AN: Hey guys, I have a question. With Skyrim very very close to its ending, I've been considering what fandom I should write in after this.
The plans I have currently is to continue The Dark Swordsman, since the muse to write Fairy Tail has returned. My other idea is to write one in the Game of Thrones universe, specifically an OC Stark, the brother of Ned Stark. Would anyone be interested in that?
Anyways, hope you like this chapter, cheers!
...
4E 202, Shor's Stone, Ebony Palace
Karliah
She moved quietly through the streets, unseen and unfelt as chaos devoured the city around her.
The Champion of Nocturnal fulfilled three roles in her service to the lady. One of them was the Agent of Stealth, thus the blessing of Lady Nocturnal wrapped around Karliah like a second skin. The Shadowcloak of Nocturnal rendered her invisible not only to sight, but to sound, to presence itself. Even in the midst of dragons and death, she was nothing more than absence.
With this in hand, moving across Shor's Stone unseen was effortless. She slipped past burning buildings and shattered streets, past the screams of the dying and the roar of distant dragons.
Her gaze flickered across the devastation as she passed.
Rubble was everywhere, with blood littering the cobbled streets. The broken constructs of the Automaton Guardians even lay scattered, their mighty forms reduced to twisted scrap by dragonfire and claw. Though they did not fall without a price, as corpses and carcasses of the great dragons existed wherever the dwemer constructs were sundered.
She even saw the bodies of the Fire Brigade—charred, cut down by blade, or crushed beneath rubble. They had not even been warriors. And yet, the draugr had shown no mercy.
Still, Karliah pressed on.
The Ebony Palace rose ahead of her, a dark monolith towering above the city. Even amid ruin, it stood tall, second only to Dragonsreach in sheer presence.
She was nearing it when a surge of power erupted from its direction. Karliah halted as her eyes lifted.
Two figures tore through the sky, 'Humanoids,' she noted.
One of them was wreathed in azure brilliance, while the other was covered in a shining white glow.
Even from this distance, she knew exactly who they were by sight. Savos Aren and Morokei. The weight of magic each one possessed was truly staggering. Not even Mankar Camoran held that much power.
She watched as they both flew away from the city, each leaving a trail of light as they left. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn Morokei's gaze turned downward towards her.
But then that feeling disappeared, as did they, and Karliah exhaled slowly before shaking her head. It wouldn't do to get distracted right now.
A thunderous cheer echoed through the city.
Karliah turned again, this time toward the streets. Soldiers—Legionnaires, Vigilants, guards from every hold who remained living—raised their weapons in triumph. Even Keeper Carcette stood among them, her blade lifted high as voices joined in unison.
The reason for it came not a second later, for the purple portals located within and outside the city were closing one by one.
'Durnehviir must have been killed,' she realized. 'That means…the only one left is…'
Her gaze drifted skyward again.
Far above, a bronze dragon clashed against a creature of pitch-black scales. Their roars shook the heavens, their battle far from over.
'We need to get that Ebony Blade as soon as possible.' Karliah thought. 'I'm counting on you, Aranea.'
By the time she reached the Ebony Palace, the gates were already open. The streets outside of it were filled to the brim with the dead and the corpses of men and women bearing their allied colors.
She saw the soldiers of Winterhold, Shor's Stone, Falkreath, Markarth. All lay together in death, their banners indistinguishable in the pooling blood that stained the ground. She waited for a few heartbeats as she hid in the shadows in an alleyway opposite of the gates, to see if those bodies would rise to become draugr.
Luckily, they didn't, and she continued on. Going past the gates, she was met with the courtyard, where Valerica was here along with Colette and Tolfdir of the College of Winterhold.
They were busy running around the courtyard, where the triage camp had been moved to after the fiasco in Zenithar's Square. There was chaos, for the number of wounded was in the thousands now. Healers rushed from one wounded soldier to another, their hands glowing with restorative magic or clutching crates filled with numerous potions of healing.
They were the lucky ones, truly. Because the new high quality healing potions meant that nothing short of instantly lethal wounds were healable. Especially since Colette Marence was here, loudly considered to be the greatest restoration mage in all of Skyrim.
