guildhall leader was a murdering necromancer! It makes my blood boil, especially considering how often I wrote to the Council about him and his behavior. Did they so much as investigate?” She huffed.

One of the guards took note of Deetsan and headed in their direction. “I’m so sorry I can’t catch up with you,” Deetsan said. “I keep having to settle everyone down and its taking away from the investigation. Listen, I’ll write to you as soon as this calms down.” With one last squeeze, Deetsan met the guard to continue aiding the investigation.

Tara slipped out quietly. She was no longer a resident of the Cheydinhal guild, but after where she had been lately, she didn’t want to risk saying anything regretful. In fact, she was lucky that Deetsan didn’t think to ask what she was doing there. Even her love of Dunmeri food wouldn’t bring her so far from home for no reason. She would have to think up something later on.

Falcar…

She despised that man. Tara wasn’t a hateful person, but he brought that out in her by being such a loathsome brute. She had a lot of unkind thoughts about him, but truly she never would have guessed him to be a necromancer.

If only I had started this journey with Clarissa years ago, she thought bitterly. Perhaps he could have left some nuggets of wisdom for her in the manure that usually came out of his mouth.

Wait… Wasn’t the entire reason for going to Cheydinhal to find some sort of necromantic guidance?

No, not from Falcar of all people. She’d rather die and hope Kalila could bring her back.

Then again, it seemed that the only assistance she would get from the Dark Brotherhood was targets for souls. She scolded herself. “Targets” were an awful thing to call someone, even if it made it easier on her conscience.

Anyway, it wasn’t as if she knew where to find Falcar, even if she was interested in his help. But who else can help me? She wondered about it all during the ride back to the Imperial City.

[Grits]

Your description of Vicente pulling Tara’s shade was vivid and easy to follow. I found myself worrying over what Vicente might learn. Tara has a lot to hide from everyone. Clarissa is the only person she can confide in, and who knows if she has enough ear parts to hear yet?

Poor Vidkun. I like seeing game quests go on in the background, and I like your explanation of how the ring made Vidkun drown. The tie-in with Falcar’s activities and Tara’s need for necromantic guidance is brilliant. Great update!

