Skyrim: Darkness Rising Chapter 5

In the short time after the contract was drawn up, the three sell-swords had gathered everything they'd need for their journey, Jorum packing an extra shield while Rexara packed extra Orcish weapons, particularly two handed ones.  Deciding to travel light, Xethian had two steel swords at her hips, while her bow and quiver rested on her back.  A hood covered her face, but in no way impaired her vision, spotting Brynjolf approach her from the city gates.

"So, come to say good luck to the hired help?" she sneered, glaring at him beneath her hood as he leaned against the wall.  He was dressed in his Guild armour, a Nightingale blade hanging from his hip, acting as his badge of office while the Guild Master was away.  

"Look….I know you and I never seem to part on the best of terms, and…I guess I'm partly to blame for that.  I'm just trying to say that…I'm sorry our relationship turned out the way it did.  Maybe once this is all over, we can just sit down and talk.  See if we can fix things," the thief sighed, shifting awkwardly as the Bosmer avoided his gaze.

"I guess I'd like that.  Wouldn't want to be turning into Vex, now would I," Xethian mumbled, smirking slightly at a memory of the Imperial thief.

"Definitely not.  Remember when she almost stabbed Delvin with a lockpick?  If Tonilia and Dirge hadn't stopped her when they did, I think Delvin would be short an asset," Brynjolf chuckled, barely hiding his surprise when he noticed the elf's shoulders shake in a silent laugh.

"Yeah.  Of course, if that ever happened between us, you'd end up a lass once I'd finished," she smirked, eyes lightening at Brynjolf's startled expression.  "Try not to run the Guild into the ground before we get back.  Otherwise you'd have me and the Guild Master to worry about," she finished, heading towards her horse.

"I'll keep that in mind.  Remember, you're picking up some guy named Guillem when you go past Whiterun.  He'll have Siarra's things with him," Brynjolf advised, watching as the three of them rode off, Xethian's wave the sign she'd heard him.

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The ride to Whiterun had been uneventful, mainly due to the quick pace of the three travellers.  Xethian took point, with Jorum right behind her, making sure there was a distance between the two women.  They didn't stop at the city, only slowing down enough to allow Guillem to catch them, before they picked up their pace, heading north towards the mountains.

They rode in general silence, planning on making it to the Tower of Mzark by nightfall.  They found little resistance from bandits or wildlife, the Imperial's crossbow making quick work of anything that threatened them.  After many hours of riding, they found themselves at the Dwarven tower, Xethian dismounting in order to scout ahead.

"Looks like the lift door here's still open.  Odds are those mercenaries brought her through here," she explained as her companions dismounted, gathering their supplies.

"Any idea on where we might find her in here?  I've heard Blackreach is huge," Jorum questioned, putting one of his banded iron shields on his back.

"I know a few places that the Falmer wouldn't get at her.  There's a small lake down there at the bottom of a waterfall, with a small ledge that can only be reached by swimming.  The Falmer aren't keen on water, so she'll probably be there," the elf explained stepping onto the lift.  Guillem carried the bag of armour and weapons, making him the last to get onto the lift before Xethian pulled the lever.

"Smart idea.  The Falmer would no doubt help free her inadvertently, undoing their hard work to hide her," Jorum mused, stroking his beard.

"As long as I get to take down one of those Centurions, I'll be happy," Rexara groaned, clenching and unclenching her fists in anticipation of a fight.

"Let's focus on finding Siarra, then we'll worry about the constructs," Guillem warned, handing the bag to the Orc.  Before she could argue, the lift stopped, the Imperial stepping out before Rexara could argue.

"Even after centuries, the Dwemer still continue to amaze," Jorum mumbled as they stepped into the Oculary chamber, pausing to take a good look at it before continuing after the others.  Passing through a chamber filled with various items, they soon found themselves in the underground region of Blackreach, the cavern bathed in strange light.  Everyone but Xethian stood in awe of the place, the wood elf once again scouting ahead.  

