Komi's Journal
Fall 2E 574
Today our Listener came to my chambers and spoke to me about another job. He said that the Nightmother had requested me to make contact with a Dominion Captain named Larsh. When I left my room the Captain was standing in the main chamber of our sanctuary. I was instantly startled at the sight of him and his men.
“Marco…?” I asked as I turned back to my snickering brothers. It was almost customary for them to make fun of me, but it did not bother me. I may not have the quickest tongue but I was strong and represented the Shadowscales with pride.
“These gentlemen have requested the assassination of a Nord in Skyrim.” Marco stated.
“Why… are they here?” I asked choosing my words carefully.
“Captain Larsh, here, used to be one of us. He’s grown lazy and rich and has requested we handle his dirty work for him.” Mocked Marco to the Captain, it appeared they were old friends. “The contract has already been paid in full.”
“Has the Nightmother truly spoken to you about this contract?” I asked.
Marco seemed astonished by my question. “Uh… yes. Now be off, Komi!”
I collected my intelligence on the target. He was wanted for the kidnapping of some daughter of a High Commander. The warrant was issued by a Captain Estale. Odd, you’d think the High Commander would have issued this warrant, seeing how it was his daughter. As I walked I viewed all the documentation. There were orders of a second company to reclaim the Commanders daughter at a different location. If the boy had kidnapped her, why would he drop her off or why would this Captain know where she is? In the bottom of the satchel I pulled out a small pouch. It was empty about the size of a Deathball, black, with the emblem of a little black bird. The pouch had two strong scents on it: a woman’s… young… she smelled of the isles… the Commander’s Daughter, the other… man… Nord… is also young… my target.
I crossed the border from Black Marsh to Skyrim. The mountains of this country are ridicules, like a giant wall of stone and metal protecting a frigid wasteland. As I stood on the top of the south eastern mountain range I saw a small hold, perhaps Riften. I made camp and set out the next morning. The climb down was hard. Argonian’s are not made to climb mountains, but I managed. As soon as my feet hit the forest ground I picked up his smell. It was unusually strong for being so far to my north.
I took to the tree tops and jumped from limb to tree limb being so soft that not even the leafs would fall. As I moved closer I realized the smell wasn’t of just one man. It was two, but they smelled exactly alike. The only way that would have been possible is if they were in the same places for a long period of time and they were kin. I stopped at a vantage point.
Two men, of the same height and build; one man with a mask and hood, the other no mask but a large steel great sword on his back. Which one was my target? In these situations I wished by Sithis there would be some sort of arrow pointing to the right man, but there was not. They stroll to a large black rock. I only notice it because they move to it but I see it is different, as if it does not belong. The masked man touched it and a door opened. They both went inside.
I had to keep with them so I dove towards the entrance as it closed. My tail tip was crushed as the door closed. I kept silence as I broke free. No matter it will grow back. I trailed the men as they walked down a narrow corridor. The masked one led the other, no torch; he knew his way around. They stopped in front of large shadowed opening. I had good cover; I would wait until one identified himself then strike.
“Hawk,” the masked one spoke. “Over the last five years I have taught you everything I know. You are everything I hoped for in a son. But now it is time to tell you the truth.”
My target was young; it was obvious the unmasked one was him. As I drew my blade in shadow the father removed his mask. The father looked exactly like his son. Like a mirror image. The only difference was the father had a scar on his left cheek and his eyes bright white, like the stars; where his son was untouched with blue eyes. Age had not separated them. I would hold my blade just to be certain.
“I’m ready Dad.”
The father turned to the walls, his hand glow bright with Mage Light. The walls had been covered in a strange writing.
“Hawk, do you know this language?”
“Yeah uhh hang on…” he thought snapping his fingers as if he was remembering a lesson. “The burn marks, large characters spoken into the stone… Dova-script.”
“Yes, the first recorded writing. It’s a story. The Hawk and the Nightingale.”
The boy looked surprised. I sheathed my blade and tucked behind the rock relying on the echoing cave to be my sight as I hid.
“Before the era of men, I sit upon my mountain top, the highest peak to the North of this continent. I see the world growing and changing before my eyes. New species are born every day and I feel a reckoning on the door step of this Realm. I am calmed by the site of two winged animals finding their way to the top of my mountain.
A black bird, sleek and beautiful; I will call her a Nightingale. The other a larger faster bird, dark brown with a breast of black spotted white, eyes able to see across the very world; I will call him a Hawk. Every evening, while the sky is covered in the lights of the gods, these two creatures dance in the sky. A warm love between them has allowed me to close my eyes knowing their lives as well as mine have purpose and reason.
One night the Hawk declared his love to the Nightingale and flew above into the darkness of the sky. He straightened his wings and dived towards the top of the mountain. His wings carried him faster than any Dova could ever fly. The Hawk tried to rise but his speed crippled him and he crashed down on the top of snowy mountain. He lie dead before me. The Nightingale landed to his side and wept at the loss of her mate. She looked up at me and begged me to help, but the Hawks soul had joined the worlds and was gone.
As she lie next to his lifeless body I considered the thought of their lives; innocent, powerful, beautiful. I chose to do as she wished in exchange for the Nightingales servitude to life after her death. I split her soul and breathed life into the Hawk, filling the rest with the power of the Dova. Before my eyes the Hawk had become a man and the Nightingale a woman. They lived out her their days until the passing of both their mortal souls.