They were the fragile lifeline amidst devastation, and Karliah could even see Jarl Dengeir and Igmund here, a wicked wound above his right brow that continued to spew blood onto his eye for the former, and a missing arm for the latter.
Karliah bid them no mind as she quietly passed them.
The only 'guards' here were a trio of Automaton Guardians, each one scratched and covered in soot, but remaining vigil since most of the soldiers were already out in the city. Despite that, it seems their presence was enough to calm the resident healers, especially considering this was their last triage area available as the other two had fallen.
The doors to the Palace itself were closed, with the only other entrance being a balcony door open a few floors up. Some of the magicka turrets affixed to the sides were still steadily firing onto the skies, but the amount of dragons still flying had greatly lessened.
She wondered then what trouble Brynjolf spoke of. Whatever happened inside seemed to not have affected anyone out here, at the very least.
Well whatever it was, she wouldn't find out by just standing out here.
Scaling the walls was easy enough for a master thief like her. Not a minute later, she was inside. The interior was dark, which was strange, though that didn't prove to be trouble for her as her eyes adjusted almost instantly, seeing perfectly clear in the dark.
She continued forward, before feeling a presence sneaking around near her. Two presences actually.
The shadows covering her receded, and Vex and Delvin nearly flinched as she appeared by their sides.
"By the Nine, woman!" Delvin whispered. "Don't do that!"
Vex lowered her dagger slowly, though the tension in her posture lingered. "You really enjoy that, don't you?"
"Talk to me," Karliah said simply, "What happened?"
Delvin sighed as he and Vex began leading her deeper through the palace. "We discovered something a little too late. When Lady Serana told us to screen everyone who entered the city, we did. But well, one slipped."
Karliah's expression didn't change, but her attention sharpened.
"Remember the circus troupe that came to the city? Well, we found them dead just minutes before Alduin attacked the city." Vex spoke up then as they passed a bend in the hallway, their steps not making the slightest bit of sound as the three master thieves continued to walk through the Palace. "All except one."
Karliah tried to remember the troupe that Vex talked about. She remembered them coming in through the gates, passing the initial inspection done by the guards and from Brynjolf's investigations. They even performed at the White Wedding after the steward decided that they were worthy of patronage.
"He was an assassin in disguise, a patient one at that since he waited till the attack to actually do something, even when they were in the wedding." Delvin continued.
"Who was their target?" Karliah's gaze darkened. This was unacceptable.
"We think Commander Maro…and Legate Rikke."
That's when they heard it, loud mutterings echoing through the empty halls. "Don't worry mother…Cicero will avenge you…sweet sweet Cicero will avenge you…"
They paused. It clicked to Karliah then. Cicero, the one they called the Mad Jester. A member of the Dark Brotherhood, the one who was said to be missing from the sanctuary when Maro and Rikke stormed it.
Everything certainly made sense now. Why those two specifically were the targets and how an assassin managed to sneak through every single precaution they had. Even the Dragonborn herself said there was something strange and mad about Cicero. The only question now was if Maro himself was already dead.
"Where is the Emperor now?" Karliah asked.
"Underground, guarding the bunkers with the last few Oculatus," Vex replied. "Jarls Elisif and Sorli are with him."
"That's good enough then." Karliah took out her Nightingale's Bow. "Circle around and protect the Emperor in case any more assassins are running around. I'll handle this."
Vex and Delvin gave no complaints as they nodded, turning back the way they came and vanishing down the flight of stairs.
Karliah continued on alone, the muttering of voices growing louder as she approached.
"The man is already dead…yes he is. Only one of them is left, the lady knight, then…the Dragonborn. Oh poor Cicero still remembers his failure. It is Cicero's fault, stupid stupid Cicero…"
Her darkvision saw it then, a trail of blood stretched along the floor, as if a body was dragged through here. Karliah narrowed her eyes at that.
Applying the shadowcloak once more, she carefully walked forward, avoiding any of the blood.
