Disclaimer: You already know I'm not cool enough to own Oblivion or any of its brethren, stop pointing it out.
A/N: Yeah, I know it's been a reeeeeeally long time since I've updated this... Sorry about that, I've been obsessed with my own original works as of late. Your reviews were the only thing that really kept me writing this, especially since getting the in-game script is such a pain in the hiney to get. Anywhoo, enough of my complaining. I made this chapter longer than most of the other ones just for you... Though I'm not overly happy with it. Lots of in-game dialogue that had to get stuffed in there. But yes. Enjoy, kids.
Chapter 6:
The Amulet of Kings swayed almost cheerily from the Argonian's outstretched fingers, its blood-red gem reflecting the pale light of the moon and the half-glow of Visthaalu's eyes. Cania made a grab for it, only to be thwarted when he lifted it high above his own head, effectively making it quite out of her range. She snarled, now staring him directly in the face.
"Well," he hissed in return, lowering his head slightly to her level, "do we have an accord? Or must I take on your 'duties' as the little messenger girl?"
"Give it back to me and I might decide to let you tag along," she retorted hotly, her face burning with anger. He grinned cruelly.
"Ah, but you are not in any sort of position to be making demands, now, are you?" She scowled. "Little one, you are challenging the master at his own game," he chuckled, shooting a brief gaze up at the Amulet.
"Alright, alright, you can come along," she muttered, extending a hand to prompt the release of the jewel. "Just--" Without warning, the Amulet dropped with a soft plink into her open palm, and she turned her shocked gaze to the smiling Argonian.
"Very good. Now then, let us have a good rest in one of the many seedy Imperial inns, hm? I do believe that you are in desperate need of a bath," he noted, wrinkling his scarred nose. She gave him a pointed look and turned to walk past two bewildered guards into the Imperial City.
One night, a few hours and several attempts at intimidation later, Cania emerged from the Imperial City rested, groomed, and wearing a brand-new, almost illegally obtained set of leather armor, Visthaalu following close behind. The two of them were perched upon a bluff that overlooked the whole of the region, Cania examining Baurus' now largely ruined map and Visthaalu scanning the area for any roads that might resemble the blurred ink smears.
"I think... that's the road to Chorrol," she mumbled, turning the map slightly. Visthaalu shook his head.
"No, I know that road well; it leads to Leyawiin."
"Well, sure, if you take it southward! We're headed... west-ish. And north."
"In that case, we want that road there to the east."
"East? Why would we want to take an eastern road to head northwest?"
And so the argument continued for a brief interlude until Cania finally decided to simply ask one of the Imperial Legion the route to Weynon Priory. He had given them an odd look, but had finally made good on the request. They were on the right track. Unfortunately, that track is ridiculously long and full of bandits, wolves, and bugs. How I loathe the bugs.
Eventually, after several rather unpleasant encounters with some hard-headed bandits, the two companions managed to find their way into the lawns of the Priory. Cania dropped to her knees at the sight of the surprisingly large building, and then let out a joyous whoop and ran up to a Dark Elf that was strolling by. She nearly tackled him with her enthusiasm, and he seemed quite taken aback as the bouncing Imperial bombarded him with questions about the monks within. Visthaalu let out a tired sniffle of laughter as he watched the sight from his seat on the pole fence that ran along the outskirts of the construction.
"This is Weynon Priory, isn't it? We've finally found it? Oh, thank whatever Gods might be out there right now! I'm so happy I could… well, we won't go into that," Cania babbled, suddenly grabbing the poor Dunmer by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. "Do you know what this means?" The elf shook his head, his red eyes wide with fear. "It means I can finally get rid of this bloody Amulet and have someone else worry about the impending apocalypse," she shouted, laughing wildly as she darted in through the main door of the Priory with an ecstatic whoop of joy. Visthaalu eased himself off of the fence and sauntered over to the Dunmer stable-hand who was still trying to catch his breath from the sudden assault.
"I apologize for my friend's behavior," he hissed coolly, "we've merely had a long and rather trying day." The shocked Dark Elf nodded slightly, cowering in the shadow of the massive Argonian. With that, Visthaalu slowly followed Cania in through the doors of the Priory, where he saw Cania speaking to an aged monk dressed in long black robes. She had plopped herself into a small, wooden chair and was demanding to see someone named Jauffre, her eyes still bright with excitement. The monk shook his head.
