Chào các bạn! Vì nhiều lý do từ nay Truyen2U chính thức đổi tên là Truyen247.Pro. Mong các bạn tiếp tục ủng hộ truy cập tên miền mới này nhé! Mãi yêu... ♥

Chapter 18: Revelation

I really recommend that you listen to the music in the media section as you read this chapter, too. It really sets the mood. ^^

And, despite its challenges, this has been a relatively fun chapter to write, and I have a feeling that shippers will probably enjoy this chapter because reasons. Enjoy it while it lasts. >:3

Enough from me. Hope you enjoy the chapter! 

___________________________________________________________________________________

I somehow made my way down the set of steps to the building without slipping, which was really a small miracle, seeing as they had been coated with ice in several places, and I hadn't been particularly aware of this at the time. My thoughts were a mess, as were my emotions, and, despite my best efforts, I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes - whether they were caused by anger or sadness, I wasn't sure - , and I felt slightly sick as I walked towards Snjall, intending to take my things and be off. As I approached, the horse lifted his head to look at me, seemingly confused by my current state, but I did my best to ignore him, untying my satchel from the other baggage somewhat clumsily, as my movements were sharp and agitated. I was attempting to heft the cumbersome bag's strap over my shoulder when I heard a somewhat surprised remark, "So, you actually were serious about leaving."


I straightened up immediately and dropped my things with a shocked yelp, turning around to face Nightbrook, standing there with his arms crossed and practically radiating disapproval; even though I couldn't see his face, I was certain he would've been frowning.


"And what reasons would I have to stay, after that, hm?" I shot back acidly, not particularly caring that I was lashing out at a third party mostly undeserving of my anger, "He made it quite clear he doesn't want me around, and it's not like I came here to serve as a footstool to self-pitying liars."


"Miss Abgrall, I understand why you're frustrated with the Dragonborn, but, at the very least, you must know separating from the group in such a terrible and remote area as this is not an advisable - or wise - course of action. I feel I have to ask you to reconsider what you're doing -"


"So I should stay here, then? I should stick around after being lied to and put down simply because it's so dangerous to traverse the wilderness alone? I can take care of myself, thank you very much."


"I'm not doubting your capabilities in the slightest, Miss Abgrall. I certainly wouldn't go traipsing down the Seven-Thousand Steps alone; we faced a blood dragon on the way up here, who's to say there won't be something of equal danger or worse waiting for us on the way down?" the thief reasoned, "I'm not saying that you should spend time around him while we're up here, but going back down as a group would be wisest, in my opinion."


"I... I guess you're right about that," I sighed, cooling down slightly, "But I really don't want to be here after, well, that. I'm sure you can understand why."


"I do; very clearly, in fact, Miss Abgrall. It was an unfortunate and untrue choice of words on his part."


"It was?" I asked, caught somewhere between being curious about and surprised by his choice of words.


"If you'll allow me to explain everything in full, I will do my best to help you understand what I mean," Nightbrook responded almost cheerfully, but then his tone changed to a more serious one as he added, "Come. Walk with me."


With those simple words, he started off, and left me to follow him somewhat exasperatedly, and, not for the first time, I wished that he'd actually be straightforward for once rather than beating around the bush for whatever dramatic effect he was trying to achieve.


"We'd better not be headed back inside..." I muttered, making a note of warning and annoyance clear in my voice as I spoke.


"Do you really think that I'd be foolish enough to try to bring you and the Dragonborn face to face after such a nasty spat? I might as well just take a casual stroll in a giant camp," Nightbrook remarked amusedly, stopping to look back at me, "No, I just figured it'd be a good idea to at least find a place for us to sit before I even attempt to explain things. You don't have anything against sitting on the steps, do you?"


Too emotionally exhausted and irate to actually respond to him, I shrugged noncommittally, not really caring one way or the other. Nightbrook just stared at me for a moment, and then looked away, starting his path back towards the final set of steps to the monastery. He stopped at the bottom stair, and, brushing the snow off of them, waited until I had caught up to him and until I had taken a seat before he sat down himself.