She finally saw him then, a tall Imperial, though his face looked sunken and pallid. His body was gaunt, eyes hollow as if he hadn't eaten in days or weeks.
In one hand, he held a curved dagger that still dripped blood slowly to the floor beneath. In the other, he was dragging the corpse of Commander Maro, his throat slit with obvious signs of torture covering his body.
The mutterings continued once again. "The legate…oh the sweet legate who gave the order to bury mother is out there. Should Cicero come out…or should he wait…maybe Cicero should pay the Emperor a visit? Hmm, yes. Cicero remembered a contract to kill the Emperor, but stupid Nazir never thought to take it…but Nazir is dead…and Cicero is alive! That means…Cicero is leader of the Dark Brotherhood! Oh yes, yes he is! But…what is the Dark Brotherhood without mother…"
Karliah shook her head as she heard all this, 'What a madman.'
What's important now was that she had a clear line of sight. She aimed at his neck, pulling the string of her bow quietly as an arrow of shadows and darkness began to appear upon the draw. She loosed it.
"Oh yes, oh yes. Killing the Emperor…that will certainly make mother proud. Don't worry mother, I will–"
The arrow struck true, puncturing straight through the neck as a A wet, choking gurgle escaped from Cicero's mouth. The curved dagger fell and Maro's body slipped from his grasp. His hands clawed at the arrow, trying to dislodge it or to take in breath.
A futile attempt, for the arrows drawn by Nightingale's Bow cannot be touched by unless allowed by its Champion.
Karliah watched, unfeeling, as Cicero fell to his knees and dropped dead to the ground.
…
4E 202, Shor's Stone
Isran
He was tired, oh by Stendarr above, he was tired.
Not even the Night of Convergence and fighting Harkon made him feel as exhausted as this. Despite being a monster, Harkon was still a person, as twisted and corrupted as he was.
This?
Dragons and draugr. Endless waves of the dead clawing their way back into the world.
There was no reasoning with that. No end to it except destruction.
And it had not stopped. Not for hours.
Isran and Aela had initially been stationed within the city, near the granaries along with the Dawnguard and the Companions. They were the ones tasked with taking down any errant dragons who landed within the city, all to prevent any casualties and prevent any early burnings.
Suffice to say, all that went to shit when fucking Durnehviir made portals that spat out undead by the thousands. Knowing then that killing the damn dragon was paramount, he and Aela had set out to kill it, using Aela's monstrous wolf form to grab the Kruziik right out of the air.
It worked, and the battle that came after was hell, but they did it. A Kruziik was truly dead.
Even now, that fact felt unreal.
Aela shifted beside him, her form shrinking as she returned to her human state. The thick silver fur receded and her bones reshaped, until she stood once more as the Huntress, though blood still soaked into the Savior's Hide that clung to her form.
Without hesitation, Isran stepped forward and pressed both hands to her still bleeding shoulder.
Warm, golden light began to spew out of his hands which elicited a sigh of relief from Aela, whose wounds began to knit together.
"Don't go dying on me now," Isran muttered.
She huffed faintly. "Wasn't planning to."
A gauntleted hand then entered their vision, as a vial appeared between the fingers not a second later. Isran looked up to see Gerron, who held the healing potion towards Aela. She downed it without complaint.
Around them, the others were just as worn.
Mirabelle leaned slightly, her breathing uneven, her complexion pale from overexertion. Gerron handed her another potion—this one a shimmering blue—and she drank it gratefully.
"So…" Mirabelle managed between breaths. "We won."
"We're not finished yet." Serana then stated as a loud shout echoed.
"Aela!" The sudden voice had them all turn, weapons raised by instinct. Despite the true victory of killing Durnehviir, they were all still tense and adrenaline still coursed through their veins.
But the moment Aranea appeared, along with Brynjolf with his nightingale armor, Isran slowly lowered his warhammer, letting it dissolve into motes of golden light.
They both cast surprised looks at Durnehviir's dead form—'Or was it undead form? What do you call the corpse of a dragon that was already dead?'—before shaking her head and continuing to speak.
"Aela, I need your expertise." Aranea said. "I know how we can defeat Alduin."