[Jacki Dice]

~~~~~♦~~~~~


Chapter Eighteen: The Sirens


It’s only just a crush, it’ll go away.
It’s just like all the others, it’ll go away.
Or maybe this is danger and you just don’t know.
You pray it all away, but it continues to grow.
Tear You Apart, She wants Revenge

Though the Chapel was still closed because of the murders, the bells still rang every hour. Promptly at six in the morning, Kalila woke up.

Out of all the mages at the Anvil guildhall, Kalila was the only one who greeted the new day with a jog. Dressed in simple cotton pants and a loose shirt, she did a couple laps around the inside of the city gates. Then she went back to her room for push-ups, crunches, tricep dips until she felt shaky and well past sore. Afterwards she took a hot bath and returned to her room to change into fresh clothes.

This time, before getting breakfast, Kalila sat at the small desk by her bed and took out a piece of paper and a quill. She hadn’t yet written Tara and she felt guilty for it. Most of her time was devoted to trying to improve her restoration. Usually, before she knew it, the entire day had been spent. The more she put off writing Tara, the worse she felt until she had avoided it for a few weeks. Tara was probably worried and if she didn’t write soon, Kalila was sure she would show up in a panic. Last thing she wanted was Tara swooping like a mage in shining robes thinking there was something to panic over.

21st of Rain’s Hand, 3E429

Dear Tara,

Sorry I haven’t written yet. Things have been really busy. I was sent on my first official mission for the guild, right when I walked in! There was someone killing off people at the Brina Cross Inn, just a couple miles north of here. The evidence looked like it was a mage doing it. It was. It was some ancient high elf. She targeted merchants and summoned frost atronochs to kill them. Don’t worry, I had two battlemages with me so I didn’t get hurt too badly.

Other than that, I’ve been really working to get better at restoration magic. I don’t know what it is, but I’m feeling stuck. The magicka is there and so is the intent but it just comes out all garbled when I try to apply it. Luckily there’s plenty of books so I can make sure I’m doing everything right, at least in theory.

There are actually a lot of pirates around here. They don’t have their flags out, but I can point them out pretty easy. They generally keep to the Harborside though and they don’t get too rowdy. Sometimes I wonder if Mother will show up. I hope not. Somehow I have a feeling she would start harping me about settling down with a nice man and all that.

I’ve been thinking of possibly joining the Fighters Guild. I see them a lot and maybe if things don’t clear up for me here, I could work with them. They’re contracted with the Empire too, so it shouldn’t cause any conflict, right? I mean, I’ll always want to be a battlemage, but if I can’t get this restoration thing, maybe that’s a good alternative.

Everything else here is fine. I’m eating properly and getting plenty of sleep. It’s a lot easier when I don’t have to stay up studying! I hope I’ll get the hang of restoration soon so I can come back home. I miss you.

Love,

Kalila

As she folded the letter and poured the wax to seal it, Kalila still felt guilty. There was something else.

She was sick. It was possibly incurable. Kalila felt it could be fatal.

Her mouth had started to dry out of nowhere, even if she had just had water. She was quick to feel nauseas. Her heart quickened and slowed. Feverishness came and went, leaving her feeling warm and clammy. Sometimes she even felt as if she was going to float out of her body.

Curiously, this only occurred when Kestrella was around.

With a huff, she pictured just what Tara would say. Oh, Kalila you’re in love! But that was ridiculous. Kalila didn’t have time for love. She had managed to avoid it for so long at the Arcane University, so why not now? Kestrella’s dimples didn’t have that much of a pull over her, did they?

Yes.

No!

Besides, it would end badly. She wasn’t going to stay in Anvil and Kestrella seemed to enjoy it there. Even if something did happen, which Kalila was working to avoid, they would wind up half a country away from each other.

Besides, it wasn’t likely to work out for very long. Kalila was simply not suited for romance. She didn’t know the first thing about talking to girls. Or boys. Or anyone. When things soured, and they surely would, it would cause such agony. She saw how that went for countless couples. In fact, when her parents divorced, Rhianna had been inconsolable and Aiden had made a hermit of himself until Rhianna went back to sea. Even then, it changed him. She would die before she was reduced to a sobbing mess, curled up in her bed for weeks and drowning in cheap wine. The easiest way to keep from getting burned was to stay away from the fire.

If only it were that easy.

Kalila brushed out her hair, leaving it down instead of her usual Breton braid. Kestrella said her hair was so pretty down, but that wasn’t the reason. No, not at all. If she didn’t go get breakfast quick, the sausages would be gone! Kalila loved sausages. Five minutes could not be wasted on braiding.

“Kalila, over here!” Kestrella grinned, waving as if Kalila were across the room of a crowded party, instead of only feet away at the doorway. As usual, an empty chair sat at Kestrella’s left. The resident imp was hovering at her shoulder, stealing grapes from her plate. “Sparky, no!” Kestrella said, slapping its tiny hand. “You have your own!”

As Kalila sat down, she couldn’t help noticing that Kestrella smelled of flowers. She tried to blame it on her hair. She had so much of it. At times, her curls looked like a lion’s mane. That was how she preferred it. Kestrella was constantly ruffling her hair to try and make it bigger.

“So,” Kestrella said while Kalila made her plate. “Plans for today?”

“The usual,” Kalila said.

“Kaaaaal,” Kestrella groaned. “It’s Sundas! Also known as Lazy-day.” She paused for a moment. “And you sound way too awake. Were you up at the crack of dawn again?”

“Nope,” Kalila said, after a sip of orange juice. “Dawn is at five. Besides, I have to study. I’ll never know if I’m making some sort of mistake if I don’t.”

Kestrella sighed. “I don’t know why you won’t let me see what the issue is. You’re real stubborn, you know that?”

“You’ve told me,” Kalila found herself smiling.

“Okay, so you agree with me on that. So why not let me persuade you to just relax today? It’s just one day, Kal. You have your whole life to stuff yourself in books.”

“Problem is, there’s no guarantee I’ll have a ‘whole life’ to live.” She took a bite of an orange slice, glancing at Kestrella. As much as she wanted to focus and get out of there, Kestrella had a point. Besides, she was starting to become uncomfortably aware that she was behaving exactly like Tara. “Was there something you wanted to do?”

