Dark Waters

Sigrid

..::~^~::..

‘Dovah’, the book had been entitled. Inside the first few pages, it made clear that ‘Dovah’ was the dragon language for Dragon. I smiled to myself as I browsed through a few pages, but was interrupted as I heard a few footsteps, and I frantically searched for a place to hide. There was nowhere, except for under a table. Then I eyeballed the bookshelves. I managed to wedge my whole body behind one of the cases, even though it was a little difficult for me to breath. Soon, people filled the room, and I could hear talking.

“Who is she?” One guard asked. I could hear the dishonest serpentine voice of the Thalmor, and immediately felt a feeling of disgust.

“She’s one of Ulfric Stormcloak’s. He says she’s a sleeper agent, and she’s very deadly,” another said. There was a frightful tone in his voice, and I was curious about who they were talking about.

“How did she get in?” One asked, and suddenly, I was very interested.

“Through the door, you fool. And now she’s on a rampage. She’s began slaughtering some of those in the Embassy. We need to react, quickly,” At this point, I wasn’t sure who would be more dangerous. The Thalmor, or this sleeper agent they were talking about. Another question raised in my mind, why was she going around killing everybody in the Em- actually, that question didn’t even need asking. The only thing I was really curious about was if she’d kill me.

“Soon, she’ll be dead, along with Malborn,” he said slyly. The sound of a door slamming open echoed through, and the sound of sword fighting.

“What was that?” One of the guards asked, and I guessed it wasn’t long until they found out. A girl growled as she ran into the room, and cut up everybody in it. Well, that’s what I assumed she did. Blood splattered along the wall, causing me to cringe. I held my breath more than I had ever held it before. I didn’t want her to find me, because I’m sure I wouldn’t get a chance to explain I’m not a part of the Embassy before she’d cut me into pieces. Not even a few minutes later, she ran from the room. I stayed in my spot, until the massacre was over. If she was on a rampage, killing everybody in the building, I did not want to be in the way for that. I waited long after she left the room. Partly because I was frightened of this girl, and partly because I was frightened of what I would see when I emerged from behind the bookshelf. I’d already seen enough maiming in such a short time, that I wasn’t exactly sure of what I’d do. Eventually, I got myself together, for what seemed like the hundredth time today, and stepped out from behind the bookshelf, happy to be able to take full breaths again. The sight wasn’t as horrible as I imagined it would be. Though, all of the heads were cut clean from the bodies of the Thalmor, and I cringed. My stomach seemed to not be able to handle this stuff well, anymore.

I stepped over the bodies, and the heads, and quickly found the door that lead from the hallway. As I walked through the building, everybody seemed dead. Bodies lay in every room, eyes open, and forever staring. Even in their death, they seemed spiteful, hating those that were not of their race. I spat at one as I walked by it. I walked around aimlessly until I opened a door that emerged behind a bar, and saw four people standing around. The first person that caught my attention was a female Bosmer, covered in blood. As soon as she saw me, she snarled, into a crouch, and started running towards me, “I’m not part of the Thalmor,” I quickly cried out in a cowardly moment.

The girl didn’t stop as she ran for me. Two of the guys she was with quickly grabbed her arms, stopping her from continuing towards me. I was thankful, “No, Vi!” a Bosmer, who I recognized as Niruin from the Guild, yelled. I could have been wrong, seeing as we didn’t affiliate with them much, but I’ve had to go to the Ragged Falggon a few times with Astrid. She struggled in their arms, and he continued, “She’s not one of them, she’s not responsible for Malborn’s death!”

“I’m not, I swear,” I added on to the Bosmer’s words, “I only snuck in to find information,” I clarified, my words still quick, urgent, and pleading. I only hope she would decide to believe me.

The girl stopped struggling in the Bosmer’s arms, which was the most I could ask for. Still, she breathed heavily, “Whatever information you needed is dead. Whatever’s left will be killed off soon as well.” Her words frightened me.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” I tried to regain calmness, knowing this wasn’t like myself, to be fearful in the face of death, “all I really found was this book,” I held it up.

“Do I know you?” the Bosmer, hopefully Niruin, asked. If he was who I thought, then it was possible he could help justify my case as being non-Thalmor.

“You’re Niruin, from the Guild, correct?” I asked, hope heavy in my voice.

“I am,” Nuriun said, and I let a breath out, thankful. “Though, I’m not too good at matching voices and faces,” he said, implying he didn’t remember me. That’s fine. As long as I could make it a point to know that I knew who he was.

“You know her?” The girl Bosmer asked, skeptically looking over towards me. Though the look was uncomfortable, it was far better than her trying to kill me.

“Understandable. My name is Sigrid, I’m from the Brotherhood. We’ve had business with the Guild for a while,” I informed him, thinking there would be a chance to remember.