Her words had everyone's immediate attention, for that was not a boast anyone could make lightly.
Gerron was the first to speak, he truly looked terrifying from the way his Ebony Armor was covered head to toe in blood. "How?"
Aranea then spoke of the vision she had just seen, a truly miraculous journey that took her to the planes of Sovngarde itself. There, she told of the tale of how she saw the Dragonborn, wielding both Dawnbreaker and the Ebony Blade together, defeated Alduin.
"The Ebony Blade could kill Alduin?" Serana exclaimed in surprise.
Isran shared her surprise, for he still remembered the sight of that battle a year ago above High Hrothgar. Looking up into the skies, it was certainly a sight to see. Ever since the start of this whole mess, continuous thunderous booms and explosions had lit the skies above Shor's Stone. They came from the fated battle between the Dragonborn and the World-Eater, whose fight still seems to not even slow down the slightest.
"You said you saw the vision with Karliah?" Gerron asked. "Where is she now?"
It was Brynjolf who answered. "Handling something in the Palace. Trouble came up."
Gerron's posture shifted at that bit of news, and Isran could imagine a frown appearing behind his helm.
"How sure are you?" Isran spoke, eyes focused on the Champion of Azura. "You said it yourself. Alduin broke fate. Your visions aren't certain anymore."
Aranea nodded, already expecting the question. "Because this vision was given to me directly by Lady Azura, with help from Akatosh himself."
Isran blinked. "...Right. That's definitely one way of making things legitimate."
'The Champion of Azura speaks the truth, Isran.' Stendarr once again spoke in his mind. 'I bore witness to this interaction between the Dragon God and the Lady of Dusk and Dawn.'
'Good. Saves me the trouble of doubting it.'
Aela stepped forward then, rolling her shoulder as the last of the pain faded.
"If Akatosh is involved," she said simply, "then I'm listening. What do you need?"
Aranea met her gaze. "The Champion of Mephala, Nelkir. I need you to find him."
"Jarl Balgruuf's son?"
"Yes," Aranea nodded. "He wields the Ebony Blade, it is the part he had to play in all of this madness. His actions in the Night of Convergence were all for today. I presume it is because of the artifacts he had found in Shalidor's Maze, aided as such by Mephala, was the reason why you couldn't find him back then."
Aela perked up then, nose twitching. "There is a scent in the air that's familiar to me, though I had ignored it earlier due to more important matters. I still remember the tracks I found of Nelkir back in Labyrinthian before it disappeared completely."
"I'll come with you, then." Isran said, earning everyone's attention. "It's Mephala that's hiding him, right? Then perhaps I can do something to make finding him easier."
Isran was a former Vigilant and a Dawnguard. Dealing with the Daedra was his business.
Gerron nodded. "Then go. We'll handle things here."
Serana and Mirabelle didn't argue. They were already turning, preparing to rejoin the fight against the remaining undead.
Now that he mentioned it, Isran could still hear it. Behind the ruined buildings and the small mound of bodies and corpses littering the streets, there were still the faint sounds of clashing steel—which had to be the Legate and the Jarl who joined them mid-fight.
"Alright then," Isran said as he bent briefly, retrieving the Spear of the Hunter from where it had fallen. He tossed it toward Aela, who nodded. "Let's get moving."
…
AN: Here finally, I got this chapter out.
The whole Cicero plotline finally comes to an end, the whole reason I made him alive after was for him to become a minor problem and antagonist in the final battle.
Was it a good idea? I don't know. I just thought it was fun to write about so the battle wasn't just a boring dragon vs human fight, rather an external chaotic entity running around making chaos.
Also, I think this is the first ever Karliah POV chapter, which is wild since she actually does a whole bunch of stuff in the background. It also means all of the Champions (except Harkon) have officially been given their own POV's at least once.
Anyways, this chapter should mark the halfway point of the final battle, with only a couple more loose ends to tie up before it is finished.
More chapters are available on my P-word. Chapter 131 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name, TeemVizzle, and you'll find me.
Cheers people and have a nice day.