Act I: Burning Stars: Chapter I
-Sorex-
“Mercer, have you seen Petyr around?” I inquired with all due respect.
Mercer frowned,”If i’m not mistaken, he left with Brynjolf but a few minutes ago. “
I gave him a quizzical look,”Where are they going?”
“I don’t know about Petyr,” Mercer sighed, crossing his arms contemptuously as he always did,”I believe they are visiting our violent brothers of the west. Something to do with a client of Petyr’s. Of course, Brynjolf says little, leaving me to scrounge up the rest of my plan in isolation."
I tried to grin optimistically.”We’ll find him, Frey. If she’s out there, we’ll find him. Speaking of which, have you analyzed the Honningbrew letters yet?”
He nodded reluctantly,”Of course I have. Even then, I’m still not sure who it is. I do believe, however, that one of our contacts in Solitude knows. I’ll be sending Vex over while you’re gone, if you have no objections. Oh, and take care Brynjolf doesn’t get himself killed, I fear we’ll need his help to catch...whoever it is we’re chasing ” Mercer finished off with a brusque tone.
I nodded, and bounded to the stables quickly. If I knew Brynjolf, he took long to prepare his horse, Grey Veil, he called it. Seemed a rather queer name to myself, but I knew better than to object to one of the Guild Masters.
“Petyr!” I shouted, running over to him.
He looked different than I’d remembered, he was clean shaven, a rare sight indeed; although perhaps not the best one. Without his facial hair, Petyr’s face appeared scarred all over, giving him a brutish appearance, which contradicted his slender physique.
Petyr gave a cocked smile in reply,” So, you’ve decided to join us?”
I untied a deep chestnut horse, and brought him over to the pair, before firmly mounting him,”As you can see, yes. Although I wanted to speak with you, actually.”
Brynjolf rolled his eyes; Petyr and I were closer than most thieves’ should have been, but I suppose I was not a true thief, but a mere smuggler at best. He however, was true skilled pickpocket, rivaling even the best of the Guild.
Petyr nodded,”Well Sorex, we can speak just fine, we have a two or three day’s travel ahead of us anyways. Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?”
“Taruck” The name sent chills down Petyr’s spine," He wishes to meet you, once more. He requests compensation for his money, and believe me is quite… ‘fueled’ to acquire it.”
Petyr shook his head slowly,”No, no, no. Promise me, Sorex you’ll keep that damn Orc AWAY. He can’t have his money back. I refuse to meet with him.”
I interjected quickly,”You know you can’t refute him-”
“You refuse to return to that woman, Delphine, was it? After all, she gave you the horn, and you returned it. Then what, you vanished. You were gone. Perhaps I wish the same.”
“I left her and the Greybeards, because i wanted no part in their ‘prophecy’.I couldn’t care less what they wanted from me. I am no man of prophecy, no Dragonborn. Besides, I could use my abilities to aid myself, and that was all that mattered, even you with your strange meaning of honor, understands that.”
We continued in silence, traveling down the mountains of the Rift, deep into watered and weathered valley below. Beyond small peaks and rises, one could spot travelling caravans and merchants making haste before to reach an Inn or a town before nightfall.
“Sorex,” Petyr whimpered.
I gave turned my head over to him in reply.
“Will you ever teach me? The Voice or.. magic?”
I frowned,”It is doubtful, my friend. I don’t give away my arts without a price, and even then, what I practice is particularly rare. Without a firm comprehension of basic Alteration, Conjuration, and Illusion magics, performance of my kind is nigh impossible. “ I added in the final sentence almost pompously, but mostly with pride.
“Then, how did you learn? Forgive my curiosity, but even with myself, you are.. quiet.”
“I am quiet because silence is my preference. But, if you must know, I attended the Mages’ College in Bravil. It gave me what I needed, before I continued on in search of more, deeper,more interesting, magics.” I paused before continuing,”Perhaps someday, when you’ve the need for it, but for now, we must head to Falkreath, and now that we’re on the subject you could answer a question of mine… Why are we meeting with the Brotherhood?”
Petyr opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Brynjolf,”Delvin believes there’s trouble stirring about, and if there is, it means our ties with them must be cut off. Hopefully Astrid will be able to satiate these rumours with good news.”
I nodded understandingly, as we continued down the winding paths. Through the talk, I hadn't even realized that we’d actually traveled relatively far, considering we not as much galloped.
I began once again, with a more irritating tone than earlier,”Petyr, I strongly urge you consider speaking with Taruck. He’ll no doubt find you in godspeed, and if you give him compensation you’re rid of him forever.”
“I told you I won’t speak to that devil of a pariah. He can hunt me down if he wants, and when he does, if he gives me good enough reason, i’ll pay him back.”
“No, Petyr, that’s not good enough,” I barked viciously, before attempting to retain my tranquility,” You don’t know him as well as I do, he will come for you, and he won’t be asking politely for it; Taruck will wrench the money from your rotting corpse, if you give him the chance.”