Unbeknownst to the others, Xethian was also gifted with the beast blood, using her enhanced hearing, sight and smell to find a trail.  Her ears picked up a faint moaning in the distance, while her nose could smell the scent of human blood.  "Come on, she's this way!" she called, breaking the three of them from their awe.  Guillem was the first to catch up as they ran, both of them looking down into a chasm where a waterfall emptied into, finding the ledge Xethian had mentioned, as well as the bound, raggedly clothed Breton that was Siarra, her body appearing to be unmoving as they thundered towards the stone steps that led down to the lake.

Without slowing, the two rescuers charged into the water, swimming as quickly as they could to the ledge, Rexara and Jorum still running down the stairs by the time Xethian and Guillem had made it to the Dragonborn's side.  Using one of her swords, Xethian sliced through the bonds while Guillem's hands glowed with the golden light of a healing spell.

"How are you feeling?  Anything broken?" Guillem asked as Xethian removed the gag, the sapphire eyes of the Breton meeting his pale grey eyes.

"No, I don't think so.  And I feel like a herd of mammoths just stampeded over me," she groaned, pushing herself to sit up, despite her injuries.  "You came a little too prepared to find me to have just been passing through.  I guess I owe Shadowmere….whatever it is he loves," she laughed as Jorum and Rexara managed to get to the ledge, hauling the sack of armour and weapons towards the young woman.

"I've healed you as best I can.  We'd best get you to the College if we're to fully heal you up," Guillem sighed, watching in awe as Siarra reached into the bag, pulling out her Daedric armour and putting it on, wincing slightly from every move she made, before putting on her boots, gauntlets and circlet.  Drinking one of the potions provided, she made herself stand, swaying unsteadily before stretching the stiffness out of her limbs.

"Hah, you're a lot tougher than you look.  No wonder you're in the Companions," Rexara laughed, ready to slap Siarra on the back, until Jorum stopped her, shooting her an irritated glare.

"This wasn't here before," Xethian mumbled, loud enough to get everyone's attention.  Following her gaze, they found a large, ornate door, made in a style they'd never seen before.

"What in Oblivion does it matter?  We found the girl, now let's go and get paid!" Rexara shouted back, already turning towards the water.

"She's right.  That was a rock wall when I was brought here, but a few hours ago, the rock seemed to fade away and reveal this door.  I've been all over Skyrim, and this isn't Ancient Nord or Dwemer or anything I've seen," Siarra replied, ignoring the Orc's remark.  She and Xethian shared a glance, before looking at Guillem and Jorum, then attempting to push the door.

"Oh by Malacath," Rexara groaned, pushing through the door with ease, revealing a large, mostly empty room, a large metal coffin-like structure standing at the far wall.  "Well, this looks like a waste," she muttered, looking for anything worth taking.  

"This was hidden for a reason.  Maybe there's a journal somewhere," Jorum mumbled, staying by the door, ready to defend against anything that came at them.

"Over here.  This looks promising," Guillem called, holding a journal and flicking through it.  While Siarra went over to look at it, Rexara went to scavenging anything of value, leaving Xethian to wander towards the structure, placing a hand on it.

"By the Nine, there's a….a Snow Elf in that thing!" Guillem exclaimed, almost dropping the journal in shock.  Before anyone could say anything, the sound of machinery echoed throughout the room, everyone turning to see Xethian rooted to the spot, seemingly in a trance.  

"Why would someone put a dead Falmer in there?  For study?" Jorum yelled, barely heard over the machinery.

"It's not a Falmer like those things out there, this is a living, breathing Snow Elf, cured of what the Dwarves did to them.  They created a powerful magic device to change him, and it's been keeping him alive all this time!" Siarra yelled, watching as the lid of the coffin split in half, revealing the tall, armoured body, its skin as white as fresh snow and long hair more silver than the metal could ever be.  His armour was black, made of chitin like that of most Falmer armour, but much more similar to Daedric armour.