Kestrella gasped, grinning at Kalila with sparkling eyes. A flutter of butterflies intermingled with the orange slices. Kalila quickly looked away. “Well! There’s going to be a bard at The Flowing Bowl this afternoon. Her name’s Larchel. I saw her once at the First Planting festival. She was so good! And maybe we can just look around. I haven’t really looked around the Harborside yet.”

A bard in a tavern was not Kalila’s first choice of activities to do on a Sundas, but the excitement in Kestrella’s eyes promised a good time. “Well, alright.” She smiled. “Sounds fun.”



As promised, Larchel performed beautifully. Kalila didn’t know any of the songs, but Kestrella did and she sang along happily. After Larchel left, the two decided to stay for a few more drinks.

Kalila also noticed a pair of women eyeing them the entire night. They looks weren’t threatening, yet they didn’t appear too friendly. Kalila hadn’t been sure why they kept looking over until they approached.

“Never seen you here before,” the shorter one said. She was either Breton or Imperial, in a red velvet gown with a purple and gold trim. Her dark hair was styled elegantly. Even her makeup indicated status. What was she doing in a tavern like this? Kalila wondered. The women she was with, a blond Nord, dressed in a simpler brown dress. While she wasn’t as extravagant as her friend, she still seemed out of place.

Looking at Kalila, the shorter one said, “You look like you can handle yourself in a fight. And I’m sure you wouldn’t mind making a little extra money.”

Before Kalila could speak, Kestrella chimed in. “You kidding? She took down a mage and her summoned atronachs! She’s tough as nails!”

Kalila instantly began fidgeting, noticing yet another woman, a dark elf at the table next to them, looking in her direction. The women also caught the attention of a sleeping dog at the dark elf’s feet. It looked irritated. Kalila wasn’t used to having so many eyes on her. She wished she could quickly cast an invisibility spell and slip away. “I mean... I had help…” She looked up, willing her cheeks to stop burning. She was grateful for the combination of bronze skin and poor lighting to hide any reddening. “Did you need something?”

After exchanging looks, the woman continued. “Well, I’m Faustina and this is Signy.” She took the empty seat across from Kestrella and leaning in, lowering her voice. “I’ve put together a, well... a gang. We make money by luring fools out to the middle of nowhere and robbing them blind.”

Kestrella frowned. “Oh. That’s, well, that’s actually pretty horrible. Why would you do that? I mean, why are you even telling us this?”

Faustina shrugged. “Fools are easily parted with their money, so why should I feel bad for having them part with it for my gain? At least I leave them alive, unlike some of the pirates and bandits around here. And as for why I’m sharing this information, well there’s strength in numbers, see? Look at you,” she addressed Kalila again, lightly squeezing her arm. Kalila shrunk away slightly. “Think of the money we could make. Besides, it’s child’s play. Our targets are weak willed men who are easily fooled into believing they will have their way with us.” She laughed. “Men are so gullible. I leave the decision up to you. If you want to join up, meet us at the Gweden farmhouse around eleven in the evening. It’s just up the road. Oh, and one more thing,” she said, this time looking at Kestrella. “If you breathe a word of this to the city guard, you won’t live long enough to get whatever reward they’re offering." A flush of rage overcame Kalila. This criminal was blatantly threatening Kestrella! She had half a mind to shove a fireball right down her throat. A glance at Kestrella calmed her down. She didn’t seem bothered.

To Kalila, Faustina winked. “Think about it.”

With that, they both left.

Kestrella sipped her drink. “Well. That was something.” She swirled her cup, looking into the building foam. “You know, we really should tell someone. She gave us the name of the farm. Why not report it?”

“You don’t want to do that.”

Kalila looked over at the dark elf. She, too, seemed slightly out of place. Her hair was straight and dark brown, though Kalila could see from the texture that the straightness likely came from one of those metal combs she had seen and heard horror stories about. Her outfit wasn’t extravagant, like Faustina’s, but it had a certain look to it. She had on a high necked corset in a soft green and dark green pants. A pair of peridot studs were in her ears, matching the peridot pendant around her neck. As she turned to face Kalila and Kestrella, Kalila noticed green powder on her eyelids. The dog was mostly white, with tan fur on its back and the top of its head. A line green bow was tied around its neck. The varying shades of green seemed to have a magic of its own.

“Why not?” Kestrella asked. “She just admitted to luring innocent people to the middle of nowhere and mugging them! They have to be stopped!”

“Oh, no, I agree!” She said. “I would like to see them stopped, believe me. Just going to the city guard...” She shook her head. “Bad idea. You heard her. She’s got a gang. And if they’re organized, they could have connections with the city guard. Or one of them could be one of their victims and don’t want to pursue it because it’ll bruise their pride. Or they'll keep their promise and come after you.”

Kestrella frowned a little. “Then how can they be stopped?”

The dark elf smiled. Though it was nothing more than friendly, her eyes seemed to be fixated on Kestrella in a way Kalila found all too familiar. The elf’s outfit wasn’t the only source of green in the area. “I have an idea. Of course I’ll need your help. Mainly yours,” she said to Kalila. “Since they invited you specifically.”

“Sure thing!” Kestrella grinned. “I’m Kestrella, by the way. And this is Kal.”

The dark elf held her hand out to Kestrella. “I’m Lilitu and this sleeping bundle is Dolce. Nice to meet you both.”

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Jacki, I love this story, and I'm so glad to see new chapters since my last visit!

I love that Kalila is becoming close to Kestrella. I just hope this turns out well for them, you know?

And Tara is finding out that family can come in many different forms. I'm rooting for her to find enough souls to resurrect her sister completely, as gross as it is in practice. I check often to see if you've gotten a new chapter up, and request that King of Beasts posts for me but it looks like he hasn't been doing that.

[Grits]

Lilitu and Dolce!! I knew that had to be her, even though she wasn’t wearing her signature red. It was the straightened hair that clued me! Yay, this just keeps getting better!