Petyr carved a smug expression on to his face,”That’s why I won’t give him the chance.”
Petyr was stubborn, but so was I. Our argument continued for hours on end, with Brynjolf occasionally throwing in a disputable point to rekindle the flames for his own amusement.
Soon enough we’d stopped for the night. We had reached a wide and flat peice of land, just to the side of the road.The grass smelled sweet from nights’ past rain, and only a few meters away, a silently flowing creek homed salmon of all kinds.
Brynjolf pitched the tents with impressive speed, particularly since it was so large. The tent itself was made from surprisingly thick leathers on the outside, but within a multitude of furs hung from the walls.
I sat by the riverside, watching the salmon jump from elevation to elevation. Each time appearing more impossible. The night was indeed dark, but Secunda shined brightly above the campsite.
A voice looming from the campsite called out,”Come now, Sorex, don’t tell me you’ve softened to watching fish?”
I jumped up to my feet and turned around to face Petyr,”Softened isn’t the word I would use. I’m more of an admirer, really.”
Petyr’s sly grin would’ve been noticeable even without the moonlight,”I was thinking about what you said, about Taruck. I’m sure I could fight him. I believe you know well I’m decent with a blade.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bryn watching from within the tent with a smile of satisfaction. I’d a feeling he set thoughts into Petyr’s head, but i wasn’t about to address it.
“You think so? Taruck fights better than myself, the difference between us and you, is that we fight intelligently, and you don’t.” I emphasized the final words to attempt a reaction out of him.
Petyr drew a silver sword from a leather scabbard at his hip. The blade was wide and mostly dull, the handle almost gave off a dusted appearance. He held the sword with both of his hands, although his right hand hung to the edge of the pommel.
I opened my palms, allowing a deep violet orb to encapsulate my energy. The air seemed to become significantly cooler, although my body remained ardent. Within seconds I vanished in a flash of bright light, only to appear as four more.
My shadows each wearing the same black guild armor as my self, and every one with my identical appearance; although only one was truly myself. Petyr dashed forward, swinging wildly at the first shadow. My shadow blocked his blow, and sidestepped repeatedly to stay away from the boy’s blade. I watched for several minutes, as he fought against my shadows, each time I made sure their strikes were weak, but they sent a message.
As I observed I noted several interesting things about him; he was ferocious, and persistent to say the least. He swung with great strength but lesser accuracy. His overall form was decent, although no match for a true expert of swordsmanship.
I dispelled my variations, and brought all of my energy into the ground beneath me. Sure as the sun, raw acidic magicka seeped from the earth, forming a perfect circle around me. Beneath my boots, several runes and incantations drew themselves into the fertile soil. I drew my energy from the magicka, and brought forth another form of raw magicka; fire. An orb the size of a small boy; the pure melting heat dripped down across the ground as I held it in the space between my hands. With a little energy I pushed it forward, releasing my focus.
It hurtled towards Petyr rapidly, but he was able to roll under it as he continued his charge towards me. The moonlight, however, was my ally and his enemy. I waited patiently within my circle, placing more and more energy within it until he was about to step inside.As Pteyr entered,I shouted ‘Fus’ stunning him and leaving him still in his place.
In that instant, I refracted the moonlight upon his blade, transporting myself about a meter away from the circle, as it closed on itself, and became a human-sized shell made of hardened earth.
I could hear him pounding on the sides, to get out, but I waited a minute to watch in humour, before I brought down the shell, and released the magicka back to Nirn’s reserves.
He exited combat as adamant as he entered,” Magic is a coward’s weapon. I’d beat you in swordsmanship, it’s plenty clear.”
“Yes, but as you well know, Taruck is quite fond of magic. Particularly Conjuration.” I remarked.
“Yes, but he is no Dragonborn…” Petyr whined
.
I raised an eyebrow,”Neither am I. My ability to use the Voice, is simply my utilization of the shadows; more specifically, when one pursues shadow magic, they enter an entirely different world. You begin to realize that every event, everything that is natural and unnatural has infinite possible shadows. When I use the Voice, I am only representing a single shadow, which is Dragonborn. That being said, my abilities are limited.”
“How, couldn’t one shadow have you as a Daedric Prince or an Aedra?”
“Not quite. Shadow magic, much like all magic, has rules. I will never achieve the same amount of power as Akatosh or Boethiah; but I could potentially rival most mortals. Perhaps someday, i’ll explain it in greater depth. All you must know for now, is that one who is a practitioner of shadow magic must realize that he is infinite yet isolated as a single being.”
“I’m not quite sure I follow.” Petyr’s puzzled expression gave him away more than his words.
I smiled with a hint of sympathy," It is no matter. Not for now, at least. I'll explain more tomorrow, for now though, we must eat."