"By Nocturnal…." Xethian gasped, gazing at her hand as a faint glow, almost like sun-light, enveloped it before fading.  She would have remained staring at her hand, had the Snow Elf not groaned, falling from the coffin on top of her, her thin form almost crushed under his large body had he not put his arms out to stop himself.  Looking up, her black eyes met icy blue as he stared down on her, his eyes seeing her, but his mind seemed elsewhere.

"Bosmer.  A sell-sword and exile from Valenwood.  Fourth Era," the Snow Elf rambled, his eyes looking her up and down before once again meeting her eyes.  "I am not certain, but I believe the magic used to keep me alive allowed me to read the memories of the first being to touch the casket.  I apologise for any form of intrusion into your mind, but it was beyond my control," he apologised, pushing himself to his feet before helping the Wood Elf to her feet.

"Who...I…..who are you?" Siarra questioned, watching the new elf carefully as he looked around, getting his bearings.

"My name is Cronos.  I was once a high ranking commander of the Falmer armies against the Dwemer, but was captured by dwarves who sought to undo what they'd done to us.  Tell me, where are the Dwemer, and what of my Falmer brethren?" the elf stated, watching everyone shift uncomfortably.

"The dwarves disappeared centuries ago to Divines know where.  And the Falmer, they've become twisted monsters, barely more than savage creatures," Guillem replied, his voice quiet and revered, unsure of what else to say.  He'd never told someone that they were basically the last of their kind.

"I see.  Then that means there is no reason to remain here.  If you will have me, I will join you," Cronos sighed, directing his last words at Xethian, taking her by surprise.

"I'm just a sell-sword, why would you want to join me?  Join the Dragonborn over there, you'd do a lot more with her than with me," Xethian stuttered, her eyes visibly wide, despite her war paint.  

"You were the one who freed me, not the Dragonborn," Cronos replied, his tone even and his face emotionless.

"Aw, little Xethy got a new friend.  Let's get out of here and get paid already!" Rexara growled, stepping back as Cronos advanced upon her.

"Very well.  But first, hand over the axes, shield and the bow you took, or else," he threatened, towering over the shorter but bulkier orc, his eyes blazing into her like frozen fires.

"Fine, doubt they were worth much anyway," the orc grumbled, handing over a silvery-white elven bow, shield and twin axes.  "Now, can we get out of here and get that damn gold!" she roared, storming out of the room.

"I see the orcs are more aggressive in this era," Cronos mumbled, waiting behind as Jorum, Guillem and Siarra left, walking alongside Xethian as Siarra, being a powerful mage, used ice magic to create an icy path across the water.  "You saw my own memories, if you could call it seeing," he whispered, facing forward while his eyes looked down into hers.

"Is that why you want to follow me around?  Because we saw each other's minds?  I'm a sell-sword and a thief, not some great Nord hero," she hissed, glancing ahead as Rexara beheaded a Falmer, its head rolling off the cliff.

"Like I said, I saw your memories.  I know you desire revenge on the one who took your home from you.  I simply wish to see justice done," Cronos replied, his tone and expression neutral.  "I also saw what these Thalmor are capable of through you.  I doubt you would last long against your quarry by yourself," he stated, receiving a strong punch to the chest from the Bosmer, his armour protecting him.

"You think you know everything about me?  Yeah, I want revenge, I want to find that Thalmor and tear him limb from limb, I want to burn him alive to make him feel my pain, before I snuff the life out of him.  I don't care if I die trying, at least I can say I gave it my damned everything!" Xethian seethed, grabbing the taller elf by the throat and bringing him down to her height, glaring at him as tears fell unbidden from her eyes, smudging her war paint.

"Good.  Channel your anger, let it strengthen you when that time comes.  And know that I will fight by your side.  That at least would give me a purpose in this new age," Cronos said calmly, standing back to full height when he was released, the two of them catching up to their companions before entering the tower.