"I'm sorry, my child, but Jauffre is asleep upstairs. You will not be able to speak with him until tomorrow." At those words, Cania's heart fell.
"What? No, you don't understand, Prior! I really, really need to talk to him! See, look, I have to give him this!" She pulled out the Amulet of Kings and showed it to the Prior, her face now taking on an impatient cast. The Prior's eyes went wide.
"Where did you get that?"
"Look, that's information that I need to give to Jauffre. You don't factor into this."
"Well, I had better begin to 'factor in,' young lady, for you are remaining right here until you tell me what in the name of Oblivion is going on!"
"No," she snarled, suddenly rising from the chair. "You are going to go upstairs, wake up Jauffre, and tell him that he needs to speak with me." Her voice had changed, becoming cold and menacing. "I have traveled too far and fought through too much to deal with this right now. Now, do as I've asked."
"Or what?" The Prior questioned, shocked and indignant. Cania glowered at him and began to open her mouth, when suddenly Visthaalu interposed himself between the two of them. She glared angrily at the interruption.
"Pay her no mind, Prior," Visthaalu murmured, gently pressing Cania back into her seat. "We have both had a difficult journey today. Perhaps we could rest here and then speak with this Jauffre in the morning?" The Prior seemed to consider his words, pressing a gnarled hand to his lips as his dark grey eyes examined the girl fuming behind the frame of the Argonian. Visthaalu paused for a moment, then adjusted his stance slightly. "Unless, of course, you wish us to do something that we would all regret," his voice lowered to a growl at the last word, and his eyes narrowed expectantly at the elderly man before him.
"Very well," the Prior began, throwing his hands up slightly in defeat. "You will rest here tonight, but by the Nine, you will explain yourselves to Jauffre and I come morning."
"We wish nothing more," Visthaalu replied, a smirk creeping across his scarred face. "Come, little Imperial. Rest would be a welcome remedy for your moodiness, I think." Cania rolled her eyes and sighed, lifting herself heavily from the chair and shoving the Amulet back into her pack like a petulant child.
"Fine. But we finish this tomorrow," she grumbled, following the Abbot up to their rooms.
"Of course," Visthaalu patronized.
Cania was curled up on her rather uncomfortable cot in the tiny guestroom, scowling at the wall opposite her. She could hear Visthaalu shifting on his bed and the sound of his slow, even breathing to her right. "You made quite the fool of yourself, little one," he murmured, attempting to keep his deep, hissing voice quiet. "These monks cannot be won over with such threats. Those are better reserved for the Legion and the bandits that would hinder us on the road. Or merchants." She rolled her eyes.
"Just shut up and go to sleep," she growled, slamming her pillow over her head. Both of them lay silent for a few moments, listening to the mournful wailing of the wind outside their lone window. Visthaalu readjusted himself again. He is seriously too calm right now. We're about to get shoved into something that neither of us is ready to take on unless I can talk this 'Jauffre' guy into letting someone else handle this.
"Have you ever noticed that the birds always sing most beautifully right before the rain?"
"What?"
"Listen." She did, but heard nothing.
"Don't tell me you're already going insane."
"Shh," he commanded quietly. With a frustrated sigh, she focused all of her concentration on listening for something—anything, really. Finally, she heard it: the sprightly chirping of some night bird or other. Another joined it, and then another, until the night was alive with the song of those birds. It went on like that for quite a while, until suddenly she began to hear the gentle patter of rain against the window. The song became louder as the rain grew stronger, until it seemed almost as if the rain was an accompaniment to the melody of the birds. Finally, the birds' requiem fell away, leaving only the hard, driving rhythm of the cold rain against the window.
"Sometimes I wonder whether they rejoice at the rain's arrival, or if they try to persuade it to stop," Visthaalu murmured after a time. "In any case, they seem to accept it in the end."
"Wait a minute. How did you know it was going to rain?" He laughed.
"Call it an Argonian's intuition. We know the water."