"Where to begin..." Nightbrook half-sighed, and it was then I noticed that his usual cool and mysterious attitude had all but disappeared, and he just sounded fatigued as he continued, "I know this goes without saying, but it's been a very stressful trip up here for us all, between that incident with the blood dragon and the... other incident, though I believe it has affected the Dragonborn most of all. I do not claim to know what he is dealing with, but I can certainly guess, and, seeing his current situation in the world, I honestly can't blame him for not wishing to share his true identity with either of us - though I can understand your anger at being lied to; that is a justifiable and reasonable reaction to that sort of thing. Tell me, how much do you know of Skyrim's current political situation?"


"Is there a point to this?" I asked, continuing in a slightly irritated tone, "I know enough that there's a war going on because some Stormcloak person decided he wanted the throne, and killed a king and started a rebellion, and that dragons are returning and screwing things up, which is pretty obvious. And despite being related to Torygg, and being the Dragonborn, Helgír has done nothing to improve either situation, so far-"


"Would it change your tone at all if I informed you that the Dragonborn was, in fact, not the next in line for the throne, and that, originally, the heir to the throne was a sibling of his, who, incidentally, met his untimely end just days after his father's death? Though I may be reading into this incorrectly, I strongly suspect that the Dragonborn leaving that life behind was an act of self-preservation on his part, and I can't blame him; I'd do the same thing, more likely than not. And, though I do not claim to be an expert on those with dragon blood in the slightest, after witnessing him Shout and seeing his... unexpected response to absorbing a soul, I assume something is off there. I'd say that our friend is very unlucky in all of the best - and worst - ways, and he seems to still be figuring things out for himself. He is clearly afraid of something, that I can tell for certain, and this fear seems to be very much out of his control - which was possibly the reason he spun himself a false backstory to begin with, though I can't be certain," Nightbrook broke off here, taking a deep breath, and, his voice taking on an even more serious voice than before, he added, "But none of this justifies how he lashed out at you in the slightest. Miss Abgrall, you are not in the slightest a 'nobody', and you should know that. If anyone in this company could be considered a 'nobody' at this moment in time, I'd say it's the Dragonborn himself - he's made it clear he really wants nothing to do with either of his titles, and hasn't done anything particularly heroic -, but that's not the point I'm trying to make.


"From what I know about you, Miss Abgrall, I think it takes a lot of courage and determination to walk away from a relatively comfortable life and into the unknown, and the kind of resolve it takes to work towards your goals despite the challenges that arise is very admirable. Though you're still a ways from the College, or finding any sort of niche for yourself there, you've still been making an impact on this land. You've helped kill two dragons, have you not? That's certainly a start to earning an outstanding public reputation for yourself. It's also clear to me that Destruction magic seems to come quite easily to you, despite your current lack of experience with it. I have a feeling that you'll do great things in the future, gods willing.


"And another thing. Though I can't claim to know what kind of feelings the Dragonborn has towards you, he seems to care about you quite a bit, and I think he's well aware he's made a rather large blunder. Whether he decides to make amends or not, and if you decide to stay long enough to find out, however, remains to be seen. Just know that, whatever your decision, I will gladly leave High Hrothgar with you, unless you'd prefer to make the treacherous journey back down the Seven-Thousand Steps by yourself, which, again, is a highly inadvisable action."


"I... I think I'll stay here - for a bit, anyways," I paused for a moment, still slightly overwhelmed by Nightbrook's monologue of sorts, before adding, "And thank you. Though Helgír has a lot to answer for the next time I see him."


"That he does."


A comfortable silence fell between us after his statement that lasted for a few seconds, but I eventually broke it with, "I have to ask, why on Nirn would you want to leave with me? I thought you joined our company because you were interested in traveling with Helgír..." 


"Ah, but that's not true. If I recall correctly, I mentioned both of you having captured my interest, and, to be entirely honest, the Dragonborn has proven to be nowhere near as pleasant to be around as you have been, and, as a matter of fact, I find your current situation far more intriguing than his.I can't pinpoint why, but I have a feeling there's more to you than you realize. And that is the kind of feeling that holds my attention; my regard for titles is quite short-lived if they turn out to be meaningless. All of that aside, I have to admit that I've become rather fond of traveling with you, and for the first time in a while, I haven't been utterly bored out of my mind. I have you to thank for that."