On that day the Hawk stood before me, holding the wrapped body of his love. Keeping her promise I brought her back and rose to devote her life to her new form I had given her. The form of the one called Nocturnal. The Hawk felt as though he owed me a debt as well. He declared his duty to me as destroyer of darkness. He had noticed that the life I had given him was that of an immortal. Riches, temptation, and power meant nothing to a man who would live forever. Only peace.” Read the father to the son.
“What does it mean?” asked Hawk.
The father turned extinguishing the mage light. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“Since that day our power has been passed, from father to son, twelve times. All the knowledge, experience, pain, suffering, emotion, I know it all. Immortality is something that tires a soul, my son. I stand before you, in the same place I stood 215 years ago. My father trained me and read from the same wall I have just read to you.” Explained the father.
Hawk took a step back. His father stepped with him placing his hands on his shoulders.
“I’m tired son. You will understand soon…” whispered the father.
“What do I have to do?” gasped Hawk as a tear fell from his eye.
Suddenly from beyond the large black cave to their side a voice bellowed. It was deep and old, loud like from a beast. “You have been trained to wield the dagger, no?”
The surprised boy turned to the shadow as his father dropping one hand from his shoulder.
“Who are you?” asked the boy.
“I… am the author of the families story young Hawk, kasha krosis don. I have guided your father, the old Hawk for some time now, and his father before him. When this ceremony is over, denolik de gras, then I will guide you, godane.” Spoke the now visible Dragon.
This contract is way out of my league. If I were to even show my face, the dragon would kill me instantly, or this immortal would slay me. Keep quiet and maybe you’ll get out here alive.
“The Bound Dagger technique, Sukara Deasa, you have learned will gather the souls of your fathers and join them to your own. You will not lose yourself; you will just gain their experiences, pusta-nas. Imagine a mind with the experience of the ages and a body with the strength of training for over 1000 years. Also, be prepared. The pain you will feel is very intense.” Proclaimed the Dragon.
“Summon the dagger, Hawk.” Asked the kind sounding father.
With a weak gestured lift of the boy’s palm, a bright purple dagger glowing with the power of the soul lie in his hand. His father softly grasped it and placed the tip to his own heart.
“There’s something I need to say.” The dagger began to glow bright; the wisps of white light surrounded them both. “I know its moot seeing how you’ll know in a few moments but I want to say it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were growing up. I couldn’t. Your mother knew what I was from the beginning; she knew what she was getting in too. Later, when I heard your mother was sick, and even though she had me swear to her I wouldn’t come back… I still had to come. The night she passed I-” the father was interrupted.
“I know I saw you that night. That’s why when you saved Sashara and me that night; I knew who you were.” Interrupted the boy.
“Thank you, boy, for being so understanding.” Spoke the father.
I looked up at that moment to see the father pull into the son. Arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace. His father’s arms began to mimic the color of the now wild purple and white wisps surrounding the two. The strips of flying soul began to land on the boy fading into the brown leather covering his body. A sound that resembled hot metal being dropped into water followed. The blade had pierced the father’s heart. I had to close my eyes.
Moments later the sound was gone and the light had faded. I opened my eyes and looked at the boy. He had fallen to his knees and was moaning in either agony, or despair; I couldn’t tell. His eyes were now his father’s eyes. The scar was now on the boys face. The tears no longer fell. The boy caught his breath. He stood slowly pushing off the ground, eyes looking at the world; squinting as if seeing for the first time. He stared at the remains of his father, a pile of armor and gear.
He turned towards the Dragon; his back now to me. He took a breath as if he was to speak but quickly turned his head to the side. The profile of his face showed the glowing bright white eye in my direction; the outlines of the pupil still there.
“You there, Argonian! How deep are your wounds?” spoke the new man, his voice echoing in the hall. The Dragons head rose quickly squaring off with the cover I was hiding behind.
I lowered my head to my tail. My blood had made a small puddle of blood as I had watched the events unfold. I quickly tied it off with a strap from my boot. I collected my thoughts and stood up my hands in the air.
“I mean you no harm, Nord!” I shouted.
“I find that hard to believe, Shadowscale.” Softly replied Hawk as he pointed to my gear; the red hand of Sithis on my chest. “Who sent you?”
“By the order of Captin Estale a bounty has been put on your head for the kidnapping of Sashara Goldmane. But to be honest the evidence makes no sense.” I replied lowering my hand and pulling my intelligence packet out of my satchel. I tossed it to Hawk.
He turned to square off with me. His single hand palmed the packet and began to comb through it. He pulled out the black pouch with the bird emblem on it. His eyes darted side to side putting pieces of the puzzle together.
“To leave this behind, she must have been in a hurry….” Hawk trailed on and off speaking to himself. “Running from… who? Estale… the man from her letters…” Hawk stopped and looked up to me.
“Shadowscale, by choosing to think instead of following orders blindly, you have done a great thing today. If you wish to fulfill your contract you may take my father’s chest armor. The knife cut and blood soaked in it should be ample evidence of your completion of the contract. Perhaps we will meet again.” Spoke Hawk as he quickly turned to the Dragon.
“Paarthanaux! I need a ride.” Demanded Hawk.
“Perhaps we will…” I whispered to myself.