"If you say so." Again, they were silent for a time, both listening to the insistent pounding of the rain on the priory roof. For some reason, she felt much calmer now. The rain was soothing, in a way—there was something constant and reassuring about it. She shrugged off the feeling, somewhat disturbed by it. She felt herself drifting off to sleep, but lingered a moment before she finally found herself snoring contentedly in the tiny room.
"I wonder how you will sing when the storm finally begins," Visthaalu murmured to the sleeping Cania, his expression softened slightly. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he allowed himself to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning found the two of them sitting in front of a small table, awaiting the arrival of Jauffre. Cania was in a much-improved mood, and cradled the Amulet in both hands as she began to think of what to say to the monk. Finally, a rather old man strode into the room, his posture stiff and rigid as if he were performing some sort of military ritual. He stood before them for a long moment, scrutinizing them with a stern eye, picking out every individual flaw and wrinkle on their persons. Finally, seemingly satisfied, he lowered himself slowly into a chair across the table from them, wincing slightly as his back protested. Cania quirked an eyebrow at the old man as he glared at them silently for a long moment, letting his gnarled fingers twine together in thought.
"Uh... Are you... Brother Jauffre?" Cania asked hesitantly, glancing at her large Argonian companion. Visthaalu shrugged slightly, rolling his eyes in annoyance as the man in question remained silent another long moment. Finally, the monk leaned back in his chair and spoke, his voice hollow yet surprisingly crisp for a man of his age.
"I am Brother Jauffre... What do you want?"
"Well... It's not what I want per se... The Emperor sent me to find you," Cania replied, relaxing slightly at the fact that she'd finally found the man. Unfortunately, Jauffre did not seem so pleased to hear her words, his thin eyebrows coming together sharply and his cold grey eyes narrowing.
"Emperor Uriel? Do you know something about his death?"
"Well, yeah... I was kinda there when he died." The old man scowled at this, leaning forward again almost threateningly and pointing a long finger at her.
"You had better explain yourself. Now," he demanded, looking for all the world as if he were going to either have her executed on the spot or arrested by the Imperial Legion. Cania blinked, and then remembered the Amulet of Kings safe in her palms and she quickly stuttered out the words, "He gave me the Amulet of Kings!" Jauffre scoffed, rolling his eyes at the young Imperial. "You brought me the Amulet of Kings? This cannot be. Let me see it."
Slowly, Cania lifted the glittering Amulet and set it gingerly on the table, pushing it forward and offering it to Jauffre, whose eyes were now wide with shock and disbelief. "By the Nine," he murmured, his voice awed, "this is the Amulet of Kings." Finally, he lifted his eyes back to Cania, a curious frown crossing his face. "Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor's death?"
Cania sighed, slumping back in her chair slightly. "It's a loooong story."
(time elapse of wonders... go back and read the previous five chapters if you really wanna know)
Jauffre sat silent for a long moment after Cania finished telling her tale, Visthaalu interjecting every so often when he felt it was necessary, trying to soak everything in. Cania shifted nervously in her seat as he stared at the Amulet, wondering if she would finally be free of this undesired responsibility and praying to any gods that might have been out there that she would. Finally, Jauffre let out a tired sigh and rubbed his forehead before looking at her again. "As unlikely as your tale sounds," he began slowly, his eyes softening a little bit, "I believe you." Cania let out a relieved sigh and relaxed back into her chair at this. "Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings," he finished with a bitter chuckle.
Cania looked him over for a second, and then curiosity took over. "What did he mean, 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion...?'" Jauffre frowned slightly and folded his arms over his chest with a slight shrug.
"His meaning is unclear to me as well. The Emperor seemed to perceive some threat from the demonic world of Oblivion. The Prince of Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon, whom he also mentioned, is one of the Lords of Oblivion," he explained quietly, almost as if trying to make himself understand as well, and then his frown deepened as he realized something else. "But the mortal world is protected from the daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers." Cania blinked, looking over at Visthaalu, who looked just as puzzled as she did.
"So... how can Oblivion threaten us, then?" Jauffre shook his head slowly.