"Thanks, I guess?" I wasn't quite sure how to reply to that, and I could feel heat rising to my cheeks at his reply, to my embarrassment. By Arkay, get a grip on yourself. It's not like he meant it that way, I thought to myself awkwardly, deciding to look away in hopes that Nightbrook hadn't noticed my change in mood.


The mer let out an amused noise in response, and that managed to make me feel even more embarrassed than I'd been before, somehow. There was another long pause in our conversation, though this time it was a painfully awkward one on my part, though Nightbrook seemed entirely content with staring off into the distance. It was then I really took the time to notice our surroundings, and, though the winds and flurries from earlier had died off, it was still quite overcast, and I couldn't really tell what time of day it was. Despite the monotone grey of the sky, however, our surroundings had a peaceful feeling to them, and, for the first time since I'd woken up that morning, I felt myself relaxing slightly.


"I've been thinking," Nightbrook started suddenly, turning to look at me as he spoke, "Perhaps I owe you a few answers, myself. You've been perfectly open to me, and, though I have my reasons for being cautious, I figure it won't hurt to let you know a bit more about me. Though you'll have to come up with questions, and I still have the right to refuse to answer some."


I was caught a bit off-guard by this sudden show of trust, but decided I might as well take advantage of it, and I immediately knew the first thing I would ask him.


"So, does that mean you'll finally take off that obnoxious-"


"I'm afraid not, Miss Abgrall. The hood stays on."


"Of course," I sighed, though at this point, I had kind of been expecting that answer, "Something else, then. Hm... Well, do you have anything against answering where you're from?"


"I'm from Cyrodiil, originally. To be specific, I was born in Anvil."


"Wait. Cyrodiil? You're not an Imperial, though. Are you?" I was pretty certain he was an elf of some sort, but I could've been wrong. Perhaps he was a half-elf, or-


"Not at all," Nightbrook replied, and it was clear he found that question somewhat amusing, "My mother was a Bosmer who'd moved to Cyrodiil from Arenthia, and my father was an ex-justiciar from the Summerset Isles. As a matter of fact, that's one of the several reasons I will not wear my hood down. The Dominion doesn't particularly like half-breeds; and those of any sort of Altmer lineage are viewed by them as abominations, really. And, as would be expected, they are highly against mixed-race relationships between an Altmer and a person of a different race, and the Dominion is not exactly passive when making their distaste known. I'm almost certain they had something to do with my father's untimely demise, but... There's not really much that can be done about that, even if that is the case."


"...Oh. I'm very sorry for your loss."


"Well, it happened quite a while ago, but thank you all the same. I've done my best to distance myself from that particular memory anyways."


"Out of curiosity, how long is "quite a while"?"


"It happened during my early childhood, so I'd can easily say it's been well over a century. Probably two," Nightbrook shrugged, his tone obnoxiously nonchalant.


"What. You... you're just messing with me, aren't you," I laughed awkwardly, certain that he had to be exaggerating, "If you didn't want to tell me, you could've just said so-"


"I've told you nothing but the truth."


"... Then how old does that make you, exactly?"


Nightbrook sighed, and there was a slight pause before he answered my question, "I'd say somewhere around three-hundred and twenty-four, give or take a year."


"I... I honestly don't know what to say to that," I remarked, unthinkingly blurting, "Gods, you're a lot older than I thought you were."


The thief stiffened at this, and, in a slightly offended tone, he shot back, "Age is a rather relative concept, I'd say. Mer tend to live for centuries, sometimes even millennia. Human lives tend to be unfortunately short - by our standards, at least."


"Whatever you say," I shrugged, and, with a small laugh, I continued jokingly, "Actually, I think I've just discovered the real reason you keep that hood of yours on. You're probably all wrinkled, balding, and elderly-looking, and it'd be terrible for your 'mysterious talented' reputation among present company."


"I am none of those things," Nightbrook remarked defensively, but I could tell he wasn't actually offended as he said laughingly, "You know, I'm really regretting allowing you to ask me questions. It started out as a polite gesture, and now things have gotten downright hurtful! Really, Miss Abgrall, I'm wounded by your harsh words."


