Bond Of Blood

Chapter 42

Morgan ran her hands through her hair and stared at Serana, who gave her a small smile.

"You realise how...insane this all sounds?" Morgan asked her with a bemused grimace.

"You must admit, it does make alot of sense," Serana remarked, taking a sip of blood from her bottle.

"It is not as if stranger things has happened to you, from what Serana has told me," Shea agreed, looking up at her for a moment, her sword on her lap and her sharpening stone in her hand.

"But...Sheogorath is not only a Daedric Prince, but is also one of my relatives?" Morgan muttered.

"Think of it as being a mutual joining," Serana explained. "Sheogorath must have needed a champion at some point, and Lucinda had been the one to answer the summons...or the one that was successful at any rate. I have a feeling that they will be separated soon enough."

Morgan nodded. Her family did have odd connections after all.

My swordplay is derived from that of Akaviri and that of the Shadowscales. I am Dragonborn, and also a Daughter of Sithis. Why are you surprised that you have more secrets in your family tree?

She stared at her two travelling companions and nodded to them in thanks.

"We better get moving soon. If we are to get to Winterhold before sunrise..."

Serana jumped to her feet and smirked at Morgan.

"Then let us get moving. I want to see just what else has happened...that has had nothing to do with your antics."

Morgan snorted and threw a lump of snow at Serana, who yelped and glared at her as the snow dripped off her stunning cheekbones.

I am going to pay for that, but it was worth it.

Morgan ensured that her hood was covering her face as they walked through the centre of Winterhold. Serana had done the same, while Shea had forgone any facial coverings, and walked with them as though the cold didn't bother her.

Her mind was still whirling with the information that Serana had given to her. It seemed as though Lucinda was helping her in a way that would not implicate Sheogorath. Morgan knew that the Princes could only interfere with the affairs of Nirn in small ways...most of the time. But she also had a feeling that what she was doing would affect Lucinda in some way. Morgan did not know what, or even how she knew...she simply knew.

Morgan glanced at the College of Winterhold, most of the structure hidden by torrents of snowfall. She had been wondering what had happened here...the idea that two guards had been drained of their life force suggested a soul trap spell gone awry. But she could not shake the feeling that it was something much, much worse.

As they approached the entrance that would lead them to the bridge that connected Winterhold to the College itself, she noted that a large crowd was surrounding the pathway. And standing there all alone was the elderly mage Tolfdir, who was seemingly attempting to pacify what looked like an increasingly agitated mob.

"Jarl Korir, I assure you..."

"Don't start being all formal with me, mage! We all know this was your doing!" Jarl Korir roared at the top of his voice, spittle flying form his lips. "The Great Collapse was not enough for you, so you had to cause more destruction of this town!"

The crowd roared in approval, and the Jarl's chest puffed up a little more.

"Tell me, mage. What will you and that pitiful group within do when we all throw you out into the wilderness and take that infernal building apart?"