"I'm not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind the rituals of coronation. The Amulet of Kings is ancient. Saint Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power. When an Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet of Kings to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires in the Temple will be dark for the first time in centuries," he explained patiently once more, his gnarled fingers drumming on the wooden table as he pondered his own words. "It may be that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of," he finished quietly. Cania sighed, rubbing the back of her neck and deciding to just get to the point.
"Well... The Emperor asked me to find his son."
Jauffre blinked and looked up at her. "His son?" He hesitated a moment and then nodded to himself. "Yes... I am one of the few that know of his existence. Many years ago, I served as Captain of Uriel's bodyguards, the Blades. One night, Uriel called me into his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe." Jauffre sighed and leaned back in his seat, turning his head slightly to glance out the window toward the southwest. "He never told me anything else about the baby, but I know that it was his son. From time to time he would ask about the child's progress. Now, it seems this illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim Throne," he concluded with a nod, and then frowned as he looked back toward Cania. "If he yet lives."
Cania sighed. She never asked for three hours of back story, she just wanted to get things over and done with so she could get on with her own life doing... well, whatever it was she'd been doing before she got imprisoned. "Look, just tell me where I can find Uriel's son so I can finish this." Jauffre gave her a look of reprimand, but said nothing to the effect.
"His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh in the chapel of Kvatch, south of here. You must go to Kvatch and find him at once. If the enemy is aware of his existence, as seems likely, he is in terrible danger." Cania quirked an eyebrow at this and looked at Visthaalu.
"Terrible danger? I didn't sign up for terrible danger. I was just planning on passing the message along and washing my hands of this business for good." Visthaalu shrugged slightly, then looked at Jauffre.
"Do not listen to her... She is a valiant woman in coward's attire."
"Hey!"
Jauffre smirked. "I'm sure... Oh, and if there's anything you need, please let me know. My resources here are limited, but I will help you in any way I can." Cania folded her arms over her chest huffily and didn't respond, glaring at both old man and Argonian alike. Jauffre grew stern again at this and stood. "Waste no time. You must find Martin before the enemy does."
Cania finally got to her feet, grumbling under her breath in annoyance as she reached for the Amulet of Kings once more, only to get her hand smacked away smartly by Jauffre. "What gives, old man?"
"The Amulet of Kings will be safer here with me."
"...Fine." She nodded to Visthaalu as she walked back down the stairs, gesturing for him to follow. "Lovely mess you've gotten us into, scar-face." Visthaalu chuckled.
"Ah, but certain death brings a level of excitement to our otherwise boring lives, does it not?"
"Just shut up," she growled, finally making it to the door of the Priory only to get stopped by Prior Maborel yet again. "What now?" The Prior blinked at her snippy tone and shifted slightly under her glare.
"I was just going to offer you my horse... I have no need of it, and I imagine it would serve you well in your journey. It's the paint out back in the stables."
Cania quirked an eyebrow at him. "Uh... thanks, I guess."
"Of course," he replied with a small, devious smirk before heading back over to his chair and sitting down once again. Cania sighed and finally stepped outside into the cheery sunlight and a nice swarm of tiny gnats hovering around the open well in front of the Priory.
"...I hate bugs so very much," she sighed, coughing as a few of the gnats invaded her mouth when she spoke. Visthaalu laughed and shook his head.
"So... Are you going to take the Prior's kind offer of a steed?" Cania wrinkled her nose slightly, spitting out the remains of the tiny bugs as she finally turned and walked over toward the stables, blinking as the Dunmer stablehand who was guiding a small herd of sheep suddenly turned and ran the opposite direction.
"...What's up with him?"
"I think you may have frightened him."
"Oh. Right," she sighed, then turned her eyes to the large, old paint horse giving her an irritated look from over the stable railings. She took a deep breath and slowly approached the already saddled beast, murmuring quiet, soothing words to it as she slowly worked her way into the saddle and then directing it out of the stable and onto the road. Visthaalu chuckled as he watched her holding onto the horse's neck for dear life, only one eye open as she glanced nervously around the terrain. Suddenly, one of the sheep brushed against the horse and spooked it, causing it to rear up with a loud whinny and charge off in the direction of Kvatch at its rather pathetic full speed, Cania letting out a horrified shriek of terror as Visthaalu laughed and ran behind with ease.
"I hate horses!!!"