"Well, judging by that statement, I take it that you're not particularly keen to continue this at the moment."


"... That would probably be best."


"Actually, I do have one more question - though it's not a particularly personal one. You're... pretty good with locks, right?"


"If by that you mean to ask if I'm experienced at lockpicking, then your answer is yes. I wouldn't be much of a thief if I wasn't capable of forcing locks. ... Why do you ask?"


"I was actually wondering if I could ask you for help with something in that regard," I replied, "One moment. I need to go get something."


I got up from my seat on the stairs carefully, making sure that I didn't accidentally lose my balance on a patch of ice or something of that nature as I approached my satchel, which was still lying on the ground where I'd dropped it when Nightbrook had first confronted me. Luckily, it hadn't gotten too damp, and with a grunt I hefted it onto Snjall's back once again in order to keep my belongings from getting ruined, and, with that done, I opened the bag and went through the contents intently, sorting through books and other odds and ends before coming across a particular leather-bound tome.


It was unassuming-looking enough. The leather front, back, and spine covers of the book were all the same dusty umber color, and they were completely unadorned; there wasn't even any lettering of any sort on it - at least, if there had been, it had all been worn away. What could be seen of the pages within it suggested the book was quite old as well as well-traveled, as the edges were yellowing and crackled when weight was put on its covers. It had clearly seen far better days. The only feature of the book that was really worthy of note was a thick, darker colored strap that, though it was seemingly made of leather, it was considerably stronger than the typical stuff, and it securely held the book together by means of a very unusual lock. Like the book, it wasn't ornate in the slightest, but it was certainly not meant for any normal key, judging by it's odd circular shape. Its width was about a centimeter wide and half a centimeter tall, and the sides of it that weren't surrounded by the leather of the strap had odd little ridges running along the center of it, with no discernible pattern to them, as well as a one millimeter thick gouge in the metal, which was clearly not a part of the lock's original design.


After removing the book, I closed my bag securely before walking back over to Nightbrook, saying, "This is actually a family heirloom, of a sort. Supposedly it belonged to my great-grandmother, but I've never been able to get it open to confirm that. It's been something I've wanted to look into for as long as I've had it, but I don't know much about locks at all, and haven't had a chance to ask anyone before this, really. I was wondering if you could at least identify what kind of lock it is, and possibly be able to get it open?"


"I can certainly try," replied Nightbrook, holding a hand out as he spoke, and I passed him the book, retaking my seat next to him.


Turning the journal in his hands, the thief seemed to study the lock intensely for a few moments, completely silent as he stared at it, and, though I couldn't see the expression on his face, he seemed surprised - perhaps he'd never seen a lock of this kind before?


After a few long moments of silence, the mer finally spoke up, "This seems... oddly familiar."


"What does? The lock?"


Nightbrook merely snorted at my question, "The lock was quite simple to identify. It's a unique one, to be sure, but it's clearly meant to be unlocked by some piece of jewelry. Rather impractical sort of lock to own, really, especially seeing as this one was made for a ring of some sort, and such an accessory could be more easily lost than a key, and, typically, even easier to imitate. But this one... Wait.


An idea seemed to have struck him, his hand instantly going to one of the pockets in his armor, and he withdrew a very familiar object from it.


"Hey, isn't that-"


"Yes, it's that particular ring. I meant to return it to you earlier, but I'll attempt at explaining that later once we find out if this opens this book of yours."


I raised an eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanor; this was the first time I'd heard Nightbrook sound even the slightest bit excited about something, and he seemed almost more eager to get the journal open than I did - which was a bit odd, to say the least.


I was about to ask him about why he'd suddenly gained so much interest in the book, but he spoke again, holding up the piece of jewelry as he continued, "I noticed that there were unique ridges in the lock's center that were clearly implemented to allow only a specific piece of engraved finery to unlock it. And, from the looks of it, it seems to match up quite well with this particular piece. The inscription is written in the Daedric Alphabet, but the inscription is... odd. 'Just how long is it going to take you to misplace this?' is most certainly not something you expect to see written in Daedric script, which is leading me to believe this wasn't created by an actual Daedra, much less any of the Princes. Yet, it couldn't have been created by just anyone, as the likes of the enchantment on this thing and its corresponding lock are something I've never come across before. It seems relatively similar to some sort of advanced Conjuration-based spell, but something's... off about it. I'm not sure it's wise to attempt to open this."