“And what does someone from the Brotherhood seek from the scathing, vile, Thalmor?” the female Bosmer asked, kicking a dead Thalmor body that lay at her feet, just as she spoke the last word.

“We shouldn’t dig, Vi,” another one of the men warned from behind ‘Vi’, and Niruin.

“I suspect that I know,” a Thalmor stepped forward, and I was shocked. He must have mixed in with the dead Thalmor elves, and I was unsure of why he wasn’t dead. He answered before I was able to, “Something of a Dragon attack in Helgen, I presume,” he said, and I was unaware of how he possibly could have guessed that.

“Yes. It killed my…” I was unable to say the words. What was Nev to me? “It killed Nev, and I want to find it, and kill it in the worst possible way. I’ve got to avenge his death,” I said, getting more personal with the details, not planning on getting any more personal than that.

“Ondolemar could help you with that,” Vi said, though she still seemed suspicious of me.

“That I could,” Ondolemar, the Thalmor, spoke with a slight smile, “though I’m afraid what information I hold isn’t on me, its back in Markarth. I have nothing left here to do, and can travel with you there if you like,” I wasn’t sure how to respond to the offer. I felt bad for feeling it, but I was suspicious myself of Ondolemar, just because he was Thalmor. I hesitated for a second, before nodding.

“That’s fine,” I said, knowing that while traveling with him, I’d have to watch my back, just to be sure I wasn’t getting myself into a mess.

“Well then, I suppose its best we get moving,” Ondolemar said, stepping forward. He brushed past Niruin as he did so. I tried not to look Niruin, Vi, or the other guy as I left with Ondolemar, and only hoped that I wouldn’t regret leaving with him. I had a disgust for them, but if Vi didn’t kill him, there must be a reason. I was curious as to why.

“So, even though, Vi-“

“Vitrin. I know deep down she secretly she hates her short name. If you see her again, I wouldn’t get caught calling her by Vi,” he warned, and I nodded my head.

“Vitrin didn’t kill you, though she killed every other Thalmor or affiliate in the whole Embassy. Why not?” I asked out of curiosity. He chuckled at this, his smile the only thing I could see from under his hood. I’m sure he could say the same for me.

“She likes me,” he answered, “Now, I must ask a question,” he said. I didn’t say anything, and just waited for him to ask his question, “Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?” I looked down at my bare feet, having forgot I took off my boots.

“My…they got dirty,” I said, once again reminded of the bloody scene I had encountered in the beginning of my mission. I clutched only the book tight.

“I assume you came in the bottom way,” he asked. All I did in response was look down, “We’re not all that horrible, you know. Okay, that’s a lie. We’re all pretty horrible, but, I regret a lot of the things I’ve done. I wouldn’t do most of them again,” he said, and I nodded in understanding.

“It would be a contradiction for me to judge you, Ondolemar,” I said, truthfully, “I kill people for gold. I don’t think twice about it. It gives…It gave me a thrill,” I said, “What I saw upon entering the Embassy shouldn’t have bothered me. But it did,” I said.

“And I’m truly sorry for what you have seen,” he said, and we neared a stable, “and I guess the choice is yours,” he motioned to all the now ownerless steeds. Though it could have been tempting, I had the only steed I’d ever need.

“That’s quite alright,” I said, and turned to a shadow in the trees. I whistled, and Shadowsmere trotted out of the shadow. He came over and began nuzzling into me, causing me to laugh.

“Marvelous,” he said as he mounted a large white maverick, “Now, to Markarth. If we don’t stop, we should be there by morning,” he said, and I nodded. I kicked into Shadowsmere’s side lightly, and he took off.

..::~^~::..

I’d been to Markarth quite a few times in my Brotherhood life. I can say that the first time I saw it, though, my breath had been taken away. Markarth was a large city built into the mountains. The best defense against…dragons. I laughed at the irony of it. Ondolemar seemed to notice this, and started explaining.

“It wasn’t originally a dragon defense system,” he informed me, “as much as it is now. It’s built above the former city Nchuand-Zel. The Dwemer lived there. There’s a big Dwemer museum being built.”

“The Dwemer,” I said, “Some from High Rock.”

“Are you familiar with the place?” he asked as we dismounted at the stables.

“I was born there,” I said, “I come from a long time of Breton Nobles. Or so I was told. I don’t even remember what my parents look like. Only the history that they left behind.”

“What happened to them?” He asked, his brow furrowing together in curiosity. I wasn’t exactly sure why I was expelling my past to a Thalmor, but I started feeling comfortable around him. A small trust was present.

“There was a period of genocide in High Rock. Nobody knew who was the cause of it, but they framed my family. We ended up fleeing, and came here to Skyrim. We established a life. But when I was six, they were killed. Assassinated, I believe. I never found out by who. Astrid and Arnbjorn – they took me in,” I explained the past that I partially remembered.

“Assassins took you in?” Ondolemar asked, “How did that come to be?”

“I never really asked,” I said, and shook it off, “It doesn’t matter. I was given a great life. He had a skeptical look on his face, like he knew something that I didn’t, but I didn’t question it. I didn’t care. I wanted whatever information he could give me, so I could go back to the Brotherhood, and explain to them how we lost Nev. I followed him through the city, to a house that was built out of stone, much like the rest of the city.

“I don’t have much, but what I do have should help you a lot. It’s not direct, and you’ll have to do some searching for answers, but the base is all here,” he said as he walked into his study. He looked in a chest, and grabbed a few scrolls, which he then handed to me.

“This means a lot,” I said, “You’ve helped more than I could every repay.” He smiled, leading me back out of the house.

“Whatever is in there is worthless to me. I also know how it feels to lose somebody you love,” he said, and his accusation struck me the wrong way.

“How would you know that I loved him?” I asked as we stopped right before the gates of the city.

“Sigrid, do I strike you as a fool,” he asked rhetorically, “You wouldn’t be doing this unless you had a real interest in dragons, which you don’t, or you loved this Nev, which you do. Whether he was a significant other, or a friend, or your brother, whatever it is. You loved him.” His words were like daggers, and I looked down. He was right.

“Thank you, again, Ondolemar,” I said with finality.

“Safe travels,” he said. I smiled before I conjured Shadowsmere, and rode back near Falkreath, where the Sanctuary would be; where home would be. The ride wasn’t even half a day, and before long, the Black Door was asking me what the music of life was.

“Silence, my brother,” I answered it, and it granted me access. As it swung open, the dread of telling everybody what had happened burdened me. It seemed to show on my face as I walked in. Astrid immediately noticed that Nev wasn’t there.

“What happened?” she asked, already knowing. I’d wanted to ask her the same question. Except, why did they take me in as an assassin. What was so special about me?

“The dragon attack in Helgen,” I explained, and she looked down, sad.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, and though she seemed compassionate, she didn’t hug me. She never showed any sign of affection.

“I’m fine. I wish I could say the same for Nev,” I forced a smile, but it hurt, “Now, I have something that’s been on my mind.”

“What is it?” she asked, interested.

“Why did you take me into the Brotherhood at such a young age? I know I was an orphan, but was there something special about me?” I felt foolish for asking, but since my talk with Ondolemar, it was eating away at me. She hesitated, before she gestured to my room.

“Come talk with me in private,” she said, and I nodded, following her into her room. She shut the doors, and we both sat down in chairs facing each other, “I dreaded you ever asking me this. I’ve gotten away with it for years,” she took in a deep breath, “they were Nobles from High Rock-“

“I know this,” I said, nodding. She gave me a stern look.

“Do you want me to tell you, or are you going to interrupt me?” She asked shortly.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“they were nobles from High Rock. The Maonirn clan. Genocide was happening, and your family, your parents, they were being blamed. There was talk of executions, including yourself, and they fled, to Skyrim,” she looked down, “Your names not even Sigrid. It’s Lore,” she said. I was about to ask her why she hid all of this from me, but she continued to talk, instead, “Well another Breton fellow from High Rock found us through the Black Sacrament. He wanted what everybody else wants when they speak the words. He wanted your family dead,” she said. She looked at me though her engaging and fierce blue eyes, and they were searching if I understood the rest.

“So you killed them,” I said, any love I had felt for this place – gone.

“You know what the Brotherhood is like, Sigrid. We do what we are trained to do for gold. This is how it’s been since the Night Mother and the Tenants,” she explained, as if it excused what she had did.

“Of which you don’t even lead by anymore,” I pointed at her, “How could you hide this from me for so long? My life has been a complete lie,” I yelled, and she was ready to fight back.

“I saved you from a promised death. I was supposed to kill you, but I didn’t. I couldn’t,” she said.

“Well you should have,” venom filled my words, “And from now on, you can consider me dead, anyways. I’m out, Astrid,” I said, walking towards the door.

“What do you mean?” She said, concern now taking over her voice.

“I’m leaving,” I made it very clear, “and I’m not coming back.” I left the sanctuary without saying any goodbyes. If Astrid had known, the chances were everybody else knew, and they all hid it from me. I mounted Shadowsmere, and headed for the only person I could think to go to. I went to the Guild. I knew Vi didn’t know me, and she definitely didn’t trust me, but I had nowhere else to go. I would speak with Delvin, whom the Brotherhood knew the most. He remembered my name, at the least.

There, I would start my journey on defeating dragons, and killing the one that took Nev away from me.

©Shannon.