"I - Oh. Does that mean we'll just be leaving it alone, then?" I asked, a bit taken aback by the rather overwhelming amount of information I'd just learned about the journal, and, though I'd never really noticed the enchantment before, I realized that, if I squinted slightly, I could make out a near-transparent purple haze radiating from both lock and ring. I can't believe I never realized it was enchanted until just now. It seems I really have a lot to learn... I thought to myself, Yet another reason for me to try to get to the College as soon as possible, I suppose.


I snapped out of my thoughts when Nightbrook answered my previous question, handing me both of the items as he said, "It's your decision, really. It might not prove to be dangerous at all, or the enchantments on both items might negate one another when the two are put together. Again, I've never really seen anything quite like this."


"I do really want to see what's in this..." I trailed off as I stared at the two objects, unsure. I'd been carrying it around since I'd left home, and it would feel incredibly anticlimactic to just leave it be - and, honestly, I probably would open it sooner or later, now that I had the means to. Though it didn't mean that I was now more than a bit nervous about what might transpire.


Taking a deep breath, I announced, "All right; let's see what this does." 


With that, I carefully set about placing the ring in the journal's keyhole, though, as soon as I placed it near the lock, it rotated in my grip and suddenly slid into place, clearly of it's own accord.


"What the-?"


That's when everything got very strange.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Well, Helvia's certainly done something, hasn't she? Then again, would any of you really expect her to use good judgement where books are concerned?

 Well, onto the questions! Though I thought I should warn you guys, Wattpad did a thing and the comments section freaked out. Like apparently people who still exist and commented are the weird blank face things with no username, and people's usernames have been switched around in the comments and it's generally just weird stuff. It's happened to Thunderphoenix as well, and I'm guessing other people may have had this problem. But it's just a heads-up.

~~~~~

QUESTIONS: 

Question: (Asked by Solienna for Helgír) Do you think some romance in your life would do you any good? :D

Answer: (By Helgír) Honestly, I don't know. I don't think I would make a particularly decent romantic partner for anyone, for certain obvious reasons. And if I care enough about someone to feel romantically inclined towards them, I wouldn't want to involve them in a relationship that would doubtlessly end badly.

Question: (Asked by Solienna for Helvia) Since you're going to the College, what branch of magic are you going to focus on?

Answer: (By Helvia) Well, I already know a bit about Destruction magic, so I'll most likely end up learning more about that branch, though I wouldn't mind learning about Alteration either. Though I don't know if I have the aptitude for it or not. It may be a while before I find out, though, seeing as I'm staying - for the time being, at least.

Question: (Asked by Solienna for Nightbrook) True or false: You would like to morph into a magical pixie dragon and fly away to live on Candy Mountain. c:

Answer: (By Nightbrook) I think that's enough Skooma for one day, friend.

Question: (By Korra12 for Nightbrook) Will you marry me?

Answer: (By Nightbrook) If you've got the Skeleton Key, I'm yours.

Question: (Asked by The_Masked_Wolf for Helvia) What do you expect to happen once you reach Winterhold?

Answer: (By Helvia) Well, hopefully I'll be able to join the College, and hopefully things will work out from there. I'm not sure what I expect aside from that. But I'm pretty sure it'll be really cold up there, judging by how far north it is compared to the other Holds on my map.

Question: (By souperman6 ???? (I'm pretty sure it was someone else, but Wattpad happened.) for Helvia) If you could pick one, who would you pick out of the guys? *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*

Answer: Helvia: Well, seeing as one's a tempermental, rude Dragonborn with no control over himself and the other's a 300 year old mer who's balding and-

Nightbrook: *in the distance* I resent that! And stop it with that, none of that's true in the slightest!

~~~~~

If anyone has any more questions for anyone in Mage, feel free to ask them! If they've appeared in Mage at all, regardless of how long they were a part of the story, they're open to ask questions! ^^

Well, as always, please do leave a vote and/or comment if you enjoyed the chapter, and see you next time! Good adventuring, dear readers!

-AA

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro